He licks along my earlobe and pauses, inhaling my dark strands.
He’s teasing me, pushing the boundaries of my body. It scares me how erotic his sick fantasies are, but I keep coming back for more. I can’t stayaway. I must be a glutton for punishment. He maneuvers the blade with his knuckles, flipping it so the sharp end is tight against his palm.
Blood spills down his palm and wrist, dripping down the handle. He edges the lace panties to the side with the bloody handle, exposing my most intimate, private area. “Every note you miss, I’m gonna shove this so deep inside that pretty little cunt, Songbird.”I gasp and brush over the wrong key again. My entire body is hyperaware. His presence is smothering. I feeleverybreath he takes. Every jolt of his hard member against my backside.
The handle spreads my lips apart before pressing against my entrance. I tense up against him, struggling to keep my composure. Never have I struggled to finish a song more than at this moment.
I hear him hiss and growl as he breeches my pussy. His grip tightens on my neck.
The handle is inside less than an inch, and I’m already embarrassingly wet. Tears threaten to resurface. This shouldn’t turn me on. What the hell is wrong with me? I try to keep my keystrokes timed. I’ve always used music as an escape, a gateway into another dimension to free my mind, but right now, all I can concentrate on is how good the carved wooden handle feels inside of me. Each touch brings me a wave of pleasure, and I’m ready to drown in this feeling forever. This is more freeing than any song I could ever play. My hand slides off the keys, and he sinks it deeper inside me.
I gasp and pitch forward, slamming my hands down on the keys. My ends of my hair brush against the piano as I sink forward.
“Did I ask you to stop?” he asks darkly, squeezing my neck so tight stars burst in my vision.
“Please,” I choke out. I don’t even know what I’m begging for.
He slips the blade inside another inch. The blood dripping down his arm paints my thigh with dribbles of crimson dots. He doesn’t even flinch at the pain. Instead, he only seems to grow harder against me. His cock presses against my back. When I don’t start playing, he glides it in all the way, effortlessly. Letting him indulge in his sick desires makes me that much wetter.
I know deep down this isn’t normal, but maybe this is what I’ve always needed. I’ve always been a good girl, sheltered and obedient. Maybe it’s time to let these dark fantasies play out. “Ever tasted blood, songbird?” he rasps.
I twist my head around to find a darkness surrounding him and his piercing gray eyes full of lust. Those crescent eyes pull me back into his madness.
He licks his inner cheek and moves my hair aside. He removes his hand from my throat and sweeps at the blood on his opposite wrist with his finger. He brings it to my mouth while fucking me steadily with the knife handle. I grind shamelessly against the wood, the ribbed handle caressing that spot deep inside me.
I wrap my lips around his finger, tasting his lifeblood. Somehow it makes me feel connected to him, delivering me to the same wavelength as his insanity.
“Look at you, your lips painted inmyblood. Would look perfect with my cum too.” His voice sounds malevolent.
My insides are on fire, he releases his finger and rubs it over my lips, cheek, and nose, painting me with his essence. It feels like a claim. Something feels portentous, like an ominous warning, but I can’t heed it. Desire builds within me, threatening to crest. I let my body sag against his chest. He works the handle until I’m ready to explode. I try to pick up the song again but fail.
“Gonna show you how good the pain feels, songbird." And with his final, forbidding words, he grips the strands at the crown of my head, wrapping my dark hair around his fist, and sinks his teeth into my neck so deeply he draws blood. The knife slams so hard inside my fleshy pussy it jams into my cervix.
My body descends over the edge, lifting my feet off the ground with the ferocity of my orgasm. I reach out, blindly clawing his sweatpants. He pulls the knife handle free and glides the ribbed, carved edges over my clit. It throbs as my orgasm crests. He works the handle viciously. I’m on a collision course with destruction. Blood from his wrist, palm, and arm splatter over my body and the piano. We’re both covered in crimson; the area looks like a crime scene.
He lets out a deep exhale as my body goes slack, my long, tangled hair sticking to my face.
“I will show you your deepest desires.” His tongue darts out to taste me again. He was brought here by the devil himself to taunt me, to haunt me, to bring me to my knees.
My cock is hard as fuckin’ stone. I short circuit the moment her body comes apart on my knife. Hope her smell is forever embedded in the grain of the wood; she’s a poison I want to keep sampling. I know it’s bad for me, but I can’t stop, I need to keep a piece of her with me even after I break her. She’s a dangerous addiction. A fun game—a game I refuse to lose.
I graze the handle over her fluids one last time before bringing it to my mouth. I shiver. Sweeter than anything I’ve ever tasted. My high is slowly wearing off, and I curse under my breath as my demons slip through my well-crafted barrier.
Fuck her raw. Take her violently. Give into the craving. Cut her perfect skin.
I twist the blade around so I’m now gripping the handle. I tap the sharp end of the blade against my temple to silence the demons who want to mark her. They beg me to let the darkness in. I need release; the demons demand sacrifice. If I don’t come they’ll just grow louder, and I’ll break her with my tainted, corrupt ways before I can do what needs done.
“Go,” I grit through my teeth and slam my eyes closed. I’m burning for her and that’s fuckin’ dangerous.
She bristles against me. Her eyes follow my blade. “What?” she asks, dumbfounded.
Does she have no idea how much danger she’s in? I can’t let the crazy free yet. Gotta wait alittle longer.“We’re done. Go,” I repeat coldly, snapping the blade closed. This wasn’t the plan. Have to get her outnowbefore I lose control. The madness of my demons claw at the surface.
She scoffs and fights back the embarrassment. “Fine,” she replies in a clipped tone. She staggers off the leather stool, leaving a pool of blood and cum beneath her that reaches my senses.
She forces her pants up over her hips and snatches her jacket from the floor. I watch her with a cold, detached expression.
She says nothing as she exits the way we came in. She leaves me to clean up the mess. Fine with me. I already have plans for it. The second the door slams shut I fist my cock through my sweats and violently jerk it to the image of her. I take my free hand and rub my hand in her sweet release and lick up my palm, tasting it. It takes me seconds to explode on the dark wood floor. The strongest orgasm I’ve ever experienced rips through me. Ropes of cum escape my pierced cock to the vision of her.
