If you haven’t read Winter’s Lioness Part 5, you can do so here
As soon as he unpacked it, Heather fought him. She could tell his intent, and she squeezed her legs shut, trying to hold him out, but Erik could tell her heart wasn’t in it. With a hand on her abdomen, he could feel her heat and the tension in her belly. He gently pushed her into the bed and waited for her to relax. It took Heather a few minutes to regain her self control, and Erik waited until she moved her feet and bent her knees to give him full access to her sex. Her breathing was shallow and rapid, preparing for the shock to her nervous system, so Erik slowed things down a bit and first blotted Heather’s wet labia with a fresh cotton ball and then swabbed the right one with iodine again.
None of that really mattered though. As soon as Erik had a grip on her lip and was pulling it out from her pelvis, Heather was vibrating and struggling to hold herself still. He didn’t mind so much, but it made the delicate work between her inner thighs much more tricky. With the uncapped needle held tight between his thumb and pointing finger, Erik had to use the back of his hand to push her inner thigh out while his other arm fought the way her knee shook against his elbow. He imagined Heather’s anticipation of the moment the needle entered her was far worse than the reality of it, so Erik didn’t wait any longer. He stabbed the narrow tip into the outside of her outer labia and pushed it in intending to quickly pierce the tender skin of her lip.
The sting caused Heather to double over, clamp her thighs together on Erik’s hand, and turn to her side all at once. She felt her head dully thump into Erik’s shoulder while the needle passed through her lip’s sensitive flesh. She moaned as the tip of the needle then pierced her other labia, diving inward, and it was impossible to escape the feeling of the needle tip digging around and scraping the inside of her tender folds. Through all of this Erik was a solid mass, and Heather couldn’t move him no matter how she kicked and twisted. A part of her knew that she had to calm down, had to flatline, had to stop moving because every twitch made the pain worse. But her animal nature was intent on escaping the pain at any cost.
Heather’s body thrashed against Erik like a thousand birds beating their wings against the sky. He was hit in the jaw, chin, and shoulder by her head and knees repeatedly. He maintained his grip on the needle despite her scissoring thighs crushing and tugging and turning his wrist ninety degrees. He hadn’t expected this intensity, but now he was committed to the ride. In the back of his mind, there was a rational debate about the merits versus risks of two more glasses of wine before going forward. He persevered as he always did. How many times had Erik lost control? How many times had his rage and paranoia pushed beyond the limits of the ordinary? He was lucky to see this side of Heather even if it meant she would probably never share this with him again.
Usually Heather was just inside of her head, comfortably craving the intensity of something that could pierce her shroud. But somehow Erik had ripped that away, and she was naked, shivering in shock, with the intensity of what he was doing and how vulnerable she was screaming in an endless crescendo within her. Desperately trying to understand what had happened while still rattled by the wiggling needle gouging into the tender inside of her labia, Heather fought to enforce calm on her body. But she was betrayed, and only when exhaustion and fatigue finally reduced her to a shuddering ball of knots was Erik able to guide Heather on to her back and ease her thighs apart so he could free his hand and withdraw the needle. It hurt almost as bad coming out, and there was a wet slickness running down and over her anus that Heather imagined was blood gushing from the pierced folds of her sex. Despite her internal shutdown, she could feel Erik’s voice murmuring to her, blending harmony into the sound of her internal screams and the broken rhythm of her breathing, and his hands began massaging and caressing her body. She swallowed down a dark blend of saliva and blood – Heather had bitten her lip – and willed her legs to stop shaking. Erik was there, hands on her muscles, warming them while his fingers kneaded flesh and soothed her frayed nerves.
When Heather opened her eyes she saw him through the pain – lean sinews straining to hold back the tension and concern trapped in banded muscles flowing from his arms into his broad shoulders, his shadowed cheeks and deep set eyes watching over her like a worried physician, and still decorated with the visible wounds that he seemed to neither notice nor feel. She reached up, hand trembling, and touched his shoulder. Erik’s quiet words guided Heather’s thighs back together, and then he reluctantly moved away from her to pull the duvet off the floor and cover Heather. She helped, arranging the duvet just below her breasts, and then reached out to feel his arms while Erik looked her over. She stared at him while his shadow loomed over them both – an inky block mass of distorted rage and raw power. Then he pushed back her hair and kissed her.
Erik felt the flush on Heather’s face with his lips, and the salty taste of her tears danced on the tip of his tongue while the natural dark musk of her fear and arousal filled his nostrils. He was hard and aching, but Heather was broken and gone for the moment. He pulled back, his fingers stroking her forehead some more and brushing into her mussed hair, and then he remembered her glass of wine. Erik had to ease Heather into a sitting position while being careful not to brush the needles in her forearm. She held the glass in both hands, still a little shaky but already showing signs of improvement, and Erik only needed to keep two fingers on the bottom so Heather didn’t spill. She swallowed the remaining contents of the glass in a single gulp, and they both made faces at each other as she pushed the glass back to him.
He chose to ignored the way Heather was intentionally squeezing her legs tightly together, knowing she was still reacting to being penetrated so intimately, and retrieved the Cape Vintage Reserve bottle. He poured, she swallowed more down, and then he refilled the glass again.
This time Heather took the time to breathe in the wine, to enjoy it, and then moved her fingers and wrist to test the sensations from her arm. The needles made the skin feel tight and disrupted, but they didn’t really hurt. When she rocked her wrist forward there was a slight ache but it was only a degree or two more intense than a hardening sunburn. She still couldn’t will herself to let her inner thighs stop clenching shut. The spreading wetness over her vulva and running down from her lips was more noticeable than the distant memory of the sharp prick of the needle. But in her head there were still alarms and relapses playing out while Heather worked to pull herself back from the edge.
The fact that Heather was self aware enough to test the sensations from the remaining five piercings reassured Erik that she was coming around. He’d been too rushed, too hasty, too hungry… It didn’t matter. He had wanted it all in one night, and then screwed it all up. How many things had ended this way in his life? He looked her over again, wondering how to piece it together, and suddenly she was there. It caught him by surprise. One moment, Heather was struggling to reassemble herself. In the blink of an eye, she was suddenly composed and attentive.
Heather stretched her fingers, working through the sensations of her skin being pinned like a butterfly in a specimen collection. She could see Erik’s confidence wavering, but she let it go for now. She stretched her arms out in front of her and experimented – watching the difference in appearance. The drips of blood flowed a little quicker from the needle tips as Heather flexed and moved her wrist. She smiled and swallowed down the last of the urgent appeals of her conscience. Now she was ready for more.
“That,” she sighed, “hurt.” Heather’s voice sounded rough even to her ears, and she ran her tongue around in her mouth and wet her lips before continuing. “But now I’m only half done.” She wasn’t surprised to see how wary Erik was about continuing.
He offered her the wine glass, buying time to think about options, but Erik knew he wouldn’t say no. If she was composed enough to ask then he would willingly shatter her again for their mutual pleasure. Well, mutual was a rationalization. He’d do it again to see Heather lose control and then help her put the pieces of the puzzle back together. So what if it just meant they were both mad.
With a wave of her hand, feeling the unnatural tension of the needles rigidly holding her skin, Heather dismissed the wine glass. “Oh, but I owe you a reward…” she whispered to Erik. Her soft laughter was all the proof either of them needed that she was free now – free and utterly unhinged. Heather waited for the glass to be set down so she’d have Erik’s undivided attention. “Finish my arms and my legs,” she kept her voice low so he would need to come closer. “And then I will bend over this bed and you can pound into my ass or my pussy however you want.” The last words were just a wisp of shaped breath from her lips to his ears. But the intensity never faltered.
Erik rested his forehead on Heather’s cheek. She felt him nod and acquiesce, and then she rocked her head from side to side until Erik got up and she could stretch. Her body was still tense and anxious in anticipation of the needle pricks, but Heather was her own master again. She rocked her buttocks and hips, settling into the mattress and feeling how the duvet trapped heat against her flesh, and then watched as Erik returned to her side after fetching a wash cloth from the end of the bed.
“What’s that for?” she asked with her eyes focused on him.
Erik shrugged, “To wipe up your cum – you exploded all over yourself when your labia was pierced. I’m sure you can feel it soaking you…”
Heather shook her head slowly. “That’s my blood, dear.”
It was his turn to chuckle. “No. You orgasmed hard enough to nearly squirt. Your ass must be soaking.” Erik gestured to the tiny drips of blood around the piercings in her arm. “You didn’t think such small needles would bleed that much did you?”
Admitting he was right while not changing her convictions, she asked, “So why the wash cloth?”
He took a deep breath and then let it out. He had nothing to fear here except himself. “Because I will need to blot your labia before re-sterilizing them and then I can put each of these needles in.” The worst she could do was admit it was too much and reject what he wanted to do.
Heather thought about it long and hard. She picked up her glass of wine and finished it. Then she thought some more. It wasn’t the decision that made her uneasy. It was knowing she had so little control of her possible reaction.