Beauty and Her Beast Ch. 02 - Sex Stories

Beauty and Her Beast Ch. 02

... sharp pricking in the middle of my back. The start point of a circle that will radiate outward, just like my cane tracks radiate. He's so careful, and so controlled. I breathe in. Exhale.

He lowered his face between my legs, so I could feel the warmth of his breath, lapping me with his tongue. "I can smell how badly you want cock. You don't understand how crazy your smell and taste drive me." I whine, arching, wanting more. He chuckles at my reaction.

Then another small, sharp stab of pain. This time, he wipes me down around both areas. It's a sort of mild pain, and I feel...this delicious floating feeling come over me. Was I really so afraid of this? It's always like this: I'm afraid I won't be able to handle something, that it will be too much. But it's never too much, and once I work through the fear of failure, it becomes...I work through the next level of pain, and the next, and so on...until the pain takes me to a place that is euphoric and ecstatic. Like being in heaven and dancing among the stars. And my fear of his possessiveness subsides. What does it matter, when it comes with this? And when he keeps me so safe and controlled? And another small bolt of sharpness. Inhale. Exhale. And another. Repeat...

"Maybe I understand a little, Sir, because I feel that way, too. Like I could drown myself in you, and that I always want to be with you, talking to you, wrapped up in your arms. Owww." That spot hurt a little more, because it is a bit more boney than the ...

... last. The needles are thicker than the needles used for my fine line tattoos, it's the drilling sensation of a tattoo gun that feels so weird...this pain isn't the same. I want to grit my teeth at the strange sensation of having something go under my skin like that though. But no, I will bear it and not show him weakness. Inhale. Exhale. And again, and again, before he wipes me down with the cool wet towel.

"It's the possessiveness that's hard to explain to you. It's a very dark, masculine thing, and I'm not particularly proud of it." I shiver as he stabs a particularly painful needle into me. Inhale. Exhale. I'm a pain whore who needs her holes pounded and her body tortured. Stab. Inhale. Stab. Exhale. More sharp pain. Inhale. This is the 'torture' part. I suck air as another needle goes through me. He wipes me again.

"I guess that's why we have wedding rings, to signal 'belonging' to someone to the rest of the world. It doesn't seem that abnormal, Sir, when I think about it, and how you said it's a very masculine thing. It's a good thing for me. It makes me feel...safe and protected, and I want to feel that way. It's like, you've met my greatest need."

"Safe and protected by someone who is so violent toward you?" There's another. Inhale...you get it.

"But it's controlled violence. Like, when I start panicking, when I first got here and a few minutes ago, your violence calms me and brings me back. I want it, I really do. You grabbing me and throwing me on your bed ...