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Heat
By Toran
I sway in the heat of the night, wrists tied with rope that disappears into the gloom above me. My legs are spread far far apart and the sweat beading on my skin runs in small rivers down my thighs. I hang my head from the fatigue of standing here, vulnerable, naked, forced to silence by the strap cinched tightly between my teeth. My breath comes with a slow rhythm that matches the fierce beating of my heart as it races in my chest.
My weight is supported only by my aching arms, as my legs have long since lost the battle to keep muscles rigid. My chest strains, as does my shoulders, but there is little I can do but wait in pain. She has desired that I am tied like this, that I feel this pain, that I bow and bend to her with more than my body. She wants my mind and uses weariness to beat down my wall of will. I fight still, more for my own pride. I have no chance of winning, of keeping that which I thought was mine and mine alone. She long ago lay claim to my body and maybe even then, to my mind. But fight is all I can do, all that is left me.
Her heels click on the cool tile floor behind me and what is left of my muscle tone tenses. The pain and fatigue of the last hours, forced to motionless agony, pales before what I know comes with the sound of her heels. I feel her gentle hands rub my shoulders, and I flinch instinctively. She purrs and then her fingernails are unsheathed, slowly ripping four thin gashes across my back. Her hot breath in my ear and my testicles slide smoothly lower in their sack. She arouses me, even in my pain, she arouses me.
Her teeth nipping at my ear are foreplay to the vicious bite that draws a tiny bead of blood from the fleshy earlobe. I shudder, a small moan is lost in the gag, but then her fingers are around in front, grabbing my swollen cock, digging into the tender sides like an attacking mongoose. Her other hand has my nipple locked between two tightening fingers and now she presses into my back fully. Her warm breasts rub the grooves her fingers have left and her pelvis rubs against my ass and still she plays with my cock, stroking long and hard, while my nipple is slowly crushed.
I feel her teeth sink swiftly into my neck, feel her soft lips suckle my skin. I tense, willing myself not to orgasm, not to show her I get pleasure from her torture. Not to submit. She feels my cock hesitate in its throbbing pulse, feels my body fight with the last of my energy.
And she buries her teeth into my neck again. I close my eyes and come, feeling my loins explode. White, harsh pleasure ripples through my body as I succumb to her power. My legs buckle and I hang from my arms. Blood drips softly from my neck, semen from my limp dick. She is gone, having finished wrenching my cock almost off with a soft chuckle and the echo of her heels as she leaves me alone again.
Now it will be worse for me. Now there is only pain and agony. Before, I at least had the hope of fighting her thirst. Like an opened bottle of wine, I wait, motionless, silent, patiently, for her thirst to return and drain me of the nectar of my will.