Check Mates: Story 03

I stopped just short of breaking her skin. The blood rushed to the surface of her flesh, making it red, shining in the darkened cell. Her limbs quivered, but this was nothing for her, if I left her now it would soon drive her to madness. I dragged my nails lightly over the risen streaks, almost in a ticklish caress that had her moaning and thrashing against her restraints. This was not enough; she needed to cry out like a wounded animal.

Most masters would think me mad. In becoming a tool to Mariette's pain, lavishing her with what she desired, I became her slave. At the end of each session I could not use her body to gratify my sexual desires. Instead she filled me with something not unlike the adrenaline fuelled bloodlust of the battlefield. A surge of life, fighting off finality. Her need for pain, for me was infinite, constant and unchanging.

I replaced the cat-and-nine-tails for a cane made from Chinese bamboo, its natural ridges and springy wood set it apart from the others with its vicious bite and wonderful snap which echoed from its hollow frame. Taking my stance before Mariette's front she watched as I reared my cane holding hand back before bringing it down on her shoulder. She hissed through clenched teeth, but otherwise remained unmoved. I let it fall again, aiming and hitting the same spot. She yelped. On the third she cried out. Satisfied I moved on.

Though she wasn't moved by sexual caresses of her erogenous zones, Mariette's breasts and sex were just as sensitive as any other slave's with just as many nerve endings as respondent to my ministrations. I focused my loving attention on her ample charms. I struck first below and the above her left breast and repeated the action on the right. Each hit sending a jolt of sharp, tingling pain through her body, her red outlined breasts jiggled beautifully.

I shifted my focus and the target of my cane on her hardened nipples. The cane whipped through the air and the very barest tip flicked its sharp edge of her engorged skin. I left no breadth of time between my strikes and repeated the torment on the other nipple. She bit her lower lip and tears welled in her eyes, but I wanted to hear her. I let a series of hits slap harshly against her skin. Her breast blossomed into a beautiful shade of red.

Mariette hummed a growing moan until I moved to her other breast. She screamed through tightly clenched teeth until her jaw was forced open to fully express her pain. In her body's natural reaction to get away from me, Mariette's feet came from the ground, her legs trying to curl into and protect her chest, but her wrists took the full weight of her body and soon forced her to open up once more to my attacks.

I continued to lay a fast flurry of strikes on and around her breasts, stomach and pubis. She let her tears fall freely. My arm began to feel the strain and sweat had broken out over my skin, but it far from matched the rate in which it escaped Mariette. I felt the heat rising in my own flesh, the fierce hunger to mark her as mine, the desperate need to become the single seed of her pain.

I struck fast and sharp at her underarms, the backs of her legs, the exposed soles of her feet. I hit the darkening marks left from her previous whipping. She screamed and her screams filled the ancient cell.

I stopped.

She panted with an angry grunt thrown in my direction between every few breaths. She met my eyes and tried to compose herself, coming back to the world. She sucked in her lips and hummed deeply until her breathing and mind found their equilibrium.

I took the chance to catch my own breath trying to show no sign of my growing exhaustion; the long day of preparing for and battling with Merrick had taken its toll on my mind and body.

Now thoroughly composed Mariette stood firm if not a little shaken. I caressed the still raw, seeping slit I had inflicted on her lower lip. She flinched at the sting of my sweat salted print. I pressed further and she grimaced whilst petering on the edge of her bizarre bliss, the happiness she found in the depths of agony. I pressed the welts erupting over her taught flesh over her ribs before raking my fingernails over them, not for one second losing eye contact until she threw her head back screaming as I added pressure.

I felt her hot flesh fill my nails. Blood oozed up through the grazed flesh. Here I finished my torment and hers. My rage at my losses was quelled, my blood lust satisfied and Mariette was once more marked as mine even though it meant something different to her. Looking down at the four scratches below her breast, I felt at peace.

Her legs had given out and once more held her weight with her cuffed wrists. She swayed limply and I forcibly stopped myself from collapsing against her. I held strong. The Mistress to over a dozen slaves, loved, feared and respected, who would not fall at any hurdle, was back.

Mariette had given me her love as only she could and I would take it. I allowed myself to press my lips to her open panting mouth in a brutal embrace purely for my own desire.

"A small toll for my services."

She rolled her head forward and pressed her burning forehead to mine. A blissful smile played on her lips, "Thank you."

"You're welcome my beauty." I inhaled her baited breath and said, "I shall attend." Talking of Merrick's damned ball.

Mariette merely smiled.