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Author Topic: Love lies bleeding.  (Read 356 times)

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Love lies bleeding.
« on: October 14, 2014, 07:03:29 PM »
“I want you to cut yourself.”

His  deep voice was nothing short of suggestive, it’s tonality filled with arousal and maybe even playfulness, despite his abhorrent intentions.

And she, the women in which he was speaking to couldn’t help but get off on his voice; to her it was the kind of voice a Japanese Anime would snap up for the main villain role, you know? In some sort of post-apocalyptic Sword and Sorcery series, the kind of thing she was WAY into.

Worst thing is, he liked that about his voice; as dark and brooding as it is, it was also soothing, giving off a calming effect that margined on the supernatural. It wasn’t just his voice that transfixed his prey, it was everything about him.

His large frame, his almost onyx hair, his presence, body language…Everything. When he walked in a room heads turned and eyes widened; when he spoke, these very same heads would nod in agreement and with the right amount of suggestion and emotional “switch-hitting”, he could have them eating dogshit out of the palm of his hand.

Why dogshit? Because, nourishment is the furthest thing he wants for them. He’d rather watch them suffer and thank him for it, than ever display compassion. Though, he wasn’t too far removed from showing mercy, he got a kick out of that. Ever since he caught a rabbit in a snare as a child, broken legged and injured. The thrill he got as it sprang off into the darkness, blindly putting pressure on it’s mangled leg, almost made him delirious; even more so when he let his hound chase the cunting thing down and rip it to shreds.

It was similar to the feeling he got from the woman laying before him, spread out on a white tarpaulin with a small curved blade in her hand, although this feeling was just as sexual as it was taboo.

“Cut myself?” she asked, with a tremor in her voice and Goosebumps spreading across her naked pale skin.

“Yes. I want you to take that knife and trace it along your flesh. Not too deep, but not too shallow either.”

She held the knife up before her with both hands, catching her own fearful reflexion for a moment before gazing back at the man she met earlier tonight, a man who had charmed her into wanting his cock and doing just about anything to get it. But now that she’s had a chance to think about it, he  didn’t really do any “charming” at all? He was dark, weird and scary as fuck; “he didn’t charm me?” she thought while realising that their relationship was that of moth and flame.

“Re. re. re. re. really?” She stuttered.   

“Unless you want me to cut you?” his question should have sent a chill down her spine as he stepped forward knelling on the bed right in front of her, should have told her to take that knife and stab this fucker in the chest, right here, right now. But she didn’t; for his voice was too calm, too enchanting for her to get past…It had talked her into sucking his cock instead of giving him the pre-paid lap dance, talked her into coming back to this hotel room and talked her into laying on a plastic wrapped bed, that only Dexter fucking Morgan would prepare.

“It’s simple” he said, taking the knife from out of her hand and gently running it across his already scarred chest, the tip of the blade leaving a thin line of crimson, much in the same way a pen would on paper.

“Taste it.” He pointed the knife towards her, it’s edge mere centimetres away from her lips.  Her whole body and mind screamed at her “Don’t fucking do it Debbie, you stupid bitch!” But she wasn’t listening; the sight of the blade running across his skin had aroused her, she was blushing, her lips were almost purple, both on her face and between her legs and as much as this seemed like a bad idea she WANTED to taste it.

And so, Debbie parted her thick full lips, extended her pierced tongue and slowly licked his blood, taking it into her mouth and swallowing it. She sat up straight, biting her lip in a manner of complete and utter fucking bliss. Like nothing she had ever felt before.

“Now. I want to taste you.” He said and she nodded tilting her head to the side and wafting her long black hair over her shoulder to expose her neck. Debbie, a name she still hadn’t shared with her “lover,” for she had used her stripper name of “Dallas,” didn’t pick up on the fact she offered her neck to him like some bimbo from True Blood, she also didn’t pick up on her subconscious want and need to be devoured by him.

He moved closer, draping her legs either side of his waist; as he did this she could feel herself wanting his hard cock inside her; she was wet, trembling from his touch and WANTING him to slice her open and fuck her in a pool of her own blood. It was here that he rested the point of the blade onto her neck, it’s cold touch causing her to shudder as she gently clawed his waist with her cosmetically altered nails.

She didn’t feel any pain. The real pain was to come much later, though she had no idea how brutal a fuck this guy really was at this point in time. Instead she felt release as he cut a small, half inch line in her neck and then pushed his lips up against her skin and sucked her neck, all the while slipping himself inside her.

The mixture of her blood entering his mouth and his cock deep inside her hit her like an instant orgasm. He yanked her head back by her hair and she gazed up into his cold, almost dead eyes...

“I want this moment to last an eternity.” she uttered with delight.

“Nothing lasts forever.” Words that would ring true for her in the morning, words that would never leave her…Not after everything he would eventually do to her tonight, not after he…Abused her every sense.