words on skin

blood.
blood.
its always about the blood.
the blood in your veins, the blood on the previously pristine white sheets.
the blood on the ropes digging into your wrists. into your ankles.
the blood he....harvests from your body.
fresh, vibrant.
the smell of it...iron, salt, and lord....freedom.

the air is ripe with it. it makes you go crazy...sends tingles down your spine. harsh breathing, whimpers, soft sighs, soft questions...
" do you like that baby?" he whispers into your ear, and runs his fingers soothingly over your ass. his ass. everything is his. your body, mind...and yes, your heart.
you whimper when he digs his nails into a fresh cut...you rub yourself on the sheets, you need friction, something, anything. tense is not a word to describe just how tight you are sprung right now. literally. it must be the loss of blood, it might be the X in your blood, but that thought makes you want to laugh, and you would have, if not for the gag in your mouth. you nod. yes, always yes.
he knows what you are doing...rubbing yourself off like that on the sheets like a bitch in heat. he likes that. so he presses your body deeper into the mattress...and you moan when you feel the swell of the sheets between your legs. the proof of his need on your thigh like that. and he lets go....and you cant stop rubbing yourself..humping, clenching...close...oh..oh so..so close...gonna cum....cummi..

the blow comes swiftly, fast, hard, unforgiving. you cry out, and you feel the tears sting at the corners of your eyes. and again. and again.. and again. you know your back, ass and thighs are a piece of art right now. a painting...all red purple and swollen. by his hand. he is the artist, and your body the canvass of his work. such an honour.....it is such an honour to serve him like this.

he turns you to your back..so gentle, so soft, and you wince when your back touches the bed...but its okay, you can see his face now, his beautiful face, his beautiful haunted eyes, dark with need and arousal (i cant believe that line:author. loool) . so sad...he is so sad, but he won't, can't stop....for you, always for you. sometimes, you don't know who the master is, who is leading who, in this dance of yours.

remember the first time, so many insults, so many arguments, so bitter, he threw a punch, called you a bitch. and you fell to your knees and sucked him off. despite the horrified look on his face, and the shame in his eyes, he let you. and later, you wouldn't let him take you to the hospital. and when he tried to hold you...you walked out. and he got the message.

and here you are...legs spread wide, fuck leaking on to the sheets. you can smell it in the air.

blood. sweat. semen. sex.

and you feel alive.

he runs his fingers over your face..so beautiful he whispers. you are so fucking beautiful baby- pant- you should see yourself angel. and his fingers stop at the gag in your mouth. runs rough pad over sensitive skin.and you tremble...because he knows what you want...and he will give it to you.

he kisses you despite the gag. he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. bites your upper lip. all wet, spit running down your face. lick, bite, suck...more.

after that first day, he would never touch your face. he said, the day he touches your face, will be the day its all over. for good....he doesn't know just how true that statement is.

he leaves the bed abruptly, and you are left counting the starts behind your eye lids.

he comes back...and you scream. through the gag, its muffled, but your lungs are protesting..oh the pain. oh the joy, oh the ecstasy of a hot so fucking hot knife on your ribs.
 it burns and you bleed.
like his kisses.
his touches.

he carves his initials on your chest. between your tits. such a sap, the love of your life is. the best. and he carves deeper into your tummy. above your navel. he carves your hip bones.

oh so much blood.
you feel so lightheaded...and you think you might pass out when you feel the knife in your inner thigh.

maybe you do...because for a second, its all black, when he thrusts into you so hard, and all you can focus on is him. inside, you. all over you. in you. up and down you. so fast. and he carves some more.

thrust. slice. blood.

thrust. slice. blood.

yes.

he rips off the gag. and its funny how now you have nothing to scream. he fucks the breath out of you. and you want more.

its sticky between you. the blood, gods the blood. and the sweat makes it sting, and your mouth waters at the thought. and he carves your thigh, deeper. and he is horrified, as the blood pumps out in rhythm with your weak pulse. and now you scream.

"that's it baby." pant. grunt. groan. "sing for me angel"
and you sing. and he kisses you. tongues wet. soft. more. baby...

your pulse falters, he clutches at your neck. and squeezes. in time with his fucking. and its glorious.

"do you want to cum?"
"yes." always yes.
"then cum"

his eyes on you. his hand on your neck. harder, deeper, tighter...tighter..tighter...and its all black now. nothing but his pants. his moans, his groans.

he lets go...and you're brought back to earth by the feel of steel on your cheek. breath hitches. its over.

"this is the last time." he whispers...and he cuts. meticulous. beautiful. oh it hurts, and you cant help but smile. he is making you so pretty. tears mingle with the blood on your cheeks...and he smiles back.

"i love you."
you laugh. so weak. " you are such a sap"

he pulls out and lies next to you.
you take the knife.....and carve your initials on his chest.

the sheets are saturated with blood and proof of your orgasms.

he smiles.."who's the sap again."

always you you whisper...and he closes his eyes.

and you press the tip of the knife to his heart. and you press. its hard. so you press harder. his eyes open in confusion, fear...betrayal...but you smile.

"i love you"

and you put all your weight on that knife...and realization   dawns on him. and before his eyes go dull. he smiles,

"sap"
you won't cry.

whoever finds you...will find the proof of your love on your chests.
so you lay your head on his now still chest...and you let go.







(i feel like i should apologize for any trauma caused. but i wont.)