Endurance

{ this erotica is work in progress… first part is posted underneath.. more will get added soon.. keep watching this space… :) }


#1

She was pacing softly across the cold floor of her room. It was one of the darkest nights of her life. Slowly she walked up to the window and stood by it, staring at the dark sky with faintly glittering stars. There was a candle lantern illuminating the room, yet in here was a lot darker in comparison to out there. Flickering shadows in the room were enticing her, giving her fake hopes of his arrival.

The wind had suddenly started blowing wildly and she persisted with her fingers to arrange her dancing curly hairs out of her vision. She was lost in deep thoughts as wind played its melancholic melodies.

The last week had been absolutely terrible. Old wounds were scratched open, Sorrow was capturing her deeper as days were passing. All she could manage to do was to have the patience. And since yesterday it was becoming difficult too.

Every second, ticking away in clock, intensified her need to have him, own him, destroy him completely. Wind and the clock, only two things that were echoing their sounds in her head, got louder as time passed.

She heard him open the door of her house, his footsteps eager and quick. He came barging into her bedroom, knowing he would find her there. She was still at the window as she slowly turned about and looked at him, still as silent as the night.

He tried to calm his rapidly beating heart and took small steps, walking closer, his lips forming a charming smile. She was not her usual self in front of him though, that sweetness he knew she had – had vanished. Instead it was that sinister, primal beast that had seized her. He sensed that and his smile started to fade. The killing instincts that radiated out from her enveloped him in its frenzy, as his obedience kicked in. Surrender was the only way. No adorable, amusing games that they played otherwise.

He started removing his clothes feeling her unspoken instructions. She twisted her head a little to the right, just staring, captured in her own wicked desires. He got naked in no time, slowly getting on his knees in the center of that room. His eyes were fixated on hers intensely, to read her more, to try and please her. She walked closer after a few minutes, letting him settle in his composure, pacing slowly around him, her fingers running through his hairs tenderly. He closed his eyes with a little moan and savored her touch.

She stood before him and grabbed his hairs in her fingers, jerking his head back, making him look at her. He flinched but his watered up eyes didn’t give up the pride that she always loved on him. Unfortunately right now that was affecting her in entirely opposite way. It was making her vindictive. All she wanted by that time was to see him in pain, really excruciating pain.

She took a step back from him leaving him free; he stayed calm, waiting for her to make the next move. She made that move in some seconds, slapping him hard, backhanding him with her full force. He was thrown to floor by her strength, rings on her finger cutting his lips. It startled him, not the strength but the excuse or possible reason behind her cruelty.

Slowly he knelt back up, wiping the droplets of blood off from his bottom lip. He looked at her through unshed tears again, this time with uncertainty and apprehension.

She came closer again, slapping his hand away from his lips, instead rubbing her finger along the fresh cut, whispering, “This is what I wanted to see on you…”

He was astounded, yet still standing firm on his subservient ground. He wouldn’t deny her … not ever! Next moment, a shudder passed through him as She deliberately and vehemently jabbed the pointed heel of her shoe on his right upper thigh to emphasize her next sentence, “ I’m going to make you face hell today. To make you realize what ‘pain’ really means, what ‘endurance’ really means…”

He tensed up yet stayed still, as seconds passed that felt like eternity. She pushed down with her full might and he slightly bent forward with a yelp. She continued, “Do you know what will happen if you resist me today, don’t you??”

He couldn’t do anything but whimper involuntarily. She twisted her ankle, and her heel crushed more of his tender tissues. He almost screamed and held onto her foot.

She whispered with her clenched teeth, “ Don’t you, boy??”

He felt her expectation for an answer, as he let out a painful yes at which She raised her hand again, to slap him.

He completed, “yes…ma’am” with obvious cracking of his voice under sheer pain.


#2

The winds had calmed slightly and the night was getting quieter. It was almost like they were all watching Her depraved desiress turn real, silently. She was not to be denied tonight.

She wanted full surrender from him, total and abject submission of his will to her. He knew She wouldn’t accept anything less, and so he would give her all, all that he was, under each and every circumstances. She was already walking away from him when he reasoned the desires and probable dangers of the situation.

She turned around to look at him again; his hands folded on his lap as he was on settled on his knees, his legs tucked under his naked ass. He was looking down; contemplating, staring in empty space.

Did She see fear?? No! There wasn’t any.

He trusted her with his life; there was nothing to fear when he had given all of himself. But that brutal beast inside her head wanted him to fear Her, to fear the mere thought of Her touching him.

It wasn’t entirely possible though, not with him. He always welcomed her touch, however rough, ruthless or cruel it had been. So today, She was going to do whatever it takes to make him feel the emotions She wanted him to feel. She repeated in her mind with an evil smirk as She turned around and went to get her collection of devious devices – “ WHATEVER it takes!!”

Although he wasn’t afraid, he was at his wit’s end, at what was going happen to him. He tried to quiet the innate restlessness that he felt, and tried to figure out what she was doing while trying hard not to look up at her. Meanwhile, She took out some shackles and chains from the closet. He heard the clinking, and figured it was chains, of course! He closed his eyes, gulping, it was definitely not his lucky day!

She moved nearer to him, leisurely, like ephemeral breeze, yet to him She was like red-hot flames that night. He tried his best not to tremble as he felt her move yet closer. She watched him for some seconds before beginning her attack, staring at him like an excited predator ready to kill its prey. His slow, calm breathing and that look on his face – so pure, full of affection. Yet all She wanted to do was annihilation. Guilt had already begun to form, but the darkness was nonetheless overpowering, rampantly raging through Her blood, dulling and awakening her senses at the same time. In her zoned-out state of mind, destruction seemed rather a twisted form of creativity.

The moment approached as She reached forward with her left hand, unhurriedly putting down her fingertips on his right cheek one by one. He did not move, did not dare open his eyes either. But just let go, relaxed to her touch. She pressed her thumb a little rigidly over his already swollen bottom lip. He gasped, tensing his lean yet well-shaped body entirely. Everything froze for a moment, almost as if time stopped at that second longer than it should have.

Next, he relaxed, slightly parting his lips, exhaling a shaky moist sigh. He understood her so well already! She smiled wicked and scraped her nail over his lower lip, tough enough to hurt. He moaned a little and reacted to it with parting his lips further, taking her thumb inside, enveloping it with his tongue. He slowly leaned forward; taking her thumb completely in, then slowly licked back to its tip ending it with a small kiss, taking a deep audible breath that sounded like a needy groan. She smiled again, She knew what he was doing, and he knew it too. It was a risky game he was playing, but then again, She had expected it already!

She traced her thumb a straight way down to his chin from his lip. Raising his face higher and backwards, She made sure her nail devilishly dug in his soft skin all the time, leaving a long scratch mark. He gave in, as usual, going along with her maneuvers. She racked her nail further down, ending at his throat. He sighed, but nevertheless arched his back and leaned closer.

She pressed her thumb on his throat harder, cutting off his air supply. He stayed calm for a while as clock went ticking.

20 seconds. He opened his eyes, and looked at her. There’s nothing he could see other than desire, that senseless desire of destruction. She gripped his throat tighter.

40 seconds. It was becoming almost unbearable for him. The darkness was intensifying, their sights locked with each others, like in a silent battle.

A few seconds over a minute. Battle has ended, She won… of course. He struggled so she would allow him some air. He tried to lean back and away and She clutched him tight, yet not letting him breath. He struggled more, trying to hold her hands as little dark spots were faintly appearing in front of his eyes. She held his throat tightest for another few seconds; making him look at her, look at her dark eyes. He suddenly knew what he had to do, he let go of her hands, stopped struggling and pleaded with all his ability in a quiet whisper, “ please…”

She smiled. She freed him, and he slumped back, still on his knees, breathing fast and deep to compensate the lack.

She still had an evil winning smile on her as She grabbed his hairs and pulled him up to his feet. His chest was still rising and falling fast while She dragged him to the nearby table and laid him face down, half way on it. Before he could catch his breath completely, She shoved a cloth rag in his mouth to gag him, and tied his arms and ankles to table legs, taut and stretched. He passively took in, almost defeated after a little futile struggle.

She regained her composure; looking at his smooth unmarked back once she was finished tying him up. She whispered coldly in his ears from behind, “ Better not spit that out!!”

He nodded, trying to relax. She wondered for a moment, what was she going to use to mark him today. Suddenly the answer was right infront of her, Her Leather Belt it was. Open blows with it were unmercifully damaging. The wicked sounds, the color it produced on him, mmmmm. She knew She had chosen the best tool for her painting that time.

In any case, Painting was one form of ‘art’ that pleased her immensely.


#3

She caressed the leather of her belt, the one that has been frayed slightly after being used on many of her victims’ skin in past. It was her oldest weapon, the one that felt so comfortable, like an extension to her limb. The one that stayed with her longer than all of them put together.

He couldn’t see her, though he sensed it, he sensed her standing behind, watching him. She stood motionless for a while, making him wince at the anticipation of her cruel methods to cause him pain. She grabbed the belt buckle tight and looped the belt around her palm and wrist, making its length smaller. That way of handling the belt was more deadly – sharper and more precise.

She raised her hand for the attack. And his ordeal began. Sounds of leather meeting the flesh echoed around her room and slightly faint sounds of his groans through the gag joined in soon enough.

She continued, for a good long time. In fact, she lost count – of minutes that passed, of number of lashes she landed on his burning back. Only thing that she saw was the change of color on her canvas. Blushing pink to deep maroon. Her blows were superbly precise; never repeating a lash on the same place twice. She didn’t leave any area of his back unmarked.

After a while, his whole back side seemed to be on fire. Warmth from his body was coming off of his back in tiny vapors. He was still struggling in his bondage, trying to get away from the pain. His body involuntarily wiggling, pulling on chains that bind him, wishing for the burn to stop. The inaudible sounds from his gagged mouth continued.

She had no idea how long it had been since she started. Her world was totally focused on her canvas, she was creating a real painting! His groaning had converted into screaming a long time back, and now only exhausted sobs remained. His body was limp, he had ceased to struggle and he was probably about to pass out, when she finally stopped.

But she wasn’t finished yet.

She left him hanging there in his bondage, still in agony, to retrieve other colors to add to her work. When she came back, she brought along an aroma of burning wax, he shuddered as he sensed it. She was partly amazed at his tenacity; he still managed to tense up his body.

She started her artistic endeavors again, this time with blue and white candles. Those colors added a layer to the maroon from the lashes. Muffled moans continued along with the dripping wax. Layer after layer, she was almost done with the artwork she was in process of creating.

She let out a long breath, moving away, as she admired her work with satisfaction. He was covered in multiple colors. She deduced that the wax must sting terribly on his back, as he had still kept his eyes tightly shut, his face was stricken, contorted in pain. His tears had dried but beads of sweat rolled down from his forehead to his chin.

She touched his cheek with fingers softly. He flinched at first, but relaxed almost instantly. He tried to move closer to her fingers, like her touch was healing him, relieving him of his pain. He opened his eyes to look at her, and the darkness he saw shocked him.

She spoke in a whisper, “ My painting is almost finished. Only thing remains – my signature.”

He looked at her flabbergasted. Hanging on her words to know what more was in store for him.

She smiled for the first time then, “ I think I’ll sign it in – Red.”

She brought her hand in front of her, she was holding a sharp scalpel, its edge glinting in the light.

It was as if time froze. He was thoroughly terrorized. His gaze was locked with hers. She reached out to him and took his gag out. If he was going to beg or plead, she might as well enjoy it with his coherence.

He softly coughed, trying to soothe his dry irritated throat. He closed his eyes and opened them again, only to look at her with acceptance, a sort of capitulation.

He whispered as loud as his throat allowed him, “Go on… Please”

His begging for it made her tingle from inside. The build-up in her had reached the crescendo.

She walked closer, the hand holding the scalpel moved to his left shoulder. He clenched his teeth in anticipation. With a sharp flick she made a shallow cut, drawing her initials on his skin. He let out an unadulterated scream; she enjoyed it when he didn’t hold back.

The ordeal was over. She had got what she wanted. He had given all what he could.

The masterpiece was ready to be held close and made love to.

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