IP: 108.205.16.134
Posted on June 26, 2013 at 03:39:15 AM by Fatality
She can feel his eyes, those bottomless pits of green sulfur as they scrape against her bodice, peeling away the scars until she bleed out. Her own elixir mixing with that of the girl, her cries of torment becoming an aphrodisiac to the ivory bitch. Shiver rack her serpentine body, the violent tremors rooted in debased treachery and unadulterated lust. Since the time of sanity she had never known such, torment, such uncanny terror. A low purr escapes the vixens throat in response to the thrumming growl, its deep timbre arousing her and caressing her heartstrings as if she was a puppet. Undetered, unafraid was the hellion that she progressed still, eyes locked upon his, a silent appreciation and denial. His charms, or lack of, is what tethers the monster, her hunger great for the wine that he wastes so carelessly. No, she will not bend beneath him when her will is much stronger, when her madness much darker. A piercing scream rents the air, causing the bitch’s head to rise in inquisition. Her reward is the sickening squelch of flesh as he pulls at her nape, the tendons still clinging to the pelt. Each stretch of sinewy muscle dripping blood as it fights against being separated. Then his mouth begins to chew, the sound driving her mad as a soft popping could be heard. Then tendons have lost the fight. Yet, it is not sad, oh no it is a time for rejoice for now new vessels are revealed, new geysers of liquid gold and it is into these fountains of pleasure she stokes. Writhing with passion she drenches her already saturated pelt, her once ivory chassis stained forever and finally she is in her favorite ruby dress. Head tosses as she rubs it against any part of her body, feverishly trying to rub it deeper into her skin, into her dried veins and withered heart. And then suddenly their eyes meet again, a shockwave driving down her system and it is like she is burning alive once again. She moans, a low rough sound, unable to contain her immense pleasure at being regarded as nothing more than a play thing: a potential victim. His vibrating growl accentuating the way his bloodied fur stands on end, fur that is bejeweled with little white pieces of flesh. The scent of the blood heady and heavy upon the air only making his fangs glimmer all the more beneath their coat of paint. She does not look away, does not feel the need to for the threat is clear and she wants her own blood to wash down his meal. She wants him to rip into her carcass and wear her intestine like a necklace. To slice into her stomach and leave her last canine meal manhood strewn across the lawn half digested. She shivers, the image too much and as if he knew, he punishes her by moving the carcass away. Instantly she whimpers but she does not move. The jets were dying anyway and slowly she lower her belly to the ground. Eyes peeled as she bemoans the loss of her rejuvenating elixir, body squirming as she tries to control the rising lust, the raging hunger, and unleashed demon as it thrashes around within her svelte cadaver. A process that takes about half an hour, minutes ticked away in writhing agony, in wanton bliss. Time that is spent fantasizing and then she is rewarded for her patience, her depraved loyalty to the red geysers. Head tilts, beckoning her forward and forward she dances. Slithering forward like the conniving bitch she was. Beside him she sits, her whipcord of a tail curling around her in pure rapture as she gazes down at the girl, the light quickly fading but taking a inordinate amount of time. She is fascinated by his skill and gleefully so. Several hours pass in a blur, her heighten state of awareness taking over as she alternates between reveling in the heat of his body so near yet so far and the morbid movie before them. Sentries the pair was, watching over the death of another yet taking way too much joy in it. And then she shudders just as the tan girl does, the white hellcat reaching her climax. The waves of intense pleasure causing her to call out and then slide to her belly, eyes closing to stall their twitching. She does not remain as such for long for just as she finally regains her composure the loud ripping sound of muscle reaches her ears. He has taken the first piece for he is dominate now she can and she sidles forward to select a particularly tender slice. Her daggers slicing into the flesh easily, her mouth containing an ocean of saliva. Then, like he, she settles into the shallow pool of blood, her ruby bodice blending in nicely. She eats for it tastes superb. She eats because she is hungry. And she eats because she wants to be near to him, to partake in his kills, to clean him should he wish. She wants to torment those he misses, to witness his skill over and over and to climax again like she had. She was on a rollercoaster and boy was she addicted.  |
Replies:
Battle Not With Monsters - ByMaugrim June 26, 2013 at 06:11:27 PM
Slit my throat Save my life - By Fatality June 26, 2013 at 07:49:49 PM
~ Battle not with monsters ~ - By ~ Maugrim ~ July 7, 2013 at 00:17:49 AM
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