Blood Slave

by Syra Bond

  I saw the flash of her fingernails as one of her hands was laid palm down alongside my right shoulder. There was a pause - a drip of saliva hung from her top teeth - then her other hand was laid down outside my left shoulder. Her red hair dropped forward from behind her shoulders. She lifted her right hand and moved it further. I saw the shape of the top of her breasts - firm and enclosed in the lacy bra - come slowly into view.

  Her movement continued as she crawled above me. I watched her breasts then her stomach then first her left knee and then her right as she crept over me, all the time being careful not to touch me. I saw the top edge of her panties first and my heart began pounding faster. The line of lacy pink material against her pale taut skin set me on fire with excitement. She moved her knees forward and I saw the fleshy shape of her cunt, pulled by her movement, squashed inside the thin material - naked, luscious, and delectable. As she passed over me, the material of the gusset pulled tightly between her buttocks, eventually disappearing before emerging again as a pink triangle beneath the thin waistband as she moved over me to the bottom edge of the couch.

  She stopped, her hands gripping the edge of the plastic covered couch - the unmarked soles of her high heeled shoes turned upwards just beneath my armpits, her knees spread each side of my hips, and her head dropped between my thighs. She raised and lowered her head as if inhaling and exhaling all the air in the room. My heart pounded as I gasped for breath. Spit now ran freely from the sides of the dirty gag that plugged my mouth and dribbled frothily down my cheeks.

  Another waft of coldness made me shiver. I started struggling frantically against my bonds. It was as if I had suddenly realised my captivity. I pulled at my ankles and wrists - the pain from the straps was sharp and biting as their edges dug into my skin. But I couldn’t stop. I lifted my hips as far as I could and bent my neck so that I could just see the top edge of my crack.

  Another waft of coldness and a shadow fell over me. I stopped struggling, suddenly more fearful - it was as if a demon had cast darkness across my body. My heart beat even faster. I thought it would explode.

  Nurse Roslin stayed on her hands and knees above me, her head occasionally dropping low enough for me to see the tip of her tongue poking out, glistening with dribbling spit. The shadow became darker - it was Dr Collins.

  My heart was pounding so fast it was deafening me. Its beating thumps filled the room. Dr Collins’ hand stretched forward. He dangled the rubber cushioned chest piece of the stethoscope - the long red rubber tubing looping down before ending in the earpieces now firmly pressed into his ears.

  He held the chest piece flatly against Nurse Roslin’s stomach, just above the waistband of her panties. I shook my head, deafened by the sound he must be hearing. The pounding of her heart filled my head like a massive thumping drum. I sucked hard on the filthy rag in my mouth. He moved the chest piece higher, across her stomach to her diaphragm. The pounding became even louder. I was overcome by it - an incessant, repeated hammering so loud it was unbearable. I imagined myself screaming out in an effort to disperse it. I imagined covering my ears in the hope of keeping it back. But still it grew louder as he moved the rubber cushioned chest piece above the centre of her bra until it rested directly over her blood-filled heart.

  I felt faint. The room spun around me. I tensed all my muscles. My mind was overcome by the deafening pounding of her heart, itself excited with anticipation, struggling to pump enough blood around her body to satisfy its hunger for oxygen.

  She dropped her head slightly. Her heart beat even faster. Her buttocks widened. The gusset of her panties was wet along the line of her crack. I sucked hard on the rag, I drew out its greasy moisture. Again I felt the burning of vomit in my throat. I sucked harder and swallowed the sickening fluid.

  Dr Collins drew the chest piece away. I closed my eyes as the beating thunder receded and gave me some relief.

  I watched the earpieces drop into his hand, and then I watched him pull them back out of my sight.

  Nurse Roslin’s bottom lifted higher - the gusset pulled even more between the crease of her buttocks. Her head dropped again. I saw her face briefly. Then, without warning, the red rubber hosing of the stethoscope came down across her buttocks with a sudden harsh crack.

  Immediately, several red lines appeared on her pale taut skin. She lifted her bottom higher, the tubing came down again, this time harder, more noisily, and the red lines it cut were deeper in colour and longer. She lifted her bottom more and tightened herself. The gusset of her panties disappeared into the tight crack. He brought the tubing down again fiercely. This time she jerked as it landed, but this time she did not move from her position.

  I could not stop myself snorting; it was the only way of letting out what was a continual scream. Bound to the couch, with this beautiful woman straddling me, offering herself for such a harsh beating, made my cunt run with the pleasure of irrepressible joy. I knew it was overcoming me. I knew I could no longer hold back my own joy. Still with Nurse Roslin’s thumping heart beating in my ears, and with her taut buttocks now covered in red bruising lines, I felt my body tense in an involuntary paroxysm as my ecstasy took hold and threw me into a cramping spasm. It shook me as if I was a fragile leaf in a thunderous storm of pleasure.

  Spit frothed from my plugged mouth as I lay beneath Nurse Roslin. The thrashing did not stop and, still with the red rubber tubing of the stethoscope beating her red lined buttocks, I watched her head drop until her probing tongue touched the plastic covering of the edge of the couch. She started licking the plastic surface, laying her tongue flatly against it and slurping at it as though it quenched her thirst or nourished her hunger. She pulled back and looked down at me - her head upside down, her teeth bared, her cloudy eyes vacuous and empty. Blood stained her white teeth; she pulled her lips back, as if she wanted to launch herself at me and sink them deep into my flesh. Blood dripped from the points of her canines. It ran down her chin and dripped onto the shiny transparent plastic covering of the couch. She mouthed something - as if she was trying to pass me a message. As if she was trying to tell me to have hope - not to be afraid.

  I snorted as desperately I drew in breath. I could not move - I was frozen, completely immobile.

  I must have blinked - I don’t know how. There was silence. I could hear only the thumping beat of my pounding heart. For a moment, I didn’t know where I was - who I was, what was happening. I felt the wetness of my cunt - its moisture had spread across the insides of my thighs and my skin felt cold in the still air. I held my breath. I lifted my head and looked down between my spread legs. I looked for the blood that I had seen dripping from Nurse Roslin’s chin. I saw nothing.

  The heavy door opened with a dull creak. A tall, dark haired woman in a glossy white uniform entered the room. She looked down at me without a second thought - as though everything was perfectly normal.

  She smiled broadly. Her teeth were large and white.

  ‘Welcome to Pacific Heights,’ she said brightly as she ran her hand along the insides of my thighs. ‘I’m the orderly. My name’s Caroline. Wow!’ she said opening wide her dark eyes. ‘What have you been doing?’

  CAROLINE

  Caroline smoothed down the front of her shiny white nylon uniform jacket. She was tall and slim. I imagined the narrowness of her hips and the flat dipping line of her stomach between their raised points. I thought of stroking the palm of my hand across her silky smooth skin, stretching out my fingers, pressing them down towards her luscious, moist crack. She had a broad mouth and her full delicious lips were precisely painted with bright red lipstick. Her nose was pert and her dark eyes were wide and inviting. Her black hair was cut short - bobbed with a square cut fringe. Her skin was pale and silky - I thought that if I touched it I would have an orgasm. I thought again of stretching my fingertips into the opening of her cunt and I felt a surge of enveloping heat shiver through my body. When she smiled s
he opened her lips and revealed her large white teeth. They were bright white but not overly level so they did not look in any way unnatural or enhanced. Her top front teeth were the largest but they were by no means buck teeth. Her canine teeth were the most prominent - seemingly artificially sharp. I imagined how she would pull their razor-like edges along the veins of a throbbing cock. I saw that her tongue was pink and juicy. It lapped behind the bottom row of her teeth, glistening with spit and obviously capable of extending far out of her red lipstick-lined mouth. I imagined sucking at it, feeling it wriggle in my mouth as she searched for my own tongue. I thought of it probing to the back of my throat and I wondered if I would gag or whether I would be able to swallow on it and feel it in my gullet. I breathed hard at the idea. I thought of it probing between the fleshy wet lips of my cunt, slipping inside, lapping at the dark interior of my flesh. And I imagined it pressing into the centre of my anus, probing into the darkness there, lifting me in quivers of delight as it slipped in, tasting me, heating me, and driving me to overwhelming and unbearable delight.

  Her white nylon jacket had blue edging and five blue buttons were neatly placed down the front. It was buttoned up to the neck and had no lapels. A silver clip pinned the collar together at her throat. On each of her cuffs was a single gold band. Her trousers were loose fitting with a complimentary blue stripe down each of the outside seams. They were drawn tight at the waist by a string the ends of which hung down below the bottom edge of her jacket. The looseness of the nylon material picked up her shape beneath as it touched and clung lightly to her thighs.

  She was captivating. I felt the heat surging in my cunt. I struggled against my bonds, but this time to free my hands so that I could dip my fingers into my aching crack. I felt my clitoris throbbing and wanted desperately to pinch it hard and deliver the pain that would rescue me from its pressing needs. But I knew it wouldn’t - whatever pain I could receive would only increase my desires.

  She talked casually as she walked around me checking the security and tightness of the straps at my wrists and ankles. It was as though she inhabited a different world - one which did not see my captivity as anything strange or troubling, one which saw it only as part of normality.

  My sense of confinement and exposure returned. I shook my head from side to side, anxious to have the dirty rag removed from my aching mouth. A heavy wave of panic welled over me.

  ‘You were brought here from Montreal,’ she started, speaking in an easy going and matter-of-fact way. ‘They found you naked and soaked on the lower viewing balcony on the Canadian side of the Niagara Falls. It was December. You must have been freezing! It’s amazing you survived! You didn’t know who you were, or where you were, they said, and you were covered with whip marks - everywhere! Especially across your breasts and bottom!’

  I tried to call out but it was impossible. I felt my anxiety increasing. I opened my eyes as wide as I could in the hope that my stare would convey my desperation. She yanked hard on the straps around my wrists. I felt a burning sensation on my skin as she pulled them up as tight as she could into the steel buckles.

  ‘The authorities sent you here, to Pacific Heights.’ She chatted as though she was passing on everyday information in an everyday situation, not talking to someone naked and tied tightly to a hospital couch. ‘A relative signed the papers. They say this place was modelled on a leper colony. They used to put mad people in leper colonies, you know. Just imagine that! All those white bloodless limbs! Yuk! I know a lot about it don’t you think? I studied it in college. I got an “A”. I called my project “My History of those Lepers”. The disease died out - nobody knows why. The leper institutions fell empty so they filled them with mad people. Odd, don’t you think? Physical disease gives way to mental disease; a bit like pain giving way to pleasure. Charenton in France was the most famous. The Marquis de Sade himself was kept there until his death. Sad, don’t you think? Someone like the Marquis, locked away like that? Have you read his books? Now there’s someone who really knew what pain was! I had a boyfriend once. We tried out some of the things. Wow! Pacific Heights used to be owned by Lord somebody. He modelled it on the old methods of treatment: calming, purification, immersion, and confinement. Now it’s run by a new owner - our “Father” we call him; just like the Lord himself! It’s a very special place, and we like to think of all our visitors as special. See, you’re special - a special visitor. Though, it must be said, some of our visitors have not enjoyed their stay here as much as they could. I don’t know why. Too mad, I suppose. Some of them say that we suck their blood. People can be silly don’t you think? Suck their blood! Honestly!’

  I fought for breath and struggled in a panic. I could not believe what I was hearing. Why couldn’t I remember any of this? A relative? What relative? Niagara Falls? Whip marks?

  ‘Now, that’s enough of me. I know I go on a bit sometimes. Let me take this dirty rag from your mouth. Honestly! Who’d do such a thing?’

  She quickly checked the security of the bonds around my ankles then leant over me and prised her fingers between the plugging rag and the wide stretched edges of my mouth. I felt the sharpness of her nails against the inside of my cheek - I winced.

  ‘Just a little pain. Just a little pain for a special visitor.’

  Suddenly she pulled the rag free. Air exploded from me, as though the plugging material had been holding it in. I gasped to replace it with a long, deep inhalation. I let it out and gasped again, progressively feeling my heart slowing as my system absorbed the new supply of oxygen. Everything sounded clearer. For a moment I felt as if all my senses had been enhanced.

  ‘Where are the others?’ I asked, my voice trembling. ‘The doctor and the nurse? Nurse Roslin?’

  Caroline shrugged as she began carefully to undo the straps that held my wrists. She had only just tightened them and now she was unfastening them. It was as though time had passed and I had missed its passage.

  I felt the straps ease then fall away but, even though they were free, I was unable to move my hands or arms. I just lay there as I had when held by the straps. I was released but not free. My muscles felt useless - paralysed. I wondered if I would ever be able to move again.

  ‘There was a pair here a while ago - I don’t know their names,’ she continued. ‘Nor if they’re the ones you’re talking about. They were weird - very weird. I met them once, just as it was getting light. They must have started work early. She was tall, quite beautiful. They both died, tied together in some strange ritual, they say. Threw themselves over a cliff. It’s over a year ago now. Suicide pact, that’s what they say, but I don’t believe it. It was never explained how they could have been tied up like they were. How can two people tie themselves together then throw themselves over a cliff? I think they were tortured by someone. And they were cut all over their bodies and covered in teeth marks. Teeth marks! That’s what they told me at the mortuary. We have our own mortuary here, and the attendant is a friend of mine. And she showed me some pictures! Full colour! The woman had these long gouges down from her neck and over her breasts. Yuck! Can you imagine! It turned my stomach just to look at the pictures. I think they were definitely tortured - you couldn’t do that to yourself could you? It’s not possible! Then, after they’d been tortured, I think, someone drove them out to the cliffs and hurled them over. Do you think I’m terrible? Thinking such things? They were from Arizona. Crazy! Oh, I’m going on again. You must stop me.’

  She bent forward between my wide stretched legs and grinned broadly.

  ‘Now, we’re going out for a bit of a tour. All our new visitors go on a tour - it’ll get you familiar with how the land lies, as they say.’

  She undid the straps around my ankles. Still I couldn’t move. It was as though I had lost all ability to control my muscles. I couldn’t even bring my legs together. For a second I thought my heart had stopped - I thought I was dead!

  ‘Now, what�
�s your name?’ She looked at a brown paper tag tied with string to my right big toe. ‘Ah, “Syra”. That’s a nice name. Well, Syra, you are a strange one, even for this place, and we get some strange one’s here, I can tell you. Come on, let me help you.’

  She opened her mouth wide. Her fleshy tongue stretched out. Its tip reached below her chin even though it was not in any way at full stretch. It glistened with a film of spit. She dropped her head and let the soft wet surface of her tongue touch the inside of my ankle. She looked up under her eyes, seeing if I responded, seeing if I needed more.

  Still, I couldn’t move.

  She stood back, unclipped the silver pin at her throat and slowly undid the five buttons of her jacket. It fell apart at the front - a white lacy bra held her firm breasts. Her nipples were dark pink and hard, pressing hard beneath the filmy material, eager to be exposed. She loosened the draw string of her trousers and let them fall from her hips. She stood with them around her feet for a moment - naked except for her lacy bra - then, like Aphrodite emerging from a shell, she stepped out of them. She was perfect, in every way, perfect. She grinned broadly, her white teeth outlined by the blood-red circle of her full and luscious lips.

  She lifted herself up and straddled me on the couch. I wanted to look up - to see her cunt - but I could only stare at her eyes as she dropped her head between my legs. It was as if I was punishing myself by not looking at the glory of her flesh that was now so close above my face. It was as though I was increasing my pain at withholding the sight of this delightful object of my desires. The self-punishment of it was delectable.

  Her eyes stayed fixed on mine as she ran her wet tongue first in a circle around my ankle bone then up the inside of my calf. I felt a fresh draft of cold air. I wanted to shiver and felt my body tightening in readiness. My eyes widened but nothing else happened. Still I could not move the rest of my body - even involuntarily. Still I could only stare at her face, now upside down, as she worked her way up my legs.