Out of Darkness
I kneel at your feet on the velvet carpet, hands resting in my lap obediently. My chest is bare, my hips covered in leather -- restricting, skin-tight leather. The cold metal chain attached to the collar I wear brushes my back as you hold it loosely.
You're reclining on the sofa like a Roman emperor, features bathed in the soft glow of the melting candles. Incense permeates the air along with the distinct smell of sex. The faces of the other patrons are obscured by shadows cast by the red and black silks hanging from the ceiling and gathering on the floor. Music flows through the room; sexy, seductive notes that remind me of ancient times and ancient worlds.
A man walks by, sweat glistening on his perfect, barely covered body. He gazes at me wantonly, and I feel you possessively pull on the chain, snapping my neck back. You growl, and I see an animalistic glint in your eyes as I steal a glance at you. The man takes one look at you and moves quickly away.
"Damien," a smooth voice says, and I see the purpose of our visit coming towards us. He's clothed as all of us are, in tight leather pants and nothing else. A tattoo of a black rose circles his right upper arm, dripping blood from its thorns. He smiles wolfishly at me and then descends, straddling my lap and claiming my mouth roughly.
In my mind, I can see your body tensing. I know that you hate his infatuation with me; I've seen your reaction before as he enters the room and assaults me. But you suffer through it, watching as he plunders what is rightfully yours.
"Do you have it?" You speak the words through gritted teeth, apparently more than ready for him to remove himself from me. After a few more seconds of hot, feverish kisses he lifts his head and looks at you. Any other slave would have started sucking the flesh of his neck, or biting the sensitive areas of his chest, but I learned my lesson after the first beating you gave me for it. I am solely yours, and on the rare occasions I must be shared I will not give freely more than necessary.
He tosses a plastic bag at you, retrieved from God knows where, and my eyes darken at the sight of the white powder. You take it in your hands, staring at it almost as lustfully as you stare at me. You throw a few $100 bills at him.
"Pleasure as always," he says dryly, straightening the bills and folding them. He looks at me again, and hesitates at putting the money into his belt. "You know," he says, "money could be put aside for a night with the boy."
Your head shoots up and you glare at him, practically throwing poison-laced daggers with your gaze. He's undressing me with his eyes, and almost thoughtlessly he runs a hand up my inner thigh.
"I think not," you hiss, pulling on my chain so harshly I have no choice but to scramble backwards onto the sofa. You rest your hand upon the thigh he touched, daring him to challenge your claim.
He merely looks at you, an unreadable expression upon his face, and for a moment I wonder if he finds me worth defying you over. But then his eyes flicker to me, and slowly he turns, walking away with the money held tightly in his hand.
You snort, unamused, and watch him disappear. You look down at the sofa then, and the momentarily forgotten bag catches your eye. You pick it up again lovingly. The hand upon my thigh is unconsciously massaging small circles, and my leather is growing tighter, but I watch you with a distressed gaze. You're going to kill yourself. That fucking bastard, he's made you addicted.
I watch you for a long time, and then I swallow, ready to make my move and ready to face the consequences. I carefully, deliberately slide your hand from my leg, and I can see a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as your fingers brush my crotch. I fix you with a steady, sensual gaze, and let my hot breath wash over your flesh as I start to work my way up your body. I run my tongue across your right nipple and you murmur and "Mmmmmm" of appreciation as I kiss a path up your neck. I concentrate there, sucking and biting on the tender flesh. I let myself straddle your leg, rubbing myself erotically against your thigh.
At last I move to your lips. Our kisses are heated and urgent as we explore familiar crevices of one another. My hands roam your bare skin, moving along the well-known, picture-perfect planes of your body. I grind my hips against yours, feeling your hardness and teasing it relentlessly. Your hands move to my ass, trying to press closer.
I break off the kiss, leaving you breathless and flushed. I spot the bag teetering upon the edge of the couch and casually knock it off as I move my arm. You don't notice.
I start to kiss back down your chest, pausing at each nipple to bite and be rewarded with a short, breathy gasp. After torturous seconds I reach your leathers, and skillfully unzip them with my teeth, unsnapping the button as well.
As always, you wear nothing underneath.
Your breathing is shallow even before I take you into my mouth, and at that moment you moan. The music of the club seems to disappear; all I can hear is your breath entering and leaving your body. I feel your hardness between my lips, taste your sweet essence, smell the scent that is purely and ever so sinfully yours. A quick glance above floods my mind with images of you, head thrown back in ecstasy, eyes shut as you whisper meaningless words.
Suddenly you're filling my mouth, and I take in every last drop, relishing the taste of you. The sounds of the club gradually return as I complete my task, hands shakily zipping your pants. I pause for a moment, just to look at you. You lay limp on the soft cushions of the sofa, your breathing leveling slowly, your eyes still closed. I can't help the smile that forms upon my lips. Can any lover hide a smile when they know they have pleased the person they adore?
Trying not to disturb you, I stretch myself out next to your body, gently resting my head upon your chest. I can feel your heartbeat as it comes down, as its rate becomes steady. Its persistent hum is a lullaby.
I'm lost in my thoughts as I lay next to you, and almost unaware as you wrap a protective arm around me, softly massaging the small of my back. When I realize this is what you're doing, I smile again against your chest. You let a quiet sigh escape your lips, and it almost sounds...content.
Seconds, minutes, hours -- I'm not sure how much time passes, but at last you tell me to rise. We sit up on the plush sofa, and I grimace slightly as I notice the chain has dug into my side. You look at me, noting what it was that made me wince. You bite your lip -- your perfect, pouty bottom lip that makes you quite dangerously irresistible -- and carefully glide your fingers across the imprint of the chains in my skin.
Then you shake your head, as if ridding yourself of demons, and stand, taking me with you for you hold the end of the leash. Your eyes shoot down to the floor, and my heart sinks as I find that you're looking at the bag. Perhaps my plan was not as good as I had thought it to be.
You stare at the hundreds of dollars worth of drug laying there, a perplexed look upon your face. You look as if you're realizing something new, putting things together for the first time. As if the pieces of the puzzle have finally began to make sense.
You turn your gaze to me, probing my soul with searching eyes. And then we are walking, walking out of the darkness, leaving the bag forgotten in the shadows.