Blinking, my eyes sting from sweat dripping down as I look at her. I have no idea how long I’ve been tied up. An hour? Two? My head falls back, and I take a deep breath.

-------

We met at a mutual friend’s sex party, both of us watching a threesome. Standing side by side, she leaned in and asked, “What’s turning you on?”

In front of us, a man lay pinned on a table, restrained by one woman while another gripped the base of his cock, her hand tight. His cock was swollen, a shade of dark, pulsing red. The woman toyed with him, her long nail lightly tracing the head as he struggled against the building pressure.

I turned to see her for the first time. Her hood cast shadows over her face, with bangs framing thick black eyebrows. Her eyes, an intense green, held me as though I was the only person in the room. Her lips were dark purple; her expression was both focused and amused. I looked back at the scene and said, “She’s really edging him. Look at that tension. I love it.”

She gently touched my shoulder and, without a word, handed me a card. “Call me,” she said, before walking away, hips swaying in high heels, a dark, gothic presence fading into the crowd.

------

Now, I’m back in the present, naked, tied to a table. She’s above me, her plunge bra revealing lifted, full breasts, nipples flushed pink. Her purple hood still conceals her face, her gaze holding mine with a mischievous smile as she glances down at the clear liquid dripping from my cockhead, trapped in two tight rings, one around my balls and one around the base of my cock.

“More?” she asks, voice dark and smooth. I nod, throat dry.  Her eyes linger on me, like a knife edge against my skin. I can feel my heartbeat drumming in my chest.  I am straining, but whether it is to escape or get closer to her, I am not sure.

I’d taken something to keep me hard, to ensure I could last.

She stands over me in crotchless black panties, stockings wrapping her legs, tattoos covering her body. As she removes her hood, I catch the glint of a nose ring and the flash of something smooth and dark on her forehead, reflecting the low light. Leaning close, she produces tattooing tools from somewhere out of my sight, her breath sweet against my ear. “How do you feel about tattoos?”

Her words tease at my resolve, my chest rising and falling as I murmur, “Yes.” 

I glance up at her now-uncovered head, seeing two smooth black horns emerging from her long hair. My eyes widen; she laughs softly, a sound both soothing and unsettling.

------

After the party, we’d met for tea at a dark café in L.A. It was late, and though it felt strange, I didn’t care. She wore a black bodysuit, thigh-high boots, and a hooded cloak, like a shadowed figure, a comic book character.  I couldn’t take my eyes off her figure, the perfect curves of her body, her narrow waist.  For a moment, I imagined her naked.  Her voice broke my daydream.  “I wasn’t sure you would come,” she said with a sly smile.

In our corner booth, we talked about our kinks, how they matched, her love of dominance, my craving to be edged to the limit.  She shared about how much she enjoyed the arousal process, but there was something in her voice I couldn’t place.

I asked her if she had ever been in love. She looked away, “Once, but I’m not sure it was love. I’m not sure I know what that is.”  She looked back at me, and at once, I felt a deep longing for her mixed with an emptiness.

She asked me the same question.  “Yes, several times.  I’m attracted to…difficult women…but I do fall in love with them.  It’s hurt so much that now I’m looking for…”

“Sex,” she finished my sentence.

“Yes, just to enjoy without the feeling of attachment,” I said, looking at her shyly.  When I saw her face, I realized there was no need to be shy.  Her look was raw lust mixed with a sort of detachment.  She took my hand in her gloved hand.  I hadn’t noticed the gloves and they turned me on.

I left that night with intense blue balls, my desire thickening each time we talked.

The night I finally came to her place, she greeted me in lingerie, still wearing the hood. Her mystery fascinated me, and I let her lead me inside.

------

With her hood down now, she leans close, two black horns sharp against the candlelight, her eyes an endless, dark void that meets mine with intensity.

“You have a choice,” she says. “I’ll let you go now, or we'll continue. But if we continue, there’s no turning back.”

“What do you want?” I ask, my voice tight.

“Your feelings,” she says, her gaze trailing down to my straining cock. “I want to feel something real, to know what drives humans beyond darkness. You…feel things differently. You know love.   It excites me.” She leans down, a finger tracing the veins along my cock without quite touching it, hovering close enough that I ache for her contact.

My pulse quickens, every nerve begging for release, and I nod.

Something in me shifts as if my body has given in to her entirely. I feel my cock press urgently against its restraints, yearning for her.

With a small, dangerous smile, she produces an inking tool from below, a pen that glows faintly. Leaning over me, she trails a finger along the skin of my belly, teasing the muscles tense beneath her touch, even as the needle’s bite begins to pierce my skin. Each symbol she marks flows over me, the pain blending with pleasure as her other hand toys with my cock, keeping it swollen, each stroke feeding a need that only she can satisfy. Each mark leaves a trail of heat that spirals down, increasing each pulse of my cock. The head darkens, swollen, aching.

Finally, she finishes, the symbols curving in a delicate, dark semi-circle around the base of my cock. She releases the restraints and straddles me, her scent—a dark amber musk—wrapping around us. Her wetness hovers above me, tantalizing, a perfect blend of restraint and temptation.

She slips my wrists free, and my hands find her hips, pulling her onto me, needing her fully. Her warmth envelops me, my hands gripping her hard, my every movement frantic. Her thighs, pale against black stockings, her hollow gaze meeting mine—it all floods me with electricity. I reach up, feeling the smooth curve of her horns, and she lets out a low moan as I begin to thrust, each motion lighting my body on fire.

The tension builds, a surge rising in my belly until, with one final thrust, I reach release, every pulse a shockwave. My hands tighten on her hips as I empty into her, an unstoppable wave. She gasps, her own climax overtaking her, her wetness covering me, a mixture of power and surrender.

I feel empty, drained, exhausted. In the stillness that follows, I look up at her, and there’s something soft in her gaze, almost vulnerable. A single tear slips from her eye as she whispers, “I had no idea…” My heart swells and begins to fill the emptiness, and it is then I know I am in danger.