It’s interrupted.

Master John stood up with a smile and grabbed my hair in his fist. “I am going to take such pleasure in you,” he said, pressing his cock towards my face.

I moved to suck on his cock, but he held me firm and shook his head. Slowly he pressed his cock to my eye. I struggled to keep my eye open as his tip pressed against me. I could feel the pressure. It disgusted and aroused me. I felt his pulse and felt his precum coat my eye.

My hands went to my crotch as he pushed slightly more. I moaned, it was disturbing and wrong, but I was his and wanted to please him no matter what. My vision in that eye distorted as he pushed further forward. My fingers were frigging my clit as he pushed against my eye. Was Master John going to literally skull fuck me?

Suddenly we heard an exclamation from Mark, and John turned to see Mistress shaking while still vertical. “She’s going into shock,” he said as he released my hair and stepped away from me.

My vision was distorted in one eye, either from the pressure or the sheen of his arousal on my lens. “Cut her down, now.” He commanded as he stepped towards a cabinet.

I was panting as he released me and uselessly watched on as Mark pulled back from Mistress and jumped out of the bath. He slipped slightly as Mistress’s blood coated his feet but quickly retrieved the knife to cut the rope.

Mistress fell into the bathtub, her head making an unpleasant ‘ding’ against the ceramic coated metal. Master John was there moments later, jumping into the bathtub with a syringe. I couldn’t see from my position. “Put pressure on her wound now,” he commanded, handing a heavy cloth to Mark.

Mark leant over the bathtub as I stood up and came and looked. Mistress shaking was reducing. Master John looked up at me, “Second drawer, there’s an infrared thermometer. Get it.”

I hesitated for a moment. “Get it now!”

Breaking from my stupor, I dashed to the drawer on unsteady legs and poorly focusing eyes. I grabbed the thermometer out of the drawer and returned to the bathtub. I pointed it at Mistress’s head, and after a moment, it beeped. “35.7,” I said.

“Fuck,” he exclaimed. With a surprising show of strength and balance, he picked Mistress up and stepped out of the bathtub. “Get blankets,” he said, “and what blood types are you?”

As I went to get blankets, I said, “O neg.” Mark mumbled a response that he didn’t know.

Returning with the blankets, John said, “Third drawer, transfusion kit.” He put his hand on the towel, “Mark, bring a chair.”

I ran to the drawer and grabbed the only thing in the third drawer, and came back. Mark had brought a chair by that stage. “Kimmie, sit; you need to give Mistress a transfusion. Mark, put pressure on the wound.”

I blinked. This was not what I was expecting from an erotic night, but I took a seat as John stood. With professional care, he inserted a needle into my arm and did so with Mistress. Then he flicked a switch partway between us, and my blood started to leave my body. “She should be alright,” John said.

I looked up at him. My heart was pounding, that could have been me, and I was so turned on. “Fuck me?” I asked.