~Subject: an "abuse" scene, and a VERY sweet cutting
~Date: 6 Mar 93 22:52:05 GMT
~Lines: 136


Friday night, about 9 pm.  I was returning home, shivering with
cold - there was snow in the hills near Bologna, in these days -
trying to cover myself as best as I could with my heavy fur. Under
it I was wearing a richly coloured dress, and lots of necklaces,
earrings and bangles.  But my dark blonde hair was unbound, and my
face was wind-struck, without make-up.

I entered the hall, closed the door and welcomed the warm feeling
of my nest, doubly welcomed after that terrible cold. Alex immediately
rushed to me.  His voice was excited, questioning: "Laylah, my
life, do you want to be on bottom, tonight?"  "Yes, my Lord", I
answered.  He continued, his beloved eyes shining of love and
harshness: "Would you enjoy an abuse scene?" "Oh, Master, I would
love it!", and I tried to kiss his hands.

He slapped my face so hard that I fell on the floor. "Stupid,
worthless slave, useless toy!"  And he kicked my flanks, my thighs,
my belly. Moving as quickly as I could, I managed to kiss his shoes,
and his legs, licking his flesh with my tongue, my passion for him
burning as a bonfire.  My Lord then slapped me again, and kicked
sweetly my breast: "Who gave you permission to touch your Master,
you disrespectful slave?" "Please, please", I begged, "please let
me touch you, and serve you, Master..."

"You, touch me, you?  You're not even worth the stale bread you
eat...  but, I'm always kind with beasts!".

Alex put his right foot on my breast, then moved it to press upon
my bared neck, and my heart beat fast, happy, overwhelmed.  I
was still wearing my fur, open in front; my decorated dress was
wrinkled, my heavy indian jewelry of gold and silver was dancing
on my body, the first sweet tears were streaming down my face, and
in that moment I felt I was a barbarian princess used by the most
wonderful Lord... my sex was wet and I desidered him as dry earth
longs for rainwater.

He grabbed my hair and dragged me from one room to another, kicking
me, insulting me. I was living blissful moments, I kissed and licked
his legs, a spring so pure of joy engulfing me. I thought: "He
asked me to do this, knowing I much I enjoy this kind of scenes -
my Master is giving me this splendid gift, He understands my soul
so well!  I so love to be humiliated, beaten, insulted... by Him!".

He began to undress me: "You slut of a slave, how could you be
properly punished with all this finery! I would like to send you
out dressed only in your tattoos and jewels!" And he continued to
kick me, and my lips and tongue continued their work on his shoes
and legs. When he slapped me on my mouth, with all his strength,
I not only kissed his hand: I sucked it, covering it with new tears,
trying to communicate to him my adoration, my joy, my serenity.

My Lord understood, and, having brought me just where he wanted,
stopped the abuse.
He sweetly caressed my hair, kissed the marks he had left on my
cheeks, embraced me tenderly: "Laylah, Laylah, you are fantastic...
and I want to do something nice on your flank tonight, near your
spiral of burns and scars.  My initials are almost completely faded
away, and I want no one having doubts in San Francisco about the
fact you are owned by ME! I will cut a new A and a new M, with a
hot blade." I trembled: "I would prefer another burning for my
spiral, sir, but if you want a cutting..."

My Lord smiled: "Laylah, darling, you know you love knives and
blades!  I will not abuse you, this time; I will be gentle and
pleasant, and it will be a beautiful, sunny scene... and I have
changed my mind; I will use only the blade, without putting it on
a flame." He tenderly put me on our bed, then he chose a piece by
Bach which I did not recognize but immediately surrounded me with
its azured perfection.

Then he disinfected the blade and looked at me: "No, sweetest,
don't be afraid!  Why are you afraid?"  I almost wept: "I fear to
disappoint you, my Lord, I fear to spoil the scene!"

He kissed my eyelids, wet and trembling under his light touch.
"Laylah, my love slave, if you are yourself it's impossible for
you to disappoint me!" This time I smiled, put an handerchief in
my mouth, and waited. I was waiting for a simple hard heavy cut,
without warm up - but my Master instead began to caress all my
naked body with his knife. When I felt the cold metal on my breast
I couln't resist anymore: I freed my mouth, I opened my legs, I
offered my wet sex to the eyes of my Master, and I wiggled my
flanks...

"Laylah, now you may ask me... ask me to cut you: but only if you
want, of course!" I was almost mad for the terrible pleasure, and
immediately answered:  "Oh, Master, please, cut me!  Make me bleed!"

Alex began: and he was so able and skillfull I moved my flanks
slowly, in a rhythmic motion, the movement of love and pleasure,
of new life beginning, of creation, surrender, and offering.

I felt so exquisitely the pain and the bliss, that I didn't feel
any need to cry or shout at all. I moaned a lot, though, and I
begged a lot: "Green, green, my Master!  Please, please, continue,
it's so wonderful... thank you, Master, thank you, Master... Oh,
it's incredibly perfect, Master!..." Alex was cutting me quite
slowly, partly to prolong the incredible sensual pleasure I was so
shamelessly enjoying, parly because I was moving my body very
intensely, and a quick deep cut could easily have been dangerous.

"Look, Laylah, look how red and wonderful is your blood!" I obeyed,
proud to be so clearly ornamented and marked by my Master. The
initials were no big, but not too small, either. Often my Lord
stopped the cutting to rub incense ashes inside the open wound.
When the blade entered again into my tender flesh I came for the
first time, a complete, pink and golden orgasm, the sweet and loving
gift of a love Master to his love slave.

Alex kissed me, briefly, then continued the cutting: he carved a
very short and shallow line, then deepened it and enlarged its
edges with an ondulating motion, repeated both operations again,
then he rubbed the incense ashes inside my throbbing pulsating
body... again, again, and again, a cutting of light, in the light,
for the light. Soon I came a second time, a pure diamond splendour
almost blinding me, all the gorgeous colours of the universe united
in a clean, clear lake of white perfection.

After all this I felt tired, so tired, and so blessed by the Goddess.
I embraced my Lord, feeling him exhausted, too. We drank the wonderful
feeling to be without force, after a very intense scene, to be
void and full at the same time. We caressed for a few minutes, then
we fell asleep.  Before losing consciousness I repeated to myself,
smiling: "I'm Alex's slave, I'm Alex's slave." His cutting on my
flesh will last probably only some months, but his carving on my
heart will live forever...


Bright blessings,
    Laylah
	--
    You bite my slender wrists, my frail and fiery flesh,
    You drink the cutting taste of lips and breached sunsets