Come Over for a Bite

Come Over for a Bite
Mistress Morrigan

Biting fetish in the BDSM worldI suppose you could say that one of my fetishes is helping others experience what they have only fantasized about.  There’s a feeling of power in knowing that without me they may have never known what it felt like to fulfill their particular fetish or kink.  It’s heady stuff.  But that’s not the be all and end all of it for me.  I have a few really personal kinks that do it for me every time.  When it comes to these I have a few very select friends who share them.  Last night I spent several hours with one of them.  He just came over for a bite…

The biting fetish…

I won’t bore you with the details of his arrival; there was no idle polite chit chat.  We both knew why he was there.  I led him straight to the room I reserve for more private play and within moments we were both stripped bare and he was bound to a frame that left him immobile and completely exposed.  I could walk all the way around him, touch every inch of his body, he was completely at my mercy…within the boundaries we had negotiated long before; no visible marks and no blood.  The only words I spoke to him were to ask for his safeword.  Other than that I didn’t want him to speak, I only wanted him to scream.

Sometimes I start out gently, but tonight I felt the savage in me raging just below the surface.  I stepped up to him, my bare skin pressed against his, and without warning or warm up I bent my head and sank my teeth into the flesh just above his right nipple.  I wasn’t joking when I said I wanted him to scream.  He didn’t disappoint me.  I held shook my head slightly, like a dog playing with a toy, and released him.  The perfect imprint of my teeth was white at first, then quickly turned to pink and then red.  He would have a lovely bruise to remember me by, but it wouldn’t be the only one.

I circled him, planning the placement of my next marks.  His shoulder, his thigh, his stomach and very close to his groin, all of these places received similar treatment; a quick strike, teeth clamping down to the point of almost breaking skin.

Over and over I gave in to my need to feel flesh between my teeth, to hear his scream of pain and surprise, but there was another sound as well.  There was the sound of pleasure.  With each bite and each scream that I drew from him there were also the moans and the sighs and the gasping breaths that told of his excitement.  I marked him nearly everywhere I could easily reach and a few places I had to twist a bit to get to.  Each ass cheek had several sets of imprints, the backs and fronts of his thighs had them like links in a chain.  I bit along his collar bones and I bit across his chest and down his stomach and abdomen.  When I felt my frenzy finally begin to ease I stepped back and admired my work, the beauty of the reddish purple imprints left by my teeth, and committed the sight to memory.

His body was my work of art and he would bear the reminders of this night for days to come.

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