I sigh. “I don't know what to call you.”
You don't name things you don't want to grow attached to; it's why my father called the family dog 'that fucking hound'. That had been an important part of the process for me when I was buying her, but now it feels wrong. This is a real person... a beautiful, perfect toy for me, but a person, nonetheless.
I cup water in my palm and drip it across her breast, warming the parts of her that the water hasn't yet submerged. I watch it run down her soft stomach, pooling in her belly button, and drip more water over her, letting it rain slowly, gently on her bruised body.
Her nipple pebbles beneath my touch as I run my thumb and forefinger over it, rolling it between them and watching as her other one rises too, seeking my touch. I grant it, pulling her nipples beneath my fingers, savoring the stretch, the feel of her flesh, the way she doesn't try to bat me away. I feel myself hardening as I manipulate her beneath my touch, drawing a little breath out of her that makes my balls draw tight with need.
I want to hear more of her sounds... It's what has me sitting up, taking her with me until we're sitting together, her knees open between mine.
To be so relaxed with her is a marvel. There’s no pressure to contain my beast, no pressure to balance her pleasure with mine or to fill the minutes with frivolous speech. No asking me about my hideous family or why I am the way that I am. There’s no expectation of a ring, a wedding, or a child.
We just exist together, with her completely at my whim as I stroke between her legs, familiarizing myself with her body. The short hairs there tickle my hand, and I like the way it feels.
I like the wayshefeels. I like everything about her—her soft shoulder that I press a kiss to, her taut stomach that I can’t wait to see my cum pooling on, and her warm pussy that invites me in so graciously.
I can't resist slipping a finger inside, sinking up to my second knuckle. Her breath comes faster, and a glance out of the corner of my eyes assures me she's still not conscious. Whatever they gave her was a fucking miracle drug, letting her feel the pleasure I'm so desperate to give her but keeping her in a dream state. I wonder what's going on behind those eyelids, if she's imagining someone else. Is she dreaming of another man doing these things to her? Is she imagining she's weightless and insubstantial and that it is all in her head? Is she trying to conjure up an idea of me, the way humans try to conjure up an idea of something greater than themselves?
I never realized I had a God complex, but it's incomparable, having absolute control like this. I can already tell the power is going to my head—both heads, actually.
I ease out from behind her, careful not to let her slip and nail her head against the porcelain tub. When I'm ready for her to die, it won't be an accident. It will be meticulous, ritual.
I will savor every minute of it. And until then, I will savor every minute of having her body.
When she rests against the back of the tub, I situate myself between her legs, charting a path with my fingers. I've never fucked someone underwater before, so I expect resistance that I don't meet with.
She's not as wet, maybe, but when I push my cock inside of her, it doesn't matter. She's perfectly warm, squeezing me impossibly tight given that the rest of her body is as good as jelly, pliable under my touch. Her head bobs as I pull back to get some leverage and then again when I thrust deep inside, establishing a rhythm to fuck her to.
It's not a gentle one.
The water slaps around us, sloshing over the sides of the bathtub with my every move, reaching higher up her chest and splashing against her bouncing tits as I hammer into her. She moans loud enough to draw my attention to her face, and when I look up at it, it's to see it contorted with what looks like discomfort. I can only open her up so deep in the bathtub, so there's no room to spread her open, to make it easy for her body to accommodate me.
Maybe that's why the friction feels more intense this time... and maybe that's why I can't quite get there.
Frustration mounts inside me as it becomes clear this isn't working, so I grip her thighs and yank her closer, fitting myself deeper inside of her. I don't hear what sound she makes as she disappears under the surface of the water, her hair billowing out around her. Just her nose pokes out of the water, enough for her to still breathe. It's a happy accident, but I appreciate it regardless, because I wouldn't have had the foresight to make sure she didn't drown. Not when I'mballs deep inside of her and so desperate to drive her through the porcelain and straight into hell.
We can stay there together; it's the place a monster like me belongs, anyway.
“Fuck, babydoll.” I groan, biting my lip as I watch her below the clear water. She looks like a creature from another world, a mermaid or some sort of siren. She's already trying to lure me to the depths of hell without even opening her eyes, let alone her mouth.
But I'm a goner for her, spellbound by how fucking ethereal she is.
I fold her further and pinch her nose shut, curious what will happen when her air supply dwindles. It doesn't take me long to find out, because her mouth opens and water rushes in, filling her lungs. Her choking is immediate, and so is my reaction to it. Her entire body spasms— and I do mean the entire thing. Her walls squeeze me tighter, desperate, contracting around my cock like they can siphon oxygen from there to save her. It's too much, making her squeeze me too tight. If she were awake, I'd think she was trying to strangle it to punish me for helping myself to her body.
But her eyes are still closed, though the peacefulness is gone from her face. Her eyes are squeezed shut, like she's fighting to stay asleep, to make the transition to her death that much easier, and her entire body is involved in the fight. She twists and turns beneath me, seeking air as if she just keeps trying, she'll eventually manage to succeed.
I don't let go of her nostrils until I'm shooting my cum so deep inside her, so hard I feel it could come out her nose. Obviously, I know the anatomy doesn't work that way, but I'm so deep inside of her that it feels like I'm in her chest, her throat.
I'll have to watch her choke on my cum after I've fucked her mouth.
When I'm done, I collapse against her, barely able to hold my head out of the water.
She drowns for a moment longer as I fight to reclaim the energy to move, breathing through the pulsing pleasure deep inside of me.
She's dying, her motions slowing as she gives up the fight.
Let her go,the beast whispers.Let her die and then see how many times you can fuck her before her pussy is cold.
I want to watch her fight until she stops completely. I want to see the last bit of air that her body held onto escape from her lungs as a bubble on the surface of our bathwater. I want to take her life and claim it, to play with her body in ways I can't when she's alive.
