Amanda smiled when she walked into the room and saw her gift that was left by her best friend, Sam. She should know by now that he always knew just what to get her to cheer her up. They have been best friends for years and only he seemed to understand her true hearts desire. The heels of her thigh high black leather boots clicked across the basement floor as she came further into the chamber he had designed especially for her. The soundproof walls were made of a thick solid stone. The door was made of a heavy iron and sealed perfectly into the walls when closed. He had designed a massive wooden chest for her; it took up half the length of one wall. The key to open it was in the bracelet she wore on her wrist. She ran her fingertips over it remembering the night he brought her down to give it to her, the thrill of the things he had watched her do that night. Things had been almost unbearable for her lately. The stress of being in her position was growing daily. Then losing her loving Persian cat, Frankie at eighteen years old, it was all just too much. Sam had showed up this morning and promised to wash it all away. She looked at the blood red polish, and it was very close to blood. Sam had been the only man in her life that really understood her and what she needed. She needed power, control, she needed blood. Sitting on the chest, she looked at the tall man who was chained by his wrists, ankles, and neck to the wall; a ball gag in his mouth. The only clothing he wore was a very tight pair of jeans. His arms and chest were covered in tattoos. Wild designs of skeletons and dragons locked in a battle were across his arms and chest, interwoven with symbols and objects. He had no chest hair, and only the faintest of hair trailed down into the top of those so tight jeans. She licked her lips at the thought of what might lie under those jeans. His bright green eyes held no fear as he watched her stand and remove her long cloak, revealing her black corset that was woven with deep reds and purples. Her pale breasts held high and tight up on top just to the edge of her nipples. She wore tight short black shorts with fishnets. Her long red hair spilled over her pale shoulders and down to surround her hips. She reached up and pulled it into a high tight ponytail and she watched as the front of his jeans grew tighter. Oh her Sam did know how to find just the right ones for her. There was a large marble slab that served as a table in the middle of the room. It came close enough to the walls for her to reach her chosen tools, but far enough away to allow her to use them. The glow of the candles that lit the room glinted off his nipple piercings. She turned and bent over, giving him the full view of her ass in the tight shorts, just the bottoms of her cheeks showed. Pulling out the key, she unlocked the chest and opened it.
Inside on one side there was a collection of whips, crops, flogs, paddles, and belts. There was a small shelf with clamps of various sizes. Another compartment held chains and cuffs of leather and metal. There were deeper compartments holding tools of a darker nature, as well as the inside of the lid of the chest had sharper implements she had been known to use when the dark mood came over her. She selected a leather riding crop, the metal studded paddle, her favorite flog, and a steel set of clamps. Placing them on the slab he raised an eyebrow, turning back, she closed the lid of the chest, locking it. Turning back towards him, she saw he was straining against his jeans, uncomfortably. Smiling she leaned into him and ran her tongue across his chest, pulling a nipple piercing into her mouth, rolling it in her tongue as she pressed against his body. She dragged her nails over his sides and down to his hips. He groaned as she let her hands trail over the front of his jeans, he throbbed with a pulse against her hand. She pulled back, looking up at him, his eyes held a hunger in them. She smacked the front of his jeans with the back of her hand. He barely flinched, his hunger flared in his eyes as if he would tear her apart if he were free. She liked rebellious, they are more fun to break. Turning she grabbed a set of solid steel clamps. Pinching each nipple, just around the piercings, she tightened them; the chain that went between had a hook upon which she placed weights that would pull down on the clamps. He hissed around the ball in his mouth. She patted each clamp firmly. Taking the riding crop, with a flick of her wrist she smacked each of the clamps, then bounced the weight with it. She dragged the crop down the center of his body, over the bulge in the jeans, she flicked the tip across the hardness and he groaned again. She continued flicking the crop back and forth across that hardness until his breathing grew thick and heavy, then gave him a solid smack with it and discarded the crop. Dragging her nails across the pale expanse of his stomach she purred, “So you like pain do you?” His eyes flicked to her with a hunger of a beast barely restrained. Digging her nails in further leaving red welts behind he growled at her. She pressed her body against his, her lips brushing the side of his face as she whispered, “Before long, you will beg me, for your life.” Reaching up, she pulled the ball gag off him and he growled, “Before long, I’m going to fuck you to the edge of yours.” Turning, she picked up her flog and snapping her wrist she caught him square across that bulge with nothing more than the tip of it at full snap. He yelped and then growled at her again, pulling at his restraints. Bringing her arm across she used a strength her size hid and smacked him across his chest. “Bitch!” he screamed at her. She smiled as something flicked across her eyes as she smacked him again and again, until the clamps fell off his nipples, catching on the piercings and hung there. Just a small trail of blood ran down the edge of his red skin, his breathing haggard, but that bulge in his pants still very hard. Leaning forward she licked that small bit of blood from his chest and he shivered, she caressed that bulge and he strained to rub against her hand. Turning around she ran her ass across him, the heat off his chest against her back, she turned her head and purred, “Is this what you want?” Turning his head as far as the manacle around his neck would allow he licked her neck and said, “Yes.” She ground her hips backwards into him and said, “Yes what?” She bent over shoving her ass back into him; he panted “Yes Mistress.” Squeezing her ass around that bulge, she turned around and unbuttoned the jeans, he wore nothing underneath. His length long and hard bursting out, she grabbed the tops of the jeans and dug her nails into the flesh there as she tugged them down to just below his ass. She trailed her nails against his body, just around that hardness, not actually touching it. He wiggled his hips, trying to get her touch. She drew back her arm and let her flog smack firmly across his naked hardness. She screamed for her, and she smiled. Turning something caught her attention. There was a black velvet bag on the slab, about the size of one that would hold a flask. The words “My Love” embroidered across the front in deep red. She ran her fingers over the soft velvet and picked it up. She slid the black box out from inside and opened it. Inside was a set of shining surgical instruments and a note. She opened the note and read.
“My Mistress of Blood and Darker Things, for when the time is right, you have but to open the door. Love forever your submissive Sam.”
She looked up at the man chained to the wall, his chest and stomach had red welts from her, his hardness standing out of the front of his jeans, he looked at her realizing something had changed. A flash of fear crossed his face. She smiled and walked to the chamber door. Opening it she found her Sam, a metal studded collar on with a chain that she could lead him with. He wore nothing else. Kneeling, he offered up the chain to her, head bowed. She grabbed the chain and pulled him back to his feet, tears in her eyes as she clung to the surgical set. “Tonight, my Sam, you are my equal, I will make you like me,” she whispered. Stepping into the room and closing the door, he grabbed her hair and kissed her hard and deep. Pushing her back against the slab, he took the box from her hands and selected a razor. Meeting her eyes with a heat long withheld, he cut the top of her corset, and then gathering up the material in his hands tore it from her body, her breasts bounced free. The heat and hunger in his eyes said everything to her. Leaving her sit there on the slab, he went over to the man on the wall, using the intricate levers he had built in here, he moved the man so he dangled from his wrists, ankles, and neck above the slab. One sweep of his arm, Sam pushed everything else off the slab and grabbed his Amanda. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he wrapped his arms around her, crushing their naked chests together, his hands cupped her ass and he tore away her shorts. She came up with a gasp and looked at him. Picking up the long sharp blade, he handed it to her and said, “Bathe us in it while I fuck you.” Her eyes flared with life and she leaned back to look up at the man, now gone soft, hanging above her. Taking the blade, she cut his jeans deftly from his body. Leaving him nude and still soft, she crawled to her knees and licked his chest as she ripped the clamps and piercings from his chest. Looking into his face, she grabbed him in her hands, stroking him, her nails danced along the softer flesh between his legs. His body unable to keep from responding from her started growing hard again. “I thought you wanted to fuck me?” She purred as she looked into his eyes. What he saw there did not make him harder, but softer. He suddenly realized there was nothing he could do. A wicked smile curved her lips and she gasped, as Sam had crawled onto the slab with her and had pushed his finger inside of her, brushing that spot that made her shudder. She leaned up and kissed the man above her and ran the blade down his chest and stomach and he screamed into her mouth. Sam pulled her to him; she breathed, “Fuck me Sam”. He lifted her off her knees and her legs wrapped around his waist and he slid deep into her. The man above them sobbed. She reached up to him curving those long nails inside the wound she had made and as Sam thrust into her again, she pulled the flesh apart slightly so his blood would rain down on them, but did not draw the killing blow. Sam laid her down on her back and thrust into her harder, as he watched her pale skin covered in the red blood as she writhed beneath him. He watched as her fangs grew longer, she pulled him down to her and she bit his neck, drinking of his blood. He exploded inside of her screaming her name. His world started going dark, as she drank all of his blood, his heart slowing down, and finally stopped.
She pulled him down and let him drink from the top of her breast, the world came rushing back, pounding in his ears. He opened his eyes, his loving Mistress, his Amanda. “Now my Dark Sam, drink and take you’re first”, her eyes moved to the man that still hung above them. The man screamed and fought his restraints, but when Sam looked up at him he grew very still seeing the animal borne in Sam’s eyes. He did as she said he would, “Please, Mistress, no,” he sobbed and begged for his life. Sam rose up, his Mistress still wrapped around his waist and sunk his new fangs into the man’s thigh and drank.