“Now, fuck it,” I command.
The freak’s chin drops to her chest, her eyes wet with tears.
I smirk. Interesting. So, there is fire left inside of the freak. She’s not fighting for her own independence anymore, and yet she hasn’t completely surrendered to a life of submission.
My grin widens. It’s funny how killing a stranger isn’t the issue, but fucking its corpse is where she hesitates. It’s already dead. What does the freak care if it’s alive or an inanimate object? For fuck’s sake, it’s still warm. It’s not even a true corpse yet.
“Daddy—”
My forehead furrows; I curl my fists. She freezes, no doubt registering the frustration clouding my expression. After everything I’ve done for her, after everything I’ve accomplished, she still wants to defy me?
I grab her by the collar and yank her toward me. My dick presses against her body. She gulps.
“I didn’t ask if you wanted to fuck the corpse,” I growl. “I told you to do it.”
I slam her back. She whimpers.
My cock aches. Today, my only desire is to witness her descent into total and complete submission, though it is difficult to stay on the sidelines, observing her growth. Thus, I may not be able to force the freak to fuck the dead failure, but I can move the task along.
I hastily unlock the belt straps. The corpse slumps to the floor, lying on its face, the diapered ass like a snowy hill stretching to the sky.
The freak cautiously glances at me, then positions herself to sit on the corpse’s head.
Face-sitting again? The empty-headed cunt can’t think for herself. But I suppose that’s my fault, isn’t it?
“You already did that with your mother,” I snap. The freak’s shoulders hunch as she curls into herself. I snarl. “Think, you stupid fuck. Somewhere inside that little brain of yours, there has to be another idea of how to entertain me.”
Redness creeps over the freak’s bare skin. She closes her eyes.
Seconds pass.
A full minute.
Finally, the freak rises and walks toward the drawer. Excitement blooms in my chest, and I clench my jaw. I stifle the urge to clap for her and instead keep my composure completely vacant.
The freak takes a bone saw from the drawer, then kneels beside the corpse. She slides the saw against the corpse’s wrist. Thick vibrations crash through the air, mixed with the moist squelch of flesh. My lips pull into a thin line.
We have six more failures—six more for her to kill and fuck—and then I guarantee my freak will be ready for any task. By the time we’re done with every failed specimen in this lab, the freak will be fully submissive toward me.
Once the hand and wrist are dismembered, the freak sits on the tile and reclines against the corpse, using the dead body like a pillow, and she spreads her legs, giving me a full view of her hairy snatch. Need oozes out of her cunt, and blood drips from the end of the wrist down to her hole.
She takes the severed hand and curls the fingers until only two are extended. The freshly dead fingers slide inside of the freak’s hole easily. Is the lubrication from the blood or the freak’s natural arousal?
“You didn’t even need to lubricate your new toy,” I murmur. “You were ready, weren’t you, love?”
The freak moans. My eyes hood with lust; saliva gathers in my mouth. It isn’t the dead body that gets the freak off. No—it’s my desire, my cock twitching, my wet lips as I watch her.
The freak’s hips thrust forward, gyrating for my pain. I clench my jaw. I told myself I would only observe her today, but my groin heats with the intensity of a thousand fiery stones piling up inside of me.
And I need to fuck her. To pound into her. To pinch her clit and make the stupid cunt orgasm. I need this.
I race forward, then pick up the freak, carry her by the ass, and force her to straddle me. Then I lay her down on top of the corpse, her back arching over the torso, and I shove down my trousers. I hold the corpse hand at her pussy, keeping the fingers inside, then I bulldoze her cunt with my cock too. The corpse hand and my cock stretch out her pussy, using her like a fuck doll. The sting from the freak’s acidic pussy juices and the scratch of the corpse’s fingernails are like a drug on my healing wounds; my body fills with heat, with need, with the desire to take, take, take everything she has and burn it all to ash.
The freak wraps her legs around my back like an insect stuck in a web. I dip my fingers into one of the corpse’s neck wounds and coat my fingers in blood. Then I rub my wet fingers against the freak’s clit. She moans, and I grip her mouth between my bloody fingers and spit on her face; the saliva and blood mix on her cheeks.
“You dirty piece of trash,” I growl, vibrating through each word. “You can tell yourself you killed your mother because you didn’t want her to live under my torture any longer, but that wouldn’t explain killing this stranger now, would it?”
My cock grows even larger inside of her, the corpse fingers scraping against my scarred flesh, the sting of pleasure pushing me toward the edge. There’s only so much I can take before I explode inside of the freak’s stretched out, useless hole.
