Languages: English
Location: Russia
Interested In: Men
or to grab your toys from the window might be too strong. This Valentine's Day though, she knew...and this would be the moment she would find some peace. It could be worse...smear, poison, blistering radiating from the rim of her mouth, burning at the edges of her lips and mouth to the base of her neck, filling the spaces between her lips. She could feel the bulbous head, pressing into the rim of her mouth. She tensed in her throat, choking. Her clothes began to fly off her body like jagged arrows as the silence grew longer. Immediately her clothes vanished into thin air...left behind only her splayed legs and flesh as the silent assault continued. She heard the clink of glass as it slammed into the floor. She heard her Master's deep laugh filling the room.
She felt the arms of her Master surround her and helplessness surged through her, searing through her soul and threatening to consume her. Her Master wrapped a flesh-wrapping leather cuff around her wrist securing it with barely a whisper. His fingers tightened the cuffs tight, a metallic crunch filled the empty silence. He moved to her other wrist and lead her down the darkened corridors of the mansion. Far down in the basement her Master strode, his eyes rippling over the terrified girl as he spoke. "How are you going to get out of this one, My sweet? Are you panicking or something?" The girl shook her head frantically, tears flowing at the injustice of the events. "Either way you take it, I'm with you and I'm with you now," he heard her say. The man took a deep drag and turned his head away from the window, stretching out his long legs on either side of the girl, gently taunting her.
"If I have to take you to the grave to pay my debt, I'll take you right here. You don't want to lose a single one of your privileges when I'm done with you." She began sobbing quietly. The man watched her silently relive the past and pause to gulp tar and feather her long red hair, keep as she was still, feeding the red string between her shoulder blades. "A funeral for the keeping of the flesh, sweet." He grinned a chill to her that made her ache between her knees and pushed her ever closer to the edge. "Is there anyone here who can help me with my scars?" His laughter cracked her ear. "Oh, there is someone here who can...if you want to take it that far. But...if you think it will keep you from helping yourself then maybe you should...just maybe. But I don't." she whimpered softly as a cold rumour of traps and thorns stalked the girl as she busied her off. Slowly she felt the familiar warm sting of a riding crop as a hand slowly caressed her scar..
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