Pain or Pleasure?

The chains bit into his wrists. He smelled blood and his shoulders had gone numb ages ago but he said nothing about the pain. She stood before him, her dyed, blonde hair glowing in the moonlight that streamed through one of the skylights. She hadn't said a word to him but her eyes...they hinted at hours of conversation, things she might have said had they met under much different circumstances.
He sensed she was lonely that what she did to him now was what she felt she had to and not what she wished to. Maybe if he told her it was okay, that her secrets were safe with him, she'd let down his arms and her guard? Maybe then the night could take a much different path.
But again he remained silent.
She began to circle him, her skinny heels loud against the hard concrete floor. When she was before him once more she laid a hand in the center of his chest and lowered her lashes to hide her eyes. She wore gloves, long, black, elegant gloves and the satin cooled his heated skin.
It occurred to him to be scared. After all, he had no real idea what she might do to him. He'd seen her nostrils flare when the chains had first ripped at his wrists and he'd caught a brief glimpse of lethal fangs when she had captured her plump bottom lip between her teeth while struggling to secure the shackles.
The hand she'd placed against his chest began a slow journey downward, the fabric of her glove growing warmer as it collected his sweat. Just as she reached the trail of hair below his naval he decided the silence had to be broken.
"Just tell me what you want from me."
She froze, as if his voice were the last sound she expected to hear. Her eyes settled on his face, the icy blue color no less startling than it had been hours ago when he'd first looked into them and sealed his fate.
"I mean, really, are the chains necessary?" He rattled them, making her attention stray toward his bound wrists. He took her distraction as an opportunity to study her features. She looked young, very young, too young to have a man chained in a warehouse well past midnight, and yet here he was...waiting.
"I do not wish to have you speak." Her voice shocked the hell out of him. He hadn't expected the husky, seductive tone of one twice her age or the harsh, European accent.
"So I'm just supposed to hang here and take whatever you deal out?"
For several moments she stared straight into his eyes and he felt the same fuzziness he'd experienced earlier. Once again, she had him and there was nothing he could do about it.
After that, words formed on his tongue but he swallowed each and every one. What was the point of wasting breath and energy talking to her?
Her gloved fingers encircled his cock and stroked to the tip without hesitation. The satin added an erotic touch he'd never experienced before. The more she stroked, the more willing he was to hang from the chains.
A groan built in his throat as the pressure for release built in his balls. As if sensing both, she stopped and released him to wrap both arms around his body. Her hands cupped his ass and she squeezed the muscle while leaning her body into his. She was short enough to tuck her head under his chin and her lips teased the hollow of his throat. The hot jab of her tongue was an unexpected pleasure when he'd been anticipating the sting of teeth.
Keeping one hand on his ass, she worked the other between their bodies to once more grasp his cock. She began to stroke in time to the gentle thrusts of her tongue against his throat. The thrusts turned to full out licking and her hand began to pull more than stroke. The skin grew painfully tight around the head only to slacken as she moved her hand back toward the tip. Over and over she tugged at him until he had no idea if it was the best thing he'd ever felt or if it hurt like hell.
His body must have liked it because he felt the first drops of cum seep from the slit. As insane as it was, he worried about staining the black fabric of her gloves, but if she cared about such things it didn't show in the way she slipped her palm over the head of his cock to absorb the moisture and use it to enhance her next tight drag down to the base.
He finally closed his eyes and gave into the sensations. His whole nervous system seemed centered in his groin. Nothing existed but the feel of her satiny hand.
Then she bit him.
The shock of her teeth piercing through the flesh her tongue had just been teasing caused him to tug on the chains. They rattled loudly and his shoulders screamed in protest, the muscles beckoning the blood back into his arms. She seemed to intercept the flow of blood, leaving his arms cold and useless.
He stopped fighting because the pain of moving threatened to knock him out.
He could hear her sucking at his throat, swallowing discreetly every so often then sucking some more. The sounds filled his mind with images of her on her knees. Thinking of her ruby red lips around his cock dulled the sting of her teeth and he began to move against the tight grip of her hand.
The sucking stopped and he held his breath, expecting her to release his cock and deny him any pleasure whatsoever.
He was wrong.
The moment passed and her mouth once more pulled at his throat while her hand worked his erection. The combination left him shaking and breathless.
How long she fed, he didn't know. Time ceased to matter as his mind focused on the promise of release. Each time his climax drew near, she'd halt the movements of her hand, denying him the relief. He'd shudder, catch his breath then she'd begin to stroke him again. All the while, she took his blood.
How much blood could he possibly give her, or was he meant to die here?

to be continued...perhaps...

L Rosario 4-11-08