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Blood Lust

That most perfect taste...

The crack of the disinfectant sponge applicator being opened, the anticipation of the cool burning fire fluid being applied to her spread outer lips, was like a dinner bell.  Her dark pink sex, on full display due to her hips being lifted by two thick down and foam fill pillows and a pile of innocent--for now--white hotel linens, started to leak with the drooling desire of what was to come at that particular sound.

Or rather, at what that particular sound heralded.

She was blindfolded, doubly so, with a silk wired mask banded over her eyes and a wide length of silken ribbon tied securely over the mask, blocking out all of the light and completely eliminating her ability to see anything.  She did not know if the hotel room’s lights were on or off;  she imagined that they must be on, as they were when he applied the blindfolding, since he needed to see well to do his work.

Oh God.  His fingers were spreading her naked, waxed pussy wide now, and she felt the first swipe of the chlorhexidine swab sponge across her clit, down the exterior sides of her innermost lips.  Fuck.  She moaned slightly...a moan answered only with the crack of another applicator being snapped open.

“You like this, darling?”  Not a question.  A statement. 

A statement made as the second soaked sponge pushed the hood of her eager, tiny clit back and then slid along the inside of her labia minora, her innermost lips, cleansing her, preparing her for the final torture before the fun.  The sponge forcing itself along the inside of her fourchette, then back up to briefly taunt her clit.

The sound of him tossing the second sponge away caused her to take a deep breath.  She was sweating a bit now, a slight sheen illuminating the pale skin of her breasts and inner thighs.  The waiting.  The waiting was fucking killing her.

She did not have much longer to wait.

“Hold still now.”

Oh, she was holding...oh fuck...deep inhalations as she felt the first butterfly needle being inserted into the hood of her clit...fuck fuck fuck it hurt and then...she felt him looping the extension tubing over her left thigh.  One.

Two.  The second needle sliding in just alongside her left labia minora, a few millimeters south of her clit, this she barely noticed, she was now so aroused, so fucking ready.  Again, she felt the extension tubing being looped over her left thigh, the divinely perfect pain suffusing her cunt beginning to pulse to life.

Three.  The third  needle glided in alongside her right labia minora.  She took another deep, heavy breath, exhaling slowly as she felt the extension tubing being looped over her right thigh. She squirmed slightly now, wanting...wanting so much what was to come next, now that the needles were all in place.

“Stop.”  His free hand reached up and pinched her right nipple, sensitive and erect, hard, twisting as it pinched.

“I’m sorry…”

At  this, and at her falling still as a graven statue, he gave one last reminding pinch and removed his fingers from her breast.

She could not see.  She could only lay there, legs  drawn up and fallen open, her ass right on the edge of the bed on that pile of pillows and towelling, waiting.  Waiting.

Finally she felt him pick up the first piece of extension tubing, one of the two draped over her left thigh.  Felt him manipulating it as he attached the syringe filled with ten millilitres of sterile normal saline to the luer lock end.  She bit her lip to keep from crying out as he did the same to the second, and then finally  the perfect weight of the third syringe being attached to the third piece of extension tubing, the one draped over her right thigh.

She could not stop trembling.  She needed this.  She fucking needed this right the fuck now.   She could feel his breath on her open, needful cunt as he inspected his work, his fingers pressing gently down on each butterfly needle to verify placement, even as she lifted her hips slightly in desperation.


No answer.  That wasn’t how this worked.  She was there for his use, his enjoyment, and she knew it just as well as he did.

And then...oh fuck.  He picked up the syringes, all three, the tubing tugging slightly at her most delicate places, excruciating pain rippling through her quaking body, and then…

The feeling of  the cold sterile saline being pushed into her, those most carefully cared for of places being pumped full of saline, the pain...his sighs echoed in the room as he watched her cunt swell with the fluid.  Fuck…

Fuck, it hurt more than she had thought possible and she momentarily arched her back in both pain and pleasure,  feeling something--the warm gush of her own fluids, her own tight wanton needful pussy, definitely, slicking her perineum.

Her lip was bleeding now.  I’m a good girl, I’m a good little slut, were the words running through her head.

“You bitch.  Look at yourself.”

One hand reached up and abruptly snatched off the blindfolding, just as the other pulled all three needles out at once.

She looked up at him.  Standing between her legs, fingers massaging her cunt, he held a hand mirror to  her so that she could see the beautiful dark, almost fuchsia pink of her now heavily swollen, puffy pussy.  She smiled, a slight, wry smile that lit up her face.

“Drop the mirror.  Fuck me.”  It was her turn to issue commands now.

He smiled back, kneeling between her legs, his tongue eagerly lapping at the small spots of blood appearing where the needles had been, insistently pushing his fingers and tongue into her slick wanton tightness, spreading the product of her own needfulness over her, making her need this even more than one would think possible.

Finally, finally, he stood up again, grabbed her about the waist, just above her wide hips, positioned his cock, and with one violent thrust, stabbed into her, crashing into her soft welcoming cervix.

“This, you little cumslut?  Is this what you want?”

She could do nothing but moan, a soft purring moan, her eyes closed as she tasted the same metallic taste on her tongue that she knew he was tasting on his tongue.

He sped up.  His left thumb ground down against her clit, and he knew damn well that he had only a few seconds before he lost it, and fuck if he was going to cum without her.

He loved her for so many reasons, but this was perhaps the best--the way that her body responded to his ministrations, ministrations kind and soft and gentle and ministrations more like this, the very direct opposite of kind and soft and gentle.

Her body began tensing as her orgasm gathered, a storm cloud threatening, and he slammed over and over into her, until she could hold back no longer and fucking lost it...his name a whimper on her lips, those lips begging in French, demanding that he not stop.

With one final hard thrust, he lost it, too, and she screamed his name and bit his left shoulder as he filled her with his own needfulness and simultaneously picked her up, holding her against him as the last bit of his cum flowed into her body.

“I love you.” Again, a statement.

“Je t’aime, mon petit chou.”

The pillows and towelling were tossed aside now, and he helped her into the bed proper.

One last call to room service for more clean towelling and pillows, to be delivered in two hours, and he gathered her into his arms, nuzzling  the nape of her fragrant neck as they both fell into a satisfied sleep.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © Copyright © 2017 HeraTeleia

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the express prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses as permitted by copyright law.

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