She's silent and still as her head falls to the side, her cheek grazing the cold surface as I crawl between her legs and appraise what I haven't yet seen. She's well-groomed, with a shaved pussy that makes me want to dive right in. Thereare no bruises on her, no cuts or blood from her or anyone else. She's pristine... mostly.
I almost miss the scars on her inner thighs. They're clearly old, flat, and shiny beneath the light overhead. They've long since healed from whatever broke her skin, but the marks give me pause when I realize they look more like letters than incidental flicks from a blade. I run my hands over them, needing to feel them beneath my touch, as if that will help me make out what they mean. It doesn't, but when I turn my head a certain way, I see a cross.
No, not a cross... a T.
I cock my head, looking for the next letter, convinced there's a message here for me to decode. When I see nothing, I walk around to her side and grip her leg, yanking it so that I can see from her own angle. That's when I notice the V...
When I see the I before it, I rack my brain, trying to figure out what the letters could mean. But the S at the start of it helps everything else slide into place. It's not a V or an I. It's a U and an L.
S-L-U-T.
My stomach twists ridiculously, irritation peaking at the realization that someone called my perfect little doll a slut... that someone dared to desecrate her body with that word enrages me even more. I only checked a box to receive a female between the ages of twenty and thirty; I didn't specify a race, a college education, or any of those inferior things that our society places value upon.
But the fact that she couldn't be more than mid-twenties gives me pause, given how old those scars look. This isn't something that some jealous ex did because she looked at another man. In fact, judging by the angle, I'm assuming this is something she did herself... at far too young of an age to be a slut, no doubt.
I press my kiss to the word, wishing I could wipe it away, just like I rinsed the sterile scent off of her.
My lips next to her pussy make her moan, and I look up to see her lips parted just the slightest bit, like they're trying to make it easier for her to breathe in the pleasure about to come. I'll kiss her mouth next, but right now, she's glistening, wet... ready for me.
I don't want to just crawl on top of her and thrust a few times to empty myself, though.
I want to taste her... so that's exactly what I do.
The first experimental stroke of my tongue over her clit is firm; it makes her draw in a deep, shaky breath, and I swear her hips ease, falling open further to grant me more access to her. I take it gladly, watching as I run up the length of her.
I expect her eyes to pop open, but they don’t so much as flutter as I prod at her tight entrance with the tip of my tongue, a groan tearing through me at the sweet and musky aroma of her… the taste.
She’s heavenly, crisp, and juicy like the apples she smells like.
Having her all to myself like this is nirvana, an absolute, unsplintered bliss. There’s no urgency, just opportunity for me to get to know my precious doll in ways she probably doesn’t even know herself. I chart every detail of her body—the soft curves on her stomach, the dip between her hips, and the tiny mole below her right breast.
I’m amazed by how much her body enjoys the things I’m doing. Is she a really good little whore or just well-trained? If she were awake, would her body be responding the same way?
Making her come wasn’t part of the plan, but as I explore her with my tongue, she moans and shivers beneath me. I wonder if she’s lost in a memory of a former lover or if this is all for me. Either way, I’m addicted to her pleasure. The sweet, soft sounds that leave her involuntarily are an addiction all their own, making it hard for me to control myself. She likes what I’m giving her, the slow roll of my tongue over her clit. She especially likes it when I pull the whole thing into my mouth and suck gently, her arousal seeping out onto the stone below her. I can feel it in my trimmed beard, and I never want to wash it again. It would be a fucking honor to walk around with her scent clinging to me.
“Such a pretty slut for me.” I purr, watching as her hips rock, seeking the stimulation I'm giving her.
When her thighs tense, I realize I’ve driven her to craving. If she were awake, she likely wouldn’t want this pleasure, too worried about the factthat she doesn’t know me, burdened by conventions like the fact that I’m a killer to enjoy herself properly. With her consciousness shut off, her body craves the stimulation, the only reminder it’s getting that she is still alive.
Her eyes don’t pop open when she comes on my tongue, her warm juices flowing over my chin. I only know she’s coming because her hips arch, seeking my sinister friction before I can leave her strung out. I can’t resist sliding a finger into her, but she’s so slippery, I immediately add a second, hooking them inside her and turning my palm up so that my fingers can probe deeper inside of her.
Her scream is muffled by her thighs trying to clamp around my head, snaring me in place so that I don’t let go all through the orgasm. And it’s a long one—longer than I knew anyone could go. Her toes dig into points on my forearms, and her hips push her pussy further into my face in an offering that I would be rude not to take.
I drain her, refusing to stop until a final gasp sounds from somewhere deep in her belly and the heavy sound of her head smacking against the table pulls me from the bliss.
Looking up, I see her flat again, her body exhausted, completely pliable again. Her face is serene, delicate lips parted as her chest heaves in dramatic, exhausted breaths.
It’s glorious… but I’m not done with her yet.
Not even close.
Fuck.
My cock is still throbbing, jumping eagerly at each fantasy. I want to fill her veins with the stuff that will take away her pain, letting her body experience the euphoria of being fucked while she's on another level.
I’m going to turn her into a slip n slide by the time I’ve had enough to leave her for the night.
When I slide my cock into her, her walls clamp around me, and a long moan pulls from the back of her throat.
