He was lounging on the table so casually. Naked. Unselfconscious. Relaxed. Humming along to the music I had playing. He looked so incredibly inviting. I could hardly wait to begin. But I wanted to take this moment to admire his casual grace. He saw me notice him and smiled. It only served to increase his charm. I told him how relaxed he looked and he made a joke about lounging on pianos and singing to me. It was sweet and funny and it ended the moment enough for me to want to start tying him up.
I tied him around the waist and down each leg. I needed to tie him to the table, but wanted to have something prettier and more extensive than simply tying his ankles to the legs of the table. He loves when I’m creative with rope. He preened in the rope and looked so happy. I had him lay down on the table so I could tie his arms to the front table legs. I wanted to give him enough play to reach me if he needed to touch my skin for comfort. Or to shift his shoulders. I planned to be very mean to one of them.
I cleaned my hands, I cleaned him. He looked quite relaxed and peaceful. I knew it wouldn’t last. The first needle. It was smaller than the last time I did needles with him, but I knew it would be harder. I slid the needle in. All of it. I buried the whole metallic length under his skin. He might have thought he was prepared for it. I’d told him what I had planned. He wasn’t prepared. He wailed. I smiled. I’d known it would be much more challenging. I also knew he could handle it.
And he did. Needle after needle. Some of them directly on top of each other. Some crisscrossing other needles. Some on their own. I put them in one after the next. He made such beautiful noises. He tensed his muscles. He grabbed my legs for support and comfort. He cried. I love when he cries. Then it was done. They were all in. I looked at him, bound and bleeding on my table. His adorable perky ass cheeks were framed beautifully by the ropes. I started spanking him.
He was caught completely by surprise. Unprepared for this new and different pain. It was magnified by the pain of the needles in his back every time his body tensed. I spanked and cropped and hit his beautiful bottom until he was breathless. Until it was bright red. He was crying again in great heaving gasps. I stopped and rubbed his lower back and arms as he reached for me, craving the touch of my skin as much as he could get. I comforted him with pets and skin while he cried.
Then it was time to pull out the needles. I was kind with a few of them, pulling them straight out singly. But it’s not my nature to be kind during a bloodplay scene. The rest I twisted, turned, pulled them out in pairs and groups. He screamed. It’s probably worse than when they are going in. Just when it seems like the pain will be over, it isn’t. But then they were all out. All gone. And he lay bleeding and sobbing on the table. I untied his hands and climbed up on the table so I could hold him gently. I love to hold him as he cries in my embrace. I love how he suffers so beautifully. I love how he trusts me enough to give his body to my ministrations fearlessly.