I walked through the room, rubbing my arms in an effort to ward off the chill. As I walked up to a device that looked suspiciously like a medieval torture device, I heard the door close. "You're late," he said, sounding amused with me. I turned as he walked over. I noted with some surprise that his hair was unbound. I was struck with the urge to run my fingers through that inky black silky mane and I gripped my arms a little tighter. He smiled at me. He knew. He always knew when I was rocked by temptation. It was his specialty.
As he walked up to me, I realized that the room was a bit brighter than the last time I had been here. Then he was right in front of me and I simply couldn't avoid looking at him. His eyes always managed to fascinate me. They shone with something I couldn't identify as he looked down at me. His brief look of indifference that crossed his face as he finished crossing the distance between us was replaced with a slow smile. It was a knowing smile and, as my heart skipped a beat, it widened. "You missed this," he said. I blushed furiously and took a small step back in a sudden burst of nervousness.
He reached forward and caught the collar of my shirt in his hand. Slowly, he pulled me to him. I swallowed past a lump in my throat as my mouth went dry. He wrapped his free arm around my waist, holding me hard against him. A part of me screamed that I needed to flee. Somehow knowing that struggle going on within me, he grinned. "Oh no, little bird," he said in a voice that brimmed with amusement, "You're not going anywhere right now. The cat's caught you, dear."
I shivered. Slowly, he lowered his head and pressed his lips delicately to mine. It was a deliberate gesture of gentleness that made me nervous as to what was going to happen next. "We have a new... game," he said, lifting his head just enough so that his face was a breath away from mine, "We're going to try your will, of course. Because you like that. You're addicted to that." He gave a small satisfied sounding sigh at how I paled a little at his words. "So pretty when you're startled," he mused, "I could just eat you up."
I gave a little noise of alarm and attempted to step back, only to find myself well and truly caught in his arms. He chuckled. "Come, lets get you ready," he said. He opened his arms and I moved to step away from him. The speed with which he moved alarmed me as he took hold of my left arm and put me into a vicious shoulder lock. "No, no," he said chidingly, "No escape, naughty girl. You're here now." I whimpered and he increased the pressure of the lock. As pain radiated from my shoulder, I gasped. "Do I have your attention now?" he asked in my ear with a voice that dripped with sexual tension and promise.
"Yes," I said, unable to keep the pain out of my voice. He eased up on my shoulder. Keeping my arm trapped behind my back, he steered me through the equipment in the room. We reached an open place where the floor was padded. As I looked at it, all I could think was that it looked like somewhere someone would be practicing tumbling or sparring for some martial art. He walked me to the center of the mat and pushed me down to my knees.
"Wait here," he commanded. I watched him walk away and tried to guess what was coming next. When he returned, he had a length of rope with him. He looked at me, then at the rope. He gave a little nod. His eyes flicked over from regarding the white braided rope in his hand to me. Again, that incomprehensible light lit his eyes. "Strip," he said flatly. I blinked at him for a moment, not comprehending what he said. "Clothes, off," he said in that same harsh tone. I pulled my shirt off over my head and felt like I had to cover myself with my arms. My lack of a bra made me feel much more vulnerable than I had anticipated. As I started to rise to my feet to take off my leggings, he made a noise of disapproval. Awkwardly, I sat on the mat and managed to get the rest of my clothes off. I looked up at him and dropped my eyes at the raw hunger in his gaze, blushing furiously.
He reached forward and took hold of my hair. Slowly, he pulled upward. Awkwardly following the silent command to rise, I restrained a yelp of pain at how my stumbling resulted in the pull on my hair getting harder. When I was on my feet, he stepped closer. "Now this," he said. He forced a foot between mine and gave a little kick to the side. I widened my stance, unconsciously putting a foot back to support myself more. "Good," he said in a tone warm with approval, "After we get you ... dressed, we're going to dance." I looked at him in confusion. Then he put the rope around the back of my neck. In studious silence, he tied the rope around me into an intricate series of knots, spaced just enough so that I wound up with a rope harness bound around me. A strategically placed knot pressed firmly against my clit, shifting slightly as I moved a little to regain my footing.
He stepped back and looked at his handiwork. He smiled. Reaching forward, he grabbed hold of the knot at the center of my chest and pulled, hard. I staggered to my knees, wincing at how hard I landed on the mat. He looked down at me and reached up to cradle my face in the palm of his hand. It was an unexpected gesture of gentleness that confused me. He stepped away only to return bearing two rattan swords. I looked at them and swallowed nervously. "Keep your weapon and you'll be ... rewarded," he said, "Lose it and you'll pay a price."
"What price?" I asked. He smiled. It was the same smile he had when he had brought out the single tail whip last time. I couldn't help the expression of dread that washed over my face. "Please, not that," I said in a small voice. His smile turned to a grin.
"Consider it your motivation," he replied before dropping one of the swords before me. I looked at it and then up at him. His grin was my only warning before he swung his own at me. I grabbed hold of the sword before me and rolled away to the side, just barely dodging his swing. As he reversed his swing, I brought my own weapon up. The rattan sword was struck with enough force that it nearly was knocked out of my hands. He took a step towards me but I rolled away again before coming to my feet.
He watched take up a defensive stance and laughed. It was that dark, dangerously erotic laugh that made a thrill go up my spine. I briefly closed my eyes against the lust that rolled through me. Then yowled in pain as the rattan practice sword came down across my shoulders. As I dropped to my knees, he swung a second blow that I only barely blocked, again nearly losing my weapon. With each motion of my body, the knot at my groin rubbed. I tried to scramble away from him, only to find myself becoming confusedly aroused.
I was on my hands and knees, trying to regain my bearings when the rattan sword he carried came down sharply across my buttocks. I cried out and he laughed again. "Get up, girl," he said suggestively, "Defend yourself." I glared at him, finding myself getting angry with the frustration. I stood and attempted to attack him when he laughed again and batted my sword aside. He reached forward and gripped the harness and hauled me forward, making me stumble. He grinned down at me and my anger turned to mild distress. "Don't you want to fight me?" he said seductively, "Why don't you resist? You try so hard at other times. Why not now, pretty girl?"
I tried to pull myself out of his grip and failed. The light shone brilliantly in his face and the scars on his lips somehow became yet more visible. He gave me a hard shake, making me stumble. "Fight me," he whispered, "earn your prize." With a hard push, he let me go. I stumbled and barely managed to regain my feet when he was bearing down on me with his weapon. I gave a cry of alarm despite myself. My weak defense was knocked aside as he swung through it and landed a hard blow on my right side. "You've gotta do better than that," he said, "Unless you're going to yield."
"I thought that wasn't an option," I hissed through the pain. He grinned. A rapid series of blows fell about my head and shoulders, none landing quite hard enough to put me into as much pain as the strike to my ribs did. I staggered. Recognizing that he was going to continue to press his assault, I dropped to my knees. His strike stopped immediately above my head and he looked down at me.
"Are you surrendering so soon?" he said in mock disappointment. He crouched down before me and looked at me like some predator sizing up their prey. His smile at how I trembled only made me more uneasy. He brought his sword up so that the tip of it was beneath my chin and forced my head up. He waited for me to say something. When I didn't he chuckled. "Giving me your weapon is a way out of this," he said, "But are you sure you want to do it? Because you don't know what I'm going to do with you then."
I tried to keep my breath even and slow. I tried to put aside the way I wanted to throw myself at him and kiss his cruelly smiling mouth. I tried so very hard to think clearly. All I knew was that I didn't have the strength or focus to defend myself. Knowing that having the sword knocked out of my hands meant more quality time with the single tail whip, I shivered. Slowly, I set my sword at his feet. I had no idea what was going to come next, only that I couldn't defend myself against him.
He looked down at the sword I had placed at his feet. He then looked at me. I couldn't help how I quaked and the way I paled at the smile that lit his face. All of the darkness that I had seen hints of in our previous sessions was revealed. All of the hunger was plain. I found myself unable to look away and aching to feel his hands on me. "Such a brave girl," he purred in a tone of pure amusement and hunger, "Now, I'm going to have fun with you." I suddenly felt the primal urge to flee. Before I could do so, he had thrown the practice sword aside and knocked me to the mat.
Laying atop me, I couldn't help but notice the bulge in his jeans straining against the fabric. He wrapped his left arm around me. He reached up behind me and grabbed my hair, roughly yanking my head back. He closed his teeth over my wildly pounding pulse and began to bring them together. I froze as he growled softly. For a moment, I found myself fearful that he was going to bite through. As that moment made my breath and heart stop, he chuckled. My eyes rolled and I gasped at the sensation of powerful arousal that washed over me. It was something stronger than what I had before, something that washed away all care of safety and simply filled me with need.
He dragged his tongue over the bite mark and I groaned. He moved his face up to beside mine, taking a deep breath as he did so. "You're afraid of me but you want me," he whispered in my ear. I started to reach up to him when he grabbed my wrists and slammed them down to the mat. I gave a small cry of pain and arched against him. He caught my earlobe between his teeth as he slid his hands down from my wrists along my arms. As he bit me, he shifted himself over me. I gave a shuddering gasp.
Gripping hold of the rope at my chest, he went up on his knees, pulling me to a sitting position beneath him. Having released my ear, he stared into my face. I found myself unable to help reaching for him. His predatory expression only whipped the lust within me into a greater fervor. I closed my eyes and shivered. "Keep your eyes open," he said, "I want to watch your will crumble." Feeling like I was in a dream, I opened my eyes and stared at him with the fascination of a bird watching a snake.
As my hands settled on his chest, he leaned forward and kissed me. It was a slow, demanding kiss. I squirmed beneath him with a little moan. When he broke the kiss, he smiled at the lust drugged look on my face. He stood up and pulled me to my feet with him. For the brief moment where I was half on my knees and half hanging from his grip, he grinned at how my eyes rolled with pleasure. "Is that what you want?" he said. I stared at him, not understanding the words he said. He turned and dragged me after him as he walked away from where the swords and my clothes lay.
Unable to resist the arousal that came from how the knot rubbed at me or the sensation of being irresistibly dragged forward, my breath came in little gasps. We walked through the room, my attention only focused on how he pulled me forward and the little jolts of pleasure that came with each movement. We stopped at a bench. He sat down and pulled me down so that my face was near his. He looked intently over my expression, as though seeing it for the first time. He let go of the rope and thrust his hands into my hair. His kiss was urgent and hungry. I sighed and simply submitted to him. This seemed to only fuel his hunger.
He broke the kiss and placed love bites down along my neck and on my shoulder. He pulled me into his lap and forced me to arch my back. His bruisingly forceful bites came down to my breasts. I wept and tried to pull away but he held me still. He lifted his head, watching the way pain warred with pleasure over my expression. He turned, dragging me onto the bench. Dazedly, I was shocked when he pushed me back. My head hit the bench and I yelped with pain.
He ignored this as he drew the knife at his back. The feeling of the steel against my thigh made me freeze and shiver. Slowly, he began to cut the rope off of me. I moaned and panted, unable to help myself as I reacted to him. He had only cut a few of the ties before I was close to orgasm. He made a thoughtful noise before cutting the rest. As he did so, I began to squirm. He put a heavy hand on my throat and I stilled. I only shuddered and made animalistic noises of pleasure as the last of my resistance fell away with my orgasms.
With all the cord cut away, he lightly traced the marks left by it with the tip of the knife. I sobbed when I wasn't groaning with pleasure. Slowly, he increased the pressure as he passed his blade over me. When he scored a fine line over my stomach, my head whipped back against the bench and I gave a agonized cry with my orgasm. Deliberately and carefully, he made very shallow cuts over me. With each one, I wailed. My hands grasped at the empty air and I shuddered.
I tearfully plead for mercy as my pleasure reached a point where I couldn't think. Only the irrational fear that I was going to die from it was there. He took a piece of cord and wrapped it about my throat. Slowly, he tightened it, his knife forgotten on the floor. I wept and begged him not to kill me, all sense lost and not realizing that the pressure wasn't as intense as it was under his hand earlier. Incoherent and entirely lost in sensation, I simply reacted to what I felt. The air brushing over my skin where it was bruised from the blows earlier and the shallow cuts he had left made me shudder and cum. The cord about my neck held me on the edge of something more.
He passed a hand over my body and I arched up with a gasping cry. I sobbed, trapped somewhere between terror and blinding pleasure. I didn't notice when he moved away from me to take off his clothes. But when he lifted my hips and thrust into me, I gasped as though someone had thrown ice cold water on me. It was only after a few moments of work, that he had me screaming. A wordless, primal shriek was all I could do as I came. He took his leisure pleasuring himself with my body. Too weak to thrash or grasp at him, all I could do was scream in pleasure. When he found himself drawing close to his own climax, he became harsher in his handling of me. By this time, my screams had dropped down to hoarse moans. As I shuddered beneath him with successive orgasms, he gave himself over to his pleasure.
When all was finished, I lay on the edge of unconsciousness with my body responding weakly to the faintest breath of air curling over my skin. Though I felt the pull to drop down into sleep, he kept me awake. I stared up at him, helpless in pleasure and adoration. He smiled down at me. "Now, you are mine," he said in a tone of deep satisfaction and possessiveness. I shuddered and moaned at the sound of his voice. As unconsciousness claimed me, the last sound I heard was his dark chuckle of amusement.