Beauty and Her Beast Ch. 02 - Sex Stories

Beauty and Her Beast Ch. 02

... perverse, so twisted, so painfully violent...what could go deeper than that?

And then he pours a lot of the cool cleaning alcohol over my back, and wipes me down thoroughly. I hear him pull off the gloves, and his hand is between my legs. "How are you always so fucking soaked?"

James' Perspective

I take her hand, pocket something, and walk to the full-length mirror in the darkened hallway. I let her walk slightly before me, so I can admire the designs on her back. Circles in red and gold, gorgeous against her skin as I thought it would be. The highlighting red-tipped needles were longer, the shorter gold ones made up the bulk of the design...then a smaller half-circle bloomed near her left shoulder, and another half-circle near the right side of her waist. Then the purple and red stripes. I feel an artist's pride over my twisted creation, and used her body as a canvas for displaying my sadism.

She's looking at herself in the mirror. Her face is clean, no make up, those big, shadowy eyes, and that silky black hair falls straight around it. Then, her eyes lower to her chest. She gasps, her eyes wide. Her reaction, ah, it's what I want. She knows what form my pain and control take, and that she has to take what I give if wants to be with me. Then her eyes meet mine in the mirror, and I feel happiness at knowing she likes it and will come back willingly for more. There's acceptance and love written all over her face. And for me, there's also the possessive pride of ...

... marking her as mine. It's hard play for her, but it's just the beginning for us. There are words I haven't reconciled her to, no piercings or clit or nipple torture yet, other depravities left to explore. But right now, looking at her back, her ass, her tits, and her thighs - the violent sadist in me feels satiated. I imagine the way a lion might over their fresh kill, proud, relaxed.

Her tits are, well, I guess she hasn't looked down at them after I showed her what I did with the knife. They're striped in purple, with welts rising here and there. And the knife wounds, there are beadlets of dried blood scabbing over, but they're healing cleanly and shouldn't scar. I twirl her around, showing her back, ass, and thighs. Evenly spaced, deeply purple stripes, thicker over her ass, thinning out, with the space between them growing, down to the middle of her thighs, above her stockings. I want her to see the control I have with my cane, the way her stripes go deeper and harder in the center of her ass and thin out over her thighs. Then of course, the painful mandala. 101 needles piercing her skin. Her body is an ode to my cruelty. All the evidence of what she'll let me do to her, and still come crawling back for more.

She's quietly processing as she looks over herself. She looks over her left shoulder, then her right. "They're so pretty, Sir. It must have taken you so much time to plan this. I mean all of it, our meals and the flowers and everything. The mandala design though, ...