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estdeus_innobis(Sometime after midnight, Tuesday morning)
(The living quarters of the Dormouse)
A sharp intake of breath is all that echoes in the silent room as my eyes snap open. At least it's not a scream. The screaming stopped days ago, right after Kent's last visit, when I stopped pretending that I did not want to hurt anyone. Because I do. I want to make people scream. I want to see their blood on my hands...
Lucien thinks I'm getting better.
Silently, I leave Lucien sleeping in our bed, and slip downstairs as I draw on my black silk robe. With the images of writhing bodies dappled in blood still fresh in my mind, I know sleep will not come again easily. No reason to wake Lucien, may as well go downstairs and get something to drink. Just sit in the kitchen, maybe some chamomile tea....
But I bypass the kitchen without a though and open the door to the basement. I had no intention of coming down here when I slipped out of bed, but my feet lead me down the pitch black stairs until they make contact with the cool cement. Even in the dark, I know this space like the back of my hand. I navigate the room and find a single candle and a match, and soon the basement is barely illuminated by the feeble glow of a single lick of flame. Silently, I circle the room, reliving flashes of memory. Derek, bent over a table, presenting himself to me, trembling and moaning as I paddled him for the first time... Lorilei Evans, suspended from the support beams, pale flesh and dark hair glowing in the candle's light, gasping softly as I attached clamps to rosy tipped nipples.... Scott Haskins bound and gagged, cock purpled and straining against the silken ropes as I dribbled hot wax onto his chest....
As I walk and remember... I find my breathing has shallowed and my pulse has quickened. Slide a hand over my breast and realize the nipple is hard and aching. Capture it between my thumb and forefinger, pinching it sharply, and a low whimper of pleasure escapes my lips. All the dark joy I have denied myself for years begins to swell inside me, and I keep moving, candle in one hand, fondling myself with the other as I recall certain images.
Miao... in silken bonds... trembling under Lucien's long tapered fingers... Lucien himself, first kneeling at my feet, begging me to punish him.....tug the robe open, exposing myself so I can trail my fingers over my own thighs and lower abdomen... then arching off the cross as I applied the violet wand to him, eyes blazing hellfire... skim across my sex and gasp at the jolt of pleasure when I graze the very tip of my clitoris.... then hanging in front of me, screaming as the whip cracked, back and forth, opening cut after cut on his body.... the floor still bears witness to my anger, pain and cruelty.
Fingers slick with my own want and need... I go to the bed, setting the candle down and slipping off the robe. I stretch my body across the cool sheets, letting my hands roam where they may, pinching rolling, probing. Maybe once, a part of me would be ashamed that I would find such ideas and images this erotic... but not now, not anymore. Finally, I let my mind go where it wanted to since I came down here... to Kent's intense blue eyes, boring into my soul as I whipped him that first time, drawing a thin line of blood. So beautifully red against his skin.... it ran red when I dug my heel into his shoulder, little red heel prints still marking the floor, I can just barely see them in this weak light. Hips roll, tilting up as my fingers slide inside myself, curling in and up as they glide in and out, just grazing... just the ghosting the edges of completion....
Kent's body, strapped to the table, a hundred silver pins protruding from skin as I touch the metal with electricity... his body jerking, eyes widened as he tried to stave off his orgasm, gasping.... I'm gasping, trying to hold off the orgasm from taking me... the color of his blood against my pale thighs, the feel of his tongue, the way his hands slid up my calves... when his mouth covered my clit... the feel of his hair in my hands.... oh heavens... the blood I will spill, the marks I will leave on his body time after time, as he kneels before me...
That is the last image my mind registers before I allow myself to go over the edge, my nipple twisted between fingers and my hand pumping furiously against my sex....my hips jerk over and over as my body arches off the bed.... a sharp cry echoing around me in the darkened room as I revel in the orgasm I brought myself to. Presently, it ebbs away, and I slump against the bed, spent, and trembling....
I'm not sure how much time passes as I float in and out of wakefullness, but presently, I rise, slip my robe back on, and head back up the stairs. Lucien still sleeps, unaware that I ever left his slide. I re-join him in bed, and curl my body close to his.
Sleep re-claims me easily now, and I am no longer afraid of my dreams.
Now I will welcome them.
[closed]
(The living quarters of the Dormouse)
A sharp intake of breath is all that echoes in the silent room as my eyes snap open. At least it's not a scream. The screaming stopped days ago, right after Kent's last visit, when I stopped pretending that I did not want to hurt anyone. Because I do. I want to make people scream. I want to see their blood on my hands...
Lucien thinks I'm getting better.
Silently, I leave Lucien sleeping in our bed, and slip downstairs as I draw on my black silk robe. With the images of writhing bodies dappled in blood still fresh in my mind, I know sleep will not come again easily. No reason to wake Lucien, may as well go downstairs and get something to drink. Just sit in the kitchen, maybe some chamomile tea....
But I bypass the kitchen without a though and open the door to the basement. I had no intention of coming down here when I slipped out of bed, but my feet lead me down the pitch black stairs until they make contact with the cool cement. Even in the dark, I know this space like the back of my hand. I navigate the room and find a single candle and a match, and soon the basement is barely illuminated by the feeble glow of a single lick of flame. Silently, I circle the room, reliving flashes of memory. Derek, bent over a table, presenting himself to me, trembling and moaning as I paddled him for the first time... Lorilei Evans, suspended from the support beams, pale flesh and dark hair glowing in the candle's light, gasping softly as I attached clamps to rosy tipped nipples.... Scott Haskins bound and gagged, cock purpled and straining against the silken ropes as I dribbled hot wax onto his chest....
As I walk and remember... I find my breathing has shallowed and my pulse has quickened. Slide a hand over my breast and realize the nipple is hard and aching. Capture it between my thumb and forefinger, pinching it sharply, and a low whimper of pleasure escapes my lips. All the dark joy I have denied myself for years begins to swell inside me, and I keep moving, candle in one hand, fondling myself with the other as I recall certain images.
Miao... in silken bonds... trembling under Lucien's long tapered fingers... Lucien himself, first kneeling at my feet, begging me to punish him.....tug the robe open, exposing myself so I can trail my fingers over my own thighs and lower abdomen... then arching off the cross as I applied the violet wand to him, eyes blazing hellfire... skim across my sex and gasp at the jolt of pleasure when I graze the very tip of my clitoris.... then hanging in front of me, screaming as the whip cracked, back and forth, opening cut after cut on his body.... the floor still bears witness to my anger, pain and cruelty.
Fingers slick with my own want and need... I go to the bed, setting the candle down and slipping off the robe. I stretch my body across the cool sheets, letting my hands roam where they may, pinching rolling, probing. Maybe once, a part of me would be ashamed that I would find such ideas and images this erotic... but not now, not anymore. Finally, I let my mind go where it wanted to since I came down here... to Kent's intense blue eyes, boring into my soul as I whipped him that first time, drawing a thin line of blood. So beautifully red against his skin.... it ran red when I dug my heel into his shoulder, little red heel prints still marking the floor, I can just barely see them in this weak light. Hips roll, tilting up as my fingers slide inside myself, curling in and up as they glide in and out, just grazing... just the ghosting the edges of completion....
Kent's body, strapped to the table, a hundred silver pins protruding from skin as I touch the metal with electricity... his body jerking, eyes widened as he tried to stave off his orgasm, gasping.... I'm gasping, trying to hold off the orgasm from taking me... the color of his blood against my pale thighs, the feel of his tongue, the way his hands slid up my calves... when his mouth covered my clit... the feel of his hair in my hands.... oh heavens... the blood I will spill, the marks I will leave on his body time after time, as he kneels before me...
That is the last image my mind registers before I allow myself to go over the edge, my nipple twisted between fingers and my hand pumping furiously against my sex....my hips jerk over and over as my body arches off the bed.... a sharp cry echoing around me in the darkened room as I revel in the orgasm I brought myself to. Presently, it ebbs away, and I slump against the bed, spent, and trembling....
I'm not sure how much time passes as I float in and out of wakefullness, but presently, I rise, slip my robe back on, and head back up the stairs. Lucien still sleeps, unaware that I ever left his slide. I re-join him in bed, and curl my body close to his.
Sleep re-claims me easily now, and I am no longer afraid of my dreams.
Now I will welcome them.
[closed]
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