3 comments/ 9168 views/ 1 favorites The Scent By: viridia "Submit to me. I will not ever harm you. Do you doubt this?" He was genuinely hurt. "Master, you know of my problem with this. Why do you ask this of me?" "I want you to submit to me. It is our relationship. Do you want to make a fundamental to change to this arrangement?" "I don't want this to end. Is that what you're asking me?" "Little one." He reached out to her to caress her cheek. He knew that this was going to be difficult for her. That was part of why he considered this. The other part was that he desired this to his very core. "Little one, I asked if you wanted to change the arrangement - not end it. You could become my lover rather than my slave. I could become your lover rather than your master. It is not something I want. I don't think it is something you want. I want you to give me what I want." She was lying on the bed with her arms tied to the head board. He had not restrained her legs. He enjoyed being able to wrap her legs around his waist or to bend her almost in half. He undid her wrist restraints. Of course she immediately crossed her arms over her breasts in an attempt to cover her nakedness. He allowed this momentarily. "Turn over and get on all fours." She moved slowly to meet his demand. With her legs between his, he entered her from behind. She arched her back so that he could enter in a fluid stroke. "Yes, this is better for the blood," she said. She had started her period a few days before. She was a heavy bleeder and her own scent was heavy. She was both enthralled and appalled by her scent. In the past, with another, she had been treated as if her body was polluted when she menstruated or became wet with desire. She had taken no small amount of verbal abuse and had allowed herself to internalize this shame. Her master, the other had never been a master - merely a husband, now an ex-husband - wanted to take her even when her period was heavy. This she struggled with, but a few times had come to terms with her shame. Those moments of acceptance and desire had fed her healing soul. "Better how, Little one?" "Not as messy." As she said it, she knew he would be displeased. The spank on her ass wrung in her ears. "This is your master fucking you. This is your master enjoying your body. This is my slave giving of her passion. Do not insult what I love." At every other word, he thrust deeply into her wet heat. She ground her body against his as he rode her. He felt all of her muscles begin the contract around his dick. She came explosively. He came with her but immediately pulled out of her and stood up. "Master, oh please, I want you inside, please" she was almost incoherent. "Stand up," he commanded. His voice was deep with desire and power. She was confused. She was still coming. She looked over her shoulder at him. He was still hard and his dick glistened with her moisture and blood. He looked almost demonic. "Stand up now." She moved on the bed and finally, on very shaky legs, stood up. She kept her legs clamped tightly together. She could feel all the combined liquids moving within her body - downward. "Spread your legs and use your wetness to write your initial on my chest." He said it quietly right beside her ear. "But that would get you dirty." He grabbed her arms tightly. "I am getting angry. Nothing about what I love is dirty. My love is not dirty. You are my love. Look at me. Spread your legs, reach into your pussy, and use our cum and your blood to write on my chest." He was red in the face. He was angrier than she had ever seen him. As if her body were conspiring against her, she felt the liquid heat pass over her labia and onto her thigh. She looked into his beautiful green eyes and didn't see anger. She saw passion and fire. She spread her legs and moistened her finger in this viscous ink. Three small dips into the inkwell and three small strokes over his heart. "Daintily done, Little one. My turn." She gasped and came when he plunged three fingers into her pussy. His hand was almost coated in an iridescent liquid. He wrote large, all over her torso. All the letters of his name combined into a glyph. His mark. His sign. His brand in her blood. Every time he entered her, she would cum. Every time she clenched in her desire more blood would join with the natural lubricant of her body. The smell of their passion filled the small space. He thrust her onto the bed. She was lying on her back. He spread her knees wide as he entered her. "You are mine." He slammed into her. "You are mine." He slammed into her over and over. Earth and sea. Musk and heat. Blood and cum. The Scent She knew that he would be coming soon. She sat waiting with her hair brush on her lap as she did each morning. She liked the warm days. She could feel the warmth on her skin, even if she could not see it. She did not know why but in her chair as the smell of people increased a great warmth would sometimes fall on her face. It was not always there and almost never when she could smell water. Touch, warmth, cold, smell, taste, pleasure and pain were the only sensations she had ever known. Sight and sound were concepts outside of her experience or knowledge. For twenty five years she had lived in this house, never taught to speak, or communicate. She knew nothing of the world beyond these walls and did not want to know. Her world was small, confined but safe. He was the only human contact she enjoyed. The only person she wanted to touch her. There was something about his smell that delighted her and the feeling of his gentle hands on her shoulders as he brushed her hair sent a thrill through her body each time she felt it. The only language she had with which to name him was the one she had made for herself. It was a language of smell and touch and it was through his scent that she thought of him. He would come to her around the time the warmth would first strike her skin. He would gently take the brush from her hand, rubbing his hand down the bare skin of her arm. She had come to understand this as him asking her permission to use the brush on her and she always granted it. His scent would move behind her then and he would place one hand gently on her shoulder while the other would move the brush through her long hair. The pattern was always the same, always gently moving from her scalp to her waist in carefully measured strokes. She had always wanted to touch him, to run her hands over his face so that she could know him more fully but never had the courage to do so. He was a rock in her life, a constant source of comfort. She knew that he was always near by, could smell him at all hours of the day. As long as he was there she felt protected from the other scents she would on occassion smell. The hands of other people with different scents could be cold and frightening to her. Some smelt like herself and would on occassion run water over her body. The water was always too cold and they moved her body in a harsh manner, like she was an object needing to be cleaned. It was never him that cleaned her body or fed her. He came only in the morning and only to brush her hair but somehow she sensed he was always there for her and that if he ever left the cruel cold hands of the others would grow colder and harder. She smelt him as he drew close today and waited expectantly as she felt the vibrations of his footsteps come closer. She felt the flesh of his fingertip run along her forearm and she raised the brush towards him. She felt one hand gently clasp hers while another softly took the brush from her hand. She smelt his odour as it moved around her body and his hands run through her hair for a moment. She leant back as his hand touched her right shoulder and the bristles of the brush ran across her scalp then slowly through her long hair, his skillful soft touch disentangling her hair without pain. Slowly he moved the brush through her hair in the familiar pattern as the warmth on her face made her feel sleepy. She felt herself drifting away slowly into a gentle but irresistible sleep under his loving strokes. In her dreamlike state she felt her hand slowly rise up over her own body, moving over the soft flesh of her chest to touch the hand on her shoulder. She had never held his hand like this before and became more awake as she began to softly stroke his coarse hand, surprised by it's rough texture compared to her own. She had dreamt of touching his skin like this but only in this half awake state had she dared to do it. She felt a tigthness in her chest as she began to caress his hand on her shoulder as he continued to run the brush through her silky hair. Her hand began to wander up the length of his arm and she was surprised by the fine hairs that covered it. It excited her to feel the difference in his arm to hers. She reached up higher until she could feel his muscular bicep, firm and strong as it braced her. Her hand reached up higher and struck the firm wall of his chest. The soft mounds of her own body were replaced by a hardness that shocked her yet made her yearn for more. Suddenly he pulled back, the brush coming away from her hair though his routine was not complete and she understood at once that she had gone too far. Her heart sank as she felt his footsteps vibrate through the floor as he began to move away from her and a sudden fear that she would never be close to him again filled her mind with terror. Then she sensed it. Another prescence in the room. Someone with a scent like her own. The scent drew closer and moved behind her and suddenly the brush was back in her hair, moving roughly through it, tearing at her and ripping strands of her hair from her scalp. She felt tears form in her sightless eyes and run wetly down her face as pain ripped through her body. She could no longer smell his scent and knew that he was gone. This other person had taken her place, had been nearby as she had explored his body with her hands and had not approved. She had some power of him, she was the one who made him leave and she knew that he would not be allowed to return. The brush was now being used like a weapon against her, as if its weilder was trying to inflict as much pain upon her as possible. She was truly alone now, cut off from the world and at the mercy of this person, cruel and hard. Finally the torture ended and she sat alone in the chair for hours, desperately searching out his scent in the cold air, the warmth on her face cut off now and a chill breeze running over her body. At last food was brought to her and the same scent that had so harshly brushed her hair returned and quickly forced the food into her mouth. Rushed spoonfulls of some foul tasting soup that was closer to water than food. The person seemed to delight in making the water spill over her face and down her clothes, barely half of the meagre portion making it to her mouth. Then two pairs of hands had lifted her forcfefully out of the chair and carried her to her bed. They raised barriers on either side of the bed, imprisoning her within it and then moved away. She lay crying for hours. He had left her. She knew she would never be near him again. In the morning she was carried back to her chair, but there was no warmth now. Her clothes were roughly removed from her body and she was made to sit naked in the chair, the cool breeze returning and freezing her flesh. She felt something vibrating against her scalp and felt hair being ripped from her scalp in a great clump by sharp moving knives. She tried to pull away but the rough hands of several scents held her back against the chair as something cold moved roughly over her head. The cold chill breeze now began to flow over her scalp and she understood each and every strand of her hair was being shorn from her body. She was truly naked now, not even hair to protect her and no longer any prospect of the man returning to her. They were removing her connection to him, each stroke of the cold vibrating knives on her head taking him out of her life. In only a few minutes they were finished and they let her go. She felt her brush being placed in her lap, a cruel mocking joke. Once more she was carried back to the bed and imprisoned within it's metal sides. She lay crying for hours, the scent of these cruel people the only one she could detect. He was gone so completely now it was as if he had never been there. Tears flowed all day until there were none left to shed and she drifted into an unhappy sleep. In her dreams he came back to her. His beautiful, enticing odour surrounding her. She could feel his rough but kind hands on her body, gently stroking her chest before moving down over stomach and into the hairs below which she had sometimes explored at night. His fingers found her button and in her dreams she felt them rub over it, the sensation greater than anything she had known. She felt something break inside of her and she woke to an explosion in her body that shook her and made her tremble all over. Then she sensed him. His was the only scent in the air. He was close by and he was alone. She reached her arms out trying to touch him but his arms found her first. They moved under her body and she felt his strength as he lifted her from the bed. She expected to be moved only the short distance to the chair but a thrill went through her body as she found he was moving her further. He lowered her and her bare feet touched the cold floor as he placed a gown over her naked body. He took her hand and she followed him, there was no other scents in the air and they moved hurriedly first left and then right until he stopped for a moment. He kept her still as if there was danger nearby, then clasping her hand tightly they dashed forward once more. Her feet ran over unfamiliar ground, a strange type of soft almost wet surface before they hit rock hard ground again. The air was bitterly cold and her mind was overpowered with new scents she had never smelt before. Some were overpoweringly beautiful and others harsh and frightening. They stopped again and he guided her into another chair and the scents and cold night air was cut off from her again. She felt a thud and her chair rocked slightly before it began to vibrate rapidly around her. Suddenly she had a sense of great motion, a terrifying sense of speed which seemed impossibly fast. She felt herself turning left and right again as the chair in which she sat seemed to hum. She could sense him beside her and reached out towards his smell and found his body. She ran her arm down his chest and felt a wetness on him that seemed to cover his entire shirt. She put her fingers into this wetness and drew it to her face, smelling it's salty texture before placing it to her tongue. It smelt and tasted like him but in an extreme sense and she wanted to run her tongue over his body and devour him, to drink in his liquid flesh. They stopped at last and he led her back out into the cold air, across more cold wet ground that seemed to stick to her bare feet. He led her then into a new space, wamer now and inviting with a soft ground that felt like thick hair beneath her feet. He led her along until she felt another chair and she sat down upon it, tightly clasping his hand for fear that he would leave her. She felt him stay and knew that they reached whatever destintation it was they were seeking. She knew that she was safe here with him and that he had saved her. Her hand moved up his arms, taking her time over it's hairy surface then up his arm to his sweat covered sleeve. Her other hand moved to his chest and found buttons in the middle of his shirt. Slowly she undid each button, pushing his shirt aside more and more as she moved lower. She sensed him move closer to him and felt his chest rubbing against her nose, the scent of him now intoxicating. Her tongue licked at his salty flesh as her hands descended down his body to his pants. She found a buckle and fumbled with it desperately, some basic instinct urging her to explore his body more fully. She pulled down and felt his pants come down in her hands. Unsure what she would find she reached out and felt something hard and cylindrical extending from his body. Had it not been flesh like she wouldn't have believed something so hard could have been part of a human body. It's musky scent drove her mad with desire and she felt a moistening in her groin as she licked at the shaft in front of her. She felt his hands rest lightly on her head as he lovingly directed the hard flesh in her hands into her mouth. Instinctively she wrapped her lips around the shaft and explored it's length with her tongue as she slid it deep into her mouth. Its taste and scent brought out a lust in her that she had never known before. Moaning desperately, the vibrations in her throat seeming to coarse through her body she found herself bobbing her head back and forth underneath his strong hands. To what end she sucked this part of his body she didn't know but she had to have it within her, she had to taste it, to smell it. She willed herself to take it into her throat, loving the taste of it as the skin passed over her tongue and the way it filled her throat, the aroma in her nose causing her to groan with an animal intensity. She felt him begin to sway his hips and knew that this was as sensual for him as it was for her. He moved within her mouth and throat in time with the bobbing of her head, their passion building towards a climax that she could only imagine. Suddenly he pulled back and she reached her mouth forward blindly in the dark, desperate to have him back within her. But she felt him left her off the chair and carry her in his arms. He laid her down on a large soft mattress as she clung to his powerful chest. She reached her hands down searching for the shaft again but even as she found it she felt him push her legs apart, his fingers moving to the small button in her slit. His fingers rotated it around and around and years of longing suddenly rose up within her as a climax of pleasure that made the air explode from her lungs in a roar that she felt vibrate in her throat. She writhed in a beautiful agony which rose again as she felt him guide the shaft in her hands until it pressed against her hole and pushed inside her. She released the shaft and dug her fingers into his back as she felt him fall deeper into her, their bodies merging. She ground her hips against him desperately as another wave of ecstacy consumed her like fire. Their bodies danced together on the soft sweet smelling mattress, the emotion she knew as warmth building to a raw heat that left her gasping for breath. She felt her desire rise and peak in a rolling wave of ecstacy that she wished would never end. At last she felt him move out of her and smelt his groin rise up to her mouth. She gratefully took the shaft back into her mouth and felt a tremor run through it as his hands gripped her head. A thick creamy fluid suddenly exploded from the head of the shaft and her body rocked with another climax as her mouth, nose and throat were filled with the scent of him. She drank the liquid, wanting it keep spurting his flavour into her mouth forever, loving the it's warmth as it slid down her throat. At last he pulled away from her and they collapsed into each others arms and lay panting, his hot breath on her face as his arms moved around her. She felt him take her hand in his and place it on his chest. She could feel a rythmic beating within his body in perfect time with the pounding in hers. He pressed her hand down firmly then placed his own hand on her chest. She knew he was saying they belonged to each other. She knew she was safe and always would be now. She understood love at last.