I ached. Oh, I ached. My erection was hard enough to cause a bit of discomfort at this point t, and she'd barely touched it. But she had kept driving those, those fucking nails into me, and the sharp little crescents of pain were delicious agony. The gag was, while a bit painful, more of a disappointment than anything else - because now, until she removed it, I couldn't taste her in anyway. No, all I could taste was the faint tang of my own sweat, soaked into the hem of the cuff from years of wear. Annoying more than anything else, that.

I stood, shaking once from tension, in front of the pole in the middle of the tent. I had to duck my head a bit to avoid hitting the fabric roof - it was just a few inches too short for me to stand upright comfortably. In this situation, I doubt that would matter. Vixen was currently examining me, and her eyes had lit up as she grinned widely. I didn't know what was running through her head - or, what those words she had had me say meant. They obviously meant something significant to her, but whatever language she spoke, it wasn't one I was familiar with.

I watched her as she slowly craned her head to one side, her eyes focusing on my neck. Did - did she want to drink again? I had recovered, for the most part, from her earlier feeding. I shivered and a wave of desire rolled through me at that thought. Shit. It seemed I definitely had a fetish for having my blood drunk. Thankfully it wasn't like there was a surplus of vampire women running around looking to feed for mutual pleasure, which was all I was interested in. Just the one, at least that I knew of, and she was already looking at me like her birthday had come early.

Her eyes snapped been to mine as she let a warm smile come over her face. She nodded at me and then twirled around me slowly. As she walked I could see her pick up the braids she and I had made and the ropes. I drew in a breath. Was she going to be whipping me to start? No, that wouldn't make sense, why would she have me stand in front of the pole if that was the case? I shivered. Fuck. I twisted my head slowly to track her, keeping my eyes on her. Not because I didn't trust her - fuck, at this point all I had on me was literally the manacles and the rope - but because I found I just could not take my eyes off of that lithe form.

Swiftly she came forwards and suddenly grabbed my elbows from behind. Pulling them right back she caused me to slam against the tent pole. The whole structure began to rock. Then rope was passed between my elbows, the roughness of the material being dragged over my flesh to make it clear. I shivered. This wasn't inescapable, but it was uncomfortable, and contorted my body a bit. Without breaking my tent, I was at her mercy. It - excited me.

I heard a chuckle behind me before her white form appeared at my coal coloured shoulder. A wink and she gave my shoulder a small, direct nip with her teeth before disappearing again. There was a moment where I could feel fresh blood oozing, and that was a distraction before braided cords began to lash themselves around my ankles, dragging them together and tying them to the pole. I moved my feet back - suppressing the nervous tension that ran through me here. I could likely break these ropes if I absolutely had to - but that wasn't the point here. I was not in danger - at least I hoped not. I swallowed. At least, not actual danger.

But what was she planning? I couldn't go anywhere without being untied now, and all I could do was go back to my knees. I turned my head back to catch sight of her. She was holding the dagger back in her hand and was eyeing me up as if studying me. When she caught sight of me looking at her she laughed, then lowered the knife blade to come at me. She appeared at my shoulder, teeth biting her lip as she gazed down at my form with firm desire.

“Mmmm,” she said. “Let's just see how well you heal, little warrior?”

Then the cold blade of the knife was at my abdomen. Her arm was snaking around my waist as she stood just at my back. As her teeth descended to bite hard into my shoulder the blade lightly pressed into my flesh. I let out a loud groan, muffled by the gag in my mouth. Fuck! I dared not let my hips buck, that would just drive the knife in deeper.

She began to drink as the knife drew patterns in my skin. It slid down, soft but piercing toward my navel. Her other hand at the same time caught around my other side and rested there. Slowly she drank, tenderly she carressed me with the knife and sharply her nails began to dig in as the three points of pain became three points of pleasure, for her … And for me. Her body pressed against mine, her breathing was regular but hungry, and a groan was in her throat the more she went on. The knife traced up my chest and up to my neck.

It paused as it touched my throat. By this time she had stopped biting, and her other hand was no longer digging nails into me. There was a moment of nothing before hand opened and with a clatter the knife fell to the floor. I breathed heavily. Fuck. Fuck I did not want her to stop. Why the hell had she stopped? That pain had been fantastic - I wanted more. Why the hell had she stopped touching me? I moaned in disappointment and tried to turn my head to look to her.