In the very dark of the night, She walks slowly over to his bound and stretched form; the one full of contempt. His words raking her soul yet no sign of, relinquish here, her anger kept bound along with her sadness. She closely looks at his sagging body, Tired now after all these hours he passed being suspended. She listens for a proof of his living, and his shallow breathing followed by a sarcastic comment gives her one, “Look Who’s HERE” His words still gives her deep burns on her whole being.
She lit some candles to make him know of what she is in for tonight… At Her waist belt a knife is shining in the darkness. The knife, her true love, gleaming and ready for action. The knife always Obedient to her hands, slicing through the outer layers of his flesh whenever she wished.
This time the gleaming knife saws through him again; his teeth clenched in a mixture of helpless rage and pain.
The stinging sensation continues as she drags the knife over the previously made wound; deeper each time. The blood snaking down his chest to his toes, the drips echoing off the walls torturing him a pleasure.
Leaning in to taste the salty delicacy, he feels her tongue slide across the wound bringing upon him even more pain. He quivers as she brings the knife to his hip. His arms locked in place above his head, struggling against his bonds fruitless. His toes barely touching the floor he yearns to escape. She slices his hip, quickly and dramatically as if acted out from a script. He struggles for a few seconds, and then almost losing hope stops his struggle against the impossible. She sees this and continues with her crusade for pain.
Leaning over him, his abdomen mere inches away, she tickles him, an odd change of events, with her tongue. He enjoys this; the knife flashes as she slices his inner thigh. A light dribble of blood flowing out, quickly she goes to lap this new development up. Enjoying the over all sensation, he believes this is a turn for the better.
How wrong he is. She continues to cut him in various areas, and lick away the blood. Pricking one of his nipples, she sucks hard on it; his eye’s watering from it. She squeezes it till blood flows forth. Making him love it, and hate it at the exact same moments. She burns with hatred.
Lowering herself she takes him into her mouth. Sliding the shaft in and out, bringing him to his peak. Yet denying him place of exit, he must hold it all in. Burning sensations grip his body. She slowly looks towards him. Fully taking him in; his body covered with a thin layer of sweat, his eyes intense, his teeth clenched, and his mind an open book. Her hatred grows as she watches him. She sees right through him. He is an object to be used and abused as often as wanted. He doesn’t live but for her rage.
She stand up, not giving him his so waned pleasure… he whimpers loud; unbelievably a tear runs down his face. She looks at him, comes close, and wraps her legs around him, taking his hardness inside. As he grunts his pleasure, she drags the blade across his throat, a last cut with an only dark thought, “Merely a slave… totally expendable. Not needed. Not wanted.”