Not!Alyssa Milano

E-Mail to Eric Dane from Alyssa Milano

Tue, 01 Feb 2011 19:51:11 GMT

TO: EricDane@Establishment.com

FROM: AlyssaMilano@Establishment.com

Hey there stranger! How is life treating you, sweetie? I haven't seen you in forever it seems and was wondering if you might want to get together for coffee, yes just coffee. :)

I do have a proposition for you. How are you with animals?

I'll fill you in on the details when I see you. Take care, sweetie, and I'd better get a yes and a time soon.

-Alyssa ♥

Alyssa Milano and Misha Collins - A Stitch In Mine

Fri, 16 Jul 2010 04:02:35 GMT

[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.

Alyssa Milano, Misha Collins and Amanda Seyfried - Two on One

Fri, 28 May 2010 00:46:27 GMT

[Comments welcomed, screened and loved

[Backdated to August 15, 2009]

**********

The day's been more than just a little hot and after spending most of it running here and there, Alyssa showers, slips into a little black skirt, a black and white camisole and black strappy sandals, slips into her car and heads for the Establishment bar. There are little clubs closer, but she's definitely in the mood to people watch so, after dropping off the keys to the valet, she makes her way to place her order for a very tall, very cold Hurricane. Hips already swaying to the music, she tips the bartender then, taking a long drink, moves down and pushes herself up onto one of the stools. "Do they really have to make these things this high?" she mutters as she shifts in the seat.

Misha is supposed to meet Amanda for a drink at the bar this evening--he's read in her journal lately that she's been curious about switching at least in dominant status though not in a pain way, much as he recently had with Eric, and he thinks he may have a word or two to say on the subject. When he sees Alyssa there, however, he chuckles and waves at her, coming over to sit down. "Come to have a drink and feast on some eye candy?" She's not his 24/7 yet, he reminds himself, and she has the weekdays to do as she likes.

As she sees Misha, Alyssa's mind begins to run through the mental list she'd made herself for the day; nowhere in the list is the 'meet Misha' reminder. She smiles as he moves up alongside her and sits down, her eyes taking him in. "They make really good Hurricanes here and yeah," she says with a soft grin, "they do have interesting sights sometimes." Her head tilts a bit as she sips at the straw. "Come in for a drink, yourself or did I forget we were supposed to meet?"

Misha leans over to take a taste of Alyssa's drink and yeah, it tastes pretty good. "I'm supposed to be meeting Amanda for a chat." He chuckles. "She's a femdom and a sadist, but she and I have had some fun together before. And lately she's been exploring new things, so we thought we'd talk about it a bit."

Most of her friends have always called a Hurricane a girly drink, so seeing Misha take a drink of it strikes her as funny for some reason. "Amanda? I think I've seen her around before - pretty blonde." It suddenly hits Alyssa what Misha means; they're still new with each other and it could be uneasy if he's to be with Amanda. "If you want me to, I can leave. I don't want to intrude."

"Nah--hell I don't even know if anything's happening tonight," Misha assures her, ordering a Hurricane for himself. Girly drink it may be, but it did taste good. Since he's all bisexual and stuff now, he supposes he's entitled to have a girly drink once in a while. "Let's just see what happens." He can always arrange things with Amanda for a later time. Besides, he'll get a chance to show off his part time slave. "I'd like her to meet you."

Amanda is late - her photo-shoot took longer than expected and after refreshing herself at home and changing into a shorter, black dress... she's a bit pressed with time. She frowns as she sees Misha busy talking to someone else at the bar, wondering if she should interrupt. She decides that since they have a date, it's fair game and smiles widely as she approaches him. "Misha! Sorry I'm late."

"Hey, Amanda! Come on over--I have someone I'd like you to meet," Misha greets her, standing up until she takes a seat then leaning over to give her a hug. "How have you been?"

Amanda returns the hug and gives Misha a quick peck on the cheek. "Great. Busy with promoting my latest film, which is why I'm late. How've you been?" She recognizes Alyssa and dimly remembers that she said something about a contract with Misha on the boards. "And I suppose that someone is your girl?"

"Been good--enjoying some time off before I go back into the shooting schedule for the fall," Misha tells Amanda, smiling as he sits down again. "And yes, this would be my slave, Alyssa. Alyssa, this is Amanda." He takes a sip of his drink. "Can I get you something?"

There's a certain strangeness - a little humiliation and a lot of pride - that comes from the words from both the people sitting near her. She's not been described as belonging to someone before, but she likes the feeling it stirs in her belly. "It's nice to meet you Amanda," she says with a soft smile then, hesitantly, extends her hand, glancing to Misha to make certain she's done okay.

"Some orange juice would be nice," Amanda replies to Misha before she turns to Alyssa and takes her hand. "It's certainly nice to meet you. Misha's a good guy, so you can count yourself lucky."

"Thank you," she says with smile then glances toward Misha. "He's been wonderful so far, so yes, very lucky."

Misha smiles with pleasure. "You two are going to make my head swell." He orders orange juice for Amanda and takes a sip of his drink before setting it aside for the moment. "So what things have you been up to lately, Amanda? And don't leave out the naughty stuff, please." He grins.

"Mmh, I played with another dom - Shane West. Who offered to give me some experience in submitting. Later. And I got a couple of playdates at the club, but nothing really clicked." Amanda returns the grin. "And that's all the naughty detail you'll get."

"Shane--yeah. I briefly worked with him." Misha grins, blushing a little. "Also had some, err, fun with his boy Jon. Shane's a good guy." He nods about the rest of her answer, and feels it's only fair to divulge a few of his escapades. "Well other than meeting Alyssa here--and going into some really naughty stuff that included a cage and these high heel shoes she can be locked into . . ." He winks at her. " . . . I've also been developing that other side of me, dating a guy, playing with a few men here and there as well. I'm sorry to hear things didn't click. I'm sure you'll find someone here. Sometimes you just have to get around all our busy schedules." And he thinks it's interesting that she's exploring submitting. "You're still not a masochist, right?" He has to check.

"Oh, no. That's something I'll never be, no matter how much I like to experiment." Amanda wrinkles her nose. "Those sessions with my trainer with me on the receiving end of whatever I'm learning are more than enough." She gives Misha a grin. "Dating and playing with guys? Now that sounds like fun."

The blush to Alyssa's cheeks is immediate as she hears Misha explain to Amanda what some of his and her escapades have been and she shifts then, that same embarrassment pulling at her in ways that she really, truly sometimes wishes it wouldn't. The idea of those shoes and the cage waiting at home has her grip tightening on the glass until she has to force it from her hands for fear of breaking it.

And now it's Misha's turn to blush, a little. "Yeah. Actually, it is." If he talks more about it he'll only blush more, so he moves on. "I saw your journal entry about wanting to submit to someone without the pain. That's an interesting idea."

"I have no idea how I'll react to it, to be honest." Amanda admits. "But I'm hoping to try it with a couple of people. See what kind of things throw me off and what turns me on." Now it's her turn to blush a little. "I was thinking of maybe asking you to be the second one. Not tonight! Obviously. I know it's a hard thing to do and quite a bit to ask and I don't need an answer now."

Alyssa begins to fidget in her seat. Her and Misha aren't even full-time yet and she seems to be interfering with his plans but she can't help the little grin that comes as Misha blushes; he looks adorable with the color in his cheeks. "I don't want to interfere if you have plans Sir," she says softly then looks to Amanda, color heating her own cheeks. "Submitting to him is easy," she murmurs as the grin on her face widens then fades as she realizes the slip of calling him 'sir' in public.

"Oh, I bet it is. I've just never done it." Amanda gives Alyssa a smile. "And no, you're not interfering at all. We had no concrete plans, just meeting for a chat and see what happens. But I'm not ready to try that tonight, with anyone, so it's fine."

A shame, but Misha totally understands. "So let me ask you--what kinds of things have you been considering? Bondage? Verbal domination? Service? There's a lot of aspects to dominance and submission play outside the whole sado-masochism thing." And he's very curious to hear Amanda's thoughts on this, particularly since he knows she quite the sadist.

Amanda thinks about Misha's questions for a moment before she replies. "I was thinking to start with some light bondage. Maybe service when I get into it, but that would require taking me deeper. No verbal domination." She grins at Misha. "I would just be mouthy and talk back."

Oh, the thought of Amanda tied to a chair with a ball gag in her mouth sends hot shivers down Misha's spine. "I could see that being enjoyable. Very enjoyable." He laughs. "I played with Jess, if you know her. She's full of back talk. It can be a lot of fun." Of course in that case, the right amount of pain did wonders. Pleasure could work as well, though. He winks at Alyssa. "I seem to recall you mouth off now and again too."

Between all the talk of cuffs and bondage and service and pain, Alyssa's mind is only catching half of the conversation, the rest of it is aptly trying to keep her already wet body from climaxing right there in front of everyone. The wink from Misha shakes her from her thoughts and she grins. "Yeah, a bit lippy at times, and pleasure definitely works well," she says a bit shakily as she shifts. "Amanda, how long have you known Mish...uhm, my Sir?"

"Not that long, actually. We met here in the club, not too long ago. Had some fun." Amanda winks at Misha. "A lot of fun." She shakes her head at Misha. "And no, I can't say I know Jessica. She seems fun, though, from what I can tell on the forums."

"She's lots of fun," Misha agrees, and he's not oblivious to Alyssa's state. He never is. "But yes, light bondage is easily doable. Anything else?" Maybe he's negotiating a scene. Or maybe just helping her to realize what she wants. Either way, he'll have some nice imagery to think about later.

"Orgasm denial. I think it would be fun to play with that." Given how easy Amanda can get off in a scene, and how often she usually does get off, orgasm denial sounds definitely alluring. Just the thought of it, being teased until she's close to the edge, then every touch withdrawn, being kept there for hours... she squirms, can feel her own wetness between her legs.

Misha smirks over at Alyssa. "Oh gee. I know nothing about that, do I, girl." Considering the almost day long scene where he denied Alyssa the privilege of even touching herself.

Alyssa blinks then blushes brilliant red as she ducks her head. "Only a little Sir," she says with a sly grin, the day in the cage still very clear in her mind. "Sir has ingenious ways." Grinning, Alyssa glances to Amanda. "It's hard to come if you can't touch yourself."

"Oh, I know it is." Amanda replies. "Not so much from personal experience, but from looking at the faces of the boys and girls I played with that way." She winks at both Misha and Alyssa. "Anyway, yes... I think that's enough for the start, to figure out whether I like it."

"Sounds like a good start," Misha says, nodding, and he can't help but imagine what Amanda's face might look like, hanging on the edge of climax and not allowed to go over . . . "Now, are you just telling me to get ideas? Or something else? Have you thought about who you would trust to try these things with?" He knows for his own side that if he were ever to submit (not likely), trust would probably be a key issue.

"I was thinking about Shane - once we spent more time together - and you. Not that I really asked you yet." Amanda laughs. "So I guess I'm also telling you to get ideas."

Alyssa sits there, swinging her feet while perched on the too-tall stool then, taking a drink, motions to the bartender and leaning in, whispers. "Rum punch please, this 's sorta watered down now." Her eyes widen slightly, the corners of her lips quirking up as Amanda mentions getting ideas from Misha since the man seems to be loaded with them.

Misha nods; so she's still feeling the waters out, it looks like. "Well as far as ideas of who to play with, I'm not sure how much help I'll be--I'm still trying to meet people. Shane's a good guy, but I have no idea how he is, play-wise. And I haven't seen a lot of bondage in the bar--I think people mostly do that stuff upstairs." He doesn't want to push too hard, but he definitely likes the idea of getting to play with Amanda from the top side. "I would respect your wishes if you wanted to try it with me. I may be sadistic, but I can control that aspect--as you saw earlier." He grins.

"I trust that you can control your sadistic side... or I wouldn't even think about playing with you that way," Amanda replies, matching Misha's grin with her own.

Of course that only makes the grin even wider. "I was so hoping you'd say that. So, some light bondage, domination, teasing, orgasm control. And have you decided on your safeword?" Now it's gone from discussion about a topic to a full on negotiation. He glances at Alyssa to see how she's taking all this, if there are any issues he'll have to deal with on her end.

This totally isn't where Amanda thought the conversation would go - but she doesn't mind the pleasant surprise. At all. "Greece," she replies spontaneously. She hadn't thought about a safeword until now - never had to. With Josh it's all very matter of fact, and they had agreed on the traffic light system should she ever need him to stop. "And yes... exactly those things."

Grinning up to the bartender as the man brings her drink, Alyssa gives a soft 'thank you' as he returns the smile then takes a drink of the dark liquid. The moment she does, her eyes widen; the man must have put the entire bottle of rum in the drink. She's not exactly sure if she should jump in, or if she should excuse herself, as the chat turns to what sounds like plans, but sensing Misha's eyes on her, Alyssa glances at him with a light, hesitant smile as she takes a drink, shivering.

"Okay," Misha says, nodding. He rubs Alyssa's knee, to further include her in things--even if this is a negotiation, she's his slave. She's always a part of his life, and she shouldn't feel like an extra wheel. "We'll have to figure a date then." He licks his lips, considering. "Maybe then some other time, if you'd like, you and I could think of something to do to someone else, co-topping or something. Would you ever want to play with my slave here?" He can throw it out anyways, see what the girls think.

At the touch to her knee, Alyssa's smile widens and she leans in to press a light kiss to Misha's cheek. "Sir, if you want to be alone, I don't..." She stops and stares at him, dark eyes widening as she glances from Misha to Amanda and back again. "The two of you going at me?" There's a definite air of shock to her tone but a look of wild curiosity. "I've never knelt to two at the same time, but I like the idea." Her eyes go to Amanda and she smiles. "I can take quite a bit. Can't I, Sir," she says, smiling at Misha.

"Oh, I'd love to co-top your girl." Amanda winks at both Misha and Alyssa. "I haven't played with a girl in too long! Somehow I tend to end up with dominant guys." This gets Misha another wink. "So yes, that's a definite yes."

"Oh great--yes, you'll definitely have fun with her then," Misha says with a laugh, pinching Alyssa's thigh. "And we can arrange a time when you'd like to try out the submission thing, whenever you're ready. I'd love to help you explore that." Oh, would he ever.

The idea of being under the control of two dominants has Alyssa nearly buzzing. She spent so long pleasing one dom that barely did anything and now there will be two. The pinch brings a low, soft moan and Alyssa spreads her legs slightly, silently offering herself to Misha's fingers if he so desires.

"Unless nervousness disqualifies me from being ready... as soon as we can find a date where we both have time for it, I'm ready to give it a try." Amanda has no idea if she'll be able to get through it without safewording, but she just has to try it, maybe more than once.

"We'll wait until you're ready on the submission thing then. Just give me a call," Misha says, because the timing doesn't feel right to him on that, not with Alyssa here cooling her heels, and the idea still new and terrifying in Amanda's brain. "On the other hand . . . we could still have some fun. The three of us, I mean." He chuckles.

Alyssa takes a drink then smiles as she hears Misha's words, wondering what the time ahead of her will hold. Turning slightly, Alyssa grins sheepishly at Misha, dark eyes lowering for a moment. "I'll be under both you and Amanda, Sir? At the same time?" Alyssa admits that she's wondered just what the woman would be like as a domme and the idea Misha and Amanda together brings a shiver.

"I think that's the idea, yes." Amanda answers Alyssa's question, grinning wide. "I've never done a threesome, but I think it will be a lot of fun. And I can finally see you when you're topping," she adds, nudging Misha slightly.

"Good point!" Yet another reason why it's a good idea. He grins at Alyssa, dark mind already considering the possibilities. "Hmm. Now what to do to her . . ." So many possibilities. He remembers Amanda talking about CBT. "Anything you'd like to try, Amanda?"

"Mmh, well, you know I love genital play." Amanda replies, purring at the idea. "If Alyssa is up for that?" She turns to look at Alyssa, making it clear that directed the question at her as well as at Misha.

"Genital play?" she asks, a slow grin taking its place on her face as she eyes Amanda. "I'd love to see what ideas you could come up with. What ways you like to play with your sub." Alyssa shifts in her spot, wondering what it will be like under the two acting as one.

Misha laughs. "Well I always love me some pussy play. Now cock and ball torture . . .ehh . . . not really thrilled about that idea yet. Hits too close to home I think. But yes. I definitely think we could come up with some ideas for genital play." He's practically rubbing his hands together in his eagerness. "Alyssa, book us a room, then? And I don't remember a lot of limits for you, but if you want any for this scene, speak up now."

Flushing at the words from Misha, Alyssa grins then slides from the bar stool, takes one last sip of her drink then looks up to Misha, shaking her head. "No sir, not really anything other than I'd definitely like to keep attached what's attached." She leans up and presses a kiss to his cheek then turns to go book the room, pausing in her steps. "Is there anything specific for the room, sir?"

Misha glances over at Amanda. "Is there anything specific we need for the room?" Not that he can think of first hand, but she may have her own ideas.

"Not for the first time, no," Amanda shakes her head. "A normal room will be just fine to see how she reactus to things." She smirks. "The standard toys they're stocked with will be more than sufficient."

That get a nod, and Misha smiles at Alyssa. "You know what to do, then." He brings out his wallet to pay for the drinks. Once Alyssa is out of earshot, he leans in to talk to Amanda. "So, ideas on what we're going to do? Or are we just making it up as we go along?"

"You know I love clamps on sensitive body parts," Amanda replies. "Clamps, ginger... but mostly making up as we go." She laughs. "Anytime I ever planned a scene, I ended up going into a completely different direction."

"Ooh, ginger. We'll have to ask if they have any of that. I also hear those Listerine tabs work well," Misha says, smiling at the idea of clamps. "Okay--and I need to know your limits as a top as well. I like knives and blood. What are your feelings about those kinds of things?"

"I've never done either, but it's on my list of things to learn from Josh. So I wouldn't actively participate with the knives, but I'm fine. My limits are... the usual. You know, no animals, children, death... nothing that we should have to worry about tonight."

"That works," Misha says with a nod. He doesn't plan on any serious blood tonight--something like that takes preparation. Also, he doesn't know Amanda well enough to take his girl into something like that the first time playing with another dom. They can stick to other things for tonight. "Well, shall we see if Alyssa has the room booked for us yet, then?" He can't think of anything else they need to discuss. If something comes up, he'll speak up.

Key card in her hand, Alyssa thanks the gentleman at the desk then makes her way back toward Misha and Amanda. She knows and trusts Misha and trusts that he'll take care of her under the hand of someone else, that doesn't stop the nerves, however. "Sir," she says, handing Misha the card, "the room's booked and waiting."

Amanda gets up as she sees Alyssa walking back towards them. "Perfect," she replies. "Then lets go, should we?" She turns around to wait for Misha, thinking that he should lead the way.

Misha takes the keycard from Alyssa, acknowledging her with a smile, and leads the two of them to the elevators, punching the button then turning around to drink in the sight of the two of them. God, he's a lucky man, that's all he can say. "Alyssa, as soon as we get in the room, I want you to strip naked and kneel for Amanda. Let her see what a good girl you are." He chuckles. "And if you misbehave for me tonight, you won't be coming for a week." He knows that's probably one of her worst torments.

And the night truly begins. Alyssa's eyes lower and she nods to Misha's orders. "Yes Sir, kneel naked for Miss Amanda." Miss Amanda? She's never knelt to a woman and the words on how to refer to Amanda fluster her. "I'll be good, Sir. Honest I will, but..." she pauses then glances at Amanda. "What do I refer to Amanda as?"

Misha glances to Amanda, because really, that's her call.

"Ma'am will be just fine, Alyssa," Amanda replies. It doesn't take long for the elevator to reach the floor they need and Amanda stands back, waiting for Misha to lead the way to the room they booked.

Misha finds the room and sweeps the room key through, opening the door for the two ladies. God, he's a lucky guy. "I think we should start by Alyssa undressing and kneeling for us while we set things up," he announces, giving Alyssa a meaningful look. "Make it look nice, slave." As for himself, he starts opening up cabinets and drawers, looking for fun things to torture Alyssa with.

The moment they enter the room, Alyssa nods to Misha's words then moves to the center of the room. "Of course, Sir," she replies, voice soft. There isn't much clothing to remove, but with a sway of hips and slow moving hands that skim but never truly touch, the petite, dark haired slave slowly sinks to her knees, naked. Hands behind her back, chin up and knees spread wide, Alyssa displays herself for both to look over, wanting to please her owner.

"You do have a pretty girl there," Amanda says to Misha, as she makes a bit of a show out of circling Alyssa a few times, taking a good, close look. She leaves the choice of toys mostly to Misha for now - he knows her best - but she does take a pair of clamps and a crop out of one of the drawers.

Misha nods at the crop--that's a good choice of toys. But just one pair of clamps? Oh no, no--he finds a bag of clothespins, fully intending to use all of them. Alyssa can take it. He looks for some string as well, so that he can make some zippers out of them, and a little rubber flogger for genital play. And a nice large vibrator, one that can be strapped into place. Hmm. And the piece de resistance, a 'misery stick'--a little very flexible stick with a plastic bead on the end. He's not sure what's it's made of--but the fact he can bend it nearly in half means there's that much force he can deliver with a minimum of effort. And the little bead will concentrate pain in a tiny area, leaving little purple bruises wherever he uses it. Thus the name.

There are times in one's life where you seriously wonder about the decisions you make and as Alyssa kneels there, in front of what she's coming to realize are two people of the same mind, she knows this is one of those moments. She doesn't break her pose but dark, wide eyes staying on Amanda as the woman circles her, only darting to the side as she tries to catch sight of the toys being chosen. Alyssa knows how Misha plays but Amanda is a wild card - the two of them together nearly frightening. "Sir, may your slave speak freely?" she asks, eyes lowered.

Misha glances over at Alyssa as he sets out the toys, wondering if she's having second thoughts. "Yes, speak up, slave."

"I'm sorry Sir, was just simply wondering if I'm allowed to make noises or speak or does Sir wish me to remain quiet." Quiet is not one of Alyssa's strong suits and she can only hope that if Misha and Amanda want silence that they'll at least gag her.

Misha snorts; for him, that's a no brainer. "Lots of noise. If Amanda has trouble with your whining and pleading, though, be aware that I'll gag you." He nods to Amanda. "She likes to make you think she's hating things and begs to stop. Don't fall for it."

Amanda laughs at that. "Oh, that won't stop me." She knows that Misha knows Alyssa well enough to not let either of them go too far. "And I agree, lots of noise. I love hearing the noises of the boys and girls I play with."

Alyssa lets out a soft whimper at the words and has no doubt in her mind that Misha and Amanda plan on drawing out as many sounds and screams as possible from her. And there are definitely times she'd love Misha to stop the pain when she asks but she also knows she'd just beg him to begin again. "Thank you Sir, Ma'am."

Misha smiles, nodding. "Right. Let's get her tied up, first--I don't want her to be able to struggle and try and close her legs on us." He knows Alyssa can be bratty enough to do that sometimes--plus with the type of play they're doing today, it's almost a primal reaction, and one difficult to control. He makes a motion for her to lie down on the bed, swatting her with his hand when she doesn't move quick enough to get into place. Then he gets some simple ropes, and starts to tie her ankles to the bed posts, legs spread wide where she won't be able to close them.

The fact she's being tied gives her pause and Alyssa yelps at the swat to her ass. "But Sir, I promise I'll keep my legs open, you don't need to tie me open. Please, Sir." She can feel her heart race in her chest as the ropes become tighter and she tries to pull her legs in, finding the ropes hold her tight, her pussy and clit open to whatever Misha and Amanda have planned. "Please Sir...Ma'am?" Anyone?

"Please what?" Amanda taunts Alyssa. She trails Alyssa's body with one of her fingers, letting her feel her nail, but avoiding any sensitive places. Starting at her right foot, going up her calf and further up on the outer side of her thigh.

Misha pulls Alyssa's hands up over her head, tying her wrists together first, then running a rope to an eyebolt at the head of the bed to tie them down there as well, leaving her completely helpless. He reaches over to pinch one of her nipples, twisting it a little as he watches Amanda tease his girl.

"I'll hold still Ma'am," she murmurs, eyes on Amanda. Squirming under Amanda's teasing, Alyssa tugs at the ankle restraints as her flesh prickles under the touch. She watches in silence as Misha wraps her wrists, groaning as he stretches her out taught on the bed. "I don't get any play in the ropes, Sir?" Alyssa tries to tug against the ropes, feeling the pull in her body, her pussy already wet with need.

"Now why would we want to give you any play in the ropes?" Amanda asks with a smirk. As she reaches Alyssa's chin with her finger she slides it into her partly open mouth, waiting for her to start sucking it.

Alyssa knows better than to try to answer that question; she's very aware of a rhetorical phrase when she hears it. Wide eyes gaze upward as the slim finger slides between her lips and, immediately, Alyssa begins to suck. The feeling is so much different than Misha's - the flesh soft against her tongue - and she purrs her thanks up to Amanda.

"Oh I think she likes that," Misha says, watching in fascination as Alyssa sucks on Amanda's delicate fingers. This could definitely be an interesting thing to watch, the two of them. For his part, he takes out some of the clothespins and reaches over to play with a nipple, making it nice and hard.

"Nnnghhh!" Her petite frame pushes up toward the taunting at her nipple, arm and leg muscles pulling taught against her binds. Though Alyssa knows what's coming, her entire body shivering with anticipation, she never releases Amanda's finger, continuing to suck feverishly at the slim digit.

"Mmmmh, looks like she does." Amanda grins as she sees what Misha's getting up to with Alyssa's nipple. Deciding that she will help him with the decoration - but in an entirely different place of her body - Amanda trails her finger down Alyssa's body again until she's scraping over Alyssa's clit with her nail, teasing it.

Hands flex tight before splaying wide as Amanda's fingernail finds Alyssa's already oversensitive flesh, but it's not until that wicked nail finds her clit does Alyssa relinquish her hold on the finger. Shaking her head, Alyssa looks up, eyes widening as she sees the devious look on Amanda's face. "Please, no Ma'am, please not there."

Amanda has no intention to use the clamp on Alyssa's clit - for now. It's a bit too early in the scene for pain like this. But Alyssa doesn't need to need to know that. She catches Alyssa's gaze, raising an eyebrow. "Where I place the clamps is my decision, isn't it?" Holding the clamp in one hand, she keeps rubbing Alyssa's clit with her other, watching the girl's reactions.

"Absolutely, that's your call," Misha says with a chuckle. He puts the first clothespin not on the nipple, but along the sensitive underflesh of the breast, and then puts another one and another one--five in a row, which he then ties together with a bit of string. Perfect place for a zipper.

"Yes Ma'am, it is. Forgive me." If her binds would just give the slightest, Alyssa might be able to close her legs against the teasing at her clit, but, suddenly, there's a new sensation of pain and her petite body tries to twist away. "Ungh! Sir, please! It...it hurts! Take 'em off, please!" The soft flesh pinched tight, Alyssa stares up into the eyes of the people who have her completely at their mercy.

Amanda chuckles to herself at Alyssa's protest. One hand still on Alyssa's clit, she attaches the first clamp to the right outer lip of her pussy, already reaching out for another clamp.

Misha laughs, as he begins affixing clamps to Alyssa's other breast, still leaving her nipples alone. He has something special planned for them. This time he doesn't make a zipper, but leaves them as individual clamps along the underside of the breast. "Of course it hurts. That's the whole point." He thwacks one clothespin with his thumb on purpose, sending it vibrating.

"Unahhh! Please! Need to close my legs!" Alyssa pleads with Amanda as the woman smiles down at her, the pain of the clamp setting in hard. Breath quickening, she tries to arch, push her hips down into the bed, but her ties are unforgiving and won't allow even the slightest movement of her limbs. Alyssa doesn't try to hide the tears as Misha attaches the next set of clips, her cry sounding through the room as the clip rocks hard against the soft flesh. "Nnnahhgod..." The sound, half groan of pleasure, half moan of pain, sounds raspy behind clenched teeth.

"But how are we supposed to get access to you if we allow you to close your legs?" Amanda asks. She attaches a second clamp to Alyssa's outer lip, a third and fourth one goes to each of her thighs, catching the sensitive skin on the insides.

"Couldn't Ma'am, you couldn't! Please, wanna come, please?" With each clamp between her legs, Alyssa's panting grows heavier and her petite frame fights against the ties that have her bound. "Sir, please," she pleads, eyes turning to Misha, "please Sir, please may I come? My clit, please, just..."

Misha laughs at her, finding the clover clamps. She'll really love those. "No, slave. No you may not. You'll have to wait until we're good and ready for you to come." Of course he knows how easily she orgasms, and this may mean she inadvertently disobeys. Just more opportunity for him to punish her, he figures. He puts on the first clover clamp onto one of her nipples. "Be good or I'll tighten these," he warns.

"Close already, Sir, please! Soo, oh so close." Her words, barely whined out through the whimpers of pleasure and pain halt as she catches sight of what's in Misha's hand. Head shaking at the image in front of her, Alyssa stares at the evil looking clamps. "Sir, where...ungh! No! Fuck, oh god! Oh...oh...sorry! I'maah!" There's not a way in hell for her to stave off the climax and her entire body quakes with the force as the clamp pinches her nipple, the pain traveling straight to her clit. At this rate, she'll be an exhausted mess before their time is over here.

"I think," Amanda says, quite amused by the reaction, "that your slave just disobeyed your direct order, Misha." She slips two fingers into Alyssa's pussy, still feeling the slight contractions. "Yes, she definitely disobeyed."

"Yes she did," Misha says with a laugh, first pulling on each of the clover clamps to further tighten them, and then reaching over for the rubber flogger and then striking her belly hard with it, knowing the thin rubber strands will pack a powerful sting. He strikes her four times with it. "Such a slut, unable to hold her orgasms," he chides her, winking at Amanda.

Shaking her head up to Amanda and Misha even as her pussy clamps down around the fingers inside her, Alyssa's eyes widen. A hard gasp stealing her breath as the clamps tighten down on her nipples, she begins to plead. "Didn't mean to, honest! Please, it won't happenaaaah!" Her cries fill the room around them as her lithe frame jerks against the binds, muscles tensing as she tries to curl in and away from the pain to her stomach. "AHHGOD! It hurts!"

Amanda can't help but snicker at Alyssa's attempts to hide from the pain. Slipping her fingers out of Alyssa's pussy again, she holds them against the girl's lips, expecting her to lick them clean without any further command.

"Of course it hurts," Misha says after the fourth stroke, watching Amanda's hand with interest to see what Alyssa will do with it. The welts are already starting to show on Alyssa's belly, a lovely reminder of this hot scene that he's sure she'll be feeling for a while.

Amanda's fingers tease and torment to mix pleasure and it's all Alyssa can do to not come again. "Please stop..." The pain and sting seems to not only linger but grow even after Misha puts the flogger down, but even as tears fill dark eyes to trickle down her temples, Alyssa parts her lips and sucks in Amanda's fingers with a hiccuped sob.

"Please stop isn't a safeword, is it?" Amanda teases. "And you're doing so good, licking my finger clean like that." She pulls it out of Alyssa's mouth again and picks up another clamp, this one not as tight and with softer rubber at the ends. "Now that you've come... you know where this is going, right?"

Staring up to the clamp in Amanda's fingers, Alyssa's eyes fly open wide at the woman's words and she immediately looks to Misha as if the man will save her or have mercy on her. "Oh god, please no. Please, I'll be good, Ma'am! Oh fuck, please no, please? It's too tender!" Struggling against the binds holding her legs open, Alyssa fights in vain to pull her thighs together.

"That's the point, girl," Misha comments blithely, reaching over for a vibrator--not to use on Alyssa's cunt, however. He turns it on and instead touches it just lightly to one of the nipple clamps, setting it vibrating as well. "I think I change my mind. I don't care if you come. Except of course I might flog you every time you do it." That's just being purely evil of course. But he does want to see her come until she's exhausted, and there doesn't seem to be much point of having her try to restrict that.

Mind still wrapped around Misha's words, Alyssa knows very well that there's no way she'll last without coming and no way her body or mind will hold out beyond a few climaxes without shattering into a million pieces. "Sir, please, I don't wanna come, pleaaaahgod!" Her entire body shudders as the nipple clamps vibrate and, though she knows no help will come, she gazes up to Amanda.

"It won't hurt... much," Amanda promises. She runs a hand over Alyssa's thighs and pussy, slightly jiggling the clamps that are already attached on purpose. Teasing her, she pinches her clit just before she attaches the clamp to the red, engorged flesh of Alyssa's clit.

"Pleeease! Please nooo, don't!" The pinch to her clit robs her lungs of every ounce of air they hold and doe shaped eyes widen in horror as she tries to kick out. "Eeeeeaaaahh!" Body jerking at the pain, Alyssa's screams fill the room as her tears stream down her temples.

Misha just waits until the spasms pass, then takes the misery stick and bends it back, letting it thwap the inside of Alyssa's arm. The little thing looks so innocent, but it's meaner than any cane. In fact, it leaves an instant welt there, and he knows there will be more screams on the way.

The hard thump of something to the underside of her arm takes her by complete shock and between every other sensation of pain, it takes a moment for her mind to register this new and intense pain and her only desire is to escape the next hit. "Unh! Ahhhgod! Stop! No more, Sir! Please..." She can feel the welt rise up, and the itch that follows joins the tears that fall as she comes once more.

Amanda watches, fascinated, as Misha uses the misery stick. She's never seen one before, but the effect is quite interesting. Such a little thing being so evil. "May I try it out?" she asks Misha. "We should have her thighs match her arms, don't you think?"

"Absolutely," Misha says with a grin, handing over the little toy for Amanda to try out. "Just bend it back and let it strike her--it's like a cane on steroids. You just have to remember--the smaller the surface area, the harder the force in that tiny area. That's why it hurts so damned much." And yes, he's tried it on himself to see what it feels like. Hurts like a bitch.

Alyssa knows there's absolutely no way she's escaping the pain that's coming as she watches Misha pass over the horrible, evil little device to Amanda but though her logical mind knows what's coming, the instinctual side of her still tries to escape. "Please Ma'am, please no. I'll do anything, just...just not...not hard. Please!" Alyssa's muscles ache, her thighs and pussy are drenched and she knows the time here's only begun.

Amanda takes the misery stick from Misha and does a few practice swings in the air. Bending it back, letting it snap forward again, until it feels comfortable in her hand. "I'll try and be gentle," Amanda promises. "As gentle as one can be with this little devilish toy." The next swing isn't practice anymore as the bead connects with the flesh of Alyssa's inner thighs.

She swears Amanda's swinging that horrible little thing just to torment her, make her wonder when the strike will come that will contact flesh. "Please, please...yes, Ma'am, gentle." The look on Amanda's face, however, says a different thing entirely and, closing her eyes, Alyssa braces as best she can. "Unnnaaahgod! Stop! Please!" Alyssa's leg does its best to kick out against the pain as the muscle tries to cramp from the hit, her body spasms as the movement jerks at the clamp on her clit and huge tears begin a new trek down to wet dark hair.

"Oh let me see the mark on that one," Misha says eagerly, leaning over Amanda's shoulder to take a look, sounding as gleeful as a kid in a toystore. The sadist in him is positively gleeful over the dark little bruise that immediately appears on Alyssa's skin. And that's what he needs; he's hard as a rock, and throbbing. "Oh we need more of those. Definitely." For himself he finds a vibrator, and turns it on, letting it lightly brush the clamps on Alyssa's side, setting them vibrating, and then the ones on her nipples, intent on overwhelming her.

"We definitely need more of those," Amanda agrees. She repeats the action on Alyssa's other thigh, then again and again until each thigh has three identical marks on it in an almost perfect line. Each mark closer to her pussy than the last.

Alyssa's petite frame fights the bindings as her head drops back, the vibrations against the clamps sending her over the edge again. Only vaguely aware of the wetness of her pussy, her mind screams as she sees Amanda lift the end of the device. "Unnaaaa! No! Please Sir...Ma'am! Please! I'll be gooaaahgod!" Sobs mix with cries of anguish as her senses become overloaded. Each spasm of her body against the hits moves the clamp on her clit and her cries turn to mumbled pleas for mercy.

Misha's breathing is getting erratic, and it's becoming harder to concentrate, watching Alyssa's reactions to everything. "Damn," he murmurs, because just watching the two of them is slowly unraveling his control. The sad thing is, he doesn't know who he wants more at the moment, Alyssa or Amanda. Definitely Alyssa, he decides. She's really the one making him hot and bothered by the screams of pain. "Nice, huh?" He wishes he could be more help. But he's about at the point where he just wants to fuck.

Amanda grins at Misha. She can tell how turned on he is by this - and if the wetness between her own legs is any indication, so is she. "Very nice... but I guess you'd like me to move out the way a little?" she winks.

Wide doe-like eyes go from Misha to Amanda as huge tears stream down her temples and Alyssa knows by the look on Misha's face that it's not over, not yet. Every part of her hurts, her muscles scream for mercy as the ties continue to hold her out and she's not sure her clit will ever be the same again. "Please, please take the clamps off now, please Sir? Please Ma'am, I'll be good, won't come again, I won't. Jus...just take 'em off please. It hurts, my clit hurts so bad, please!" The last word comes on a sob as Alyssa realizes the pain now is nothing to when the clamps are removed.

"I think maybe you can keep Alyssa's mouth there busy--she is pretty noisy, after all," Misha says, imagining the sight of Amanda sitting on Alyssa's face--nngh. Very nice thought. "And of course you can help me pull off those clamps at nice little opportune moments." For himself, he pulls off his shirt and slips off his shoes, undressing as he heads over to grab himself a condom, mostly because they're playing with a third here--Amanda.

Even though Amanda could just climb on the table the way she's dressed, she decides to give Misha something additional to look at. Watching him undress, she gets out of her dress and bra as well before she climbs on the table, facing Misha, her pussy hovering just over Alyssa's face - waiting for Misha to start.

Barely aware of the goings-on around her - of Misha preparing to fuck her, Amanda undressing - Alyssa's lost in the sensations of her own pain. She's unsure her clit will ever be the same, her nipples no longer have the shrill pain but are a dull, throbbing ache she knows will intensify a thousand times when the clamps come off. "Please, please, please be careful," she murmurs, breath hot against Amanda's pussy "hurts so bad. So bad."

"Yank the zipper off, since she's trying to give orders," Misha says blithely, just before he unties Alyssa's ankles to prop them on his shoulders, being careful of the clamp on her clit as he starts to sink his dick into her.

Amanda is quite... amused that Misha is really going to fuck Alyssa with the clamp still on her clit. Even she wouldn't be that mean. But then... this is Misha their talking about. "Gladly," she replies and pulls off the zipper, muffling Alyssa's cries by lowering her pussy down onto her mouth.

Her scream reverberates off the walls and Alyssa swears the flesh of her breast was just ripped from her body. Her lithe body spasms with the pain of it, tears fall down her temples as her scream continues. The sounds and sights are hidden as Amanda's pussy settles against Alyssa's open mouth and, for a brief moment, leaves gasping for air.

To be honest, Misha is careful not to brush the clamp too hard as he slowly begins to fuck Alyssa, because there is mean and then there is just plain psychotic. But he grins as she screams, feeling his cock give a hard twitch at the sound of her pain. "That's it," he murmurs, still fucking her slowly as he reaches over for the clothespins along her hip, pulling them off one by one.

Jerking as Misha pushes in, Alyssa sends out a scream into Amanda's pussy as the clamp on her clit presses in, the wetness from the woman coats her lips, tongue, and blocks out the sounds of pain to some extent. Moisture from her tears coat her temples and hair as she pulls against the rails of the bed that hold her. Every push of Misha's cock brings a keening sound of pain, the clamps being removed bring yelps, but Alyssa tries to lap at Amanda's wetness as best she can.

Alyssa's screams are joined by Amanda's moans as she licks her even through the screams. She bears further down, pressing her clit against Alyssa's tongue. She's close already and she tweaks one of Alyssa's nipple, hoping for another cry.

Amanda gets what she's hoping for. Alyssa screams out, the sound broken by Amanda's movements that rob Alyssa of her air periodically. She can feel Amanda's body quiver against her tongue as she licks. Nipples on fire, clit throbbing painfully with every one of Misha's movements, she wonders how the tender flesh will ever recover. "Nnnff! Unnnnff!"

It seems that Amanda is close, so Misha just holds steady for the moment, slowly fucking Alyssa and enjoying the way that Amanda is clearly getting off his girl's pain. He does reach over, however, to pull off the other nipple clamp. The last clamp on Alyssa's clit will wait until Amanda is done--no sense in risking having Alyssa either bite her or pass out.

That last scream vibrating against her clit is all Amanda needs and she comes with a cry of her own, her hips pushing forward, rubbing herself against Alyssa's tongue, against her mouth.

When the nipple clamps leaves and Amanda's wetness coats Alyssa's tongue and lips, she laps greedily, wanting anything to help take her mind from the horrible, searing pain at her pussy and the dull throb of her flesh across her nipples and stomach. Her thighs ache where the muscles, pulled tight, were popped with the stick from before, and Alyssa knows there's still one horrid clamp left.

"Might want to lift up for a second, Amanda--in case she bites," Misha warns Amanda once he's certain that she's past her climax. And then without further ado, he gently removes the clamp from Alyssa's clit--and starts fucking her. Hard.

As Amanda rises, there's barely time for a half of a breath before Alyssa feels Misha's hands at her and a blinding flash of pain robs her body of its air and white lights go off behind her eyes. A pain races along Alyssa's spine, one like she's never known before, and her lithe, exhausted body thrashes against her restraints as Misha begins to fuck her. "IT HURTS! PLEASE! UNGH!" Grunted out words of pain come as her nostrils flare and she struggles to simply keep from passing out as the blood rushes back to her clit.

Amanda stays on her knees, hovering over Alyssa's face, still catching her own breath as she watches the spectacle. She can only imagine the pain Alyssa's in - she knows what a clamp on her own clit feels like, but she's never had to wear one for that long. It's quite a display, though, and since Misha isn't stopping, she knows that Alyssa can take it.

Misha fucks her roughly then, no longer concerned about having to be careful and knowing that despite the pain he'll probably be able to make Alyssa come one more time as his own climax races forward. He's powerless to stop it at this point and just keeps fucking her through it, giving a shout as he spills his seed into the condom.

Words leave her as Misha continues to fuck her, only sounds of grunts and moans drift upward from under Amanda's hips. Alyssa no longer pulls at the restraints, her body exhausted, mind nearly numb with the mix of pain and pleasure, but she cries out, the sound raspy and weak, as Misha comes and drives her own body over once more.

It's arousing to watch Misha come like this and Amanda smiles as she remembers feeling him insider herself as well. Remembering it quite clearly. "Your slave is quite fun," she remarks, stilling grinning.

It's a moment before Misha can comment, resting against Alyssa's breasts and just coming down from his climax. When he can, he cracks a smirk at Amanda, nodding. "She's a lot of fun."

Sweating and panting, tears streaming from her eyes, Alyssa struggles to simply take a deep breath as Misha's weight rests against her body. Her clit till throbs, her nipples feel like they're on fire and she's sure there are bruises covering her. Alyssa opens her mouth to speak but all that comes is a strangled squeak.

"And she seems to have lost her voice," Amanda adds. She climbs down from the bed again to sit down on a nearby chair for now, her legs shaky from both the orgasm and from having knelt above Alyssa for so long.

Misha pulls out gently, and begins to release Alyssa's bonds, reaching over once that's done to offer her some water to drink. "Such a good girl," he softly coos to her, kissing her as he tends to her needs. Yes, he's very proud of her.

Alyssa takes a ragged breath once Amanda moves away; the coolness on her face feels amazing, drying the moisture left there by Amanda's pussy. Whimpering as Misha pulls out of her, Alyssa doesn't move as he unfastens her restraints, more than a little afraid to bring any further movement to her clit. "It hurts," she whispers, throat dry even after sipping at the water offered her. "Hurts so bad."

"You're going to be sore for a while," Misha agrees, looking for something to gently clean off her fluids without causing too much distress. "I could suggest ice on it, but I don't know if that would be much of an improvement." And is he sorry? Not really. She'll be fine in a day or two.

Dark, blood-shot eyes open wide and Alyssa shakes her head at the idea of ice on her clit. "No ice," she squeaks out, "please." She knows that what she's feeling now is nothing compared to the first moment she tries to walk, tries to put pressure against her clit and yet even that knowledge is perfect. "Thank you," Alyssa whispers, mind and body exhausted.

"It'll be fine soon," Amanda comments. "I know that from experience." She still remembers that training session. And how she cursed out her trainer for making her experience the pain. "Just try and wear skirts the next couple of days. No pants."

Turning her head just enough to see Amanda, she nods. Alyssa can't even think of moving right now much less putting on clothing that will rub against her bruised and painful clit. She's worn clit clips but never while being fucked like this, never for so long. Too exhausted to even want to move, dark eyes turn back to Misha.

"I'll take care of you. You did very well, girl," Misha says with real fondness, smiling at her. Of course he doesn't have as much of an idea of what she feels like right now, but he knows it had to have been intense and that she'll need plenty of aftercare.

Alyssa Milano and Misha Collins - Of Blood and Steel

Sun, 22 Nov 2009 21:35:19 GMT

[Current - Comments welcomed, screened and loved!]

WARNING FOR BLOODPLAY! (If blood and knives squick you, this is NOT the fic for you. Also touches of vampirisim and unprotected sex. They're playing RACK, not SSC here. This scene goes beyond what has been seen much here in the Establishment. You have been officially warned.)

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Filming for the fifth season of Supernatural has begun now, so it's constant flying between L.A. and Vancouver for Misha. His time is more limited again--summer was far too short and he and Alyssa have only been able to spend a handful of weekends together. But they've been productive. He's taken her toy shopping to accent his own collection of toys, fitted her for a few new corsets with the idea that some day he'll be able to train her waist to them, and done a few scenes with her, including taking her with him to his flogging class to be his bottom to practice on. He's still not sure he loves flogging. He's more of a knife and rope kinda guy. But it's a way to broaden his skills, and he's pretty sure she's enjoying it.

Today he's combining a few other things that both she and he have wanted to do. He remembers their first scene together, the cuts on her pale skin with the knife, the taste of her blood. He wants to do more with that, in the privacy of her home where he won't have to worry about hotel towels and such. And he wants her to experience more semi-long term bondage.

Thus he's had her tied to the bed for the last four hours, lying on her stomach spreadeagle, wrists bound with rope tied to the headboard, ankles tied to the legs of the bed, helpless and trapped for his amusement. In addition, just to make it extra fun, he's also put on her clit a delightful new toy, the Venus butterfly, strapped down so she can't wriggle away from it's little vibrator. It's radio controlled, and he's wearing the controller, so whenever he likes, he can just turn in on for a moment or two, and watch her writhe. As usual on his weekend there have been those mundane, business-type things to attend to like paying the bills and answering fan mail, so he's been doing that while he watches her, waiting until all his 'chores' are done before he gets to reward both of them by playing with her.

Their times together seem too few and far between, so when Misha mentions play of any kind, there's no way Alyssa is going to complain. Misha's growing in his skills and imaginative ways of play and torment and there's not a chance in hell she's going to balk at finding out what he's thought up or learned.

Alyssa knew the moment Misha tied her on her stomach that she was in for a long day, what she wasn't prepared for is the evil little device that's nestled up against her clit or the fact that, for the most part, Misha's stayed just out of her sight, choosing to torment her from elsewhere in the room or house. The first and second orgasms were amazing - long, drawn-out bouts of pleasure; the fourth and fifth ones had her moaning out, begging for Misha to please stop with the device; the seventh and eighth ones brought pure pain as her engorged clit throbbed against the torture implement. None of those, however, brought the tears that coat her cheeks. The tears come from the times Misha has let her get close only to turn the vibrations off, leaving her sobbing in frustration.

"Sir, my clit hurts so bad. Please? Please take that thing off me!" Her clit aches and she knows that she'll walk funny for the next day at least. The problem is that half of her still wants to come again, the other half just wants the wicked little thing away from her clit.

Misha grins as he approaches the bed, setting his controller down on the edge of it, then leisurely taking off his shirt. The bed has been covered with a plastic cover to protect it, and the floor has tarp laid over it as well to protect the carpet. He gets to be messy today. "Poor baby," he teases her, as he removes his sweat pants and tosses them to the side. Once he's as naked as her, he leans forward to run a hand up her leg, over her ass, and up her back. "Maybe I'll make the rest of you hurt. Then you won't notice it as much." He chuckles darkly.

Every inch of her body seems hypersensitive and the moment Misha rocks the bed, Alyssa groans softly, her body trying to at once move away and toward, all the while the ropes hold her tight. Misha's only given her the barest of details for what he plans, but the way everything is covered has her more than a little anxious. "It's swollen up, Sir. Please...your girl won't be able to walk tomorrow." She tries to move against the touch to her already heated flesh as dark eyes close. "Sir's gonna make his girl hurt." The words are a statement, she knows she'll scream as many times as he wishes.

"What, you need to walk somewhere tomorrow?" Misha quips, smirking as he heads over to his toy bag for a few things. A few blades, including his newest knife, a sleek Coldsteel tanto blade of folded steel, a cane made of light steel rather than rattan--more manly than the typical cane, in his mind. A condom, of course. And last, but certainly not least, is the cupping set he bought last weekend. He brings things over, keeping them out of Alyssa's sight, then he crawls onto the bed to rub against her, whispering in her ear. "I hope you're not squeamish."

With those words, Alyssa has no doubt that she most likely will be spending the day tomorrow on her knees or with legs spread for Misha's pleasure and a new batch of silent tears fall at the idea of her clit being toyed with more. "No Sir, no place other than here." Alyssa hears him and tries to turn to look, finally gives up then lays her head against the bed. When the bed moves once more, Alyssa moans as the movement jostles the toy against her. Her sounds quiet at the touch and Misha's words and Alyssa knows her blood will spill. "No Sir," she whispers, her mind calming, "not squeamish."

"Good girl," Misha tells her, in a low gentle tone. Gentle, but firm. "You're going to bleed for me. Ever hear about blood-cupping before?" As he's talking, he runs the cool metal cane up and down her back, just letting her feel it against her skin for the moment. Her ass looks so perfect, so terribly pristine. It needs some marks for her to remember him by when he's in Vancouver working. He taps it lightly, hinting at what is to come.

"Yes Sir, you girl wants to," she returns, voice soft as her mind wraps around the thought that soon the coppery scent of her own blood will fill the room. "Cupping. I think so, Sir. That's...with the glass things?" She's seen pictures of it done - the skin pulled up tight into glass circles - never thinking it would be done to her. "Uhh..." Her body jerks at the light pop of the cane, pulling against the ropes, the whimper giving voice to the fact that her puss and thighs are coated in her own juices. "Not a cane? What...what is that?"

"This?" Misha holds the thin metal rod in front of Alyssa's face so she can see it. "I don't know what it's actual intended use is. I got it at Home Depot. I'm using it as a cane." And he swats her ass hard with it to demonstrate, bringing up a lovely red welt. "You'll feel this for a bit. Something to remember me every time you sit down."

Alyssa's eyes widen as she takes in the metal rod. "But it's metal, Sir," she says, as if Misha doesn't already know that. She felt several types of canes but none compare to the hard stinging thud from the metal baton. "Sir, pleaaaaaahhh! Nooo !" The scream echoes in the room around them as the hit lands and Alyssa yanks at the ropes, trying to get away from the sudden sting. "Sir, please! It...hurts!" Her words might carry more weight if her pussy wasn't dripping from the ache in her ass.

Yes it is metal, and Misha knows he'll have to take care with how much force he uses in wielding it. But he knows that applied even lightly, it'll sting like the devil. That's the whole point. "That's what I like to hear, girl," he says with satisfaction, and delivers another hard stinging blow, producing another welt. And one more. Three pretty red welts rising up on the pale skin.

Out of the corner of her eyes, Alyssa sees the movement of his arm and tries to brace against the pain - it doesn't help. "Uhhaaeeaahh!" Body jerking at the ropes that keep her pegged out for Misha's play, Alyssa's sobs grow muffled as she presses her face to the bed, immediately feeling the welts rise up on her flesh. Knowing she'll not be setting tomorrow, Alyssa writhes against the burn in her ass. "Sir. Please...please no." She knows him well enough, however, to know that 'stop' means nothing.

As it happens, three red stripes are all Misha has planned. On her ass. For now. He sets down the cane, not acknowledging her pleas, and instead opens up the cupping equipment, making sure he has it ready for when he starts cutting. "Don't move," he tells Alyssa in a stern voice. In that he's not kidding--movement now could be very harmful to her once he has the knife out. He unsheathes his blade, laying it on its side against the warm skin of her back so she knows what is coming next.

Her cries become little more than soft whimpers as Alyssa relaxes against the bed once more, wishing she could see what's going on behind her; the tone of her Sir's voice says that she'll find out soon enough. "No Sir, I won't." Rustling sounds fill her ears and images come to mind, but it's not until the cold of the blade touches her flesh does the soft inhale of breath join a light shiver of her body. "You're goin' to cut me," she murmurs, voice soft. "Sir's going to mark me?" Glancing around for a moment, Alyssa suddenly realizes why the plastic on the bed, it's how much there is that's throwing her. "Sir, why so much plastic?"

Misha chuckles darkly--even wickedly, he'd say. "Yes, I'm going to mark you. I want you to be aware, these cuts might leave small scars." The suction from the cupping set will be partly to thank for that, holding the cuts open and allowing them to bleed more. He kisses the nape of her neck. "And the reason for so much plastic is I'm going to draw more blood this time. And I'm going to make a mess." The actual bloodloss won't be severe--not even the amount drawn to give blood. But the room's probably going to look like a horror movie by the time they're done today.

Misha's laugh both makes Alyssa's fear rise doubly, her pussy even wetter than it was, and she lifts her head, eyes taking in her Sir's face as much as possible. "Scars? How many, Sir?" Her words are filled with curiosity more than anything; she knows that carrying the marks of the man that owns her is something meant to happen. Still not understanding the cupping idea, Alyssa knows that once Misha has his mind on something that he's gone to such lengths to prepare for,nothing's changing it. It's Misha's next words that puts a streak of fear up Alyssa's spine but she knows better than to try to move. "Sir's gonna play in my blood? Please Sir, please don't do this," she begins to plead, pulling at the ropes.

"I don't know how many scars," Misha answers truthfully, taking the cane and whapping her on the shoulder hard to stop her from squirming and pulling. "I'm not saying you will scar. Just that whenever I cut you, there's a chance that it may leave a scar." He sets down the cane again, laying a hand on her back, pressing down firmly. "What I'm going to do is make small cuts on your back, and then place the cups on them and pump them a few times to create a slight vacuum. That's going to suck at the cuts, and they're going to bleed. I want to taste you, I want to draw on you, and I'm going to cane you and there's going to be blood splattering everywhere. But you won't be harmed, girl. I would never harm you." Just telling her what he's going to do to her makes him hard as steel. Blood. It just . . . yeah. Gets all his animal desires fired up.

"Aaaghh!" Alyssa screams as metal strikes flesh but she immediately stills as bolts of pain spark against nerve endings. "Sorry Sir, I'll be still! I'll be good." Listening quietly then, her mind begins to play images that match Misha's words and the more he talks, the more wet she becomes. Misha knows her, knows how his girl needs the pain, and Alyssa knows that even through whatever pain he hands her, she's always safe. "Your girl knows she's safe, Sir. Knows you'll take care of her." Her mind processes the words then and she tenses, trembles, as another small climax claims her. "Caning? After the cuts and the..." Pausing for a moment, working that over in her head, she nods. "Will Sir let his girl taste? Please?"

He'd had confidence that Alyssa would enjoy this, deep down. Otherwise he wouldn't have set it up. Still, it's nice to hear that, because he's going to let both of them go deeper and more primal than he ever has before. He's been to demos on this, done cupping, done cutting, but never actually the two together. So, this will be his first time too. "Oh yes. You can taste too." He leans down, speaking low in her ear. "You realize, after this, we'll well and truly be fluid bonded." And they've been together a few months now. They know each other's health status.

She has no doubts in Misha's abilities to take her to, and bring her back from, her darkest fears and desires, the two often twining together in some strange fashion, but this is new and uncharted territory for her. Alyssa trusts him, that's all that matters in her mind. Still hyper aware of the knife against her flesh, Alyssa shivers as her Sir's breath brushes over her neck and the words sink in. "This girl will be part of her Sir," she says softly, lashes fluttering as she realizes the true meaning of those words, "and him a part of her." Lifting her head enough to nuzzle her cheek against him, Alyssa sighs. "Want this Sir."

"Good, because so do I," Misha says with a pleased little growl, leaning down to lick at the back of Alyssa's neck before he bites her there, hard. Okay, explanation time over. It's time to play. "Remember, don't move," he tells her just in case she forgot. And then he picks a place on her upper back and makes a little cut, no more than half an inch long, and just deep enough to break skin. Blood immediately wells to the surface, and then he takes one of the glass cups and wetting the rim, set it over the cut. A few pumps to seal the vacuum, and it sticks. The cut begins oozing blood, faster than before.

The shiver from the lick barely has time to prickle her flesh before the bite draws out a long, keening scream, hands clenching tight into fists and she sinks against the bed once more as he pulls away. "No Sir, won't move," she pants out, breath catching, "I won't. Sir, I..ahhh..." The hands that were clenched into fists splay open and toes spread as the burn from the blade hits and Alyssa swears she can already smell the scent of her own blood. Feelings something touch her skin, there's a sudden sensation of being given a huge hickey and the burn increases. "Sir, what...what's thaaaahh god! What is that? It stings!"

Alyssa's very responsive, which is just one of the many things about her that appeals to Misha. After all, what's better to a sadist than clear indication of pain? "That would be the cup," he tells her, feeling his cock throbbing, dangling; he reaches his free hand down to give himself a squeeze, to ease himself a little. He leans over her again, choosing another spot on the other side of her spine. "And this would be the knife." Another cut, and he fights the urge to begin licking it immediately as it blossoms red. Soon. He places another cup and pumps it a few times as well, as the first cup begins to slowly fill.

"It hurts," she groans out, doing her level best to resist the urge to writhe against the strange pain, "please. Wait. Uhnn!" Feeling the next cut, she does her best to remain still even as slender hips rock gently against the bed. Alyssa knows damn well that there's no way Misha will wait; he knows she doesn't truly want him to, but the reaction and need to beg is too strong in her, so she pleads for more, begs for the pain to stop, all the while her pussy drips. "The cup...it's hurting inside it! Stings so bad..."

"Oh, you little whiner," Misha snaps, but there's no real heat behind it. It's part of the game. "You keep whining like that and you aren't going to be able to taste yourself--or me. Because I'll gag you." Which he might or might not do, depending on things. Four, he decides - he'll do four cups. That should be plenty to play with. Another cut, another cup. He wipes the blade on her shoulder, leaving a smear of blood.

"Not whining, Sir," she groans out as the pull of the cups send strange signals of pain sparking against her nerve endings, "it hurts. It's strange though." Alyssa's hips work a solid but slight action against the bed as she humps against nothing, her clit so sore she's not sure it'll ever be the same. "Nnaahh," the sound, almost a purr, comes as she lifts her head, doing her best to look back. "Please, no gag. Your girl wants to taste, please. I'm being good."

"All right then, Misha says softly, satisfied with her apology. One more cut, one more cup. Well, one more cut for the cup, he decides suddenly, and then makes another cut, this one on Alyssa's shoulder where he couldn't possibly balance a cup. That one's purely for him, he decides, as he bends his head to lick at it, sucking.

Moaning at the next cut, Alyssa tries to wrap her head around the strange pain, the constant pull and tug, as if the things are trying to exsanguinate her little by little. "Thank you Sir, thank youuahhh." Her body tenses at the cut to her shoulder, but before she can say anything more, Misha's mouth is on her, the wet warmth wrapping around the mark. "Ohhh, Sir, yess please." Body arching up under him, Alyssa presses as much as she can to the feel of his mouth on her, even as the cups draw out more of her blood.

Oh, this is lovely. The coppery metallic taste of her, the sounds of her moans, all of it. Misha rubs his face against the bleeding cut, knowing it will leave a red smear across his cheek, wanting it. He turns Alyssa's head enough so that he can kiss her, sharing the taste of her, sharing his passion and his need, his fingers digging into her hips to hold her down. At this level of primalness there isn't much drive to talk. He just wants to feed, and hunt, and rut.

She's sinking down and there's not one thing she can do to stop it, not that she wants to, as her body and mind slips into an area of nothing more than the need to feel pain and be taken hard. The kiss takes her by surprise, but the immediate taste of her own blood brings a hard groan and she leans in, pulling against the bindings, trying to gain more of the taste. "Mmmph!" The cry escapes into her Sir's mouth as she feels fingers dig into her flesh but there's not even a thought of relinquishing the kiss - not until her Sir makes her. The feel of the cups, her achingly sore clit and the taste of the blood - her blood - bring another flood of wetness to her pussy.

The cups are about ready to take off, Misha decides, breaking off the kiss after a moment. He sets down the knife after wiping it clean on himself, gently prodding the vacuum-sealed cup--now he can either do this nicely, or cruelly. He slides the cup around a little, loosening the seal a bit--he'll be nice on the first one at least. "Get ready," he tells her, and then carefully pulls the cup loose, tilting it to hold it's contents as several drops escape and drip down Alyssa's back.

Watching Misha as he pulls back, Alyssa lifts her head then tenses as she catches just a glimpse of the knife in his hand but, it's not until she feels the added pressure on the device that's suctioned to her skin does she get nervous. "Sir, what's it feel like when the cups...nnhha!" Wriggling against the oddest sensations she's ever felt, Alyssa shivers as the trickles of blood finds her skin. "Unha, God, Sir...it aches. Strange though. Rub it, please?"

Hmm. That's an interesting request--one that Misha is happy to do, gently laying his fingers over the still open cut and then smearing the blood around there, rubbing it. Each of the little cups hold probably about a quarter cup, so altogether he'll be drawing about a cup of blood. Plenty to make a mess with. He turns over the cup onto Alyssa's ass, watching the blood make a splat--it's already starting to coagulate. He flattens it with his hand, leaving a big red handprint there, then tilts the cup to his mouth, drinking the last drops from it. Talk about an aphrodisiac.

There are times when when even the best ideas go horribly wrong - such was the idea that by Misha pressing on the mark it would ease the pain in the cut and the flesh around it. "Sir. It hurts," she groans as Misha's hand finds the tender skin, "can feel them still pulling." Alyssa's words no longer hold the sting of intense pain, endorphins flooding her system, and as she feels Misha's hand on her ass, knows what that wetness is, she comes hard - toes curled, legs trembling. "Sir, please...how much are you taking?" The soft slur of words, the constant grind of hips against the bed mingle with the scent of her own blood and a low growl escapes her throat. "Taste. Please. Want to taste, Sir."

That's enough there to make Misha wish he were already inside Alyssa, fucking her. God, but they're a perfect pair. He moves the Venus Butterfly off her clit, intending to do just that--he can certainly play with her blood and fuck her at the same time. "A little less than a cup," he tells her--after all, the cups won't fully fill. "This is going to hurt," he tells her next, and pulls the next cup off with a pop, dipping his fingers in and offering them to her to taste as he straddles her hips, his cock brushing over her ass.

Dark eyes fly open wide, mouth going wide, as the tortuous implement at her clit leaves it's position and the pressure, even as it leaves, takes the very breath from her lungs. "Oh god, hurts," comes the squeaked words as Alyssa does her damn best to close her legs against the horrible pain between her legs. Tears are already brimming when Misha's words hit her ears and she doesn't know what could hurt worse - then she finds out. The scream that was choked off before echoes in the room as Alyssa swears the cut under the cup is turned inside out. "AHGOD! MASTER!" Slender hips buck as much as the restraints and Misha's weight will allow and the tears begin to flow freely.

Yeah, that probably sucked for her--ha, literally! But Misha has ways to make up for it. Brushing his blood-moistened fingers over her lips, he sprinkles blood over her back, then draws on her with it, making little swirls and hearts--and the word 'SLUT'. "Taste yourself," he tells her, as he sets down the cup to position himself at her entrance, slowly sliding his cock into her.

Shivering as a trickle of blood inks its way down her side toward her stomach, Alyssa's cries turn to moans as Misha's finger begins to trace over the overly sensitive flesh of her back, playing in the tiny pools of blood that litter her flesh. When she realizes the position of his fingers as they touch her lips, Alyssa takes them in, sucking on the length of them with the force and power of the need that fills her, only relenting in her actions long enough to groan out as she feels Misha push into her already dripping pussy.

It's going to be a little challenging, fucking her with the remaining cups attached. Fortunately for Misha, those are coming off soon. He shifts a little, pulling out and then thrusting in even deeper, dipping his head to suck at some of the blood on her shoulder, pressing a little against her now--and this is where things get messy, as the blood sticks to his skin as well, coating his stomach. He allows her to lick his fingers for the moment, enjoying this. "Ready for the next one? Shall I be nice? Or cruel?" Not that she'll really have a say in it of course. He just wants to hear her reaction.

Thrusting her ass upward as much as humanly possible without breaking something, Alyssa wants him in deep - that is until he thrusts and and her swollen and tender clit gains a hard push against it. "Unh! Sir, my clit! Ahhgod, it hurts!" The words are muffled around his fingers but the more Misha moves, the more ache comes and the more Alyssa tries to struggle until the light press of his weight against the cups reminds her there is more to come. At his words, Alyssa slips her mouth from his fingers; Alyssa knows what most would say, then most aren't an owned slave. "It's not for this slave to decide, Sir," she groans out, "but this slave would love more pain."

Misha raises an eyebrow at her, impressed and pleased by her attitude. "Slut," he says affectionately, tapping one of the two remaining cups, slowly fucking her. He leans down and bites down hard on her shoulder. "My slut," he adds. Then he pulls off the cup with a harsh pop.

"Mmmyes, your slut, Master. All yours." Alyssa tries to push up or back, anything to help Misha bury his cock deeper into her pussy, but the bindings hold her tight and just as her mouth opens to plead for her release, the bite comes and she feels teeth sink in to tender flesh. "Unnnaaah!" Head up, eyes clenched tight in pain, her scream fills the room then cuts off hard as the cup pops free from her cut skin. The scream gives way to a choked hiccup of pain as her petite frame trembles under Misha's weight. "Master," she cries, "please! You're hurting me!" And Alyssa couldn't be more wet over that very idea.

"Fuck yes I am," Misha growls, growing more and more excited, the more blood he sees. He tears off the last cup, heedless of how much that's gotta hurt, and splashes the hot blood over them both, tossing the cup on the plastic sheets, letting it spill out. He then thrusts in, hard and deep, licking the blood from Alyssa's back, smearing it everywhere as his thumbs purposefully seek out the cuts and dig into them. It's his best fantasy come to life--sex and blood and pain. "Come, bitch," he tells her, fucking her hard. He slaps her back, feels the blood spattering his face.

Time seems to come to a screeching halt as the last cup leaves her skin and her entire body freezes before the scream is torn from her throat. "Ahhhhgodplease! NO!" Alyssa thrashes as much as possible, feeling her own blood coat her skin, the scent of it filling her, as Misha plays in the sticky mess he's drawn from her. All her life she's waited for this; Misha won't stop and she knows it, he's not afraid of hurting her, in fact he strives for it, and Alyssa knows this is what she needs. Her own juices coat his cock and her thighs as he pumps into her and for a split moment, she'd love to see what they look like - animalistic and savage, coated in blood - then the hit comes. "Aghgodyesss!" Muscles clamp down around his cock and her tender clit pulses as her scream fills the room.

He can't hold out any longer. Pounding into her, his fingernails still digging into the cuts, Misha starts to come, hard, riding wave after wave of pleasure, shooting his seed deep inside her. He pumps her slowly through the aftershocks, loathe to stop even when he starts to feel the post-climatic super-sensitivity. He licks a spot clean on her shoulder and nibbles at the bruise he finds there, tenderly. "That was . . . awesome." Every fucking last thing he'd dreamed of. He kisses the side of her neck, her jaw, making his way to her lips to kiss her deeply.

The tears come in waves as her petite frame trembles under him, his cock filling her with come, and screams give way to pain-filled sobs as she feels the cuts from early opened by the press of nails into her flesh. But, even through it all - through the pain and ache and fear - her pussy drips come and her clit throbs and it's only as Misha's movements slow does her head drop to the bed in exhaustion. Even with her hair up, she can feel the tacky feel of her blood in it, the splatters that have reached her face are drying and feel strange, but her Master's mouth on her still pulls out a raspy moan of need. "Master," comes the barely whispered reply as Alyssa cranes her head enough to find his mouth with her own.

He kisses her eagerly, letting her taste her own blood on his lips, on his tongue. He pulls out of her, and works to release her binds, so that she can turn over and stretch out her limbs. Yep, the bed's a mess, but nothing that can't be cleaned up. He reaches over to the night table for some orange juice and a multi-vitamin for Alyssa. "Drink--and take." He kisses her on her breasts as she complies. "I'm going to have you on vitamins and iron supplements if we continue to play this way--I know you'll need time to heal up." He traces a line from one of her bite marks on her throat to her lips.

As the cuffs come free, Alyssa licks at her lips, tasting her own blood mixed with Misha's flavor and she works her fingers, knowing she'll be aching later from pulling at the restraints. Rolling over onto her back brings a new wave of pain as the bruised, cut flesh suddenly rakes across the covering protecting the bed. "It hurts still," she says, voice course as she wipes a blood-splattered hand across a cheek. The water feels like an oasis on her parched throat but the pill goes down easily enough. "Trying to exsanguinate me, aren't you?" she asks with a teasing smile as she feels Misha's come wet her pussy. Looking around, Alyssa's eyes widen - they look like the results of a slasher film. "This all came from me?"

Misha smiles a little, looking at the mess they've made. "It's not as much as you might think--less than a cup. When you donate blood, they take a pint." He kisses Alyssa's hair, petting her tenderly. "Not that I won't baby you for a few days while you recover, of course." He massages her arms a little, spooning up behind her. They'll eventually need to shower and clean up this place. But for the moment, he just wants to revel in their nakedness and come and blood and everything else.

She shifts enough so that Misha seems to fit in against her like their bodies were made to be as such, her mind working a million miles an hour, her body half between the elation of the scene and the slow slide of coming down. "Would you ever take more than what you did?" she asks, voice still raspy from her earlier screams. The feel of his hands on her calms her in a way that she doesn't understand, and doesn't really care to, she only knows it does. "I don't mind being babied by you," she whispers, nuzzling against him, her thoughts coming to a screeching halt. "Sir, you're happy with me as your slave, right?"

"I'm very happy with you as my slave," Misha says immediately, kissing Alyssa deeply and passionately, because she's everything he's been hoping for in a slave. "And no, I probably wouldn't take more. I don't really need more--this gives me what I want. And I don't want you too weakened."

The kiss has Alyssa purring, twining her legs between Misha's in an attempt to get as close as humanly possible, twisting in his hold to deepen it. "I just never thought I'd actually end up here, being this to someone I trust enough to do, well...all this with." A slow grin comes to face at the comment. "Want me strong enough to fight back, huh?" she asks, her hand coming up to cup Misha's face. "You're the first man I've felt come inside me without a condom," she says softly. "My owner in every way."

Misha's surprised to hear that, but pleased. "Yes, your owner," he reaffirms, running a hand over Alyssa's breasts, the only things really not given proper attention this evening. "About that no condom thing. I remember you telling me it isn't a problem. Care to elaborate on that?" He assumed when she said that, that it meant she was using an IUD or somesuch thing.

Arching up into the touch to her breasts, Alyssa nods, her dark eyes still slightly glazed from the adrenaline still coursing through her, her body and mind still riding the waves of pain from the throbbing marks on her back. A slow grin comes to her face as she nods once more. "Maybe some day, when I'm older, but my life, and how I want to live it, doesn't have room for kids." Alyssa grins, "I could go into the details but just know that I can't get pregnant short of a miracle."

So maybe it's a surgical implant, or some kind of a reversible . . . whatever the female version of vasectomy is. But it answers two questions for Misha--one, that she won't get pregnant now. And two, that she still can, someday. "Okay. That's good. I don't want any right now either. But . . ." He shrugs. "I like kids. Someday, I do hope to have some." And that's just the full simple truth. And yes, his mind can go there with her, picturing her being the mother. Which might be a little scary, particularly given their current settings. But somehow it isn't.

Alyssa's voice is soft as she speaks, the throb of her back pulling her down into a half-dazed state. "I'd like kids someday, but there's too much I want now. Just found you and kind of want to be selfish for awhile." It seems like it's taken her forever to find someone that she trusts that wants to do the same things she wants to do and she's not letting that go yet. With them looking like the outcome from a murder scene, Alyssa grins at the topic between them but that grin fades as she realizes something. "Ma...uhm, Sir, my back, it's gonna have to be cleaned, isn't it?" Eyes study Misha for a moment, wondering if he caught the near slip.

That's more than twice now that he's caught her catching herself over calling him 'Master.' "Alyssa," he says in a low voice--he'll get to the cleaning in a moment. And he agrees with her about the kids thing. But this he wants to address right now. "What am I to you?"

Damn! Alyssa's eyes lower. "You're my owner," she replies, voice soft, before finally lifting doe-shaped eyes to Misha. "I'm sorry, I've tried to catch myself. I know you told me I'd have to earn calling you that, Sir. Please forgive me, it...it won't happen again." Alyssa knows that's a lie as sure as she knows her own name. "I'll do my best."

Misha smiles, soft and warm. He'd forgotten he'd said that, but obviously she has not. "You've earned it. As of tonight, you've officially earned it." He can't imagine greater trust and service, which is exactly what the Master and slave relationship is all about.

Eyes lift and Alyssa's chin drops as she hears Misha's words. "You mean that, Si...Master?" Alyssa pauses, her mind working over the sound of the word as it finally leaves her lips and she smiles. It seems right; the first man to have her without a condom, the first to truly own her. "It's good to finally say it." Leaning in, Alyssa kisses him, slow and sensual. "My Master," she purrs out.

"Your Master," Misha confirms, and it does sound right, and feels right. "Mine," he whispers into her hair, kissing it, then kissing her.

He goes finally to clean them both up.

Alyssa Milano and Misha Collins - Playing with steel

Sun, 13 Sep 2009 06:05:39 GMT

Comments welcomed, screened and loved]

[Backdated to May 3 - follows this ]

Warnings: Cages, orgasm denial, come facial, light humiliation

Saturday was spent shopping for today's event. It's been a great weekend so far, though with all the shopping yesterday they didn't have much time for play. But there is now a full bondage cage in Misha's bedroom, where he can keep Alyssa locked up for hours on end, right where he can read through scripts and keep an eye on her.

Alyssa has stared at the cage through the night, waking off and on to sneak a glimpse of the black metal. It actually looks very upscale, if one can call a human cage upscale. The rich colors of the red and black throw pillows and padded mat are in vast contrast to the rest of the bedroom, and it's that distinct difference that draws her - knowing her life is changing. It took forever, it seemed, to find the right one, but the one they chose is perfect, the image of it in her mind as she moves up alongside Misha. "Sir?"

Misha is trailing his hand along Alyssa's back, and he can feel her attention focusing on the cage, feel the tensing of muscles in her lower back as she speaks. "Yes?" His voice is smooth, casual. Inside, he is anything but; in fact, he's woken with quite a hard on this morning.

She doesn't know if the touch is meant to relax her, but it's actually doing quite the opposite and between his touch and the sight of the cage, she can already feel the wetness between her legs. When she finally speaks, her voice still has the soft rasp of sleep in it. "Sir, 'm gonna be spendin' the day in it?" Alyssa already knows the answer; it's one of the reasons she's so wet.

Included in the anticipation in her voice, Misha detects a possible note of fear. And it's that note which makes his cock twitch, which brings a smile to his face. "That's correct, pet. It's time for you to learn some discipline. You're going to stay in there while I work. And then, if you're a good girl, I'll reward you." He can think of a way or two to do that. The fact that there's a cushion on top of the cage means that there are all sorts of possibilities; it serves as a bondage table as well as cage.

Alyssa curls in against him for a moment, her heart pounding like mad in her chest. She's never spent time in a cage and the idea is as unsettling as it is erotic and enticing. There's something in the way he calls her 'pet' - the smile on his face - that brings a light shiver. "Discipline, Sir? How so?" Wiggling slightly, she finally looks up and nods, "I'll try, yes Sir." The idea of what he might consider a reward for being good also brings the thoughts of what will happen if she's not good.

"Yes. The discipline of waiting on my whims. Because you'll stay in there until I'm ready to use you--in whatever fashion I choose." Misha's hand moves around to Alyssa's front, rubbing her stomach. The squirming is cute, he thinks.

Thighs press tight together as a cross between Misha's words and the touch to her belly brings on a new burst of wetness that joins a soft little moan that seems to float up from nowhere. "Oh, I see Sir," she whispers out. Suddenly, a new sensation joins all the others inside her and she stills against him, the pressure on her stomach making it worse. "Sir, need to use the restroom now. Please."

Misha tilts his head at her, as if considering. It's for show only; he's not ready for the consequences of denying her request. Not yet. Someday he knows he will go there, though. "Go ahead. But crawl." He smiles cruelly, caressing her thighs. "And then when you get back, and before you go in the cage, I have a task for you." One he's pretty sure she'll enjoy.

"Crawl?" Alyssa's eyes darken at the thought of having to crawl to do something so basic as relieve herself but with the urge growing, only made stronger by the tightening of her muscles as he strokes her skin, she's more than happy to oblige. "Yes Sir, thank you." Sliding from the bed, she sinks to her knees and begins to crawl. "I'll hurry." The sway of her hips is tighter than normal as she concentrates on simply getting into the restroom and doing her morning routine - all the while, ignoring the large cage.

Oh that's fun, watching her crawl over to the bathroom, knowing her full bladder is probably making her particularly uncomfortable. Misha begins lazily stroking himself, listening to her, allowing his mind to wander down paths he hasn't really allowed it to roam before. Everything just feels so right.

The moment she's in the bathroom, Alyssa is up and on the toilet, a light sigh leaves her but all thoughts are still on the man in the bed. She's never had a weekend like this, and the idea of making it permanent sends a shiver racing through her. She makes quick work of her morning routine then, pulling her hair into a ponytail, sinks down and crawls back toward Misha, hips swaying, her stride slower and more sure than before. "Am ready, Sir."

Misha nods at Alyssa, hands resting at his sides, sitting on the edge of the bed. While she was doing her thing in the bathroom, he was alternating between relaxing and stroking himself slowly, just to keep that edge up. He knows he needs to shave and brush his teeth and all that--but first things first. He wants to take care of himself. And then Alyssa gets to start her entrapment. "Kneel in front of me, here, on the floor." He widens his legs a little, cock jutting out, and it's pretty clear where this is headed.

Pausing as she sees Misha's position on the bed, his hard cock, Alyssa can't help but wonder if this will be a morning routine for her - a routine she wouldn't be opposed to in the slightest. Moving back to hands and knees, she crawls toward him, positioning herself between his legs then settling back on her heels before looking up to meet his eyes, a sly little grin at the corners of her lips. "Does Sir need help with something? Anything in particular?" Dark eyes dart toward his cock then meet his face once more.

Misha debates answering, but instead he decides to grab Alyssa by a fistful of hair at the back of her scalp, pushing her face against his crotch. "Yes," he says in a low voice, tightening his fist, pulling at her hair even while keeping her in place. "Suck it."

"Agh!" Arms flail out as Misha pulls her forward and her face is pressed hard against his crotch, his cock pressing against her cheek. As badly as the pain at her scalp is, it's that same pain coursing through her that brings on the hard pulses from her pussy. "Nghh! Yes Sir!" Moving her head as much as possible, Alyssa begins to work against his cock, pulling the head into her mouth.

As her mouth closes around him, Misha lets up a bit on the hold, allowing her the freedom of movement, enjoying the wet slide of her tongue. He sighs in pleasure, petting her cheek, a reward for her good behavior. God it's nice to be able to do exactly as he wants to do.

Whimpering softly against the warm flesh, Alyssa glances up at the ease of the grip in her hair but her motions never stop. Misha's pleased with her at the moment and Alyssa relaxes at the touch. Muscles of her pussy clench and release, wetting her even more as her eyes slip closed and teeth rake over the length of his cock, a littler harder than she'd planned, but her tongue quickly follows in the path.

Misha hisses when he feels her teeth scraping him, and he pulls her off, gripping her chin in his hand hard, glaring at her. "No teeth. I'm not a masochist." He lets her go so that she can continue. That's her only warning. If she does it again, he's going to punish her.

Dark eyes widen as he pulls her off and she whimpers at the tight grip. "Sorry Sir, didn't mean to, honest." Well, this could be interesting - Alyssa spent ages learning to use just the right amount of teeth with Duke. Old habits die hard and, as she sinks back down onto his cock, she consciously makes the effort to keep her teeth back from his flesh.

Eventually Misha knows that Alyssa will learn him enough to know that an extremely gentle brush of teeth is all right now and again--but no more. And until then, it's fine for him just to keep things simple. He sighs, nodding as she resumes things, petting her hair to let her know he's not angry, just firm with her. "Good girl." It feels heavenly.

Alyssa knows there's definitely going to be a 'getting used to'' period between her and Misha - mostly on her part as she finds the things the man loves. She also knows she's as excited for the mistakes as she is the successes, since both are learning experiences in the new life she's entering. Getting lost in the act once again and, as Alyssa purrs around him at the praise in how she's doing, her hand snakes to between her own legs as teeth slide over the shaft of his cock.

So she wants a punishment, it appears. "Stop." Misha commands. "Hold up both your hands for me." If she can't ask and thinks she can do as she pleases, she's got another thing coming. He looks at her sternly. "You don't have to go in the cage today, you know. I could just leave." See what she thinks of that.

It's more the sound of his voice than the word that causes Alyssa to yank back and look upward, unsure for a moment what she's done that brought that sound out of him again. She holds up her hands as he instructs and it hits her - the wetness of her fingers. "Don't have to go, but..." her thoughts swirl as she stares at him. "You'd leave? Please Sir, 'm sorry. I promise it won't..." Dark eyes lower as her shoulders slump - that's not a promise she can make. "I'll try not to let it happen again.

It's more the teeth than the fact she tried to touch herself without permission that is pissing him off. That part he can at least understand. "I can help with that," Misha says in a level tone, reaching over to his toy bag to pull out a short length of rope. He ties her wrists together firmly, leaving a length of rope which he then tied around her shoulders, leaving her unable to lower her hands, held like a prayer at breast level. "But stop it with the teeth." He does nothing else. To smack her would not be a punishment, not to her. It'll be more the lack of play with her that he'll use for punishment.

Alyssa watches quietly as Misha pulls the rope out, but her eyes never leave his face as he begins to bind her hands. It's an odd weight on her neck, but she realizes if she keeps her hands held just a bit up, the pressure on the back of her neck isn't so bad. "Thank you for your help, Sir," she murmurs, wiggling her fingers before linking them together between her breasts. "No more teeth, Sir, promise. Duke liked teeth, Sir, so I learned to use teeth with him." Alyssa leans inward, wide dark eyes still on her sir. "Please, don't leave. Can I continue, Sir?"

Misha nods, but he keeps his face serious. "No. You will kneel there, and I am going to jerk off and come on your face. Then you'll go into the cage. You'll get to smell of me all day." He appreciates her candor, and really, while not letting her blow him is a punishment, he considers her humiliation a little reward for her honesty. He has a feeling that deep down, she'll get off on it too.

Alyssa's chin drops slightly and a small little gasp leaves her. "Sir's gonna...and then," her eyes flit toward the cage then dart back to Misha's face, "on my face?" She does her best to keep her face straight, but there's no way to hide the slight rock of her hips. "I've never worn..." The very idea of it is more than just a little humiliating, the pleasure brought on by that hampered, however, by the knowledge that she's let Misha down.

"Yeah, somehow I didn't think your last Dom did anything like that. But your mine now. And you'll learn what I require, and what I like." And he seems to like humiliation more and more as time goes by. Particularly hers. He reaches out and rubs his thumb across Alyssa's bottom lip. "Lick your lips for me, sweetie." He starts stroking himself, enjoying the sight of her there kneeling before him with her wrists tied, smelling of her wetness already. There's more than one good way to start the day.

"Yes Sir. I want to learn how to please you...what it takes. How to totally be yours." Her eyes dart downward as his cock pulses and the touch to her lip draws out a soft, needy moan of pleasure. She knows Misha understands what humiliation does to her, that doesn't mean it doesn't bring on the shame that it should. Licking her lips, her eyes stay on his face as he begins to stroke himself. "May I close my eyes?" she asks softly.

That earns a smirk. "Yes--I hear it stings. But you can keep your eyes open up until then. I'll warn you." Misha begins stroking faster, seeing the shame in her face, the slight blush to her cheek. "How does this make you feel?" He wants to hear her, know how uncomfortable she is.

With everything in her she wants to duck her head, but Misha's made it clear what's about to happen and she knows that lowering her face would only make things worse. "Thank you, Sir." Alyssa's not sure which is worse - the fact that it's not her pleasuring Misha to bring him to climax or that she'll wear his come while in the cage - but both affect her drastically. "Shamed, Sir. Humiliated that it's not my mouth bringing you off," her voice lowers as do her eyes, "and that I'll smell of your come all day, Sir." It also makes her wet as hell.

"Next time you'll respect my wishes so that you can service me," Misha says in a low voice that has gone a little shaky as he continues to stroke himself, hard and fast now. He's getting close. "Or maybe you'll find you like this even better." He can't talk any more. Humiliated, shamed . . . he imagines her on the verge of tears, and the thought almost sends him over the edge. "Close your eyes now," he commands as he feels his balls tighten up, feels himself ready to explode.

"I'm so sorry, Sir," she whispers out, "so sorry, didn't mean to disobey, honest I didn't." Her fingers flex, splaying open then close tight as emotions flood in on her. There's a part of her that can't help but be aroused by the fact that Misha's using her, taking control of her just as she's wanted for so long; the other part, however, wants to hide as the humiliation in her grows with every word he speaks. At the signal to close her eyes, dark lashes fall closed, pushing the tears over that hover there - silvery lines wetting her cheeks. "Yes," she chokes out.

There's trust being developed here, Misha thinks, just before he lets out a cry, rubbing the head of his cock hard until thick droplets of come spurt out, decorating Alyssa's cheeks and throat as the orgasm tears through him. Trust that he won't harm her even if she disobeys, that he'll be firm but never damaging, even in as small a thing as getting come in her eyes. He pumps himself a few more times, coaxing out more, the last bit covering his hand. Which he holds out to her, touching her lips. "Clean me off." That's another reward.

Alyssa knows, even as she kneels there before him, that she disobeyed him and that she deserves to be punished; it shocks her, however, that he didn't yell or scream, he simply did what he should. She jerks as the first heated jet of come streams across her nose and cheek, joining the tears that already reside there. In all her life, she's never felt so used, humiliated, owned and ashamed as she does at this moment. She's also never felt so alive. It's not about her anymore, and soon, she'll grow to learn that. At the touch of his hand, the sound of his words, Alyssa's eyes open and, quietly, she begins to clean her Sir's hand, tongue gently and completely wiping away the traces of come.

Misha quietly watches her, nodding once at both her humility now and her obedience. She's going to be a very good slave, with proper training. And isn't training half the fun? "Good girl," he praises her once all traces are gone. He reaches over to the bedstand for some bottled water, which he offers to her. He'll make sure she gets both water and food throughout the day. "Have a little drink." Then it'll be time to put her in the cage.

Her heart's beating like mad, knowing his eyes are on her as his come drips from her skin, feeling the heated sticky stuff as it quickly cools and begins to adhere to her flesh in spots. "Thank you, Sir," she whispers out at the praise, trying to let the compliment settle in more, deeper, than the humiliation does. In the cage, at least, she'll be able to relax down on her side, even if she's still wearing his come. Sipping from the bottle, her eyes finally turn upward. "Thank you, Sir...and thank you for helping me keep my hands away from my pussy."

"You're welcome," Misha says with a little smile. "And we'll continue doing that until your hands learn to stay away unless you've been given permission." Which he has no intention of giving right now. He wants her wet and aching all day. "Stand up for a moment, Alyssa, and stretch your legs." Because that'll be the last stretch they get for a few hours.

"Yes Sir." She tries to wiggle her hands free but the freedom just isn't there - and yes, that affects her just as much as everything else is - Misha controls her in that moment in every way. "Oh, thank you." It takes a bit of doing, as well as leaning on Misha's legs, but soon she's standing, her mind still very much on the cage and the drops of come that speckle her skin. "Feels good Sir," she says, stretching as much as the ropes allow then bending over at the waist.

Misha allows her a couple moments to stretch and walk around, staying nearby to steady her in case she needs it, her hands tied as they are. Then he decides it's time to move things forward. "All right, come on over to the cage. Kneel down--you can scoot yourself in there backwards if that's easier." He's sure it will be a little tricky without her hands. Feeding her breakfast should be interesting as well. He wonders how quickly she'll notice the water dish in the cage as well--a puppy water dish.

It feels good to stretch and move around, having not done so since she woke, but the moment Misha speaks, Alyssa freezes, her eyes going wide as they dart to the item she's spent the night waking to look at. She trusts Misha, but the fear and humiliation of being caged like an animal has her heart racing. Alyssa's not big by any stretch of the imagination; she'll be able to move around a bit and sit comfortable in the cage but standing or stretching out isn't going to happen. "Sir, I,uhm ..." she stammers out, not finding a reason to postpone the cage, "yes, Sir." Going to him and kneeling down, she scoots inside the door on her knees and belly, eyes immediately catching the brightly colored puppy bowl. "Sir? What's the bowl for? I don't drink out of a," and realization hits, "water bowl?" She nearly comes right there.

"You do while you're in the cage," Misha tells her blithely. He sees the expression on her face, and he thinks it's a good one, but it can be difficult to tell sometimes. "Tell me how that makes you feel. Be honest with me." Half his enjoyment is hearing how what he's doing to her makes her uncomfortable, makes her humiliated and turned on at the same time. It's a lovely sort of symbolic thing.

Dark eyes lift up to look through the bars of the cage, "I'll always be honest with you, Sir. Always." Alyssa's waited long enough for this, she's not going to chance ruining it with lies. Her eyes fall back to the bowl - how can something that brings such humiliation bring on such pleasure as well? "Humiliated. Makes me feel like an animal, Sir. Makes me feel...owned, controlled," her voice falls to a whisper as her eyes close, "and wet, Sir. So, so wet. Drinking from a dog bowl, your come drying on my face." Alyssa looks up, dark eyes welling up with tears, "Need to come. Please, Sir?"

After a confession like that he's going to need to jerk off again. But for now, they'll both get to live with denied pleasure. "Not right now, girl. Later I'll let you come more than once, if you're good." He taps the top of the cage. "Now in you go. I have some things to take care of." Breakfast, for starters.

Alyssa moves on inside the cage, eyes watchful of the bowl as if the thing will jump out and bite her at some point. While the pillows definitely make it more comfortable, it doesn't detract from the fact that it is a cage. "Yes Sir, I'll be good." She just hopes she can actually live up to those words. "Breakfast sounds good," she says, belly rumbling at the empty feeling inside, "what are we having?" Moving up and onto the pillows, she situates herself as best she can then watches as Misha lowers the door of the cage.

"I think we'll be having waffles. I'm pretty sure I can handle a waffle iron," Misha says good-naturedly as he locks the cage. That done, he leaves her for a moment for a much needed morning piss and shave. Leave her to her humiliation and her thoughts for a bit. "Be aware of what you're thinking while you're in there, Alyssa. I may have you write down your thoughts later." Both for her training as a slave . . . and for his enjoyment as Master.

She knows it's going to happen, but as the latch hooks closed, Alyssa jumps, the sound of metal-on-metal in the room sinking down to her core. Caged. Tied and caged and... Her head snaps up as she hears his words and realizes he's moving toward the bathroom. Part of her wants to struggle at the ropes that have her tied - free herself in some way - but she's promised she'll at least try to be good, and the idea of coming later drills that thought into her mind. Her eyes go to the dog bowl once more then close. "A dog bowl," she whispers, tears on the rims of her eyes, "I'm drinking from a dog bowl." She never realized humiliation could feel so good.

While shaving, Misha allows himself a moment of reflection, allows a doubt or two to creep forward to where he can deal with them, push them away. Everything seems to be going well so far. He's been tough on her, but he knows, feels it's what she needs. He's not a monster. His instincts are working just fine, thank you. And he's certainly enjoying himself. Rinsing off his face, he takes a moment to peek into the bedroom at Alyssa in the cage, quietly watching her.

For just a moment, she wonders what must be wrong with her that she can be this aroused by being humiliated. She wants this though and Misha is willing to give it, take her in and care for her as his slave. With a glance to the bathroom, she decides to try for a drink. She can't close her eyes - has to judge the distance to the bowl - so, as she spreads her knees just as wide as the cage will allow, she leans forward. Alyssa knows if she tips the bowl up, she'll spill it in the cage and the water isn't full enough to sip from so, as she dips her head down, a soft pink tongue flicks out to lap at the water - that is until she sees the white swirls in the bowl. It's coming off in the water?

When Misha sees Alyssa staring at something in the water bowl, he just has to walk over to see what it is--a bug? Ew, hopefully not. And when he realizes what it is . . . he bites his lip, but he can't help but look amused. It was something he suspected might happen. "It's all right." And he'll change it in a few--it won't hurt her for now. He reaches in to give Alyssa a little pet on the head, then heads to the kitchen to make breakfast.

Alyssa looks up as Misha nears, embarrassed that he's seen her attempting to learn to drink from a puppy bowl. She knows at some point during the time in the cage he's bound to see her, but she'd been hoping to learn before he did. Nuzzling into his touch, she watches him head for the kitchen. "I'd like milk, please," she calls after then turns back to the water. Now, not only does she smell of him, she'll taste him every time she takes a drink. Sitting back against the cage, she waits for her Sir to return.

Misha takes his time in the kitchen preparing waffles with syrup, pouring some milk for Alyssa and finding some orange juice for himself. He's in a good mood, humming to himself--hey, it's been ages since he actually cooked for someone, since he actually had someone over on Sunday morning that he could cook for. It's a nice feeling. Now how weird would it be if Milo were here in the mix? Would they tolerate each other? Or would it just be too fucking weird?

Once breakfast is done, he heads back into the bedroom, setting the plates on the floor by the cage and sitting down to where he'll be able to feed Alyssa through the bars. She's not coming out until later, until he's certain she's had a good taste of what it feels like to be in there an extended amount of time. He holds the glass of milk for her. "Have a drink of this first." Again, this should be interesting.

Confusion takes over, the emotion evident on her face as she watches Misha return to the bedroom and place the plates on the floor. "Sir, I...but, don't I get to..." Her eyes go to the door then back to Misha, "Don't I get to come out to eat?" Her question's more than answered as he holds the glass out for her - through the bars - to take a drink. "Yes Sir," she says quietly then leans forward to attempt to take a drink; it's at least better than the bowl.

"Not today, because it's your first day. Other times . . . depending on your behavior," Misha answers smoothly, taking a sip next of his orange juice and then a few bites to eat. He gets a forkful of waffle dripping with syrup for Alyssa to taste.

"How much will I stay in here? I know it'll be my place to sleep sometimes." As she watches him cut into the waffle and begin to eat, Alyssa says a silent little thanks that at least he isn't feeding her from a dog dish. Stomach growling, she leans into the offered bite as much as she can - that doesn't stop the syrup from dripping down to trail a line down her right breast.

"You won't be in there all the time, but I will have some longer stints just so that you can experience that and know what it feels like. I'll pretty much let instinct guide me at first, and then we'll see how things go." He hasn't really decided how Alyssa's typical day will go once this goes full time. Really he needs to see more of her needs and her limits before he can make those kinds of determinations. He feeds her more, fascinated by watching her eat.

"These 're good, Sir. Thank you." As Misha feeds her the waffle, two things come to her mind; the man is a very good cook of waffles and it's a good thing her hands are tied because as wet as she is at the moment, there's no way she'd be able to leave herself alone. There's something very primal about being fed by the man that will be her Master and she loves every moment of it. "Longer stints, Sir? Like a couple days?" Captive by her Sir. That thought draws a light whimper as she takes the next bite.

"Yes," Misha answers immediately. That she asks tells him that she wants it. He continues eating and feeding her, alternating things and smiling at her compliment. He doesn't do a whole lot in the kitchen (the barbeque is another story), but he's proud that he can at least make a few things. "I'm going to be reading over my scripts for a while after this. And I'll be rehearsing. You are to be quiet during those times unless you need something." He gives her a look. "And don't forget to ask for permission for things."

"Be quiet, I understand Sir." Doing that will be another story since quiet has never been her strong point. Even on the set of Charmed, it was often joked that she needed to be put in solitary just to be kept silent for a moment. She pulls back from the next offered bite. "I'm full, Sir. That was good, thank you." Alyssa's eyes go to the bowl, then back to Misha. "Sir, the water's in here, do I still need to ask permission for it?" In the back of her mind, she wonders what she looks like - Misha's come drying on her face and cheeks, chin and chest speckled with drops of syrup.

"Good girl," Misha says with a nod, and then takes the plates to the kitchen to rinse and put in the dishwasher. He spends some time then doing his usual morning rituals--yoga, for one. He debates doing it in the bedroom where Alyssa can watch, but it's a little too soon in their relationship for him to feel comfortable about that. Yoga and meditation is solely his time, and he can't really relax if he knows he's the show. So he does that in the living room, knowing that being alone in his bedroom will in itself be an interesting challenge for Alyssa. Once that's done, he returns to the bedroom, makes the bed, and sits on it to begin reading over his script.

Yes she's sticky, but the quiet in the bedroom does her good. Alyssa has no idea how many hours she'll spend in her new mini-home, but centering herself seems more than a good idea. Getting into as comfortable position as she can, her eyes close and she lets herself calm - which is a hard thing to accomplish when your nose is filled with the scents of the morning. When she becomes his full-time, she'll make sure to ask about things like her running and mediation, but for now the cage actually makes a decent place. Stretching as much as she can, Alyssa remains quiet - as told - as Misha enters the room, makes his bed then crawls atop it. She does her damn best to stay quiet, and succeeds for the most part, for awhile anyway. "Sir, can I get a washcloth? Uhm , 'm sort of sticky from the syrup and my water still has come in it." Yeah, she won't go into just what that actually does to her.

Misha narrows his eyes at her, considering. On the one hand, she's interrupting him, and complaining about conditions that he's set for her. That should be worth a punishment. But on the other hand, he did ask her to ask him when she needs things. So he sits, letting the silence grow, letting her feel it. "You don't like my come?" Yes, he'll torment her a little first, he decides.

As his eyes settle on her, Alyssa can almost feel the intensity bore into her as she shakes her head and sinks back against the cage. "No, I mean yes Sir, I do. I waited until you paused though and I'm sticky and...and..." her voice drops to barely a whisper, "wet, Sir." There's no way to gain enough stimulation to do anything - she's tried - and the smell of him on her is only serving to drive the need deeper. "Please Sir?"

He stares at her a moment more, and then his lips turn up in a little smirk. Because yeah, come in the water and being sticky would drive him crazy too. And she's been good to endure it this long. "Very well. Wet,hmm ?" He likes hearing that. He goes to the cage and opens it up, taking out the water bowl to go rinse it out and fill it with fresh water. When he returns, he brings also a dampened washcloth, and once he's set down the bowl, he sets to gently washing her off of both come and syrup.

Then he slides a finger down into her pussy and starts playing with her. And hell yes, she's wet. "Nice."

She doesn't flinch, barely breathes, as Misha watches her but the heat in her face and chest grows as she hears him pick up on the one whispered comment. When he opens the cage to retrieve the water bowl, Alyssa starts to move toward the door then stops - she's not been told she can come out - and sinks back on her knees, waiting.

"Thank you, Sir," she says with a soft smile as he returns with the bowl and a cloth then begins to clean her, "that feels good." She leans in as the cloth slides along her skin, relaxing into it. The finger that finds her, however, stirs up the heat and brings a needy moan as she grinds down against him, legs spreading wide. "Yess, yes please! Oh Sir! More...need more."

She's foolish if she thinks that Misha is going to let her come this early in the day, he thinks, grinning as he fondles her just a little bit more, then withdraws his fingers. "Later," he promises, licking his finger and closing the cage once more. "I have work to do right now." And with that, he returns to the bed to continue reading his script, smirking, perfectly aware of her torment.

It's there, her body trembling - almost enough that she could slip over on her own - and then he pulls away. Blinking her eyes open, her mouth opens in shock as a moan of distress escapes her. "Sir, no! Now, please?" Her hips continue to grind against nothing and tears come to her eyes as the edge slowly pulls back from her grasp. "Sir, please touch me again. Was so close...so close, please."

"I gave you neither orders nor permission to beg," Misha calls from across the room, nose buried in his papers. "You're not coming, so be quiet. Or I'll gag you." It would be so easy to give in to her demands; he can hear how close she is, how much all of this is exciting her. But so much of the fun is the denial, the hovering at the edge of release for as extended a time as possible. No way he's fucking that up. She'll get her release and more when he's fucking ready to give it to her.

Alyssa tries to will the sensations back to the forefront, to where a waft of breeze could bring her off, but it's pointless and she lifts her head to look up at Misha who seems so calm about it all. It's his reaction to her, or rather lack thereof, that's driving her utterly insane with need. Duke could have never let her go like this and the fact that Misha is lets her know that she's exactly where she's supposed to be. "Yes Sir," she whispers out past a caught breath, "I'm sorry, Sir." Drawing her legs together then, giving a soft whimper at the wetness of her skin, shifting to her ass, she goes quiet as her eyes focus on Misha.

Good girl, Misha thinks, but he doesn't say it out loud--it's not appropriate for him to praise her just yet. He's supposedly ignoring her, and that's as it should be. But to say that his attention is solely focused on the words on the page in front of him right now would be a lie. He doesn't know how long he'll last, in fact, knowing that she's there in the cage wanting release so badly; just the fact that she's bound up in there, the fact that if he stops and sniffs he can smell her, is making him hard. Fuck, and I'm supposed to be able to keep her in there for days? That'll be an interesting challenge for both of them.

She watches him in silence for the longest time, wishing like mad there was something - a toy or something - to occupy her time in the cage. Alyssa isn't sure how long she's felt the little pang, but as she spreads her legs her legs, bending forward to get a drink, the urge pairs with the pressure on her lower belly. She tries to ignore it and succeeds for a bit longer, but the need grows to where she knows one sneeze and she'll make a horrible mess. "Sir," she says quietly, testing his reaction to her voice, "Sir, I need to...touhm ..." This really shouldn't be this hard and she knows as time goes by it will have to get easier to ask. "I need to use the restroom, Sir."

It's cute, how demurely she says that. Misha nods, setting his papers aside. "Good girl for asking," he compliments her, crossing over to open the lock of the cage. "Now," he says, looking at her tied hands. "Can I trust you not to touch yourself while in the bathroom? Or am I going to have to be your hands today?" Which could be very interesting, he finds himself thinking.

"Thank you Sir," she says, but knows unless she's planning on peeing herself, asking is the only way she's getting out of her cage. Alyssa's eyes move to still very secure hands as she thinks for a moment, trying to determine if she trusts herself that much. She's already been tied; she's not sure she wants to see the result of touching herself again. Misha helping her in the bathroom is more than embarrassing though. "I'll do my best to not touch, Sir." At this point, that's as good as it gets.

Misha nods. Will he force her to go there someday, him helping her in that regard? Yes, he's pretty sure he will. But it's only the first day today. Have to have something to ramp up towards. He unties her hands, allowing her to get the blood flowing back in them again. "Take your time. And you may walk--I want you to stretch your limbs a moment." She's probably pretty cramped up from being in there for a few hours.

Watching him, Alyssa smiles as he opens the cage and begins to untie her. "Yes Sir, thank you," she says then leans in to kiss his cheek; no, she doesn't ask permission to do it, but some things you just have to do. Crawling from the cage, Alyssa holds onto the cage as she pulls herself up, not totally trusting her legs just yet. "Looks a lot bigger until you're actually in there," she groans out as she stretches upward, holding to Misha's arm to steady her a bit more. "I'll be good, Sir. Promise." He's trusting her right now and she's not going to blow that, besides her thoughts are not on that sort of relief.

She stares at herself in the bathroom mirror and smiles, never realizing before just how much she loves being as he's keeping her. After taking care of things in the bathroom, Alyssa returns to the bedroom, stretching and working her muscles. "What're you reading, Sir? Anything I can help with?"

Misha considers it for a moment. "Reading my script for the finale episode. And yes, you could read Zachariah's and Dean's parts if you like." Once she's had a moment or two to stretch, he goes to her to tie her hands again, leading her back to the cage. He sets down the script in front of her to read; by this point he should have his own lines memorized. This will help him accomplish that.

More than just a little shocked at the fact that her hands are being tied once more, Alyssa watches in stunned silence as she's restrained. She follows quietly, however, and crawls back into the cage, leaning forward slightly to read over the script. Alyssa looks up after a moment. "Sir, I wouldn't touch myself if you leave me untied."

Misha cocks an eyebrow at her. "You would before. What's changed?" Of course there's also the fact that he just happens to love seeing her tied up.

"Well, I uhm...I went to the bathroom without touching myself!" Alyssa gives the biggest, and clearly fake grin, that she can. She'd be able to be a bit more convincing if the way he's looking at her wasn't making her pussy nearly drip.

"Good girl. I'm still keeping your wrists tied today. Maybe we'll try your control another day." Misha tries to keep a straight face, but it's not exactly easy with her grinning at him like that. He spanks her once for good measure once he's got her hands firmly tied once more. "That's for being sassy." And if she gets things, she'll know that he liked it.

She watches as he reties her hands, the overly-wide smile slowly dwindling. As he secures her, it becomes quite clear to her she'll never be able to walk in a hardware store again without getting wet. Damnit. "Bu..but control should be every day shouldn't...YOW! Hey!" Wiggling her ass at the sensation, her eyes flash with mischief. "Kiss it and make it better, Sir?"

The image of his face against her ass gives Misha an idea, an evil one, and he chuckles darkly, grinning ferally. "Okay. But just remember it was your idea. Turn around."

The look on Misha's face has Alyssa wondering if perhaps that wasn't maybe the best choice of words in the world. Turning with her ass to him, she braces for whatever it is that he has in his mind, and from the look on his face that could be anything.

Knowing that she's tensed and ready for anything, Misha leans forward, brushes his lips over the swell of her bottom . . . and bites down hard. Hard enough to leave teeth mark bruises.

Letting out a soft, low purr at the feeling of his lips against her flesh, Alyssa relaxes just in time for Misha's teeth to sink in deep. "Ahhhee! Sir!" She knows immediately she'll carry his teeth marks on her flesh for days, but even that doesn't make her pull away, not that she could if she wanted to.

Satisfied at her cry, Misha releases her and sits back again. "There. All better?" He rustles the script in his hand. "Now back to work." He settles in to start going over the dialogue again, all business once more. Work before play, after all.

Tears spring to wide eyes as he releases her flesh and, bouncing on the balls of her feet, she tries to ease the pain from the bite. "Ye...yes Sir, a...all better. Yes." She knows better than to ask him to rub it. Sniffling lightly, she moves to settle in front of the script for her to read from, wincing at the pain in her ass.

After that, the script reading goes well, and Misha is able to go over his lines, practicing them a bit with Alyssa. Perhaps an hour goes by, and despite his concentration on work, he can't help but glance up at her every once in a while, enjoying the discomfort in her expression, the contortion of her limbs. It's making him very hard. Finally, he sets down the script, stretching a bit from his cross-legged position on the floor by the cage. "That should do for now."

Helping Misha allows her to concentrate on something other than the wetness between her legs but she can feel his eyes on her and that alone has her fighting a whimper. With the position of the script, Alyssa's body stays bent forward to read, ass hiked in the air. Looking up as he speaks, she nods, stretches as best she can then spreads her legs wide, tongue darting out into the water of her bowl. Her belly rumbles but something tells her that her Sir has plans that don't include eating. "It's a good script, Sir. I'm glad I could help you."

"Yeah, I've been pretty happy with the scripts so far," Misha murmurs in a low tone. Watching her drink like a puppy or kitten from the bowl on the floor is doing nothing to bring down his erection. He's a little hungry for lunch also, but this sexual tension . . . well there's no law that says he can't relieve it a bit, is there? He unlatches the cage. "Come forward. Crawling." He isn't even sure what he wants to do--other than the fact he wants to fuck her, right now.

The sound of Misha's voice tells her that his thoughts are everywhere but the script and she tries to wipe the drips of water from her chin as she watches the latch to the cage open. "Yes Sir," she murmurs as she leans forward as far as she can then crawls out, falling forward before righting herself as best she can. "Sir, 's hard to crawl this way." The cage time has done one thing even Alyssa can sense in herself, she's more docile and eager to please than before. Stopping in front of Misha, knees spread wide, Alyssa looks up.

Misha smiles, taking his shirt off over his head, unbuttoning his jeans. "Maybe. But you look hot doing it, girl." He leans forward and pulls Alyssa forward onto his lap. "Have you been a good girl today?" Even with her straddling his lap he's wriggling out of his jeans, kicking them off, rubbing the hard line of his erection in his briefs against her wet pussy. As far as he's concerned, play time is over.

Alyssa goes easily as she's tugged into his laps, moaning as the movements of his body alone puts pressure on her clit. "Ohh yes, Sir! I have been, I've tried to be good." She tries to grind against him as he moves, shifting as she tries to keep her balance. Panting out in hard bursts of air, wide dark eyes lock on Misha. "Please Sir, your girl needs to come so bad. Please?" she says, pleading with him. At this point, Alyssa could care less how it happens or what he does during, she just needs release.

There's a simple way to do this, Misha decides as they writhe against each other. He reaches down to pull his cock out of his briefs, rubbing it up against Alyssa's thighs, her ass. "Ride me," he says, fumbling with his other hand to grab a condom out of the pocket of his discarded jeans, thankful that he actually put one in there. He slides it on, and then starts helping Alyssa to take him in. "You have permission to come as long as I can keep fucking you until I've had enough."

It's a bit like riding a bucking bronc as Misha reaches for then slides on the condom, but as he, quite literally, lifts her up and settles her on his cock, Alyssa's head drops back and a soft, keening cry leaves her throat as his cock presses against her already sensitive pussy. "Oh, oh...oh god! Thank you! Can...oh, can come more than once!" The moment she feels the thick head push into her, Alyssa sinks down then, letting the weight of her body drive him into her, begins to rock against him.

It's perfect--frantic, passionate and a bit violent, Misha thinks as he begins fucking her, holding her waist so that he can bring her down onto his cock over and over again. He wants to see how many times he can make her come, what noises he can wring from her before his own control gives out. It's absolutely bliss.

With hands bound and knees bent there's no way in hell for Alyssa to control the movements, not like Misha is letting her anyway. His grip's nearly brutal as he holds her, thrusting upward, the grind of his hips hitting herclit with every pull downward of her body. "Oh! Oh, Sir...ahhgod !" The first climax slams into Alyssa with the force of a speeding train - her body having been on the edge for so many hours - and she clamps down around him, muscles tightening as eyes widen.

Misha groans as he feels Alyssa's inner walls clamping down around his cock, watching her as she starts to come. He doesn't stop, doesn't even slow down, wondering how high he can take her. Maybe he can even make her pass out from coming.

Alyssa finds out, as she comes, that Misha wasn't joking in his words on not stopping. Pussy suddenly overly sensitive, she tries to tighten her legs, bring them in to ease the sensations, but Misha's body prevents any movement there. "Sir, please...ohhgod! Slow, pleeease!" Head dropping back, eyes wide, the angle is just right to press hard against her clit and she comes again.

The first time he could pretty much make it through. The second time Alyssa comes, however, is a little more than Misha can take. As he feels her wetness spilling over his cock, soaking his underwear and as he shoves up into that blissful tightness he gives a groan. It's only seconds later, then, that he starts to come as well, fucking her until his own climax is past, making him light-headed and groggy.

Huge tears spill down her cheeks as the rush from the climaxes, and the hours of being on the very brink of them, hit her. Slender hips continue to rock downward in small, needy pulses as she feels Misha's cock pulse inside her, slowing and finally stopping before she sinks forward, going limp against him. Breath catching in small hiccups of air, Alyssa lifts her head just enough to press a kiss to his jaw. "Thank you, Sir. Thank you so much."

Misha has a feeling that neither of them will be moving much for the rest of the day. But that's just fine. "You're welcome. I think we're going to have a wonderful thing here, you and me." If this is any indication? Yeah, it's all the stuff of his dreams. He kisses her back, holding her gently.

Alyssa Milano and Misha Collins - I want my mummy!

Mon, 08 Jun 2009 02:31:56 GMT

[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.

Simply thinking out loud

Mon, 13 Apr 2009 08:34:38 GMT

[Locked to Est Members]

For years I've waited for a certain something to happen, a someone to come into my life that could give me what I've looked for. Recently, I believe I've actually stumbled upon that person - and the nervous excitement abounds.

Do I trust him? Oddly enough, yes I do. I'd never even remotely consider what I am if I didn't. It doesn't stop the nerves, however. It's not nerves over what I hope is to come - but yet it is. I'm not afraid, but change in itself is a scary thing. It's not something that either of us are entering into blindly and I believe that communication is the only way to make things work and so far, he's been completely honest with me and I with him. I've been ready for this for a long time, but there is a certain apprehensiveness when you suddenly realize that you have the possibility to gain exactly what you desire.

A sort of surreal happiness seems the closet I can describe it as.

I suppose my question is this: For those of you who have found it, how did you feel when you realized you had, or were getting, exactly what you'd always needed?

~Log - Alyssa Milano and Misha Collins

Tue, 24 Mar 2009 04:21:39 GMT

[backdated - comments welcome]

Warnings: Het, sex, talk of kinkier things

Takes place the morning after their first night.

She has no clue what time it is as she stirs next to him, the bed warm and cozy, his body still curled around hers, and Alyssa snuggles back in closer to him. There are so many questions floating around in her morning-fuzzed brain, so many things she keeps playing over in her head, played in her dreams during the night. Watching Misha, Alyssa drapes an arm over his stomach, hissing a soft breath as the bed presses against the cut at her breast, and she smiles. Last night was the most intense and amazing time she can remember having and laying right next to her, with a soft and angelic look on his face, is the reason why.

Misha stirs a little at the brush of Alyssa's arm, slowly coming awake to find that she's watching him. She looks happy, and he smiles a little. "Good morning. Sleep well?" He certainly did.

Alyssa feels him begin to wake, and she smiles. The night left a sort of pleasant hum in her body and mind almost as if she's a little bit tipsy and it's only after Misha speaks does she finally accept that it wasn't a dream. "Mornin'. I slept perfectly," she seems to be in near the same position she fells asleep in, "thank you. You?"

"Very well," Misha replies, turning a little so that he can better look at her when he speaks. "Nobody has ever let me go that far before." That pretty much says it all, in his book.

Alyssa smiles warmly at him and can't help but snuggle closer as he turns toward her. She'd worried that the morning would be odd - strange silences or odd looks showing regret. She sees none in his eyes as he looks at her. "Really?" Her cheeks color as she recalls how she'd begged, felt, wanted more and dark eyes lower briefly. "I've never felt like that...I've wanted to for so long now."

Misha chuckles. "We've obviously both been playing in the wrong crowds." He rubs the sleep from his eyes a little, needing to wake up a little more. They need to talk. But there's also another . . . firm problem he's dealing with. Hardly surprising, given her cries last night to the rubbing alcohol and the whole sleeping together nude.

"Well," she purrs out with a soft laugh, "I like this crowd you're in." Alyssa rolls toward him, leg curling up to wrap around his knee and she can't stop the grin at what meets her thigh as she does. "At least I get a standing ovation from the crowd here." Okay, she knows it was cheesy, but she can't help the wide grin. "Misha or..." Alyssa lifts her brow a bit, waiting to see exactly what he wants to be referred to as now that last night's scene is over.

"I'm liking the crowd as well," Misha replies, and he grins back when he feels her thigh brush up against him. At the lifted brow, he ponders. "Misha, for now," he says, trailing a hand up her side. "Until we have a contract--which maybe we can start to discuss over breakfast. For now . . ." His hand brushes across the cut on her breast. "I'd love to have you ride me, if you're up for it."

"Misha, it is then." A contract over breakfast? Duke had mentioned a contract, but it had never happened. "Mmm, that feels so strange," she sighs with a smile as she glances down to fingers and the marks on her body, "I like it though...and I'd love to." With a sly little grin, she slide around and moves to straddle Misha's hips, sitting just behind his cock with her ass on his thighs and begins to slowly stroke him. "I know I won't get pregnant, but..." she lifts a brow, "condom?" The thought seems a bit pointless since he's had her blood in his mouth now.

Misha glances over at the bedside table, and sure enough, there are condoms--and packets of lube. He's starting to recognize the two things in various places now. He reaches over and grabs a condom. "Yes. I prefer wearing one unless I know for certain there's no chance of an accident, you know?" Kids are not on his agenda.

Alyssa stops him with a gentle hand to his as she looks from his eyes to his cock, slides down his legs a bit then dips her head. Reaching up, she grips her hair and tugs it to the side, allowing for Misha to have a good view as her lips part and she takes him in completely before pulling back. "Just had to get a taste of it," she breathes out against him, "I could get used to this." Alyssa licks up the underside with a slow, firm press of her tongue then smiles up to him.

"You know, you can tease me a little first. It's allowed--encouraged," Misha says with a grin, feeling himself grow even harder at the warm slippery feel of her tongue.

This was not only something Alyssa loved, but absolutely she was pretty damn good at, or at least she thought from Duke's reactions. "Encouraged, huh? Mmm, I like that." Bowing her back up like a cat, Alyssa's mouth finds him once more and she licks from balls to tip, swirling her tongue at the slit before sinking down on his length.

Misha groans, unable to speak for a few seconds. "And I like that," he returns when he can, bringing a hand down to tangle in her hair, gently pulling and pushing along with her movements. He can't help but compare it to another blow job in a shower a couple weeks back.

The hand in her hair gets Misha a low, soft purr of pleasure as Alyssa's hips gently rock downward against his legs. She doesn't rush or push things, simply toying with the end of his cock, teasing at him before slipping back down only to pull off completely with a soft giggle as she looks up. "More?"

"More. Or I'll roll you over and start doing things myself," Misha says with a nasty grin. "But I'd prefer to watch you this time. So yes. More." He can be a lazy bastard this morning. Hell, he's still waking up.

Alyssa had expected a 'yes, please', and the fact that Misha gives the request as more of an order brings a light covering of goosebumps to her flesh. "Well," she says with a smirk of her own and a lick to the head of his cock, "we wouldn't want you to go through any undue stress, would we?" Dipping her head back down, she takes him in once again, wetly pumping his cock with her mouth.

Misha grips her hair tight with one hand, the other hand gripping the sheets as she starts to really work things, engulfing him in pleasure. "Ohh yesss," he praises her, trying to hold still. Another minute of this, and he'll be more than ready to fuck her.

Back bowing upward, hips rocking downward against him, Alyssa uses her mouth with every ounce of skill she has, feeling Misha grow harder, thicker, inside the heat of her. She loves to tease, tasting the small drop of pre-come his body lets off and as she pulls back, skims her teeth barely over the surface of the warm flesh, purring softly against him as he grips her hair.

"All right," Misha says in a voice roughened by need. "I hope you're ready. I want you to ride my cock now. Keep giving me a show--that's a girl." She's doing very well so far.

She pulls off with a sheepish grin, unaware of the show, but definitely tickled that Misha is enjoying himself. "Least I know you like watching me," Alyssa purrs out with a wicked little smile as she reaches for the condom packet, rips it open then skillfully strokes it down over Misha's hard length.

Shifting forward, placing both hands on his chest, Alyssa lifts slightly, legs spread wide, then slowly slips down, easing him into her as she watches his face. "Mmm, yess!"

Misha groans as he sinks into her, keeping his eyes open, watching her face as well. "Sore at all?" he asks, shifting his hips a little, just to better feel her. He likes that she's small and petite. In fact, it's a tremendous turn on.

Petite has its good qualities and bad, it means that she can move and turn and twist easily, it also means that as Misha lifts, so does her entire body, driving his cock deep up into her and she lets out a strangled gasp as her head drops back. "Sore...tight!" Alyssa grinds against him, loving the near too-tight feeling.

That gets a grin. "Good. Means I did my job right last night then," Misha quips, settling again so that she can move at her own pace and he can just lay back and enjoy.

His cocky little comment gets a wrinkled-nosed smirk before Alyssa pushes up to sink back down, her hands going behind her, bracing on his thighs as she rocks her hips down against him now in a steady pace, head dropping back with a soft, long groan of pleasure-filled pain.

Oh that's much better, Misha thinks, keeping his cocky mouth shut now, except for the occasional moan. He rests his hands on Alyssa's hips, letting her do the work but enjoying the feel of her muscles tightening and relaxing--both her thigh muscles, and the muscles inside her. "I want to see you find your own pleasure. You're allowed to come whenever you want." It's a gift for the successful scene last night. He can be giving. Sometimes.

There's a soft smile tugs at her lips at the fact Misha just granted permission for her climax, but nevertheless, permission has been given and Alyssa makes the most of it as her hips rise and fall now in a more anxious, desperate pattern. "Thank you, Sir!" Shifting forward, Alyssa angles her hips so that with every motion downward, her clit just grazes his body and soon the fire inside her roars to an inferno as she cries out, clamping down around him. "Oh...oh, Sir! Oh, god! Yess!"

As for himself, Misha also wants to let his own pleasure just build, without having to concentrate on anything. When she clamps down around him in her passion, however, that's just a little more than he can take, mostly thanks to that teasing blow job she gave him earlier. He gives a short cry, thrusting up suddenly as pleasure overtakes him, coming hard into the condom, thrusting up until his own climax is over.

His pushes nearly upward send shudders of a smaller climax through her with the feeling of his cock pulsing inside and as his orgasm finally ebbs, Alyssa sinks forward, her body resting against his for a moment before she slowly, carefully, lifts from his body to curl up beside him, knowing the condom needs to be dealt with. "That...was...amazing," she pants out softly, trying to gain her breath back.

It's a moment before he can reply; he takes off the spent condom and tosses it into the garbage, pulling her against him while they rest. "Really?" And that wasn't much of anything. Just plain simple sex. They do seem to be well matched. "Very nice way to wake up." Of course it does make him almost want to take a nap again. But he's hungry. And they have things to discuss.

Nodding against him, Alyssa smiles as she trails her fingers across his chest, "Was a very nice way to say good morning." Trying to recall the last time she's had the chance to feel this way first thing, she simply pushes the thoughts from her head as she presses a kiss to his nipple. "Breakfast is another nice way to have a good morning, you know." Petite as she is, Alyssa knows how to eat.

"You rest then," Misha says, slowly sitting up and stretching. "And I'll call room service. What would you like to eat?" He heads to the bathroom to use it while he listens for her answer, thinking that for himself, steak and eggs sounds like the perfect thing.

As Misha heads to the restroom, Alyssa stretches and moans, the soft smile still plastered to her face as she watches his backside cross the room. "Strawberries and whipped cream and an egg white and veggie omelet!" Oh, that definitely will hit the spot. "I'll grab the bathroom as you order."

"Perfect," Misha answers, washing his hands. He dials up the room service and makes their orders, ordering also some coffee and orange juice to drink as he waits for Alyssa to do her thing in the bathroom. The closets are equipped with fluffy bathrobes, one of which he dons as he waits for the food to arrive.

With a quick brushing of her teeth and a wash of her face, Alyssa finishes up, singing softly to herself as she washes and dries her hands then moves back to the bedroom. "Well, don't you look all cozy and comfy there." Alyssa moves toward him, wrapping her arms around him in a firm hug, "Is there one for me or should I just join you in yours?"

Misha chuckles. "As much as I'd love you to join me in mine, I'd like to talk, and that would be a bit distracting. There's another for you in the closet." He guides her over and helps her put it on. "Nice, huh?" The whole place is pretty amazing.

Alyssa smiles up to him, then nods as he slips the plush robe around around her. "I can see it being distracting for both of us." She tugs the robe around her body, pushes the sleeves up to actually gain sight of her hands then leans up to press a kiss to Misha's cheek. "I suppose the couch works for our talk?"

"Works for me," Misha replies, smiling a little at how Alyssa swims in the large robe. That lovely 'one size fits all' that never seems to actually work. He settles himself on the couch, working to organize his mind into what to say, and what to ask. "There's one thing I need to tell you first. It's something that's come up only very recently, but it's a very big thing." His bisexuality.

Curling up on a cushion near Misha, but still far enough for the space allowed to turn to face him, Alyssa feels her stomach knot just a little at the idea of 'the talk', and a thousand things run through her mind. He's married? A serial killer? Tortures small bunnies for a hobby? "Alright," she says with a deep breath, "no point going further unless we're honest."

"Exactly." And even though he knows it's important, it's still hard for him to talk about. Particularly with women. "I know you've read my journal since you replied to me there, and I've come off pretty certain about the kinds of things I want. But recently a few experiences made me realize that . . ." He taps his foot nervously. "I seem to be attracted to some guys as well as girls. This is really new, and I'm having kind of a hard time with it. But you should know that it's pretty clear now that I'm bisexual." He holds his breath for her reaction.

If the look on Misha's face didn't show the anxiety he feels at having to tell her that, Alyssa swears she'd reach across, grab him and let out a squeal of relief. He's not a serial killer and, as far as she can tell, there are no dead bunnies behind him, but instead of the reaction she wants to give, Alyssa simply smiles. "Misha, Duke was bisexual as well." Alyssa reaches out, her hand going to cover his, "I'd be one hell of a hypocrite if I told you I couldn't handle that when I like women as well."

"Oh good," Misha says in an exhalation of breath, truly relieved--and unable to help the barage of images that Alyssa's own admission brings. "I mean--" He laughs. "I guess that sounds like a typical guy thing. But I really do mean good--that you understand. And I'm going to add that this means I'm going to be playing with men as well, and probably other women. Does that bother you?"

Alyssa listens to him, her eyes soft as she watches him and how nervous he seems. "I think I need to answer your questions with questions, I'm afraid." She shifts a bit, her knees drawing up against her body a bit more. "Would you want me only playing with you?" Alyssa sighs softly as she wraps her arms around her pulled-up knees, "I'm not sure exactly what you want from this, where you see us going. It's one thing for you to play with others, but if we, you and I, make this something more, would I be sharing your home with others as well?"

"That's moving pretty quick," Misha concedes, though he knows if they're both to realize their fantasies, that's exactly where they'll be heading. "I think we'll want to move gradually towards true slavery--give us both time to get used to that. Do I see you living with me? Eventually, yes, I certainly hope so. I don't know that I'm ready right now to make all the rules for you. As for sharing a house with somebody else . . . I wouldn't rule it out. There's one fellow that I've seen recently, that I . . ." He presses his lips together--this is another hard thing to admit. "That I have feelings for. So I don't know what the future will hold in that regard."

He's honest and she likes that, let's her know exactly where she stands and what to expect, look forward to, or not, in the future. Propping her chin on her knees, Alyssa smiles, "I don't know that I'm ready for the full slave thing either, not yet anyway. I don't want to rush into something, anything, especially when it affects so much." Alyssa pushes at the sleeves, her hands having completely disappeared once more, then meets his eyes again. "I don't mind you having feelings for someone else, at least I don't think I would. I've...well, I've never been one much for jealousy, be it against a man or woman, but, "she lowers her eyes, working the words over in her head, "I know I wouldn't want to feel like someone that simply got the part of you that was left over...not part of a harem thing."

Misha frowns a little, pondering her words. "Not part of a harem thing . . . can you explain that? I understand not wanting to get leftovers--I would never want that either, and if it ever felt like that to you, then something isn't working right." He's relieved that she's not ready to rush into anything either. No matter how much certain parts of them may want it. "Ideally, a Master/slave relationship should grow into one of love and even partnership. Now I might have more than one love in my life; I don't know. But leftovers . . . no. I don't think so." He looks at her solemnly. "I already care for you, Alyssa. I would not do that to you."

It feels so odd to talk to him like this, and yet as she sits there, she's more at ease than she can remember being - mind and body. "I've known a couple of slaves that were actually part of a stable of several other slaves. I'm not sure I could live that way." Alyssa looks down for a moment then meets his eyes, "Just don't want to get lost in the fray, ya know. I don't expect love. I agree, love is something that grows over time, but I'm not naive either, there's a vast difference in serving and loving, my hope is that there can be both here."

Ah, that's what she means. "While I'd love to have many women to adore . . . no. I don't want a harem. Much better to have a more intense relationship with one. Besides, I think it would be impossible to meet everyone's needs." He likes her attitude about love--he has the same attitude. It's something he hopes for, but also something which will need time. "Okay. This sounds good. Where I want to start, then, is by having you fill out the full checklist, so I know just what you think of everything. I'll fill out mine as well. Then you'll be able to see where we have kinks in common." He pauses as there's a knock on the door, and goes to let in the room attendant with their food. Once things are set up, he resumes his place on the sofa, offering Alyssa a strawberry garnishing his plate.

Alyssa watches him with a giggle, "I don't think there's a man alive that wouldn't like the idea of his own harem...well, except maybe Michael Jackson. I think it'd scare him to death." As he rises to answer the door, she quiets for a moment - actually putting down her desires, her wants, on paper seems as odd as it does enticing. "Misha," she says as he closes the door and returns, looking up as he sits, "Duke didn't do much of the harder stuff with me. Do you consider it a kink even if I've not done it yet?"

With a wicked grin, she snags the berry, lips wrapping around it slowly as she gently bites into the fruit, a small trickle of juice escaping the corner of her mouth.

"Oh yes," Misha answers, watching her chew. "You missed a drop," he says in a low voice, leaning forward to lick the juice from her mouth. Sitting back, he continues. "Anything you want to do, anything you'd absolutely never do--I want to know all of it. I don't care if it embarrasses you--tell me. I can't possibly fill your needs and your fantasies if I don't know what they are."

The lick to the corner of her lips brings a soft moan and a shiver of pleasure. Back on track, Aly, she thinks to herself as she nods to him, lightly licking at the spot his tongue just found. "It's been so long since I've even looked at a checklist," she says with a smile, "but if last night was any indication, I'd say knife play definitely rates as a hard kink."

"Knife play is one of my favorites," Misha says with a grin, cutting himself some steak and eating it. "Maybe we can put a star or something next to things we've never tried, have no idea if we'd enjoy them, but are curious about." He contemplates the shower incident. "I have to confess something. It might have embarassed you. But I thought it was kind of hot that I made you pee."

Alyssa nods, liking the idea of the stars next to things. There are so many thing she knows she'd love given the chance. "I like that idea, 'm curious about a lot really." The next statement catches her mid-swallow and she coughs lightly as her face turns brilliant pink. "I couldn't stop it. The warmth and the pain mixed and..." She shrugs with a little sheepish grin, "I'm glad you didn't freak."

"It just surprised me," Misha says, shrugging and taking another bite. "I think I might have discovered a kink for humiliation." He chews for a moment, considering what else they need to discuss. "You've talked a bit about fantasies you have about being a slave, how you envision it. I'd kind of like to give you an assignment besides the checklist. I'd like your take on how you'd like to serve and submit. Kind of your big picture of how you'd like things to be. Something written, so I can refer back to it."

The pink of her skin deepens, nearly glowing as she nods, whispering softly, "It was such an odd feeling, to lose that control in front of you. I'm just glad it was in the shower." Alyssa's eyes widen as the thought of being clothed and...No, no, no. Can't think on that.

With a soft sigh, Alyssa situates herself, settling her plate in her lap. She's thought about it, knows exactly how she sees herself as a slave, but if that goes with Misha's idea - she has no clue. "I can tell you most of it now, right it down later.". She watches him with a steady gaze, "I want to give completely - no safewords. If you'd tell me to sleep in the back yard naked, I'd do my best to abide. I can't say I won't fight against some things, but..."

Misha nods, moving on from his steak to his eggs. "So a 24/7, live in slave where I basically control everything from what you wear to where you sleep, what you eat, and when and how you're played with." He sits back for a moment. "Let me ask you this. Would you like opportunities where I'd allow you to play with others? Serve/service others? Possibly while I watched?" That could definitely be hot.

Oh god, yes, she thinks to herself but simply looks at him and nods slowly. "Part of me would very much like to be able to talk to others of my own free will," she gives a light shiver as she takes a drink, "part of me wants to give over everything. Even," she whispers out, lowering her eyes, "my bodily functions."

Alyssa's lowered eyes fly open and it's all she can do to halt the moan that fight to leave her. "If you are my master, and you wanted it, my only options would be to obey or be punished." Though Alyssa thinks both options sound damn good to her.

Good. It was her reaction that he wanted to see, and he's not disappointed. They definitely have similar wants. "Probably I wouldn't control all those things every single day. But it would be fun to control different things at different times." He smiles evilly. "Mix it up."

He sets aside his breakfast, full for the moment. Also out of questions. "Do you have any questions?"

She can feel the heat in her face and chest as she reveals to him desires that have, till now, only been part of those dark, wicked fantasies that her mind plays in the dark of the night as her fingers
find her own wetness.

Alyssa nods then pushes her own plate to the side, more interested in the man in front of her - and the fruit will wait. "Would there be set rules? Those that didn't change from day to day?" She takes a deep breath, wondering about his answer to her next questions. "How extreme could go? How far do you see taking me?"

"Oh there would have to be some set rules. Absolutely. I'm thinking it would be more the things like bodily functions where I wouldn't want total control all the time--if I'm working I don't want to have to call and say 'eat!' But for example I might insist that you wear your collar all the time and be waiting kneeling naked on the carpet for when I get home from filming." He grins at the thought.

The second question gives him pause. "I honestly don't know how extreme things could go--because things change. That's why I want to see your checklist. That gives me my boundaries. I definitely could see myself keeping you in a cage for several days eating out of a dog dish and being brought out only for punishment or so I can fuck you. I don't know if that's extreme, but I could definitely do it. Some might say what we did last night was extreme. It's all according to your individual definition."

Nodding, Alyssa definitely agrees that his life shouldn't he halted to inform her on necessary things. "Right, that would not only be hectic for you to have to remember to call, but also be unusual on my end because you wouldn't know my needs if you were away."

There is no way to stop the moan or the shift of slender hips as dark eyes threaten to close at the images that flood her head. "Misha," she nearly purrs out, "I...uhm..." heart pounding she struggles to form a simple phrase but all that comes is a breathy 'Oh god'.

Misha grins. "Like that idea, do you? I'll have to remember that. And I haven't forgotten the bukkake thing either." He pours himself some coffee to drink. "Probably what I'll end up doing is verbalizing ideas like that and gauging your reactions. Your reactions will probably guide a lot of what I do."

A thought comes to him. "What would you say your needs are? Because you know, that's my responsibility if I'm your Master. Making sure your needs--not necessary wants, mind you, but real needs--are taken care of."

"I do, yeah...yes." Oh, and he would remember that, wouldn't he. She sits here with Misha in more than a little bit of shock. In all her years with Duke, never was the man able to sit and calmly listen and ask and know what her desires were without becoming so stressed he'd have to leave the room. "Well," she says with a quirky grin, "that was definitely a good reaction."

The question he asks takes Alyssa by shock and she sits there for a moment. She's never given thought to her basic, bare needs and it takes a bit more thought than she thought that it would. Top of the line shampoo? More than likely a desire than a need. "Aside from food and shelter? I suppose the main one would be a special cleanser for my face. I have allergies to most and they break me out." She knows that sounds silly, childish even, but that is a true need for her. "Other than that? To feel cared for. I'll try to submit to anything you do, so long as I feel cared for."

Misha nods. "Write it down--or actually I'm probably going to have you take care of shopping needs because I hate it. Also, please please tell me about any allergies or health concerns you have. I don't want to make you wear latex or something and then find out you can't breathe." That would be very bad.

Alyssa grins then shakes her head. "None that I know of. I wore leather and latex and all that on the set of Charmed and have worn latex gloves several times." She'll make him a list of everything, just as he's asking, but saying it out loud always helps too. "I'm healthy, save for a cold once in awhile. Duke always made certain I had regular and complete physicals."

"I would hope so." That he wants her healthy is of course without question. Misha gazes at the unkempt room, the unmade bed, the towels with blood that the room service will eventually have to deal with. "I think that's everything for now, then. It's going to take me a little bit to work all of this over in my head. I have to go up to Vancouver for some filming in the next few weeks." He smiles. "Apparently, fans like me. I have an almost steady job, for a while."

Following his eyes around the room, she gives him a sheepish grin, "We sort of left a bit of a mess, didn't we?" Though Alyssa is quite certain that their room is probably mild compared to some of them and how they are left. Alyssa nodded as she reached out to take his hand, her own petite next to his. "I can see why they like you. Misha, just as I wouldn't want you rushing me, I'm not about to press you on this. It's a huge leap...for both of us." With a soft shrug, she glances around then back to him, "I don't seem to be going anywhere any time soon." There is one other question in her mind, but she decides it can wait until steps are at least in the works.

Oh yeah, it's a huge leap all right. "One step at a time," he assures her. Which reminds him. "Where are you working these days? Do you have a job?" He would have to work that into his plan of course. He smiles lopsidedly. "I'm still somewhat a starving actor."

With a shake of dark hair, Aly gives a wicked little grin, "I am a lady of luxury," she purrs out, striking a dramatic pose on the couch before looking back to him. "No, seriously though," she gives him a wink, straightening up on the couch to wiggle back into her spot, "Duke made certain I would never want for anything. My loft, the car...all paid for. And, I have a comfortable bank account. He loved me, I know he did in some odd way, it was just more daddy than dom."

That gets a raised eyebrow. "So you're . . . well off? As in, I don't have to stress about the cost of booking a room here?" And though he wouldn't admit it, that little fact had been stressing him.

Alyssa feels the blush creep across her cheeks and nose as she nods to Misha. "More than 'well off', actually." She hates talking about finances and how much Duke actually gave her, but she's talking about entering into something very deep and very binding, in her eyes, and finances do play a part in her life. "I can't do the jetset in Paris every month, but Duke made it so I never have to work again and can still live quite nicely."

Misha gives a low whistle. "I'd consider that well off then. Okay. Good to know." So she isn't working, and doesn't need to. He'll figure out the rest later. "I think that's enough for us both to chew on for now, then." He smiles. "Plenty to look forward to later."

Alyssa Milano and Misha Collins - Firsts

Thu, 12 Mar 2009 04:01:00 GMT

Takes place directly after this post

Warnings: Cutting, bloodplay, piss (in a non-sexual sense)

The little white Mustang convertible pulls into the parking area of the Est Bar and Alyssa finds a decent parking place near the front, not bothering with valet. She spends a moment checking herself in the mirror, applies a bit of gloss then slips from the car to make her way to the entrance with a soft smile on her face.

She's dressed in the red corset that she told Misha she would be in, and pauses for a moment to adjust the black laces that criss-cross up the front and the short skirt that should be a mini, but on Alyssa's small frame tends to ride just a bit low, even after being altered. The heels of her red slingbacks tap lightly against the floor as she steps inside, blinking at the difference in lighting. Alyssa acquires a table and leaves word with the waitress that she's expecting someone before ordering a white wine and sitting back to relax, one leg draped casually over the other.

Misha gets to the club right on time, handing over his not-so-impressive Toyota Camry for the valet parker to deal with and heading in to the bar, dressed tonight in a red button-up shirt (to match Alyssa's corset) and jeans. He spots her pretty quickly, not surprisingly, and flashes her a smile, walking over. "Okay, you have to stand up for me. Let me see the whole outfit." He offers her a hand to take if she so desires.

She smiles wide, and as Misha approaches, she eyes the man, not remembering him to be quite this handsome. "Well, since I've watched you on your way over here, it only seems fair really." Alyssa takes the offered hand and stands, doing a slow turn as she brings her arms up and over her head then lets them slip back to her side, glancing back over her tattooed shoulder to Misha. "Well, does everything look in order?"

It's just the right mixture of skin and coverage, enough to draw Misha's eyes to all the right places and make his body come to attention. "Yeah," he breathes, greedily feasting on her with his eyes. "I'd say it's definitely in order." He squeezes her hand gently. "Did I mention that I had a crush on you when we were filming?" He's the younger man this time, which is different from his usual date. But he thinks that's a good thing.

"You did? Really? Why didn't you say anything then?" Her eyes shine bright at the compliments and she slowly takes her seat again, eyes on Misha. Duke had helped her train in certain areas - one being able to listen in a way that shows the other person they are your only focus. "I remember you, you were so cute..." she gives him a slow once-over then smiles, "and I see you've done quite well keeping yourself in good shape."

"Yoga," he replies smoothly, sitting down as well. He orders himself a pale amber beer. They aren't that different in age, but then she did hit her success and popularity at a young age, while he . . . he's still working at it. "You're looking great also. I still can't believe you're a member." He laughs at the shock he'd felt. "So let's see . . . do you have a checklist somewhere? I'm really curious now, you have to understand." What she's into beyond the few things she mentioned. What she'd be willing to do.

"Thank you," Alyssa replies with a light smile as she motions to herself, "yoga and tai chi." Watching for a moment as he orders, Alyssa can't help but wonder why she never took notice of Misha before, then again, when she was on Charmed, things were quite different for her. "There're a lot of very familiar faces around sometimes, it's more than a bit overwhelming, even for me." Taking a sip of her wine, she thinks for a moment then nods. "I do, but it's a bit outdated. Duke was very mild in things he liked, things he would do." She levels her eyes at him and smiles. "I want more."

Misha blinks, intrigued. "Mild? What's 'mild' in your definition?" His beer arrives and he takes a sip as well, nodding about her comment about being overwhelmed. In fact, there's a scene going on in the corner that he's trying very hard to ignore.

Alyssa follows Misha's gaze and smiles, "They are a bit hard to ignore, yes?" Laughing lightly, she shifts in the chair to more fully turn toward the man across from her. "Duke's version of mild was what most regular people consider kink. He enjoyed spanking, a bit of public play now and then, toys, but nothing too intense even there." Smiling softly as she recalls her former sir with a bit of sadness for what was lost, she looks up to Misha, "He was very kind hearted, but it was that kind heart that stopped him from being able to pull out a scream from me."

Misha makes a face. "Sounds kind of boring. No offense." Kind-hearted has its place of course, but not in scene, not when the whole point is to cause pain to someone who enjoys it. He considers himself very kind-hearted. And also a very mean, very cruel sadist as well.

Taking a sip of her wine, she nods then shakes her head, dark hair swirling about her shoulders. "He tried so hard. He wanted to make me happy and tried scenes that he knew I would love." Cocking her head a bit, she laughs, "There was a scene that, bless him, he wanted so badly to give me. It lasted until he told me I looked too sad puppy for him."

"Sad puppy? Can I ask what he was doing? Or you?" Sad puppy does not sound like the right term for a sexually intense scene. "And what kinds of scenes would you love?" Because he would love to find that out.

"Well," she says with a near child-like laugh, "that was the whole thing. I had finally coaxed him into a scene where he had me in a costume of sorts. I was, in fact, dressed up as a puppy." Alyssa's eyes darken a bit as she recalls the many scenes that fell so short of what she needed. "He loved me, and couldn't see me in pain, no matter how badly I needed it," her voice grows quiet and she sighs out, "the moment I'd beg for things to stop, he would."

Brown eyes suddenly light up at the thought of actually telling someone her desires. "I want to scream. To be kept naked in cuffs for the one I'm serving and whipped until I can't move. I want to feast on nothing but his come and what he allows me to have. I...want to be a slave."

Misha nods at the description of the puppy play, finally getting it--so she likes to scream 'stop' when she means 'go.' He likes that. And he really likes the rest of her words, a dark light coming into his eyes, particularly at the word 'slave.' He leans forward, holding her with his gaze. "I'm looking for a slave." He lets that word hang in the air for a moment. "Not instantly, you understand--it's something that has to develop over time. But that's one of my dreams. To have a slave that I can do just about anything I want to. And I like to hear screams." He adds that last bit on for good measure, to see how she reacts.

The more Misha talks, the more Alyssa can feel herself grow damp and she curses the very fact that she's not worn panties. Oh great, just great, Lys, she thinks to herself. Shifting, she re-crosses her legs as she feels her heart pound in her chest. Leaning just a bit more forward, her eyes never stray from his. "Can I ask just what you consider to be anything? That can encompass quite a bit actually." The fact that he loves the sound of screams has her biting the inside of her cheek to keep from whimpering.

Misha looks away for a second, because traditionally this is where he's fucked up, where he has to be careful. His idea of intense seems to be a lot more intense than most people's ideas. "Well," he begins, trying to think of examples. "You mentioned cages. That sounds like fun. A staged kidnapping. Knifeplay. Bloodplay. Nothing that would permanently mark or harm you, you understand. But other than that, I like to go pretty far." That should give her a good idea.

A petite foot begins to tap madly at the floor beneath her and Alyssa swears she can actually feel the orgasm building inside of her where she sits. It takes her a full minute to compose herself and find what she hopes is a normal voice before finally speaking, eyes still on Misha. "Have you ever kept a slave, or kept someone in that position for an extended period?" The idea of being in a cage, kept there and used, does bring the moan that she bit back earlier. "Would you ever mark someone?"

God, I wish, Misha thinks, noting that Alyssa seems even more interested than before, which for him is a huge thing--not only is she not scared (or slapping him); she's excited. "No, I haven't--no one's let me go that far before," he admits, wishing he had more experience since she seems to be seeking that. "I would mark someone if I had their permission, yes." It's been pretty much drilled into him that everything needs permission.

There's a bit of a shocked look on Misha's face and Alyssa wonders if perhaps she's stunned him by her revelations, but he's still here and still talking - both are a very good sign. "No one's let you? Is it really that hard to find people on the edgier side of things?" Damn, no wonder she's had such trouble, maybe it's not her but the kink community in general. "Let me ask you something, if I can." She takes a breath and decides she might as well go for broke, "If someone were to tell you that you didn't need to ask permission, what would you think?" There, it's said, it's out in the open and all she can do is wait for his answer.

He has to stare at her for a moment to make sure she's not joking with him. Because something like that just sounds too good to be true. "Yes, it is that hard to find someone on the edgier side--at least where I was playing. I haven't yet noticed how it is here, but it seems true here as well." He licks his lips. "I'd say a girl like that would be my dream girl." And he's almost positive that statement will get him into trouble.

"Trust me, it's like that regardless of where you are. I've lived here and in New York for a bit, and I actually think it's harder to find things like what I'm after in the bigger cities." What she's after at least so far doesn't seem to be making Misha run for the door and at his comment she smiles, eyes widening a bit. "Really? Your dream girl?" For the first time since he's sat down across from her, Alyssa's eyes drop slightly. "I don't want to be asked," she whispers, "I want to be owned. Completely."

My God, Misha thinks, feeling something powerful--something difficult to describe, but definitely positive--moving through him. He'd been about ready to say women like this didn't exist outside of fantasy. "Well," he says in a low voice, trailing his hand over hers. "We'll have to see about that, then, won't we? See if that works for us," he amends, so that there is no doubt in her mind that everything she's saying sounds good to him.

He sits back. "Probably should start somewhere simple, though. Maybe I can describe a scene that comes to mind and you can let me know if it sounds good." That way he isn't exactly asking her, but more gauging her reaction to it.

She looks up at the touch to her hand and her heart all but stops as their eyes meet and his words sink into her. They aren't simply heard but actually felt as the very thought of what might be settles in her mind. It's not until Misha sits back that she finally takes a breath and smiles. He's the first person she's spoken to, the first that even remotely seems to get it - what others deem as torture is what her body desires.

"Seeing if you can shock me, huh?" Alyssa grins mischievously then takes a small drink of her wine and pushes the glass to the side. "Describe away, we'll see if I run for the door."

Misha snorts. "Gee thanks. Your words of confidence are noted." He sips his drink for a moment, considering what he wants to do to her tonight. "Okay. First of all I do need to know a few things. Are you filming? How much skin is being shown--in other words, where can I leave bruises and such that might take a couple weeks to heal? Any other medical issues I should know about?"

Her grin widens as she settles back in her chair, listening to his questions. "Well, I'm healthy as a horse. Isn't that the saying? Duke made certain I had full physicals every six months." It's now her turn to lean forward, short but well-groomed nails trail across the back of his hand. "I haven't really done anything in film since charmed." With a lick of her glossed lips, she smiles, "My skin would be your canvass."

That gets a sigh that is almost a moan. "I want you to know you just made me hard," Misha tells her. So that's not an issue. "In that case . . . I see you naked and tied to a chair with your legs open, gag in your mouth, but no blindfold--I want you to be able to see everything I do to you. I'd tease you with a few things first--maybe some ice, maybe my mouth, and then the edge of a knife. I'd cut your skin in a few places and lick the blood. Maybe I'd start to fuck you with the handle of the blade. And then I'd untie you enough so that I could throw you onto the bed and savagely fuck you. Maybe with your hands still tied behind you." He dips his fingers into his beer and licks them off, watching her.

The fact that he's hard, the fact that he's actually enjoying whatever thoughts are playing in his head, brings a full soft smile from Alyssa as she listens to his thoughts become verbalized. It takes everything inside her to sit still, to not let this man across from her see her shift, her hips roll against the hardness of the chair as images begin to flood her thoughts that match the scenario he gives. It's the idea of the blade on her skin that finally pulls the sound from her throat and brings her breathing to ragged pants. Brazen and bold, perhaps, but Alyssa reaches out to take his wrist and bring the fingers wet with beer and Misha's saliva to her mouth. "I can feel my juices coat my thighs," she whispers a brief moment before sucking his index finger into her mouth.

Misha's nostrils flare. "Then I think we'd better get a room here," he says in a low voice, pushing aside his beer. Doesn't need it, at this point. A thought comes to him. "Quick question. Do you consider yourself to be an exhibitionist?" Since he had that whole discussion in his journal on the subject.

Alyssa grins to herself as she watches his reaction, that grin transferring to her lips as she hears his words. There's a quick thought to pinch herself, to prove that this is a dream since it doesn't seem things like this happen for her in the sexual department of life. "If you're asking me if I'd kneel naked at your feet with my hand and feet bound, the answer is yes." With a teasing lick of her lips she leans in, "If you're asking would I suck you in public? You're just going to have to see for yourself."

That gets a raised eyebrow. "Well, I'm asking because I'm curious if you derive pleasure from being watched. But that's good to know." He knows that he's not an exhibitionist. But there's no telling if that would change, if he had someone to show off.

She can't hold back the giggle as she watches him. "Well, until now all I've done in public is kneel at Duke's feet in the nude. Until now, a lot of what I've done has only been in fantasy." Alyssa hopes with everything she has that now things are changing. "And in case you can't tell, the idea of a room sounds very nice."

Misha nods, smirking. Maybe there's merit in the idea of public play after all. "Go book us a room then--and make sure there's a wooden chair in the room. And rope. And some knives." He has a few of his own, but now that he'll actually get to use them, he knows he's going to want to run out and buy more.

With a quick nod, Alyssa rises and , wiggling her ass a bit to smooth out her skirt while giving Misha a little show, she smiles down, "Just in case you want to watch me walk." The sparkle in her dark eyes shows she has no doubt he'll be watching, then she excuses herself to secure the room with the items Misha stated. Outwardly not a person in the place would know that on the inside Alyssa is a swirling, twisting mass of nervous energy. Room secured, she returns to Misha with the keycard and hands it over with a smile. "Shall we?"

"Let's go," Misha says, standing up and taking the card. He takes Alyssa's arm, very much the gentleman, and leads her to the elevators, checking the card to see which floor they're on. While waiting, he can't help but slide his hand down to feel where her skirt meets skin, caressing her there. He wants to be doing a lot more, but this will do for the moment.

Shifting into his touch, she smiles up to him as she feels his hand at her skin. "I have to admit, I'm just a bit nervous. It's good though," the elevator dings and the doors open and she nods, "yes, definitely a good nervous." Admitting to herself that she enjoys the softness of his touch, she has to wonder if Misha will be another that once he has her tied, has no idea what to do with her.

He's a little nervous himself, but he's not going to admit that. It's just the nervousness of finally getting to do what he wants, rather than having to settle for something less. "Fear can have it's fun side," he says with a grin, to reassure her as they ride the elevator up. There are a few last items of business. "You're going to have a safeword, at least for tonight. If things go well, eventually we can discuss a contract where we won't need one. Do you have one you prefer?"

"Oh, I definitely believe it can. Fear can be addictive in it's own right." The elevator seems like it has to be the slowest in the place, then again they say patience is a virtue. Alyssa has never believed it, but that's what they say. "A safeword? Duke had me choose one, I used flute. I think that's the best since it's a word I'm at least familiar with." Oh yes, if the night goes right, Alyssa doesn't see herself ever using the safeword again, not that she's used it previously.

"Flute," Misha says, to confirm it. He tries to think if there is anything else he's missing, as they reach their floor and step out, heading towards the room. "Oh. Face slapping. Yes or no?" It's a visceral thing, and he wants permission before he goes there. Better to check certain things in advance. They reach the door. "When we're inside, I'm starting." That's the only warning Alyssa will receive before he goes fully into role.

Alyssa's face turns to one of concentration as she thinks. "I'm not sure I've ever been hit in the face, well...not other than on set that is. I don't see where it's so wrong, just not hard enough to make me lose teeth. I'd sort of like to keep them since they're all real." A very warped image pops into her mind of trying to give head without teeth - could be interesting, but no. She looks up at Misha then toward the door and nods. "Oh, what do I call you? Misha, sir or something else?"

At first Misha thinks she's going to say 'hard enough to leave a mark' and he's ready to say that sort of thing is hard to control in a facial hit. But he blanches at the mention of losing teeth. "If I hit you hard enough to knock a tooth out, you have permission to stab me with one of my knives. Jesus. I hope I never do anything like that. Call me 'Sir.' 'Master' is something you'll have to earn."

Laughing lightly, Alyssa reaches up to press a soft kiss to Misha's cheek, "I don't think I'll be stabbing you, but thank you just the same." There's something in the words he uses, something in the way he tells her she'll have to earn calling him Master that absolutely makes her purr with excitement. "Sir it is then." She takes a deep breath, knowing that on the other side of the door is, hopefully, what she's been waiting for.

Misha opens the door, scanning the room for two things, just two things that he absolutely must have to start the scene right. He spots the chair set nicely in an area with no other furniture, just perfect for his needs. And he spots the lengths of rope on the bed, along with some knives. Good service, he thinks with satisfaction, reminding himself to tip the hotel staff later on. He closes the door, humming a little to himself. Next thing, he's grabbing Alyssa harshly by the arms and slamming her up against a wall, and not gently at all. "You're mine, now," he breathes into her ear.

He pauses as the door opens and Alyssa wonders for a moment if something is wrong or out of place or if he's simply got a case of cold feet now. It wouldn't be the first time a man has promised her a night then realized they couldn't produce what she'd asked for. "It's nice, isn't..." the breath leaves her body in a violent push as Misha pins her and her entire body begins to react. THIS is exactly what she's needed. "Yes, Sir. Yours." Turning her head as she feels the hot breath against her ear, she nods more to herself than to him. Oh yes, this is what her body needs.

"Shut up," he says in a low voice. If he wants to hear her speak, he'll say so. With another rough tug (and ever so thankful that Alyssa is smaller than himself), Misha drags her over to the bed and the rope, throwing her down on the bed, grabbing the first length of rope as he pulls her arms back behind her. Simple two column tie around the wrists, just so--he's practiced it a thousand times, on himself, on furniture, and on the few women who have actually let him tie them up. He's practiced for speed, also, so in no time her wrists are tied tight, his weight holding her down.

Force. Alyssa swears at this point, she's wanted it so long that she could climax right here and now and be contented for days with just what he's done so far. Bouncing as she hits the bed, he's on her before she can come to a complete stop, hands behind her back and she's bound tight. Struggling, but not hard enough to actually attempt to break free, she sighs out a whimper at the tightness of the ropes against her flesh, the weight of Misha's body on hers only making it better. Alyssa gives a final tug of her hands then smiles to herself as she realizes just how good Misha is at this.

The next order of business is to make sure things come off which won't be able to come off once she's tied to the chair, Misha considers. He reaches under Alyssa's miniskirt, but to his surprise, he finds nothing there. No panties. She'd mentioned that earlier, he recalls--he hadn't fully believed her. The corset won't be a problem. He likes the high heels. Which leaves only the miniskirt, which he decides won't be in the way and can stay on. Since he can't shock her with pulling off her panties, he slides a finger inside of her instead, teasingly. "Little slut."

Wiggling under him, Alyssa struggles against Misha's weight as she feels his hands snake over her body then push up under the short skirt that's rode up on her thighs and he pauses, hesitating as he realizes that there's nothing covering the small swatch of dark fuzz. Slender hips work against the bed as he pushes into her body and her legs instinctively pull closed, body arching at the sensation, mind swirling at the words. "Yes, Sir." Grinding lightly against the pressure, Alyssa lets out a soft whimper of pleasure against the bed under her.

Misha pulls out his finger against the pressure of her legs, chuckling a little. Taking a handful of rope, he picks up Alyssa and carries her over to the chair, plopping her down into it gracelessly, and immediately positioning her arms so that they're behind the back of the chair. The first tie goes around her knee, around the leg of the chair, locking her leg in place. The second tie goes around the other knee and the other leg, so that her legs will be forced spread. Then the rope goes around her waist and the back of the chair, tying her there. He brings that up to bind her shoulders to the top of the back of the chair. And finally her ankles, to the feet of the chair. He smiles at her, all trussed up now, and immobile. "Much better."

With a hard grunt of breath as she hits the chair, Alyssa now realizes why it was important that the chair be wooden, and honestly wishes she'd added a little extra request of her own to have one that had a padding. Lost in her own thoughts, before she can process the agility with which Misha seems to work, her legs and arms are bound, thighs spread wide and arms at a very odd angle to the back of the chair. She can already feel the heat inside her growing, already this is more than she's had and were she able to, she'd drop to her knees and thank Misha properly. But, instead she looks up, dark brown eyes searching the man who has her, and she pulls hard against the ropes. "Sir? They're tight." Alyssa smiles at the knowledge she'll most likely wear bruises for days.

"Yes, they're supposed to be tight," Misha says with a little smile, slowing down now, taking a look around the room to see what all they have to work with. He opens a drawer and finds a handkerchief, which he ties a knot in. Stepping behind Alyssa, he pushes the knot into her mouth. "You can still talk around this if you have to," he tells her, tying the ends around the back of her head, gagging her. He'll still recognize a simple word like 'flute'. But it's one more way that she'll be bound and one more reminder of who is in charge here. He arranges her hair so that it isn't all held down by the tie, and sits back to enjoy the sight of her, mouth stretched wide.

Watching Misha, Alyssa swears she can feel the wetness pool beneath her, her own juices already soaking the chair under her hips as she spies the handkerchief and what Misha does with it. "'eth 'ir," she mumbles behind the gag as Misha pushes it in and secures it tight, her tongue automatically moving to work against it, testing how to swallow and speak as the knot between her lips keeps her mouth open a certain distance while the cloth tugs harshly at the corners of her lips. Alyssa can feel the saliva already coating the cloth and silently says a thanks that the material is absorbent. Misha's eyes are on her, watching with an intent stare, she tries to shift under the gaze but the ropes hold her tight.

So far it seems that all systems are still 'go.' Misha smiles darkly, enjoying the sight of her, leaning forward to arrange things a little, pushing up her skirt higher to expose her, running a hand up her thigh. He goes back to surveying the room, finding a bucket of ice by the bed, along with glasses and water bottles--most likely $5.00 water bottles. Oh well. He puts some ice into a glass and pours himself some water, taking a sip as he wanders over to inspect the knives. He pockets a couple, and returns to Alyssa, smiling again. "This is fun," he murmurs, leaning in, pressing the cool glass against her throat. He did promise teasing, after all. He follows that with the press of his lips, nibbling up along her throat.

She watches him closely, eyes never leaving the man in front of her as he surveys things and her body begins to move against the ropes. They don't cut in, at least not painfully, but the position of her arms is more than a bit odd and she can feel the beginnings of pins and needles in fingertips and knows soon they'll be asleep. Eyes widen and she moans at the sight of him scanning the knives, her thoughts going immediately to the scenario he painted downstairs. As Misha skims the glass across her skin, Alyssa discovers one thing about this man - he can be as sensual as he can scary. Alyssa wonders if that's the wrong word, but as he finds her throat with warm lips, she knows she should be afraid - not of him, but of giving in.

Misha feels a little shiver go through her as he nibbles, and he knows that he's getting to her. He kneels in front of her, setting the glass on the floor for the moment, and dips his fingers in to pull out an ice cube. "So are you a good girl, or a very bad girl?" He asks, trailing the ice cube on the same path that his mouth just made, and then lower, over the curves of her breasts, pushed up by the corset. He sees a droplet escape down into her cleavage and smiles, then leans forward to lick the wetness off her.

Alyssa's head drops back as a deep sigh leaves her, the feeling of his touch seems to wind its way inside her, drawing out emotions that hide deep within her soul and she does her best to keep them there, hidden away till later. Later comes a sheer breath later as ice meets heated skin and she yelps out behind the gag. "ood! I'n ood, ir!" She struggles, the ropes preventing any more than the smallest of movements and she makes a mental note to find out the rest of his Boy Scout skills later. A soft pink tongue peeks out below the knot in the gag and she swallows hard, watching his tongue flick across her chest and she nods, frantically encouraging him in any way she can.

The mounds of her breasts are just too perfect to resist, and so Misha finds a nice spot and bites down, hard, thinking about her comment about being his canvas, ready to make a mark or two to prove it. He licks it better after, then pops the ice cube into his mouth, contemplating her corset. It's time for that to come off, as lovely as it is. Unfortunately it isn't the kind that has the hooks in front. "Next time I want to see hooks in front," he tells her, as his hands find the knot and he begins unlacing her. At least it isn't the kind that only laces in back. Once she's unlaced, he pulls the material carefully away, reaching out to fondle and play with her breasts. He puts his tongue, still cold from the ice in his mouth, on one nipple and sucks hard.

The bite contrasts directly to the softness from before and Alyssa's head drops back as she lets out a muffled scream, body shivering against the pain in her tit, panting harshly as Misha's tongue slides over the damaged skin. Eyes wet with tears, she manages to keep them there as she nods in understanding to his order. "eth 'ir, uh huh." At this point, with the swirling heat coursing through her, Alyssa will agree to just about anything, and that heat only increases as she watches him, the ice slipping past his lips a moment before he finds her now-exposed nipple. Arching into the sensation, slender fingers flex as the pins and needles feeling grows - only a mild distraction from Misha's mouth.

He suckles that breast, pulling out another ice cube, and then begins to give the other breast the same treatment with his mouth, even as he holds the ice between finger and thumb, trailing a line down her stomach right to her exposed pussy, passing over her clit and sliding right inside her, fucking her with the ice cube as he continues to pay homage to her lovely cleavage. The scream has heightened his excitement tenfold. He wants to hear more screams from her.

Stomach muscles pull in tight as her body tries to process the difference in temperatures - both making her shiver, her tanned skin prickling with bumps. Alyssa pushes forward in the chair, arching as much as the ropes will allow, needing more of Misha's mouth on her and she begs with every sound, every whimper that she has in her, urging Misha forward with soft cries of pleasure. The ice hits her clit and she shudders hard, the whimpering turning to cries of shock as her body jerks against the cold as the ice sinks deep inside. "Mmmph! 'old! Nghh!"

"Well fuck yes, it's cold--it's ice, silly," Misha chastises her with a grin, finally pulling out the ice and popping into his mouth to crunch on. "Mmmm," he adds, with a sly look at Alyssa, tasting her juices. He crouches down low, eyes still on hers, a devilish look on his face. "I can smell you. You smell . . . so . . . fucking . . . good." He presses his face right down against her pussy, breathing in deeply, just teasing her with the warmth of his breath. The sight of her inner thigh attracts him as well. Glancing up at the mark left on Alyssa's breast, he picks a spot on her opposite thigh. And bites down there to leave another purpling mark.

Dark eyes glare up at Misha at the sarcasm dripping from his voice and she makes a face behind the gag, not that he can see it really, but it definitely makes her feel better as she wrinkles her nose and repeats his comment to herself in mocking fashion. She watches him dip down, his head lowering to her crotch and her eyes fall to her tits. Before she can think on the bite mark there, the purple bruise of teeth marks already starting to show, another pain hits and her legs stiffen against the ropes as she screams, panting furiously against the knotted gag in her mouth. "I' 'urths! Agh 'urths!" If she wasn't so amazingly turned on, she might very well laugh at her own lisp.

She's cute, Misha decides, with her little statements of the obvious. But he's done with the light teasing. Rising up to his feet he turns serious, watching her, letting the tension build again. With his hands flat, palms facing down, he suddenly slaps both her tits in a swift downward stroke, like a spank. He does it again. And again. There's actually a reason for this, beyond the fact that he likes slapping skin and causing pain. It's bringing blood to the surface. And he plans to see that blood in a moment. "You're going to hurt a lot more here, soon," he promises her.

Tears, full and steady, fall down Alyssa's cheeks as strike after strike falls against her tits, each one bringing more and more heat, catching the bite mark to make the bruised tissue stand out even more as she screams out. To the normal observer, her pain might seem too much, her screams pointless and heart-breaking, but to Alyssa's own ears her screams are music and the heat in her body an addicting drug. She's craved this for so long, craved the pain and the pleasure, and even as the tears fall and she cries out to Misha, the seat under her grows damp with her juices.

The screams are just making him crazy with want, so sweet, and so responsive. The tears, he admits to himself, are also a turn-on. But tears are a tricky thing. They may, or may not be a danger sign. And fuck, but he's only begun, and he doesn't want to stop. Fingering the knife in his pocket, Misha looks carefully at her, trying to read things, trying to interpret what his instincts are telling him. Everything feels like it's okay. "I'm not going to stop because you're crying," he tells Alyssa, just so there's no confusion. "You have a safeword. That's the only way I'm stopping." He's reminded her, and now she can't say she forgot. He pulls out a lockback knife, and flicks it open, right by her ear, so she can hear the sound of the lock clicking into place, know that he's got a dangerous weapon in his hand now, and he intends to use it on her.

Alyssa looks up at him, her mind screaming, body straining against the ropes as he eyes her. She's witnessed that look and the fact he's hesitating fills her with panic. NO! Please! Don't stop! She's further than she's been in ages, closer to any sort of actual release than she can remember and the fact that it could stop right here and now has her wanting to scream at him. But, he speaks and Alyssa's tears become that of relief as she looks up and nods in understanding and silent thanks. Misha pulls out the knife and she freezes, chest pulsing with every breath as dark eyes lock on the weapon, jumping as she hears the blade click into place. "'eethe! 'eeethe!" She knows there's no way he can understand her pleading as she turns to take in the length of the blade.

This one's a good four and a half inch blade, plain edge, high grade carbon steel. Misha touches his thumb to the blade to test the sharpness, and as he suspected, it's pretty fucking sharp. He smiles, letting her see the blade, holding it up for her, and then he brings it in close, lightly grazing the skin of her throat, down her collarbone, across her chest, just so that she can feel the fine edge, the coolness of the metal. He lays it flat against the top of her breast. That's a pretty sight. And then, with a purposeful motion, he cuts a line across the top of her breast and checks it. Only a superficial scratch. He'll have to use more pressure to get blood. He does the motion again, and is pleased when the second cut starts to immediately bead with droplets of red. There's a decent start.

Shivering as the blade finds her skin, touching her throat, chest, then skimming across the swell of her breast, Alyssa locks her eyes on Misha. She's putting an unbelievable trust in this man as he stands before her with a weapon that, were he to choose, could end her right there. Oddly enough, she's not afraid, not in the way that wants to make you run, but in the way that makes you never want to leave. Alyssa's eyes are on him as the first mark comes and she groans out, eyes fluttering as she struggles to watch, wanting to keep her eyes on Misha's. He concentrates, eyes narrowing a bit and she looks down to the scrape just in time to watch the blade draw across her tit once more, the skin easily giving way under the pressure. "Ngh! 'urths! Agh 'od!"

Misha smiles, watching a single drop of blood slides down over Alyssa's tit. He looks her in the eyes again, still smiling, and then contemplates her gag. It had its place but . . . "I think I want to hear what you're saying," he comments, and with a quick flick of the knife, the handkerchief is cut, and the gag falls away. He licks his lips and moves on to the other breast, and with a much more sure movement this time, cuts again, letting the blood well up, more blood than the first two cuts. "Symmetry," he says in a casual tone, by way of explanation.

The smile on Misha's face brings shivers to Alyssa's body in all the right ways. It's clear the man enjoys this and even more clear that they are nowhere near an end to their playtime. Nodding to him, she stills as the knife nears her face. There's a certain surety, a knowledge and trust that he won't harm her face, at least not that way, and soon the gag falls free. Alyssa works her jaw a bit before taking a full breath. "Thank you, Sir. Thank you for releaaaghhh!" The cut seems deeper, fuller, and as she looks down she sees nearly matching crescent marks at the swell of her tits, blood pooling at each. "It hurts, Sir. Thank you...thank you, Sir."

The cuts really aren't that deep--no deeper than they need to be to draw blood. But Misha knows they feel deep, that the bite of the knife is hot and intense, because he's tried it on himself. His cock twitches hard at her scream, senses heightened at the sight of her, at the smell of the blood, everything. He feels high, but also very much in control. Which is a good thing. He raises the knife to his mouth and licks a droplet of blood off it, sensually. Then with his free hand, he pounds her upper arm a few times. Raising blood again. "You're welcome."

</i>So this is what it feels like</i>, she thinks to herself, watching him lick the blood, her blood, from the knife. This is what total, consuming pleasure feels like and it's only now, now as she watches her blood ooze to the surface of the cuts, does she realize how absolutely lacking her life was with Duke. "Can I taste? Please?" Perhaps it's the way he takes the drop to his tongue, maybe it's the simple fact that he's the one that pulled the blood to the surface in the first place, but Alyssa wants to taste what he finds so pleasing.

The request is a little surprising, but then again, this whole evening has been surprising in the very best of ways. Misha nods, holding the knife to Alyssa's arm, making a cut there, and then offering her the blade to lick. "Careful. It's very sharp." And isn't that a hot sight, watching her lick her own blood.

"Nngha!" Flinching against the beautiful sting to her arm, Alyssa watches as the thick red blood seeps to the top and Misha brings the knife to her lips. "Yes, Sir, of course." With a soft sigh, a pink tongue swipes gently across the blade to
capture the drops there. "Mmm, thank you. I can taste the metal of the blade."

"Yes," Misha says softly, working on Alyssa's other arm, first with several slaps, and then another cut. He looks at the sight of the blood running, and belatedly grabs a towel to catch anything before it hits the carpet. "I need to find out what other rooms they offer here," he comments, taking a drop of blood sliding down her arm onto his finger and sucking on it before it can hit the floor. "We could be messier next time." He has visions of taking a little rubber flogger, of flogging her and watching the blood splatter everywhere.

Endorphins flood her system as she watches Misha work the blood to the surface and she let's out a needy moan as the blade slices across the tender flesh of her arm and he hips roll downward against the hard chair. Entranced, Alyssa watches the drops trickle down to leave stained trails in their wake.

"Messier? That could definitely be good," she pants out as her eyes lock on the way Misha sucks at his finger. "We can't here?"

"I don't think the club would appreciate blood in the carpet, on the walls . . . so no, not this room. I'll leave it for something to look forward to another time," Misha says, chuckling. He wipes the knife on the towel and sets it aside to clean later. "Later," he decides, grabbing another towel to spread out on the floor. "Right now, I want to fuck you. And I promise, the pain is not over." There's always the fun of cleanup. He puts his hands on her, smearing the blood, doing a little finger painting on her with it.

Her dark eyes widen with a bit of shock as Misha's words hit her. "Floor...and, uhm...walls?" Looking around she turns back to Misha as he tells her what's to come, her mind still wondering how much blood it would take to actually splatter.

With a smile, she looks to the towel then back to Misha. "The floor, Sir?" There's a definite wicked edge to his words. "I'm trusting there's more to come, Sir." Trusting you.

Smiling at the feel of his fingers on her, she looks down to watch him, to watch her skin become tinted reddish-brown. "Does Sir always play with what he plans to fuck?" Alyssa tries to hide the grin and fails miserably.

Misha laughs. "Usually," he allows, writing 'slut' with more of the blood, right across Alyssa's tits. "I often play with my food too." And with that he licks one of the cuts, sucking on it, drawing more of the coppery taste up.

His finger moves with purpose and she looks down to see the word before turning eyes, dark and full of emotion back to Misha. "Ohh Sir. Yes." She wants to be that for him, purring as she pushes her tit upward toward his warm mouth. "Soo wet," she whispers out.

"I think that's my invitation," Misha murmurs, doing a little more to 'clean up' the blood with his mouth, just so they don't horribly ruin the towels. There's going to be some rubbed off anyways; he knows that. He begins working the ropes off Alyssa's thighs, then the ropes around her waist, then shoulders, leaving the ankle ties for last, licking, sucking every inch of skin as he works.

Misha's mouth moves over her skin, wet heat that brings wave after wave of sheer pleasure as she feels the ropes slowly leave her body. It takes a moment for her to realize that her arms are free but the moment she does, arms snake around Misha's neck. "Sir has an amazing mouth. So do I," she teases and leans forward to lick across his shoulder.

Well that has some nice connotations to it, Misha thinks. But right now, he wants something else. Finally untying Alyssa's ankles, he pulls her off the chair and onto the floor, making sure the knife is out of the way, straddling her as he pulls a condom out of his pocket. Always prepared. He's prepared for anything, from her complete submission to a fight.

Hitting the floor with a thud, Alyssa grunts out as Misha moves to straddle her; he's heavier than he looks. She pulls her legs tight together and smiles to herself, wanting to see just how strong he really is. There's a dark tone to her voice as she shifts under him, pushing against the floor. It's been too long - years, since she's felt this way, wanting someone to take her hard. "Even a slut won't give it away all the time."

"Oh I hoped you'd say that," Misha says darkly, just before he backhands her. Using her moment of disorientation, he quickly pulls off his shirt and unzips his jeans, moving down to force her legs apart and kneel between them. The jeans go down just enough to get his dick out, then he's sliding on the rubber. He grabs both her hands with one of his, pressing them down above her head as he prepares to take her.

Alyssa's head snaps to the side as Misha's hand makes contact. "Ungh! Hell!" She fights now, struggling under him as he pins her arms and she let's out a hard cry as the rug rakes over the cuts on her arms. "Get off! You're heavy!" Were an onlooker to see them, they'd miss the heat in Alyssa's eyes, the flare of her petite nose as she tries to pull free, kicking out with her feet.

"Sir! Please!" Suddenly, his weight is off her and he's forcing her legs open. "Sir, no!" There's no hiding it though, her body needs what Misha is ready to give. "You'll hurt me! Too big! Sir, you're too big!" She can feel the sting from the slap to her face and it pairs beautifully with the throbbing at the top of her tits as she smiles to herself. Perfection.

Oh now she's fighting? But Misha remembers what she'd said earlier, that she said 'no' when she meant 'yes.' And he's already reminded her once about her safeword. So this now is just another serving of dessert as far as he's concerned, and he doesn't hold back as he pins her with his weight again, grinning evilly. "Liar. Though you flatter me," he says huskily, as he lines up and starts pushing his cock into her soaking wet pussy, easily thrusting in. His fingers dig in hard to her wrists, making sure she doesn't have at least her hands to fight him with.

Alyssa's eyes widen in mock fear and she bucks up under him, yanking at her arms at the same time. His weight on her is amazing, tangible and controlling and she loves every brush of his hips against hers. Even as she struggles, her body betrays the fight that she puts up and as he pushes into her, Alyssa's back bows up from the floor, her head drops back and she opens to his cock, juices coating his length and her thighs. "Sirrrr! Agh yes! Please, Sir! Please! Need this, need this soooahhh!" Lifting upward to meet his thrusts, she yanks against his hands that still hold hers. "Lemme go!" The war inside her flares - battle with him until he takes her by complete force or give in to the need that threatens to consume her very soul.

It's difficult to slap a woman when you're fucking them, so instead Misha grabs Alyssa by the hair, pulling hard, using that as another means to control her. He's not gentle with his thrusts, either; she's driving him crazy, and for once he's allowing himself to go full tilt, no holding back. He finds a spot on her neck to bite down hard as he fucks her, enjoying every second of it.

"Sir! Stop!" Alyssa lets out a cry as Misha's fingers wrap in her hair to yank hard, struggling against his hold she actually feels several strands pull free from her scalp and a cried gasp of pain leaves her throat. She's never felt anything like this, never had anyone take her without holding back, afraid to hurt her petite frame, but Misha takes everything he can with each bruising thrust of his hips. "Please Sir! I'll do anything! It hurts!" The motion and rubbing of his body against hers brings fresh blood from the cuts to her tits and she's vaguely aware of the trickle of blood racing down her side.

When he bites down, there's a blinding flash of pain and a shrill cry before the heat consumes her as she feels the soft flesh in his teeth give way.

"Are you going to come for me, little bitch? You've been so wet for me the entire evening. Ask for it, girl. Tell me you want it," Misha growls, licking at the spot where he's bitten her, aware that they're both smeared with her blood as well as his sweat and her juices. It's scary, skirting the edge of decency in his head, what they're doing, but he's finally been given the chance to try it and see if it really works. So he'll plunge over that edge if he needs to. And at the moment, it's more about controlling his orgasm from arriving too soon than really worrying if things are all right here.

Alyssa knows it's true. From the moment Misha began talking in the bar, she's been ready, her pussy soaking wet with the result of that need. "Yes Sir! Oh, please yes!" Grunting with every push, dark eyes open and what Alyssa sees nearly takes her breath. Misha's eyes are wild, pupils wide as he takes her in, his chest is smeared with her blood as is his lips, and she wonders if there's ever been a more arousing and intoxicating sight. "Let me come for you. Your slut needs to come, please Sir!" Muscles tighten and she wraps her legs around him, urging him to take her deeper, harder.

If this were a long term thing, he might not let her come so easily, might keep her on the edge for days like this. But right now he wants to come and this isn't a long term thing yet. "Come on, then, fucking come!" he orders, holding her around the waist so that he can raise her breast up to his mouth, biting down where one of the cuts is, thrusting hard and fast.

Permission to come! She's longed to hear those words, longed to have that control over her body given to someone who would take it, and Misha does. "Thank you! Thank you, Sir, ahhhh yess! Thank aghhh!" The bite is hard, violent and pairs perfectly with the thrusts into her and Alyssa gives over everything she's held back in a rush of tears and release, body shuddering under Misha as she comes hard, juices flowing with the hard pulses of her muscles.

Misha hears her words, her cries, and feels the walls of her clenching hard on him, and easily loses it, coming with a harsh cry, pumping her through the white hot pleasure until he can't any more, until he feels emptied and boneless. He rests after, propped on his elbows and still inside of her, breathing hard until his heart can find a more normal pace and his thoughts can find order again.

She can't breathe, can barely pull a focused thought, but with her hands free, she slips her arms around Misha's body. Her entire body is smeared - a mixture of their sweat and her blood. For the first time since she first served under Duke, Alyssa relaxes against the skittering little jolts of current that still course through her body. With Duke, Alyssa knew how to react after a scene that went even remotely close to intense, but Misha is new, different and she lays there quietly against him, groomed nails trailing lightly over his skin as she waits to see what state his mind will be in.

Once things have settled somewhat, Misha's aware what a mess they are. And he knows there are certain things he needs to take care of, in short order. Kissing her gently, he slips out, tying off the used condom to leave on the dirty towels. "Shower," he says softly, in complete contrast to the harsh aggressive tones he was using only moments before. Carefully he wraps his arms around Alyssa, and picks her up to carry her to the shower.

Whimpering lightly as he slips from her body, Alyssa smiles at the kiss but it's the gentle word, the soft touch and the way he picks her up that has her crumbling under him even more than the hard and forceful touches had. It can't be, she thinks to herself as she wraps slender arms around around Misha's neck. The scene takes a giant leap from wonderful to completely perfect. "Yes, Sir," she purrs out against his throat, pressing a kiss there.

Once in the bathroom, Misha gets the water started in the shower, holding Alyssa up until he can set her down on the tiled seat in the shower--nice feature, and undoubtedly just for occasions like this. The water is warm but not too hot. After rinsing himself off a bit, he takes a soft washcloth and a bit of soap, and helps wash her clean, rewarding her with smiles and a kiss now and again. She deserves it. "How are you doing?" By the look on her face, pretty good, it appears.

Alyssa can't stop watching him. He's lean but toned and she doesn't try to hide the fact that she's more than enjoying watching the show in front of her. She'd given up hope really, didn't think scenes, or men, like Misha could exist - able to give pain and tenderness and both be equally given. Hissing out softly as the water washes over her cuts, she smiles softly up to this man tending to her. "Stings some, but 'm good. Better than, actually." It's odd, watching the water color with the tint of her own blood, but soothing just the same. For the first time since she can recall she's sated and calm inside, mind and body finding exactly what it needs.

"Good," Misha says, smiling. He goes so far as to wash her hair, enjoying the feel of it, enjoying this part, the aftercare, just as much as he did the more violent parts. Once they're both rinsed clean, he turns off the shower and towels them both down. A little evil glint flashes in his eyes. "Now there is one more fun part. It's best to sterilize those cuts and bandage them. Wouldn't want them infected." And of course he's a sadist. He's not going to choose the non-stinging options.

Oh my god, Alyssa thinks to herself, this can't get any better. The feel of his fingers on her as he washes her hair is almost hypnotizing and when he stops, it takes her a moment to actually gather herself from sensation overload. While Alyssa knows what she wants and how she wants to feel, there are definite parts of an scene that have never occurred to her - the aftercare being one. Most marks given her by Duke never needed much more than lotion, so as Misha speaks, Alyssa looks up with a purely innocent face, "The antibiotic ointment stuff?"

Misha laughs, grinning impishly at her. "No. That sissy stuff? That's not for Dom's like me. No . . . I was thinking straight rubbing alcohol should do the trick." He lets her sit in the shower while he finds the first aid stuff, taking out the rubbing alcohol, some cotton balls, gauze bandages and medical tape. Soaking a cotton ball, he lets her see it, slowly reaching out. "Big breath now," he says, holding it an inch above her skin. "This'll hurt like a motherfucker." And with that, he rubs the cotton ball over the cut. Hard, soaking it.

Alyssa watches with wide eyes though she never makes a sound the whole time Misha works. She's only just met this man, but already he seems to have proven two things to her - he knows what he's doing and that she can trust him. "Sir? Won't the soap from the shower be..." Alyssa's words stop and her eyes grow wide in pain as the antiseptic settles into the cut, "Aeee! God!" The sting comes and so does Alyssa's urine as the warmth of the shower and the pain from the alcohol causes her bladder to release.

Well that's not something Misha expected. Piss play isn't really his thing, but it's not like they discussed things like this, and so he tries to mask his discomfort--they're in a shower, after all, and it's not like he really has to come into contact with it. "No, soap will not cut it," he says, preparing another cotton ball. After all, it's unlikely she's got more to release. "My mouth was on those cuts. And human mouths are very dirty. Trust me; this is better." But he waits to see if she has something to say about that.

Alyssa sees the look on Misha's face and color floods her face and chest as she ducks her head, pressing her thighs closed. "I'm so sorry. I...didn't expect that. It won't happen again, Sir." Utterly mortified at the lack of control over her own body, Alyssa keeps her head down as she waits for the scolding she's sure is coming.

Surprised again, Misha reaches out to gently pat Alyssa on the shoulder. "Don't apologize--it's all right." He chuckles a little. "I just wasn't expecting it either." Actually, the more that he thinks about it, the hotter it is--he made a woman lose control of bodily functions. Now that's power. "We can talk about it more later if you like." Humiliation may not be his main kink, but the blush on her face is rather becoming. He waves the cotton ball. "Ready?" Without waiting for her answer, he begins cleaning the second cut.

She looks up at the soft touch, the heat still showing bright in her cheeks and nods to the question he poses. "I'd like that," she says quietly, "thank you." She wonders just how much more there will be to talk over.

Eyeing the cotton, Alyssa's still mid nod as the wet cotton comes in direct contact with the next cut and she let's out a strangled cry, eyes widening as they lock on Misha. "It stiiinnngs!"

"Yes it does," Misha sighs happily. He's sated from the earlier sex, but this is still just so nice. And he's glad to see she's not freaking out over the whole pee thing. "Three more. Then you can rest." He sets to work on the cut on her other breast, knowing this one will even be worse; it's a deeper cut.

Alyssa tries to gather herself, taking a deep breath at the thought of three more cuts. "Aaagh!". Her cry echoes in the shower, bouncing back to her own ears as she stares wide-eyed, panting at the deep sting in her breast. "Sir, please! Please!" Twisting on the seat, she looks down as the alcohol drips down her flesh.

"Two more," Misha whispers. This is getting to him more than he'd thought; he's half hard again. But he knows she's tired; he's tired too. So it's unlikely anything in that department will happen this evening. Perhaps in the morning. He works on the first cut on Alyssa's arm, which shouldn't be quite as bad. The arm isn't as sensitive as the breast.

As Alyssa's eyes catch the drops of alcohol that dribbled down to mix with the droplets of water, they also catch sight of something else - a very beautiful, half-hard cock. Ignoring the sting at her arm, she grins shyly, "Sir? Does my cries please you?"

"Obviously," Misha says with a little smirk. He takes the last ball of cotton soaked in rubbing alcohol. "One more, Alyssa. And then to bed." What they do in bed is entirely up to how they feel. He cleans and bandages the last cut.

Hissing out softly at the final sting, Alyssa smiles up at him, eyes dark with the heat still flowing inside her. "Glad Sir finds my pain exciting," she quips out, only half teasing, as her eyes flit from his cock to his face, "and pleasurable."

With the last bandage on, Misha turns on the shower for just a few seconds to rinse the floor, and then he guides Alyssa back into the bedroom and into bed, crawling in under the covers beside her. He reaches over for the ice and water, pouring some and offering it to her. "Oh I find it very exciting," he assures her. "You're beautiful in pain."

Alyssa takes the offered glass with a grin, sipping the cool water she finally realizes just how parched she is. "Thank you, I didn't realize I was so thirsty." Wiggling down in the bedding as she passes the glass back to Misha, she rolls toward him. "Am I?" she asks, eyes searching his face, "Am I really? I'd honestly begun to think there was some strange reason I couldn't get Duke to do anything with me."

Misha looks back at her, sipping a little water of his own. "I'm sorry, but the more I hear about Duke, the less I'm liking him. Duke obviously wasn't a sadist. I am. There's a big difference." Duke might have been dominant; he'll give him that. But definitely not a sadist, or he would have understood things from Alyssa's side as well.

"He wasn't bad, he loved me in his own way. He was the most gentle man I've ever known, he just couldn't give anything other than that gentleness." Alyssa reaches out, fingers trailing softly of Misha's skin as she props herself up on an elbow. "He never understood that I needed to scream, to cry even." Cocking her head a bit, Alyssa gives a tender smile, "And that's you? A sadist?"

Misha nods. "I have a tender side also. But sexually, yes. A sadist." He reaches over to take her hand and kiss it. "And a tired one at that. Sleep for a bit?" That scene, while amazing, was also completely exhausting.

With a soft giggle at the kiss to her hand, Alyssa nods through a yawn, tucks both hands under her chin then curls into Misha's chest without waiting to be invited there. "Sensual sadist," she purrs out against him as her eyes flutter closed, "kind of like the sound of that."

Old friends and the new life?

Thu, 26 Feb 2009 04:43:20 GMT

[Current - Journal entry - accidentally left open]

I ran into two old friends today. We used to be so much alike that people teased that we were triplets separated at birth. There was just one problem - I was on my way to the club and dressed in a red leather corset and a thin little collar. Maybe it would have been different if I'd actually been able to give a reason for the outfit. There they stood in their bright Rodeo Drive clothes and there I stood looking like Pretty Woman before she became classy - high heels, short skirt and corset. Jess just stared, too damn shocked to speak and Julie kept asking how I was, like I've lost my mind. I couldn't figure out what to even say! I don't think "Hey, how are you? I'm on my way to find someone to torture me," would have worked very well. Come to think of it, I think it would have made Jess pass clean out.

Of course, once I got to the club I could have been in a damn parka for all that mattered. Was my second time there and people barely looked at me. It's enough to give a girl a complex. There are times it's like they look over the top of my head. I'm short! I'm not invisible. I miss talking to Duke. Hell, I miss sex. I miss my little bed at the end of his and the way he'd walk me around the grounds. I know I wasn't totally happy there, but it was comfortable and he tried. Maybe that would've been enough again.

Pup/Mun bio

Sun, 15 Feb 2009 05:15:13 GMT

Name: Alyssa Jayne Milano (Lyssa)

Journal: est_alyssa
Mun name/nick/handle: Angel (will tell ya the real one in IM).
Mun journal: until_you_burn
AIM: estAlyssa
E-mail: Mymusemail@gmail.com
When you can be reached and preferred method: I'm usually around every night from about 7 my time until whenever I faceplant on the keyboard. On the weekends, I basically don't sleep. You can usually find me on until way late into the night/morning. I'm a US Central Time Zone chic, and am willing to play by AIM, GoogleDocs, whatever.

Pup's physical info:

Age: 37 (DOB 12-19-72)
Height: 5'1/2" (yes, she's proud of the 1/2 inch)
Hair: Dark brown
Eyes: Dark brown to black depending on emotion/mood
Build: Petite build weighing on average 105 - 110lbs.
Any marks: Angel on her left ankle, a garland of flowers around her right ankle, Orbourus (snake) on her inner right wrist, the Hindu symbol for depth of heart and wisdom, on back of her neck, rosary beads on her right shoulder, a cross at her lower back and a fairy kneeling in grass below and to the right of her belly button.
Pup's location: Los Angeles
Pup's orientation: Bi Submissive
Pup's kinks: breath play, edge play, floggers, being tied, bit gags, non-con, pain, clamps, bdsm, toys - plus many more she's only dreamed of. If it isn't in the squicks - it's a kink.
Pup's squicks: Pedophilia, necrophelia, and not so much a squick but she's a bit claustrophobic.
Pup's safeword: Flute (though she's never used it)
Pup's hobbies: She loves gardening topless. She can play the flute, guitar and piano. She loves reading and listening to music as well as meditation, photography, yoga, riding horses, writing poetry and dancing.

Game connections: Starred in Charmed with julian and drewfuller, est_misha, zane, ericdane, odedfehr.

Pup's bio:

Alyssa Jayne Milano is the eldest child of Thomas M. and Lin Milano and the older sister of Cory.

Alyssa made her professional acting debut at age eight in the role of July in the Tony-winning Broadway musical, "Annie". She spent over a year playing the role in the tour before returning to New York to appear off-Broadway in the first American musical adaptation, "Jane Eyre" at the theater Opera Music Institute, Wendy Wasserstein´s one-act Play, "Tender Offer" at the New York Ensemble Theater, "All Night Long" at the Second Stage and "Warning Signals" at the Manhattan Theater Club.

Child actress and model Alyssa Milano rose to fan-magazine fame in the role of Samantha Micelli on the TV series Who's the Boss? (1984-1993) which ran for 8 years in which time Alyssa won three Youth In Film awards for "Best Supporting Actress". She did her best to break her wholesome image by appearing in adult roles calling for heavy breathing and come-hither glances: perhaps her most spectacular appearance along these lines was in the role of the estimable Amy Fisher in the the 1992 TV movie Casualties of Love: The Long Island Lolita Story.

Alyssa took on the role of Phoebe Halliwell on Charmed (1998-2006) where she met, began dating and became the submissive to Duke Vincent, who helped her to acquire her membership into Est. Staying with him for just over three years, Alyssa wanted and needed to be taken to a place that Duke couldn't take her, so eventually they parted. Making sure Alyssa was well taken care of financially, they called an amicable split and Alyssa moved to her loft of her own in Los Angeles.

Alyssa lives as Misha Collins' slave though at present time they each still have their own residences due to Misha's, she is fully owned by him though no ceremony has taken place. She's free to play so long as the person gets permission from her Master.

IMBD Bio - Stopping after Charmed

Mun Squicks: My pups seem to care less what mine are. lol
Mun Kinks: Any and all
Type of Characters Pup Likes: She loves someone who knows what they want and knows exactly how to get it. She's a flirt and loves someone who will flirt and tease back.
Play Situation: Pup is ready, willing and able to play. Can play sexually with permission granted by her Master. Usually on every night - if you see me on, I can play.
Last Updated: 6-05-10