My Night with Gillian (part 2)
By atfirstdawn

*mature content warning for BDSM and torture
*©Keira Morrison/ atfirsdawn 2012

*Dedicated to DarkLordMenchi


Her wet, dark red thigh glistened under the icy moonlight beautifully beneath the wire mesh of her shallow prison as her hot, sweating body shook with pain. She trembled with what I knew to be the unbearable need for a pleasurable release…

To me, the sight of her warm and red seeping liquid under the cold moonlight was one that I couldn't take my eyes away from. It was a vision which intoxicated me more so than her grey tear-filled eyes, her tightly gagged mouth and her full and firm breasts, which still spilled through the small openings of the wire mesh that blanketed her body. Each of her uncomfortable and pleading moans were like an accompanying medley of ballads that complimented the calm flowing motion of her blood that had begun to drip from her thigh and fill the base of her coffin-like prison.

With a dry tongue I licked my lips and continued to stare…

Eventually her flow of dark red slowed and dried into a thin coat over her tortured pale skin. Swallowing hard and exhaling a long and wavering sigh, I retrieved the tip of the blade from her still trembling thigh. I pulled it up and out from the small square opening of the wire mesh as she moaned again, begging and pleadingly.

With a grin, I set the ice-pick down to one side and lowered my body and face closer to her blood coated thigh beneath the mesh and began to run my hands through my sweat soaked hair. Without moving an inch within her tight restricting bonds, her body convulsed and writhed at the newly stinging sensation as I let the excess fluid from my hair drip through the mesh and into the raw and exposed flesh beneath the hole in her skin. With her bonds keeping her in place beneath me and her gag keeping her deliciously silent, I ran my hands through my hair again and again, filling each hole I had made in her thigh with the warm, wet and salty liquid from my own body.

Hooking my newly damp hair behind my ears while fighting back and excited smile, I pursed my lips and gently blew into each of her tortured wounds with an affectionate and caressing breath to dry the fluids within them.  After a little while longer I finally let myself smile to the tune of her muffled moans and turned my attention from her thigh to meet her wide and tear-filled grey-eyed gaze.

As I Lay my body wholly over the metal lattice covering her prison, I felt her wince and twitch beneath me; my silk covered breasts had pressed against the sensitive and horribly raw protuberant skin of her own just outside and above the mesh. The smouldering heat of our room and her past struggles and convulsions had taken effect and made circulation difficult under her tight confinement.  

I shot her a playful smile and watched as she tried her best to turn her face away from me beneath the heavy strap that kept her head in place. Eventually she stopped straining her neck and instead narrowed her eyes at me in defiance. Taking the ice-pick from where I had set it aside, I watched her eyes widen as I fed the tip of its needle tipped shaft back through a small square and held it over her throat. My gaze was cold and commanding as I watched her take careful and deep breaths to avoid being cut. Eventually she fell obedient, her eyes softening and muscles relaxing within her prison. With a smirk I removed the ice pick and began tugging at the lace lining of her maids uniform, pulling it down under the squared mesh until her left breast was completely exposed.

Moving and lowering my head to her naked breast, I opened my mouth and let my tongue circle her nipple which lay between the gaps of the mesh.

Moments later I stopped licking her breast when I felt her nipple become hard and erect between my lips and teeth. As I had done earlier with the wounds on her thigh, I gently blew over her nipple and waited until the thin coating of my saliva had dried completely before bringing the ice-pick between us again.

In keeping my promise of saving her breasts for last I start pressing the needle-like tip of the blade against her prominent nipple. Her protests are short and sharp whimpers that accompany each slow and soft push of the blade into her hard flesh. Reaching through the mesh above her mouth I pressed my finger against her harsh three layered gag and told her to be quiet as I twisted the metal tip against the side of her nipple; the visitation leaving a small dot of crimson as proof of her torture. Closing her eyes, breathing deeply and tensing her body within her bonds she remained quiet under my finger as I repeated the twisting of thin shaft's tip three more times.

Cold and silent tears fell from her eyes after the third impalement. Removing my finger from her gagged mouth, I lowered my lips to her nipple and took it into my mouth. With the ice-pick removed and my tongue pressed against her tortured nipple she began to moan again at the fresh stinging of my warm saliva that seeped into her wounds. Setting the ice-pick down beside me once more, I moved my hand to her waist, fed my fingers through the mesh and hooked them under and around her crotch-rope as I continued to lick at her hard nipple.

Her gagged agonising gasps quickly became deep nasal breaths of pleasure as her body rocked against my fingers and the newly taut crotch rope. With each slow and self-fulfilling moan to softly emanate from her gag I replaced my tongue with my teeth against her nipple, causing her to moan longer and louder than before.

Each of her sighing breaths seemed to bring a new light into the room as she continued writhing against my fingers and the rope and into the day's dawn.

Eventually she let loose a moan that seemed to last forever, beginning with a timid squeak and ending in a drawn out dulcet tone that made my eyes heavy with a renewed lust for her. Removing my lips and teeth from her exhausted nipple, I pushed myself up on the mesh and looked down at her spent body. Her weary form glistened with sweat under the creeping amber of the day's beginning light. Her bloodied chest and breasts heaved against and through the mesh with a delicious suppleness. Even her grey eyes seemed to have a renewed spark as she looked back at me through her imprisoning lattice giving the impression that she would have smiled if she could.

"Good morning, Gillian." I said to her with a soft voice. As I turned my attention to the warm light of the cold dawn and the rain it had brought with it.