|Alyssa Milano and Misha Collins - I want my mummy!||[Jun. 7th, 2009|09:25 pm]|
[Backdated to Weekend of May 1]|
[Warnings: Mummification, sensory play]
[comments welcome and screened]
This is it. Their first weekend together as Master and slave. Misha would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous at all. Excited as hell, yes. Anticipating a great time. But a little nervous. After all, it's his first contract. And he knows he still has a lot to learn about actually implementing every skill with a real live submissive.
Nevertheless, he has a few things picked out at any rate. He's asked Alyssa to bring a pair of high heels that she can be locked into. They're doing this at her place since she's the one with both the full wardrobe and the money to buy things for the playroom. They'll probably go shopping for her cage tomorrow. For tonight, he'll start with some simple service from her and a sensory deprivation scene. Mummification.
His bags with his own clothing and toys in hand, he knocks on her door.
She's paced the loft more times than she cares to count, put on outfits only to remove them again and stare blankly into the expanse closet that holds everything from business suits to the skimpiest of outfits - including leather corsets and thongs to match - only to finally settle on a strappy little cami and tap pant set in soft pink. Her hair's down and loose around her shoulders and she's rambling to herself about keeping cool.
The largest guest room is ready and stocked with things she imagines they'll need there - first aid kit, a small fridge with mini bottles of water - it works, for now. Whatever they need other than the table and bed and accessories that she thought of immediately will come later, but for now it will suffice with a few toys and items.
Alyssa jumps at the knock then grins wide, checks her appearance in the mirror once then opens the door. "Hello there, stranger," she says with a smile as her belly fills with butterflies, "glad you made it."
"Hello, Alyssa," Misha says warmly, pulling Alyssa in for a kiss. He's still a bit jet-lagged from the trip to Australia and the crazy convention there, but it's nice to be back in L.A. And nice to see Alyssa again. He steps inside, and once he's past the foyer, he can see that the place is spacious and very upscale, with a large living room and dining area. "Wow. Nice place." It runs circles around his crappy little apartment.
Once she hears his voice, the butterflies seems to take their leave, but the kiss brings them back in the form of a calm excitement - if that's even possible - and she knows whatever happens will be okay. "Oh, thank you, believe me, I couldn't ever have afforded this on what I pulled in from the show, that's for certain, and what I do now, well..." with a shake of her head, she motions him in toward the main area. "Make yourself at home, the master bedroom is off there, and the others," she motions in the opposite direction, "that's where the...room is started. There's the kitchen, if you need anything, or want something specific, just let me know." Rambling, Lyssa, time to hush now.
Misha smirks. "The room," he repeats, the smirk becoming a leer. "This I have to see." He's aware that Alyssa has more experience than him at this slavery business, and that she may have a few toys, though it's likely that her former Sir had most everything. He walks in the direction indicated, to a bedroom larger than his. It's sparse at the moment. But yes, he can already imagine the kinds of tortuous devices to put in here. "Your cage will go in my bedroom. I want to have you close at hand."
She follows, just a couple of steps behind, to the room where she knows that, at some point, will hear her screams. Alyssa watches Misha, how his mind seems to go to work the moment he enters the space and she smiles as a shiver works its way through her at the mention of her cage - the place she's bound to spend a good deal of time - and where it will go. "I like that idea, you keeping an eye on me in it." She smiles then waves a hand around the room, "I had it sound-proofed," she says with a blush, "actually all the bedrooms are now." Alyssa turns with a mischievous grin, "Not that it matters much, since the entire level below us is empty."
That gets a laugh and a grin. "Good idea," Misha says. He sets down his toybag, which can stay in this room for the moment. "Show me the rest of the place, then? And are we keeping your master bedroom off limits for play, or is that another decision I get to make?" He needs to understand what all he has permission to do here. It's not neutral space like the club. This is her home, after all.
Alyssa nods as she moves back to the main living area and smiles as she shakes her head, "No, it's not off limits for play, nowhere is really." She looks back to him with a soft laugh, "It does have a really plush ivory carpet though, so blood might definitely be a bad thing in the fibers. The bathroom, well the master bath, is off the side of the bedroom and there's a walk-in closet there as well." She takes him through the kitchen and dining area, "If you want a certain food, just yell, I can cook just about anything except I never have gotten Polynesian cooking down." Alyssa points toward the row of French doors, "...and there's the terrace."
Misha snorts softly. "Yeah, we definitely will keep to non-messy play in the Master bedroom then, if we use it." He's not sure he's comfortable yet with the idea of using it at all. Perhaps once they're more familiar with each other. He raises one eyebrow at her mention of Polynesian cooking, but then his ears prick at the mention of the terrace. "Can I see?" He heads over to open the doors and step outside, to take a look at the view.
She smiles at the look on his face, "That's one thing Duke did was train me in cooking all sorts of dishes and styles..." Alyssa motions toward the terrace then smiles as she follows his out, "I like that it faces the North, you can still see the sunsets and sunrises." She moves closer to him, remaining quiet for a moment, "I'm glad you're here," she says, looking up with a soft smile, "I know this is new, but I want you to feel comfortable here. If there's anything I can do, please...let me know."
He looks at the view for a moment, enjoying it, and then steps back inside, crossing over to Alyssa to pull her into a hug. "I'm glad I'm here too. All right . . . any questions, comments, things you want to talk about? I can give you a brief run down of how I see this weekend going if you want. Or you can remain in the dark and I can surprise you." He chuckles.
"Mmm, I definitely think that a certain amount of surprise is a very good thing, so...maybe the bare basics or whatever, then play by ear on the rest." She leans up, kissing his jaw, "Later, we can talk more, before things are full-time. I do want to talk about a sort of...safe spot in the house, once we're together." She suddenly blushes, eyes lowering, "Listen to me, I'm goin on about when. Guess you know where my mind is at least."
"Safe spot? Can you elaborate on that?" Misha wants to know all her concerns before he lays out a plan. He smiles at her little comment. "That's okay. That's hope--that's a good thing."
She thinks for a moment on how best to explain, having never actually needed one with Duke, since the man never even raised his voice to her. "I've seen it used, a slave friend of mine from when I was with Duke had one." She looks up at him with a smile, "Even masters and slaves argue. A safe spot is a private area that a slave can go to until they calm down. Nothing is held against them when they go there, and the master can't forcibly remove them from it, but the knowledge is that once both are calmed down, they'll talk about things."
Misha nods. "We'll consider that, then. I may want you to keep your Master bedroom separate from our activities, possibly as your 'safe spot'. You should have a place that remains yours, and outside the whole slave persona." He grins. "But I definitely want to use the Master bath, though."
"That's a good idea. But, Misha, I don't want you to feel like any place here is totally off limits. If I go there as my safe spot, then yeah, but otherwise..." Alyssa grins at the idea of the bathroom, nudging him with her shoulder. "Just so long as you remember to put the seat down...else you'll hear me scream in the middle of the night when my butt hits the cold water. I'll have to introduce you to the jacuzzi tub in there." She gives him a wicked little grin, "It's bigger than the one in your bathroom."
That gets a snort. "You haven't seen my bathroom. Hell, it's probably bigger than my entire bathroom." He looks in, and sure enough, he could probably fit his entire bathroom in there. Well at least his place isn't horribly expensive. He nods at her other words, and then turns to look at her, wicked light in his eyes. "Time to get you dressed for your part. Or undressed, I should say. Just the shoes. And a collar--a leather one will do for now." That's another thing he'll have to go shopping for.
She smiles and shakes her head, "No you goof, I mean the bathroom in your bedroom here...it has a smaller tub, but it's still a jacuzzi." Hoping that Misha doesn't feel odd about her place, she smiles softly as he turns and looks at her, his eyes having that wicked glint they did the night he played with the knife on her. Dark lashes flutter and she smiles, "The shoes are in the playroom closet and I have a small collar, it's plain, but..." It's more like a thick choker, but it will work for now. "Do you want me to bring them to the living room?"
"Sounds good. I'll sit on the sofa and watch." Misha grins. Yes, he plans to have her perform a bit for him tonight. "And dinner--something simple is fine. Pasta and chicken, maybe?" And yes, he plans to leave her in the nude for the whole cooking thing. That should definitely put her right into sub space.
Alyssa smiles as she moves toward the playroom then calls back, "The end table drawer? There are two small padlocks in it with the key if you'd pull them out please." She can feel herself already slipping into a different mood - a different attitude - and oddly enough it calms the butterflies inside. The shoe's heels are high but should be okay with them there, though she can imagine some very sore feet later. Snagging the shoes and the collar, she makes her way back to Misha and stands before him.
Misha's nerves are settling as well, as he pulls the padlocks out of the drawer and sits down on the sofa to watch Alyssa undress. He holds them openly in his hand where she can see them. "This should work nicely." He slowly rubs himself through his trousers, emphasizing that while he already likes what he sees with Alyssa, he's going to like this even more.
She stands there, eyes on the locks, then takes a deep breath, "They're high...the heels, but they fit well enough." Alyssa pauses for a moment then slips the straps slowly from her shoulders - the camisole material gliding across her skin before she grips the hem and tugs it gently up over her head then drops it to the table behind her. "Hope you like the show, Sir." Wiggling her hips as she slides her thumbs into the band of the pant, Alyssa smiles as the material slides down and falls free. "Would you care to put the shoes on me?"
"Sit on the couch and put your feet on my lap," Misha says with a nod. Yes, even better than watching her put the shoes on is putting them on her himself. He waits until she gets into position, then slides on each shoe, fastening them so that they're tight but not too tight. Then he attaches the padlocks, carefully pocketing the keys. He lifts one dainty high heel and then the other up to his lips, giving them each a little kiss. "Now kneel so I can put on your collar."
Utterly and thoroughly mesmerized by the process as he slips the shoes on her feet, Alyssa can't pull her eyes away and she watches with a warm smile as he kisses each foot. She has no doubt that by the time the heels come off her feet, and therefore, her entire body will ache, but she can't think of a better reason or way to be. Alyssa rotates her feet, getting a feel for the heels then nods. "Yes Sir," she says with a smile, eyes still on her feet, "this will be interesting." She slips from the couch and kneels, facing away from him, reaching back to gather her hair up for the collar to be fitted.
Yes it will, Misha agrees. He slips the collar onto Alyssa's throat, fastening it so that it's not too tight, but she'll definitely be aware of it. "Very pretty," he compliments her, petting her hair. "Tell me how you feel. Are you wet for me yet?"
A flurry of lightening bolts race through her veins as the collar is put in place and secured and, though her body never moves, dark lashes drift closed and a smattering of goosebumps cover her flesh. Alyssa sinks back, does her best to adjust to the heels under her, leaning into the touch of his hand. She doesn't turn but her eyes open, "I've been wet, Sir, since you closed the first padlock on my shoes."
Misha chuckles, playing with her hair a little. "Good. Because some time while you're preparing dinner, I may just come up behind you and want to fuck you." Let her think about that while she's about her chores.
She sinks back just a bit more, loving the feeling of his fingers in her hair then closing her eyes and letting out a long, soft sigh, Alyssa decides that this will be a very long weekend and she wonders exactly how many hours the man will keep her on the sexual edge before she completely comes unraveled. "Of course, Sir." Her eyes close, teeth capturing lower lip as she feels her pussy clench tight. "I am yours, after all."
The question is not so much how long he can keep her on edge--but more like how many times he can drive her over the edge, over and over. "Go make dinner," he tells her, dropping his hands into his lap and sitting back. He still has plans for later as well. It's going to be a long evening.
Alyssa pushes up to stand, wobbling just a bit on the heels before gaining her footing in them - definitely interesting to cook in the things - then reaches over to hand Misha the remote controls. "This is for the television and this one the players...the buttons are labeled on it, Sir." Sir... Oh she likes that. With a soft smile, she makes her way toward the kitchen, deciding chicken fettuccine and salad would definitely work. "What dressing on your salad, Sir?"
"Italian or some version of it," Misha replies, switching on the T.V. He has little intention of actually watching it--not when Alyssa's cooking naked in the kitchen. But the noise will be nice. He smiles as she wobbles a little in the shoes . . . yeah, he doesn't plan to keep her on her feet too terribly long. But until then, he'll enjoy the way it makes her calves and her ass look.
Making quick work of things in the kitchen, Alyssa soon has the chicken strips grilling on the open grill in the island, and the sauce well on its way. "Have to say, Sir," she says, moving about the kitchen, "this is one of the oddest ways I've ever dressed to make a meal." The shoes aren't so bad and she realizes quickly that, with every step, if she listens closely, she can hear the ting of the padlock against the metal ring.
"How long does this take?" Misha asks, standing in the doorway to watch her. Yes, it's probably the oddest for him too. But it's also a fantasy made real. "Bend over more when you're at the stove. Display for me." And yes, he knows he's making things more complicated. But this is their first day, and he wants to take advantage of it.
"Oh! You scared me!" Alyssa jumps, grabs the counter as she steadies herself on the shoes then laughs softly. "Not good to sneak up on a girl with hot Alfredo sauce near her naked body, Sir." She moves to stir the sauce, watching it, as she pokes her butt out behind her. Bending at a stove when you're short has to be very carefully monitored. Glancing back to Misha with a smile, she checks the noodles, "Getting ready to get everything rounded up now, Sir. The salad is ready." She motions to the wrought iron dining table that sets just off the kitchen in front of a large bay window.
Misha's lips quirk at her antics, as he makes his way to the table. He looks around and finds a throw pillow, and carefully sets it on the floor by his chair, then sits down. "Serve just one plate, double portions. Do you have some wine to drink or something? I can open and pour that." He's not a complete lazy ass, after all. And while it would be amusing to watch wine spill over her naked breasts, he'd rather that be done in a controlled manner.
More than aware of Misha's eyes on her and the humor he finds in her predicament, Alyssa just smirks at him then watches as he retrieves the pillow and drops it down beside his chair. "Of course, Sir." Alyssa smiles as she begins to fix his plate and motions with her head toward a small door off the side of the kitchen. "The wine's just there. Pick whatever you like, and...oh, the glasses and such are around the back of the bar by the window, thank you." With Misha's plate fixed and a bowl of warm bread, Alyssa makes her way to the table.
"I think you know what to do--place the food on the table, then kneel at my feet on the pillow," Misha instructs, as he goes to get the wine. He uncorks a nice chardonnay and pours two glasses, setting them at his pace setting as he sits down again.
It takes a bit of shifting to get the heels of the shoes to not poke into the pillow or into her backside, but she's soon settled on the pillow, hands in her lap. Eating from another's hand isn't anything new, since it's something that Duke enjoyed with her; eating from the hand of one that is to become her master is something entirely new and completely exhilarating.
Not to disappoint her, Misha first offers her a sip of wine. "Thank you for dinner," he says. Gratitude should be every bit as much a part of the dom's role as servitude is the role of the slave. Once she's taken a sip, he spears a ripe tomato slice with his fork and offers it to her.
Licking at her lips to catch a drop of wine, Alyssa smiles upward, "Thank you, Sir. It's been a long time since...well, since I've cooked for this reason." And it felt better than Alyssa could imagine then sitting there with her eyes on her Sir, she leans in, sliding the tomato from the fork, chewing slowly.
Misha takes a few bites of salad first, followed by a sip of wine, and then tries some of the fettuccine, nodding as he offers Alyssa more to eat. "It's actually the first time I've dined in this way. I think I like it." He smiles back at her, enjoying the sight, the feel of this. It feels right. It's amazing how right it feels.
Settling a bit more into the pillow, she watches him eat until he offers up another bite. And it occurs to her that, once they enter into a full-time master and slave area, he will be the one to judge most everything for her - when to eat, where to go, how to eat - just as he is now, and she very much likes the idea. "Really?" She asks after chewing and swallowing her food, "You're doing well, Sir. Haven't hit my nose or anything yet," she says with a teasing lilt in her voice.
That gets a smirk. "Oh just wait until we're having something like chocolate pudding. Then I'll probably dribble it all down your front." He grins. "And then lick it off." He carefully twirls the noodles on the fork, offering it to her.
Alyssa laughs at the idea. "Reminds me of a shoot I did once where they covered me in mud." Looking up, her dark eyes widen as she shakes her head, "Trust me, not all mud is therapeutic. Think I'd like the chocolate pudding idea better." She takes the bite, laying her cheek against his leg for a moment as she chews. Oh yes, very nice.
Misha makes a face. "I'm not a big fan of mud either." He eats quietly for a moment, pausing every now and then to offer Alyssa both food and drink and just enjoying things. He feels so happy. It's strange. Something as simple as this shouldn't do that. But it does. "You don't know how long I've waited to do this."
"There are places mud should never reach,"she says with a light laugh, "they're more than willing to douse you in mud, not so willing to get it off of you." It's more than a little odd to sit there and be fed, but she likes it a lot more than she ever did with Duke. There's more of a place with Misha instead of it simply feeling like she's on a picnic of sorts. Alyssa looks up with a teasing grin, "You've waited to feed me?" She leans in, nuzzling at his thigh and turns dark eyes upward, "...or to have me at your feet?"
"Both, I think. The whole experience," Misha answers, and decides he's about full. "Still hungry? Or are you ready to be my victim for a little while?" He gives an evil smile at the word 'victim'. Yes, it's time to move into the sadistic portion of the evening.
Alyssa gives a shake of her head, "I'm full I think, had a big late breakfast today." She looks up with a smile then nods. "Your victim? Not sure I fit the whole victim thing, but...definitely." Pushing to stand, she stops herself then waits. "Need to use the bathroom first."
"Good girl," Misha tells her--he probably would have offered her a chance to use the bathroom before what he has in mind, but it's good to see she's remembered her protocols. "Yes, you may use the bathroom. You may get up now to go use it, and once you are done, I want you to stand by the bed in my bedroom with your arms by your sides. I'll be there shortly." He has to get a few things from his toybag first.
"Thank you, Sir." Alyssa pushes up then and smiles, the act more strange than she'd planned on by highly more arousing as well. She wobbles slightly on the heels, her feet having gone a little numb, but she quickly rights herself then heads toward the bathroom. In no time, she's finished there and standing at Misha's bed, hands to her side, wondering just what the man has in store for her.
Misha brings out several items, but keeps them hidden under a blanket--all except for a blindfold, an mp3 player with noise-canceling earphones, and some very large rolls of cellophane in blue and gold. "Figured you'd look good in blue," he tells her conversationally as he gets the yellow roll started. He lays the clear wrap against her ankles, and proceeds to wrap her like a mummy. "Guess what we're doing this evening."
Watching everything with more than a growing curiosity, Alyssa tries to see everything he has but her eyes immediately fall to the rolls of colored wrap. She remains stills, not having been told to move, but the feel of the stuff on her skin has her squirming. "You're going to vegetable wrap me?" It doesn't take but a moment for the idea to become more than clear and Alyssa stares with wide eyes. "Sir...uhm, what are we doing?"
"Mummification," Misha answers matter-of-factly, as he continues to wrap her lower legs, layer after layer. "And sensory deprivation. Ever done that?" He's guessing no on the first, but sensory deprivation is a little more common. The comment about 'vegetable wrap' has him chuckling. "If you like bondage, which I know you do, I think you'll really enjoy it. Or you'll really hate it." It tends to go one way or the other. At the moment, he doesn't really care which end of the spectrum she falls under. It's more her willingness to trust him that he's after.
"Oh, well that's...wait, what?" Alyssa's eyes widen and her chin drops as she bends to stare down at her legs. "Mummification?" Shaking her head, she stares down once more, "No Sir, 've never done that, I've only done the sensory thing once, but it wasn't anything like this." Trying to move, just to see what kind of give she has in the material, she quickly discovers that movement isn't happening. Alyssa watches him continue to work the wrap around her legs, "And if I hate it, Sir?" The tiny smile can barely be seen but the sparkle in her dark eyes gives everything away - if she hates it, that will only make it better.
Misha gives her an evil smile. "Well then I'll have to remember that for the future. So that I can use it as a punishment." He doesn't miss the sparkle. It's definitely going to be interesting with Alyssa; half of the stuff that she says she hates, he thinks deep down she really loves. He continues wrapping her, now moving up to her knees. "And stay still. Or I'll make you stand the entire time." With those shoes, he knows that's really not something she'll want to do.
"Punishment? You'd use this as punishment, Sir?" Alyssa can definitely see where the outcome of this could be used as that and she tries to wiggle more as he reaches her knees - the words stopping her dead in her tracks, however. "Yes Sir, sorry. I'll be still, do my best to. I don't want to stand." That idea keeps her legs completely still, the shoes are already pinching some, the idea of standing however long he'll have her in the wrap does not set well. Her eyes suddenly widen and she stares at him as he works. "Sir, how...how far up? The wrap. How far are you going with it?" Alyssa now understands the other items she sees - she won't be able to hear or see.
"To your shoulders," Misha answers, working on her thighs now. "You'll be completely immobilized. Like a cocoon." And yes, this is where the trust comes in. "And you're going to find out how neat this stuff is. Like, you can cut holes in it. To poke certain places." He gives a wolfish grin.
Looking down, she watches intently as he continues the trek upward. "Well, I always did like butterflies," she says with a sly grin back to him. Standing still is quickly proving to be more interesting in the shoes that moving about and the balls of her feet begin to ache - the need to shift on them growing. "Poke places? Oh. Ngh...my feet are aching." Wiggling her toes in the shoes, she bites down on her lip, suddenly realizing just how wet she really is.
"Not much longer," Misha murmurs, now winding the wrap around her hips, right over the dark hair covering her womanhood. Definitely one area to cut a little access hole into. "Once I have you wrapped, I'll maneuver you onto the bed. I need you to stand, however, until that happens. Trust me--wrapping while you're lying prone doesn't work well." He smiles, moving up to her waist.
Closing her eyes as she fights the need to squirm, Alyssa discovers the true tightness of the wrap as Misha moves up to her torso - her legs no longer movable. "Maneuver me," she says with a light laugh, "translates into picking me up and seeing how high I bounce, doesn't it?" Alyssa smiles as he wraps across her hip, moving up to her belly, "Will I be able to breathe okay, or is this some odd form of breath play too?"
"You should be able to breathe just fine," Misha assures her, working her torso, up to her breasts. "I'm not doing corset training today." He smirks. "Though that's another thing I think I'd like to try with you. Once things are 24/7--it would never work on a weekend basis." Cinching her tighter and tighter . . . yeah. That could be fun.
The feel of the wrap over her breast, squeezing them against her body, brings a light whimper as she takes a deep breath, having no option now but to remain steady and still under the layers of wrap. "I've worn corsets before to clubs and out sometimes, but...training? You mean just keep making it tighter?" Dark lashes flutter closed as Alyssa tries to move her fingers, finding them to be held perfectly still and her head drops back before she meets Misha's face. "This's so strange, Sir."
"Since it's your first time doing this, I'm sure it is," Misha says with a grin, finally binding Alyssa's shoulders, now moving in an 'X' pattern to make sure her arms really are held securely at her sides and that the whole wrap will remain firm and tight. He tears off the wrap and seals it to itself. Now for the fun part. Carefully, he holds one arm behind her back and the other arm under her ass, and leaning her backwards, he lifts her so that he can lay her on her back on the bed, still bound tight, unmovable, a mummy. He's sure she must be thankful to be off her feet. "And yes--corset training is lacing a corset tighter and tighter."
She trusts him, she knows if she didn't she'd never even be considering entering into what she is, but that doesn't make the sudden inability to move as he secures her shoulders any less unnerving. When he leans her back, the feeling of falling brings eyes wide as she realizes that she can't catch herself. "Mish...Sir, sorry Sir, sorry, this is hard." Alyssa guides her breathing, keeping it as even as she can as he places her on the bed, knowing there's much more to come. She relaxes somewhat, breathing evening out more as she watches him. "So, a form of breath play and body mod? I've seen women with the tiny waists from it." She tries to move one last time then gives up. "Thank you, Sir, for letting me off my feet."
Misha smirks. "You're welcome. Actually, you should enjoy this scene--it doesn't require a whole lot from you and you can relax for most of it. And I don't plan on giving you an unnaturally tiny waist--as I said, I'm not into body modification. But yes, a bit of breathplay and the helplessness factor of corsets appeal to me." He runs his fingernails up her legs, knowing that even through layers of plastic wrap, she'll easily be able to feel him. One of the neat things about the wrap. "Now, I'm going to blindfold you. And I'm going to take away your hearing as well--you'll have some music and sounds to listen to instead. But remember this. I'm not gagging you. You can speak, and I'll hear you, even if you can't hear yourself. Tell me your safeword again." They're not playing without a net, not yet. And he likes to remind bottoms that communication is still possible even during sensory deprivation.
The idea of corsets actually sounds like a really wicked and fun way to play and since she's used to them, it wouldn't be something totally unfamiliar. "Staying still seems pretty easy, and just for reference, I look pretty damn good in a corset, Sir," she says with an easy smile. She tries to wiggle to situate herself on the bed and quickly discovers that moving is still not possible. Dark eyes widen as his nails trail up her legs and she smiles at the feeling, a little surprised that it's so strong with the plastic covering her. "Like the feel of your hands on me, even through plastic wrap." Alyssa nods to him in understanding. "Safeword's flute, Sir," she says, cocking her head a bit, "but I'm not seeing using it."
"Good girl," Misha tells her softly. He takes the blindfold and secures it firmly, then puts on her headphones, bending close as he turns on the soft eerie-sounding music--he's chosen some soundtrack music from things like Les Liaisons Dangereuse and The Pillow Book to make a playlist. With the music now playing in her ears, he proceeds to trail his fingers over her body in a random manner, tweaking a nipple through the plastic wrap here, scratching lightly at her stomach there. Letting her know that she'll have no way to predict where he touches her and how.
The moment her sight's taken from her, Alyssa can feel her heart race in her chest and that only increases as the headphones are situated over her ears and the music begins. Misha definitely knew what he was doing when he picked the song that begins to play and Alyssa is very nearly lost in the odd melodic tune when her body jolts to attention at the touch of a finger, a feel of a hand. "Mmmm, Sir...ohhgod!" She knows she's speaking, can feel the vibrations in her throat, but there's no way to gauge the level of her tone and for all she knows, she could be screaming or whispering. She does know, however, that the tweak to her nipple brings a hard yelp as she tries to arch against it and finds the plastic still holds her tight. She's already panting like mad and the teasing, she's sure, hasn't even begun.
That's lovely, Misha thinks, smiling as he reaches over for some of the items he has set aside to help torment Alyssa this evening. He flicks open a small knife--this one isn't terribly sharp, nor does it need to be. Tonight is less about cutting and more about pure sensation. He trails the knife tip up her leg, over her stomach, up her breast. She'll probably figure out what it is in a moment or two, and that's even better. Licking his lips, he pulls on the wrap at her nipple, lifting it away from her body, then slices a hole in the wrap. One nipple exposed to the cool air of the bedroom.
The whole thing is beyond surreal and more amazing than Alyssa could ever have imagined - damn that music in her ears and the fact she can't hear a thing. As much as she wants to move, the very fact that it's Misha controlling if she does or not already has her wet beyond reason and as she feels something glide up her body, and it suddenly becomes clear just what that something is, Alyssa shivers inside her cocoon of plastic, a gasp leaving her as the blade slides its way upward - hips, stomach, breast - then stops. The moment the plastic covering leaves her nipple, the dark pink nub draws tight, hardening in the sudden coolness. "Mmmm, Sir...so nice, thank you." She hopes the sound is coming out clear, solid enough to be understood.
Misha trails the knife tip on and around her nipple, flicking it with the dull side, and then he moves to her other nipple, carefully cutting a hole there as well. He leans over and sucks hard on it, lathing it with his tongue. She'll be able to feel a difference between where the heat is trapped by the wrap over most of her body, and the cool air on her nipples.
So many sensations - heat from inside the wrap, the hardness of the knife, wetness and warmth of Misha's tongue - and Alyssa's head drops back as she gasps out, doing her best to arch upward into the feeling of his mouth. The fact that the blade of the knife hovers somewhere above her - just above the wrap that covers her - has her heart pounding in her ears. "Sir, ohhyess." Thinking to open her eyes, she quickly realizes there's nothing to see and closes them once more, the music continuing to fill her ears.
Misha licks his lips. There's a lot he can do, and it's a chore now to contain himself when she's so obviously enjoying this, to draw this out a bit. He skims the knife over her stomach, up and down the insides of her thighs, and then back to her nipples, alternating that with the feel of his hand on her, rubbing up and down her arms, her groin, rubbing her pussy through the wrap. Yes, he plans to play with that part a bit more later. For now, touch is enough of a tease.
The music changes in her ears but doesn't stop, the tempo differs but not enough to really bring her mind to focus on it more than the amazing feelings that travel her body. The fact that she's completely bound in plastic - to her own amazement - only seems to heighten the sensations from the knife and Misha's hand, bringing whimpers and moans of pleas for more. Need to move, mmmgod, need...to...spread... What she wouldn't give to be able to spread her legs and let Misha at her - his fingers, the knife, a toy - she doesn't care with what, she just wants touched. "Sir, please Sir, more...please?"
"Oh I'll give you more," Misha says even though she can't hear him. He's very much enjoying her moans and her pleading. He takes the knife and cuts a triangle at the apex of her thighs--the better to access the most fun area. But then he doesn't do anything with it, reaching instead for a Wartenberger wheel, a tiny wheel with tiny, very pointy spikes. Which he then proceeds to roll around her nipples.
Alyssa stills the barely-there movements as she feels the tug against the plastic at her crotch and her mind goes wild as she wonders what next when the rush of cool air washes over her. There's a shiver under the wrap as cool meets heat making her moan softly as she waits for him to touch her - confused when that touch doesn't happen. "Sir?" The word is barely out before the pin-like bites hit taught nipples and toes curl against the shoes. "Ungha, Sir, ahhgod..."
Misha leans over and nibbles a path over Alyssa's throat--one area that is still unwrapped and accessible to him. "Yes, my girl," he murmurs, wondering if she'll be able to decipher that through the vibrations against her skin, as he continues to torture her with the wheel, pressing down hard enough now that it pricks and stabs her, creating tiny little holes that release red droplets of blood.
Turning her head in an attempt to make contact with Misha - any contact - Alyssa trembles under the wrap as she feels his breath against her throat. She knows there were words, but the actual meaning - the tone behind them - is lost on her as she strains toward him in an attempt to nuzzle at whatever part of him she can. The sharp pain hits, taking her breath for a moment as she feels the skin of her nipple give way. "Agheeaannngh! Oh, oh Sir! Hurts...it hurts." The playing song gives way to another and the beat seems to pound in time to her pulse, driving her.
Oh God, now that's beautiful. Misha groans, smiling at the sounds of her pain, and suddenly his pants are too tight and constricting. "That's it, baby," he murmurs, working the wheel around her other nipple, and then stopping for a moment--long enough to hurriedly pull his clothes off. Naked then, he just has to lie on top of her for a moment, pressing full length against her, luxuriously feeling all of her through the plastic, molding himself to her. Not that he's done playing, of course. He reaches over for a little vibrating plug. Then he forces it inside her, via the conveniently cut opening over her snatch, despite the tightness of her legs behind bound straight.
"Ow, ow...Sir! Sir!" Alyssa curses the wrap as she struggles to move against the pain in her nipples and then suddenly it stops and she goes still - waiting for what's next. What comes shocks her and her head goes back, neck bowing against the bed. Misha's weight on her combines with the wrap and she gasps out, trying to gain a breath under him. "Sir, please...you're heavy like this, please..." Alyssa squirms under him, wanting desperately to touch or feel anything - other than the wrap that binds her. "Sir? What're...what're you...ohhh! Owww!" The thing isn't huge by any means, but the fact that he's shoving it into her between tightly bound thighs - preventing her from opening up to it - makes it more than hard to take. "Sir, please...please let me spread them. Please? I'll open for you, please Sir. Just...ahhh!"
Yes, he's chosen the little plug for just that reason--once he does get it past the opening of her vagina, it slips easily inside her, leaving only the cord to the little control box in his hand trailing out of her. She should be quite comfortable--until he turns it on vibrate, of course. Which he does, as he rolls off her to watch her reaction. She's almost where he wants her.
As uncomfortable as having Misha laying fully on top of her was, the moment he moves, Alyssa finds herself trying to reach for the man as he moves away, cursing the wrap once again. Then she feels it - something small trailing out of her body - but the confusion only lasts a moment before the thing inside her springs to life and every part of her body seems to react. "Ohhh! Sir, ohgod, ohhhgod!" She can't move, can't open herself to the wicked little toy and the sensations are just the wrong side of strong to allow her to easily climax.
There. That's the response he wanted to see. Misha can feel himself rapidly growing warm with desire, hard and aching just watching her. He checks his watch. Only fifteen minutes. And yet, he's sure it's probably felt much longer to her. Long enough for their first time doing mummification. He reaches to the table for the surgical scissors, leaving the vibrator on a low buzz.
Alyssa swears that she can feel the slow, pounding beat of the music in her clit and mixing with the hum of the vibrating toy inside her to drive her forward, closer - but never close enough - and the soft moans mingle with pleas as she begs Misha for his touch, his mouth, anything that he would give her. "Nnnaaah..." The soft, keening cry fills the room as her body fights to reach climax.
Misha begins at the toes, cutting open just enough of a hole where he can get in the flat side of the surgical scissors, where it will slide along her body as he begins to cut her free, as if removing a cast from her, cutting a straight line up her legs to the hole over her pussy and peeling back the plastic, letting air hit the warm skin, sweaty from the entrapment. He reaches up to remove her earphones but not the blindfold. "Spread your legs for me now."
Alyssa begins a soft cadence of 'thank you's' to Misha, the cool air feeling amazing on her sweaty, heated flesh. She wants free, wants to move and be able to touch - but he stops and the earphones are removed. Why'd he stop? "Sir? Yes Sir, but..." Alyssa's head turns toward him and her legs snap open in hopes he'll continue the trek of the scissors and remove the damn buzzing little toy that's had her on edge for what's seemed like hours. "My arms, Sir? Please?"
Misha does remove the plug and turns it off. But he doesn't release the rest of her. "It's not time to free your arms yet, girl. I think I like you just like this." He slowly removes the blindfold, so that she can see herself, open and wanton and begging for him, arms trapped by her sides, her breasts jutting lewdly out out the little holes he's cut in the plastic wrap. He allows her to spread her legs wide, as he slides a condom onto himself and presses against her body, taking one nipple between his teeth and sucking hard on it.
As the vibrator slips free, Alyssa whimpers out when the toy slides across her already very engorged and tender clit, "But...but Sir, pl..." she pauses, blinking against the light as the blindfold is removed, "thank you, Sir. Thank you." She can see him - can see his face and hear his words - and that makes things easier, calmer but does nothing to the halt need to touch him. "Mmmyesss, please Sir!" Alyssa can feel him - just there - almost inside her and she moves, hips pressing toward him as she does her best to coax him inside. That thought leaves, however, as teeth find the tender and punctured flesh of her nipple. "Unhaagod! It hurts! Please Sir, please?" Legs wrap around his hips in an attempt to pull him into her.
He wonders if she'll get the point eventually that he's going to do as he wants with her, despite her begging or pleading not to. Of course, to hear her beg and plead is all just part of the fun, for both of them. He grins wolfishly at her, debating tormenting her more by waiting . . . but no. Not when it means denying himself the pleasure of being inside her right now. "Yes," he simply says, and plunges into her, holding her shoulders down as he begins to fuck her.
The grin that crosses Misha's face causes Alyssa's breathing to halt for a moment as she realizes whatever he has planned may not be so much fun for her - and that in itself nearly has her coming. She's waited for what seems like forever for someone that can, and will, give her just as much pain as pleasure, and a part of her holds the fear that he'll vanish when she closes her eyes. The pain that comes, however, forces her eyes closed as she feels him thrust into her in one hard push. "SIR! Ahhhgod! Oww!" Struggling against his hands, Alyssa cries out, arching up under him.
He waits for a second or two for her body to accommodate him, to stretch and relax just a little before he's pulling half out and thrusting deep in again. And then that's all the reprieve he gives her. "Going to pound you into the mattress," Misha tells Alyssa as he begins to fuck her in earnest, continuing to hold her down. "And there's nothing you can do to stop me." Knowing her, she'll like those few extra words. He's certainly having fun.
It's the fact that Misha takes her with such a bruising force that has Alyssa struggling against the wrap with everything she has, panting as her body opens to his cock. She's never been able to let go, react to a hard fuck and revel in being taken - Duke being worried about hurting her - until now. Knowing there's no way she's getting away with him holding her and her body still wrapped, she arches against him, wild dark eyes looking up into his. "Let me go! Please? Nnaahhgod, Sir!" Between the toy's torment from before, the sheer force the man that will own her takes her with and the fact she truly can't stop him, Alyssa borders on climax already.
"No," Misha rasps in a low voice, between thrusts. He bites at the other breast, heedless of her cries, her anguish only making him that much more frenzied, more driven. He can feel her starting to clench around him already. "Going to come, little slut?" He kisses her brutally, biting at her lower lip.
"Please! Aahh!" Alyssa knows that, for the first time in a very long time, she'll feel the force he's using against her later and she tries to pull her legs in - grip his hips with her thighs to slow his movements - knowing that'll only push him harder. The bite to her other breast pushes her to a climax she wants to hold at bay, the words from him push her over and she meets the kiss with heated passion. "Ohhgod! Oh!" The words come through panted breaths as muscles clamp tight around his cock.
Misha lets the animal side of him take over, fucking her roughly, growling and panting as he feels her start to come, exulting in her release, in the apparent cruelty of the situation and her predicament. That thought is enough to take him over the top as well and he comes, groaning loudly even as he's pounding into her, filling the condom.
Her cries of pain and pleasure as she feels him thrust hard into her mix with the sounds of conquest that come from him as he comes. As their sounds echo back to her ears, there's no doubt in her mind she'll carry bruises from him in more than one place - shoulders, hips, inner thighs - and she couldn't be more pleased at the thought. For the first time, she has a man that will take her with the force she needs.
For a moment afterward he rests above her, held up by his elbows, still inside where he can feel the pulses of both of their afterglow. Gently he pulls out and rolls to one side, sliding the condom off to toss in the garbage. Taking the surgical scissors, he deftly cuts her out of the rest of her bondage, and pulls a blanket over her--he knows that especially after the sex and the warmth of the wrap, she's going to feel a chill or two. "Fantastic."
Alyssa watches him in silence, whimpering softly as he slips from her body and slides off her. She doesn't speak - isn't sure she could if she tried - but her eyes never leave his face until she feels the scissors cutting her free. Glancing down, she watches the plastic fall away and, though she doesn't wiggle, she can't wait to be free. "Thank you," she murmurs as he pulls the blanket over her, but it's not the blanket she needs and the moment she can, Alyssa's on her side, curling into Misha's body, her own shivering against all the sensations that were, and are still, there.
Misha pulls her in tight, holding her, knowing that this had to have been a very intense experience, and proud of her for taking it for him. "You're welcome," he says softly, He wants to tell her she's amazing. But the time might not be right. Perhaps later, after they've rested, when they're coherent. He's pretty wiped out as well.
Pressing little light kisses against his chest, Alyssa nuzzles against him. She'd love to say more than the weak little thank you that left her lips, but at the moment she's not really sure she could come up with anything that isn't already being said in the happy little smile on her face. She thinks, for just a fleeting moment, to ask for permission for sleep but then the idea is gone and his scent takes its place in her thoughts.
Misha has just enough presence of mind to reach down, unfastening Alyssa's high heels--because those just can't be comfortable to sleep in. He eases them off and lets them drop to the floor, before wrapping his arms around her and resting her head on his chest. He could care less about permission at the moment, as he himself drops off to sleep.