Sweat beads my forehead as I lower her feet first to the floor. I don’t believe I’ve ever sweated while a frankenstruct. As a human, I must have, but that’s a whole other story.
The sunken lights are low and muted, and perhaps there is a higher setting, but I like the dimness.
Still…light ushers away evil while the shadows welcome it.
“Stay,” I tell Hailey. She stares at me. Her tongue touches her upper lip, her feet shift, as if she is wondering what to say, what to do.
“Kail?” she murmurs.
I bend my knees and cup her face in my hands, with my thumbs closing her mouth. “Shhh.”
She inhales sharply.
My dreams of women tied and tortured, swinging by rope, red lines, blood leaking and running in rivers, of cries and choking and chains, those are silenced by the serenity I find in her eyes.
Her teeth move beneath her lips as my thumbs play over her, pushing this sexy mouth into whatever shape I want it to be.
The world rumbles while I stare at her for several moments too long. While the house distantly creaks and squeaks from something tiptoeing in the cellar, while I remember all that I’veknown of and seen of her body, of the things we have done and shared in these past few days.
My thumbs press on her softness. I kiss the top of her head then move down her face to her lips to kiss those, too, and she trembles and gasps into my open mouth. I bite her, gently stretching the edge of the corner of her lip. I am overcome by a mushrooming desire to deepen the bite, to cut through, to sever, to make herbleed. My jaw muscles ache as I angle my head and kiss her again, hard, until she whimpers and paws at my back and shoulders.
Then, I straighten and smile.
The smile brings a fleeting understanding to her face. She thinks she does but she can’t know my intentions, and I cannot ever tell her ofthissecret. Of this lethal compulsion they fucking well gave me.
Control. Possession. Love.
She wears a collarless white shirt and a pair of black leggings with tiny silver studs running down the sides.
I begin to undress her, starting with the buttons of her white collarless shirt, then I kneel to roll down her leggings, to kiss and run my tongue over her little navel. I turn her in my hold, hands on her at hip level, inhaling her, her scent, her curves and hip bones that my hands trail over. The swell of her ass cheeks. When I part them and tongue her asshole, she reaches back to grab at me as if I am a lifeline, as if without me she cannot breathe.
It is I who cannot breathe without her.
Her shoes are gone. Her leggings too. Her fingers slide over my face, poke at my nose, then my mouth, and I bite one.
“Take care,” I murmur, taking her wrists and nipping the peachlike swell of her ass to make her squeak and wriggle.
I stand then press on her shoulders until her knees buckleand she falls to them. Then I drag off her shirt and her bra. Now, I have her absolutely motherfucking naked.
“Fuck me,” I whisper in awe as I circle her, with my arm reaching out and trailing over her, to give her body featherlight touches. I don’t deserve this. I’m a monster, remember?
Do I care, I ask myself. Hell, no. The control I have of her, her obedience, it fills and floods this place in me that demands I do awful things to her. It drowns those villainous, inhuman needs.
The irony does not escape me. Those inhuman instructions were given to me by true humans.
Head turning, she follows my path, and her mouth crinkles at the corners as if she is amused.
I retreat until my shoes hit the backpack. From it I pull the collar made of silver links, the black dildo, and the chain leash.
“Crawl to me,” I croak, my throat tight with lust.
I almost say her name, but doing so lessens this. As of now, in this moment, I need her to be my possession, my thing to fuck and play with. “Come to me, my hot, wriggly petgirl, so I can fuck you thoroughly and fill you with come. I’m going to leave you leaking from every filthy hole.”
Her eyes widen, and though she hesitates, she slowly lowers herself to all fours and crawls toward me. Her ass sways, as do her breasts where they hang beneath her. As she nears my feet, she watches me through the hair that’s fallen across her face.
Her every movement betrays an eagerness to obey.
I plant the dildo on the floor, upright, pull my shirt off over my head and drop it. The rubbery thing buzzes violently when I trigger it by holding down a raised spot on the base. The dildo is at least ten inches long, and if she tries she might fully impale herself.
