Quickly I use the sharp blade to slice off his lips like thin strips of deli meat. They land with a soft slap onto the table and Ethan wails in pain, crimson blood spurting out of the open wound on his face. It leaks over his chin like lava from a volcano, and settles into the creases of his neck.
“Yo.. you fucking.. b.. itch!”
Itskin disappointment. Clearly he hasn’t learnt his lesson. “C’mon, fat man. That’s not how you speak to a lady is it?”
Ethan grunts as blood continues to flow out of his lip-less mouth. “Fuck you!” He spits out with malice, “I hope.. your tainted cunt gets ripped.. apart next time you’re.. alone!”
At one point in my life that threat would have sent me spiraling but now, they’re just words. Words that I want to snatch from his vocal cords.
The blade hangs heavy in my hands, eager to slash this disgusting prick open.
“Well, I hate to break it to you buddy but someone already did that and he ended up in tiny pieces, with a rolling pin up his ass that had the skin of his dick on. I’m quite crafty you see.”
Just as Ethan attempts to throw some weak ass threat at me, I lift my hand and slash the blade across his throat. His eyes widen and I know it’s taking a moment for his brain to catch up with what’s just happened. He gurgles on his own blood and I waste no time in ramming my hand inside of the slit in his throat to grab at his vocal cords.
Blood splutters and sprays across my arm and face as I dig around in the warm wetness until my fingers find exactly what they’re looking for. Something spongy, like overcooked pasta or soggy food sitting in the drain at the bottom of the sink, brushes against my fingers as I grasp his larynx and yank the squishy muscle free from his throat.
Thin strings of sinew stretch like bubblegum as I pull it free, they try to hold on for as long as possible but quickly snap under the pressure, causing a sharp slapping sound to crack against his face.
Ethan gurgles as he tries to inhale any oxygen that he can steal but it’s no use. He begins to choke on his own blood, his body flailing around on the table, fists clenching until the bones of his knuckles threaten to split the bruised skin.
“Any last words, Ethan?” I taunt with his literal voice box, dripping in my hand. Wet blobs splash all over the floor and the faint waft of cheese tingles across my nose.
My mac and cheese! It better not be burnt!
I slap Ethan’s larynx onto his face. “Fuck your last words, and I’ll be seeing you in hell if the bottom of my pan is crusty!”
Just as I’m about to turn away from the table, a cloth is pressed over my nose, forcing a sickly sour smell to smother me. With every inhale, a blackness trickles into the corner of my vision and I feel my body getting weaker by the second, soon I’ll hit the floor but it never happens. I feel no pain or coldness from the ground, instead a hazy, smoked filled voice seeps into my fuzzy head.
“Play dead for me, love. And don’t worry, I turned the hob off.”
Then blackness hits me.
Kincaid
Fuck, just seeing my woman ram her hand into that fuckers throat had me ready to dig a hole in the wall and fuck it, but luckily I have Brynne’s to sink into. As soon as her body becomesa dead weight, I remove the chloroform soaked cloth from her face and shove it into the pocket of my overalls then I scoop her up into my arms and carry her up the stairs.
She’s lucky that I came home when I did, or her cum-filled mac and cheese would have been solidified to the bottom of her favourite pan, and no doubt I’d feel her wrath for it– not that I’d complain about that, she’s fucking delicious when she’s all hot and angry. I do tell her to turn the oven off before she has her fun but all she has to say to that is,“I’m just a girl.”Whatever the fuck that means.
With every step, her head sways against my shoulder. Dried blood speckles her perfect skin like morbid freckles. It’s quite the contrast to her alabaster skin, but she looks so perfect covered in it. Even if the blood isn’t from me, I'm sure I can rectify that little problem sometime. My heavy boots cause the stairs to creak as I take her up to our bedroom, that’s right..our bedroom.The thought makes me grin, the fact that I get to spend every waking hour with this incredible woman. And that she allows me to do this kind of shit to her as well is just an added bonus.
Once I reach the bedroom door, I push it open with my shoulder and gently lay her on the bed before kicking off my boots and stripping off the overalls, leaving me in a pair of black gym shorts and a t-shirt. The heat has been horrendous lately and I refuse to wear my jeans under that sweatsuit.
Brynne snores softly on the bed and the afternoon sun that beams through the window creates an ethereal glow around her. We’ve done this little stunt plenty of times, but each time the excitement grows.
I would recommend to everyone to find themselves a partner who indulges in their hobbies. Whether it be Lego, or in my case— necro play, where I get to do whatever I want to the woman I love who's completely out cold.
All day whilst I’ve been at work, I’ve been thinking about this. About how I would sneak up behind her and smother her perfect face. I haven’t been able to keep myself together just from the excitement alone, and as soon as the job was done I practically raced home.
Slowly her chest rises and falls as she sleeps, her lips parted slightly, eyes rolling around behind her eyelids. I know she can sense me, she always can. We’re two halves of a whole, destined to always find each other.
Carefully I lean over the bed and begin to strip the clothes from her body. Flecks of blood cling to her arms like spilled ink. It only takes me a couple of minutes to strip her bare, leaving her completely naked and vulnerable beneath me. Every single time that I look at her, she takes my breath away.
I grab the pile of clothes and throw them into the washing basket in the corner of the room before heading over to the bedside unit on her side of the bed. The drawer is smooth on the runners as I open it to reveal ourfriends.Battery operated ones that is.
Men need to realise that these brightly coloured fun-sticks are our friends, and not the enemy. Believe me, your girl will thank you once you realise that.
My hands buzz with excitement at what I want to choose first. The red rose with the vibrator attached is always Brynne’s favourite, so I grab that one and bring it over to her unconscious body. I place the toy onto the thick quilt and gently run my hands up her legs, immediately goosebumps prickle to life on her skin.
