Up to the Moment The irony behind my predicament was that I had asked for it. I had talked with my mistress about the idea of blood play, and she looked at me with keen interest and said only "I'll think about it." Nothing more had been said. For years I had dreamt about it. As a child, I would watch the late night Monster movies and sit in awe of the vampires. Where my sisters and brother would turn their heads in fear as Dracula attacked his victims, I would slowly and absent-mindedly draw my hand down my neck and wondered what it would feel like. As a teenager I taught myself to masturbate to stories that I had carefully constructed only nights before. The stories of werewolves and their brutal attacks upon the body would drive me into a delicate frenzy as I explored my body and newly discovered lust I became obsessed with the idea of act of sex between cats, the males on top, impaling the females while biting them on the back of the neck. As I lost my virginity, I let the boy enter me from behind, while my mind envisioned his teeth upon the nape of my neck, biting hard enough to draw blood. In the throes of ecstasy, I would often hear my heartbeat with the sound of "Kh-THMP, Kh-THMP, Kh-THMP" as it pumped my precious life fluid. As I entered womanhood, my sexuality turned to lessons in pain and pleasure. I sought out people into bondage and domination, in the hope that I could convince, plead or beg someone to take the next step with me. And although as a twenty five year old woman into the leather scene made me hot property, as soon as I mentioned my desires, I would inevitably run into someone else's boundary. And once I learned that, it was difficult for me to maintain the level of energy needed to keep a serious D/s relationship going. That is, until I met her. I was given to her as a gift. My previous Master had grown impatient with me as I slowly lost focus on our relationship. I had wanted it to work, I really did, but once he cringed at the thought of taking my blood, I knew I couldn't keep up the charade. I wanted to give him the most precious asset of my body, and he clearly didn't want it. And once my interest waned, so did his. She, on the other hand, seemed very interested. Although he had briefed her on how I let him down, she seemed to take that more as a challenge. At out first meeting, she asked me about my desires. She then listed off a series of activities and watched for my reaction. When she mentioned blood play, she looked at me above the top of her glasses as I briefly, but audibly, gasped. She gave no indication of interest beyond her glance and moved on to other activities. I eventually moved in with her and became her submissive and her lover. She enjoyed the power it gave her, and I enjoyed pleasing her. Seeing her smile with lust and a devil's grin was a gift she unknowingly gave me. I was falling in love with her. It was during our next contract negotiation that I asked her about blood play, and that I got my response of "I'll think about it". It was more than I ever had gotten before. And it was enough to keep me on edge over the next several months. She would tease me with it. She would bite my neck and growl. She would even take a blade and slowly run it along the outside of skin. But she never drew blood. We had our blood tested. We remained celibate to each other. She started talking about how it might feel to have a major artery ripped out. She even had me sit down with her to watch the same vampire movies I had watched as a child. But she never drew blood. By the time we reached the final week of our contract, I had given up most of my hope. She had teased me with it, but was unable to go through with it. And somehow, this had hurt more than simply rejecting my blood fetish outright. It was a simple index card that changed my world. It was taped to my bedroom door, and written in blood red letters was "An Invitation". On the back: a note of gratitude for my service to her, and the promise of a ritual that would bind me to her in ways I had only dreamt of. I was to be in the playroom at 6pm sharp, wearing a leather corset for her, and I was to be blindfolded. She would stop by prior to me going to the playroom to lace up the corset. I set the note slowly upon the dresser, hands shaking. It was going to happen. My mind focused on one simple fact...I would be giving my blood to her. At ten after six, I found that I could hardly breathe. The leather corset that she had bound me into made sure that every step I took, every inhalation of oxygen, would remind me of who I belonged to, and more importantly, why. I knew she was in the room with me. Even with the blindfold on, I sensed her presence. The room felt more vibrant, more dangerous. She was looking at me, probably with a smile, probably with blood red lipstick upon that smile. I was hers and she was about to take full advantage of that. The hours of anticipation, the weeks of negotiation, the months of dark flirtation, and the years of frustration all came to this singular point in time. I was hers. She had tied me with a series of intricate knots to various eye-holes placed strategically throughout the room. I was standing, and I could walk if I wished (although only one or two steps), but I could not fall. The ropes around my waist and raised wrists made sure of that. I heard her take a step as I tested the ropes. "You doubt my skill?" "No Miss. I'm simply seeing how much give you have ...uh...given me." She chuckled to herself as she continued to walk in front of me, from left to right. "Understood. Are you frightened?" I paused, probably too long, so I then hurried my answer. "Yes Miss. I would be a fool not to" I felt her come towards me from the right side, her steps lightly giving away her position on the carpeted floor. A touch... I jumped as the back of her hand lighted brushed itself down the side of my face. I could feel the acrylic of her nails as they caressed my cheek. My heart rate accelerated. "It would seem that you are indeed." The scent of her perfume was nearby, full of vanilla and citrus. She was drawing herself close. A flash of pain shot through my head as she grabbed the back of my head, taking a handful of my red hair while pushing my head towards her. Soon her lips were clamped on my own, her tongue penetrating, exploring. I responded in kind, tasting her, allowing her entrance. Her left hand reached down and ran forcefully across my black panties. For one second, maybe two, her fingers rubbed themselves over my clit. She let go as quickly as she had grabbed me, and I took a deep breath. The constriction of the corset quickly reminded me exactly how much oxygen I was allowed to breathe. It became readily apparent that it would be better if I took short, hard breaths, rather than one long one. My face quickly became flush with lust, but also with a semi-lack of air. The musky scent of the leather flowed into my head, intoxicating me with the moment. Before I could regain my senses, she grabbed my head again, this time tilting it just enough to allow her easy access to my neck. She bit into the base of the neck, grabbing the muscle there with her teeth. Her lips sealed themselves around the hold she had created and her tongue quickly found itself running back and forth over the flesh that she had taken. Her short, hot breathes echoed in my ear and I felt them run down the back of my neck to my spine. I shuddered and moaned. She put more pressure upon the flesh with her teeth and the pain became apparent. This wasn't some lover trying to arouse their partner. This wasn't intended to cause any amount of pleasure. This was an attack... ...and it was starting to hurt. I was used to pain, at least in the erotic sense. I have been whipped, caned, tied, bound, stripped and used. But there was an element of sensuality always behind it. But this was different. For the first time, all I could think about was the breaking of the skin, the puncture of the major artery and the river of blood that would surely flow from my neck. I visualized my skin losing its pallor as pints of crimson nectar settled upon my body, staining my soon-to-be lifeless form. In my mind's eye I saw myself from above and felt... not sadness, but bliss. My heart raced faster. Once again, her free hand shoved itself down to my sex, and began fondling me through the silk fabric. The sensation of both pain and pleasure competed for priority in my mind. I tried instinctively to move my head away from the pain, which prompted her to bite down harder. Her own passion was becoming clear, as she began to use my thigh to rub herself. Her wetness coming through her own panties that she was still wearing. I could feel her groans of lust reverberating throughout the flesh of my skin that she held not so delicately in her teeth. My body swayed back and forth as much as it could, straining the ropes that she had made sure would hold me firm. She held onto me, not letting go even for a second. She grabbed my hair harder as she bit down with more pressure. The skin between her teeth gave way as she pierced me with her incisors, with a nearly imperceptible sound announced that I had been breeched. I gasped for air, ignoring the pain that the corset shot throughout my ribcage. She quickly applied less pressure, but held firm to the neck, allowing my blood to enter her. I felt her neck as she swallowed whatever went into her throat. Her other hand maintained the rhythm that it had started, my panties now soaking with my own wetness. I felt the first trickle of my blood roll down my back, making it about half-way down before running out of the viscous fluid. My body convulsed. I was in sensory overload. From the corset to the blindfold, from the bite to her hand that was getting me off, from the sound of her swallowing my blood, to the sensation as it ran down my back, it was all...too...much. I screamed as the pleasure within me exploded. My hands wrapped themselves around the ropes that had tied me to the ceiling, as I looked to grab onto to something, anything. My body shook and my head fell backwards and a deep, guttural cry escaped from my mouth. She let go, letting more of my blood flow onto my back. The scent of copper began to overwhelm me, causing me to lose my bearing. She then came in quick, this time not to attack, but to hold. "I've got you. I've got you. Let it go, let it all out", she whispered into my ear as I screamed with passion. Sweat poured from my forehead for what seemed like minutes as I shook in her arms. It was done. We had done it. I had bonded myself to her by given my life essence and she had taken it. It was done. And now the real fun could begin.
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