Filthy excitement. Thats what I crave, that's what I employ, that's what I will contain.
I've a new boy. A fresh, unfettered uncluttered mind to warp, to shape, to fester with my own addictions, my own vicious lusts.
I have a new boy to stretch and spoil, yank and pester, mold into my ideal. The mind reels with excitement, the mind dastardly errupts with obscession.
I've sent my new conquest an envelope containing a hotel key card. He's instructed to go to the suite, light three heady scented candles, stragically placed around the room, open the balcony french doors, allow a whisper of a breeze to flicker the flames, and turn out every light. He is to lay on the bed, no shoes, no socks, no underwear, just old jeans and a t shirt. He is to wait for me, and not move.
The toll strikes, he can hear the door knob creak and slide, pop with the key card and in I saulter. He tries to speak, I tell him to "shhhhh".. to lay back on the bed, close his eyes and just breathe.
I walk over to the bed.. teeth off my leather glove and feel his heart though his chest. IT beats like a bass drum, like tachycardia set in and he might faint. I asked him if he trusts me, he took a breath and said, "Yes Mistress, but I am so excited, so nervous, so wanton." I lean in
kiss his beautiful mouth and tell him to do as I say, and there will be no fear. I pull up my skirt, pull down my panties, raise his tshirt to his collarbone and straddle him. My naughtybits sticking to his skin, I grind around a little, get my scent on him.
I take a big breath lean in and push my breath into his mouth
his eyes open, but close again as I suck out his breath, trading essence, trading our worlds in one kiss, mixing emotion along with the tension. It is like kissing underwater, feeding from each other, depending on each other.
I get off my mount, and walk to the end of the bed..
from my boot, I seize a little pair of really sharp scissors. I use the blade on the soles of his feet, I dont cut him, but he can feel the pressure against his tender skin. I saw him jerk a little, I smile and let him feel the cold surgical around his ankles. I make a small cut in the jeans... and rip the pants leg up to the pockets. I see my boy gasp, I see him breathe harder, I cut the other leg denim all the way to his cock.
A Fleshy thigh is exposed to me.... I push it flat against the bed. One of my hands finds his nipple, and it gets squeezed until it is red, pushed between my forefinger and thumb, flicked and thumped. The inner thigh is milky white, and faintly flush from nerves, I reach into my boot and find my Bard Parke pack, and retrieve a number 10, number 11 , number 15 and number 12 scaple blade, and set them out pristinely. I begin to suck on his thigh, he moans. I begin to slap his thigh, bite it, suck on it more, slap it, make it sting, make it red, make it numb, make it mine.
He moans, this boy likes a little pain, my own nipples are erect, my own sex is moist, my own heart flutters like his.
I slap his inner thigh, I look over my shoulder and notice his cock peeks above his waistband, through the holes in his jeans, and bulges without decorum. I slap his thigh again. Hard this time, I ask "My boy, is this painful? Can you feel my slap?", He answers breathlessly, "No Mistress, it hurts not, it feels numb"
With that knowledge, I get up and find the ice bucket, and find a sparking diamond of ice, remount my boy's torso and ice down that thigh. IT is pink with cold, reddish from slapping and whelped around the edges. I take my calligraphy pen and calligraph a glorious "S" on his inner thigh.. with my number ten blade, I cut into the markings, removing tiny bits of tissue, tiny bits of skin, and leaving my own personal marking.. a marking on my new boy.
He bleeds, but he bleeds for me.. I notice his eyes .. pupils dialated, cock still hard, blood seeps out slowly from his cutting..
I bend and suck the inside of his thigh. With my other instruments, I carve and adjust the mark to my pleasure and artistic intregrity, and slap it hard when I am finished. His clotting time is fast. He is healthy,
I am pleased.
I look at him, laying there, beautiful.. like a mulitated angel, head perched on the pillow. I rip the rest of his clothing from his body. Cutting the t shirt from his chest, making strips from it to tie up his cock, strips to bind and truss. I hog tie this cock, it gleems at me, candlelight bouncing off the shine. One of the strips I've cut is from his jeans. That strip I slip under his strong neck..
that strip is used to control his breath..
that strip is his new passion.
I ask him if he still trusts me, if we can continue, he said he is well part the point of stopping, he has never felt this sort of excitement before. I smile and say, are you ready to begin?
I pull the strip tight, hold it with one hand, reach around and jack him with the other hand. I edge him with one finger, my index finger, on the vein, on the slit, using pearly precum for lube.
I hear moaning, I hear labored breathing
I make his noose tighter, He smiles..
I ask him if he can breathe, he said he's never breathed like this, and please .."Miss Don't stop".. I can tell he is nearing his limit, he quit sweating, he just got calm.. with one swoop, I pull his cock binding tight and push my mouth all the way down on that cock, all the way to the end of the shaft, my eyes water, I look up
pull his neck binding a tiny bit tighter.. and I just
hold myself still
and swallow.
No motion
no movement..
nothing..
His heart beats the same as mine..
his breathing slows to my rythmn
I have him..
the control
he cant move.. he can't function..
I slowly move my mouth away, sit up on his torso..
and tighten the neck a little more
take a breath
and jack him off without mercy.. towards the last two strokes, the cock is freed, jacked with oil without stopping,
This time..
to completion.
He bursts, a huge sparkling, glorious eruption of milky cum..
I take a fingerful, and write my name on his chest with it..
The strip of denim is removed from his neck.. and he is told to just rest and breathe, but he doesnt do what he is told.. he kneels and clings to my leg.. unable to speak.
I tell him.. I know it darling.. there are no words.
just my mark on the inside of your leg.. to remind you ,
you are mine, and you are loved.
Eloise Mureaux
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