Spirit x Laysan: The Taste of Her
By atfirstdawn

*Mature content warning for BDSM themes
*© Keira Morrison/ atfirstdawn 2012-13


I could feel the sting of the razor wire gag as if it were still coiled around my mouth.

I was sat at the kitchen table, my newly rope burnt and lesion laden elbows and wrists lying flat in front of me as I tried to keep my movements to a bare minimum. Laysan, my American girlfriend and loving domme was continuing to flit around the kitchen, dragging milk from the fridge and cups from the cupboard in preparation for our evening hot chocolate.

Eventually she came to sit beside me at the table; it had only been ten or so minutes since we had left our bedroom to come downstairs and into the kitchen, but already my wounds had crusted over with crowns of black blood. Without moving my hands from where they lay on the table, Laysan entwined her fingers with mine, gently caressed my unmarked skin and smiled lovingly at me. Staring back at her, I drank in the fresh stinging and slicing pain at the corners of my mouth as I stretched my lips to return a pleasurably twisted smile of my own…

Our day together hadn’t been much different from others that we had shared in the past; hanging by handcuffs and sharp frayed rope from the hooks in our bedroom wall with my toes barely touching the floor was something that we had done numerous times before. Her use of whips, crops and spiked paddles against my scarred body wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for us either. We had even used the razor wire as a gag more than once too; but even though we hadn’t done anything new to each other, our familiar actions hadn’t diminished the excitement of our time together…

Still smiling, daring not to move my mouth again for a moment or two, I watched Laysan’s eyes scan my face and take note of the overall damage the razor wire had left on my skin.

“Treating all of that is going to hurt like hell.” She said to me with a slight concern in her voice even though she knew I would enjoy it.

I nodded my head in response and relaxed my lips. I had wanted to reply to her with a sarcastic comment, something like: ‘And this doesn’t hurt like hell already?’ Or ‘looking forward to it’, but thought it in my best interest to just silently agree with her for now.

A loving moment passed between us as Laysan kept her eyes trained on the wounds that covered my lips and circled my face.

In the background a faint bubbling sound caught Laysan’s attention. With another smile she took her hands from mine, stood and made her way to the boiling milk that she had left in the pan.

“Do you want anything to go with this?” she asked kindly with her back turned to me.

I raised an eyebrow knowing that she had asked with her back to me on purpose so that a nod or shake of my head wouldn’t suffice as an answer.

“No” I replied with a soft tone and a grimace as my mouth opened wider than I had expected it to, sending a delicious spike of agony through my senses.

Returning to the table, Laysan placed my cup of hot chocolate between my hands and set hers in front of her as she sat back down in the chair she had been in moments earlier. I looked down at my cup with a half-scared-half-excited expression…  

“Now comes the fun part” She said with a warm tone as she stared at me with her head in her hands.

With a weak and sarcastic smile as a response I slowly began to open my mouth…

The familiar taste of thick iron crept into my mouth, a taste I had associated with Laysan early on in our relationship, as the first of the clotted crowns of blood began to crack at the corners of my lips. I could hear my own rushed and wavering breaths as I closed my eyes and continued to open my mouth; the searing pain feeling as if a knife of ice were being dragged through my flesh and slicing at the back of my eyes… A hot flush and the rapid beating in my chest betrayed my distaste for the pain as I lowered my head, clenched my fists and felt the outside of my core and jaw become warm and wet.

Stretching my lips as far apart as was physically possible for them; I moaned out loud with a long pain-filled and pleasured sigh as the final tearing sensation between my lips coursed through my face and extremities and brought a fresh stinging sweat to the rest of the welts and lacerations across my body.  

I moaned again and again between breaths as the stinging of my fresh sweat and tortured mouth encompassed my senses and made me feel light headed and dizzy...  

I collected myself as the pain dulled. I opened and closed my mouth a series of times, my raw lips pulling against the-already-sticky fresh blood that lined them as I familiarised myself with the motion.

With one last long sigh I smiled to myself and turned to Laysan who still had her head resting in her hands.

“Christ…” she said with a half amused expression as she dropped her hands to her cup, clasped it and brought it up to her lips.

Raising both of my eyebrows mockingly in response to her I proceeded to take my own cup in my hands. The cracking crowns of blood on the fresh lesions of my wrists barely fazed me compared to what I was currently feeling everywhere else as my lips touched the porcelain.

The hot chocolate tasted sweet yet bitter in my mouth as it combined with the blood that had leaked into my mouth… This was the way I enjoyed it most. The mixture of the liquid chocolate and my blood didn’t taste of either inside of my mouth; instead, it was something else entirely…

I set my cup back down in front of me, its rim covered in a dark blood that became lighter as it ran down the side in a thin trickle. Beside me, Laysan set her cup down too, pulled me close with a long bare arm and kissed me.

In her mouth I could taste the familiar mixture of blood and chocolate that tasted like neither between her soft perfect lips.

I kissed her again and again, wanting more of a taste each time, not of the chocolate or blood but of her. She was that indefinable taste of all of my bitter-sweet painful pleasures.