|Alyssa Milano and Misha Collins - A Stitch In Mine||[Jul. 15th, 2010|10:29 pm]|
[Comments welcomed and loved]
Warnings: Needle play, blood play, corseting
[Backdated to just after Christmas 2009]
So far the day has gone along as normal - Alyssa has taken care of the daily chores and shopping, straightened around the place and started supper for the evening. The only thing that isn't really holding up for the norm is the fact that Misha seems to have something up his sleeve and refuses to let her see or tell her what's going to happen.
"Master, you know if it's something I need to keep secret, it's not like I'm going to babble to someone." She waits for an answer then sighs, the searching questions haven't got her anywhere so far, but it never hurts to keep trying.
Misha chuckles--as if he didn't trust her to keep secrets. But this particular thing happens to be his secret for her, and not anything else. "After dinner, minx. You'll find out what I'm up to then." They're having a wonderful break from filming during the holidays, and he's enjoying the time immensely, getting to spend it with her and with Milo, and today he'll make her look festive, in a totally, completely sadistic way.
Lips pushing to the side, Alyssa gives him a crooked little smile as something tells her that whatever it is he's planning will be, at the very least, interesting for her and entertaining for him. "After dinner? I have to wait until after dinner? That's just not fair," she says with a cheeky grin, coming to press up against him. "I wish your break lasted longer, Master," Alyssa murmurs, inhaling his scent. "I love where I live, but I hate being away from you...hate not having what you do to me, feeling me in your arms."
Misha pulls her in for a kiss, his hand sliding up her back to feel the skin there, unmarked, unblemished. For now. He has to break off the kiss then, or be tempted to take things right to the bedroom. That will be later. "I know. It's only a few more months of shooting, and then this series will be over. But I've been thinking about it. I do want you to stay there with me, if you can arrange things to stay for a couple months."
She's not sure if it's the all-consuming kiss or the feel of his hands on her flesh that brings the shiver and soft peppering of goosebumps but, in reality, it's not like it matters. Alyssa whines in protest as the kiss ends but as Misha speaks her cheeky little pout turns to a full-blown smile and she throws her arms around him in a tight hug. "Stay with you there? Really? I'd love to!" Alyssa begins rambling a mile a minute. "I can let the building owner know I'll be away and the charities I work with...well, I can find someone to help out. They really like the money more than what I do anyway," she says with a laugh, pressing a kiss to Misha's lips.
"Perfect," Misha tells her, and lets her get back to working on dinner. "I'm feeding you tonight," he announces--because sometimes he allows her to feed herself. But not on nights like this one. In fact . . . "I'll be right back," he tells her, and heads to his room to pull out something new he's gotten for her--a long rigid posture collar. He wants her to really feel her position tonight--plus it'll look great with what he has in mind. He brings it back and holds it up for her. "You're going to wear this tonight. Starting now." He gestures for her to come over so he can put it on.
When Misha mentions feeding her, Alyssa isn't too surprised since he seems to take great pleasure in keeping her right where he knows she loves to be - at his feet so, when he leaves the room, Alyssa simply returns to her meal preparations. "Will I be at your feet, Master or will I be at the table with you?" She doesn't hear an answer, what she does hear is Misha returning to come up behind her and when she turns her eyes go wide. It's not the normal collar, the thing is tall and horribly stiff looking and Alyssa can't imagine the stretch it will put on her neck. "But Master, I...how? The thing looks huge. And hard." She makes her way toward him, eyes on the collar as she tugs her hair into a loose ponytail.
"You'll just have to keep your head up and stretch out your neck then," Misha says with a wicked smile, removing her usual collar in order to put her into the posture collar, latching it up the back nice and tight. She'll feel every breath she takes in that. Every swallow. "I should put you in some nice shoes too. What are your highest, most uncomfortable pair?" He chuckles. "You'll be kneeling for dinner anyways."
The moment the collar slides around her throat, Alyssa's fighting the urge, the absolute need, to claw at the thick leather that seems to press in on her with every breath, every movement and swallow. Hands clenching tight into fists to keep her hands to her side, her chin is forced upward, the muscles in her neck tight as she feels the collar grow tighter. "Master, please, it's too tall. Too...too tight." Trying to turn her head to look at him, Alyssa quickly realizes that isn't possible and, turning to face him, lowers her eyes. "The tallest are the ones that padlock on, I think. There are some boots, but they're the same height."
Misha nods. "Are you almost finished preparing dinner?" He knows it'll be almost impossible for her to do normal chores once she has the shoes on. "If you need help, I'll help you." Even with the collar, it's going to be difficult for her. She won't be able to look down and see what's cooking on the stove, for example.
Finally giving in, Alyssa's fingers move to the collar as she tries to coax the thing into giving, even an inch, to allow some sort of movement. She tries to turn her head once again then growls as the collar halts her. "It's roast with vegetables and wild mushrooms, it's done except for making the gravy." She's not quite sure what Misha has in his mind, but if he's offering to help with meal preparations it must be intense. "If you can you help make the gravy, Master, that would be great."
Misha is amused by her little attempts to thwart the wicked collar. "I would be happy to help out. Just tell me what to do." His usual talents in the kitchen include Kraft Macaroni and Cheese and grilling steaks on the barbecue.
"Thank you, Master." Alyssa begins to give directions for the finishing touch on the meal, helping where she can and grumbling at the collar every time it stops her from doing something. Her fingers come up again to pull at the heavy collar that seems hell bent on not only preventing her from looking down but also from turning her head by more than the slightest little movement. "This thing's horrible uncomfortable, Master," she says as she tries in vain to get her chin to tip downward.
Misha can't help it; he giggles. "Your pain gives me sustenance, slave," he tells her, as he puts together a large plate for the two of them and leads them into the dining room, where he has set up a cushion for her to kneel at his feet. "Hmm," he says, looking at her, wanting her even more uncomfortable, even more restricted in movement. "I think you need to hold your hands behind your head while you kneel in formal position. Keep them up there, or I'll use a thin reed cane on them." He goes to get one from his toy bag.
Alyssa's heart begins to race, pulse pounding as Misha's words settle into her and she knows that whatever he has planned for the rest of the night her cries will most likely play a large part of it. "Yes Master," she murmurs, eyes on Misha as he fills the plate then leads her into the dining area. Catching sight of the pillow, she moves to take her place then pauses, eyes widening at the order. "Keep my hands behind my head, Master?" Surely she'd misunderstood. "Master, there's no way I can keep them up there the entire meal, I..." A soft gasp leaves her as she sees the cane upon his return. "Master, please no." Sinking to her knees on the pillow, Alyssa takes position - ass pushed outward, chest up and legs spread wide.
"Oh please, yes," Misha says with a grin, taking his seat at the table. He cuts several bite-sized pieces of roast and begins feeding the two of them, alternating taking bites and offering Alyssa bites. After a few of those, he offers her some water to drink. Eventually, he knows her arms will start to come down. Then the fun begins.
It's not a matter of her keeping her arms there, she can do this - or so she thinks - as she laces her fingers behind her head, the collar making itself known as she's forced to keep her chin upward. After the first few bites, however, Alyssa's fingers begin to tingle; after the first drink of water her whole hand is aching, and she knows she's losing the battle. "Master, please? Lemme take them down, they're...and the collar..." Fingers completely asleep, her eyes go wide as they slip from their grip. "I'm sorry, Master!"
"I'm not," Misha quips, and then he's grabbing for the cane, and taking a quick and brutal strike at the inside of Alyssa's forearm, hitting her and leaving a red welt. He watches her reaction, smirking and feeling a pleasant warmth in his groin. "This, my dear, is known as Predicament Bondage--and the best part about it is that the bondage is purely through my will and your holding yourself in position."
"Aaahee! Master! Ahgod!" Alyssa covers the mark, pulling her arm toward her body, as she tries to look downward, immediately remembering the collar that prevents her chin from tipping. Wide dark eyes fill with tears as the horrible after-pain sets in and she lifts her arm, bringing it to a level she can see. The angry, huge red welt shines bright against the soft underside of her forearm. "Master, please. That'll split the skin open!" It's only then that it hits her that she's broken position and immediately her knees spread wide once more before returning her hands to the back of her head, arms heavy, the first tear finding its way to her cheek.
"Oh hush, slave--I'm not hitting you hard enough to break skin." Misha smirks, taking a bite as he watches her struggle to re-find her position. "Unless you want me to?" He asks archly, taking a slow sip and waiting to see if she'll be able to hold herself together enough for her next bite of food.
"It still hurts," she mumbles. Alyssa's eyes widen and the words, snarky and rude, are right there on the tip of her tongue as she clamps her mouth shut, knowing better than to comment when Misha's in the wicked mood that he is. ""Whatever Master sees fit to do," she finally manages without too much of a tone. Opening her mouth for the bites of food proves to be as much trouble as chewing as she tips her head upward the tiniest bit, already feeling her fingers going numb and beginning to slip.
"That's right," Misha asserts, feeding her and taking a few more bites of his own, waiting for her to inevitably falter. It's cruel, yes. But he has a desire to test her tonight, possibly to even break her. He'll build her back up again, of course. He ignores her for a moment, eating his own dinner.
Not sure how anyone could really eat with one of these damn collars on, Alyssa bites down on her lip, eyes screwing shut as she feels her arms begin to slip, fingers numb to the point she can no longer feel them. Her Master's in a cruel and wicked mood, and for every part of her that hates it an equal part wants everything he will give her. "Nnngh!" The muffled cry comes as her hands slip once more, her arms feeling like concrete.
"Can't seem to hold your position today, hmm?" Misha asks blithely, knowing full well he's given her an impossible task. "Hands on the table, then," he tells her,and takes his cane again. Once her hands are in place, he gives her a sharp rap with the cane over the backs of her hands--classic Catholic School discipline. "Keep them there," he instructs, figuring he'll give her arms a little break.
Kneeling up to get her hands to the table, Alyssa's eyes narrowed at Misha's sarcasm. "My hands keep going to sleep, Master." Her eyes barely catch the movement of the cane before Misha's bringing it down on the backs of her hands. There's a blinding flash of pain that floods every molecule in her body and Alyssa's strangled scream fills the room as she yanks her hands back, holding them against her stomach. "Unnaaah! Oh god! God! Noo!" She can't look down, isn't sure she wants to see, but she bends forward, protectively shielding her hands.
Misha's eyes narrow with displeasure. "Keep them on the table, slave. Or I'll cane the bottoms of your feet instead." He waits for her to comply.
Alyssa attempts to shake her head as tears make their way down her cheeks to fall on the swell of her breasts. She can feel the throb of her hands all the way to her core, the ache pounding with every beat of her heart. "Ple...please don't, Master. Please? You'll break them Master." Hands trembling, she kneels up and braces herself, unsure if the wetness between her legs is come or something else.
He's hardly hitting them hard enough to break them, though he'll certainly leave welts, so Misha disregards that comment, nodding when she puts her hands back. "You obviously never went to Catholic school," is all he says, and then he takes a few bites, waiting for her to regain composure so he can go back to feeding her.
Shaking her head, Alyssa fights the urge to pull her hands away, clutch them to her body, as they throb against the table's edge, huge tears still streaming down her cheeks. "Please don't hit them again, Master. I'll be good. I will be." She wants to reach down between her legs, duck her head, to judge the wetness for herself, knowing the anger that will come from Misha if she gets something on the pillow under her.
"I trust you will be," Misha says, and he means that. He offers her some more food, thinking that they may have to finish dinner after their scene. He's ready to move to things beyond dinner.
Alyssa takes the offered food, but with the collar on, it's actually more trouble than it's worth, chewing is nearly impossible and swallowed isn't much better. "No more, Master. Too hard to chew." Looking at the glass, she lowers her eyes. "May I have a drink, please?"
"Yes," Misha says simply, offering her some. He leaves the food there for later. "To the bedroom, then, slave." He offers her a hand up, knowing she's going to need it in order to get to her feet, and knowing that crawling in that posture collar is nearly impossible.
Taking a small sip of water, Alyssa wants more, but not knowing what awaits prevents her from wanting a full bladder. She can already feel her heart pounding in her chest as dark eyes dart upward. "Yes Master, thank you." Taking his hand, Alyssa slowly pushes up, the act a sight more difficult than it was to lower. "Does the collar come off now, Master?"
Misha grins evilly. "No." He says nothing further, but leads her over to the bed. "Kneel on the bed with your back towards me. Keep your hands on your knees, and don't move. I don't care how much it hurts." That's the only warning she'll get. He puts a towel down to catch any blood that might drip, and then goes to get his needle set, alcohol wipes, and some black silk ribbon.
The bed's soft and getting up onto it is as much of a chore as getting her balance and keeping it, the damn collar keeping her from lowering her chin even the slightest. Her mind's on the towel under her and Misha's words, the two in tandem bringing a shiver of fear and excitement that peppers her flesh with goosebumps. "Don't move? Yes Master." Her words sound soft, muffled, as the collar prevents her jaw from fully working, but her eyes stay on Misha nonetheless as she places her hands in her lap.
Beautiful, how she submits for him like this. Misha smiles as he chooses one of his largest gauge of needles, knowing he'll need the large holes in order to accomplish what he wants tonight--a corset piercing. And yes, he could have gone the extra length to get actual body piercing rings and all that, but this isn't meant to be a long term thing. Just a picture of pain and beauty for tonight. He rubs the alcohol wipe over her entire back, and puts on latex gloves--for her safety, since these will be more extensive piercings. "Breathe," he tells her, as he marks off where the piercings will go with a charcoal pencil, just before pushing a needle through the first mark.
Alyssa catches sight of things in his hands and her brow creases but, as he moves behind her and the coldness of the alcohol prep pad hits her flesh she shivers, wants desperately to turn and look but knows that even if she tries the collar will prevent any movement. Misha doesn't talk, she knows he's lost in whatever it is that he's preparing to do to her and that knowledge alone lets Alyssa know that this will be bad. Feeling him touch her back with something in a strange pattern, she tenses up even as he tells her to breathe. "Master, I don't understand, what're you...Unnaaaa!" The scream sounds off, her mouth unable to open wide, but the tears come immediately as the first needle finds it's spot. "Master! Please, ahhgod! It hurts! No more! Pleeeease," she sobs.
"Aww, and stop the fun just as I'm getting started? I don't think so, slave," Misha purrs into her ear, as he secures the hypodermic needle into the flesh and wraps the ribbon so that he can tie it off there, effectively starting his corset. "I'm going to make you beautiful for me tonight. And it's going to hurt. A lot." He reaches for the next needle, and carefully pushes it through the mark on the other side where the other ribbon will start.
She'd known the moment the plea for him to stop had left her mouth that he wouldn't, her Master's in a particularly evil mood tonight and it seems is planning on making her his artistic canvas. "I don't wanna be! Please, I don't wanna be beautiful tonight!" The tug of something around the needle feels odd, heavy, and Alyssa tries to shake her head, the collar effectively stopping any and all movement in her neck. "Unaaaaaah! Master please!" Nostrils flair as Alyssa's breath comes hard and heavy and she knows now that part of the moisture may be come between her legs but the rest is surely urine.
Misha pauses a moment after that needle and suddenly grabs her hair, yanking her back and knowing that must be uncomfortable if not painful with the posture collar on. "Did I ask you what you wanted, slave? What are you here for? What is your purpose?" He waits for her answer, holding her still by her hair.
"Nguh!" Breath leaving her as Misha pulls her back, Alyssa tries to scream but it comes out as a strangled grunt and more piss trickles from her body. The collar digs into her throat, the needles in her back pull at her flesh and she knows it's only begun. Her Master means to make her hurt tonight and Alyssa knows he has enough ways of doing so to make it happen. "To please you, Master. Take what you give. Please..."
"That's right," Misha says, releasing her with a nod. "And if you just peed on the bed, you're either cleaning it up tonight or you get to sleep here and I'll sleep in your bed." He's not sure, but that latter might be a reward for Alyssa. Letting her settle herself again, he reaches for another needle.
"Master, 'm sorry. Please, please may I use the bathroom? I won't do anything else, just pee. Please?" Her words still sound off; her cries and the collar make speaking properly difficult but, Alyssa knows that a full bladder, pain and screams are not going to work together with her trying to hold it. The next needle touches her flesh and every muscle in Alyssa's petite frame tenses as she tries to keep her body from reacting. "Unnh!"
Once that needle is in, Misha nods, carefully putting things out of the way for Alyssa. "Yes. Go quickly," he tells her. Some things you just have to take care of, and that's just reality.
If moving onto the bed was hard, moving from the bed is near impossible with the collar on and the needles pulling at her back with every move. "They hurt," she murmurs with a quick look to Misha before heading for the bathroom.
Returning, Alyssa moves toward the bed. "Thank you Master. Better now." She holds her hand out for Misha to help her back onto the bed. "One's bleeding I think."
"Good," is Misha's only reply to that. He wants blood. He likes it. Once she's settled again, he reaches for the next needle. "How are you feeling?" The rush should be hitting her by now, especially with the size of needles and the slight pull she'll be feeling once he pulls tight the ribbons.
"Yes Master." She knows that regardless of the amount of blood, Misha isn't going to stop. Settling back on the towel, Alyssa lets her arms hang to her sides knowing that as the needles find her flesh again they won't stay there. "Throbbing, Master," she replies, voice already raspy from her earlier cries. "How many more, Master?" The needle finds purchase. "Unnaaah god!"
Misha snorts under his breath, smiling as he slides needle through flesh. "I don't think you want to know, girl." There's five in so far, and probably about another six to go in at least. He'll stop when it looks right to him. "Think about this, slave. How hard I am right now, doing this to you." He presses the hard ridge of his erection against her ass to demonstrate.
"It hurts. Please, Master. Please..." Alyssa can feel the tiny trickles of blood as they tickle at the throbbing flesh around the needles but she doesn't move, knows that to do so would make the pain worse and Misha angry. Misha angry with access to needles is not something she wants. "Mmmh!" Alyssa whimpers, the sound catching behind the collar in her throat as Misha grinds against her. "Want to please you, Master. I do."
"I know you do, Misha says softly as he works, pausing for a second to collect a drop of blood from her back to transfer to his mouth. He groans at the taste. "God, I love blood." Five more to go.
There are no more screams of pain, the collar prevents most of them anyway, but Alyssa can't stop the tears and hiccups of breath as her Master turns her back into a living piece of art. "Master," her voice catches as she feels him rub the trickle of blood, "is your slave going to have scars when this is done?"
"I don't think so," Misha answers, because when breaking the skin there is never a perfect guarantee that there will not be scarring. "Why, do you want scars?" he asks her next, because if she does he can certainly arrange that, and if she doesn't, well then they may have to rethink the whole relationship because he needs the bloodplay, and that means breaking skin. Three more needles to go.
"Unh! Master!" There's a constant trail of tears down her cheeks that drop one by one to her chest but Alyssa doesn't move, she knows this is what her Master wants and she'll do her best to give it to him. "If Master would give his girl scars, she'd be proud to wear them. She doesn't promise she won't fight against them though." Alyssa knows, if anything, Misha loves the fight in her. He loves the fact he can be rough and she loves it all. "My back hurts so bad, Master. It's throbbing."
"Mmmm, stop teasing me. I can't fuck you until I take a good picture of you like this," Misha says with a grin, sliding in the last needle then trailing his finger through one of the little rivulets of blood. "I'll have to arrange something then as far as scars, if you don't get any from our normal play. Maybe mark you with an 'M' or something." He sets to weaving the black silk ribbon through the needles, making the corset and drawing the needles closer together on her back, which of course will be a nice added pain for her.
"You're...Master's gonna fuck me with the needles in?" There's a hint of shock and disbelief mixed with a heaping amount of fear in her words and she groans, crying out at the next push of the needle through her flesh. "Ohhhh, oh please..." Whatever Misha's doing, it feels as though he's rubbing sand paper across her heated skin and then suddenly a scream is rent from her throat as it seems he's trying to pull her shoulders together via her skin. "Master! Please...please no. It hurts, please. Too tight, oh god, too tight." She can feel the holes pull, the blood trickle down her back. "Enough, please?"
"I say when it's enough," Misha reminds her, but it is enough for his satisfaction at the moment, so he leaves it at that point of tightness and ties the bow, knowing that this will restrict Alyssa's movement just as much as the posture collar which has to be killing her by this point. "Now you'll walk into the living room for me--don't worry, I'll lead you so that you won't trip on anything. I want to take some pictures of you. For me to be able to beat off to when I'm away from you." Misha grins, cleaning up the stuff off the bed and getting up so that he can offer Alyssa a hand.
With the bow tied, Alyssa's shoulders are forced backward, body arching just to try to keep the pressure off the holes and keep them from feeling as if they're going to rip through. The tears come in torrents, drop down to soak her chest then trickle downward. "Please, Master, please don't wanna move. Your slave doesn't want to move." There's no way to move without every needle being pulled at and Alyssa knows this. The collar seems like it's grown tighter as she struggles to only take shallow breaths, deep ones, she's found out, pull at the needles as well as tighten her throat down. Lifting her arm to give Misha her hand, Alyssa screams again as the needles are pulled at. "They're ripping, Master! Oh god, please..."
Misha rolls his eyes. "They're not ripping--your skin isn't paper. Now get up, or Master will be displeased." They're really not that tight either--just enough to pull the skin tight and make the ribbon nice and taut. He heads over to get his camera and a crop, figuring if she doesn't obey this time he'll add some welts to her flesh for the picture.
Alyssa' eyes narrow slightly as she senses the sarcasm in Misha's voice, sees the roll of his eyes. "This is the first time I've been sewn, Master. Your slave isn't used to this feeling between the collar and needles." And the fact that her chin barely moves when she speaks makes her sound like she's mumbling and she hates it. Sliding backward off the bed, she grunts out a cry of pain, feeling the needles shift.
"Fair enough," Misha says in a softer voice, sensing that he's pushing her too far at this point. He gets out of her way, offering her a hand where needed so that she doesn't lose balance and fall--and actually really hurt herself. "You look beautiful." He presses her hand to his crotch so that she can feel how hard he is. "I like it."
The fact that Misha's excitement only grows with her pain is nothing new but as her hand presses to his groin, she looks up to him and her eyes soften. "Your slave loves giving you pleasure, Master," Alyssa replies, voice quieting. The intense pain in her back is slowly giving way to a pounding throb that beats in time with her heart and she can feel her world clouding over. "Thank you for making me beautiful." Turning, Alyssa slowly makes it to the living room and, with Misha's help, kneels down, knees spread, body straight.
Misha groans as she kneels for him, feeling a hot pulse in his groin. He knows he's going to be pushing his control here, so he heads quickly over to get his camera, and begins snapping pictures of her there on the floor, blood dripping from the piercings on her back and the way the corset looks so stark against her pale skin, the way the posture collar holds her so rigidly. After shooting several pictures, an idea comes to him. He sets the camera carefully on the table so it will continue to take timed shots, and walks over to stand in front of her. "I'm going to take off your collar. I want you to suck me off." That will at least take off the edge of his lust so that he can make it through the scene.
It's not unusual for Alyssa to have pictures snapped of her, however, it is unusual for her to be dripping blood and naked while they're being done. The collar holds her chin upward, neck arched, but she keeps her eyes lowered save for the few clicks of the camera when she looks into the lens, letting her pain and pleasure come through wide, doe-like eyes. Alyssa knows the camera is pointed toward her but her attention turns back to Misha. "Yes Master, thank you for taking it off first." She kneels up for Misha to remove the collar.
He slips it off of her, massaging the skin of her throat a little before letting the collar drop to the ground. "And don't worry--I'll definitely be fucking you later, once we take off the corset. In fact . . ." he breaks off, getting another idea, and smiles. "On second thought I'll leave that part a secret for now. Continue, slave." He hears the camera click as it takes a picture.
Working her neck as Misha removes the collar, Alyssa whines softly as he works the skin, her muscles stiff and sore. Dark eyes dart to the side as she hears the camera click and she reaches up. The movement pulls against the needles and Alyssa groans out. "It hurts, Master. Hurt so bad when I move." Dropping her hands back to her side, she kneels up and takes Misha's cock into her mouth with a long, drawn-out moan.
Her moan may be long and drawn out, but Misha's moan is sharp and guttural; it feels like he's been hard for hours. "That's it," he encourages, hearing the camera taking another picture and knowing that he'll be using this for jerk off material for months, possibly while away on filming. He threads his fingers through her hair, thrusting gently into the heat of her mouth, mindful that her throat has already taken something of a punishment today.
With the collar off, Alyssa can move and respond and act and as Misha's hands find her hair, she hums softly around his cock. Tipping her head forward, Alyssa sinks down and slowly takes the thickness into her throat, gently coaxing it further as she swallows around it. She moves there, just at the point of her breath leaving with her movements and her eyes water, body throbbing, as she works against her Master's cock. Beginning to move with more ease as she ignores the small clicks of the camera and the throb of her back, Alyssa's hand drifts down between her legs.
Despite the pleasure of her mouth, Misha sees what her hand is doing. As her jaw relaxes for a moment, he pulls away, frowning at her. "I did not give you permission to touch yourself." And while that might be hot, she has to understand that if she wants it, she asks for it. She just doesn't do it on her own.
"Sorry Master. Your slave's so wet," she murmurs, voice rough as she licks her lips, cleaning them of his wetness. "Does my back look as wicked as it feels? I can feel it throbbing." Moving her hands to her lap once more, Alyssa looks up as she slowly opens her mouth. "Please, Master?"
"No," Misha repeats, moving forward again so that the head of his cock grazes her lips. "You should have asked me before you started. So this time . . . the answer will be no." She needs to learn that, and yes, this is punishment for that. He smirks, looking down her back. "And yes, your back looks wicked. And you're not the only one throbbing."
"Yes Master, understood." She can still feel the wetness between her legs, the way her body's responding to the pain and the ache in her body, the way Misha tastes on her lips and tongue. "I'll keep my hands back, promise." She grins up to him at the throbbing comment then lets her eyes drift back to his cock. "No Master, it looks like I'm not."
"Then keep going," Misha says in a soft voice, placing his hand on the back of her neck and guiding her back to his cock. Of course just knowing that she's wet for him, that she's enjoying this too, heightens his enjoyment that much more.
A soft pink tongue slides out and Alyssa flicks it back and forth across the underside of Misha's cock as she carefully takes his down into her throat, holds him there then begins moving. Her motions speed up as the pain in her back sends her deeper into a place that the pain transforms to pleasure and even as tears travel down her cheeks her pussy grows more wet.
"That's it," Misha says in a soft breath, allowing all his pent up lust to come to the surface, feeling it pulse in his dick. "Get me off, then I'll be happy to get you off," Misha says, petting her hair. "And then I'll take the damned needles out."
The idea that Misha put taking the needles after the promise of getting her off swirls around in her head, settles there as she wonders just how her Master plans on getting her to climax. Alyssa's movements grow more needy, desperate, as she works her tongue, teeth and lips in unison to bring off the man who owns her, every movement tugging at the needles, drawing more trickles of blood to the surface.
Misha's too close, so it doesn't take much. Suddenly it's there, and his body gives a jerk, a hiss escaping his lips as he's suddenly coming, holding Alyssa's head there so she has no choice but to swallow as he pumps come into her mouth.
The grip to her head holds her steady and with tongue pressed to the underside of Misha's cock, Alyssa begins to swallow as her eyes tear up. Misha's come seems to be unending but Alyssa takes it down almost greedily, not even attempting to pull back.
For a moment the room sways a bit, and Misha has to almost hold onto Alyssa to keep his balance through the powerful orgasm. Then he pushes her away (but with a fond pat to her cheek), nodding gruffly. "You may now start to touch yourself, and yes, you may come. I'm going to start pulling the needles out of you." By the time he's done, he expects she'll have come at least once, and he'll be ready for Round Two.
And of course the camera will keep capturing things.
Trying to push the idea of the needles leaving her flesh out of her head, Alyssa looks up to Misha as she moves back slightly. "Thank you, Master. Thank you." Her hand immediately drifts downward, moving between her legs where slender fingers find her clit and a long, soft whine of pleasure leaves parted lips. "Ohhh, oh god, thank you, Master..."
Listening to sounds like that, Misha knows it's not going to take long at all before he's recovered and caught up to her again in the readiness department. "That's it, girl. Let me hear you," he encourages her, finally giving in to some of his other desires as he pulls out a needle and leans over to lick up the blood trail. His dick gives a hard pulse. Yes, he'll definitely be ready to fuck her soon.
"AGH!" Alyssa's free hand clenches tight while the hand at her pussy shoves inward, three fingers plunging in deep, opening her wide as the needle's pulled from her flesh. "It hurts! Master, please...it hurts! Oh, ohh oh god, yess!" One hand slams to the floor as she shudders, body trembling against her climax as she coats her fingers in come.
With a growl, Misha trails his mouth up to Alyssa's shoulder and bites down, his way of releasing the sudden surge of lust that hearing her orgasm brings. "You are so perfect," he murmurs in her ear, waiting until her climax has passed before slowly sliding out another needle.
Fingers soaked with her own come and panting, Alyssa whines softly, the sound more strangled groan than cry, as the next needle leaves her skin. Breath catching as the needle slides free, she takes a deep, ragged breath. "Master, what happens after they're out?" She looks up, the click of the camera catching her attention and she wonders what it sees.
"After they're out," Misha says, working on another and kissing at the back of Alyssa's throat, nibbling there, "Then I get to fuck you until you see stars."
The flesh of her throat still feels insanely tender from the collar before and the fact that the needles are shooting sparks of pain and pleasure up her spine brings a soft moan with every kiss and nibble. "Don't need the needles to have that happen," Alyssa purrs, the endorphins kicking in. "More...how many more?"
Misha takes a quick glance, not pausing in his removal. "About ten or so. Just keep playing with yourself, girl. By the time I'm done with this, I want you on the verge of coming again." He knows by then he'll be just as ready as well. He leans in to take another lick of a droplet of blood. God, yes.
Alyssa's fingers push in deeper and she nods. "Already there, Master," she whispers, voice unsteady and broken and she knows that she'll never last the rest of the needles before she's coming again. "Do I taste that sweet?" she teases, shivering at the warm heat of Misha's tongue. "Master's becoming addicted I think."
"Yes," Misha answers simply, licking a full trail up her back while avoiding the remaining needles. He plucks a few more out, then bites down on her neck. He can feel her trembling, and wonders how many times she will come before he's through with her.
"Ahhhh!" Pushing back against the bite, knowing she'll have his teeth marks in her flesh for days, Alyssa shoves into her pussy, pad of her palm flush against her clit and comes hard, panting as a light layer of sweat mixes with the blood drops on her back. "Master! Fuck, please! Don't wanna...wanna come again! It's hurting..."
Misha grins against her shoulder, as he continues to remove needles, carefully gathering them up to deposit in the safe container. "That's simple, then, girl. Stop touching yourself." Of course he knows it is anything but simple, especially for her.
Oh she wants to sass him, to give some sort of smartass remark, but there are still needles left to be taken out and the promise of Misha inside her and hindering either of those completions by letting her mouth get away with her isn't in the cards. "Easier said than done, Master...lot's easier to...to...oh fuck!" Her head drops back and she cries out as she comes again.
Oh he knows, with her libido how difficult it must be. But then if he were nice about it, he wouldn't be a sadist, now would he? So he continues to remove needles even through her climax, just being extra careful so that if she starts to shake and thrash he won't spear either of them. There's only a few left to go.
Finally balling her hands into fists and forcing them to her thighs, Alyssa takes a ragged breath as another needle leaves her skin. "Will they leave scars, Master?" Though her voice trembles she remains as still and steady as possible with her pussy dripping and tiny orgasm after orgasm rocking her. "Want them out of me and you in me, please Master..."
"Any time you break skin there is a chance of scarring. But no, I don't believe these will leave scars. I'll have to do something special to you if you want that," Misha says quietly, pulling the last one out and carefully disposing of it. He hurries to the bedroom just long enough to get a towel, which he lays on the floor to protect the carpet. Then he's pushing Alyssa down onto it, claiming her mouth in a fierce kiss. "Soon, yes . . ." he says, spreading her legs for him. "Very soon." He grins.
She shivers, not at the last needle leaving her skin but, at the idea of wearing scars on her skin, scars of Misha's making. Going quiet in her own thoughts, Alyssa watches as Misha leaves the room and returns with a towel. As her back hits the material, she gasps, arches up, a grunted cry escaping parted lips as her eyes roll back. Panting, she looks up to Misha as he spreads her open. "Soon?" Pushing up toward him, Alyssa whines softly. "Please, fuck me..."
There's not much Misha says to that. So instead, he does, thrusting hard into her, slipping easily inside thanks to the juices from her previous orgasms. He knows she's going to come again and so he takes advantage of that, gripping her hips and making short sharp thrusts, reveling in just the primal nature of it.
With every thrust of Misha's hips, Alyssa grunts out, nails dig into the carpet under her, as the dozens of wounds on her back grate along the towel; she'd always swore that it was one of the softer ones, now she knows better. Clenching down around his cock, she looks up with glazed eyes. "Gonna...oh god, gonna come again!"
"That's it, girl--come for me," Misha growls, not slowing down at all; in fact, thrusting even harder, leaning down to bite hard on Alyssa's beautiful throat, tasting her sweat and the coppery tang of her blood. She'll pull him right down with her orgasm, and there's nothing better than that.
With her back aching against the towel, Alyssa wraps her legs tight around Misha's hips as he slams into her body and as his mouth finds her throat, Alyssa screams out, climax claiming her painfully, her entire body trembling with the force of it. "Master! Ahhhgod! It hurts!" Nails claw at the floor as her pussy clenches down around her Master's cock.
It may hurt, but God, does it feel good as well. Misha groans loudly as he comes as well, filling her with his come, rutting against her until his passion is spent, and then clinging to her, breathing heavily. They won't be moving around much tomorrow, he decides, feeling the ache in his back from bending over to put in all those needles and the post-orgasmic languor creeping in.
Petite, slender legs slide from Misha's hips and Alyssa goes limp for a moment, the events taking of the day taking their toll on her energy level. She lost track ages ago on how many times she's climaxed, her back throbs, she can feel her own come mixing with Misha's as it runs from her body and if someone yelled 'fire' she'd just have to stay where she is and let it consume her. "I ache," she whispers against his shoulder.
Misha kisses the side of her neck, her face, and finally, her lips. "We're going to share a nice hot bath together, finish dinner properly--if we can stay awake--and then you can sleep in nice and late tomorrow and I'll pamper you. You were a very good girl." He kisses her again, pleased and proud of her for submitting to all his whims.
Wrapping her arms around him as much as possible, Alyssa nods at the idea of sleeping in more than the idea of food. "Shower and sleep sound good, Master. And thank you. I try to behave for you," she says with a lazy chuckle, "even if it doesn't always work." Pressing a kiss to sweaty, salty flesh, Alyssa sighs. "Don't wanna move, Master."
The floor is hardly a comfortable place for either of them, so Misha gathers himself to actually lift her and carry her to the bedroom, plopping her down on the bed and then resuming their former positions, now on the nice soft mattress. "There. Now you don't have to." And yes, sweaty or not, he could sleep perfectly content like this.
As Misha lifts her, Alyssa moans deeply as the movement stretches tender flesh. She doesn't say anything until he drops her to the mattress. "Thanks," she says with a sleepy chuckle, "but you could have been a bit easier on the drop down." She knows her back will need tending to and cleaned but, as she curls in against Misha, she can't think of anything except a few moments of sleep.