Symphony of Decay (TheSluttyBanshee x Deranged)

[TheSluttyBanshee]

The street was dark and cold, the only light provided is from the streetlamps that towered over her and the occasional headlights of a passing car. This was the only time when the streets were voided of life. The sound of music blasting out of windows, the usual yelling, slamming, objects being thrown, and dogs barking non-stop were replaced with nothing but the sound of her heels as they clacked against the concrete sidewalk. It was too early for people to be up but too late for her to have to worry about any trouble...usually. Her usual routine of walking home every day from work was becoming a concern for her well-meaning co-workers. They've been telling her for weeks now that she should really stop staying at work so late so someone could drive her home, or at least let them pay for an Uber for her or something, but she refused them every time. They had the room to say things like that, she didn't. They weren't the ones struggling to meet ends meet as desperately as she was. She had to work as late as possible just so she could pay her bills and maybe have some food on her table. It wasn't like this was anything new for her. Olivia didn't care about the rumors of a supposed serial killer hunting women in the dead of night, she didn't have the time or money to care. Nor, did she ever think she'd be one of his many victims.

She's seen him on the news, at least, they suspect it was a "him" since the police really have no clue what they're dealing with. She's seen the reports of women going missing and turning up days, sometimes weeks later, dead and in horrific conditions. Some of their bodies were so destroyed that they still couldn't identify who they use to be to this day. Some were still missing bits and pieces that were probably sitting at the bottom of lakes or rivers in weighted-down trashbags. But hey, at least all of the news wasn't so bad. There was a company well underway for finding a cure for cancer or something like that, so hooray for some good news for once. She might be hunted down, tortured, and dismembered, but at least she won't die from cancer! Maybe...assuming the cure wasn't well above what she could pay...which it probably will be.

Honestly, after listening to those reports, she understood why the women at her job were so scared, but Olivia knew there were thousands of women in the city. The chances of his next victim being one of them were pretty low. That didn't seem to stop them from worrying about her, but her pride refused to let them buy her rides since she was so determined to keep her chaotic work schedule. She didn't care if a killer was on the loose, she wasn't going to stoop that low. If anything, seeing the way they looked at her with so much pity made her blood boil and it made part of her resent them even more. Olivia was gonna get herself out of this shitty situation one day, and maybe they'll finally stop looking at her with those damn eyes.

Thankfully, the walk from work to home wasn't so bad. She could walk there and back in heels with only minimal pain in her feet. She'd kill for a car of her own, but cars were expensive, even the old and cheap ones with how many repairs she'd likely have to make just to keep them running. Even if she somehow figured out how to make the repairs herself, the parts weren't cheap. Damn car companies and mechanics knew you'd have no choice but to go with their inflated prices, even in a city like this when transportation wasn't so bad. Buses just creeped her out. The constant coughing and sneezing made her skin crawl, and she figured she'd be more in danger if she took a bus. People had the chance to see and evaluate her during the ride, judging her every move and every aspect of her to see if she was someone worth attacking or robbing. She wasn't, but she didn't want to give a creep the chance to think otherwise. She was better off just walking.

Olivia made it up the steps to her apartment complex and made her way inside. The apartment complex was far from glamourous, likely not even worthy of a two-star rating, but it was what she could afford. The dead lobby alone gave her the creeps as the dim lights flickered as she quickly made her up to and up the stairs. Exhaustion was starting to hit her as she made it down the long line of rooms down the hallway. The wallpaper itself looked like it hadn't been updated or changed since the day this building was first built. The white within its pattern looked more yellow now, but at least the rooms themselves weren't so bad. She pulled out her keys and opened the door to her apartment and quickly stepped inside. She shut the door and instantly locked it. A lock as flimsy as the one she had wasn't going to fare well if a crazed woman killer decided to bang on her door, but knowing it was locked gave her some peace of mind despite that. It was the illusion of safety that helped her sleep at night.

She sighed and dropped her purse by the front door and kicked her heels off before walking deeper into her old apartment. Her furniture was donated to her by the people at work who didn't need them anymore or were getting something nicer instead. It was better than nothing, but Olivia hoped she'd get her own furniture someday. It wasn't like she had a bad job. In fact, it paid rather well, but...Olivia had a lot of past mistakes to make up for. Loans to pay, debts that needed to get paid off before they come to take one of her fingers...those things on top of bills and rent made prospering difficult but compared to who she used to be, it was progress. Maybe one day she could even have something other than cheap takeout as a luxury meal. Maybe she'll get lucky and meet a rich, nice man who'd instantly fall for her and fix all her problems like something straight out of a rom-com. Oh, her life was a comedy alright, but Olivia was the only one who wasn't laughing.

Deciding to skip dinner again, she went straight to her bathroom instead. Her hands held onto the sink as she sighed and looked at herself in the mirror. Olivia was far from unattractive by most standards, but that tired look in her eyes was undeniable. She was a woman with many problems that weren't going away quickly. She used to look a hell of a lot worse too, so in a way, that tired look in her eye being her least attractive trait was a pretty damn big win for her. She started to strip out of her work clothes, groaning as her body ached from sitting at a desk for far too long. She pulled off her jacket first to reveal a plain white shirt underneath. The fabric was just thin enough to faintly show the color of her bra underneath, something she was sure her boss didn't mind seeing, but Olivia didn't have the money for nice shirts to better hide what bra she picked that day, so she just covered herself with a jacket most of the time. That and...one other reason.

The needle-point scars in her arms were finally starting to fade. Now that she hadn't used for about a year, what remained of her past was finally starting to disappear. Another big win for a woman with so little in her life. It gave Olivia a nice feeling that she was strong enough to kick that habit that was gonna kill her someday, but there was always the underlying fear that she was gonna relapse someday. She liked to think that all previous users had that fear, it made her feel less alone.

She pulled her shirt up and off of her, letting it fall on the floor as she turned her attention to getting her bra off next. Her pale skin and womanly curves got her a lot of unwanted attention in the past, but it was her well-developed chest that caused her the most problems. She's had people tell her she could probably make a killing as a stripper, and Olivia will admit that she's thought about doing it in it the past, but her fear of relapsing kept her off the pole and stuck to her desk instead. She let out a relieved groan as her breasts were freed, feeling that ache of a long day trapped behind a restrictive bra that only a fellow woman could understand. She dropped her skirt next, letting it fall down her shapely legs and expose her shapely rear barely hidden by a pair of panties. That's when she decided to turn her attention to her old shower and start the water in hopes that her water heater didn't die on her again and that the water wasn't gonna come out brown or black like the last time. The pipes rattled as water traveled up through them, but luckily for her, the water came out clear. Now, all she had to do was hope and pray it'll warm up soon as she tried to ignore this growing feeling that something was watching her...

 

[Deranged]

'𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘥.......'

They say every cloud has a silver lining. If that's true, it would be very difficult to find the silver lining in this particular cloud.
No, it's not physical, and it's components can not be seen with the eyes. Hell, they don't even respond to light in any form whatsoever. The cloud in question was tucked firmly inside the mind of a particular figure.....a force, a harbinger and seeker of the iron grip of pain.

Is he a man?.....was he ever a man? Those are questions that he himself found pretty difficult to give a direct answer to. There were times when he'd been human....very much so, other times, not quite. He always seemed to ping-pong on the humanity meter, and you just never know which variant of him you were gonna get.

There were the frail depths, the times when his position on the humanity meter dipped below human....𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯. Those phases of abysmal frailty had seemed to melt away slowly, yet pass so fast as they blurred and merged with each other.
Days spent bedridden, eyes swollen and shut, while different people hovered over him with emotions ranging from worry to pure fascination.
The 𝘩𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘳 who fussed over him had primarily been his mother during his pre-teen "crises". However, as his abysmal phases became worse and he got older and more irritated with the idea of saddling the poor woman with his own failings, the fascinated medical personnel and intrigued human biology experts gradually replaced her in that picture.

𝘖𝘩, 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 "𝘶𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦" 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯!

It didn't matter what he tried. What he did and did not do. He ran so many tests, volunteered for so many experimental techniques and saw so many experts till he lost count and became practically estranged from his family due to "intense monitoring programmes."
Of course, it didn't take long for the depression to set in. Turns out that living in and out of hospital and planes tends to ruin whatever chance you get at having a "normal social life."

He naturally began to speak less and less to the usually much older (and let's face it, fascinated professional) people who were racing against the clock (and their peers) to be the one to unlock the mysteries of and manage his baffling condition.
By the time he was seventeen, he had literally made so many "mental models" of what his life could have been and what he wanted it to be. So much so that he had no less than three fully fleshed out variants of himself living in his mind!

The physical inadequacy and unreliability of his pale body was bad enough, but he always found a way to bear it....to push on. Several thought trains like: 'Just think what mom's going through....of course, I can't say what DAD'S going through since he's decided to vanish but.....' - 'Let's look at it like this; at least I'm still alive. I even live in an age where you don't have to be in an actual classroom to learn and....' had run through his mind in desperate attempts to maintain a semblance of the shell of acceptability and approval.

However, when the psychological aspect of his problems began to manifest....when his mother began to find her multiple trips to different places holding him a little too tedious (it got more pronounced when she got married to some guy and even had a girl with him.)
It was then that his alternate personalities began to flesh out even more....it was then that his fantasies started to mould into his reality.

With a computer as his best friend, it's no surprise that he became an expert on how they worked. At first, it was about finding better ways to communicate with it....to do MORE with it. When his self reflections got the first entry from that angry voice in his head however: 'Face it Andy! You're weak! Frail, and will continue to remain so if you don't become ruthless and 𝘛𝘈𝘒𝘌 everything you want! Stop waiting for things to sort themselves out, get out there and 𝘔𝘈𝘒𝘌 things go 𝘠𝘖𝘜𝘙 way you fragile little pussy!'
At first it had sounded like a desperate cry for help from his twisted psyche to him, a testament to just how pathetic and frail he was in that moment. Of course, he didn't take the first wave of those outbursts seriously.
Experimentation though, is practically inevitable when boredom is in the very air you breathe. He soon began to find reason in those graphic thoughts. Soon enough, he was experimenting with their contents. It started with a bit of internet fraud just for the hell of it (not that he had much use for the money stashed in the accounts he had "opened" for himself at the time) then came hacking social media accounts....linking that to people's phones and computers and he was soon treating himself to a ton of trophy photos and hacked "private footage."

The burst of adrenaline he got from that sudden sway to the dark side was delicious. Of course, he was a teenager. He was curious....curious to know what women had beneath all those clothing.....even more curious to know what old boys and men were supposed to find interesting in them.
Oh, there were so many things he was curious about! What did men and women get up to together, that springs those powerful emotions loose in them? Why should it do so? What was the true value of money when it can't even buy you an "all illness pass elixir" to enable you actually 𝘓𝘐𝘝𝘌 life?

So many rabbit holes to burrow into.....so much about life he had to learn! Left solely to his own devices to pick what topic to "research" upon, and what inferences to draw from his findings, he of course made some very interesting "discoveries". Discoveries that directly altered his mentality and maturity.
The burst of adrenaline worked well for the first few months, however, it didn't take long for it to begin to wear off. He wanted more......he 𝘕𝘌𝘌𝘋𝘌𝘋 more too. He wasn't quite sure where he was gonna find more, but he was a hundred percent convinced that he wouldn't find much more being stuck as a lab rat and enduring countless tests and procedures that were not doing him any real good. (The tests had intensified during his adrenaline rush period; the egg headed fools had the gall to think that their experimental procedures were actually working! 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵!
He knew better though, since his condition had taken a simultaneous slump with the depleting levels of adrenaline he got from his internet fantasy life.)

You know what was bound to happen next though. Andy simply disappeared with his best friend (the laptop), and three fully fleshed dissociative personalities swirling in his psyche. (That must've left the eggheads hurt, shocked and incredibly winded too...even moreso when his Hollywood arrest and trial became public knowledge!)

A small frown etched itself on the face of the said figure as he paced absently on a barely crowded sidewalk filled with a mixture of night-crawling, hedonistic fucks thronging to their haunts, and the occasional hard worker heading home . 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯.....
Of course, he knew what it meant for him and what he had to do. Truth be told, he was a bit surprised that it took this long for the thoughts to invade his mind, however, he shrugged them off before any further entry into his twisted history could be registered in his mind for now.
It hasn't been too long since he had made his miraculous glide away from his life of condemned incarceration, and he's been spending the better part of his days (and nights) since then, figuring out how his new body works. (While doing some much needed catching up with his life of remote, internet based crime that now had ransomware on the long winding list. He could muse to himself about being the perfect invisible predator, both on and off the internet!)

With the familiar pulses rippling at the base of his spine and the back of his neck, he knew that it was time for him to get some excitement....the dark and twisted kind.
He didn't have any particular destination in mind, as he was making his first foray into the public scene since he had gone on a sporadic spree of five abductions in the span of little over a month, to stave the insane thirst that followed his dubious release from condemnation. He had a bit of the "butterflies" gnawing at his stomach however, as he made the realization that it was time for "Andy" to become "Agony" again.

He somehow wound up in an alley, he wasn't paying conscious attention to his fleeting steps, but he sure as hell was paying attention to the people in his field of vision now. The alley was of course, quite dark, but it didn't bother him much at all (was that a result of serving three years in maximum security, or spending well over half his life stuck indoors?)
He was on the prowl alright, a relatively secluded alley like this one would surely provide a good playing field for Agony to hunt without drawing too much unwanted attention (he's still not cocksure of the dynamics surrounding his new body yet, better reason to play it relatively safe because, he's been bitten once by the law and is now twice shy of them.)

Seclusion however, would also mean limited prey since-

A throaty groan from somewhere near him drew his attention. By the time he could whip his head to the direction it was coming from, two more of varying pitch had registered in his ears.
The images were slightly shifty at first, but the closer his fleeting steps took him to the scene, the clearer it became to him.

Two men, one woman. No! They're not having a quick threesome in the alley! (Or at least, not at the moment.) They all had their backs turned to the fleetingly invading figure of Agony, and his barely audible steps were blotted out effectively by the range of vocalizations that the "threesome" (see what I did there?) before him were producing.

"-left town for a bit, just a bit! And you thought it was OKAY to fuck my girl behind my back ain't that right?!"

One of the men who was bigger and a lot angrier than the other one who must've been caught literally with his pants down, boomed at the latter. The irritated Romeo had two voluminous arms that were covered in ink, poking and flexing from the jacket to his overall biker outfit.
The other guy....well, he was 𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴. The woman in question too was infact, pantless, and she was still gleaming with the sweat and fluids of her tryst. However, if she was remorseful or even afraid of the wrath of her big, wronged lover, she certainly showed no hint of it!

Infact, she was chuckling almost as throatily as her "forbidden snack" had been grunting. She unzipped her shimmering body from between the wall and the apparently shell-shocked man who must've been fucking her into said wall moments ago, and stepped around him to face him with a Jezebel-like smirk. She was quick to follow up with a tasteful insertion of the glowing stick dangling between two surprisingly strong looking, howbeit slender fingers on her left hand, into her open lips that closed on the stick almost immediately after.

Mr "Betrayer" obviously had his wits all over the place, and as if to reinforce that state, Romeo swung his tightly clenched right fist towards his jaw with a depraved sense of malice.

𝘊𝘙𝘈𝘚𝘏!

A sick riff of crunches rang through the heated air of the alley and echoed against the neighboring walls. They were accompanied by the short, stunned yelp uttered by Betrayer as his head sailed freely. First, it crashed against the wall, then, it bounced off and swung downwards at an angle as his whole body jerked leftwards, before his face got planted to the ground with a little bounce.

"Fuck you! You fucking pig! I give you my back and you stab it at the first given opportunity!"

Romeo was yelling with his slightly bloodied fist pumping in fury. Ms. "Hotstuff" on the other hand, was genuinely enjoying herself thoroughly. Infact, if it isn't for the fact that she was already glistening by the time she peeled herself off the wall, one might easily conclude that the showdown was turning her on and was primarily responsible for the fluids coating her nude skin.(further evidence of her enjoyment was in how much flair she put into blowing off the excess nicotine in her smoke.)

Betrayer was stunned, it was clear in the dazed look that framed his face as blood streamed out of his nose and pattered all over the ground. He managed to look up at the woman whose fleshy walls were being an incredible sleeve to his dangling, now half-erect cock a little under four minutes ago. She was basically unruffled as she took a gutsy, all out stance next to an incredibly raging Romeo.
The look she had on her face was of intense intrigue....she was enjoying this....way too much. He had to have been fucking set up! But by who? Was Romeo in on it too? It was hard to tell as the big guy had a temper much bigger than anything close to a brain in that solid skull of his.

His vision began to blur a bit as the blow he took to the face had thoroughly sent his brain ping-ponging all over his cranium. (He was actually surprised that he still had anything close to consciousness at his disposal)
Romeo's boots came into focus, but they were quick to flicker and glaze out as his vision began to glitch again due to the effort he put into using his buckling arms to push himself up a bit. The whole motion was one painstaking and protracted display from a pathetically weakened man (kinda makes you wonder how good a cocksleeve Hotshot had been to him. He didn't appear to have been able to shake himself completely off the sexual daze like Hotshot seemed to have done without trying.)

His lower lip was a mess of torn, bloodied flesh that was practically useless as far as speech was concerned. That might not necessarily be a bad thing though, it's not like he had much to say to the seething Romeo anyway, not to mention that the pigheaded fuck would probably not hear a word of anything he said.

𝘚𝘔𝘈𝘚𝘏!

One of Romeo's boots appeared to have come from nowhere in a mighty swing. Betrayer wasn't even aware of the transition that his quivering body made from being face down on quivering arms and knees, to rocketing backwards and slamming into the wall behind him head first.
The one thing he did register though, was a blinding darkness spotted with a million bright colors that should not be in his usual pallette. (Hehehe! The good ol' stars of daze)
His head bounced forward harshly, but his rapidly swooning body made sure that it went in for another smack against the wall. After that, his head slid downwards slowly, leaving a trail of thick blood smearing the wall.

Time ceased to exist for him, but somehow.... somehow he could still think. Could still laugh in spite himself in hindsight.
He really should've seen this coming and maybe he did. Romeo like most gang leaders was a highly territorial bastard, and of course, with so many ladies under his grasp and only so many swimmers and libido to go around......it's no surprise that some of his girls would look elsewhere to get their sexual cravings sated.

Enter Hotshot....an absolute Jezebel. She knew how much Romeo thought of him and how incensed he would be to find out that there was anything akin to betrayal coming from him. Somehow, all that only made her lock on to him as the ultimate object of her backyard ops fantasies.
He really wasn't stupid, and he went out of his way to push her away too. However, Jezebels are every man's worst nightmare. She was too driven for him. Maybe he could've been stronger, maybe he should have. However, there's no denying the fact that he was into her thoroughly, after a year of mind bending teasing on her part. He knew deep down, everyday and everytime he made a rendezvous with her...everytime he drove himself deeper into those damn walls and entangled himself deeper into her web that it would not end well for him.
He just never knew when and how nemesis would catch up with him....seems like he could finally stop worrying about those two parasitic questions now huh?

He didn't know how long it took, and why it even happened, but his eyes opened. His vision was surprisingly not blurry too. He was still in the alley, with Romeo and Hotstuff in front of him.
Hotstuff was speaking with the brazen flow of a woman with no shame, fear or remorse whatsoever, while Romeo listened with every single muscle in his bulky frame tensing like coiled springs.

"-.......well, look now, he's awake already. Finish it."

Why he was able to even hear the vixen croon, he wasn't sure. He was however sure that he was not gonna see the next sunrise. It's all common-sense really.
Romeo didn't need telling twice before he pulled out a gun from somewhere in his jacket and aimed it dead-center on Betrayer's forehead, while looming over his downed frame with an intense look of hatred. Classic "revenge killing" pose, and as both men locked eyes for what was apparently the last time, Betrayer seemed to be the one who would have the last laugh....ugly and hacky as the chuckle he could muster was.

".....that's one 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦 piece of cunt you got there.....I....had to...."

𝘉𝘈𝘕𝘎!.....𝘉𝘈𝘕𝘎! 𝘉𝘈𝘕𝘎! 𝘉𝘈𝘕𝘎!

Blood, skull fragments, skin tissue, brain matter.....you name the culprit. They all joined the messy splatter-party that painted the walls and the surrounding floor, not to mention Romeo in a grotesque shade.
The big brute was still actually squeezing the trigger with jaws tightly clenched. When he realized that there were no more bullets left, he resorted to using his boots to stomp away like a kid throwing a tantrum, while he yelled incomprehensible shit and spluttered in indignation.
Hotstuff must've had enough of the whole drama, because she turned to leave instead of paying him any heed.....that's when she heard it.

"𝘎𝘰𝘰𝘥....𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩? 𝘋𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴...."

The voice of their stealthy spectator wasn't too loud to be honest, but it was very hard to miss. Maybe it's because of the darkness and malice that seemed to coat it despite it's tinge of amusement.

Hotstuff saw him first, and was arrested by the silver streak that seemed to separate his black cap of hair into two eerie, yet oddly fascinating halves, it was bright, unnatural and oddly entrancing.... so were his eyes.
At first, she wanted to engage the fascinating stranger as she did feel a strange pull to him, (or maybe she just wanted to spite Romeo even harder) when the context of his words reached her though, her face twisted into a frown and she hissed so loudly and venomously, that it alone could really make anyone think twice about further pissing her off.

"See? 𝙎𝙚𝙚?! Shit like this is what I get when you won't do 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 job Scales!"

She must've been just as incensed by the stranger's remark, as Romeo was about her tryst because she marched up to him and yanked his arms so hard that the big guy was literally shaking.

"Hey kiddo, you best be running on home now. Better mind ya business in future too you hear? You're lucky I'm letting you walk at all, but you better scram before I change my mind..."

Romeo's threat was one of a man who was settling into an icy rage. His threats and decision weren't good enough for the relentless woman clawing at him though.

"That puny bastard asked you to OFF me, and you're gonna let him live?!"

She was livid, but Romeo or Scales seemed to be the better for it. Serves her nude ass right for cheating on him with one of his most trusted henchmen!
He kept a standard intimidating glare on the stranger just for his benefit. Part of him wished the stranger wouldn't bolt like anyone in their right senses so she could suffer some more. There was no other gun nearby, perhaps why she hasn't-

"Fine then! You bastards are so useless anyways, I'll do it my damn self!"

She stalked off into the darkness briskly, and returned just as quickly with a gun aimed at the stranger who still hadn't moved. Scales chuckled as she approached with the venom and aim to finish the job, but he offhandedly snatched the gun from her without much restraint and yet another hiss on her end, before aiming at the stranger.

"Dunno if you're that dumb kid, or if you're high 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘳𝘶𝘯. Either way, you picked the wrong alley to prowl."

𝘉𝘈𝘕𝘎!

There was the familiar sound of a bullet zipping into flesh, instead of dropping dead however, the stranger's head merely snapped back to the tune of a maniacal laugh. There wasn't any notable blood splatter, and the bullet could be heard dropping ominously with a 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬.
The couple were a bit fazed, but not entirely taken aback.

It was a different story entirely however, about five shots and bouts of maniacal cackles later, when the advancing stranger had closed in on the couple till he was within touching distance. Shock was an understatement.....they were terrified!

"ℕ𝕚𝕔𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕪 𝕓𝕚𝕥𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕤.....𝕞𝕪 𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟!"

The voice that snapped into the retreating pair was unnatural for sure. It sounded like the raving of a madman! Scales somehow plucked the courage to charge towards the much smaller stranger. He swung a fist wildly with a yell, it connected and sent the stranger's head snapping sideways as he whirled round like a hurricane. Instead of falling however, he stopped a moment later, flashed something out from his pocket, and whirled rapidly like a spinning top in the opposite direction!

𝘚𝘏𝘐𝘐𝘊𝘒! 𝘚𝘏𝘜𝘊𝘒! 𝘚𝘓𝘈𝘚𝘏!

Scales couldn't have been prepared for what happened next. The spinning top had actually retrieved a very sharp combat knife from somewhere, and had managed to stab him twice in the abdomen, and open a wide gash in his throat in one fluid sequence of motion.....all while still spinning and laughing like a demented devil!
Scales' arms shot up to his neck of course, in that futile attempt to stop the jets of crimson from squirting out of the gash. It was a losing battle though, as the ground was faced with the task of dealing with yet another crimson shower from the three quick but damaging wounds he had sustained.

The stranger hopped up and down in glee like a raving lunatic, rushing ahead to take a closer look as his victim stumbled, gasped and coughed in a daze. There was definitely no more fight left in him, yet, the bloody knife dripped anxiously in the hand of it's owner.

"𝔸𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕡𝕚𝕟𝕘, 𝕤𝕚𝕣?"

The stranger asked in a tone that seemed to bear true hints of politeness behind it deranged overtones. The victim could neither make sense of the request, nor acknowledge it, as the silver-streaked stranger dangled the knife over his throat when he finally collapsed in a messy heap.
He did happen to respond to the request however....with a deep grunt and a sigh as he began to fade quickly. The moment it came to the stranger's notice, he lost all semblance of interest in him and left him to his fate in an unceremonious manner.

Hotstuff wasn't just hot, she was just as tough too.....but right now? She was absolutely shattered. It's one thing to see your lover maimed by a sleek, deranged stranger who seems impervious to damage, (okay they had a dysfunctional relationship....it still 𝙬𝙖𝙨 a relationship!) It's another to see that psycho stalking you with lithe feet.
Haven found herself frozen in position during the massacre, (partly because the wall behind her didn't give her any other choices), she began to back away slowly at the stranger's approach.....her throat suddenly felt so dry, and she doubted the cigarette she was smoking earlier had anything to do with it.
To her horror and utter dismay however, she stumbled over something and fell flat on her bare ass! (Oops! Looks like karma picked a quick date with her, her "stumbling block" had been none other than the bleeding body of Betrayer!)

She gulped as a wave of nausea hit her, threatening to make her stomach upend itself and empty it's contents. She tried to scoot backwards in hot haste, but the solid pressure of the wall against her back soon rang the message hard into her skull......𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩!
She floundered a bit as a million and one thoughts and courses of action ran through her mind at once. She didn't even know if it was one of them thoughts, but she found herself uttering a word she couldn't remember using anytime recently.

"𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦....."

Either the stranger didn't hear her, or he didn't care. He closed down on her haphazardly, and placed his boot on her abdomen.

"ℕ𝕠𝕨, 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕚𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕕 𝕞𝕖 𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕚𝕟?.....𝕡𝕦𝕟𝕪..."

𝘔𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘤 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩.

"𝕆𝕙! ℙ𝕦𝕟𝕪 𝕓𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕕! 𝕀 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥!"

She thought his heel was digging into her breaths and stealing them before; when his boot rose and fell violently in one blinding flash though, several sick snaps echoed inside her head and against the walls as she coughed out a breathy grunt. The grunt wasn't the only thing she coughed out however, a gruel of saliva and blood joined the fray, and as white-hot pain seared every fibre she possessed, she knew she was finished.

𝘊𝘙𝘈𝘚𝘏! 𝘚𝘛𝘖𝘔𝘗! 𝘊𝘳𝘢𝘈𝘊𝘬! 𝘊𝘳𝘜𝘯𝘊𝘏!

The laughter melded with the stomps, the stomps merging with the cracks, and everything weaving into the irregular, guttural vocalizations that the hypnotized woman uttered. She clawed, she begged, she scrambled, she bit and tore..... against the hardened soles of a man's boot though, it was not much use. She soon began to moan, to sigh and to cough...then, even those began to recede and play second fiddle to the ramblings of her Insane attacker. He cackled and rambled endlessly to himself as he stomped away like a child in bliss. By the time he looked down though.....

"𝕎𝕖𝕝𝕝....𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕕 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜.....𝕘𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕒 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕞𝕖 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕤𝕦𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕗𝕦𝕟."

With that, he wiped his bloody boots carelessly over the desecrated mangle of the pair that had been having a tryst only few minutes ago, and walked fleetingly back towards the sidewalk. That was his first quick and public rampage, he had always preferred the good ol' "lure, lock and savor" approach. In hindsight, he couldn't say he didn't see it coming, but he wasn't sure he felt it enough to make a regular occurrence of it.

 

[TheSluttyBanshee]

Once the water reached the right temperature for her, Olivia sighed as she pulled her panties down her legs and stepped out of them. Her bare sex was only slightly hidden by her thighs and for once, they weren't covered in bruises. It's been a long time since she's seen a bruise on her skin. Seeing how pale and smooth her thighs looked now served as a reminder of what she's been through and how she no longer suffered in the ways she use to. Naturally, everyone suffered. Money was the biggest cause of adulthood woes and Olivia took a little comfort in knowing that. A lot of people were going through a rough time, and as much as it sucked, it felt a little nice to know that she wasn't alone in her suffering. Even if she'll never meet them, there were people all over the city struggling like she was. And, she hoped that one day, they could all live happy life. Whether or not God truly existed or not, Olivia did find herself praying once in a blue moon that somehow, everything would be okay.

She wasn't a believer per se. She was more like someone who was open to the idea of a god. There certainly seemed to be more going on in their world that even science couldn't explain. She had no idea what it was like beyond the veil, but whatever awaited her when she died...she hoped it was nice. Even if she was faced with an endless black void, she hoped she'd find peace there. If she was doomed to roam the earth as a ghost, then...she guessed that would be okay too. Depending on the rules of ghosthood, which seem to jump from person to person, she could at least try to have some fun before an old priest and a young priest were called on her to force her into yet another plane of existence. Death didn't scare her like it did when she was a little girl, but she was determined to live as long as she could.

Olivia's suffered too damn much to give up anytime soon. Her suffering had to be for something. Maybe it was morbid of her to think that her traumas served a purpose in the long run, but she had to think of a reason why they happened beyond that they just happened. She liked to think whatever was watching over her was helping her become a stronger person for a greater purpose. Not many went through the things she went through and came out okay as she did. Something had to be pulling at the strings of her fate. She was somehow still alive at the end of the day, and she was going to make sure she lived one way or another so that she could fulfill that greater purpose. There had to be a reason these things happened...it just couldn't have been for nothing. It just couldn't.

She stepped into the shower and closed the plain shower curtain. She groaned as warm water beat on her back and rained down on her. Olivia closed her eyes to savor the feeling of water following every curve of her body and washing away the dirt of the world. This is where she felt at her safest. Many might fear being in the bathroom purely at the defenseless of it if they were ever attacked at random, but water made her feel safe. It made her feel warm, her muscles could finally relax, and she adored how each droplet felt like a casing of protection that kept her safe from the dangers and terrors of the world. It was the only time of day she felt completely at peace and she had to savor every moment of it. It was also the best time for her thoughts to run wild. She'd rather it be here than in bed. She's had too many sleepless nights as it is and the longer her mind ran in the shower, the easier it'll be to clear her mind enough for her to get some damn sleep.

She reached for a bottle of cheap shampoo that probably wasn't very good for her hair, but it was the best she could do for herself. She couldn't wait for the day she could drop $80 on a bottle of shampoo and conditioner without worry. That's the kind of wealth she strived to reach. It'll also be nice not having to worry whether or not she'd be okay with buying a $20 hairdryer or not. Just...even the little things were hard for her to get. Not for long though, as she often told herself. She wouldn't be like this forever. She just had to be strong enough to make it. Once her debts were cleared, she could really start saving for a better apartment and really start getting her life together. That's what she had to believe, at least. The alternative wasn't an option in her book.

Once she was done lathering up her hair, she let the shampoo sit as she grabbed a bar of soap and started to wash herself off with a mesh sponge. She got a pack of them for $1, so she was allowed to have that much, at least. Olivia smiled as she felt soap cleanse her body, feeling refreshed and clean even before the soap was washed off of her. Then suddenly, the sound of rapid, but distant noise made her eyes open. It sounded like...gunfire.

Unpleasant memories shot into her. Her back pushed against a concrete wall, a cold sliver gun pointed against her chin, a man twice her size shouting at her...he wanted his damn money. Yes...that's what he said. This was her second warning, and he was starting to get really pissed about her being late again. The anger in his eyes suddenly changed into something different. A look she's seen too many times and dreaded every single set of eyes that looked at her with them. The eyes of realization that she was a pretty girl with a nice body. Things didn't have to end in violence after all...She remembered how her skin tingled as goosebumps ran down her arms as he made the barrel of his gun slide down her neck and down her chest. Just ever so slightly pulling down her shirt to get a better look at her breasts. Maybe he could forgive her this time after all...

She shook those memories away. Olivia wasn't proud of the things she's done to keep her fingers or to even get her next fix when she did that sort of thing. The number of dealers she's blown when she didn't have enough money for her fix was...numerous. The number of times she sold her body just for a taste of that fleeting high that went away faster and faster every time she shot up. She'll never forget how she'd pass out on an old bed on the floor of some old and abandoned building with a rubber hose still tied around her arm. She either woke up to the same man she passed out with or to some stranger trying to grope her in hopes she'd spread her legs for him too like the whore she was. Sometimes she did...sometimes she didn't. The things she use to do to her body were...horrible. She still felt guilt for the abuse she put it through, but she took comfort in knowing she'd never do that again. She was finally getting to a place where she didn't have to do those things anymore. And while Olivia still wouldn't call herself happy, it was something that gave her the hope she needed to keep going.

She didn't know why gunfire would be going off at this time of night, but it wasn't any of her business either. She wasn't going to stick her neck out for anyone right now, especially if it turned out to be the mythical serial killer her co-workers were so worried about. Oooh, wouldn't that be a fun story to tell? If a Netflix documentary was gonna be made on him and she ended up in it, she better make sure she looked good for the camera when she retold her horrible story of how she was so close to one of the killer's slaying. Oh, how she worried for her poor, dear life as she feared being the next victim to such a horrible crime as she shed fake tears for the camera, so she could get paid a little more at the end of the day. That got a little laugh out of her. But instead of calling the police or trying to help in any way, she simply hoped that she was wrong and mistook it for something else. If not...hopefully, the poor bastard the barrel was pointed at made it out okay...unless they deserved it, of course., but she'd leave that part out of the few seconds she had in the Netflix documentary. Once the soap washed off of her, she washed out her hair next. Olivia took her time making sure every inch of her was as spotless as it could be before finally turning the water off. Olivia's feet ached as the soles of her wet feet touched the cold tile floor. She wrapped an old scratchy towel around herself that was almost too small for her to fully wrap herself in. Her wet breasts nearly spilled from the top as a slit opened just enough to expose one of her outer thighs to the world. So long as she kept a hand on it, it should stay on.

Eager to get her feet off of a cold floor, Olivia left the bathroom to wander through her living room and into her bedroom. Her windows were wide open, perfect for anyone to look in and see the beautiful wet woman with nothing but a small towel on. A part of her was paranoid of someone seeing her, especially after hearing gunshots, so she walked to her window and closed the blinds. Luckily, it didn't seem like anyone was outside as far as she could tell. She might not have curtains to help hide her, but her blinds could keep any stalkers she might have from getting too good of a look at her once she closed them. Hope the pervert got a couple of good shots to jerk off to later for those few seconds she was exposed. So long as he left her alone, she didn't care how many pictures he took. It wouldn't be the first time someone's taken her picture and usually, she was wearing even less than a towel...

Being someone who hated the feeling of her wet hair against a pillow, Olivia sat down on her bed. The bed was barely stable with a shitty and basic bedframe holding up an old mattress, but...it was better than a used old mattress on the floor of an abandoned building with a bunch of used needles and a horny stranger who was getting a little too handsy around her. Her phone was her most prized possession as it served to be the nicest thing she owned. It was an old model smartphone with a few cracks in the screen, but at least it wasn't a flip phone. The only thing that kept her from getting on it now was the lack of data she had to enjoy the internet with, so she found herself going to stores that sold books that use to have owners for only $2 apiece. If she had the internet she probably wouldn't bother reading in the first place if she was being honest with herself, but she didn't mind a good book to pass the time while her hair and body dry before bed. It wasn't a big pleasure for her, but it was better than nothing.

 

[Deranged]

𝘗𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘢 𝘯𝘰𝘸........𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘦. 𝘈𝘩.....𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵! 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘢.....

Like the fleeting echoes of a beautiful song in the mountains, the high that had followed Agony's assault of the errant couple was hard to latch on to. Yes, it was still there, however, much like the echoes, it was also not really there. All that's left of it are the tantalizing reverberations they left in his spine and in every firing nerve he possessed. Honestly, that had ended too quick, he really couldn't place a finger on why he went at it without any sense of restraint whatsoever. Yes, the biker numbskull served his purpose relatively well, but the foul-mouthed chick had it 𝘸𝘢𝘺 too easy in his opinion. He had that choice of just chalking her bare, gleaming ass off as the catch of the night....depending on how well she could agonize, and how exquisitely she would be able to express that agony, she might even be the catch of the entire damn week!

Could it be that she got under his skin that much?.....at all even? While his transformation has rendered him invulnerable physically, he's always had the mental aspect down pat for a while running. It would've been impossible for him to make it through those arduous hours upon hours of agonizing in frailty for no perceivable reason at all, without a mind that was forced to harden up and compensate for his waste of a body. Generally, insults and attempts to incite his anger have always done the opposite of bringing him down. They not only fire up his spirit, they seem to fire his once frail body into a state of relative vitality as well while not spoiling his mood in anyway.
One time during one of his rare grace periods from his crises, the times when he could actually withstand the rigours of the social interactions and learning processes in a physical school and in a physical classroom, he had once kissed a girl. 𝘖𝘩....𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘺!

It was his first one too, at the relatively ripe age for it of fifteen. The girl herself was nothing special to be honest, she wore glasses, studied hard enough for every ounce of knowledge she possessed, and honestly looked well on her way to achieving her dream of going to MIT. In slightly less elaborate terms, she was a nerd....not much different from him at the time too. With his body at the advanced stages of quitting on him whenever it saw fit, Andy had found the choice and role of a nerd being thrust upon him by the cruel hands of fate. Even now, he still strongly suspects that he would've been a relatively sporty guy if his body didn't choose the path it did. Oh well, it is what it is; he himself had been a nerd by definition and appearance in that moment. The recollection of the silly conversations and days of dodgy and in hindsight, laughable and incredibly ineffective flirting techniques on both their ends would occasionally cause him to rumble in laughter.
She had been the closest thing to a friend he had then...or maybe someone who was just glad to be able to geek to someone else without the fear of being judged and made fun of. One thing led to another, and the "paradise" moment that both teens had been working on furiously behind their secretly sweaty brows finally arrived.

Of course, there was only bound to be fireworks right? An explosion of chemicals and overstimulated nerve endings working together to enforce an interpretation of the symbolic contact between two eager lips. He wouldn't know for sure what the girl had running through her head a decade later, but he can speak well enough for himself. His heart had skipped, blood heated to a flaming degree as the image of the girl's face got bigger and closer.....so many thoughts and expectations had ran through his mind as they seemed to inch their faces closer at an agonizingly slow rate.
'𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦?'.....'𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦?'....'𝘞𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨?!'....'𝘋𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨?!'
When their lips did touch in a probing, doubtful and experimental manner, he closed his eyes, held his breath and.......that was it.
He didn't know for sure what he was expecting to experience, but what he 𝘥𝘪𝘥 experience was akin to being dabbed by a wet sponge on the lips.....okay, a wet sponge with warmth and a surprisingly strong probe that soon shot out from a cleft in it's middle, and 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 his seemingly frozen and trembling lips after what must've been...eight? four? seconds.

If the sponge itself was surprisingly underwhelming, the probe took that up a notch or two. It had swirled and darted in slimy and irregular trails that cried out to his instincts and everything he'd seen in movies about the subject matter till then, to open up and let it in. On opening up however, the temperature of both the sponge and probe must've tripled! The swirling.....the sucking and....moaning? It kinda sounded more like groaning as two sets of nimble fingers dug into his hair and pulled him into the humid assault even more....just in case he was having any second thoughts. 𝘉𝘰𝘺! 𝘞𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴!
His eyes had sprang open one time, closed again another before giving up completely, and staying open to be treated to the engorged image of a freckled, bespectacled face far too advanced into his personal space.
After what seemed like five minutes and all his oxygen reserves later, the girl had pulled away with a bit of that tell-tale hissy plop. Her eyes were glassy, way too glassy even behind her glasses. Her face was cycling through shades of pink and red at frequencies that he found so fascinating in that moment. They had both huffed and puffed a bit to fill their lungs with some much needed oxygen....and then some. It seemed another eternity before she cracked a shy smile at him while managing to hold his sheepish gaze.
"Oh my God....that, was amazing! How did it feel for you?"
She had belted at last in a tone that suggested that she already knew the answer, and it was one she enjoyed.

𝘖𝘩, 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦! 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘕𝘖𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭! 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 "𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴" 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥.

He could remember trying all he could to conjure up those feelings that his imagination and instincts had told him were standard issue for an event like that. He had closed his eyes again, tried hard to run the range of sensory stimuli that her mouth had bombarded his with - 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘵!
All he could recall was the slime....the damp heat, the....the desperate fusion of flesh and hormones and....
"It kinda just passed me by to be honest."
His mouth had opened and words had flowed out, words he regretted almost instantly. No, she didn't deserve that, didn't deserve to have heard that! She had kept him company when he was practically treated like an outcast by his peers.....the least he could do regardless of his then obvious mental malfunctions as well, was to have told a white lie, pretty it up a bit.
"𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘺, 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩!"
There were literally a ton of ways he could have gone around it, a lot of words he could've used otherwise. He wasn't an emotionally inept boy, no! Infact, with a lot of time to reflect mentally during his crises, he was quite the opposite. He had come to learn the relationship between body language, thoughts and emotions. Maybe his skills were not up to what it is now, but it was definitely enough then, for him to have known that his honest admission would hit her like daggers to the heart. She didn't deserve it! He should've done better! Oh he was surely gonna feel like hell deservedly for his indiscretion and honesty. Sure, he found her easy to talk to, did it mean that he found it impossible to lie to her too?! Even if it was to spare her feelings?

His vision had tunneled then, as a rush had hit him in the head making it feel light. He watched her smile grow a bit as he began to speak, then pale in confusion. The confusion persisted for few seconds, before a world of hurt and disdain filled her eyes and overflowed it in the form of the tears that trickled out with a start. He didn't need to have been psychic to know that she felt like she was hit by a freight train.
She had the sense and maybe the dignity to not make a scene, she simply excused herself and left, and he had expected to feel a truck of guilt crush him on the spot.

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘹𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘈𝘯𝘥𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘍𝘜𝘊𝘒𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘴𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵.

Memory lane again?!

Agony flashed to the present and the recollection of his desolate surroundings with a snort. The hollow of dissatisfaction was pulsing with every stubborn beat of his remodeled heart, he really needs to get some more action.

'𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚕? 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝?'

Ah! One of the 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲, the systematically and deliberately fleshed out sides of the triangle that is the trailing figure called Agony. "Ace" he's called, and from the sensation of the voice Agony perceived, he was definitely not impressed or pleased for that matter. At this time, Agony had resurfaced to the sidewalk that was now bare of humanity in any form whatsoever. His surprisingly light gait only served to reinforce his lonely walk in the dead of night.

'Yeah! How are we gonna get a snack now?'

Andy who is actually one of the sides in the triangle, raved in support. It was obvious that both sides that have spoken were not entirely pleased with the scene that would be sure to send the media into a dizzy spin, long before this time tomorrow. It was not the manner of the kill that they were disappointed with in particular, it was more the duration and the premature end to what could've easily been so much more. Andy was right, it would be difficult to stalk prey at the time since everyone seemed to have vanished from the streets.... perhaps, wary of becoming their next victim.

'𝕆𝕙, 𝕡𝕠𝕠𝕙-𝕡𝕠𝕠𝕙! 𝔼𝕧𝕨𝕪𝕓𝕨𝕠𝕕𝕪 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕚𝕚𝕚𝕟𝕖! 𝕀 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕘𝕖𝕥 𝕞𝕪 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕦𝕟, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕚𝕥'𝕤 𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕒 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕞 𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕡𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘 𝕚'𝕧𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕨𝕒𝕚𝕥! 𝕊𝕠 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕚𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕥𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕕𝕣𝕪?! 𝕎𝕖 𝕡𝕒𝕪 𝕖𝕞 𝕒 𝕔𝕠𝕠𝕝 𝕧𝕚𝕤𝕚𝕥 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕒𝕗𝕖𝕥𝕪 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝕓𝕖𝕕𝕤 𝕚𝕗 𝕨𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕥𝕠! 𝕀𝕥'𝕤 𝕓𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕒 𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕟' 𝕪𝕒 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨?'

Finally, "Ash" the last side of the triangle spoke up. The mental power required to maintain three fully fledged, dissociative voices with their own traits, "thoughts" and opinions in any form; would be sure to knock down the average "untested" mind down in no time at all with a paralyzing migraine. To run them seamlessly in the background however, while striding in the darkness, fully alert and aware of your surroundings like Agony was....well, that's just Agony.
The sides or personalities, were products of his own conscious input and design. Although, not in their entirety as they exist at the moment. During his days of being a lab rat, he had actively envisioned different fantasy lives for himself. Aggregating the traits he possessed in his appearances in the bulk of those fantasies though, he was obsessively able to conjure two other distinct versions of himself or "alters" other than the "perfect" version of Andy. That was how Ace and Ash came to being.

Over the past few years, he had taken the time and mental effort to develop each of his alters into fully fleshed out personalities of their own, so much so that he could seamlessly engage and assume them whenever he saw fit. Of course, in the beginning it had required a fair bit of effort on his part, but he soon found out that his body was not the only scientific mystery; what was supposed to be a single choice between three faces at any given time, soon spiralled into a constant presence of those three sides at all times, with or without his own conscious effort!

'𝙾𝚑 𝙸 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝, 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚣 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎, 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚞𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚓𝚊𝚒𝚕 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎. 𝙾𝙷! 𝙾𝚛 𝚠𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚊 𝙵𝚄𝙲𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚋𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚜....𝚎𝚛, 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎! 𝙸'𝚖 𝚊 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚞𝚜 𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚜, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚎 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚞𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚢 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚢?!'

Agony winced visibly at that last part of Ace's tirade.
There's a reason why people like him tend to stalk prey before making their move. Again, his body has been altered (in ways that even he hasn't even come close to fully grasping yet). Yes, it came with some perks and some advantages that he's figured out how to exploit at the moment, but the novelty of it and the potential curse of the unknown is enough to just put a bit of a damper on him. He really doesn't want to go on a door-to-door busting and killing spree if he can avoid it. Locating a random house and busting in isn't the problem, the problem is when he runs into some old geezers or a middle-aged man and his kids and.....pretty much everything that won't strike the chords of his twisted cravings. Well, they'll see him for sure, would be very interested in calling the cops too, leaving him no other option but to kill them before they can do that....how many cycles of that shit would he need to run into before he stumbles upon some nice-looking young woman whose flesh and mind would be very ripe for his harvest of pain? The wince morphed into a slight frown as his silvery eyes darkened.

He had no idea how long he's walked for, it could've been be a minute, could've been be an hour.
The three sides we're still engaged in a heated debate on their next course of action (which honestly is only about five percent of their now almost simultaneous rambling that was more or less white noise to him now). Oh he perceived every word exchanged, but was not very interested in the two-on-one tongue-down that Ash was getting for his glorious disservice to their enduring and very much unquenched thirst. When they fork up a course of action, he'll be open to it, otherwise, they can keep on yelling all they want.
He was still in this state when he decided that he had to hunt anyway, he knew that something like this was bound to happen soon, so he had mentally prepared for it a bit.

WINDOWS......

His silvery eyes were wide opened as they pinged from one building to the other. This part of town wasn't really the definition of posh too, which would give him the ample opportunity of nabbing prey that won't be missed....too much.
His eyes were scanning around for any potential open windows to give him a fleeting insight into anything that might be in the room and prevent the whole crash, look, kill repeat scenario that he was trying to avoid. Barely two minutes into his search, he spotted one that was wide agape. Intrigued, he stepped a little closer as he peered up into it. A light shimmer covered his being as whatever light rays the night could throw at him were redirected elsewhere, rendering him completely invisible to the naked eye. He grinned and rubbed his palms as he thought about how lucky he was as a stalker of women to possess and have the knowledge of utilizing this ability.
From where he stood outside, he couldn't see too much of the rooms, but the diffuse images he caught told him that they had no ritz. He waited for a bit as the faint sounds of a running shower came from one room he couldn't see. The window was a little high up from where he was standing, definitely too high to attempt to climb into as there were no stairs or a fire escape or even anything else he could use for leverage.

He gritted his teeth as he was forced to listen even more. He closed his eyes in frustration as his grinding teeth heated his saliva to boiling point. He soon began to pick up more of the tell-tale sounds of someone basking under the running water..... somewhere along the line, he was picking up the faint hues of sighs and half grunts of relief and gratification. It didn't take long for him to acknowledge that his new body was having one of those unpredictable moments again, moments when a new ability just seems to pop in without much knowledge or activity on his part. He was no doubt, hearing well above what any normal person should be able to manage, and even what his formerly impressive capacity was....so much so that he could determine the feminine overtones in the faint vocalizations he was picking up.

The same fireworks that his ill-fated, first liplock couldn't grant him, was pulsing in and around his mind but not in the positive feel good way. This time, it felt like a thousand jets have been ignited in his mind, jets set to propel him to.....what really?

𝙁𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙝!

Beyond his comprehension at the moment, but also beyond his care. His silvery orbs that couldn't be viewed by the outside world at the moment anyways, flew open with a deep, demented spark when he heard the water trickle off, he could even hear the slight tapping of wet feet against the tiled floor as the unknown resident stepped out from her bathroom. Few seconds later, a sequence of wild and strange actions was initiated....and it all began with that flash of beautiful creamy skin framing a voluptuous body that was dripping wet and barely covered by the embarrassment of the towel wrapped around it.

𝘙𝘌ACℍℍ!

The consensus of everything in his mental and physical make-up was a resounding one, he couldn't even refuse the order even if he wished to. More in manic expression of need, hope and irritation than anything else, both of his slender arms had shot towards the open window. His eyes had grew wider with every inch covered, every fibre of his being very much wanted....NEEDED to get inside that room immediately no matter how! He wasn't exactly expecting his hands to grasp on to anything solid as all that was above him for a good ten or more feet was nothing more than the cool night air. When he did feel that he had grabbed the window however, he didn't question it.... didn't question the obvious multitude of inches his arms must've stretched beyond it's peak length to be able to grab it even though he couldn't see it. He pulled, sprang upwards and found his vision blurring with rough images of the chipping paint covering the sad wall, while catapulting himself right through the window!

How he had managed to cut all the intense momentum that followed his blinding catapult into the window was beyond him, however, since he's suddenly become a "rubber-man" so to speak, he wouldn't be too surprised if his body that seemed to be operating partly on its own at the moment had figured something out.
He placed one trembling boot on the floor in a soundless manner just as the woman who he could now see clearly noticed the open window with some obvious alarm in her eyes.

He chuckled....he couldn't help it, but he did keep it soundless, there was something so stirring about her tardy fastidiousness..... something so delicious in the false sense of safety that blanketed her, far better than the flimsy towel ever could, when she had unknowingly breezed past his flighty and dodging frame to hurriedly close her blinds....shutting herself off from the horrors of the world in the process......if only she knew that she had infact, shut herself IN with perhaps more horror than her imagination could ever conjure! It made him shiver and almost lose enough concentration to lose his cloaking. That would be a shame, he'd prefer to reveal himself in a much more...."genteel" manner; he thought to himself with a smirk, much to the agreement of the three "A's" inside his twisted head.

It took every bit of active and passive control he could muster to maintain his cloak (and also not drool on the floor as that would be very much visible) while his new and unsuspecting victim picked a book up in her ignorance, and paid a lot less attention to the disgrace of a fabric hanging on to her supple curves....she sat on the bed with what seemed to be a look of "passive contentment" on her face while doing all she could to focus on the book she held.
The way she breathed, the sounds of her breaths leaving her throat that his still hypersensitive hearing could pick up even five to six feet away at the foot of the bed. All that, coupled with how the flattering supple mounds on her chest rose and fell while dislodging bits of the teeny drops evaporating on her pale canvas of a skin.....it all radiated peace, contentment and an illusion of security that was sending the blood rushing to EVERY part of the cloaked killer. It's one thing to catch a person unawares, it's another to simply glide effortlessly into the life of a victim. The sequence leading to that illusion of security and peace being shattered.....just thinking of it alone was already edging him closer to a cerebral orgasm.

𝙁𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮.....

Just when it seemed that she had found her happy place, he decided to introduce her to her doom.

"𝘖𝘩....𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘮. 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘺...."

Deciding to mess with her a bit, he climbed onto the rickety bed that was threatening to topple over with his added weight, making it impossible for her not to notice. The catch? He still had his fucking cloak on!
He inched slowly, keeping his sharp eyes out for any and all her reactions....licking his lips as the fragrance of the soap melded with her natural scent to tickle his olfactory receptors.
He closed his eyes and let out a breathy chuckle. Taking the time to observe her reactions even more, while keeping out of her way even though he was still on the bed.
His eyes soon peeled open, and that was when he suddenly shot his arms towards her damp hair and snapped at it to cause her head to snap back, and consequently secure her in place.....(no preys as hot as she was is gonna pull a fast one on him!)
Other than the strong double grip on her hair, she would feel, hear or see nothing else......until his lips were dangling just behind her left earlobe that was held securely by his unrelenting grasp, tickling it with whispering breaths.

He suddenly turned off his cloak as he whispered huskily behind the ear.
"𝘚𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦...."
A quick, wet nip at the lobe in question with his eager teeth, came before one of his hands slowly snaked down her face till it cupped the underside of her jaw....it was slow alright, but it was forceful as hell, definitely enough to leave slight pink blotches and marks in the wake of it's migration.
Manipulating her jaw and consequently her head like a steering wheel, as yet another breathy chuckle rang out against her damp ear, he hissed a prickle of hot breath across her face, as he brought her own to lock right on to his.....he wanted her to get a close up of the eyes of the man whose utter property she now was....and he wanted her to understand that fact in it's entirety.

"𝘔𝘮𝘮𝘩𝘩𝘮𝘮....𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥'𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘱.....𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘺.

𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸....."

His tone was mellow, yet so hard to not hear. Everything about him screamed CONTROL....the one thing he always grinded for all those years on his sickbed....and now he had it....had it completely over a voluptuous, wet and partly nude vixen in his unrelenting arms.

 

[TheSluttyBanshee]

Olivia was obviously to the monster she trapped herself in with. One simple act of closing her bedroom window ensured that escape would not come easily. If it was even possible to escape such a monster as the one that lurked nearby. Even if she did manage to escape from her open window, there was no way she'd fall from that height without hurting her leg. There was no fire escape or stairs to save her if she did manage to bolt out her open window and if her leg really did get hurt, she was as good as dead anyway. There was no way she could outrun something that she couldn't see or could stretch his arms to impossible lengths. The fact there was a man who could do those things at all was beyond her in the first place. She thought she knew every secret the city streets had to offer, but soon, she'll discover that she knew nothing at all.

Unease started to set in as her sixth sense told her something was wrong, but Olivia made the mistake of ignoring that feeling that told her to turn around and tried to focus on her book instead. She told herself that she was just on edge again. It was hard not to be when all this talk of a woman killer made everyone annoyingly paranoid. Even if she did somehow come face-to-face with him, Olivia doubted he was anything scarier than the men she's faced before in her old life.

She still remembered every detail perfectly. The very event that kick-started her descent. A lot of people blamed their parents for the way that turned out, but Olivia didn't have that reason on her list of things to blame for the way her life turned out. She was raised by two reasonable and loving parents. Mommy loved her daughter dearly without a drop of wine touching her lips. Daddy kept his hands inappropriate places and told her often how proud he was of her. School wasn't much harder on her either. Her grades were always high and while she wasn't the most popular girl in school, she had her fair share of friends and boyfriends without much harassment from bullies. She kept her head low enough to evade their radar, but not too low that she didn't have fun in school either. Olivia was the kind of girl who wasn't exceptional in any way. She had nerdy interests, which was a bit of a shock to a lot of the nerdy kids since she didn't look like someone who'd have a love for video games or the newest sci-fi shows, but besides that, she was a rather down to earth girl who just liked to laugh and make others laugh. That was enough to earn her a few friends for a long time and earned the eye of a few boys who struggled to work up the nerve to ask her out. And when one finally did...she remembered how sweet her first kiss with him was...

He had been a boy who was head over heels for her not long after they first met in class. It was obvious to everyone, even Olivia herself that he longed for her, but she waited patiently for him to come to her. He was cute, had good grades, nothing to write home about, but someone she wouldn't reject either. And, the more time they spent together, the more she started to feel her feelings grow for him. Maybe she didn't love him as much as he loved her, but she wanted to be more than just friends with him. There was something there that drove her to want to be with him, and that was enough reason for her to be open to him when he eventually got the balls to ask her out. She let him in that she had a bit of an interest in him too. Stuble touches, flirtatious smiles, compliments, cute giggles, and even wearing tighter clothes to show off her body a little more. All those things just made him want her more, and eventually, he did ask her out.

He was her first real boyfriend. He did everything he could to treat her like a lady and handled her father's protective nature rather well. Movies, dinners, games, anything he could think of to bring a smile to her face, and it wasn't long before they took things a step further. He took her out to the middle of nowhere and they laid in the bed of his truck with nothing but a soft blanket underneath him. They laughed together as they talked about nothing and everything at once while gazing under the stars. He turned to look at her with eyes she'd never see again. He looked at her with so much love that Olivia thought that he might be the one she'd spend the rest of her life with. Wordlessly, he came closer to her, and naturally, they leaned closer and closer together until their lips finally met.

Fireworks just like the ones she always heard about from movies and books fired off in her head. His lips were so soft and tender that she quickly got lost in their strange and inexperienced feeling. They felt like wet sponges, but the feeling that poured into her made her heart race and her body alight in flames that she's never felt before. The first time she ever experienced arousal and didn't even know it yet. She was only 16 at the time and didn't understand a lot of things. Just like she wouldn't understand that their relationship wasn't meant to last despite how wonderful his lips felt against hers.

It was a few months later that they broke things off. The fire they felt between them just...fizzled out. Neither of them cheated or fell in love with other people, they just...fell out of love with each other. If Olivia knew what the future had in store for her, she might have tried harder to stay and love him, but nothing could have prepared her for the shift her life was going to take. Maybe things could have been different. Maybe she could have been married to him and had his children, been his little stay-at-home wife. It sounded so simple and childish, but at this point in her life, she would have killed to have that life. Instead, the unthinkable happened...

It wasn't long after she got into a good college that she got invited out to a frat party. To this day, she wished she had never gone to that damn party, but her roommate convinced her to do it. She had said something along the lines of, "Live it up a little and let's go have some fun! We won't be in college forever!" At the time, Olivia couldn't argue with that, so she went despite the pit in her stomach that told her to stay home.

Frat boys were flirting with every skirt that was there, including her, but she was one of the girls that weren't interested in doing the things they wanted to do. She got invited to threesomes, offers to blow her mind, everything under the sun that they hoped would convince her to spread her legs for them, but none of it worked. So...one persistent frat boy made it his mission to get her. Maybe he made a bet with his buddies or he wanted to feel like he tamed a shrew, but either way, he never stopped touching her or trying to get her to come upstairs with him. Every time, she refused and she was starting to get to the point that she wanted to leave. The only thing that stopped her was that she'd be abandoning her roommate who was having a lot more fun than she was. Olivia didn't want to ruin her friend's good time, so she thought she'd ride it out until her friend was partied out and ready to go back to their dorm. She took her eyes off her drink for a few seconds and that was enough to change her fate forever...

The rest was blurry, but Olivia knew what happened to her. She remembered how her head spun and how she slipped in and out of consciences. The frat boy generously helped her up and she remembered him telling his friends that she had a little too much to drink and was gonna take her to his room to sober up. She wished that's what happened. God, she did she wishes that's what happened. Instead, he forced her limp legs up the stairs and into his room. Her clothes came off despite her not wanting them to. Her hands tried to stop him, but they were weak and her words were too slurred to tell him no or to scream for help. He made her look at him with his hand around her throat and stole from her...

That next morning, her head ached painfully. Her entire body ached with a pain that was pure agony. She never told anyone what happened to her. She didn't want anyone to know. Not even when her roommate joked with her about her getting lucky that night. She just half-heartedly laughed and hoped the conversation would end. She felt ashamed for what happened, guilty, and most of all...dirty like she was soiled or ruined. A lot of people would jump at others' touches and get panic attacks about the thought of being touched again, but Olivia...reacted completely differently.

Before that event, Olivia's sex drive was minimal. She didn't have many desires, but after her assault, something changed in her. Suddenly, she was horny all the time. She fucked anyone who showed even a little interest in her. She sabotaged her romantic endeavors by jumping into bed with them too soon and needing them long before they were ready to give themselves up to her. She had all but abandoned the chance of her finding love and just needed a hard dick to get her through the day. Threesomes, foursomes, gloryholes, anything that could get her to feel some kind of rush as she delved deeper and deeper into a world the old Olivia never would have explored. It got so bad, that she even had to drop out of college cause she let her lust take over every aspect of her life. Her grades slipped, her friends slowly stopped talking to her, her parents were furious and disappointed with her...and it just made her need to feel good again spiral even further.

Sex wasn't cutting it enough anymore. It didn't matter how many guys she fucked or how many she took on at one time, those fireworks she craved to make her brain feel the chemicals it needed to feel some semblance of happiness again just weren't coming no matter how much she came. So...she turned to harder things, harder than any cocks she had in her as she fucked away her problems and crippling need to feel something again. Heroin gave her was sex started to fail to give her. That rush of high made her happy again and made her forget the pain. Sometimes, she'd even combine the two. Nothing got her going like bouncing on a dick while shooting up. That got her into some serious problems. Work was hard to come by when you were itching to get your next fix and fixes happened to be expensive. Even while she sold her body, she wasn't making nearly enough to cover her need to get high on top of basic needs. She ended up in bed with some really bad men who locked her into finical debt to keep her near and her legs ready to spread for them. It was the day that one of her dealers and bedmate put a gun to the base of her spine that started to wake her up. She still remembered how cold his gun was as it traveled up her spine, slowly lifting the back of her shirt up as he whispered how he was ready to kill her the second she tried to run from him. That was the day Olivia knew she needed to escape before it was too late.

It was a hard fight, but she was making it. Slowly, but surely, she was making a better life for herself. She was able to sit on her bed in nothing but a towel and read a book because of how hard she worked to get out of a hell that many others like her weren't fortunate enough to escape. Olivia was one of the lucky ones, and she planned on taking advantage of that. She wasn't going to go down easy. She still had plenty of people ready to kill her or take what little she had, but she was fighting them off and she was clean while doing it. She wasn't going to let her struggle be for nothing. Not even an invisible monster was going to kill her need to keep going. It wasn't just her own survival she was fighting for, but she was fighting in the name of all the women who couldn't make it to where she was. There were still plenty of them who were still trapped in that hell, and will probably die young in it. So, she refused to let her escape be for nothing. She had to keep fighting no matter how tired she was to make her life count...

That was until she heard a voice within her own bedroom...

She hadn't even really been reading anymore at this point with the way her mind was running, so the second she heard the voice, she turned towards it expecting to see the intruder but, there was nothing there. Her eyes scanned the room, but saw nothing out of place and certainly no man that could have belonged to the voice she heard. For a split second, Olivia thought her head was playing games with her, especially because of the thoughts she was dealing with, but then her bed sunk down with weight pressing down on it. She jumped up the instant she saw how her bed shaped around an invisible force weighing down on it. Her book went flying onto the floor and she held onto her towel even tighter as she shouted, "What the fuck!?"

Her eyes stared wide at the weight pressing down into her bed with a mix of confusion and panic in her gaze. The bewildering sight made her slow to react as she tried to put together the reason why this was happening. She couldn't see anyone, but someone or something was clearly in her room. The memory of the voice made a chill run down her spine as goosebumps lined her skin. "What the actual fuck..." She whispered to herself, unsure of what to do. Her pounding heart made her racing mind run too quickly, but her instinct screamed at her to run. Something in her jolted her legs into working as Olivia shot for the door of her bedroom, but sudden pain shot through her scalp as invisible hands grabbed onto the hair on the back of her hair and yanked her back. Her head pulled back so suddenly that pain shot down her neck and caused her to cry out in pain as she was suddenly stopped in her tracks.

The open door to her bedroom was right in front of her, but she wasn't allowed to move. She tried to yank herself free from his grip, but it just caused more pain to run along her scalp as her hand reached out in a pathetic attempt to reach her freedom. As if just touching the door will make her attacker disappear for good. Snippets of her voice leaked out of each panicked breath as her chest rose and fell. Her remaining hand kept her towel clutched to her chest as her breasts rose and fell and confusion only worsened her panic.

When her plan to escape clearly failed, Olivia switched from flight to fight. Her hand let go of the towel that served as her only protection to try to claw at the hands that held her head. Her hands tried to find the source through the pain and pressure in her scalp until her nails lacked onto invisible hands and she dug them deep into his flesh. "You bastard! I'll fucking kill you!" She screamed as she squirmed and fought to free herself from his grasp. Her breasts bounced with every move she made trying to free herself from him as desperation kicked in and made her sound like a struggling rabbit trying to escape from the jaws of a hungry wolf.

She suddenly froze as her attacker dropped his cloak and her eyes fought to try to see the face of the man doing this to her as she grits her teeth and growled with rage in her eyes. Fear and panic were making her angry and now that he was showing his face to her, she was ready to beat it in despite how low those odds were at the moment. That voice whispering huskily into her ear sent chills running down her spine and even made parts of her body tingle in ways she hated. Shit, not now...not this. She scolded her own body, despite the tingling excitement his voice brought it.

A sudden moan shot from her lips as he unintentionally found one of her weaknesses as he nipped at her ear. A growl of anger quickly followed as she kept trying to fight against her attacker in the only way she could until his hand touched the underside of her jaw. Her teeth instantly felt a deep need to sink into the flesh of the hand that grabbed her and she even tried to jerk her head away in hopes of getting to do just that, but his fingers sunk into her tender skin so tightly that her pale skin reddened. Her fast breathing got an air of heat to it as the way he held her jaw worsened the tingling in her nipples and between her legs. Her softened pink nipples started to harden both from the air and from the stranger attacking her in her own bedroom. His breathy chuckle made her hips push back, putting out her well-rounded ass like her body wanted to grind against him despite the clear hatred and anger she had for him. Air hissed from her teeth and her body gave confusing and conflicting messages between "I want to kill you" and "I want to fuck you".

He forced her face to turn until her eye met his and she could finally look into the sick and twisted enjoyment he was getting out of this. The coward finally showed his face and all she could see his sick pleasure. Her eyes glared at him with utter hatred, not just at him, but at herself for how her body was reacting to this. She hated that her slut of a body was getting turned on by this of all things. Some things never change she supposed, but now was the worst time to get worked up over someone.

"Don't fucking touch me!" She shouted back at him as she tried to elbow him in his stomach. Her foot tried to stop on his despite the lack of anything to aid her attack other than pure anger and strength alone. Her body might be confused on how to react to this, but in one moment, it agreed to let her try to escape by any means. She didn't care where she hit, she just wanted to hurt him and make him let go of her. She didn't know what was going to happen to her, but whatever he planned to do with her, she wasn't going to make it easy on him.

 

[Deranged]

𝘔𝘩𝘩𝘮𝘮𝘮.......𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸? 𝘐 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶.........

There are certain feelings that are incredibly hard to nail into words, such were the feelings that seized Agony on noticing his prey's first reactions to his voice. She was shocked, confused and in disbelief all at once. An army of crawling ants of excitement, shot from the base of his spine upwards like a jolt of electricity. When the raving army reached the peak of his spine, it triggered an explosion of needle-like waves of intense pleasure and intrigue that made the blood circulation that was already borderline hyper before, shoot up to "definitely unsafe and near lethal" levels......for a 𝘮𝘢𝘯.

The flutter of the book's pages as they flapped like the wings of a terrified bird when she tossed it, registered for a moment, but his attention was quick to latch on to her eyes and the cacophony of emotions and questions threatening to spill out from them. Of course, the shock delayed her reactions....spot on, like he had calculated it would. It was only a matter of time though, before her senses would return to her, and she'd do the right thing by bolting the fuck away.

𝘖𝘩 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘰.......

The typical image of a sadist as portrayed popularly by media, is one of a person who enjoys clanging and banging on the anatomy of others. Some go at it with finesse, others like Ash, are total wolves who could pass as the poster boys and girls for "Splatterhouse". That is, they go at it with reckless abandon, and can make even the most seasoned surgeons and coroners blink in anything ranging from shock to disgust.
Technically, those portrayals are not entirely wrong or overly misinterpreted. However, there's an aspect of sadism that people tend to overlook.....that aspect that has to do with the intricate, mental mumbo-jumbo that would render anybody unfortunate enough to have it ingrained in them, to be a complex spectrum that overlaps sadism and masochism......it's the "mental" aspect.

From the very moment that Agony's bare hands had latched on roughly and firmly to the slippery and silky threads of his prey's hair, he was quick to be introduced to a rollercoaster ride. At first, his prey had jerked, breathing heavily and reaching for the door in blind hope as she whimpered and struggled in futility to break free from his iron grasp. Oh, it tickled his fancy alright, he even had the nerve to pay attention to the heaving gourds on her chest and how desperately she tried to use the towel to maintain her "modesty" even in the face of mortal danger.
He was still invisible then, and he couldn't help the evil, mild laugh that seized him....such hypocrisy.....such foolishness! But that's what makes it fun, the denial, the struggle to believe and act accordingly to ensure that "everything would end up well".

He would soon realize however, that she was far from being prepared to melt into a puddle for him.
It began with her nails, he wasn't quite sure what she was up to, when she finally decided that her futile attempt to protect her modesty was counter-productive. He was grateful to see the scratchy towel snake downwards and unwrap itself from it's owner, and those teasingly arresting mounds to his undiscerning eyes. When her hands reached desperately behind and above her to try to locate the phantom hand in her hair though, and her nails finally dug into his skin with the fury and energy of a trapped animal, he was quick to realize that he had managed to not just score big on the body, but he's got something interesting upstairs as well. From the edge of his gaze, he could see how her eyes flashed, could hear her tongue and lips working to spit foul words.....she ripped, clawed and most importantly; she 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵.

The stings of pain that accompanied her wild scratching and clawing was pronounced....she really had a strong will! Of course, Agony's skin stitched itself back at speeds that rendered his skin completely unperturbed by her wild struggle, the stabs of pleasure that assaulted his senses however.....he was almost as surprised as she was on discovering him; to know that she was one of the "defiants" as he fondly calls them. They are by far, his most preferred kind of prey. He bit his bottom lip in satisfaction on coming to that conclusion, and that was when his cloak dropped and another section of the ride came into play.

Remember that mental aspect thing? Oh well, Agony does, and because he does everytime, he's learned to become very perceptive. Long before his "remodelling", he was capable of picking up even the most subtle active and passive; actions, reactions and signals, given off by a person in relatively close proximity to him and on his radar. His ultra-perception improved during the first wave of his "hunts" and now that his senses appear to be able to improve to ungodly heights at their choosing, he could well be called a borderline psychic.
The sudden freeze that swallowed his prey when he dropped his cloak was not lost on him. He relished it with a slight shudder before inching his face towards hers for those warm hisses and that nip on the lobe.

Even as his lips had opened near the lobe, he could already feel the heat radiating from her skull as her brain scrambled with a broth of emotions. No doubt she felt like stabbing him repeatedly.....just knowing that made him feel a tingling sense of pleasure that bled into the quick nip.
It was of course, not what he was expecting by default, but it was impossible for his heightened sense of hearing to not pick up the quick moan that flushed out from deep within her throat. No, he didn't just pick the moan, he picked it along with all it's over and undertones too. His brows arched slightly in relish when his phenomenal mind analyzed the moan in it's entirety, and found it to be one of arousal. No doubt he hit a weak spot, because he could tell that every venomous word she had spat at him up till that very moment was as genuine as the delicious heat she was radiating towards him.

The conflict in her mind and body was soon to make itself more evident to him, when his unforgiving grip had forced her eyes to lock on to his. His were filled with pure relish and appraisal, hers were filled with an undeniable stew of malice and disdain. Through his words, she had struggled and fought to break the grip on her jaw, but the heat that was wafting from her slick, nude frame was undeniably magnified. It felt as if gazing into his silver pools had ignited a suppressed sense of affinity and lust in her spirit.
Every subtle movement she made as his tough grip resisted her slippery attempts to break free.....from the redoubled efforts to shimmy off his grasp, to the faint and semi-conscious curves to her spine aimed at smacking her hips against his as they stood precariously at the foot of the bed, and possibly grinding those hips against his, till the crotch of his dark pants became wet, with a visible, lumpy ridge straining inside it. He could see, sense and process everything with ease and with a malicious sense of relish that seemed to be infuriating his prey even more.

He's seen it before......to varying degrees of course, and perhaps none of his former prey had exhibited it in any form this early into their dance, but he's definitely seen it before.
That burning look filled with more hatred than anyone should be able to muster for one person......well of course, that's because the hatred was not just for him alone.
Ace, the tactician and most observant of the three had put it like this; "𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚒'𝚖 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗-𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢, 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚝; 𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚎'𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚗𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗.

𝙸𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚜, 𝚠𝚎'𝚟𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖, 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚜𝚝....𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎. 𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚐𝚞𝚝𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝'𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚜. 𝙷𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚛𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢'𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜.....𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚟𝚊𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝.

𝙾𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎, 𝚒𝚝'𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚞𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑."

Ace can be winding and overreaching like that in his insights. None of the three are scatterbrained by any means, but if there's one of them who's the most thorough and intricate in mental pursuits, it's Ace by a margin.
In the past, he's not just seen, but has actively worked towards and encouraged a conflict of wills in his prey. To a sicko like Agony, few flavors of pain could be as overpowering as the overarching one that stem from a conflict in a prey's entire make-up. Body and mind, ethics and lust, morals and needs, needs and wants....the permutations are numerous.

He's overseen prey develop shades of the all too popular and ambiguous enigma dubbed the Stockholm syndrome. Unfortunately, none of his past prey have held his interest enough and managed to hold out long enough for him to record any meaningful progress beyond the first flashes. For this particular busty and slick one in his grasp however, to be showing flashes of that conflict this early.....it made him break into a bright smile, and caused him to begin to radiate his own share of heat from his frantic circulatory activity.

The memory of the first victim that he had detected the flashes of that conflict in was quite vivid for him. He could still picture her piercing blue eyes that lit up in a mixture of intense hatred and panic mixed with something else that neither he or she in that moment seemed to be able to put their fingers on.
It was day three into the dance, and he was not even Agony yet. Unorthodox as he tends to be, he had carted his prey to one of the numerous remote locations in his knowledge where he could conduct his ritual of sin and torment full blast without fear or any restrictions.
𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩? 𝘞𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 "𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘦" 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦?......

He was still a bit of a journeyman in the process of extracting pain at the quantities he desires with the pace he fancies then. By then, he had knocked her around quite a bit, and even tied her wrists to the back of one of his then two "hunting" cars; just for the sick pleasure he had derived from keeping his eyes more or less glued to the rearview mirror, to watch her hobble and stumble to keep up with the varying pace and patterns he was cruising the vehicle at.
Even as a more seasoned hunter now, he still holds an admiration for the latter half of the work he did on that particular victim. Starting of course, with the car pulling bit. Of course, she howled and shrieked in terror, begging him to stop at every interval that she wasn't huffing and puffing pitifully in her forced attempts to keep up in shaky legs that were weak with insufficient nutrition for a woman her age, for as long as he had kept her. Done on purpose of course, it's not like money was something even a relatively inexperienced Andy had much of a headache with (ahem! Cyber criminal, remember?)

For the first ten to fifteen minutes, she was relatively vigorous with her pleas. Of course, the intensity and frequency of them faded with time, especially as Andy deliberately upped the ante with his pacing and patterns. She soon began to move more and vocalize less, even when she did vocalize, it was restricted to low moans and grunts of woe.
To say how thrilled he had been in that moment......

Of course, somewhere along the line, he had pushed her to her impressive limits. She stumbled, righted herself with great difficulty just as Andy decided on a hairpin turn plus accelerating routine. The result was of course, a thud with a muffled grunt and the scratching sounds of an overtired adult body being dragged along like a ragdoll for a little over two meters before Andy decided he wasn't really done with his toy just yet.

About twenty minutes later, she had her back supported by a wall, several scratches and light burns and bruises on her sweaty and grimy skin, her swollen eyes slowly opened to behold the soulless metallic greys of her attacker. She was lethargic.....almost in a peaceful and amicable manner. Even when she winced from registering the stings and throbs from her injuries for sure, not to mention the ache and incredible fatigue from her exhaustion in a less than prime state.
Looking back at it, he could remember one or two glimmers of a rueful grin that she flashed at him. He really didn't understand it first time, and thought at first that she meant it as an insult. He visualized it as her sticking her tongue out at him to say; "Hey bastard, guess who's still alive afterall!"

Of course, he was psyched instead of stung by this, he took it as a signal that his toy still had one more dance left in her battered frame. He had chuckled in response, carefully tucking dirty strands of her wild and ragged blonde hair that hung over her face behind her ears. He went at it with such dedication and in such painstaking manner that one would probably find it hard to believe that he was the same man who was pulling her along behind an automobile only minutes ago.

She didn't flinch at his touch this time, instead she had closed her swollen eyes and sighed deeply. She'd probably lost about ten percent or more of her original body weight by then. Again, Andy wasn't quite sure what to make of her actions as she was the type to jump and flinch even if he was merely speaking to her in the past.
He went on with his meticulous grooming, secretly thinking about the next game to play with his little toy.....he was only twenty one then, she must've been older by six or so years.
He never took his eyes off her face (and you'd do well to know that it was not a very pretty sight after her baptism at his hands....but then again, beauty is in.....how did that damn saying go again?)

He thought and thought but could not come up with anything. Infact, he not only picked and tucked some hundred straggly individual strands in that period, she had opened her eyes too and was watching his eyes with a serene gaze (if anyone looking that bruised and dirty could muster one in an aesthetic sense)
She must've been picking up on his indecision, but he paid her no heed beyond smoothing out the grime and bits of dust and oddities that had accumulated in her hair in a monotonous trance.
"I....I think it's....𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦...."
It was a hoarse whisper and it came from her. Her eyes were still piercing but they seemed to have lost their lustre. It's usually at this point that he decides to just see what he can do to milk whatever he can from them before they expire. She seemed to have given up....
Yes he could see that she had "given up" but there seemed to be something else in her tired drawls and her weary glance. He took a bit to work it out, but he concluded that instead of just leaving it all on the line, she was infact, encouraging him.

Realization stung him, and for once, he saw that she wasn't looking at him as a psycho, a blight on humanity.....an abomination. She seemed instead, to be giving him a peaceful glare. He eased back and away from her a bit and raised a brow in a silent question; "Are you saying what I think you are?"
He didn't expect a response but he got one anyways. She gave him another rueful smile and hacked an ugly cough that he didn't bother to evade right towards his face.
"I understand....do what you have to do.....I'm too tired, I can't.....fight it anymore. If it's what you want....what you must do......I'm a goner anyway.

Might as well do some mutualism before......you know?"

It had felt like a totally regular and friendly conversation between a man and a woman. So much so that he found himself wishing that she wasn't on her last legs already. He wouldn't say that she fell in love with him or what he did to her, nor would he say that she hated it at that moment. He remained silent for a bit before asking.

"You choose. How do you wanna go out?"
He almost felt like he was back with "glasses" again. He suddenly didn't feel like a freak. A hideous abuser who had defiled the body and mind of a perfectly healthy woman and devastated them for his own perversions. He even convinced himself in that moment that he was doing nothing adverse at all. She made him feel that "normal" about it.
"Well.....I've always said that.....if I was gonna die young, it'd be cos I make men squeeze on my throat till I black out sometimes.....you know? Kink of mine...."
She even managed a wincing smile that he returned in a manner as strangled. He still wasn't sure about everything, but he knew what he had to do....and what's more? He even had her consent.
"𝘎𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵.....𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥.....𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦...."

He had thought in his mind in that moment, how lucky she was that she was about to be dispatched by an action that had brought her many highs in the past. When his eager hands wrapped around her throat, he detected just the slightest hint of sadness in her eyes. Perhaps, she didn't see things from his angle....oh well.
He squeezed, and as she had inferred, she didn't struggle visibly. Infact, the way she was able to relax? Spoke of some experience and comfort on her part. Her shaky breaths dropped to shallow depths, and soon her eyes closed....but he just couldn't let her go like that. He released her, then waited.....and her eyes opened again and locked on to his expectantly....again....and again....and again.

Somewhere in the cycle, she even smiled at him....no, to be honest she did more than just smile at him. She was positively floating on clouds...so was he. He didn't check but he didn't need to have done so.....he could just 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 the arousal and gratification in every shudder and every gasp. Every fleeting breath seemed weaker than the last, but somehow, her smile never faded. When at last, she closed her eyes and didn't come to, long enough for his hazy high to wash off, he placed his ear on her left breast and wasn't too surprised, but was a tad disappointed to hear no stubbornly beating heart. She still had that hazy, senseless smile on her face. Her eyes were shut tight with her spine curving ever so slightly. He didn't need to have felt the stiff scratch of the fabric being pushed by an erect nipple to have known that she was on some sort of sexual high in the throes of her demise. However, he knew deep down that the amicable "strangle slut" that laid limp before him was not the same woman he had captured three days earlier. She was broken....twisted, manipulated....and like Ash would later point out a year later, she was 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥.

𝗕𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵....

She must've noticed the heat he was giving off in approval, his latest prey. There's almost nothing she could 𝗱𝗼 that wouldn't tickle his fancy. It's either that, or her scrambled brains finally decided to pack it's shit together for once.
When he heard her roar at him in indignation, he couldn't help the evil laugh he gave in response. Infact, it was more of a genuine villanous chuckle that was befitting of a silver-streaked diabolical creature like him. He of course, knew that she would throw in her all into her next actions, but he had no way of knowing what those next actions would be.

𝘈𝘩....𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯.....

Her free arms shot forward in a flash of desperation, he could feel all her might behind that movement. When she managed to twist and shoot one for his ribs however, in one quick and mighty move, he didn't do anything to resist the blow.

𝙎𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙝!

To be honest, there was very little if anything he could do at all to have avoided the blow in his position just before the strike. He had been leaning his taller frame into hers, had one firm hand on her jaw, and the other pulling on her hair like a horse's leash. It also didn't help that his head was hanging at an angle towards her face. The elbow rocketed for his upper left ribcage, it smacked against it while her bare heel seized to opportunity to dig into his booted foot. Of course, he offered no resistance to that move as well and infact, stumbled into a huffy seat with a thud, on to the rickety bed.

Not only did he find her strikes fairly impactful and impressive, since he'd been forced to attend classes at the school of "hard knocks" in prison (reason for the muscular definition he now possessed on his once lithe and thin frame. Consequently, his frame just before the experiment was of a tall, tight and slender athletic build, and his remodeled body has continued to appear like that), he's learned more than the fundamentals of combat at a fairly quick and heartfelt pace. He had to marvel a bit at her positional awareness to not just see the openings vulnerable to her attacks, but also know what moves to use, and how to use them to commendable effectiveness to buy her a golden second or two for her escape.

His head snapped back towards her nude figure in a flash. He was alert to her obvious attempts to escape, but his bemused face didn't give any of the urgency he might be feeling, off. Why? Oh well, you could say that he thought of a possible contingency like this (or more accurately, Ace did).
His eyes scanned over her lazily with a chuckle of admiration spliced with amusement. He made no hurried attempts to make it up to his feet at all. Hell, he didn't even make 𝗮𝗻𝘆 attempts to do so!

𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴......

The moment it seemed like enough time for her to finally make her escape had passed, he decided to show her his hand, and deal her the crushing move he had in mind with a chorus of those demented chuckles that signalled the presence or at least, influence of the reckless Ash.
Much like she had done with the one hand that wasn't grabbing her towel in those moments immediately after he had grabbed her by the hair and yanked, he reached towards the door with both hands, and was not surprised to find them zip through the air like bullets.
They shot towards the door and crashed against it at such speed and with such a thudding impact that, had they been just a little bigger, they might've as well smashed the door down!

Studying her position, he had made sure to shoot each arm on either side of her nude frame. Consequently "railing" her in the hollow space left between their parallel positions. The arms exerted so much force to keep the door shut, that he really had to engineer a more manageable amount of force for fear of pushing the door right off it's hinges. His goal was to give her no route through the door, if she was, or had been attempting to use it as a gateway to freedom - as both her past actions and his own calculations suggested.

"𝘖𝘩.....𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝕕𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘......𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕖𝕝𝕪 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕕𝕚𝕕𝕟'𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜 𝕀 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕘𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕒 𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕠𝕨 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕚𝕝𝕪....."

His chuckle as he rose comfortably and in no hurry whatsoever began to crack at the edges with just that hint of unbridled insanity lurking. Slowly and deliberately, he began to to walk towards her.
His outstretched arms that could well pass as rails for her use, reduced the space between them significantly in a matter of milliseconds. His over-extended wrists and forearms aimed to positively dig into the starting point of those womanly curves on her hips. He wasn't necessarily interested in keeping her in her current position as a matter of necessity, and he was aware that although restricted a bit by the pinching rails of his arms, she would definitely retain the ability to move a good percentage of her body just fine.
Infact, he relished the choice he was giving her. He was curious to see what she would do at every given opportunity, and how she would do it......like a cat toying with it's prey....giving it that fleeting chance and hope of escape. Of course, very rarely, it does cost the cat a good meal, but the excitement of that interplay is worth the pangs of hunger it would feel; pending the time it would be able to either recapture that prey to finish the job, or find another one entirely.

To emphasize that point, he kept his pace deliberately unhurried. Taking each step with seemingly unforced, yet exaggerated airs or patience and solidarity.
His eyes bore sparks that cycled from one extreme to the other, at frequencies aping what the face of that bespectacled, first kiss whose name he no longer remember did after it happened.

"Awww.....I'm sorry darling. Did I take your little exit away? Did I 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢, 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚔𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚙?"

STOMP!......𝗖𝗟𝗢𝗠𝗣!.....

"𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚎, 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚕. 𝙳𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝕙𝕦𝕣𝕥 𝕞𝕖? 𝔻𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕖𝕪𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕨𝕚𝕤𝕙 𝕞𝕖 𝕒𝕨𝕒𝕪?.....𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕀 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕖𝕩𝕚𝕤𝕥?....𝕟𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕕𝕚𝕕?!

𝕆𝕣, 𝕪𝕠𝕦'𝕕 𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕗𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕠 𝕗𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗 𝕒𝕥 𝕞𝕖.....𝕔𝕝𝕒𝕨 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕣𝕚𝕡 𝕒𝕨𝕒𝕪 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕖 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕜𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕟 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕒𝕣𝕖...."

By now, he was only about four feet away from her. He was so close that he could smell the sweat that was beginning to film out and merge with the fragrance of the soap that had cleaned her body to silky freshness only moments ago.
He had a dark smirk on now, as the corners of his eyes narrowed in a creepy fashion. If he pleased, he could easily cover the distance between them in a single second.....provided of course, she didn't move till then, but his aim was to tantalize her with as much discomfort and irritation as possible. In other words, lunging towards her might be fun, but it's not the "Agony" thing to do at the moment.

"𝕆𝕣....𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕘𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕒 𝕓𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕜 𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕔𝕣𝕪 𝕞𝕪 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕜𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕟......𝕥𝕖𝕝𝕝 𝕞𝕖. 𝕎𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕕𝕣𝕠𝕡 𝕥𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕜𝕟𝕖𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕝𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕥𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤 𝕤𝕡𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕚𝕟 𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕦𝕚𝕤𝕙, 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕝𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕞𝕖𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕤 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖......

𝚃𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎!......𝘯𝘰, 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘦!"

By now, he was about three feet away from her figure, and at his last demanding question, he halted right there. He loosened the pinch of the railing arms from her waist, but didn't relent an inch of the solid pressure he was applying to keep the door snug, tight and shut.
He wanted to see her reactions....hear them......

𝙁𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢........

And the diabolical smirk on his face, said it all....loud and clear.

 

[TheSluttyBanshee]

Nothing she did seemed to work. No matter how hard she clawed at his invisible hand, his grip never loosened. She couldn't see how any of the scratches she made on him would instantly heal almost as quickly as she made them. Olivia had no idea what this thing was or what he was capable of. Not even after seeing he had a human face with full speech capabilities did she believe what she was dealing with was human. She had no idea of the world of people possessing powers or skills that either killed the innocent or protected them and she sure as hell didn't know about the experiments her attacker was put through to cause these strange changes. She didn't have time to learn of it before, and she certainly didn't have the means to put it all together now. All Olivia knew was that she was being attacked by something disguised as a human. Even as she got the chance to meet his eye, she was looking at the eyes of something that was pure evil. She was fighting a demon, she had to be. No human looked at human suffering with such glee. This was deeper than just excitement. He was getting off of her struggling, conflict, and growing hatred. His body was so hot that she couldn't think of a reason why he'd be so hot unless something inside of him was getting turned on by this. The fucking bastard was using her to get his dick hard...

Just as he predicted, her anger and hate were being fuelled by more than just her hatred and fear of him. The way her body reacted with all the signs of a woman getting turned on made her hate her own body. She's hated her body since that night at the frat house, but for a few months there, she was actually starting to like herself again. She wasn't hurting herself to feel something anymore, she wasn't riding every man who looked at her. Hell, it's actually been a while since she's fucked anything at all, which was almost as incredible of a feat as her kicking her drug addiction. But now, it was all coming back to her. The way she use to look at her body in disgust. That dirty feeling she always felt when she was full of cum. Granted, she got off on that, but she felt disgusting for her fetish too. She hated how threats of death and assault actually got her going, and this situation was no different from the others in that regard. The pain in her scalp, his lips, his voice, his threats of harm...fuck did it make her wet, and she hated herself for it. Frustration, fear, arousal, hatred...it was all so much it could bring a woman to tears. Good thing she wasn't the kind of woman to cry. He'd probably get even harder if she started crying, but the rage growing inside her was making her feel just as inhuman as he was. She felt like a starving caged tiger being poked and prodded by children. She was seconds away from exploding into a fiery rage she's never felt before. She never knew she could be so...angry.

His evil laugh made the fire of hatred burning in her soul become an inferno. He thought this was fucking funny!? This fucking bastard was actually laughing at her!? His laugh was almost comical, something that reminded her of a Saturday morning cartoon villain, and yet instead of finding such a laugh ridiculous, it broke whatever control she had over herself, and forced her into a need to hurt him. She needed to hurt him back for this. So, her fight instinct took over. The tiger finally had enough and now her claws were coming to slash the smiling faces of children who poked her a little too hard. If only she had claws, she'd love to make this fucker bleed for this.

The level of violent intent that filled her even surprised Olivia. She never wanted to hurt someone as much as she wanted to hurt him. Her rapists, her abusers, her enablers, none of them earned her the need to hurt as much as her attacker did. She wanted to stab him, cut him until he was sorry for ever finding his way into her apartment. She had no idea how he got in so quietly nor how long he had been waiting to strike, but even if she somehow got out of this alive, she'll never feel safe again. The illusion of safety she made for herself was shattered forever. She was so sick and tired of feeling unsafe and now knowing she'd never feel safe in this apartment again without the money to move and try to find some peace elsewhere just made her wrath grow so much stronger.

She didn't know what would happen, but she knew her elbow would hit its mark. Her foot likely would do nothing at all, but maybe it would help throw him off as she struck her elbow between his ribs while they were left wide open. She didn't know if he'd take the hit without any indication that she did anything at all or if she would go down with him, but when her hit was made, she felt his hand let go of her hair and the sound of her rickety bed squeak from the weight of her attacker's body. Either she actually managed to hurt him or he was playing up how effective her attack was for the sake of having more fun. Either way, she was free from his grasp and escape was within her grasp.

Her mistake might have been the split second she took to take in that she actually managed to knock him down. This meant she had the capabilities to stop him. As slim as they were, there was hope that she could beat his ass if she had no other choice. That slimmer of hope reminded her of her chance of escape and she quickly turned on her heels and shot for the door. Her split-second pause would be the fatal flaw he needed to reach out and yank at her hair again. Olivia assumed he just moved quickly to grab her and she let out a frustrated and pained cry as her hands instinctively went to her head and she slowed her legs to a halt thinking he'd hold her there...only to hear the sound of a crash towards her only exit. Her head throbbed, but no hands held her back. Her stomach dropped as she realized what happened before she even looked at what was ahead of her. That bastard...he tricked her. She thought he was going to grab and hold her from her escape, making her body assume it was being held back when he had already let go of her...just to make sure she couldn't open the door even if she made it to it...fucking clever bitch.

Her eyes slowly rose to confirm what she had already come to realize. His hands stretched ahead of her far further than what was humanly possible. Cracks formed in the walls and door around his hands, showing off how strong he could really be. Her apartments walls were cheap and weak, but the door was less so. If he could nearly blow her door off its hinges with just his hands...what else was he capable of doing? She already knew he could turn invisible and now she saw he could stretch out his arms like some kind of cartoon character, but it was the display of strength that truly made her skin crawl. And, then there was the thought that he might have been pulling back just how strong he was just to keep her exit blocked. He might be even stronger than this. He could break her bones with ease, he could snap her neck in several places with just one twist...he could grab her and made her sore in ways no man ever could. That last thought earned a tinge of hate in the midst of her stunning realization.

Her nude frame was trapped between his long arms. All signs of flight came to a halt as her mind was slow to think of what she needed to do next. She managed to hurt him...but with no way out...she knew her chances of making out of this were low. Low, but not impossible. She stood there panting, trying to get her brain to work again and shake away her terror and shock with full deep breathes, potentially the last breaths she'll ever make. His words sent a chill down her spine as she made no move. It was like she had given up, but she was far from ready to stop fighting for her life. She'd fight him until her dying breath, but now she had to be smart. She had to be more clever than him. And since he was in no hurry to put an end to this, she had all the time she needed to formulate a plan.

She turned to look at him as she heard another squeal from her bed as he rose. He began to walk towards her, but for every step he made towards her, she took a step back just as slowly as he did. Even as his hands grabbed at her womanly curves, she was free to move most of her body. His hands simply restricted some of her movement, but not all of it. She didn't even try to stop the little moan that wanted to come out of her from feeling his hands touching such tender places. Her eyes went from full of rage and fear to intelligent and almost seductive with just enough hate to prove her fighting spirit wasn't dead just yet, the eyes of a tigress. Her entire self seemingly changed the instant her hope was ripped away from her. Her full lips parted as if she was non-verbally asking for a kiss as she slowly backed up further and further without trying to flee from his hands. In fact, her own hands touched his, pressing them harder into her skin as if she wanted to encourage him to feel her body like she wanted to be toyed with. All these little things were a part of her plan and her eyes watched his reactions carefully. If she was going to survive this, she needed to learn him.

Even as he mocked her, she hardly reacted. Listening to each word and holding onto them as she slowly backed up until she had nowhere left to go. Her back pressed against the door that once was the key to her escape. She let him try to egg on her anger, holding onto every ounce of anger his words brought her to store it up for what she planned to do next. He was getting closer and closer to her and now she had no means of keeping distance between them. That spark of fear returned to her eyes, but there was far more going on in them than there was when he took her by surprise. She knew he could be fast. If he was this strong, then he could be fast too. So, she needed to act faster, but she needed to wait for the right moment.

His words let her see just how insane his mind was. He saw her as nothing more than a toy to be played with, someone to give him some fun before he got bored of her. Now, she wasn't so sure he'd kill her, at least not yet. So long as she was still fun for him...he'd keep her alive. More ideas began to form in her head. Multiple plans for multiple possibilities in her future. He stopped moving until he was three feet in front of her, his hands even loosened their hold on her as he invited her to show him what her next move was. He wanted to see it so bad? Fine...she'll show him.

She was quiet for a moment before a smile grew on her face. A wide, crazed smile that looked more like one he'd wear as it was unfitting for her pretty face. A half-chuckle left her lips as she opened her mouth to say something, but instead of her voice coming out, she lifted her leg up. She pulled her knee up until her leg was fully bent using what space was between them for her attack before she shot her leg out within seconds to kick his stomach as hard as she could. She didn't care what thing this was, a kick to the stomach would hurt anything, and he left it wide open and gave her the perfect room and position she needed to pull it off.

Whether or not he let go of her at the impact, Olivia was quick to continue her attack. She didn't wait for the pain and shock he might experience to set in before she pulled her arm back, made her hand ball into a fist, and punched his head as hard as she could, nearly pulling a muscle and making her knuckles ache as she felt his skull against them. "You think you're the first man that tried to kill me!?" She shouted, raising her other fist to hit him again to punctuate her sentence. She punched him again, making her other knuckle ache now. "The last one didn't kill me!" She hit him again, her knuckles were red and she could feel pain shooting down to her elbow, but she refused to acknowledge it. "And, I'm sure as hell. Not. Letting. You!" She started to throw in kicks to mix up her attacks and give her now bleeding knuckles some mercy. She put everything she had into this fight after he stupidly opened himself up to the assault. "I'm not about to be taken out by some freak like you!"

She didn't know if he had other victims, but if he did, the difference between her and any other woman he's attacked before was the fact that she could fucking fight. Her old life hardened her, prepared her, and now she was finally getting to bring her old moves back as she refused to give him a chance to fight back. Her rage made her sloppy though, and her pleasure over seeing her hurting him was slowing her attacks so she could have a chance to tell him off after all he's done to her. He could easily stop this assault and despite her moves, she wasn't as strong as she felt, but Olivia was blind to it. All she felt was glee and joy as she finally got to give her attacker a taste of his own medicine.

 

[Deranged]

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭!.....𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶!

Agony's senses were primed and trained on to his prey and everything she was doing. There was no clue - physical and otherwise that she gave off that he didn't register. It would be easy to imagine that a seemingly depraved and insane man like himself would be poorly aware of his surroundings, let alone, the mental and physical state of another breathing and living being he considers a mere toy. However, for Agony, the relish of every subtle and overt reaction to his ministrations, is the joy he derives from his hunts and his harvests of pain.

His prey was fooled, much like he had anticipated, she had been expecting him to just lunge after her and grab her exposed bare shoulders, or the long deep crimson leash of silky threads on her head. She was quick to anticipate the move, and even reacted in like manner by grinding to a halt with a wince and an instinctive grappling motion towards the blank air where his hands should've been had he chosen to humor her.
Agony however, is dangerously intelligent. A trait further enhanced by intensive thoughts and a consensus of generally intelligent variants of himself in his head at all times. The look of pleasure when realization dawned on her that clouded his face, was exquisite, as was the grin of satisfaction.

From there, she got her first bout of indecision..... very impressive, a fair amount of his past prey have lost a good percentage of their reasoning abilities as a whole this long into the harvest. He's just that confounding and menacing when he wants to be. For this particular prey though, there's something.....a tingle in her eyes and in her mind that made him want to protract the whole experience as much as possible. He hasn't even entertained the thought of shipping her out to a more fitting location for a full scale harvest. Normally, in "home invasion" scenarios, he just toys with them a bit, then knocks them unconscious to facilitate his transport of their limp frames to any one of his handful of "torture shrines".

The way her look melted from the stew of frustration, apprehension and hatred, to one of realization, cunning and intelligence, was a stimulating affair for him. Speaking of which, his increased circulation was already causing his briefs to begin to whine in protest, as a result of the hot, pulsing growth that the knob of flesh that they were supposed to be guarding, registered.

It's not like he was the only one suffering from the effects of the phantom of lust that has been unleashed by the unexpected and covertly expressed affinity that their bodies had for each other.
That fact was as clear as the growing faint whiffs of pungent arousal that the fluids coating certain intimate parts of her anatomy were tainting the air with. He was also not numb to the tantalizing waves of heat that her slick body had radiated against his clothed one when it was plastered against the latter.

Further hints of that arousal were beginning to manifest as he railed her in. At first, she had stiffened at his touch, which in all honesty was because of the anger and sense of defeat that followed her realization of his trickery than her being frigid to his covert, tantalizing and arousal-nourishing techniques. When she turned to see him rise though, not only her facials changed, her actions did as well.

The new look on her face, even as she cautiously backed away to maintain a safe distance away from him with each unhurried step of his; was something he really was impressed with. The quick realization on her end, that she was dealing with something more complex than she had anticipated, and her response of silently rising up to the challenge with an air of cautious defiance, was mildly intoxicating to him. He was already intrigued in that moment, to see what the hidden vixen he had roused to action was capable of.
When she absently moaned in revolted approval to the indiscriminate handling of such intimate areas by his pinching, elongated arms, he mused inwardly to himself that he just had to see the end of it. This resolution was further strengthened by her encouraging hands that dug into his invading ones.

Unconsciously, or otherwise, she had parted her lips in a subtle air at different times in his questioning tirade. She appeared so kissable in those moments, had he been less disciplined mentally, (strange thing for an insane man right?) he'd definitely have lunged for her voluptuous body and perhaps, fallen for the invisible traps she was scrambling in her dignified silence to set for him.
On closing down on her however, when her back had finally flattened against the door with nowhere else to go (much like Hotshot had ran into the cul-de-sac of the wall behind her a few or more minutes ago). It was then that the hollow sparks of fear had returned to her eyes, earning that last injection of malicious insanity that had fueled Ace's sections of the last part of his tirade. When the silence that followed his questions settled on them both though, it was then that he noticed the wheels churn furiously in her eyes, it was then that he realized that he was engaged with a very spirited woman who would honor his offer to show him what her reactions would be.

It began with a quick smile, then a crack in her composure as she took the route of the crazy little kitten he had described in his graphic interrogation.
She looked so twisted and crazy and evil with so much malice swirling in her beautiful eyes, that it clashed with her attractive face, yet made her appear like the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life......there was just something so.....majestic.....appealing and.....

𝗖𝗥𝗔𝗦𝗛!

Like a bomb that was long overdue to detonate, he felt an injection of explosive pain in his insides as her crude lifting front kick, injected an explosion of momentum and an extension of all the malice and frustrations that the harvest had wrought on her till that moment, to his carelessly, overexposed torso that was just ripe for the blow.
His eyes shut and his breath flushed out in one powerful snort. He staggered backwards but was oblivious to everything going on around him, other than the fact that he made a clear and unshaken effort to maintain his hold on the door. Two vice like clamps on the muscles and tendons in the back of his neck seized his senses. A beautiful mushroom cloud of pain shot from the epicenter of the strike; which was just above his solar plexus, where her bare heel had dug in with unbridled malice.

At first, all his senses shut themselves off to further maximize the thrill that his overstimulated nerve fibres got from the all-reaching waves of pain that the explosion had generated in him. Had she kicked him while he was as wide open as that before he was remodeled, he might've had a few organs get bruised by the impressive strike.
When he registered another spark of pain emanating from the first fist she swung and sunk into his flesh, his irritability returned with a vengeance, and so did his hearing when her first bellow left her throat.

Both his hearing and irritability were heightened to ungodly levels without his control. Not only could he feel the tongue-curling waves of throbs and aches among the stings of her repeated strikes, he was also able to hear every active and passive vocalization she uttered.....down to the hissy breaths that resulted from her exertion.
Yet, his eyes remained closed....elongated arms remained strongly fixed to the door as he continued to stagger, grunt and contort his face in a variety of ways expressing exquisite agony.

Somewhere along the line, his eyes opened to appreciate the beauty of the fire in her eyes just as she swung a seemingly tiring leg at his left thigh. She looked just like a tigress......powerful, assertive and very sure of herself as she continued to tell him just how unremarkable his attempts to destroy her were to him. Not once did he raise a fibre of his being in defense....but it was becoming impossible to hide the grins of exquisite pleasure and gratification that followed each increasingly leggy strike she made. His head snapped from yet another fist being swung against his jaw. The motion was accompanied by a light spray of saliva and sweat, some of which might've landed on her face or in her hair or both, and further coated it with more liquid matter to complement the film of sweat gathering on her face, and the remnants of the droplets from her bath.

He too was sweating now, and gradually, his calm disposition was returning. The fireworks of pain and the novelty behind them began to reduce in quantity and quality with every subsequent strike, and every additional jibe.
Not once did he speak during all these, but he did take the liberty of running his eyes through her sweaty, malicious, smaller and curvier frame as she vented against him. Her knuckles were red, one or two might've even split open, and he raised a brow in diabolical gratification and appreciation when it seemed like she was finally running out of steam.

Not once did he interrupt her performance or output; verbal or physical. He just reacted with less and less enthusiasm as her zeal seemed to fizzle out concurrently. The look of the impression she made on him, remained plastered to his face and branded into his silvery eyes though, even as his enthusiastic responses faded. Not once did his skin break during the whole encounter, and not once did his long arms leave the door.......in the end though, he was bound to respond sooner or later, and as he watched the furnace of hatred and malice fueled by the obvious enjoyment she was getting from hurting him dance in her eyes.....he could guess that she suspected so too deep down.....

𝗦𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗖𝗛!

His reaction began with a blinding quick retraction of his elongated arms. They returned to normal length at once, much to his secret relief and relish. He gave a round of three quick nods of approval and clapped once. A shrill, yet explosive burst of compressed air jetting out from the crevices of his joined palms. It was sudden, but so was his next move.

Without warning or ceremony, he quickly reached into her hair with his right hand. His trained and experienced fingers wrapped around the curtain of red threads in no time at all, and with a slight casual chuckle, he yanked upwards.
There was a look of casual ecstasy swimming in his eyes as he watched her face begin to elevate under his grasp. At first, only her head rose, but quite soon after, her entire body began to migrate upwards at a deliberately slow and sensuous pace. He placed his free hand on his hip and watched with the same bemused expression, as her feet began to leave the floor. Faint throbs from her assault knocked about his fibres with every hammering pulse.
He had a mind to say nothing at all, regardless of her reactions. Spent as she may be, he knew it wasn't above her to thrash her feet into his torso, hence, why he had placed his free hand on his hip, and spread his feet a bit to give himself some much needed stability.....just in case.

Slowly but surely, her eye level was rising until it was almost in line with his own that was obviously higher by a bit. Agony had a height to match his once thin frame, standing at four inches above six feet, he had once looked so gangly and breakable that he had refrained from looking into anything but a hand mirror for two years!
By the time her eyes were level with his; thanks to his obviously superhuman feat of strength, he let her hang and dangle for a bit, chuckling like a kid in possession of a scurrying little animal. He deliberately shook his grasping hand a bit, to send vibrations through her hanging frame; a palatable result of which was the jiggling of her proud breasts as they struggled not to slap against themselves.
He did this for a bit without talking or shaking from his position, he merely stared deep into her eyes whenever his careless gaze wasn't drinking in the vibrations of her breasts, or the delicious view of her frontal frame that the interesting position afforded him with ease.

"You made it sound like I and those men in question, did something unthinkable...."

Those where his first words as he finally stopped his undulating motion with his arms. He instead, retracted them until her face was so close to his, that it'd be impossible for either of them to not inhale parts of the air just exiting the other's lungs.
He didn't miss the cushion of those fascinating mounds on her chest against his own too.
For a moment, he kept his silver orbs fixated on hers......boring into them intensely. He could now smell more of the mixture of her arousal and sweat, than any of it's individual components.....it excited him, worsened the bulge in his crotch, and he tantalized her slick pubes with the brief spells of contact that the hot, pulsing bulge made with the slippery groove between her legs.

"Weren't you, just a moment ago......weren't you infact, enjoying your assault against me?"

His tone bore not even the slightest hint of that insanity of varying pitches that it once bore. In it's place was the calm drone of a smooth bass rolling from deep within his throat.
Unphased and unperturbed, his free hand left his hip and cupped one of the outward curves of her ass carelessly. It squeezed twice, hard and pinched once, before walking a trail with it's index and ring finger, up her sweaty, nude spine and to the back of her head.
He whispered a breathy trail behind her ear again, not relenting in the force of the pull "hanging" her by a bit. Once his nose was nestled in the groove between the back of her right ear and that corner of her neck, he streamed out a hot breath and chuckled as the non-offending arm cupped the back of her head in a romantic manner......a stark opposite to the clear disregard his grasping arm was showing in hanging her by her hair.

His lips quivered with a torrent of unreadable emotions as they grazed and hovered right inside the canal to her ear. Like a tempting siren on the verge of luring stupefied prey further into her lair, he whispered almost musically and trance-like.

"Tell me....kitten. Didn't you enjoy it too? The cursing....the hurting....all that malice stewing in your breasts. Clogging them up and lightning your breaths with so much anticipation....so much need.....

I bet the catharsis resulting from cracking your knuckles and feet against my frame was....incalculable.
You wanted it....NEEDED it, and when you finally got it, you couldn't stop....not because you hate me or because you believe that I wronged you.....no.
You couldn't stop because it IS what you wanted....what you needed....what you are....my little kitten. Isn't that right?

𝘈𝘥𝘮𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘵!"

Agony can be described as a living manifestation of unpredictable permutations. Just as he was rounding off his intimate whispers, he felt that pulse in his everything go that one extra mile, and in that moment.....something even he didn't see coming, happened.

𝘙𝘪𝘪𝘪𝘐𝘐𝘗! 𝘚𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘌𝘌𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘚𝘚𝘏!

He had no way of knowing what happened next beforehand, but when it did, he didn't care too much at first. Tortured by the overstimulation from stimuli, ranging from scratching pain, to throbbing pleasure in the confines of his briefs and chino pants combo. A certain pulsing, conical piece of his flesh was severely agitated. The alternation and variation of stimuli proved to be too much, the fact that it's owner wasn't paying sufficient attention to it, especially when the electrifying contacts between the wet groove nestled between his captive's legs began to register.......his body had once again, decided to take matters into its own hands. In a sudden burst of pressure and unnatural growth under Agony's nose, his angry rod had lanced right through the fabric, laying waste to any part of the imprisoning combo that was in it's way as it had shot out like a harpoon. It was not until the sparkshots of pulses and contractions of passive and shocking pleasure, that registered as the engorged and smeared tip of the angry rod of flesh jabbed against the wet groove in a forceful punch just after his speech concluded, that he took notice.

"𝙁𝙐𝚄𝚄𝙲ℂℂℂ𝕂𝕂𝕂𝕂!"

He exclaimed and followed it with a sharp exhale and an even louder grunt. The event had blindsided him completely and took him by surprise. His eyes slammed shut and his face twisted as a result of the overload of stimuli. His angry hard-on had taken the liberty of shooting and squeezing through the crevice between their very proximal and hot bodies. Unfortunately for the unsuspecting Agony and very fortunately for his neglected and rapidly elongating and pulsing cock, it's hypersensitive underside was pressed against the wet curves and supple cushions of his prey's pubes. Gathering what little of her juices it could from there and using it as lubrication, it shot upwards like a plant on roids until it forced it's way right through her "supposed to be clammy" cleavage. If it was supposed to be uncomfortably hot, wet and tight by Agony's calculations, his invading tip found it to be anything but uncomfy in reality.

Agony was shocked; by the overload of sensations as his irritability had decided to spike once more under his nose, and also by the unexpected and uncontrolled movements from something so intimately, a part of him. (Okay, stretching hands were cool and all under his nose, but a stretching, hypersensitive dick?!)

His eyelids flickered in fluttering waves with his head thrown back, and his face screwed in unspeakable confoundment; as another tide of sensations hit him on his serpentine cock's recovery run. Retracting as rapidly as it had stretched, his serpentine and rogue penis shrank right back to it's regular 7.5 inch slender length, aided and abetted by the potpourri of lubricating fluids that ranged from the ones it spat out, to the ones it had encountered on the curvy, nude frame of the still hanging woman in it's owner's grasp.

"𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙫𝙚.....𝙂𝙾𝚃𝚃𝙰 𝙱𝙴.....𝕂𝕀𝔻𝔻𝕀ℕ𝔾 𝕄𝔼!"

He groaned as the slippery sounds of his snaking cock retracting to normal length while being sandwiched between two hot adult bodies, filled the air.
The unexpectedness of the whole thing rendered him vulnerable to the full force of the sensations that crippled him and caused him to freeze right in place and position, keeping his prey hung. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he was stunned to realize that his pelvic muscles were not contracting to force semen through the slit in his offending cock. For a full minute or two, he shuddered as he tried to pull himself together and activate his "superior mental temperament". He had no idea though, when his free hand had instinctively snaked down the trail it had walked up his prey's spine moments ago, and snaked even further down - past the twin swell of her ass.

It was not until he had dropped his prey carelessly, by unlatching the hanging hand from her hair, that he discovered that his body had unilaterally made that sneaky arm shoot it's ring finger right into the frothing slit between his prey's legs....burying it to the hilt. As he had been leaning away and infact staggering backwards to fully regain his composure when he dropped her, the sudden jolt and snap of force he felt in his elbow, (seeing as his fucking arm decided against stretching in that moment....what a surprise!) woke him up.

In slight alarm, he had instinctively curled the offending finger in response to the sharp jolts of pain that stabbed it as gravity dragged the woman down, and Agony whose body it was a part of, was pulling away, perfectly unaware that he had a finger trapped in the woman's muscular tube.
If Agony wasn't himself, no doubt the finger would've been hyper-extended. However, after a small ring of cracks and snaps, the curved finger flushed right out of the slit in a moment, grazing closely in a rough scratching motion, and possibly bruising through the top part of the tight, hot and frothing tube. Perhaps, the tube's slippery nature helped reduce the impact a bit, but even Agony couldn't help withdrawing the entire arm and enclosing the offending finger with his other hand as he stumbled back in pain.

"𝔻𝕒𝕞𝕟!"

A swirl of emotions engulfed him. He was angry, confused....in pain....aroused....and very much....

𝘪𝘯 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘪𝘧......

𝘏𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘯𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰, 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘷𝘶𝘭𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘵. 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯.

 

[TheSluttyBanshee]

No matter how hard or how often Olivia struck, the stranger's arms stayed strongly fixed to the door behind her. She was still trapped by his arms, she refused to take the chance to escape unless the bastard let go on his own accord. She was hurting him and it gave her hope that she could over come this. She's had men hurt her all her life and while none of them were ever like the one in front of her, she refused to let another one hurt her again, especially with the energy in the room. It was thick and angry, feral even, but there was an undeniable aspect to it that terrified her. He's taken more interest in her then just hurting her, she could see it in him. The attempted lunge at her was proof enough that if she gave him the chance to win now, he'd rape her. And knowing herself, it might never even be a rape, but something else entirely. She couldn't ignore what fighting for her safety has done to her, she was turned on, but she'd be dead before he'd let this man do anything to her. This FREAK wasn't going to win.

He wasn't even trying to defend himself now. She knew something was wrong, but couldn't give him the chance to strike back, but at the cost of her energy. Her knuckles were bleeding from the constant hitting, her limbs were aching. She could feel her kicks start to weaver, they were becoming weaker and less sturdy. Her eyes widened as she could see the twisted grin on his face in between hits. He was fucking enjoying this!? What was up with this freak!? No matter what she did, he found some kind of enjoyment out of it! Even when she was hurting him, he was fucking liking it! Her fist connected with his jaw and a spray of saliva and blood hit her face, joining in with her ever growing film of sweat and leftovers from her bath. She was going to need another shower after this...assuming she didn't die by the end of the night. She needed to wash the spit and blood from this freak off of her, but refused to let her disgust stop her now.

Olivia was slowing down, getting weaker, running out of breath. She was trapped and terrified, all she could do was just keep fighting, but every swing was getting harder and harder. She tried to aim for his face once she caught on that while he wasn't talk, he was sure as hell watching her. His digesting eyes looking at her with such perverse thrill that she wished she could take his eyes out of his head, but she could hardly keep up with her current plan. Despite her split knuckles, she hadn't broken any of his skin. It was like she was hardly doing anything to him. Bruises maybe, pain certainly, but she wasn't hurting him like how she wanted to hurt him. She wanted to make this bastard bleed, but her fists and kicks weren't going to do it and she was too far from getting any kind of real weapon to stand a chance. Her hopes were starting to weaver...

Suddenly, his arms retracted. She was finally free, but now she was slow and hurt. She didn't have the chance to react to what his nods could mean before he clapped his hands together and shot a explosive jet of air in her face. She was forced to stop striking, lifting her arms to protect herself, but she'd hardly even get to lift her arms before his fingers grabbed her hair. A cry of pain shot out of her and horrible pain shot through her scalp before she even realized what caused it to begin with. He was pulling her hair! Her hands went up to his and tried to pry his hand away. Her head was forced up from his grip, but her pain only worsened as he began pulling her up in the air. Her feet couldn't touch the ground and the pain in her scalp burned, ached, and forced tears into her eyes. She prayed her hair could just break from her scalp just to stop the pain, but even worse, she hated her pathetic cries. His smile fueled her rage as she tried to use her legs to kick at him as her nails tried to claw into his skin, desperately trying to cut into his skin, and force him to let her go. Even if her feet did manage to hit him, he sturdied himself so she couldn't knock him down easily. Tears ran down her face as her cries of pain mixed with screams of frustration, boiling into full on crying as all the fear, pain, anger, and frustration became too much for her.

The fact she could look this tall man in the eye at the height he had her at told just how high off the ground she was. All her weight hanging and making the pain in the scalp even worse. He chuckling made her shout at him, "Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!" She felt more like a child going through a temper tantrum than a woman fighting for her life. Her shouts became whines as he shook her in his hand, making her head ache even worse, but humiliating her in the same gesture by making her tits jiggle and bounce for his enjoyment. The bastard was having fun with her! Treating her like some doll that he could break for the fun of it. And the worst part was...he could. He could pop her head off just like any other plastic doll and it was finally starting to sink in. This was it, he outsmarted her, overpowered her, she'd never stop fighting him, but in her heart...she knew this was over. He won...

Then...he spoke. The fucker finally spoke. Her shock to actually hear his voice was nothing compared to what happened next. He pulled her close, so close that he forced her to breath his air. Her breasts were forced against him. Soft mounds against a hardened chest. Despite the pain, her body ached from these sensations. As much as she hated him, it turned her on knowing his air was now her air. Her eyes stared at his, wide and fearful. Her breath hitched as she felt her effect on him. His rock hard bulge brushing against her and despite the tears and pain, her hips jerked towards him. Her sex wanting more of its attention.

"What!?" She shouted at him. The mere implication that she was enjoying this made her anger spike, but her pussy was all the proof he needed to prove his point. Deep down, something dark and animalistic loved his abuse, loved his perversion, and was curious about the things he could do to her.

His voice didn't mimic his insanity. Her nipples ached and her arms grew goosebumps from his smooth, deep voice. She thought of hearing that voice in her ear and imagined what his pleasured sounds must sound like and it certainly didn't help her needy cunt. His next move only made it worse. His hand found her ass, in between her cries joined a new sound, a confused moan as he squeezed and pinched her plentiful flesh. Her back arched, pushing her breasts into his chest even harder as his hand made her spine tingle from its exploration. His second hand joining her head made her tense that her scalp was in for more misery, but she was spared for now. His whispers, his nose nestling in the groove of her ear and neck, his hot breath, and fuck even his chuckle made her hips buck at him. Between whimpers, cries, sniffles, and grunts, she began whining needily. The little things made her core tight, her insides flexing in need of something to squeeze. Her arousal built up between her legs so much that she thought she was going to start leaking. It was almost...romantic had it not been for his hand making her scalp hurt so badly.

Hearing him call her kitten made her want to punch him again, but she audibly shuttered at it too. Her eyes widened fearful as he pegged her. Her breath picked up and her hair rose on the back of her neck. She wanted to hurt him, she enjoyed hurting him... not because he was threatening her, but because it felt good to hurt someone...she began to fear what that meant. But, she wouldn't get much of a chance to think about it, let alone answer him.

The sound that suddenly ripped between her legs made her eyes widen again. She froze, trying to deny that what happened happened. There...was no way. But, little did she know just how possible an impossibility was. She yelped as she sudden felt it against her. A hot, angry, pulsing cock almost punching her lower lips as it ripped through his pants. She was forced to feel it as his cock seemed to have a mind of its own and forced itself between their bodies, making her feel every throb and pulse. Her jealous pussy squeezed hard on air demanding to be filled, but angry that it hadn't been yet. Her clit ached painfully, needing attention desperately from someone, anyone, even this freak and his freaky cock. She could feel how long and thick he was naturally, knowing he could easily ruin her insides if he wanted to. Her poor cervix would get abused by him if he ever wanted to feel how tight her insides were and at this rate...that was likely to happen. What wasn't nearly as likely was what came next.

"What the fuck!?" She shouted in terror and confusion as she could actually feel it growing. Not just growing, but actually moving. It grew and stretched, using her sweat to lubricate itself and even found itself at home between her breasts. The pressure of his chest made her tits a cozy home for him for the few moments it remained between them. Her panting picked up. Not just poor cervix, poor womb too if he actually used this damn thing on her! She couldn't handle it. It was all becoming too much. This is too crazy to be real!

From his reaction, this was a new development for him too. She didn't know if she should be flattered or disgusted that she got him so horny that his dick literally grew, but right now, it was mostly disgust and disbelief. She was so frozen in shock and disbelief that she didn't even realize how still he was. Even as his hand sneaked back down her spine, her body knew what was happening, but it didn't register for her. Her ass pushed back into his hand until his touch has disappeared again. It was only when she felt a sudden invasion did her eyes widen and a hot gasp shoot out of her. A sneaky hand forced his ring finger inside of her, burying deep, and giving her walls something to squeeze on. Her eyes rolled up and her hips instinctively tried to ride his finger, her insides lighting up in pleasure to finally have something to suck and squeeze...until her sudden and unceremonious fall.

The pressure in her head finally ended, but the landing wasn't kind to her either. She ended up landing right on her rear, but fortunately the stranger's finger was hurt in the process. Despite the pain of a finger suddenly forced harder into her, her pussy adored how deep it got, her insides trying to keep him inside even as he pulled his finger free from her. Olivia ended up laying down on her back, her scalp throbbing, and her chest rising and falling. She didn't even try to protect her sex anymore. Her arousal flooded her thighs and soaked her lips after his finger opened her gates. She laid there in disbelief, shock, pain, and exhaustion, but the strongest feeling of all was the need between her legs.

Her hands moved without thinking. She spread her legs wider and a hand went for her breast, pinching her own nipple. Her left hand went between her legs as she plunged two fingers inside of herself. "I can't...I can't--" She tried to stop herself, but her arousal grew too intense, she needed to fuck something--NOW! Her insides sucked and pulled in her fingers, but it wasn't enough. She needed something thicker, longer...fuck...fuck, fuck, fuck! She couldn't believe this. She pulled her fingers out slowly, making the stranger look at how coated fingers and how her arousal strings hung between her fingers when she spread them. "I don't know what the fuck is going on or what the fuck you want, but you better get over here and fuck me before I get over there and fuck you myself. If you came to rape me, here's your chance you fucking freak." Her fingers moved to rub her clit, her lips moaning, and hips jerking up in the air, begging for more. Her body begging for him to use her while she was still high on the cacophony of emotions spiraling inside her.

 

[Deranged]

With eyes locked on to her frame in the aftermath of her fall, throbbing finger hanging just inches before his lips and nose - flooding it with a heady wave of her lustful aroma in the process, and doing no favors to the jerks and twitches rocking his excited cock, Agony was slowly coming to terms with the fact that he had underestimated just how much of a jackpot this beautiful young woman would be to him. The longer he watched her as the once sharp edge of pain throbbing and pulsing in his soppy finger ebbed away, the more he could see, smell, feel, and understand all the overt and passive signals that she began to give him. She was a woman in need, almost in a crisis of lust. While that in itself was exciting for him, it was the knowledge of what roused such a churning wave of lust in her body to begin with, that really sent jolts of excitement pounding in every vessel he possessed... She was aroused by the violence of the last few minutes... The violence of her rebuttals, her assault, his crafty and methodical handling of her body, as well as her psyche... She was aroused by... Agony!

It all was clear for him to see. There was nothing ambiguous about it, as it was literally, right on display before his gaze. His eyes darkened, and brightened at the same time; a hue of sadistic enjoyment coating and darkening it's outer rims, while a glint of lust and excitement ignited the ring in the middle of that dark halo. He stood there just as he was at first, eyes carefully scanning her form; the way she continued to lie on her back - the same position she had fell into, the way her chest rose and fell rapidly, as sweat and healthy sprays of his saliva and blood rolled down the canvas of her skin... His eyes would ride up to lock on to hers, and yet, he remained where he stood. He could see the fear, the confusion, the arousal, but most importantly, the overpowering shade of lust... The primal resolution to satisfy the callings of her body.

His eyes would roam downwards; slowly... He didn't appear to be in any hurry whatsoever. They rested on the heaving and dripping images of her breasts for nearly half a minute, time in which a grin slowly curved the left corner of his mouth. Once his eyes had their fill there, they continued to coast slowly downwards, past the heaving valley of her dripping tummy, all the way to the exposed junction between her legs. At this point, he brought the soppy finger to the top of his lips and placed it there; drawing in a deep breath and holding it in lingering fashion inside his lungs. Her scent... It was so strong, it was strong and expressive enough to tell him two things. One, she was a woman with a strong sexual appetite. Two, as if every other clues that her display since her fall had been telling him were absent, she was incredibly horny at the moment...

His eyes would soon land on the slick outlines of her fleshy lips. He trailed the glistening outline for a bit, but his gaze was soon to be arrested by a winking slit that was relentlessly pumping out more of her savory scent; saturating the air, and calling out to every fiber of his being to pounce on her, and exercise every carnal act and art known to him on her excited frame. Her pheromones weren't the only things oozing out of that slit too, his eyes caught the slick secretions streaming down her thighs, and his grin slowly widened as he took his first step.

His first step was slow... Too slow to whet the instant thirst that the inferno in the bloodstream of his agonizing prey had roused. He rumbled out a low chuckle, relishing the scene as she mentally wrestled with herself at first. Her mind, the facade, the part of her that was still holding on to some semblance of dignity and morals, it obviously urged her to hold back. Her body though, was not having it, and he was loving the show... Every bit of it.

He took his second step, by now, her legs were spread out invitingly, calling out to his cock, and it obliged her with a spontaneous twitch from the hole it had created for itself. A small shiver of pleasure and victory, ran up his spine as her hands attacked her erogenous zones. Everything in his body was calling to him to pounce upon her and ravish her this very moment, to seize her, and take what he wanted from her... What was HIS to take from her. Yet, he remained deathly calm, offering her nothing but his chuckles, and his agonizingly slow approaching steps to close the distance between them.

The closer he got, the thicker her scent became, the more her arousal, and it didn't take long for her to verbally express it, even. Her choice of words amused him, and the pathetically glorious collapse of her restraint was equally interesting to him. He watched with satisfaction, as her fingers worked; the blurry motions, the occasional slaps, the webbing of aroused juices that coated her rapidly moving hand, and crept even further down her thighs, and between the crack of those succulent cheeks of her ass. His cock strained harder, bobbing and twitching, glistening soon too, even. It showed every sign of wanton lust in the flavor that she showed, yet, he neither increased his pace, nor responded to her as he continued to slowly close the distance between them.

When he finally knelt right before her, two agonizing minutes must've passed. Her scent was completely overpowering now, so it wasn't as lulling to keep his soppy finger on his upper lip. His lead knee was so close to her jiggling and bucking hips, if he moved it just one rapid inch, it would surely bump hard into the frothing slit that her fingers were grazing desperately. Using his haunting height, he loomed over her, bending slightly to peer down directly into her eyes. Knowing how rabid she was at the moment, and that her threat to jump at him and initiate matters by herself were not empty ones, he placed one firm hand on the the top of her abdomen, just inches below her sweaty cleavage,, then pressed it in. He didn't apply enough pressure to rob her of her breaths substantially, as he was really enjoying her high pitched whines and moans, however, it was enough to secure her, and prevent any possible 'springing surprise' she may have in store.

"Oh... Lucky me. So, not only are you a slut for violence, you're an actual slut too..."

His lips cracked into a grin, his weight lowering into hers as he inched his face closer, then stopped just when the tip of his nose was grazing hers in her exertions. Seemingly from nowhere, he snaked the hand bearing the soppy finger up her cleavage, then pushed the soppy finger that was coated in a healthy globs of her potent juices, roughly into her mouth, until he could feel it grazing slightly against the back of her throat. He kept it there, observing with an absolutely depraved grin, the image of her furiously working face while she mercilessly rubbed herself, and his finger was plugging her mouth.

He drifted his face to the left, leaving a prickling trail of his breath till his lips settled on her lobe, and his teeth nipped at it. Once, twice, thrice... His incisors nipped hard against the soft flesh, not nearly hard enough to draw blood, but definitely hard enough to leave a viable mark. At the end of the third nip, he decided to put that lead knee to use; he snaked up the hand on her abdomen to her free breast, squeezing in one steady and increasingly hardening grasp, just as his lead knee jerked forward, bumping hard into her quivering slit, and grinding the fabric coating it, slow and hard against it. He knew that she would still have the space to rub her clit as furiously as she had being doing, and with his sadistic intent to tease her even in the throes of apparent desire, he was sure that she would need the stimulation.

"Falling apart already? So soon?... Well, I don't blame you."

His whispers were directly against her left ear, and his tongue punctuated them with a swirling motion around the whole thing. He made sure to penetrate every nook with the wet, pink, piece of flesh. He relished the taste of her sweat. It was so saturated with her pheromones, that it was as if he was lapping directly at her frothing slit.

"Lemme guess?... You thought you were gonna have a free ride now. A happy ending? A good prick up your wanton cunt to sate your desires?"

His voice was slightly husky, despite the context of his words. His hard on was pressing hard against some of her most intimate parts now. He wasn't sure where exactly, but judging by the sticky and slick warmth and pressure he could feel, he guessed that it was prodding a combination of her thighs, blurry hand, and her outer lips, as he grinded his weight down on her ever so slightly. His lead knee, and the hand that was employed in squeezing her breasts in that same determined hard rhythm, were the ones doing most of the movement. Of course, there was his mouth; his nipping, licking and washing of her ear with hot breaths when he wasn't speaking.

"So, you'll get your fun... Well. It'll happen, eventually. There's no denying that I want to use every single bit of this gorgeous flesh of yours, for my most selfish indulgences in sexual pleasure."

"But..."

He pulled out the finger from her mouth, eased back his head from her ear, and bore down his face directly on top hers. He wasn't exactly straddling her slippery body yet, as he wanted her to continue to have room to punish her offending clitoris if she felt the urge for it, however, his long frame was arching over hers like a long bridge; both knees digging into her hips, with one grinding into her slit sadistically, and the other doing the same to her left ass+cheek. Now that his other hand was free, it too joined the one squeezing down on her breasts, with a considerable amount of his weight.

"Talk is cheap... You know what really gets me going? What spins those sick wheels in my head? I want to see you fight for it... I want to see what you'll do, when the object of your desire is within touching distance..."

"I want to know if you'll sit back there and try to suck it in, and for how long too. If you'll choose to grab it, I'd like to see, and feel you try..."

Without preamble, he sank his open mouth directly into hers after this in a hard, breath -sapping kiss. His hands rolled her nipples now, hard. However, like the insane sadist that he was, instead of plunging his hip to facilitate that delicious connection that they both wanted so badly, he was more interested in grinding that lead knee into her frothing gash as the kiss progressed in it's grating vacuum. He shoved his tongue in, exploring her mouth with it in the same slow and hard pace that he seemed to favor.

His angry cock twitched and bobbed around whenever he teasingly lifted his hip in the air, he would hold it there for a little under a second, before jabbing it down hard against hers. His cock would then poke and prod against her thighs, her slick lips, her hand... Anything but that tempting slit that was threatening to suck in anything that was lucky or unlucky enough to be caught in it's sweet trap.

 

[TheSluttyBanshee]

Olivia couldn't understand why this was happening to her. Even when she indulged in her sex addiction, nothing affected her like this freak did. She's never been so wet and needy before, especially when her life might be on the line. The people she use to hang around with made life or death situations a frequent occurrence. Knives, guns, and even more creative weapons like power tools were threatened to be used against her or to someone close to her. Violence was always around the corner and she got hurt a lot, but her drug fueled state made it hard for her to feel the full extent of the pain. She was always high on something at that point. She knew she was easy to turn on, too easy sometimes, but this was different. She assumed this man wanted to hurt her, but she didn't understand why it excited her. She didn't understand why the pain he inflicted on her just made her feel amazing. She couldn't focus on it since she was fighting for survival, but now that she was lying on the floor and at his mercy, she could focus on the details. How her body ached from their fight and how her knuckles split and her blood seeped through. Her source of life was slightly escaping her. Part of her even imagined the sensation of the stranger grabbing a knife and slowly cutting into her skin. The thrill of her blood escaping! This wasn't from a urge to die, but an urge to live!

Her need to survive and fight for her place in this world was so exciting! Even thinking back on it, she gave the sloppiest blowjobs when she had a gun to her head. Back then, she just thought it was because she thought the better she was at it, the more likely she'd live at the end of it. While it was true for her case, now she knew it was something much bigger than that! It was the threat of death and yet still overcoming it! The pain heightened her pleasure to degrees that normal sex didn't do for her. She always had to have it rough to feel anything, usually having to stick to BDSM or just someone who wasn't afraid to hurt her. It made her a perfect target for abusive relationships and she was trying so hard to not have to go through that again. She didn't want to live her life like that, but the stranger was reminding her why it was so hard for her to leave it in the first place. The pain was just too sweet to abandon now and now that she saw what this freak was capable of, she knew he could do things to her that no man ever could.

She knew her fingers wouldn't be enough. It was just an attempt to get her to relieve some of her pent up need. Her clit ached so badly that it hurt, which just turned her on more. Her nipples tingled and ached for attention, but most of all, her pussy needed something to stretch her open. Something big, brutal, and unrelenting. She could see his eyes roam her body, taking in how her breasts bounced against her chest as she squirmed and whined pathetically like a bitch in heat. Her hips wiggling and shaking as her lips stayed parted to let out the moans her fingers could bring her as her sex made a pool on the floor. His first step excited her, her smile turning into a grin as she thought the man would come to her and give her exactly what she asked for, but he took his sweet time getting to her...and it was starting to piss her off.

Despite there being a perfectly wet cunt ready for him, even inviting him to come and partake in her honey, he took his time getting to her. Her aches were getting worse by the minute and the more she hurt, the more she got turned on, and the more impatient she became. Eventually, he knelt before her. His knee was so close that her hips tried to find it so she could fuck herself up against it, but she had no such luck. "Come on! Fuck me already!" She shouted at him before she was silenced by the hand on her abdomen. She shuddered feeling his strong hand holding her down, but she knew this was his attempt to protect himself in case she tried to pull anything rather than something to help with her needs. Her eyes looked up at him, seeing his face made her furrow her eyebrows to remind him that she hated him, but needed him for her own reasons and he clearly needed something from her too. Just seeing his face again pissed her off even more, but she was too horny to care. She'd fuck anything right now if it meant getting a cock in her, even his. His hand pressed down on her chest, not robbing her breath, but making her lungs panic. Her lungs struggled to fill completely, but it was a far cry from choking her. No, this was a show of power and dominance.

"Fuck you," Was her only response, but only after she bit her lip from him calling her a slut. Her eyes gave away how much she enjoyed that word despite all the hate she had in them.

She glared at him as their noses almost touched, there was still defiance in her, but she was so overcome with lust that she didn't care who he was to her so long as he fucked her hard and mercilessly. The point was proven how she didn't fight him as he pressed his wet finger in her mouth. Her lips instantly sucking on it and moaning as she tasted herself on him. Her tongue cleaned every inch of his finger and didn't stop even after he was clean. She sucked and licked his finger harder the rougher he was with her and even as he brought his finger to the back of her throat, he'd find out her history when she hardly gagged from it. She was a professional cock sucker who had plans to retire...unless he came into her apartment.

With his lips near her ear, Olivia naturally turned her head to expose her ear to him. She squirmed underneath him, squeezing her chest with her hand as he nipped at her ear. Her eyes closed to savor the one, two, three nips before he made her moan into his finger with a hard bite on her lobe. Her back arched, her breast pressing into his chest as her thighs squeezed his hips between them. The pain shooting through her sensitive ear kick started her whimpers again. Not whimpers of pain or fear, not truly, but whimpers of need and lust. She moaned more as he joined her hand and grabbed her free breast, taking advantage of her generous flesh and enjoying it as much as she was. But, what drove her wild the most was his knee. Her thighs jerked and she hummed a "Mmmph!" into his finger, but refused to stop sucking. Her pussy throbbed painfully and yet instantly started to ride his knee. Her hips jerking into it to fuck herself on his knee with her finger still aggressively rubbing her clit. Her pussy making his pants darken as she soaked him in her arousal.

With her hips busy, she was left defenseless against his whispers. She didn't abandon his finger for a moment and even shivered as his tongue explored her ear. Her thighs shaking on either side of him as she felt his slick appendage taste every inch of her ear in both delightful and strange ways. "Mmmm..." She moaned again as he filled her head with the image of him pushing his cock into her, the happy ending she was chasing, but knew she wouldn't have easily just from the format of his words. Yet, his husky voice didn't help either. Her ear tickled and tingle from his voice and her hatred for his voice became more complicated than that. Her insides spasmed in delight as she felt him press his hard on against her thighs, her hand, and eventually her lips with grinding hips that just made her legs spread wider for him. Her hips trying to rise and get him to want her pussy as much as she wanted his cock. His hand and his tongue didn't stop either. When he wasn't annoying her with his teases, he was making her melt with his squeezes and exploring tongue that made her shudder as she felt his hot breath.

His words earned a growl deep in her throat as he made it obvious that she wasn't going to get what she wanted just yet. He wanted to play with her a little more. He wanted an excuse to torture her and make her work for what she wanted. Fine...he wants to play, she fucking play.

Her tongue followed his finger out before she forced it back inside when his face directly on top of hers. She reluctantly pulled her hand from her clit, letting her soaked fingers lay there knowing she was gonna need both hands to deal with him. Her moans didn't fully stop with his knee still assaulting her slit, but she didn't stop grinding herself against it either. Her hand let go of her breast so he could greedily have both in his hands, making her groan as he pushed his weight down on them and made it harder for her to take breaths in. Yet, she glared up at him, refusing to let him think she wouldn't fight for what she wanted.

Shockingly, a smile grew on her face, one that matched his sadistic grin as he told her what he wanted. He wanted her to fight, fine, she'll fight. She didn't get the chance to answer him before his mouth kissed her. His open mouth was met with another, her lips eagerly accepting him even with the hate in her eyes. Her chest rose into his hands, encouraging him to squeeze and play with her till his heart's content, but her moment to shine was when his tongue forced its way into her mouth, "Mmm!" She moaned into him, her hands coming up to grab his back and claw at the back of his shirt, trying to cut him skin with her nails without success. Her tongue eagerly wrapped around his, showing off her skills by tasting every inch of it before she closed her lips to lock his tongue into her mouth. Her lips sucking on his tongue to show him what he was missing by not getting his cock involved but settled for another sensitive appendage too. Part of her wanted to bite his tongue off while she could, but it never happened, her tongue loved the taste of his too much. Eventually, she did let him go, but in her moment sucking on his tongue, she was able to figure something out.

He was periodically raising his hips to grind his cock into her to tease her pussy and she was going to use that against him. Just as he lifted his hips to grind his cock into her, she suddenly pushed her knee into his hip and used the lack of weight to twist them around. His upper body would be forced to twist with his lower half and effectively used his weight against him to make it so she was on top of him. She sat upon his stomach, her pussy pressed against him as she smiled down at him, "You want a fight, I'll give you a god damn fight."

Her hands went to his shirt collar and with strength that even surprised her, she tore open his shirt. It wasn't a clean tear, but she ruined its structure enough to take only three attempts before she had his chest exposed to her. Her nails latched onto his side just under his left pectoral and clawed hard into his side, leaving long red marks with the intent to hurt, but knew she couldn't cut through his skin. She mimicked his move before and brought the fingers she used to play with herself to his lips. Without asking for permission, she forced her fingers into his mouth and moaned upon feeling his warm mouth tasting her, "Here, you should get a taste of what you'll be eating soon if you don't give me something else to ride on," She grinned as her clawing hand ran her nail up his body until it fixed itself around his neck. She wasn't nearly as strong as him, but that didn't stop her from squeezing his neck to make it a little harder for him to breathe.

She didn't know where this was coming from. The power! The thrill! It was more fun then she thought it would be! This fucker was crazy, but he knew how to have fun!

Her hips rolled back, grinding her pussy against his cock. She made him feel how hot she was, how her muscles twitched for him to be inside her, her pussy lips spreading enough against him that every grind was making his length wetter with her arousal, "You're so fucking hard, you should just accept it. Be happy someone actually wants to fuck your crazy ass. I'm gonna fuck this cock whether you want it or not!" She grinned wildly, ready to rape him if she had to. How the tables turned. First she was begging him to rape her and now she was going to be the one to do it to him. He shouldn't of fucked around and now he was gonna find out what happens when you fuck with a sex crazed demon like her!

Her hips pulled back, lining him up to her entrance. She was slow to act, wanting to savor every inch of her cause she was sure once he was inside her, he couldn't resist her, and would give up the game just to keep fucking her warm cunt.

 

[Deranged]

The longer he spent interacting with this exciting new prey, the more she was impressing him and growing on him too. Nothing escaped his studious eyes and ears during his teasing sequence. Everything from the glares of malice and hatred, to the heated breaths and desperate little twitches and arcs that pushed her voluptuous body into his. Agony registered everything, and it fuelled him to further drag it out. He was one to take things into the deep waters whenever he felt like he was involved with an interesting enough person, and certainly, this new prey was interesting enough, even as things stood at the moment.

Despite the twinkle of hatred that sparked her eyes in the last images he caught of it before sinking his mouth into hers, he was met with a very willing, and even eager mouth. She matched the printing flicks of his tongue with assertive and incredibly skillful movements of hers. She exhibited such skill in the forceful kiss, that Agony could feel his heart thudding with pulses of excitement. Naturally, with his affinity for detail, he had developed into a very good and sensuous kisser if he wanted to be. Infact, he was good at anything in the carnal department if he really wanted to excite someone. He's had years of practice... Years of obsessively profiling what moves were suitable to turn a woman's body against her mind, in the fires of wanton lust and arousal.

Her moan reverberated through his suctioning mouth, and he couldn't help but let off a pleased rumble of his own. His hands grabbed ample portions of the warm breasts that were being relentlessly offered to him, and they began to knead just a little harder and quicker. A sweet shiver ran up his spine when he felt her nails rake through his back. Again, he let off another rumble of sedate pleasure, while his own thumbs went on to scrape her stiff nipples with their nails. The kiss was a steamy and tight affair, so much so that Agony knew that they wouldn't be able to maintain it for much longer.

When the kiss was broken off, and they both sucked in some much needed air, the imprint of the coaxing suction that her tongue had bestowed on his, still lingered fresh in his mind. He eyed her with a devious glint in his eyes, his pupils widening just a little bit more. She wasn't helping matters regarding the already powerful impulses roaring along with the rush of blood in his head, the ones instructing him to devour her hungrily. Every primal agent in his mind and body was instructing him to lap up every delicious drop of pleasure that the voluptuous slut pressing her hot and sweaty body against him could offer, like a thirsty sponge. Still though, he was getting a lot of stimulation from her inventiveness and activities too. He had never been a big fan of 'pillow princesses'. It was odd because he often bound his prey, however, even then, their constant and very honest struggles to survive his onslaught, are rendered as enthusiastic participation in his view.

He could swear that as he bore down on her beautiful and loathing face while they sucked in that much needed oxygen, that wheels were turning in those alluring and vibrant eyes of hers. He knew in that moment, that she was scheming up something. He didn't know what actions she had lined up, but as he teasingly drew back his hip with a sadistic smirk and flourish, his cock twitched more than once with a rush of intrigue and excitement. She had him guessing, and it was such interplay that got hid blood boiling.

She didn't keep him guessing for long. His hip rose, and so did her knees. He didn't quite catch up to the move on time, and by the time he figured out what was going on, he was on his back, and all the sweet and succulent, slippery mass of the wanton slut he had been toying with, was on top of him. The heat from her core was so penetrating and ambient, it felt like she would light him on fire.

The smile she shot down at him as she pressed her slick and molten core onto his belly, was almost as hot as her temperature in his opinion. Her words were music to his ears, and he had to restrain himself from clapping and praising her openly so soon. Of course, he had rewards lined up for her for her inventiveness and discretion, but he was weary of spoiling her so soon. He had a feeling that she had a lot more to offer if he pressed all the right spots, and pushed all the right buttons in the right sequence. He wasn't interested in letting out his animal side again so soon. There was an element of instability with the way he had dispatched of Hotshot and her crew, such reckless abandon too. He was not looking to pulverize such a promising prospect so soon and so fleetingly if he could help it. He figured that it would be better for him to remain generally in control. There was no telling what ideas might spring into his head if the rabid Ash were to take over for some reason or other

"You're one tasty slut you know? I like what I see and feel so far. Don't hold back on me now, what else you got?".

His voice was taunting and goading, yet, it still had that husky quality to reassure her that there was a reason why his hard-on was bouncing and rubbing the sweaty groove of her lower back. The little jolts of delicious friction that ensued after the top part of his cock rubbed upwards into the tempting arch of her back, it was almost enough to make him shiver.

His eyes washed over her with a sort of passive hunger after that. It was in this state that she laid her hands on his shirt and laid waste to it with admirable effort. Damn the restraint, he couldn't help shivering slightly, as his right palm spontaneously sent a stinging spank into the pillowy cushion of her ass. He sucked in a breath and eased off a short chuckle afterwards. His right palm settled firmly on her struck ass, making it jiggle as it shook it and dug in it's fingers at intervals. He felt the sharp scratches of her fingers on his left pectoral and side, and he screwed his face into a slight grimace of pleasure as his eyes shuttered close. His free hand joined the first one on her ass with a resounding snack. Her scratching was turning him on more than she knew, and it was becoming an active battle for him to stay in control, for the benefit of this delicious session, and possibly, his prey's longevity.

"Fucking slut... Gimme that sweet roughness."

His deep growl had barely registered, when he felt her heady finger snaking into his mouth. He let off a small grunt as her undiluted taste flooded his senses. Unlike her, he didn't lap at the finger aggressively, instead, he strained his neck till his head appeared to shiver, peeled open his eyes to give her a lustful leer, then sank his fingers into her ass. He drew in a deep breath, then clamped his teeth moderately on her finger, trapping it in his mouth while his tongue swirled leisurely over the tainted finger. He let off another low groan, then began to strum his fingers into the soft tissues of her ass. This went on during the time she spoke, then raked up a stinging path to clamp her free hand around his neck. Agony let his eyes roll to the back of his head briefly, letting her know that she was barking up the right tree. For a few seconds, he allowed himself choke, just for the fleeting euphoria he derived from it. His body was still in pretty good shape, evidenced by how he carried on his strumming on her ass, and even increased the pace too. His teeth continued to trap her fingers, while his tongue swirled delicately over the heady film of liquid coating the finger that he was trapping in his mouth.

This went on for a bit longer, before a hot squelch on his raging length called him back to reality. The heat and power of her quivering entrance almost undid him when she grinded it up and down his length. His already angry boner was eager to feel that warmth in it's entirety, not just a grinding kiss, it wanted to punch into the depths of that fleshy core, and stretch it till it gave it a tight squeeze

"Fuck .."

Agony exclaimed sedately, a dirty smile on his face as she verbally clobbered him, doing her best to show him that she was not ready to let him play roulette with the powerful wave of arousal shrouding them both. He let her finger slip out of his mouth in that moment, and something about the fire in her declaration and actions, managed to worsen his erection even more. His fingers sank even deeper, he was sure that his nails might've even breached her skin by now. If she felt it or it bothered her, it was clearly not strong enough to deter her from her intense ministrations

Slowly, she squelched back her hips, coating his straining cock with even more of her heady moisture. He let off a sedate chuckle, an icy fire in his eyes as he watched her line up her slit with the head of his frustrated cock. His fingers reduced their strumming, focusing more instead, on squeezing into the ample cushion of her ass. His eyes never left hers, even though he knew exactly what was coming next.

"AaaaAAHHH . FuuUUCk!"

There was a grunt that was quickly followed by a hiss of pleasure when she finally managed to envelope his head, then his shaft into her pulsing depths. She was everything he anticipated her to be and more. There was a flashing and intense quality to the heat in her slippery core, a powerful yet welcoming squeeze to the tightness of her walls too. Her pussy stamped a hot claim on his cock, and the latter was excited to do exactly the same to her pussy in return. Involuntarily, his hip thrusted upwards, but Agony caught himself mid impulse, and instead of a harsh pistoning slam, he eased the thrust into a slow and grinding press till his tip hit a very hot and determined knot in the extreme depths of her core.

"UuuuUUngh!"

He let off a sigh, as his wide palms slid upwards to cup her waist and hold her down. He made sure to bury every last millimeter of his throbbing rod into the fleshy vice that she enveloped it with. His pupils widened a little more, the specks of insanity returning to coat his silvery eyes. It wasn't nearly as defined as before though, he was still very much in control, just a little more cranky and excited.

"Oh... I love your energy. You're the kind of slut that gets me hot under the collar, and hard as fuck...*

He sank his fingers into her waist and clamped her down on his hard on with a loud hiss that was followed by a chuckle. His cock was pulsing so much in appreciation of her flexing and squeezing walls, and it wanted more. It wanted a LOT more.

"Well .. you're on top now. You've started the show already and I'm in for the ride "

From his position with his head on the floor, he strained his neck until his nose was buried in her cleavage, sniffing heavily, while his lips were angled towards her left nipple where his teeth clamped hard and suddenly for a full ten seconds. He kept her waist pinned to him, his cock twitching mightily in her core, and his neck shivering from the unnatural strain. He soon dropped his head back though, with a happy sigh, he could taste the salty tang of the mixture of her sweat and a little droplet of blood. He latched his dark orbs back into hers, his hands remaining steady, keeping her so pressed into his cock that his tip must be grazing areas it was not supposed to.

"So do it then... Ride me. Ride me, and show me how much of and how powerful, a slut you are."

"DO IT!"

A tinge of insanity coated his eyes, demeanor and tone on his last statement, and he used the rush of energy from that spark, to press her down even harder, until he could feel her pubic bone grinding painfully into his. He gritted his teeth and eased out an insane chuckle, his pupils fully blown now. He wanted nothing more than for her to bounce furiously on his cock, but he was too charmed with the image he had in his head at the moment. In that image, she was slowly hoisting her hips up with great effort, against the downward pressure of his pressing hands on her waist... Her walls were tightening to degrees that would probably raise worry in most people with the effort, and for every millimeter of sweet friction that she earned for them, for every sweat that slid out of her pores with her exertion, he eased the press on her waist.

Until they both had their mouths hanging open, with both their hips furiously thrusting against eachother in a haze of lust and abandon.

 

[TheSluttyBanshee]

What scared her the most about the stranger was he knew a woman's body well enough to know how to turn her body against her. He pushed all the right buttons, plucked the right strings, and played her like a instrument he's known all his life. It made the inner war between hate and lust inside her that much more complicated. His hands found her weaknesses so easily, he stole her breath from her lungs, and made her feel a growing addiction to the taste of his tongue. She never knew what horrors he committed with the very hands that wonderfully squeezed her breasts and teased her nipples. She doubted she was his first victim he was too skilled at home invasions and picking someone out that he knew wouldn't stand much of a chance against him, but that didn't stop her from enjoying his taste and touch all the same. She wished she was a stronger woman. She wished that she could fight harder against him. She wished she could be the kind of woman who'd rather die than let this man taste her tongue, but Olivia wasn't that kind of woman.

She was the kind of woman who use to spread her legs for any man who had drugs. She was the kind of woman who got off on men threatening her life unless she pleased them. She's been trying so hard to get clean and start fresh so she could be that better woman, but God had a dark sense of humor. He designed her to be attracted for the sick and depraved. He made her into the kind of woman who gets turned on when a man hits her or has the intention of taking her life. When she decided to get clean and start over, she thought the next time she'd lay with someone was gonna be a someone who was soft, tender, and loving. A true lover who adored her and her body and would treat her with care. Instead of rewarding her for her change of heart and kicking her addiction with the Prince Charming she longed for, God threw a demon through her window. A demon that no matter how much she hated him and fought him, she was eventually going to give into God's design.

Olivia knew he was smart enough to catch on that there was something going on in her mind, but luckily, she timed and pulled everything off so perfectly that she still pulled off her plan. His response to it made her ache as he called her a tasty slut. Those words alone made a groan fall from her lips as they made her tingle between her thighs. She couldn't stop the huff of air that was the beginnings of a laugh escape when he seemed to be having fun with this. The tone of his voice alone made her want to smack his face as hard as she could, but she held back for now. Slapping him was easy and frankly too tame for this. She saw how he shivered as she ripped his shirt open and how he rewarded her with a smack to her ass. A moan shout out of her and she sucked in air through her teeth with a almost growl like sound as she felt the sweet sensation of heat and tingling pains through her skin. "You call that spanking? I expected more from you. If you're gonna spank me, fucking do it like you mean it." She taunted him back as she watched how her nails digging into him affected him. So, he was like her? He enjoyed pain? Of course he did, but if he liked pain then it just made her job that much easier...

"I'll give you what I wanna give you, bitch." She retorted back almost instinctively. Her eyes glaring down at him with hatred, but admittedly was having fun with their back and forth. Damn it, why'd did this actually have to be fun? It was just making it worse...

That lustful leer of his sent a chill down her spine as she felt a very different method for having someone's fingers in their mouth. He trapped her finger between his teeth, refusing to let it go until he said so. He was still maintaining some power, but gave himself up for her desires. She didn't know why she liked it as much as she did, but it just turned her on more. He could take the power back from her at any time, so she might as well enjoy it. She's never been in this position before and was using her instincts to guide her, watching and studying how he reacted to her to see what worked for him. He seemed to enjoy her hand around his neck and even welcomed her to it, something she planned to abuse. In the meantime, she couldn't help moaning as his teeth threatened her while his tongue explored her finger so actively that part of her wondered if she should sit on his face before taking his cock or not, but she had already made up her mind about what she wanted first. It was a shame she wouldn't get to ride his tongue, but his cock would do just nicely.

Her pussy on his cock prompted him to let go of her finger and she felt a shiver down her spine at his swear. Her angry, lustful words seemed to do a lot to him too. The smile on his face, the way his cock somehow got even harder, the way his fingers dug into her flesh. He was fucking loving this and admittedly, she was too. She loved how he took her abuse after she took so much of his. It felt great to hurt someone, to use them like a sex toy, to take all the years of pain and hurt that's been done onto her, and give it to someone else. Fuck, she felt alive! She wanted to hurt him more, to make him cry out, to make him addicted to her pussy, and make him scream her name loud enough for all her neighbors to hear. An animal was tearing and clawing its way out from deep inside her gut and by God she was going to let it out.

"Ahhhh!" She cried out as her hips made her take his head, feeling how he stretched her wider than any man she's been with before. She didn't know if he had the power to make himself naturally big like this or if this was just something he was born with, but either way, she was gonna love bouncing on it. She took her hands off him for just a moment to reach back behind herself and planted her hands on thighs, leaning her body back so he could watch her pussy swallow inch after inch. The sound of his voice when she took him just made her want him that much more. She wanted to hear more of that voice making lewd sounds because of her. She wanted to hear him beg for her cunt, beg for her to fuck him, beg to cum in her...

Her hot insides squeezed him tighter than she's been in years. Her pussy tried to milk his cock by sucking him in deeper and deeper. Fuck, she couldn't believe she was actually doing this, but he was so big that she never felt so full. Her cunt adored him. Her walls discovering details of him that her eyes didn't catch, feeling him mold her insides in the shape of him. Her thighs shook around his hips as she felt him jerk up, but stopped himself from giving her a brutal thrust and instead gently fucked her back. A hot, loud moan left her lips as she felt him help her sheath all of him inside her, his tip pressing hard against her cervix as her pussy lips kissed his crotch. She savored feeling his head so deep inside, feeling that sweet pleasure as his head pressured her cervix to let him in her womb. "Oh god, fuck me..." She whispered in disbelief as if she hadn't expected his cock to feel as good as it did inside her.

Just as she went to lift her hips, his hands stopped her. His hands cupped her waist and held her down a little longer, she whined feeling his head making her cervix sore already by trying to invade her as her pussy throbbed and sucked on the entirely of his length. Her thighs started to shake as her muscles begged him to let her go and let her ride him. Her eyes met his and saw his pupils dilate. Her breath got caught in her throat as she was left to wonder what exactly was going on in that crazed head of his. She whined needlingly as his fingers dug into her waist, her pussy forced to feel his throbbing cock beating against her walls as her clit ached and demanded attention.

His words didn't bug her as much as they did before, leaving her to suffer as she could feel his heartbeat through his cock and how it taunted her squeezing walls. She needed to move, needed to feel his cock fuck her, needed to feel him invade her and violate her. Every second she wasn't fucking him was driving her insane. Her eyes looking down at him with need and silently begging him to let her fuck him. She let go of his knees and squirmed in his lap, rubbing her clit against him in hopes of taking care of some of her ache as her cervix teased his head. She didn't even realize she put herself in a position that made it easy for him to bury his face in her breast until she felt his teeth clamp down on her nipple. "Ahhhh!" She cried out, her pussy pressing harder into him as she squeezed him tighter than a virgin for the few seconds his teeth lit her sensitive nipple's nerves ablaze in pained pleasure.

Her eyes looked down with a confused look of worry and fear as he shouted at her to ride him. It wasn't to words themselves but the look in his eye. That crazed look at made her spine tingle as he kept his hands planted on her waist. This guy...he's fucking nuts! She didn't know what was going to happen from this point on, but she almost didn't care. Not when she had an angry cock beating against her walls needing her loving pussy to bounce on him. "You're fucking crazy!" She shouted, using her newfound strength to pull her hips up, freeing only a couple of inches of his cock before slamming back down on him again. The hot moan that shot out of her was followed by another and another as her needy cunt refused to stop at one bounce. Her hips fighting against his hands as she rose as high as she could and slammed herself back down on him. His tip slamming into her cervix each and every time.

"God damn it!" She shouted in frustration from being held back and she channeled that rage into her hands. "Fucking psycho!" She lurched forward and wrapped her hands around his neck. Her hands weren't as soft as they were the firs time. Her hands grabbed his throat with the full intention of cutting off most of his air, not enough to kill him, but enough to make breath harder for him. Her frustration helped her hips too, making him take her pussy with the sweat building up on her body making his grip a little easier to handle each time as he seemingly loosened his hold on her. Her hips took full advantage of it too. Her hips rising and falling faster and faster, but taking him in deep each and over time. His head hitting her cervix each time she bounced on him, her ass bouncing and grinding against his sack, and her breasts bouncing for his viewing pleasure...assuming he could still even see from the lack of breath she denied him.

"Ahhhh, fuck if you didn't have such a good cock, I'd kill you!" She growled at him as her hands eventually loosened their tight grip now that her hips were able to move almost as freely as she wanted. "Fucking freak of nature--ahhhhh!--but god damn it what a cock!" She grinned as she grew drunker off of her lust, her hips taking him. Her pussy making lewd wet claps every time their hips met that bounced off the walls back at her, making her hear how sopping wet she was and how much her pussy loved him. She's never been so fucking wet before, her pussy almost drowning his cock as she soaked his crotch and balls with her arousal with each bounce she made. "Fuck! You're a shitty rapist, but you make a great fucktoy for a slut like me!" Her tongue fell from her lips, her eyes rolling up in a lusty haze, her stomach tightening with a familiar sensation she hadn't felt in awhile and yet needed so badly. If this kept up, she was gonna cum on him!

 

[Deranged]

Everything felt so tight and assertive; the tight squeeze of her walls against his throbbing length, the steady then jagged rhythm of his pulse, his shaky breaths and her mewls. It all came at a pace that was 'hard and slow' for Agony. It was a pace that he could make work for him even in spite of his overwhelming desire to violate her insides with his frustrated cock. When that look of confusion flashed across her face, it sent a small shiver of pleasure sweeping through his spine. For people like his prey, it was all about the physical aspect of things; the sweet friction of skin rubbing against skin, flesh gliding over flesh through a slippery coating of sweat and lustful juices. It was all about the throbbing pound of pube against pube and hands slapping into flesh, however, that wasn't the case for him. Agony got off on more than just the physical aspect of any interactions he had with people, considering that he spent most parts of his life engaging with people only on a verbal and mental level, he was just as adept at finding ways to exploit people mentally - finding gratification in places that others might not even know exist.

Her confusion and shock did things for him, things that her squeezing, hot and wet walls were amplifying in no small measure. His pupils continued to dilate with specks of insanity, his heart thrumming powerfully with thudding pulses, on the verge of breaking into a thundering rhythm of fully blown insanity. He could almost see the questions popping into her head, as her furiously aroused and confused mind struggled to make sense of things. Agony found his fingers sinking into the tempting grove of her waist, digging further to keep her undulating hips firmly pressed into his. Her pheromones didn't seem to suffer any lull like her activities in the wake of her confusion, the chemical cocktail was wreaking havoc on his olfactory senses; causing his cock to twitch further in frustration, deepening the irony of his stubborn, restrictive grip on her waist. He knew better than to go in guns blazing, he knew what exactly he wanted from this delicious woman, and he knew how to get it too.

He watched that look of confusion morph into one of resolve and molten lust, two ingredients he was looking to pepper her tasty flesh with. He was almost too happy to nod sedately in agreement and approval to her calling him crazy. He knew that he was indeed crazy by conventional standards, and he was very happy with it. It no longer bothered him like it used to do in the past, now, it invigorated him, gave him something to stimulate his failing body and call it back to life and vitality. His eyes locked on to hers as he felt the vice squeeze it's way up his length; it was a slow and incredibly tight affair, and it did as much for his oversensitive rod as any hard pounding routine would. Every slippery ridge of her walls registered on his cock, to the point where he could feel her hammering pulse thudding in a rivalling rhythm to his own through the slippery clamp of her fleshy walls.

His abdomen flexed and he let off a sigh of contentment when she reached the apex of her forceful rise. He could literally smell the frustration on her when she could go no farther, and had to slam her succulent ass back down on his hip. The combination was working very well for him; her pussy flexing and sucking desperately with her exertion, her mind in dire need of him, of his lust, of his approval and animal passion... He didn't need to plunge hard and fast into her core like a jackhammer for him to get release, even if that was what his male instincts were urging him to do.

"Keep going..."

His voice was a low growl; the voice of a lion savoring a meal;. In this case, he was the lion, and the succulent wet depths of her walls wrapping his oversensitive cock was the sumptuous meal. Her moans were hot and dragged out, and as her entire body flexed and sweated with her beautiful effort, Agony felt every part of him lightning with gratification. He was enjoying everything, and he had no plans to stop it abruptly on any account. Her cervix was abusing his sensitive tip and head as a whole. Those extremely erogenous zones of the male anatomy could be lit to bursting point by the most delicate adept flick of flesh on flesh, to have a hot knot grinding and rubbing rigidly against them in a seal of liquid hot pressure... It was the stuff of wet dreams. It was no surprise to Agony when he heard the first of a stream of low and long grunts that flowed in tandem with her sensuous glides against his hard grip on her waist from his throat.

While all this went on, his eyes managed to study her face when they weren't rolling in sedate pleasure. From the furrowing on her brows, to the film of sweat building on it, he could feel her frustration building. Se was trying her hardest to channel it into every straining bounce on his cock, and as her muscles rippled to make her succulent curves quake, it turned him on more than she could fathom. That wasn't all though, he knew that there was only so much frustration that her mind could take before she snapped and decided upon a stronger course of action to get what she wanted. He wanted her to come for him like and animal, to fuck him with every fiber of her body and soul. Agony had noticed that his affinity for duality and complexity had made him develop a great enjoyment for sexual partners who are extremely invested in the act both in body and mind. His interpretation for the investment would make most people run for the exit though

"Getting antsy?"

He asked with a mocking grin just before she lurched forward and wrapped his hands around his throat to ensure that he wasn't coming up with anymore wisecracks anytime soon. Her latest grip was raw and passionate; an 'amazon's' grip. He felt his cock twitching and actually expanding slightly in the imprisoning wedge of her cunt. His heart throbbed a little quicker now, as his oxygen supply got stemmed noticeably. His eyes watered as they latched on to hers, an approving but sick grin on his face, yet his hands not relinquishing his gradually loosening grip. Her bouncing pace increased with every malicious rise of her hips, and every strumming flex of her walls against his throbbing and slightly inflated cock.

An ice cold injection of thrill and euphoria circulated his jamming heart as his watering eyes sailed over her bouncing form on his cock. The first fuse of pleasure got lit in his balls in that moment; a small spark of tingles sweeping through his scrotum and causing his abdomen to tighten and flex alternatingly. Her pace increased, and so did the film of sweat coating them both as the prickly heat radiating off their frames mixed into one heady cloud of lust and abandon. They were surely coming close to painting the full picture that he had in his head when his hands clamped on her waist. His eyes, although watering, stubbornly remained open to catch every sensuous curve and arch of her spine, along with the jiggles of her breasts and curves. He wouldn't miss it for the world at this point.

Gradually, the angry twitching and straining returned to his neck as his balls slowly began to tighten in rhythm with his clenching abdominal muscles. Her jiggling breasts called to him, he watched several beads of sweat roll down the bouncing globes, and it took everything in him not to flip her over and paw furiously at the teasing globes. His hands slowly loosened to the point where she was freely bouncing on his cock as she pleased, her hands were also loose by then, and the wet sounds of their union were making his heart lurch almost painfully.

"Shit! You're lucky you're a good fuck. You don't know how correct that statement is though..."

He began his first words since his first heaving breaths after her hands left his neck. One hand slid off her sweaty back, finding the film of sweat a good ally. The fingers of that hand caught on to the tips of her long hair and enmeshed themselves in them. His eyes struggled to maintain their look of being on the verge of extreme madness. She was arousing him so much that more blood was being forced away from his powerful brain; it was the dread of losing control to Ash, and what Ash would most likely do to such a sumptuous woman in a matter of seconds, that was keeping him in check. His free hand slid down to grab her ass, squeezing a little more desperately now, ensuring to dig it's nails into the jiggling mounds.

"You may think you want to see me on my worst behavior but... Trust me, you would regret every single thing you've done and said to that effect after only a minute of experiencing it."
.
A dark chuckle rolled off his throat after speaking. Pulling hard and suddenly on the locks enmeshed on his right hand, he yanked her head back with almost unnatural force; letting off a deep and guttural groan of approval as her breasts swung upwards, a consequence of her body following her head in getting yanked back so suddenly and forcefully. His left hand dug into her ass, and he planted his feet on the floor quickly, setting up a base for the powerful thrust that followed
.
"Fucking hell!"

He growled as he threw his head back in ecstasy; his balls tightened some more, and the little sparks of tingles were now a crackling flame that twisted his balls in his scrotum, and made his abdomen clench. He felt himself pulse in her pussy, and her wetness gave him the double whammy of easing the thrust of his stretching cock in her pussy, while also increasing his pleasure. He felt her entire frame get bounced and jabbed upwards with his hip, and his eyes opened just in time to catch her breasts juggling after it's upward swing. His hip dropped back to the floor, and his hands pulled yet again on her hair. His eyes were edging more on the insane side once again, as his tone gained a dark depth.

"Is this it then?! This what you want you fucking slut? For me to bounce you up like a freaking doll as I plunge inside you?"

"HUH?!"

He seemed to be skirting the very edge now, losing more of his artistic side and gaining more primal and dangerous ideas in return. He was aware of this though, and decided that another firm and rapid push was in order. He heaved up once again, squeezing into her ass and pulling her hair simultaneously. He followed the latest powerful push with three more in increasingly quick succession; a dark part of his mind musing about how closely accurate she was to an actual cowgirl with the way he was almost throwing her off him with every wenching thrust. The crackling flame in his balls had spread to his cock already. He knew that it was probably the insane tightness of her walls against his slightly inflated cock that was stopping him from blasting a torrent of hot sperm inside her.

His eyes soon squeezed close, a single vein pulsing angrily on his left temple as the familiar contractions rocked him. The pulses spread to every part of him, and he couldn't help his fall into autopilot. He had to cum, and to do that, he had to find a way to force the hot torrent of sperm through the vice clamp of her flexing walls. In his state of pure instinct, his mind and body arrived at one unilateral decision: fuck her...
.
HARD!

An animal grunt escaped him as his eyes shot open, his mouth hanging open too. His entire body strained, causing more of the sweat coating his skin to stream down. He felt a savage rush of power as adrenaline and androgen colluded to fuel a barrage of forceful thrusts that sent his hips, cock, and the entire mass of the slutty woman on him upwards every time. His hands tightened on their respective holds; they were arguably the only things keeping her from getting launched off his body and unseated. Then again, there was the deliciously tight seal of her pussy on his cock that he was desperate to force his semen into. His mind began to spin, taking a backseat as he could only watch her body arch, bounce and jiggle, while his hip took advantage of her generous lubricative juices to plunge hard and fast into her depths.

Agony was safe, this was safe for them both. Although his mind was taking a passive role, he was certain that there would be no surprises. His eyes roamed over her bouncing form as his lungs burned fiercely with desire and exertion, several guttural grunts and unintelligible words streaming out of his open mouth. He soon realized that he was certain about one more thing: he would definitely cum soon, and he was looking forward to painting this delicious woman's insides... Staking his claim on her, marking her as his...

So he held on as hard and as tight as he could manage, driving himself so deep that he was sure that his tip would be flattening against her cervix with every thrust, if it didn't punch right through it very soon. Perhaps, there was yet another unexpected stretch on the cards? Or maybe it would be the width this time... What was left of his foggy mind was left to wonder and relish the thoughts; his cum inching ever so slightly upwards towards his slit that was squeezed shut under the incredibly high pressure of her walls.

 

[TheSluttyBanshee]

Every slow, deep thrust was a wonderful nightmare. Oliva was forced to feel every inch, every detail of his cock as she rode the man who invaded her home. God, what kind of woman was she? Getting turned on by pain, lusting after the man who was probably gonna end up killing her after they had their fun. She hated how much she loved his cock. She hated how much her pussy loved his cock. Each slow thrust was wonderful, but she needed more. Her pussy loved it rough. She wanted to be sore, wanted to feel him hours after he was gone, assuming she'd still be alive by the dawn. What kind of woman wanted that from a crazed freak like him? Granted, had he been a normal guy she just ran into one day by accident, she'd think he was a very attractive man. However, when she saw that same handsome face with those crazed dilated pupils of insanity, it just made her skin crawl instead. Yet, she was riding his cock like a hungry slut regardless of how creeped out she was by him. Olivia didn't understand why she had to be built this way. Why god thought it'd be funny to give her a body and mind that got off and getting assaulted by psycho creeps? Whatever the reason may be, her cunt was tighter than a virgin for him, sucking and milking his cock like she was desperate for the cum building up in his balls.

His fingers digging harder into her waist made her bite her bottom lip as the ache in her hips just made her squeeze him. She gasped and shuddered as she could feel him twitch against her walls. The son of a bitch was getting off on her less than fantastic feelings about the situation. Her shock, confusion, and pure animalistic lust for dick no matter who it was attached to was fucking fun for him. It The subtle details of his body flexing and the look on his face was all the proof she needed as he intentionally kept pressure on her hips to make her ride him harder with a tighter grip on his cock. The problem was she was fucking loving it too. His grip forcing her to fuck him harder with a tighter cunt just made her walls more sensitive and excited to be taking a thick cock like his. Even his sounds turned her on. The grunts, groans, and moans that escaped him acted like a aphrodisiac. Each sound made her hotter and hungrier, desperate to hear more sounds of pleasure with a masculine tone that fed into her lust. One of her favorite acts with a partner was hearing how much they loved her cunt. She craved them to be as addicted to her as she was to them since it was the only means of power she had as a slut with a deep love for cock. A fact that only added to her deep frustrations and made her feel even less guilty for what her hands would do to him.

His comment was her breaking point, her hands wrapped around his throat with more strength than she ever knew she had, but the sick bastard seemed to love that too. Her moans spiked as she could feel his cock twitch and getting bigger inside her, stretching her already stretched out cunt even further. Her pussy ached as his cock hit every little sensitive nerve, but whatever enjoyment she got out of strangling him was taken from her as a sadistic grin made her blood run cold. His hands gave into what she wanted, allowing her to move more freely and her hips took full advantage of it. Her hips forced her pussy to take him again and again, faster than before, but still just as deep. There was a deep primal need in her that needed to take every inch of him even when her poor cervix was acting for mercy, her hips refused to stop slamming his thick head into it.

Her moans carried through her entire apartment, likely disturbing her neighbors through the cheap thin walls. Even the cheap thin floor beneath them probably gave away to her downstairs neighbor that she was having the ride of her life. None of them would know how how sick it truly was. They might of heard the commotion of her fighting with someone, but all instincts of her danger would be ignored just from the pure primal sounds of her taking all her anger and frustration out on the cock of the man who tried to kill her. Her hands wrapped tightly around his throat for so long that for a second, Olivia thought she would never let go until his body was limb and lifeless, but eventually, she did let go. For what reason, she wasn't truly sure. She might of gotten away with it if she just kept her hands on his neck and slowly drained his life away, but even now, Olivia wasn't even thinking about her survival despite how sinister the man beneath her was. She was only thinking about the cock she was aggressively riding as her desperate need to cum was catching up with her.

She could barely focus on what he was saying as she felt his hands take advantage of the thin film of sweat on her body. Her voice letting out a eager sound as she felt his fingers find the end of her hair and entangled his fingers within her long brown locks. There was something else in his eyes. It looked like he was forcing something in control and frankly, Olivia was scared to think about what he was trying to contain. The man she rode was bad enough, but if there was something even darker lurking inside this already insane man, she wasn't sure if she wanted to be on his dick when it came out. Yet, there was a deeply twisted curious part of her that wondered what the dark beast he kept chained in his basement could do to her. This man alone was a better fuck than most of the men she's slept with purely for the danger and excitement of never knowing what he was going to do next. So, naturally if there was a even more extreme side of him, the cock hungry slut she's been starving was going to curious about him.

A chill ran down her spine at his warning. Part of her wanted to say he was bluffing, but she knew for a fact this man was serious and she believed him. After this was over, she didn't know what he was going to do with her. A naïve side of her hoped a good fuck was all he needed to decide that she was worth keeping alive, but she knew damn well that wasn't the case. No, this man was going to subject her to horrors that she's never experienced before. He wasn't like her drug dealers or the gang members she's fucked that ended up beating her or assaulting her. He was so much worse than that. His powers alone were terrifying, but she could see it in his eyes that he was a creative too. Creative psychos like him were more terrifying than anything else in this world and the fear in her eyes showed she knew that simple fact, but luckily, her lust knew how to have fun even in the face of death itself.

"Well then, I better enjoy every--ahhhhh--second of this," She moaned with a growing grin on her face despite the fear in her eyes, "If this the last time I'm gonna fuck something, I better make the most of it and thank god that it's a big fucking cock too!"

His dark chuckle was the only other warning she'd have before her head was suddenly pulled back with so much force that her neck ached painfully enough to elicit a pained moan. Her still sore scalp burned and ached so badly that tears started to well up in her eyes. Her back arched so wide that she almost though her spine would snap as she presented her bouncing breasts to him. Her hips refused to stop fucking him even with the pain shooting through her body. The wet claps of her cunt being used as her pussy soaked him with freely flowing nectar bounced off the walls along with her pained cries. His left hand grabbing her ass made her hips roll back into his hand, her flesh begging him to greedily take as much flesh as his hand could hold as he surprised her with his feet suddenly being planted firmly on the floor. She wouldn't have time to figure out what he was doing before he forced up a hard thrust that made her give him the loudest moan she's made yet.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" She cried out as his head slammed so hard against her cervix she almost came on him right then and there. Her stomach growing tighter and burned hotter with an oncoming orgasm. With just that single thrust alone, she knew she wouldn't stand a chance against him. Her hips didn't even have to bounce anymore, his hips taking her with such force and depth that she just wanted to keep her cunt buried around his base and feel a real man fuck her. Toys were fun and all, but there was nothing like feeling a man fuck her. Strong hips burying a thick cock, making her take him even after she screams "no" and "stop" wasn't anything a toy could do to her. And now, she was nothing but a toy for him.

"God yes!" She cried out in reply to him, her eyes rolling up and crossing with each hard thrust, "Turn me into your fucking fleshlight! I'm just a fucking sex toy built to milk your cock! Fuck me! Fuck--ahhhhh--your fleshlight!"

A new side of her emerged. The side of her that loved to be used and abused by a man. To be used and raped till her pussy was so stuffed full of cum that it would be a miracle if she wasn't impregnated by the end of the night. Luckily, she didn't think it was possible for her to get pregnant at this rate. Between the drugs and abuse her womb got, she might of been made infertile as far as she knew, but the thought of this crazed man filling her with so much cum that the risk of her having his psycho kid was too erotic to not enjoy on a primal level. Her ass jiggled in his hand as he forced thrusts up into her so strong that she thought he'd be the first man to break through her cervix. Her pussy made the deepest, wettest sounds she's ever heard it make before as his hands did a fantastic job making sure this cowgirl wasn't bucked off her mustang with each powerful bounce.

"Yes! Yes! God, fuck me! Fuck!" She cried out as she saw stars, her mind losing all sense of logic and control as his cock fucked her stupid. Her eyes crossed and her voice broke as he unleashed a torrent of hard, deep, and fast thrusts into her. Her moans reaching a peak in sound she never knew she could reach. Her moans clawing at her throat as they left her as she struggled to even breathe. Her stomach grew so painfully tight and hot and quickly she could feel her body pouring something down her stomach and centered right in her pussy. Her clit and cunt were so overwhelmed with pleasure that she couldn't hold back for a second longer.

"Ahhh-ahhhh! I-I'm cumming! Cu-ahhhhhh!" Her body stiffened and her cunt tightened like a vice around him. Her walls spasming and shaking with the rest of her body as she showered him with the most explosive orgasm she's ever given a man. Her moans almost sounded like pained cries so high pitched that her voice cracked. Her cunt soaked every inch of his length and with each thrust he still made in her, her cum poured out of her to ensure his balls got their share of her sweet honey. She shook so hard that her body struggled to stop even after she had let out all of her love. With a cock still brutalizing her cunt after such an intense orgasm, she was left overstimulated and sensitive, her body forced to feel like she was still cumming even after she was finished.

"Cum! Cum! Cum in me! Fill me! Fuck my pussy full of your fucking cum!" The only thing left on her mind was the deep need for a cock to fill her pussy full of warm, thick seed. The deep primal need to be breed by a man so crazy that he officially became the best fuck she's ever had, but if she was going to die, she wanted the last thing he'd do to her was breed her. "Fuck! If you're gonna kill me anyway, might as well breed the fuck out of me! Make me your cumdumpster! When I die, I want every inch, every hole covered in your cum!"

 

[Deranged]

Each succeeding slam of his hip up against hers was a numbing yet incredibly stimulating drug. The harder he thrusted, the more his engorged cock twitched inside the slimy prison of her vice-like walls. The vein on his temple continued to pulse with an almost angry rhythm as the hungrily sucking sensations of her clenching walls registered on his tingling and now incredibly sensitive head and tip. Agony found his breaths getting shallow, forcing him to intersperse them with two or three consecutive animalistic pants to keep up with his continually increasing oxygen demand. Keeping up such a crushing pace was no picnic for the body afterall; granted, his was a body that was capable of very inhuman feats.

"Fucking... Hell!... "

The lubricating effect of her sweaty skin and the heady musk that it brought with it was mesmerizing. It helped to further invigorate him when the effects of his exertions began to register. There was something so exciting about how slick and supple her warm flesh felt beneath his agitated hands. It sent a primal thrill up his spine that further instructed more jarring and hammering thrusts into her wanton flesh... Into the thrilling vacuum of her walls. It was not only the lubricating experience that her skin thrilled his hands with; the jiggling and bouncing of her ample flesh were also as thrilling to his eyes as they were to his hands. More urgent jolts began to arise from his twisting scrotum; sending even more demanding impulses of ejaculation to his brain. He just had to do it, he had to cum inside her depths!

Luck played a fun game in the succeeding moments as far as Agony was concerned; when yet another wave of hot and quivering contractions rocked his abdomen and spine in the wake of his boiling and pressurized cum, he thew his head back with glazing but urgent eyes at the exact same time that his wanton prey did the same to fix him with a stupefied gaze of lust and satisfaction. Her words rolled into his ears like the encouraging war-cries of a regiment in battle, through the rushing and thundering wave of blood that was roaring in his head. Fleshlight... Yes, that sounded just about right to his primal and lust-drunk mind. She was his fleshlight, his toy, a tool of utter pleasure and hedonistic lust that was completely at his disposal. His to plough, thrust and fuck until both their insides twist in the most painfully sweet contractions of orgasmic delight...

...and he sure as hell was motivated enough to take her up on her offer...

"Fuck yeah I will! I'm gonna bang your brains out and flood you with my cum like you're my fucking fleshlight!"

The statement was more of a guttural roar than anything else. The primal declaration of authority, dominance and ownership of a lion... His eyes fixed into hers as he gripped her ample hips and her locks a little harder; heat in his eyes and passion in his breaths. Screwing his face with some feeling, he jammed himself into her velvety depths in a jarring sequence that left his mouth partly open. That fading part of his rational consciousness mused that he should be drooling if he wasn't grating his teeth with the effort of his jackhammering thrusts. Each obscene collision sent thrilling wet smacks of flesh slapping into flesh, and lit nerves rubbing into eachother... The perfect background for a session of pure and unbridled lust.

"Taking... Every once of pleasure... I'll fucking OWN you!..."

Again, his tone was a guttural roar that reverberated on his chest and further thrilled his lit nerves with tantalizing vibrations. His eyes were screwing on and off, taking snapshots of her rattling frame as she bounced helplessly on his cock. His breaths went from shallow with occasional pants, to full on primal grunts and pants. The jiggling of her ass against his hand and thighs felt almost as marvelous as the wet seal of her hot pussy, but there was one part of the whole experience that he had been involuntarily ignoring until now, and it came registering with malice.

"UuuUNGHh! ShiiIIIT!"

His overstimulated head and tip appeared to have been shoved to the background by his brain before; perhaps, in an effort to help him maintain a modicum of sanity and composure. Something happened though; a flex of of her walls, twitch of her cervix even... He wouldn't know for sure. What he knew though, was that the desperately stimulating sensations of his abused cockhead rubbing and flattening against her cervix, was back and registering freely on his mind. Infact, the sensations were so overpowering, that a new and more urgent single-minded impulse to pound his cum urgently into her wanton flesh was initiated in his stupefied brain.

Wordlessly, he let his mouth hang open as stream after stream of gibberish and guttural vocalizations accompanied urgent and absolutely brutal thrusts that robbed him of his vision more often than not.The roaring wave of blood in his head still failed to block off the piercing pitch of her moans.The seemingly increasing pitch in turn, further fuelled his dominating impulse, encapsulating him in a cycle of desperate thrusts that worked towards his own explosion of cum that kept building and mounting against the unyielding pressure of her cunt. At some point, he could swear that he felt a flash of panic even, mixing with the frustration and urgency that boiled in his scrotum, cock, and abdomen. He had to cum! Needed to, and the longer he spent with that electric and liquid need sloshing and squeezing inside him, the more demanding and savage his thrusts became.

The last straw was soon to come when a particularly slicing moan breached the fog of his primal frustrations and need. She was cumming... She was cumming? It excited him, fuelled him and made him swell with masculine pride and satisfaction. He had made her cum, given her the ultimate satisfaction, her reward for being such an incredible cocksleeve. A pouring wave of smug satisfaction rolled down his spine and killed the apprehension and frustration rising from his inflated cock's inability to squeeze his boiling cum into her depths through her velvety vice. This lasted for about a minute, his eyes peeling open in a smug and possessive cloud... Watching her bounce furiously still, as a dirty grin coated his lips.The overwhelming impulse to hammer his cum into her was still there and obviously still in effect; however, it was obviously in the backseat at the moment. For now, it was all about her furiously jiggling and bouncing breasts, her high-pitched and squeals of pleasure, her twisting walls and churning abdominal muscles as she convulsed against his enduring onslaught.

"That's damn right!..."

He growled in a dragged out and assertive tone, enjoying the untold pleasures that she was radiating in her orgasmic state. In those moments, his own building frustrations and explosive need were shoved to the background... Until it suddenly hit him... Jealousy. Why?... Why was she enjoying such tantalizing bliss when he was locked in a cycle of need and frustration, BY HER VICE WALLS?!

"Hell..."

It was a guttural whisper, his abdomen squeezing tight along with his face as his patronizing smile vanished and morphed into a frown, then a glare. Yet again, his perplexing ability to increase an already incredibly high amount of force and exertion kicked in. His hands tightened their grips even more on their respective holds. Probably surpassing regular human limits this time; his right palm could feel every ridge of her hips through the succulent padding of her furiously jiggling ass. His jaw locked as fire washed over his silvery eyes that set determinedly on hers. No! She would not have this orgasmic bliss alone, it was his turn, and he was willing to go the extra mile to get it!

SMAAACK!

It was almost no surprise for Agony to feel his cock inflating yet again, it didn't increase by much, but it surely stretched her to her utmost limits. He could tell. The same way he could tell that his cock shot forwards yet again, like a harpoon as it stretched forward in a desperate and powerful jab to match the absolutely crushing thrust that he delivered next. The resulting smack sounded like a mini explosion of obscene wetness, flesh, and bone. He could feel a shower of her juices get blown against his face and every other part of him by the explosion of compressed air resulting from the shockwaves of the impact. More than a few cool droplets flew into his open mouth and flaring nostrils... Her taste and scent were heavenly... So... Stimulating and rewarding. They were the final trigger for him.

"Here, weee.... GOOOooo-uuUUH!"

The contractions hit everywhere at once with such blinding intensity that he lost his sight and almost his senses in the process. He had no idea what he said, what she said and what she did in that moment as his eyes squeezed shut, but he had more than a clear picture of every sweet contraction from both of them. Every pulse registered with his oversensitive nerves, every twitch and every deliciously tight glide. Speaking of which, his stretching cock soon hit a wall, a twitching and incredibly hot ring of muscle. Somehow, Agony knew that the tireless guard would fail in her duties this time, she would not be able to protect his prey's greedy womb from his invading cock... and so it happened.

"Fuuucking TIGHT!"

Agony heard himself bark. The seal that the ring of muscle bestowed on his stubborn head was probably thrice as tight, and as bewitching too. Faint echoes of the nerd in Agony yelled that there was no way this should be anatomically possible, it was against the fundamental reproductive design of the human race! Yet, it was happening, it was happening because Agony was probably no human anymore... He was just Agony.

"Special delivery, BITCH!"

The last cuss came out with a popping force, one that mirrored the motions of his cock when his head finally stretched the ring open, relieving the tireless guard of her charge, and barreling right into the honeypot behind her. Her womb. Something told Agony that his stretching cock wouldn't settle for less, wouldn't stop until it hit the muscular wall of her upper womb, and it didn't. The connection of his cock head against the wall of it's strangely entrancing and absolutely unorthodox new home was electric, it triggered the first spurt of thick, hot overdue cum. It kept spurting in a long stream, Agony pulled his prey by the hair, burying her face into his chest in a powerful and convulsing lock in the process. His other hand too locked her hips in place, right on top of his, in prime position for him to breed her.

Time seemed to seize as the first spurt kept pumping for a good ten seconds. When it ended, it was signalled by a great jerk from Agony and a primal grunt of satisfaction, his nose pressed into her hair as the second spurt began. The scent on it was a queer; the remnants of her freshness, soap, oils, and sweat of course. The olfactory cocktail was more than a welcome background for the second shorter stream of cum. Agony remained in this state by the fifth contraction and spurt, by then, the stream was more or less a dribble, and he could clearly feel the river that he had pumped inside her womb sloshing deliciously around his ultrasensitive cock. The spurt died a naturally slow death, and Agony was left to draw a sequence of calming breaths in utter satisfaction for a full minute. Without raising his head or the soft and heaving frame of his hot prey on his own, he whispered in a much more relaxed and almost civil tone, although it was still deep and husky. He also reduced the punishing grip on her hair and hips to possessive and comforting levels.

"You're mine now, bitch... Mine now... "

He chuckled ominously into her hair then let his hands play with the areas that they held to keep her on him during his pumping thrusts. Surely, this prey was worth keeping for another day... Surely.

 

[TheSluttyBanshee]

The harder he grabbed her hips and the harder he pulled her hair the more she wanted him. All her hatred, frustration, and anger was fucked out of her as Olivia was rendered to nothing more than a toy for a psycho to dump his load into. All she could think about was the cock that ravaged her slick insides harder and wilder than any man she's had before. Olivia didn't even know it was possible for her to be this turned on and satisfied with a man's performance and of course it had to be the craziest motherfucker in the city that made her cum harder than she's ever felt before and filled her with a desperate need to feel him breed her cunt till she full of his sticky load. This crazy son of a bitch did more to her than any gun, knife, or fist ever did just from the way he grabbed her and spoke to her. He wanted her to be scared and confused while he fucked her and god damn it, he did it. Yet, Olivia couldn't get over how his tactics made the best sex she'd ever have. He might be the craziest motherfucker alive, but god damn it, he could fuck!

With each thrust, he prolonged her orgasm longer and abused her oversensitive cunt with a cock that refused to show her an ounce of mercy. Her legs shook hard as his sent tremors through her muscles with each eager thrust that set every single nerve in her body on fire. His guttural roar sounded more like a beast than man and if anyone saw his back after she was done with him, they'd think he fought a beast himself. Long red nail marks digging deep into his back to leave her mark on him, so even if he stole her life after he was done using her body she'll still be there lingering in his skin long after she was cold in the ground. She grit her teeth in between her moans as she desperately tried to fill her lungs with any ounce of air she could snag, but her burning lungs were proof that she never grabbed enough air before he forced another moan out of her. Her eyes screwed shut as his aggressive thrusts made her cunt so overwhelmed that he nearly made her cum a second time just from him trying to use his toy to get to his peak.

However, his second guttural roar forced her to look up at the man that bred her like a wild beast. Her pounding heart felt a pang of fear again. Own her? She prayed to whatever cruel god looked over her that this was just his dirty talk, but something in his voice sounded so much more real and serious. His animalistic grunts and sounds demanded her submission as his body overwhelmed hers with domination in its purest form. He WAS owning her, but she could only hope that the desire to keep her as his plaything wouldn't last much longer. Olivia wasn't one that was willing to die easily and even hoped her killer would grow enough of a soft spot for her to decide she was worth keeping alive as a thanks for the sex and he on his way, but now she was scared she made things too exciting for him. She didn't know which was worse, being killed or being owned by this thing. She just wanted him to dump his load in her and be on his way, so she hopefully wouldn't ever see him again after she moved apartments, but now it was looking like he was far from done with her. Her fear of death became so much more complicated in that moment. She didn't want to die, but if this thing was going to keep her around instead of just walking out of her life or getting it over with now, maybe death would of been the sweeter option...

It was so hard to think clearly, his hammering driving most of her intelligent thought away and it was becoming increasingly dangerous for her to be this drunkenly stupid. She already came on him and something in him changed. She watched as a sickening grin of pride grew on his face. His eyes looked down at her with the smugness that made her want to punch him again and a possessive need that sent a chill down her spine. Her cum on his cock seemed to awaken a even more primal beast in him, one that she couldn't help adoring just as much as she hated it. Each thrust made her dripping cunt leak her cum and soak his balls in her shameful pleasure and slathered her wet pussy lips in even more lustful fluids. Her flesh having no choice by to bounce and bend to his will as he abused her weaknesses to make her submit to him and beg for his cum no matter how much fear and hatred she had for the man brutally breeding her pussy. Her cervix ached with each ramming thrust of his cock trying to force her barrier open and just made her womb crave him that much more. Her breasts bounced against her chest hard enough to ensure her breaths were short and nearly suffocated her as she could feel her bubbly ass bouncing on his balls and thighs. Her insides burning and aching with the lewd need to feel his cock empty his balls in her and feel his fucked up seed stick to her as a reminder of her sins and how much of a slut she turned into for a man who had intentions of making her life a living hell again.

Her fear would grow as she saw the grin on his face turn into a frown and suddenly, she missed that damn grin of his. His eyes sharpened into a glare and Olivia felt every hair on the back of her neck raise. She didn't understand what upset him so suddenly, but she wouldn't get the chance to understand as she let out a pained cry as his hands held her hair so tight that her aching scalp hurt so badly that tears welled up in her eyes and her pleasured cries grew into screams. His other hand held onto her hip so hard that she could feel his hand against her bones as if she didn't have any muscle at all to protect her hip bones from his grip. His fingers sank so deep into her ass that she thought he was going to tear her flesh right off and her cunt just squeezed him tighter to thank him for it.

Her eyes widened as she felt her walls stretch even wider as his cock grew even more, it wasn't a lot, but it was enough to stretch her cunt to its limits and felt like she was taking a horse than a man. "Wait, wait, wait!" She cried out as she thought he was going to tear her, but thankfully his cock stopped before her muscles could tear around him. Any and all attempts to stop him from pushing her any harder were instantly shut down as he forced her to take him with thrust so hard that every one of her bones felt it as she felt an explosion of air between them that sent her arousal flying. Olivia cried out a cry so loud that it tore at the walls of her throat as droplets of her fell on her stomach and breasts. Her voice shook and shivered as her eyes were frozen in a wide and unbelieving look. The whole apartment building probably heard her with a cry like that, but it was far from her last tonight.

Her stomach was tight and burning as her clit ached so painfully that she knew she was going to cum again. The bouts of pain he forced onto her was just enough to starve her oversensitive cunt from cumming again quickly, but what happened next would be her undoing. She could feel him stretching inside her and her moans shook with a voice full of pleasured panic as she feared what it was going to do to her. She was practically hyperventilating the second his head found her cervix again and as if she knew what was coming next, she tried to beg for a moment to prepare. "Wait, wait, wait! Please! Just--ahhhhhh!" She cried out as his head forced her barrier open. The abuse he put it through making it weak as his cock demanded entrance to her womb.

No, no, no! This shouldn't be possible! It can't be! He--god, he was defying every law of her body for his own sick pleasure and god damn it, she LOVED it! She couldn't understand how her ring could open and squeeze his cock and give him that impossible tightness no man should be allowed to feel. "Oh my god! Oh my god!" She screamed out as her eyes rolled back, her womb feeling a euphoria no woman had ever gotten to feel before as she felt a man invade her to directly give her womb exactly what it wanted. The sheer pain of him forcing her cervix open was too much! Feeling him fucking her womb! It was too much! She couldn't hold it back anymore!

Her walls sucking on his length spasmed with a familiar sensation to him, but her voice was too busy crying out to warn him of what was coming. Just as she felt her stomach release the pressure that built up inside her, she heard the bastard's words and knew right then and there...they were cumming together! "Yes! Yes! Fuck! Yes! God damn it! Cum in me! Oh god, yes! Give me your cum!" She cried out in lust so intense and deep that her sore voice cracked at the pure pleasure of feeling his cock give her that first rope of cum directly into her womb. Her pussy cumming on him so hard her hips jerked into him, her pussy fucking itself against him with walls milking his cock for every drop of cum in his balls. Her mind was in such a haze that she went numb and didn't even feel the pain of him using her hair to force her face into his chest. She didn't even understand what her face was buried in at first, but somehow her mind pieced together that his chest was against her as her lips couldn't resist kissing and biting into his skin as he forced her hips still to make her take every rope of cum and breed her more effectively than any human man ever could. If anyone could knock her up...it was going to be this man and right now, the feeling of his hot sticky cum forcing her womb to stretch and hold all of it almost made her excited about it.

Her eyes rolled up till they nearly went into the back of her head as she savored every contraction that flooded her womb. His cock making a makeshift knot by plugging her cervix with his head and forcing her to swallow and take every rope of cum right into the heart of her reproduction system. Her legs shook violently around him with tremors so intense that she thought she might start seizing and her head spinning and aching didn't help either, but her hands almost lovingly clung onto him as a result of it. The deep satisfaction she never felt before made her hatred and fear of him numb and her body was thanking him for the attention and experiences no other man could possibly give her. If she was going to be kept alive, he ruined her. No one was going to be able to do to her what he did to her. Any other man she tried to sleep with will feel like nothing compared to him. Sex will never be the same unless it was his cock she was bouncing on and that terrified her more than any threat or look he's given her. She was gonna want him and dream of him even if he left her. She'd never be able to cum again unless he slipped into her bed...god damn it. God fucking damn it...

She focused on her breathing, letting air fill her fiery lungs as he emptied himself inside her with each rope getting weaker. She felt so warm and full with exhaustion taking over her and making her close her eyes as she clung onto him desperately like she was terrified for him leaving. Nothing could describe how deeply afraid she was as he filled her with conflicted feelings so intense that she'd probably cry if she wasn't so exhausted. She couldn't possibly understand just what kind of trouble she was in now, she couldn't understand what horrors she'd be face with, and yet, she couldn't imagine being without him now either. God damn it, she couldn't describe the pure unbridled hatred and love she felt for this thing now more than ever as her head swam with thoughts and emotions too complex for her stupid state to understand.

His ominous words and chuckle didn't help either. She clung onto him harder and whined almost pathetically as she felt her head getting heavier and heavier with exhaustion leaving her weak and defenseless. If he wanted to kill her now, he had the perfect chance, but she knew this wouldn't be when she died. No...she did her job too well and now he wanted to stick around a little more. She was trapped with this thing. She was too weak to fight him now and too weak to defy him. "God damn you..." She whispered with a sore voice and yet clung onto him with walls still lovingly gripping his cock. She fought so hard to stay awake as she tried to refuse him the satisfaction of knowing he fucked her so good that she passed out, but it was a losing fight. Her eyes closed and her head started to swim as the world around her began to fade away. Her body was numb, but all she could feel as she felt the world disappear was the cock still buried deep inside her...

 

[Deranged]

Cloud after cloud of endorphin laced waves of contentment and relaxation washed over Agony like warm blankets. He kept her there, right on top of him as the dying motions of her spasming walls continued to attempt to milk his stretched and gradually deflating cock. The suction was incredibly sweet, especially now that he was in cold blood, with no animalistic drive to continue to pound her senseless - in order to push his boiling cum inside her. His face was still brushing around her slick and damp hair, inhaling more of the queer hanging on it in waves, with a patronizing grin plastered on it the whole time. He kept one hand on it too, fingers enmeshing and twirling around the many damp strands. His breathing came in long and slow draughts, filing his lungs with a very complex olfactory cocktail that his tiring mind was failing to pick in it's entirety. The strongest notes however, continued to register in his senses; the individual wafts, and the much larger cloud of the combination of their musks. It had a surprisingly anaesthetic effect on him; he could feel his eyelids getting heavy.

No way! She couldn't possibly have being such a good fuck that he'd want to sleep with her...

It was an alien sensation for the predator. Even in his days as Andy, and his early forays in the sack with girls who were perhaps, more desperate for physical interaction than he was; he had never felt anything like it. Even the one time he did score a chick that many would consider very well above his station in a one night stand, despite how strongly attracted he was to her sexually, despite how a combination of her skills and experience, and his own dauntless energy, had combined to produce what he would easily call his best fuck before this one, he never truly felt the relentless waves of contentment and satisfaction that he could see in his date's eyes when she pulled him to her rapidly dozing frame after a few heated sessions; or at least, not to the degree he was feeling them at the moment. He couldn't help it, he chuckled faintly into her hair and the back of her neck when she weakly shot her response to him. With the incredibly sweet sensations of her suctioning walls swishing the pool of his cum around his receding cocktip, he could only find endearment in her words.

It didn't take much longer for Agony to feel the rigid pressure of the floor on not just his hip, but his back and the back of his head too; slowly he lied back on the floor while still clutching her warm body against his. His once racing pulse began to waver, and he could feel hers drop too. It really was going to happen, he was going to lie down in contentment with a willing woman who shared every ounce of the fantastic sensations swirling around his body. He had to check himself for a bit there though; as deep as his mind and irritability was, he truly doubted that he felt the positive dividends of their sinful dance to the degree that the fascinating piece of warm, breathing flesh in his arms did. It was happening already... He had a policy of not 'sleeping over' during home invasions, but it seemed like this thirsty vixen had worked her hips enough break that carefully maintained streak this time. There was no fighting it, and really, he didn't want to fight it.

Oblivion...

---

"Okay... Let's try this sequence one more time..."

Andy was now in his apartment, a simple two room affair that was nothing spectacular. If you ask him though, he wouldn't have it any other way. He was currently in his 'office', if the relatively tiny, scarcely filled room could be called one. The main attractions lying inside the room were his computer, and the comfy looking chair and desk that he sat at while... 'working'. He was not working currently though, or maybe it was that he was not working in the sense that one would expect when one thought of the word. There was a small square of space between the door, and the desk where his laptop sat patiently, waiting to be used. It was on this square that he stood with feet spread apart slightly in a fighting stance. His eyes were dead set on the wall that was less than seven feet in front of him, and probably four away from his reach. His reach... That was what he was working on.

"Here goes..."

He launched another pistoning fist through the air in a fairly straight thrust. His arm accelerated with a fine blend of force and skill for a quarter of a second, then ceased moving completely after another quarter. Looking at the fist that stuck out rigidly in front of him, Andy was none too pleased. It was as clear as the small frown on his face.

"Well fuck it!"

He groaned in irritation, his disgust led to feelings of missing the voices of the extensions in his head, they conveniently have decided to remain silent since he woke up after about two hours of dozing in post carnal slumber with that enchanting prey of his. He felt like he would pay to hear something from any of the other two A's stuck in his head, but it appeared that he was on his own for this one. Could it be that they were mad at him? Why would they be? He was certain that he had handled things with that mystery prey, in fashion fit to satisfy everyone; Ash, Ace, Andy, Agony. Any facet of identity under his whims would have more than a few things to smile about on reliving that experience, despite the peculiar differences in their tastes and knacks.

Sighing, he decided to leave them be for now. Afterall, it was barely six in the morning, and he was not only up, but had also made the half hour journey from his prey's residence to his own. Fair to say that the other A's were probably still asleep. Or maybe, they didn't share his blatant disregard for basking in the euphoria of the most rewarding sexual encounter he's had till date by a grand stretch. It was odd really, the psychological soup that was the incredibly complex spectrum of his very identity; Andy was a relic from his former life... His 'human' alter-ego in media terms. Ash and Ace were the voices arguing for his either side of the neverending debate between 'logic' and 'force', that raged in his head. Agony... Well, so far, he was proving to be the persona with all the power, as well as all the 'evil'. Andy shook his head with a soft chuckle before he could delve into another winding thought chain, his stiff and proud fist soon caught his eyes again, and reminded him of his irritation, and why it was there to begin with.

Since his arrival about three hours ago, Andy found that he couldn't sleep. There was a certain restless and nervous energy in every fibre of his being that ensured so. Instead of settling for turning and tossing in bed though, he had decided to come to his office to see if he could busy himself with something... anything. Ten minutes of aimless clacking and clicking later, he realized that it was no good either. Frustrated, he settled on identifying the cause of the restless energy. He realized that there was more than a small feeling of excitement flowing through him on the wake of his new abilities. His mind, like a smart and complex Operating System, decided to 'cache' the several thoughts and fantasies of what he could do with those new abilities under his whims. Of course, since the thoughts were 'running in the background' so to speak, he was unaware of them until he put in the effort.

Long story short, Andy later settled on seeing if he could control said abilities at will. Roughly two hours later, his excitement had simmered into something akin to bile. Try as much as he could, he couldn't seem to activate any of the new abilities for whatever reason. It was perfectly frustrating! Of course, his fist healed back in little to no time when slammed it repeatedly on the floor (which was sturdier compared to his modest walls). The stinging scratches and scrapes on his back didn't seem to heal though. He's caught glimpses of the rough scrapes and scratches birthing them in the mirror, on showering shortly after his arrival. At least, those marks left there by his prey in the throes of passion, came with a signature icy sweetness to the stings they periodically jolted his spine with.

Her... He was thinking about her again...

He was thinking about her increasingly with the passing minutes. It was becoming a slight annoyance to a mind that has been carefully moulded into that of a remorseless predator. He didn't want there to be any sentiments in his relationship with that woman... That incredibly tasty snack. Yes, she was worth leaving to plague another day; he'll admit that he might be nursing plans of keeping her for quite a while, but soon enough, she was bound to bore him at some point. There was no point in allowing his fascination with her potential to drive him wild... It would earn him nothing... Nothing perhaps, but the jarring waves of restlessness that have crashed into his being since he left her sleeping soundly in her home. Her breathing had been rather pronounced, given the abuse that she had suffered in his hands though, both mentally and physically, he figured that she deserved the consuming blanket of sleep.

Although, his mind was made up the moment his eyes were open, Andy hadn't found it as easy as he'd have liked to leave her alone. It seemed to him like he suffered a bit from his favorite brand of torture to instill in his prey; dissonance... The mind wanting and asking for one thing, the body working towards the exact opposite. He had actually chuckled ironically in slight amusement on noticing it. First, it began with peeling her off him. The impulse to do so was initiated the moment his mind came on properly. It would've been very easy for him to do it too. Even if he didn't have his erratic superhuman strength, he had enough muscle on him to roll her well endowed body off his own with ease. Her endowments however, turned out to be the problem. The way her soft globes pressed against his chest... It gave him enough pause to freeze for a full five minutes; doing nothing but relishing the alternating waves of pressure and softness on his chest, as her own rose and fell with every long breath she took.

Unsurprisingly, he could feel stirring in his nether regions. That was when the second 'freezing' surprise hit him. Turned out that his cock didn't see any reason to slip out of her wet trap. The delicious sensations of pulsing muscle, heat, and wetness that wrapped around his slowly inflating cock was marvellous. He actually had to squeeze his eyes shut and bite back a rippling groan when the sensations rolled into him. Yet another impulse registered in his brain in that moment; pull the fuck out! This one was so strong, it came with enough urgency to make him obey it first before analyzing it. Luckily for him, he was able to do it before he really got hard; at the expense of feeling every exquisite sucking and pulsing motion that his prey's groggily reacting womb and pussy, bestowed on his cock. Again, he had to bite back his groans, why he did so, he wasn't quite sure. He wouldn't say that he was worried about waking her...

Maybe he was... and not because he thought she would raise alarm in a less lust-drunk state...

He treated her like kryptonite after that; stopping just short of swinging a harsh boot at the side of her head in a mixture of disbelief and irritation while she slept soundly, when he did manage to peel himself away completely. The third major impulse registered then; leave! Problem was, he was quick to frown at it. No! He was not petty rapist who would flee in fright after the deed was done! She was no dangerous, free woman who could rise up to swing the hammer on him, making him regret not killing her... HE was a remorseless predator in his prime, and SHE was HIS prey. That was it; he OWNED her! He surely wouldn't 'run' away after using her as he was ENTITLED to. With those thoughts floating in his head, he decided to take the time to really scrutinize her apartment. People don't often know it, but to minds like his own, a lot could be learned about a person on studying where they live. He learned a few things about her AND the small apartment, but instead of dwelling on them, he decided he'd leave, but only after leaving a parting gift for her.

With a cheap pen he had dug out from somewhere, he scrawled out a note for her on a piece of paper, then, like the typical Hollywood villain, he stuck it directly overhead and in front of her, on the cheap wall. The note read;

The next time I show up here, I want to see you in something slutty. If you're thinking about anything in your closet, think again. I've had a look.

That was it. There was no cocky insignia, no pet names, no gloating or boasting, just the simple order and the biting taunt behind it.

"Gimme a damn break..."

He grumbled, snapping out of his little reverie of recollection. He wasn't quite hungry yet, a surprise, since his formerly measly appetite had improved considerably since he became Agony. He shook his head and hissed on seeing his fist poking out yet again. No stretching, no expansion... Just regular old fist and arm. It had been so for the past hour, and his experiments with his hearing and sight, along with his invisibility, were met with the same stale wall of failure. It was no use, he couldn't continue, he knew. Sighing again, he decided to go to his living room and put on his TV. He had no doubt that the unfortunately fleetingly quick demise of Hotshot and her duo of lovers would dominate the morning rounds.

...but he was looking forward to it...

 

[TheSluttyBanshee]

Everything…was a blur. Though her mind was gone in a deep sleep, her body knew something had happened to her while she was out. The sensation of something pulling out of her womb and pussy almost brought her out of her deep slumber, but her body refused to wake. Even though her head was empty and heavy, she could feel how her insides squeezed the air and flexed at her sudden emptiness. The thick seed her attacker pumped into her leaked freely from her, soaked her thighs till they were sticky, and forever stained her cheap carpet with their sin. Though she groaned as some deep level of her understood what happened, she was far too gone to have the strength to wake. She was weak and defenseless, laying there almost pathetically for her attacker to finish the job and yet, by 9am in the morning, she was woken up by the sound of her phone ringing.

Not even a hangover could compare to the pain she felt in her head as she slowly came to. The ringing of her phone filled her with anger as the loud and high pitched rings made her head pulse and throb to make the pain even worse. Her entire body ached in pain as her skin, muscle, and bones forced her to remember all that happened last night. How aggressively she fought against her attacker no matter how badly her body ached and begged for an end for the pain, but pain was something she‘s no stranger to. Her guts ached from the abuse as her sticky pussy lips and thighs served as a painful reminder of what she did. His cum long dried on her skin and made her feel sick. Her insides ached in the sweetest ways. A feeling of a man who gave her the best fuck of her life with his phantom cock reminding her who she belonged to now. Frankly, she was shocked she was even awake at all. She expected the gates of hell to be greeting her the next time she opened her eyed, but once she finally opened her eyes and her vision cleared, she saw the same old apartment she worked so hard to get.

He…didn’t kill her? Why? She was just laying unconscious on the floor for a very long time if the aches in her body from sleeping on a hard floor were any clue. Why didn’t he finish the job when he had the perfect chance? She didn’t notice it at first, but her eyes wondered to the wall in front of her and her eyes widened. The sound of her phone ringing for a second time fell on deaf ears when she stared wide-eyed at what stuck to her wall. The words he wrote on that paper sunk in fast. Fuck…he was coming back. He was coming back for her and now he was demanding she go out of her way to be presentable for him when it happened. Son of a bitch…that god damn son of a bitch. He didn’t kill her cause he was gonna come back. She must of tired out any killer need in him, but she might not be so luckily the second time. She never felt so terrified of a single piece of paper before, but it was a warning. A warning that made her stomach twist up in knots. Shit, if he was coming back…she needed to prepare of it. She wanted to make him regret keeping her alive when she got to kill him herself the next. The next time she saw that sadistic smile on his face, she wanted to make sure he could never smile again. The fear inside her became a drive for her need to survive, but sickeningly enough fear wasn’t the only thing she felt.

There was excitement too. Her sore insides were excited for his visit. She never came so much or so hard from a man before. His cock was special, it could reach all the deepest parts of her and stretch her more than any man ever could. Fuck, she could feel her sore cunt ache just from the memory of what he did to her. This was a problem. A big problem, but first she needed to figure out who was blowing up her god damn phone before her head exploded!

She forced herself up and groaned as she felt every muscle ache and groan in defiance. She forced her numb legs to work as she used the edge of her bed to lift herself up and climbed towards her end table where her phone rang again and again with a nearly dead battery. She sighed when she saw it was a co-worker who was calling her and decided she’d better answer it. The last thing she wanted was to lose her job on top of all this after she killed her rapist.

”Hello?” She groaned, the pain in her voice was impossible to cover up.

”Oh my god, are you okay? I wanted to call and make sure you’re okay. You’re late today and you’re never late without telling someone. You sound awful though. Are you sick?”

”Y-yeah, I think I ate something bad last night. Everything hurts,” Olivia immediately lied. She didn’t want to get her co-worker involved in this. She was too sweet and might end up coming by if she thought Olivia was in trouble and she couldn’t risk that bastard killing her. She had a family to take care of, and she wasn’t going to be the reason her kids never saw their mom again just because she was too nice and got involved in something dangerous when it was Olivia’s problem.

“Oh no…do you need me—“

‘No!” She shouted louder than she meant to before she cleared her throat, “No, please don’t come by. It’s shady around here and I don’t wanna get you sick too. You have a baby at home so I don’t wanna give you something that might hurt them…”

”Well…if you’re sure. I’ll let the boss know you’ll be out for a couple of days. You take care of yourself, okay? Call me if you need anything.“

”Thanks, Jane. You’re the best,” She chuckled with a pain in her voice before hanging up and sighing.

She didn’t know what she was going to go about this, but the first thing she knew she needed to do was get a nice hot shower and wash last night off of her. She had to hang onto the walls to make it to the bathroom and she clung onto her stained counters and intentionally avoided looking at herself in the mirror as she reached into her cabinet and grabbed a painkiller. She popped a pill in her mouth and used the sink to give herself some water to swallow it with. She turned on the water to her shower and without any clothes on, she was able to step inside the second the water got hot.

She stayed the the shower for a long time, trying not to think about last night as she felt the sweat, blood, and cum slowly washed off her body. The shower was the only place that felt safe. She couldn’t feel the tears that welled in her eyes as she just savored the shower for as long she could before she eventually started to actually wash herself. When she got out of the shower, the movement and painkiller slowly helped make the aches in her body more tolerable. She didn’t expect it to be gone completely, but it became a dull ache she could handle. While she waited for her hair to dry, she tried to keep distracting herself by turning on the TV only to be greeted with the news.

Her eyes widened as she saw it. “Hotshot and 2 unidentified men found dead…” She turned the TV up and sat up as she listened to the report and felt dread sink in. She felt sick to her stomach as she listened to the details. They were killed in an ally near a street that wasn’t even a 10 minute walk to her apartment complex. They were so mutilated that they weren’t sure if they were going to be able to figure out the identities of the two male victims or not and Olivia began to wonder. Did he…oh god…what if he…? There was no knowing for sure, but Olivia felt it in her gut that she knew who was responsible for the attack. She quickly changed the channel and tried not to think about it, but it was so hard to not replay the gruesome details in her head…

By noon, Olivia felt good enough to get dressed and walked outside her apartment to lock the door. The bastard’s already been through her stuff disturbingly enough and it‘d be easy for him to get back into her apartment either way, but he wasn’t the only dangerous thing in the city. As she locked the door, she heard the door across from her open and a large man came out and instantly locked eyes with her. He was twice her size with a goatee and tattoos on ever inch of visible skin. They knew each other, but hardly spoke at all. The most she knew about him besides the fact he lived right across from her was the fact his name was Mark and he seemed to stay out of everyone’s business. However, when she met his eyes, he clearly wasn’t happy to see her.

The man hardly gave her time to put her keys away in her purse when he spoke with a booming voice, “Hey, next time your boyfriend comes over, don’t let the whole complex hear how much of a whore you are. I couldn’t sleep all night because of you,”

Olivia gripped the strap of her purse tightly and lowered her eyes. The look in her eyes was troubled, but she didn’t meet his gaze out of fear it might just stir him up more, “Sorry, I‘ll be quieter next time…” She spoke quietly, but firmly as to not come off as meek and weak. Right now, she didn’t want any more trouble, especially with men. Part of her was tempted to explain what really happened, but she doubted he’d care that someone attacked her last night and doubted he’d believe she was raped because of how loudly she moaned last night. It was just easier to not explain anything. She doubted the bastard would do anything to help her anyway. He wasn’t the charitable knight type from what little she knew about him.

His anger subsided a little, but she felt a chill run down her spine from the way he grinned at her. “Just keep that pretty mouth quieter next time. You’re pretty for a whore and you make pretty sounds…it gives a man ideas.” his hand came forward, but Olivia dodged it and immediately started to walk away towards the stairs. She couldn’t stand the thought of someone touching her right now and she just wanted to get away from him. The last thing she needed right now was another guy hunting her down and she prayed that he wouldn’t follow her and force her to keep talking to him. Luckily for her, he didn’t bother chasing her since he knew she was only right across the way and she’d have no choice but to see him again eventually and he might just try again then if he felt like it, but until then he settled for a bitter ”Bitch…“ under his breath and went on with his day.

Olivia ended up killing most of the day with her errands. Her first stop was the local pawn shop. They had a series of handguns up for sale that she took some time seriously debating whether or not it would be a good idea to bring one home with her. Could a gun even stop a guy like that? It had to…right? She assumed that anything should die if you shot it in the head or heart, even something inhuman like him. It’d eat up her savings she hoped to use to find a better apartment, but she might not be alive tomorrow to even get the chance to look for a new apartment anyway. With how dangerous the world was getting, it might not be a bad idea to invest in one anyway. Luckily, she never got arrested despite the people she use to run with, the kind of shit she had her hands on, and the shit she had to do to get it in the first place, so she had the option. She shot a gun before back when she was a druggie to impress the guy she was trying to sleep with for drugs, but never actually killed anyone before. Normally, she couldn’t see herself being someone who could kill someone, but if that guy came back tonight…she wanted to make sure if one of them was going to die, it wasn’t going to be her. He left her alive and she didn’t want to test her luck a second time, so even though it was a risk either way, Olivia would walk out of the store with a handgun in her purse with her next stop being local gun store to get ammo for it.

Her final stop was the most…uncomfortable one for the circumstance for why she was visiting it in the first place. A lingerie store should be a fun and exciting experience to shop at, but it just filled her with dread and disgust since she was shopping for something her rapist would like instead of a lover like everyone else was. She couldn’t believe she had to stand there and think about what her rapist might like seeing her in the most, but the happier she made him, the more likely he‘d put his guard down when he saw how much she went out for him. She planned on taking full advantage of her situation, so she needed to find something that would really grab his attention. She ended up settling for a black and red laced bra and panty set that came with a waist garter belt and stockings. The cashier could tell something was wrong with het, but took her fear as nervousness for not being confident in herself and threw in a free collar to go with it and told her how it’ll compliment her body so much her lucky guy would go nuts for her. She didn’t know how to feel about that, but she thanked the woman anyway for her kindness and headed home to set up her trap.

When she got home, she headed to her bedroom and put down her new items. First, she opened the newest bag that had candle, a bag of fake rose petals, and a bottle of wine that wasn’t cheap, but wasn’t high end either. Anyone who saw her purchases would think she was setting up for a romantic night with her lover and not trying to lure her rapist into a deadly trap that could end up saving her and possibly dozens of other people’s lives if he really was as dangerous as she thought he was. She lit the candle first and set the wine bottle on her end table. She quickly fetched a pair of wine glasses to join the bottle before reaching Into her lingerie bag and stripped out of her clothes to change into it. She threw her old clothes in the laundry basket in the bathroom and took the chance to see how she looked in the mirror.

The red and black perfectly complimented her skin and hair, but it was the little details in the set that truly set it apart from the other options. The red cups of her bra had a thin layer of black lace that formed a flower-like pattern. A pair of stray strings rose above the rest of her bra to circle around the swell of the top of her breasts that the bra did a good job raising up and showing off their full roundness. A little black bow nestled between her breasts as the bra not only lifted but pressed her breast closer together. The waist garter was red with a similar black laced design dancing across her stomach, hips, and lower back. The garter squeezed her waist and showed off her womanly curves as two black lines ran down her legs to keep her black fishnet stockings raised up her plush thighs by the black bow on top of the lace of her stockings. Finally, her black with red laced panties barely did anything to hide the pussy that her panties were suppose to protect with black bow just under her belly button. The parties were thinner around her hips, raising up just enough to make her ass cheeks spill from the fabric with her round cheeks swallowing what little fabric was behind her. It was perfect. Too perfeet for him, but hopefully it’ll give her the edge she needed to seduce him into lowering his guard.

By the time she came back to her bedroom, the room was filled with the smell of cinnamon apples. She took the empty bags she had left on her bed and threw them away in the kitchen, but came back to dig into her purse. She pulled out the .45 pistol and opened the chamber to check and make sure that nothing was inside it before she grabbed the box of ammo and started to fill the mag that came with the pistol. She was going to have to be quick and ready to shot this guy when she pulled this out on him cause if she fucked this up, he could easily take the gun from her and then…it would be game over for her. She had to pick the perfect time and pray his reaction time was just shitty enough for her to pull the trigger on him. When she loaded the mag, she pushed it into the gun, and pulled it back to force a bullet into the chamber. She took a breath as the sun was starting to set and she knew if he was coming to visit her tonight, it wouldn’t be long now…

Olivia hid the gun under her pillow and laid down on her bed. Her finishing touch was opening the bag of fake rose petals and letting them fall on and around her, decorating herself for his viewing pleasure. It might have been overkill, but he seemed to have an appreciation for dramatics. She put the plastic remains of the bag in her end table and stared at the window, watching at the sun slowly died, and going over her plan over and over again until her unwelcome guest decided to visit her...

 

[Deranged]

Crossbones...​

The storm that awakened as a result of the triple murder, rocked the entire Hamptons with a fury that the poor city wasn't quite ready for. The unfortunate alley that played host to the spectacle, was soon to welcome a swarm of police and forensic vehicles, as well as vans and cars from several reporters that were jostling their hardest to cash in on the eye-popping shocker while it was still hot. While murder wasn't exactly a new thing in the Hamptons, since the city boasted a rather beefy rate of crime in general (rates that were not uniformly spread across every section of the city itself), the chilling and gruesome nature of the triple killings, had a very strong pop-appeal, along with the shock factor it carried.

Throughout the day, the crime scene remained under the thorough scrutiny of the forensic team who tried their hardest to process it to the best of their ability, in order to make sense of the bizarre scene. Several theories were out there already; Victoria "Hotshot" Gonzalez, who was the only one of the three bodies strewn on the floor that still had a readily recognizable face in spite of her pulverized corpse, was a rather infamous figure in the Hamptons. She was one of those personalities that people knew to place with organized crime, but that still remained generally scot free for a variety of reasons. It was not that Hotshot herself didn't have her own mangled pieces hanging out of her corpse, but at least, her face was still readily discernible at first glance.

The moment that the police were able to identify her, and later, one of the men who turned out to be Scales, they concluded that it was a gang related incident. The headscratcher was not far behind though; apart from the fact that Scales was a mob powerhouse, Hotshot herself was no bottom-feeder in her own right; adding the mystery, mangled, third figure to the picture, it made for one very confusing scene for the men and women in both the police force, and the forensic teams to try to decipher. The floor was riddled with bullets though, so, at face value, it painted a scene of a quick blitz attack on the trio while they were unawares. It was a barebones theory, but until the autopsy reports came back, it was the best that the team could come up with. The alley was taped off to the public of course, not that it's environs could enjoy such protection though; up until sunset and well past it, a swarm of cars and figures remained around the taped off area.

The news of Hotshot's demise was enough to cause a stir in the Hamptons' underworld, when it came out in the morning news. That stir escalated into hurricane however, when the identities of the two other bodies were discovered through dental records, later in the day; Jacob 'Scales' Hawkins, and Billy Cobham, were the two others to have fallen to whatever fatal malady that occured in the alley, in the deepest depths of the previous night. There was an uproar in the Hampton's underbelly. Scales had been the iron-fisted ruler of the leading mob of the Hamptons; a bunch that called themselves the the Red Dust. His death not only came as a shock, it came as a very bitter slap to the members of the gang who had to learn of it from the media. In gang terms, it was simply embarrassing and unacceptable; a show of weakness, that could well prove to be the proverbial blood in a water swarming with sharks.

The Red Dust, although, the dominant nefarious force in the city, had competitors and rivals alike. Smaller gangs and neighboring factions of bigger organizations, also struggling for a place in the food chain of the Hamptons' underbelly; naturally, this made the rough parts of the Hamptons, very tough places to be. With this in mind, even the slightest cracks in the Red Dust's armor in the eyes of the outside world, could prove to be a fatal switch that would galvanize a free-for-all. It wouldn't matter much if the dominant gang managed to retain it's spot when the dust settled after; the casualties that would ensue, along with the resources that would be used up... Even Scales had seen that it would be a ticking time bomb. If the gangs ever fell back to infighting, their counterparts in blue would be overjoyed. Not only would the gangs be doing their jobs for them by taking each other out; they would also be providing them with a wealth of evidence, and probable cause, to facilitate a myriad of long overdue arrests in the process. It would be the death knell of organized crime in the Hamptons for sure... Of course, not all the gangs care that much though, most of the Red Dust's rivals seemed to lack the top gang's foresight.

In spite of the tense atmosphere surrounding the fragile, unspoken truce that maintained relative peace amongst the many gangs wading the sizable pool that was the Hamptons' ecosystem, the neon lights glowed with a seductive thrill once the sun set, and the speakers boomed fine in the space of Sapphire Dreams. A popular nighttime attraction in the central part of the city, under the thumb of the Red Dust. Tonight in particular, a lot of it's members peopled the grounds of the club. The atmosphere was a mixed bag; some people were partying hard with abandon, apparently happy with Scales' passing. There was a group of people with graver dispositions though; those ones that were aware of the old saying that goes thus; you don't know what you've got till it's gone. Scales might not have been the perfect leader, but he had managed the Red Dust's affairs, in manner befitting of it's current position as top dog in the gang hierarchy of the Hamptons.

The 'party' also had another function, an open secret. The Red Dust was to vote in a new head as soon as possible, since Scales had neither the luck, nor foresight, to have made arrangements to that effect, before his untimely demise. The people in contention for the hot seat, generally remained in a low-key mood. They were the highest-ranking members of the gang. The electoral process, for what it was worth, wasn't to exceed the night. The gang was afterall, in deep waters in hindsight. It took a little over two hours for one Marco Alvarez, alias the Hangman, to be declared the new head of the gang. The new boss had barely walked up the proverbial stage to deliver his inauguration speech, when a sudden panic bolted through the club as the lights suddenly became epileptic.

The good thing though, from the point of view of the gang was that, attacking a gathering of characters as shady as they were, you were bound to be greeted with a hail of guns on your person before you could blink thrice. That was what happened; tracing the source of the disturbance, guns were drawn and feet were plodding towards it. A minute later though, in the wake of several hissing pellets that filled the air with a thick mist, the once rocking and booming club, became a rather sleepy and dull affair in spite of the speakers that had managed to shake back to life. Bodies dropped to the floor either in complete slumber, or a state that wasn't too far off. So too, did the guns held by most of the dropping bodies.

"Shit!"

Marco began, realizing who it was that decided to crash his party before he even saw the eerie, and piercing, glowing 'X' that continued to advance towards his circle. Unsurprisingly, the strange, incapacitating gas that filled his area, didn't quite put he and his inner circle to sleep. It did make them docile and barely mobile though; so that, it was wishful thinking for any of the groaning and moaning men and women to grab onto their guns, let alone, use them. The X was coming from two glowing rods that pulsed with fiery intensity, held by the silhouette of an advancing male figure. The average person would call them neon tubes, but members of the Hamptons' underworld knew better. They knew that the tubes were capable of a LOT more than just glowing through thick mists...

"Crossbone! What... Bri--"

Marco's words fell flat as his tongue failed him; the pink organ opted to taper, then hang out of his drooping bottom lip instead.

Who the fuck was funding this madman?!

The mysterious figure that Marco had called Crossbone, stepped forward with an air of confidence, but also, a chilling wave of indignation. He carried that around with him; that alone, even without the heavy special-forces grade gear and helmet, that included a domineering, dark visor, screamed a vigilante, to anyone who had their hands in the proverbial 'evil pie'... Those with something to hide.

"Save it... I'm more interested in what you know about the murders..."

The heavily modulated voice that filtered out of the helmet was fitting for the dark and intimidating suit that the man had on. It didn't exactly help that he had a rather imposing physique to boot, in spite of his rather average height. His chest was broad, even without the light armor that framed it, and his biceps framed the sleeves of his costume with a prominence that lent him an aura of dread. Crossbone was the Hamptons' resident vigilante; a ruthless fellow who had absolutely no qualms with crossing the lines that the boys in blue would not. Even the smallest pickpocket roaming the streets of the Hamptons, knew of this infamous, mysterious figure, and his cold brand of justice.

Drooling, and stopping just short of spluttering under the influence of the strange mist that he and everyone else in the club had inhaled, Marco's eyes went wide, as he saw the line of questioning, and most importantly, it's implications for him. It was no secret amongst the members of the Red Dust, that Marco had always nursed an ambition to be it's supreme leader. Of course, with Scales around, that ambition had been a slow burning affair, in spite of Marco's respectable influence in the gang. Marco could easily see that the vigilante was indirectly accusing him of orchestrating the murders. The new boss wrinkled a brow, wondering when the vigilante ever concerned himself with criminal deaths and infighting. He did know though, that he wouldn't even see the first sunrise of his spanking new reign, if he failed to give the grim crusader a suitable answer.

Gulping profusely as he watched the vigilante sheathe the glowing rods somewhere on his thighs, Marco summoned a quick response that felt like it took thrice the amount of effort that it should.

"I don't... I don't... Know nothing... Nothing!"

With dark eyes hidden perfectly by the despairing visor over them, Crossbone fixed his laser-like vision on the squirming body of the Red Dust's latest leader. The mist that he had introduced into the air of the club, was a cocktail of several compounds, one of which actively inhibits complex thoughts; lies in the gritty field he favored. Stepping forward with thudding and prominent steps that made Marco jerk, and the scrambling few around him, attempt to scramble out of his way, the vigilante soon got on one knee next to the sprawling body of the prone mob boss. He placed the sole of the rugged boot that framed the leg that wasn't kneeling, on the shivering mobster's abdomen. The result was spontaneous; the spluttering that Marco had managed to hold back initially, did come at last, along with some more drooling that the vigilante relished in delight, behind the concealing hood of his helmet.

"Tell you what. I believe you... Infact, I'll even help you too..."

Marco was completely scandalized; he had no idea what to make of the vigilante's words. Or maybe, it was that his dozy brain didn't know what to make of them. He had enough wits about him though, to quickly seize the cryptic offer with both hands.

"Yes!... You, help me... Help us... We... Find killer... Us... Find killer together!"

Stupefied, Marco felt the effects of English not being his first language a lot worse than usual. In reality, he had gotten quite fluent in speaking it, just a hint of a Spanish accent though, but nothing indecipherable. Crossbone's helmet soon produced a dark wave of modulated chuckles that made Marco grow one step closer to pissing his pants. He had been one of the few bigwigs in the Hamptons' underbelly, that was yet to have any interaction with the vigilante. Naturally, it had emboldened him, given him the guts to make jokes about the others who have seen him and lived, when they recounted their experiences. Now though, he wasn't so sure that he found those people as weak as he had boasted up till this point.

"Yes... Whosoever did this... I need to know. If it's a new player in town, I want him on my hit list. If it's a new bunch too, I want to know where they operate from..."

Digging the boot further into the mobster's abdomen, Crossbone craned his neck to the left.

"You see why I'm willing to work with you now... Partner?"

Nodding along to his own question, Crossbone went a step further by grinding the boot into the shirt that Marco had inside his cream tuxedo. The mobster, in response, lost the battle with his bladder. Hot, steady trickles, poured rhythmically into his crotch. The poor piece of fabric got soaked in no time, and the embarrassing liquid soon pooled around Marco's hip and pant legs. Again, Crossbone let off another disturbing chuckle. Along with the now steady streams of drool that poured out of the mobster, the pool of urine was a very enjoyable sight for the vigilante; one that he relished to no end.

"Goes without saying, get your priorities right. I know you can't wait to fill the streets with whores and drugs in your new capacity... But don't forget to keep a big eye out for the phantoms that ran roughshod over Scales and that whoring pair."

With those words, the vigilante dug his boot in one last time, then got up, and turned slowly on his heel to walk away. Midway through the floor of prone bodies though, he paused. He remained there for a minute, causing fresh panic to rise in the once heaving body of mobsters. They were worried that he'd change his mind, and just blow them all up to bits or something.

"And oh... That bitch, Hotshot? Yeah, she was shagging that Billy guy. Just so you know, Billy's death might not have been at the hands of whosoever we're looking for... That's why I haven't mentioned him up till this point."

After that, the ominous clomps of his footfalls resumed, and the body of writhing and moaning Red Dust members who were still awake, sprawled alongside the fairly numerous unaffiliated bodies on the floor, wondered how the Vigilante knew so much. Apparently, not even Marco with his influence in the gang, knew of Hotshot's frequent trysts with Billy. In spite of his fading brain though, Marco mused that he was glad that he didn't have Hotshot to worry about anymore... That Jezebel was nothing but trouble. Her death was good riddance as far as he and most of the people affiliated with the gang were concerned.

---

Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer...​

It was a bit of a chore for Andy to continue to act like he was groggy and unconscious, when the effects of whatever the contents of Crossbone's smoke pellets were, had worn off rather quickly for him. However, he knew that he had to be patient. He was in Sapphire Dreams for a reason afterall. Hours after crushing the leading couple of the Red Dust, and a few less since his delicious assault on a certain juicy prey that he still had plans for, Andy was lying on his face, with his chin and upper neck being covered by one carelessly flung thigh from some random woman, while the stench of booze clung tightly to the body of a pudgy man to his left. He had been awake and in the same irritating state for the past half hour; contemplating when it would be safe for him to push himself to his feet and glide away from the club without drawing too much attention to his 'miraculous resistance' to Crossbone's cocktail.

When the woman whose thigh was still flexing randomly on his neck and chin, mumbled yet another dreamy stream of gibberish in her slumber though, Andy decided that he has had enough. With his best groggy act, he swung off the errant thigh from the person, then pushed himself shakily to his feet in time to catch most of Marco's circle, whom Crossbone must've reduced the concentration of the dosage for (Crossbone was known for his meticulous and calculating nature), do the same. After the frustrations that he had encountered earlier that morning with his experiments, Andy had turned to the news to try to stay afloat on his own case. Of course, he knew that the media, for all their dogged efforts, only end up feeding on scraps compared to what the police really knew, still though, he was interested in learning what he could.

When the identity of his victims came to the limelight, Andy found his eyes widening a bit. Not in fear or dread, but in intrigue. He had no idea that they were the ones when he was executing them last night; on knowing though, his curiosity got the better of him. Andy could be said to be the curious one, and so, he lived up to his reputation with his counterparts. Getting into his office, it took some doing for him to employ his cyber skills in order to learn all he could of the couple, and the gang that they were affiliated with. He wasn't hoping for the Holy Grail, but he had came up with the gang's ties to the club, and had decided to celebrate his successful 'harvest' in the same club, in a callous, ironic twist.

Of course, there was another reason why he decided to visit. He was curious to see how the gang would react to losing their leader to an unknown threat. On learning of the election of a new boss, he thought he had hit paydirt. He was soon to reassess that conclusion though, when Crossbone arrived. Andy couldn't believe his luck; then again, he couldn't help but realize that his luck could only shine, because of his resourceful thinking. If he hadn't thought to drop into the club, there was no way that he'd have gotten a first hand account of Crossbone's visit, and it's implications for he and his future operations.

The other voices were still silent, and his powers were still wonky too. However, they appeared to work diligently, when Crossbone introduced his sleeping mist into the club. Not that Andy could tell for sure, how his body had built up a spontaneous tolerance, then resistance to the cocktail, but he was glad that his consciousness didn't fail him for the duration of Crossbone's meeting with Marco. Andy soon found himself in his car; he had left his phone on the dashboard for whatever reason, gleaning the time from it, he realized that it was an hour and half past midnight. Good, he really didn't have any other plans for the night anyway.

Thoughts of his enchanting prey, and his unfinished business with her, crossed his mind, but he could only chuckle at the thoughts of how she must've scrambled to prepare for his arrival... an arrival that would never happen. Even if his little side mission in Sapphire Dreams didn't pop up, he had no intention of visiting her tonight at all. He didn't plan to be predictable; he wanted to keep her on her toes at all times. The more she struggled, the more he would enjoy their time together. A secret part of him wished that he could see her right now though... He wanted to see the look of anticipation on her face. He wanted to see that anticipation morph into fear, then disgust, when she finally realized that he wouldn't be coming tonight. Rolling his eyes with a short hiss, he blamed himself for not planting a spy camera in her apartment. He was quick to remind himself though, that he had been ill-prepared for that on his last visit; something he planned to rectify on his next one.

As his engine hummed smoothly beneath him, Andy's mind turned to the emerging player in his latest adventure. Crossbone. The thing was that he was a hundred times more excited than he was apprehensive to be on the vigilante's watch. Of course, he realized that he still had the upper hand in every way conceivable. Not only did he know of Crossbone's existence, he now knew that Crossbone would be working closely with the Red Dust, to unravel the mystery behind the demise of Scales and Hotshot. He felt like a parent playing possum, or feigning fear to entertain his child. He couldn't exactly bring himself to dread any possible negative repercussions of the alliance that he had been very fortunate to witness, about an hour ago. A part of him was warning him of the dangers he was flirting with, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Maybe he was underestimating the alliance, maybe he was not... Maybe, he was even overestimating them.

Again, he missed his extensions. If Ace was around, he'd have relentlessly lined out a myriad of reasons why he should take the alliance more seriously; especially since the enigmatic Crossbone was a member of it. Ash would probably laugh at the challenge, and goad him on to let it fester long enough to culminate into a confrontation... When that confrontation would come though, he had no doubt that Agony would be on hand to relish every second of it, and possibly make a spectacle of it too. That was something he was still unsure about though. He was weary of raising his profile in the public eye. He didn't need to be psychic to know that Agony wanted the exact opposite though. He could tell that Agony wanted to be that public force of chaos and utter destruction, whose name alone, would send many into seizures. Andy on the other hand, just wanted his simple pleasures; he just wanted to survive, by feeding on the unnatural sustenance that his body craved.

Andy glanced at his phone again, it was now two hours past midnight. He wondered if his prey would still be keeping a vigil for him. Would she be shivering in dread? He doubted it, she seemed to have a deep zest for life; a primal refusal to perish too; that was evident enough in her passionate efforts to fight him. The most alluring part of her that he found out last night, was that she seemed to be in love with pain like him. There was a lot about that last part that he didn't know in detail, but he was excited to find out with time.

Just not tonight, though...

 

[TheSluttyBanshee]

I’ll get her…someday…​

There was no point in chasing after her. It was only a matter of time before they’ll cross paths again and when they do…he won’t take no for an answer a second time. Mark had been eyeing Olivia from a distance for some time, but never got a chance to really talk to her. Out of the year or so since she moved in, Mark could count on one hand the number of times he got to talk to her. The only thing he knew about her was her name and it was starting to piss him off. Any time he tried to be nice and make conversation with her, she always seemed like she was in a hurry to get away from him. Her responses were quick and brief, even when his questions demanded a longer answer. She always said she was tired from work to really hold a conversation, but he knew she was lying. The fucking bitch was looking for any excuse to end the conversation with him and honestly, it was starting to really get on his nerves. A woman that fine wasn’t someone he was gonna let go of easily, but he tried to be patient with her paranoia. He could tell from the look in her eyes that she had a rough history with men and he was a pretty intimidating one at that. He’s been playing the sweet, nice guy to try to get Olivia to feel safe enough to talk to him, but the little bitch was tougher to get close with than he thought.

Each time he saw her, it got harder to hide his desire for her. From the moment he saw her, he wanted to see her pretty lips wrapped around his cock. Her lips looked so soft and perfect. The lips of a whore that drove his imagination wild. She had a pretty face and he wanted to see it covered in his cum. He wanted to wrap that long soft hair in his fist and make her scream. He wanted to see if her tits were as perfect as he imagined them to be. He wanted to grab and squeeze her ass as he felt how tight her perfect cunt was. Fuck…just thinking about her again got him hard. What guy could blame him though? A woman like that was begging for a cock, he just knew it. Fuck, he even went out of his way to steal a pair of her panties after he saw her leave the shitty little laundry mat their apartments offered. Luckily, it was easy since she was the type who didn’t have the patience to sit around and guard her clothes. Even though it wasn’t her, it was good enough to get him to finish when his thoughts couldn’t get off of her. Last night though…changed everything.

Mark thought he’d been charming, kind, and patient with their brief interactions and had hope that he was finally making prog when he caught her on a good day and actually got a smile from her, but last night…all he could hear were her moans. He never once saw a man come around to see her or even enter her apartment, but one clearly got to her last night. A deep seeded jealousy struck him as he could hear her moan like a whore in a way not even his favorite pornstars could live up to. That fucking bitch had to be doing it on purpose. No woman moaned so loudly where every apartment near them could hear them unless she was doing it on purpose. She was taunting him. She figured out he wanted her and probably noticed her panties went missing and wanted revenge. She wanted him to hear her slutty cries and hear her moan for a man that wasn’t him like he had the best cock in the world. That fucking cunt tortured him last night. He tried everything to ignore it out of pure spite, but he couldn’t completely make himself deaf with a pair of earbuds blasting music, because deep down he couldn’t resist listening. Her moans were like a siren song, forcing him to lay in bed and listen to her fuck another man. She was taunting him, punishing him for stealing her panties, but wanting him to listen to how hot she could sound if he was man enough to take what he wanted. What a cruel whore…and naturally, he couldn‘t resist relieving himself again and again to the sound of her.

That morning, he felt an anger towards her unlike any he felt towards any woman. The fucking little bitch kept him up all night with those cries and he couldn’t stop himself from letting that slip when he saw her again. He hated her for what she did last night, but he tired to stifle his anger and hope the minx was over whatever revenge plot she was doing and accept his first attempt at directly flirting with her instead. He thought it was time they stopped playing games. She knew he wanted her and if she didn’t want him on some level, she shouldn’t have made such lewd nosies for him to hear. But, when she rejected him without a word, his anger returned. A decision was made then and there as he checked out her ass as she walked away from him. No more fucking games. He was done being nice. The bitch was taunting him and punishing him, but she was gonna find out soon enough that this little game she was playing was about to get her in a lot of trouble. Every man had his limits and she fucking pushed him too far. Now, she was gonna pay for it. He was done and next time, he was gonna take what he wanted…no matter how hard she fought him.

---

That son of a bitch…
​

Olivia didn’t know she fell asleep until the alarm on her phone woke her up. She groaned as the annoying charm of the alarm immediately pissed her off enough to reach over and blindly search for her phone. She eventually found it on the end table and silenced it, but despite how badly she wanted to go back to sleep, it was too late. Once she got woken up, it was almost impossible for her to go back to sleep again. She knew it was a work alarm too. She never set an alarm unless she had a reason to get up in the morning and she groaned even louder when she realized she should get ready for work. She already skipped one day, she couldn’t afford to miss another. Especially, not after the money she spent yesterday.

She forced her eyes to open and blinked as she looked down and saw what she fell asleep in. The lingerie she specifically bought for a visitor that never came. The memory hit her as she remembered how she spent all night waiting for that son of a bitch to come back until the stress and anxiety drained every ounce of energy she had left. Olivia spent all night running through plans of how she was gonna defend herself and keep that fucker from attacking her again. She had to ignore the glimmer of excitement her sex had thinking about him coming back to avoid the dread of what it implied and focus on trying to survive the next encounter. He made it clear he was coming back and she couldn’t take any chances. He was probably coming back to finish the job. She did good enough to spare herself some time before she was at hell’s gates, but she wasn’t going to be so lucky a second time. She just felt it in her bones that the next time he came, it was gonna be a fight to the death, and Olivia didn’t plan on going out like a bitch. She didn’t get this far and made all this progress just for some freak of nature to kill her. She was ready, she was prepared, she was confident…but the fucker never came.

Of course he didn’t. She shouldn’t even be surprised. It was too easy. That thing was a sadistic bitch and she should of known better that he wasn’t going to come back so quickly. He liked to play games, get into her head, and now he was gonna make her wait and wonder when he was gonna strike again. If he‘d strike again. That thing was evil enough to make her think he was coming back, but never had the intention to. She was confident that she wouldn’t be so lucky, but making her paranoid and terrified every night while he sipped on a beer in his favorite chair with the satisfaction of knowing she’ll never feel safe again was exactly what she’d expect from a guy like him. No, she got the feeling he didn’t like having loose ends. He was coming back, but now…she was helpless. She’d have to wait night after night on constant alert. He stole every sense of safety she ever had in her home and he was gonna make her suffer anxieties that almost begged for him to show up already and get it over with. He wanted her to deal with the mental gymnastics of wanting the stress and anxiety to be over when he finally arrived and the constant fear of silently begging she’d never have to see him again. Even with a gun in her home, she’ll never feel safe again.

Fuck! The gun!

Olivia lurched up suddenly with sudden energy as she realizes she fell asleep with a fucking gun under her pillow. God damn it, she was lucky she didn‘t finish the job for him. Thankfully, her hand didn’t squeeze anything and let go of the gun at some point. She sat up and lifted her pillow and sighed in relief when the gun laid there where she left it. “Holy shit…fucking dumbass…“. She swore at herself for making such a dumb mistake, but she quickly took the gun off her bed and put it in the drawer of her end table instead. Part of wondered if she should bring it with her when she went out since it didn’t hurt to have a weapon in her purse these days, but she decided against it this time. She needed to save her bullets for that freak. She might need every single one to kill him as far as she knew. Besides, her job was strict about guns and she didn‘t have a car to hide it in until she got off of work. Maybe it was for the best anyway, she clearly wasn’t smart enough to have one in public let alone in her own house apparently.

She got up and winced as she felt the tight fabric of her lingerie dug into the swell of her breasts and ass cheeks while she slept and immediately decided to strip it off. It didn’t get the use she expected it to get, but it struck her that not only was he depriving her of any sense of safety in her own home, the fucker wanted her to spent every might dressed in this damn thing for the night he did actually show up. Night after night, dressing up like a whore for him even if he didn‘t come. Bad thing was, she couldn’t say “fuck it” and just never wear it. Her plan depended on him being so seduced by how hot she looked that he’d let his guard down enough for her to pull a gun on him when he least expected it. Every night…she was gonna have to wear this damn thing and every night…she was gonna have to sleep with a gun under her pillow and pray she didn’t accidentally blow her head off while she slept.

Olivia decided to stop focusing on it for now. She really needed to get ready for work and frankly, she welcomed the chance to focus on something else besides this nightmare. Red lines carved her breasts and ass from her choice of sleepwear, but she choice to ignore it as she showered and dressed herself for the day. She wore a grey professional blazer and a white skirt that appropriately hid her thighs with black tights covering her legs. It was one of the most expensive outfits in her closest, but she had to look nice for work and it didn’t even compare to what the other women at her job wore daily. Her bank account hurt just thinking about how much they spent, but she had another disadvantage. She couldn‘t wear anything that would leave her arms exposed. The others never saw her without sleeves covering her entire arm and she never intended for that to change. As faded as the scars of her past were, she couldn‘t pass them off as freckles or brith marks. Everyone would know what they were the second they’d see them and the last thing she wanted was rumors about her spreading around. Her co-workers loved to gossip and she didn’t need everyone knowing the kind of woman she use to be. The woman…that she still was. The man last night proved that her old self never really left. She just buried her and hoped to never see her again, but the stranger brought her out and she thought out of everything he did to her, that was the cruelest thing he did that night. She wasn’t any better than before. She could pretend all she liked that she was someone new, someone better, but it was just a game of pretend. She was a whore with a fetish for pain and fear just without the drugs to keep her sedated while men did whatever they wanted to her. Now, she might have another addiction. An addiction to a cock she hated…

Olivia couldn‘t waste anymore time or else she was gonna miss her bus. Luckily, Mark hadn’t been there this time when she locked her door. Something about him always creeped her out, but yesterday was something else. He never talked to her so rudely and hatefully before, but maybe it was the lack of sleep getting to him. She knew she’d be pissed if her neighbors kept her up all night cause they were fucking and didn’t know how to use a gag. Still, something about him just never sat right with her. Maybe she was just being paranoid, but she really hated being near him. Thankfully, she wouldn‘t have to worry about getting sucked into a unwanted conversation again and she instead made for the stairs leading down to the level below.

Luckily, she caught her bus just in time and found a seat that was relatively safe from any creeps. There was one man on the bus that was clearly trying to hide the fact he wanted to try to sneak a picture of her skirt in hopes of getting a flash of panties on his phone, but she just kept her legs tense to prevent him from getting that shot. When she made it to her stop, it wasn’t a long walk before she reached the office building she needed. She opened the door and greeted the receptionist that recognized her.

”Good morning, Olivia!”

”Morning, Claire!”

”Didn’t have any trouble on the bus, I hope,”

”Just the usual creepy trying to see up my skirt,” She shrugged playfully and earned a laugh from the receptionist as she made her way to the elevator and pressed the button to call for it.


When she made it to her floor, Jane was one of the first people she saw. Jane was a woman in her early thirties with short red hair and despite just having her first child, she still managed to look as in shape as she did before she got pregnant. She was the kind of woman who was always meant to be a mother. Sweet, kind, and caring to everyone around her. The others joke that she was the office mom and that was the perfect way to describe her. Hell, Jane was a better mom to her than her own mom was.

“Liv! Oh my gosh, I didn’t think you’d come in today. You sounded so sick…” She spoke with excitement and concern. Just like a woman who hadn’t seen her grown child in awhile.

Olivia felt all her worries disappear just from Jane’s presence and smiled at the older woman, “I didn’t think I’d be able to make it in today either, but I woke up feeling good this morning so I decided to come in.”

Jane smiled, but looked at her slightly worried. “Well, I stayed late last night to make sure your paperwork was taken care of so you didn’t have a pile to come back to. Just take it easy today, okay? And, let me know if you need anything.” Jane’s desk was the office medicine cabinet. Headache, nausea, paper cut…any alignment could be cured by a visit to Jane’s desk which made her a very popular person in the office.

Jane’s natural concern for her warmth her heart, “Jane…you didn’t have to do that. Your baby needs you, but…thank you anyway…”

Jane waved her hand dismissively, “Oh please, our nanny adores Simon. She loved the extra play time with him.”

Olivia smiled at that, but ultimately had to cut their conversation short since she needed to get started on her work. Still, she appreciated the brief conversation. Jane’s natural sweetness could chase away the biggest storm cloud looming over someone’s head and she had one hell of a storm cloud.


Focusing on work did her some good, but her mind wasn’t completely trouble free either. Her mind couldn’t help going back to him. She was safe at work, but when she got back home…she didn’t know what was going to happen. Would he come tonight? Would he kill her tonight? What about tomorrow? Or the next day? She couldn’t go to the police about it. They wouldn’t do shit about this. He left nothing behind besides what marks he left on her body and even then, they couldn’t arrest someone that she just said broke into her apartment. She had no proof. Fuck, she didn’t even know the guy’s name. The best she could do is describe him, but she doubted she’d even get that far. She was fucked. She didn’t have anyone to reach out to that wouldn’t immediately get endangered in case he hunted her down and decide to punish her for trying to avoid seeing him again by killing anyone involved. She couldn’t say if she’d be safe tonight or not. Hell, she couldn’t even be sure that he wouldn‘t be waiting for her in her apartment when she got off of work. She really tried not to think about that. Instead, she did her best to keep herself busy to avoid thinking about it as much as possible until she had no choice but to head home and pray no one would be waiting for her when she got there…

 

[Deranged]

Enigmas...​

Why is it that people never seem to unite, until there's a cadaver to stare at? It was a question that has been plaguing one detective Joe Parish for the better part of his relatively fresh career, that has spanned the past eight years. The answers that his mind had dredged up over the years of asking that recurring question, always seemed unsatisfactory in some sense. Or maybe, it was that the answers were picky; working for one scenario, but failing to work for another. If there was a real answer to that question out there though; a universally satisfactory one that would cover every single scenario without prejudice, the detective was yet to find it; and as his somewhat tired blues reflected back at him from his rearview mirror, he feared that the answer he sought, would still elude him for years to come.

Still though, it was interesting to try. It was something to do, for one. Not to mention the fact that it kept him from focusing on the cutthroat pressure that a rightfully panicking public, that strived to be in the know, were pressing into the pores of he and his colleagues. Law enforcement wasn't the easiest profession by more than a fair margin; with it's constant strains, and incredibly demanding nature - that often managed to leak into one's personal life atimes. It was what Joe had chosen to do though, and he loved his job too. Even the rough periods like this one, when the phantom screeches of fear and public hysteria, gave him shallow sleep.

Thank God for conditioned reflexes. By the time Joe finally managed to make it to work - which was the slightly above modest building that served as the station for the Hampton's police department (HPD for short), he had put as much active thought into the drive there, as he had with brushing his teeth that morning. Exiting his car, he began to float like a ghost into the bustling building, with lazy flashbacks of the events that led him to work this morning, floating at the back of his head. It hadn't been anything overly remarkable, or special in hindsight. He had kicked out of bed to the sound of his alarm clock - the same way he did every other morning he was slated to go to work; his wife who was still breathing lightly in slumber next to him, didn't get a second glance from him until he left the shower a few minutes later.

She was up by then, and was on point with a steaming cup of coffee, as usual. He had received the cup with a brief side hug, and a quick, if lingering kiss to her forehead as they exchanged greetings. The rest was a blur from there; dressing up, breakfast... Until he caught a glimpse of his preteen daughter, Amy, who was yet to start her preparations for school on his way out. He didn't know why it happened, but seeing his daughter's soft blue eyes, reminded him of the horrendous scene that he was breathing in, when he met the infamous Victoria Gonzalez in person. Amy was a far cry from the woman he remembered on seeing her, both in age and appearances (in every sense of the word), but the mind was an enigma afterall. Sometimes, it springs things upon it's owner, that would confound them.

As Amy pressed herself into him with a big, tight hug (she was excited to see him on a morning that he wasn't off duty), Joe finally pieced together why his mind had flashed to the infamous 'Hotshot' on seeing his daughter. The woman who was lying lifeless on the medical examiner's table when he left her; mangled pieces left of her chest and abdomen... That woman could be Amy someday! It was a far cry, and he knew it; since he would sooner bend over backwards, than raise Amy to be a backstabbing, mouthy, murdering whore. Yet... In a compulsive and unreasonable way, that realization, irrational as it was, refused to leave his mind; instead, it pressed him to find the mysterious killer(s), that made short work of three of the city's most powerful mob players, in one night. He had a small, nagging feeling in his gut to credit for his musings, one that he knew was as irrational as most of the thoughts floating in his head at the moment; he feared that the perpertrator(s) had eliminated the mobsters just for the fun of it... No vendettas, no beef... Just pure, sociopathic hedonism. Like the antagonist characters of chilling horror flicks.

It was a scary thought.

"Detective Parish! You look bubbly."

Striding into the medical examiner's office, Joe was greeted by the words of Dr. Maggie Roberts. She was a woman in her forties, who looked it without appearing to have aged badly. Her sandy brown hair, and smoky grey eyes that were hidden behind glasses more often than not, swam into his vision - as his head sprang up in tune to her words, that had snapped him out of his thoughts. Unlike him, she seemed to be hiding her fatigue very well. Ever since the discovery of the bodies two days ago, HPD had been a swarm of constant activity; with more than a few people opting staying over at work for the duration. He had been one of the few who went home last night, on account of his family. Frankly though, he doubted that there was any notable difference between he and his colleagues that didn't go home. The fatigue that he had been hiding fairly well at home, freely leaked into his eyes now, since he didn't feel the need to hide it from anyone at work. They were all in the same boat, afterall.

"Don't tease me, Maggie. You better have some good news too."

He noticed the trio of bodies that were spread out on three different tables, when he stepped into the spacious room, proper. One young man and another young woman were at the tables; no doubt, assisting the chief medical examiner. To his shame, Joe didn't try too hard to keep afloat with Maggie's - seemingly constantly changing body of interns. His voice seemed to give the pair of interns pause, and although, he could guess why, he was too tired to bother. He marched straight for the tables, with Maggie trailing smartly behind him.

"If by good news, you mean tangible examination and analysis, I've got your stuff."

Joe turned to eye the doctor for a bit; she had one of those thin smiles she was apt to give on her face. He was glad that she had a warm personality. They've been working together for five years now, and he knew how helpful her personality was, to their ability to work seamlessly together. He had the three years before her arrival to HPD's medical examiner's office, to judge by. Stopping gingerly by the table that held the body of the once proud Hotshot, he folded his arms, while his eyes got arrested by her pulverized torso.

"Let's hear it."

Maggie seemed only too happy to oblige. With a small wave of the hand, she signalled her interns to carry on with what they were doing, and the pair did so; seamlessly and quietly. She circled over to the opposite end of Hotshot's table to begin her narration, with a loud click of her tongue - yet another habit of hers.

"Miss Gonzalez here... Wow, she's an interesting one. She sustained multiple blunt-force wounds to the upper chest, and lower abdominal areas. All of which appeared to have been inflicted, by a man's size eight shoe. Right leg."

Joe raised a brow with a small and involuntary hum, as if to say; "No shit!". The doctor picked up on it, offering him a vigorous nod, while reaching for one of the victim's arms; the incredibly fractured, and broken left one. Joe wasn't sure that he knew anyone that was more comfortable, and in their element around death, than Dr Roberts.

"The fractures and bruising in the victim's left arm, are consistent with defensive wounds, from trying to fend off being... Stomped, really. We found partials of the same shoe imprints that we found on her pulverized chest, on both of her arms as well. This arm just happened to have suffered far more than her other one."

Maggie pointed to the spare patches of discolored skin that framed the poking bits of splintered bone, in what used to be an arm that she held up for him to see. Joe's eyes followed, and he nodded along, while trying his hardest to piece how in the world, anyone would be able to overpower Victoria Gonzalez, to the point of profusely stomping her to death.

"No rope burns, or fractures to suggest that she was bound during the assault. Infact, all the evidence points to the fact that she struggled, or at least, actively tried to flee the assault."

Groaning involuntarily, Joe folded his arms over his chest, then responded to the doctor's words after a small stretch of silence.

"Multiple attackers then?"

Maggie shook her head with another small smile that appeared to be leaking excitement.

"No, no, Joe. All the partials, smudges, and imprints that we came across, they all had a very high consistency. Unless there's a pair of manic twins, or even sextuplets out there, we're looking for one man wearing a size eight."

With widening eyes and rising brows, Joe couldn't help but vocalize it this time.

"No shit."

He got another enthusiastic nod from Maggie, who turned to the table in the middle, where the body of a heavily defaced Billy Cobham, was lying.

"Funny enough, this one was the most 'open and shut' of them all. He's not without his own twists though."

Maggie's dark humor managed to rub off on Joe at last, making him crack a smile that she mirrored.

"Cause of death was a single bullet to the forehead, execution style. The other bullets that destroyed his face and chest, came after that. Whosoever it was that shot him, really wanted to erase him, I guarantee that."

"One other thing, the victim appeared to have suffered a few violent stomps to the chest and abdomen as well. Although, they obviously didn't cause him to cave in like Hotshot over there. We scanned the imprints on the bruising that he suffered, and they didn't match the ones on Hotshot."

Joe's eyes widened again. He wondered why Maggie would insist that Victoria was killed by someone who acted alone, when the Red Dust's right hand seemed to have suffered the same fate as her, at the heels of someone else.

"Do the imprints match the shoes of any of our victims?"

The visible smile that crawled up Maggie's face, sufficed as a loud and clear yes, even before she spoke. It had taken Joe a little longer than it should have, for him to realize that Maggie was playing one of her fun little games with him. 'Paint a picture', she liked to call this one. If Joe had been a little more alert mentally, he would've been an enthusiastic participant.

"They do! Funny enough, you'd think the perpetrator would be obvious, since Hotshot didn't have the feet for it, and Billy couldn't possibly have stomped on his own stomach. It WAS Scales."

Joe scratched the back of his neck at the jabbing end of Maggie's statement. It was all in good humor though, so he could chuckle slightly. He should've been able to connect the dots on his own; if only he wasn't so tired. Between the rambling thoughts, and mounting pressure of the case, he barely got any sleep last night; not even his wife's comforting, and familiar soft breaths, could lull him into full oblivion. Now though, knowing that Scales at least stomped on Billy's corpse, only served to further confuse him.

"Did Scales shoot Billy? We recovered two guns on the crime scene, both of them were completely spent. They were obviously the ones that launched the numerous bullets we recovered as well. Still gotta check in with ballistics on that though. Later."

Maggie groaned slightly, reaching for her lower back. She had been standing through the night, and although, she was used to standing for long periods at a time, she wasn't getting any younger. Or perhaps, it was that she was long overdue for that vacation that she had been evading for about two years now. Instinctively, she reached for a chair behind her, then pulled it close, so she could settle on it.

"Ah! My body's not what it used to be, I'm afraid,"

She laughed at her own joke as Joe indulged her with a smile; after which, she sobered up to continue.

"We tested Scales for GSR, his right hand was positive. Funny enough though, most of the blood on his hands, were his own. No big surprise, since he had a big gash on his neck, and another on his abdomen."

Joe was now even more confused than before. Several things weren't adding up with their earlier narrative. If Scales killed Billy, did he come along with an accomplice that killed Hotshot? If he did, how did that lead to his own demise? Not to mention, why would Scales want to eliminate his right hand, and his girlfriend, in one night?! He was cursing his tired brain, but try as much as he did, it wouldn't stitch up anything useful quick enough. Growling silently, he looked up from Billy's hanging optic nerve, to Maggie.

"Alright doc. You tell me, looking at the facts, what is your theory of what happened that night?"

Maggie barely had to draw a breath before she began rattling off a response. It was further evidence that she had been carefully leading him by the nose, all along.

"Billy was pantless, right? And Hotshot had no clothes on, when we found her. If you ask me, I'd say that the two of them were having an affair under Scales' nose. We found some semen in Hotshot's vaginal canal, when I was trying to corroborate this theory. We tested it, and it checks out, it was Billy's."

A dark smirk crept up the doctor's face before she spoke again. Joe knew she was about to flex her dark humor once more. She was obviously enjoying her wicked little game, even if Joe was being a lousy partner in it right now.

"We should thank God that Victoria had an excellent 'sleeve'. It's tightness wasn't just useful in luring Billy to his doom, but in holding in some of that semen for us to find, in spite of the thunderous stomps that she endured."

Joe held his ribs in short laughter. Again, he was grateful for Maggie's personality. She had a unique way of smoothening out the dark edges of their job. It was not the worst perk to have in a grim and gloomy profession like their own.

"Alright, so Scales found out that they were fucking behind his back, then decided to drop in on them - which led to a confrontation - that culminated in his killing Billy. It still doesn't explain how he wound up dead though; and especially not how another stranger, who has some superhuman levels of endurance and strength, was the one who killed Hotshot."

It was Maggie's turn to sigh tiredly, and rub the back of her neck with a lazy grin.

"Sorry Parish, can't exactly help you there. That's your department."

She punctuated her words with a small chuckle, before adding;

"For what it's worth, Scales himself died by bleeding out from two incredibly precise, and powerful wounds that were inflicted on him with a knife. We don't know the exact kind... Yet, but we do know that whosoever it is that we're dealing with, he's incredibly dangerous, AND skilled. Ex-military, if not active, by my assumption. This man not only has zero qualms with killing, he knows exactly how to do it too. Goes without saying, he most likely killed Scales after killing Hotshot, regardless of any arrangement that he might've had with Scales before."

"Hope that helps, Joe. The people are right to panic, if you ask me."

Sighing with a lazy smile for the doctor, Joe pushed himself to stand up straight, as he prepared to leave. Maybe his thoughts weren't born completely of paranoia after all. Perhaps, there were some grains of truth in the 'wild', and 'irrational' theories that kept him up last night.

"Thanks Maggie. We'll make it work. I'll be back if I need you. Whosoever that bastard is, we'll get him... We have to..."

---

Fool me once...​

Two days since the fateful night that set the entire city on fire, Andy fancied himself to be in a really good place indeed. His powers were still a little wonky, but were a tad more responsive since serving him incredibly well at Sapphire Dreams, during Crossbone's 'unveiling'. It was not only the miraculous resistance to the mist, that his body developed as a show of his 'case-sensitive' powers; his hearing had heightened greatly too, after the mist, to facilitate his eavesdropping on the conversation between Marco and Crossbone, while being several feet away, in spite of the pumping sound from the speakers (Crossbone's reputation wasn't easily earned, that was for sure. There was no doubt that he had revived the speakers, to mask his discussion with the new Red Dust boss).


The morning after, was filled with more experiments, and further tests. The experiments were a tad more responsive this time; he was able to stretch on command, at least ten times out of a hundred and half trials. It wasn't exactly what most people would call a success, but for a keen mind like his, the sensations and reflex arcs of every successful stretch, were very useful. He committed everything he could of them to memory. Intent on finding more efficient ways of using his new abilities on command, and not just when he seemed to be in dire need of them. Also on the list, was how to use his powers as ANDY as well as AGONY. Not just the latter. It irked him that only Agony had been having all the 'superpowered' fun so far.

Speaking of which, Agony was still lying dormant. Not that it was much of a big surprise to Andy, who was quickly realizing that Agony's place in his stew of personas, was during the hunt, and moments of madness... or eccentricity, whichever fit the bill. As for Ace and Ash, they were back in some sense, but they weren't talking his ears off just yet. Again, not exactly a surprise, since he had spent the entire morning with a single minded focus on his tests and experiments.

Another helping of the news followed that sequence of actions, and it was still more of the same from yesterday. The fever was still high, the 'intel' on the case, still incredibly thin, and vague as well. The passion though, that was another thing entirely. Every channel, every reporter... Every celebrity and politician that was remotely connected to the Hamptons, and a fair few who had no connections whatsoever. All of them, like army of witches in a Black Mass, swarmed on the hot topic, to air out their 'hot takes'. The scene was heinous, it was barbarous, it was yet another dark blotch on the ever-growing scar that seemed intent on covering the choicest parts of the city's skin. It was a cautionary tale to the little ones; one screaming at them to stay away from drugs, and bars, and hookers... and all the delights of iniquity.

That wasn't all; the 'experts', and the 'correspondents', were in a mad race to paint the clearest, most sensible theory, from the little crumbs that the law enforcement authorities have surrendered to them. Some claimed that it was the beginning of the end for the Red Dust, that there was a new power in town - one that was a force to be reckoned with. Others claimed that there was a shift in power in the leadership of the premier mob. There was one thing that both factions of inaccurate loose cannons had in common though... They all agreed on one thing - as far as the Hamptons, and their relationship with their resident cancer of organized crime was concerned; the devil they knew, was a far better prospect than the emerging, anonymous angel.

"Sacks of farts..."

Andy chuckled to himself when he finally got his fill. Switching off his television, he decided to stroll into his office. With most of his pressing matters attended to, it was only natural for thoughts of his mysteriously enchanting prey, to drift into his mind.

'Boy, as good a fuck as she was, I enjoyed her grunts and screams the most! But, y'all really trust her to behave, do you?'

Swinging the door to his office open, Andy snorted absently, to Ash's rhetoric. Oh well, at least, the freak didn't have that excited and malicious tinge in his tone this time.

'Mhm, what's she gonna do? Run up to the cops? Or run home to mommy and daddy?'

It was a little unconventional for Ash to be the worrier, and Ace, the taunter. Yet, it seemed that the dopamine, and endorphins, that screwing that tempting slut had washed their shared body with, had given them all a bit of a fresh perspective, along with the chill vibes that seemed to permeate their shared headspace at the moment.

With a slight frown, Andy noticed the pair of eternally wrangling voices fall silent again. They still weren't on fully. He was slightly considering launching a small probe, into the effects that his explosive time with his mystery prey, have slammed into headspace. Most notably, how it seemed to affect his lurking faces. They were certainly less talkative, and it was starting to feel like Andy was missing a few limbs; having lived with their incessant background chatter, for so long. For the moment though, Andy shelved that thought. His eyes were on his laptop's screen now, while his mind raced with several ideas on what to purchase along with those spy cameras, to spice up his next visit to his slutty minx.

°-----°

It was late at night again, when Andy decided to show up at his prey's flimsy apartment, in order put her out of the delicious misery of waiting for him; the same misery, that he hadn't had the pleasure of experiencing directly. Unsurprisingly, his powers worked absolutely fine when he opted to use the window in her bathroom; the same one whose already flimsy latch he had made quick work of, during his rounds around the apartment, on the dawn after his sinful dance with her. Although, he had been there earlier in the day - while his prey was absent for whatever reason, to install the spy cameras that he bought, and to ensure that his means of entrance was secure (just in case his prey in the mood to play 'hard to get'), he made a point not to spy on her yet.

He didn't want to ruin whatever surprise it was, that she had lined up for him. It was the same reason why he didn't search her apartment, beyond finding a place to hide his nifty cameras. Which, considering the rather cluttered state of the apartment, wasn't too hard.

He wasn't quite sure what he would be walking into... Climbing into, was more like it. He had simply slid one of the glass squares guarding her window aside, from his position about a floor below - thanks to his stretching arm; then, he had climbed inside. Although, he didn't quite 'catapult' himself forcefully this time. He didn't want to alert her before he was ready to make his presence known to her. He had timed his arrival today, a few minutes after the time that he made his last one. He didn't want to risk the repetitiveness of catching her fresh out of the shower once again.

Agony was still quiet... For now, but Andy could feel him lurking in the shadows; aiding every command he issued to use their powers. Somehow, it was like Agony was encouraging Andy to take the lead for today's hunt. Andy could certainly live with that. Infact, he was thrilled with the opportunity.

Stepping past the old looking shower that stood forlorn in the bathroom, Andy turned behind him, to gently click the glass that he had slid open before, shut. With a few sneaky steps, he made his way out of the bathroom, to the welcoming scent of something... 'apple-centric'. He wasn't exactly a curator for scents, but heaven knows that a fine scent was one of his few weaknesses. Even in spite of the swirling pulses of increased strength that Andy could feel coursing through his veins, courtesy of his silent pact with Agony, he felt himself going slightly weak in the knees. Fine scents were more than just a small weakness for him; when used right, they were an effective way to heighten his mood. Trailing the sweet scent, he found himself floating in an imaginary cloud that led him into his prey's bedroom, where the next batch of surprises awaited him.

"Fuck! Bitch knows her damn scents..."

He chuckled under his breath, as his padding feet led him closer to his goal. Approaching the bed itself, the sexy atmosphere began to reveal itself to him. From the lit candles, to the bottle and glasses of wine on the table. The fake roses on the floor were a touch he wasn't quite expecting, but one that he, being more coolheaded than Agony, could appreciate. He got the idea; with still padding feet, he slowly approached with his towering height, opting not to cloak himself this time. He let his eyes trail the sprinkled flowers that were scattered on the floor, up until they landed on the main prize.

Boy! What a prize it was too!

The outfit, the woman behind it... The heady scents, and the idyllic lighting. The way her thighs, hips, breasts, and skin were sweetly complemented by the incredibly slutty piece. It all created a sweet effect that materialized as a faintly throbbing buzz in the base of Andy's brain. It thrummed sweetly for a few seconds, spreading farther down his spine with each beat. In simple terms, she was breathtaking. She obviously went out of her way to impress him, and she achieved her aim... He was thoroughly impressed. However, it wasn't all because of her artistic flair and salacious dedication, the fact that she had the wit to follow his instructions too, religiously, as well, in spite of the fact that he stood her up last night...

He was definitely keeping her for a while longer.

"Mhmm... Nice touches... I love the scent, the atmosphere too... but most especially... I LOVE your outfit..."

Dropping his stealth now, after his deep, but gentle tone carried clearly enough that she should be able to hear it with ease, Andy made his way confidently, but with some flair of his own, to the bed. Clad in a simple black tee-shirt with short sleeves, the gleam of his leather pants that were suspended by the white cloth belt he had on, were aesthetically matched by the dangling silver cross on his neck, which itself, was suspended by an equally gleaming silver chain. The cross was one of those that were clearly aimed more towards fashion, than religion. With it's broad, spade-shaped arms, and It's somewhat bulky feel, even with the flatness that seemed to be well exaggerated on each of the four elongated parts. The oddly entrancing streak in the middle of his black hair, that was the calling card of his counterpart, Agony, was in place as well. Agony must be really gunning for Andy to 'borrow' him, it seemed. Or maybe, they all subconsciously agreed that Andy was the best man for tonight's hunt; with the seductive overtones, and deadly undertones involved in it.

Closing the distance between them made Andy wonder what her endgame was. He wasn't stupid, and he knew her enough to know that she had something big planned for him. She had to, that was the reason why she stuck out so well to him to begin with; she was incredibly resilient. Settling into the bed as if it was his own, he let his smile darken into a chuckle, as he made an unobtrusive move to wrap her silky, soft hair, into one of his fists. Andy or no, the entity before her was still prone to bouts of sudden explosiveness; yanking back the locks all of a sudden - to force the back of her head to the mattress, he pressed her entire frame into the bed with his own, as he leaned into her. Then, he placed a surprisingly soft kiss on her forehead; letting it linger for a few sweltering seconds, before pressing his nose into her forehead, and dragging it down, all the way to her cleavage with an audibly deep, and prolonged sniff.

Her scent was intoxicating! No doubt, either Ash, or Agony, would've lost control if they were driving. Perhaps, there was a good reason for Agony's silent help. Spraying her cleavage with a torrent of warm needles, he inhaled her scent from the tempting, and overtly sexualized gap for a few more seconds, in total silence; his fists running gently but possessively through her soft hair, while his free hand thrummed 'kitty whispers' into her plush, and highlighted thighs. He listened in silence to any words she offered, and the beating of her heart below her ribcage.

As suddenly as he began though, he released her after a minute or so of the sweet and slightly rough treatment. Smoothly rising from the bed, then swivelling - exposing his back completely to her, as he went for the bottle of wine on the table. In a way, it was almost as if he was daring her to make her move. To highlight this, he took his sweet time; seemingly in no hurry to get to the table, or the glasses and the bottle that was on it.

"Not bad... Keep this up, and you might grow to be called a hag one day..."

Chuckling at his dark comment, he shrugged, then went back to sensually strutting to the table.

 

[TheSluttyBanshee]

The sound of an alarm blaring on her phone awoke her and just like before, Olivia sleepily reached to shut it off. She groaned as the morning sun shone through her window as another day officially passed without any sign of that freak coming for her. Olivia survived another night without accidentally shooting her head off as she was quicker than yesterday to remember the gun under her pillow. Despite being more reactive then yesterday, she moved more sluggishly then yesterday too. Her hand ached from clutching a deadly weapon all night and her body felt heavier than usual. Time moved slower too. Her hand felt like it was taking forever to move no matter how much strength she poured into her hand. Eventually, she was able to sit herself up and pulled her end table open to dump the gun inside of it. It took more effort than it should of to accomplish such a easy task, but it was obvious that last night’s sleep that was no better than just shutting her burning eyes and hoping for the best.

The other night was so easy for her to sleep since she was still exhausted from the night she was attacked, but last night she wasn’t so lucky. She didn‘t have that exhaustion again and at the time, she thought maybe it might of been a good thing. It meant she’d be ready for that freak if he ever showed up, but now she that had the hindsight that he left her alone for another night, she really wished she had exhaustion to help her sleep. Lord knows she was gonna need every second of sleep that she could get if he was really coming back. Now, she had to hope that tonight she’d get another night without him to catch up on the restful sleep she’s lost.

Even if she was tired enough, she wasn’t sure if she ever could of slept last night. She couldn’t stop thinking about him. She ran through her plan a thousand times, memorized all the steps, but just knew that she was riding on luck for this to work. That man wasn’t human. He wasn’t normal. A gun could kill most things, but what if it couldn’t kill him? Maybe he stop bullets or somehow sense what she was about to do and disarm her. The fucker had a dick that could move and change its size, so she was open to anything after seeing something that insane.

Was she doing the right thing? Maybe if she just let him have her and seemed like she was having fun with it, he’d make it easy on her. No…no, her fighting him was what got his rocks off. Still, maybe she was taking things too far with a gun. A bat or crowbar might be more appreciated, but she wasn’t strong or fast enough to make blunt force trauma effective. She couldn’t risk not effectively stunning him enough for her to finish the job. No…a gun was gonna be her best bet. She just had to shoot well or else, he might not like her enough anymore to keep her alive another night. She had to be fast and accurate and pray he gave her the chance to even use it before he’d figured out she had it. Olivia was riding on luck and luck was never in her favor.

Fuck, she was really going to have to kill someone. The realization was sitting in and she suddenly wondered if she was gonna have the nerve to actually do it. Olivia’s seen and been through some shit, but killing someone? That was a new one. Seeing death wasn’t new to her, but she never actually done the killing herself. Her old pimp and “lover” Saw wasn’t scared to shoot someone in front of her if they owed him money and they ran out of chances or caught him on a bad day. And, he sure as hell wasn‘t afraid to turn the gun on her if she ever squealed on him and if she didn’t help him move the bodies into trunk of his car. She knew he owned a building that once belonged to a butcher who went out of business that was left exactly how the old owner har left it. When he told her he needed to visit ‘the butcher shop”, she quickly found out why everyone called him Saw…

Luckily, he never took her to the butcher shop or made her watch his process. Saw was cruel, but he wasn’t cruel enough to make her see that. No, a part of him had a need to protect her from that much, but she’d hardly call it love. He was possessive and protective of her when it came to everyone else. She was his baby, his main bitch, but he wasn’t against the money she pulled selling herself either. It was when men abused her or didn’t pay up that got his blood boiling. At the time, Olivia thought it was because he loved her, but she knew better now. He was just pissed someone broke a part of his merchandise and it was gonna be harder for her to make money with a black eye or a broken finger. She was a stupid girl then. She thought maybe things would get better and she fell in love with him. Olivia thought they’d run away together, start a new life where they could leave all that behind, but it never happened and things just kept getting worse.

She couldn’t take it anymore. The drugs stopped numbing her pain, the beatings he gave her when she didn’t bring in enough money got harder, and he found more reasons to put a gun against her spine to threaten to cripple her for the rest of her life or straight out kill her. He could never decide on which was worse. It was risky, but she wanted to get revenge. Something in her finally snapped and she knew what she had to do. She turned him into the police in exchange for immunity. The cops could of booked her for drug and prostitution charges or even for helping him get rid of bodies, even if it was just to the trunk of his car, but Saw was a bigger fish than her. The cops would give her anything if it meant capturing him and letting his ass rot in jail. They promised her he’d be in jail forever and she’d never have to worry about him again. She didn’t believe them, not even now. He’d get out someday or break out, but she just needed a chance to run before he finally decided to kill her. She was dead either way, but at least she could skip town and hope that he‘d never be able to track her down. She took whatever she could pawn for cash and whatever money Saw had stored away when they took him and ran. She had a chance to survive and so far, that chance was going well…until recently. Now, she had to worry about doing the one thing she avoided having to do all those years with Saw. With someone much more terrifying than him too.

She sighed as she felt her eyes ache and squeezed the bridge of her nose as she tried to will herself to get the strength and energy to feel some ounce of life. Olivia gave herself a few seconds before she muttered to herself, “Alright, come on...” She groaned as she pushed herself off the bed and drug her feet to the bathroom to begin her morning routine.


By the time she got out of the shower and ready for another day at work, Olivia was more awake than before, but her eyes still ached from the lack of proper sleep. Today was gonna be a rough one at work. To make matters worse, she’d have to come home knowing she couldn’t relax. She might be able to squeeze dinner in, but she had a new nightly ritual to maintain. All for a man who may or may not be coming. Her chest tightened as her thoughts turned to him again.

She didn’t know how long she could keep going like this. One night of bad rest was hard enough, but what about tonight or tomorrow night? How long could she go without proper sleep before she starts to lose her mind? Fuck, what was she talking about? She already lost it when that bastard crawled through her window. Still, was this just going to be her burden to bare? Night after night dressing herself up for a man who might never come back? How long could she go without him showing up before she just stops doing it all together? What if the very night he came was the night she decided sleep pants and an oversized shirt was an appropriate outfit idea? What the hell would he do? What if he never came at all and she was wasting all this time and effort on nothing?

Fuck! She nearly punched the wall. Her chest was so tight with a ball of fury squeezing her lungs. She could barely breathe and she just wanted to scream. So, she did…

Olivia grabbed the couch pillow off her couch, pressed it to her face and let out the loudest scream she could make. Her lungs ached and burned from the fury burning their walls as she breathed fire into her pillow. Her eyes watered and ever so slightly, dampened the fabric. She wanted to cry so goddamn badly, but it felt so weak to let it happen. She hated this son of a bitch was getting to her. He was fucking with her head. She wanted to hurt him. She wanted to make him pay for this and that was all the motivation she needed to steel her resolve. If that bastard did come, she was gonna kill him. She was gonna fucking kill him. Either in the sexist lingerie she’s ever owned or in a pair of goddamn sweatpants.

Exhaustion from her anger and scream took its toll on her. She felt dead again as she left her apartment and locked the door behind her. Mark was no where in sight again, thank god. However, she wasn’t gonna take her time getting to the nearest bus stop either in case the creepy neighbor decided to surprise her at the last second.

The bus was just as uneventful as usual. She wasn’t the only dead soul upon the bus. The woman beside her was scrolling through the news on her phone and Olivia couldn’t help herself to peek at the screen from the corner of her eye. The woman anxiously bit her nail as she read about Hotshot’s murder. Something that clearly weighed heavily on her mind and Olivia wasn’t much better. From what she could see, there were no public updates on the case that the initial report hadn’t already said. The police weren’t giving anything away yet, but Olivia feared she already knew who their perpetrator was. She looked away from the article quickly. Her stomach couldn’t handle it if they gave away the gruesome details further down the post. She didn’t need to know the things he did to people. What he might do to her if she didn’t make him happy or killed him. The last thing she wanted right now was to get a glimpse of what he was capable of doing if he wanted her dead…

When she walked through the door of her job, Jane was quick to greet her again as she usually did, but her usual smile was quickly replaced with a concerned smile. “Oh dear, you look as tired as I did the first week Simon was born. Did you get any sleep?”

Olivia chuckled and shook her head, “Not a wink. I don’t think so at least, it doesn’t feel like it if I did.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to come in if you’re too tired, hun.“

”No, no. Being here is better for me than my apartment right now.” Olivia realized her words might of caused Jane to worry even more, so she quickly acted, “My neighbors are so loud sometimes that I need to be in a quiet place like this for a few hours or else I’m gonna blow up on them.“ She laughed it off with a convincing smile.

Jane chuckled back, “Well, luckily you won’t have to deal with them anymore with your new apartment. Just don’t push yourself too hard today, okay?”

Olivia smiled, “Of course, but first I think I’m gonna grab some coffee…”


The chance to focus on work was exactly what she needed to clear her head. Her job was easy and tedious, but just challenging enough to keep her mind off of her home troubles. She just had to double check that the numbers were right before sending them off. The shitty coffee from the break room tasted especially horrible today, so it perked her up enough to make it through her day without falling asleep at her desk. When it was time to head home, Olivia gathered her things and she got ready for her bus ride home.

The entire bus ride and walk back to her apartment had Olivia anxious. Her hands held onto the strap of her purse tightly and her leg shook when she sat as the thought of going home filled her with dread. She wished she never had to go back there. That she had some friends or family she felt safe running away to. The closest to a friend or family she had was Jane and she sure as hell wasn’t going to risk her entire family just to protect herself. No, she had a feeling this guy would find her if he ever figured out she tried to run away from him. She couldn’t risk putting Jane and her family at risk, especially when children would be endangered. She doubted that freak had a code of honor and had a personal vow to never harm a kid. The fucker would probably love to traumatize a child if he didn’t out right kill them. She just couldn’t risk it. She had no choice but to return to that hellish apartment she once took pride and comfort in.

Luck had been on her side once more as she reached her apartment and unlocked the door. Mark was missing again and Olivia truly didn’t know how lucky she was. She kicked off her shoes and immediately went to work on her nightly ritual. She made herself a quick cup of instant ramen for dinner before she undressed and hopped into another shower. Once her shower wrapped up, she went through the usual blow dry for her hair, brushed her teeth again, and ensured every hair was place and any that needed to be removed was promptly shaved off. Olivia never cared for herself so intensively before, but she had good reason to. If he came tonight, she had to be perfect.

Just like any other night so far, Olivia lit her apple scented candle, the same unopened bottle of wine with two glasses placed together, rose petals placed intentionally, and she was dressed in the same lingerie she used for pajamas for two nights now. She took the gun from her end table, checked it to make sure it was loaded, and slipped it under her pillow. Now…all she had to do was wait and see.



Time passed as slowly as ever, Olivia became very familiar with the details of her window and the wall it was placed upon. She knew when the slightest movement were caused by her curtains and no longer jumped thinking she saw a hand creeping up open the window. In all actuality, he could come from anywhere, but she expected this window to be his entrance of choice. It was romantic that he’d use the same window he first visited her with to visit her again for a night of romantic twisted fun. She stared so intently at the window that she didn’t even notice that he was already here, peering at her, and her examining her efforts.

The sound of his voice startled her. Her eyes snapped from the window to the man standing in her door. His face…that same fucking face. Olivia struggled not to instinctively pull the gun from her pillow and spoil the surprise as she shot up, but thankfully, she had enough control to stop the instinct before it was too late. She looked at him like she was genuinely surprised he even came. She expected maybe a few more days at least before he‘d actually make an appearance, but he came so much sooner than that. Suddenly, she was thankful she never went through with her sweatpants idea, but now she had to actually go through the plan she spent so many hours replaying frame by frame in her head.

She thought he might get a kick out of her surprise and shock, so it let it take its natural course before his words clicked. Olivia changed her expression to give him the most convincing fake flirty smile she had mastered from her street days. “You do? Perfect, I spent hours in that store trying to find the perfect one for you.” She spoke carefully, making sure her voice didn’t come off excited or overly happy to see him. She didn’t want to seem too enthusiastic or else he’d get suspicious. She remained calm and measured how much of her voice came out and gave it just a hint of her flirty charm to seem pleased to see him again.

She shamelessly glanced at the outfit he wore tonight. Olivia playing it off as her checking him out, but really she was studying him. She was trying to read his body language, see if he had any weapons on him he intended to use on her to prolong her suffering, and most of all, finding any potential weaknesses in him. She had a sense of disgust seeing that a cross hung around his neck. Olivia wasn’t a believer herself, but the fact he wore it almost felt like a mockery to the god she didn’t believe in and somehow almost felt offended on his behalf. She doubted he followed in the lord’s footsteps either, but rather wore it as a fashion statement. She hated to admit it, but he was more handsome than she remembered him. Maybe it was because he looked almost…normal this time and it made her see features of his that a sadistic grin or snarl had hidden from her. Admittedly, the romantic atmosphere wasn’t doing her any favors either. The lightning made him look so inviting and she had to force herself to remember what he was capable of doing. His handsome looks matched his sadistic pleasure to hurt. Her body ached slightly remembering his hurtful hand. How he made her ache, scream, and cry so horribly sweet. Now that he was here, her body was tense both from fear…and need.

“You don’t look half bad either. I forgot how handsome you can be when you aren’t trying to kill me,” She joked, deciding he might appreciate it. He seemed like the kind of guy who enjoyed dark humor, even from his own victims.

She knew he wasn’t stupid. Her effort, her charm, her causal approach to a murderer in her apartment…it wouldn’t be long before he figured out her game. She had to decide quick when she wanted to shoot him, but she also had to be patient and wait for the perfect chance. She only got one surprise shot, so she had to make it count.

Olivia couldn’t help tensing as he sat on her bed. This thing was capable of anything. As far as she knew, this casual approach could turn deadly. A simple touch could become a deadly one. Her only saving grace was the fact he seemed to like playing with his food before going in for the kill. He seemed like the kind of psycho that wanted to savor his kills. She didn’t know how much pain she might experience by the end of the night, but it meant she’d still had a chance to make it out of this…albeit a very small one at that. Olivia tried to breathe slowly to calm her racing heart and thoughts. She had to keep a clear head or try to at least. There was no telling what her reaction will be when her life is endangered, but right now, she had control over herself and she had to take advantage of it. His chuckled filled her chest with dread, but she refused to let her mind wonder about what dark and twisted thoughts he had to cause such an ugly sound. The sight of his hand as it came towards her made her tense again and her heart raced once more, but she stayed still and just breathed. Even as his hand wrapped her silken hair in his grip, she didn’t move. Her eyes were more scared than before, betraying the fear building in her chest with each strand of hair that found its way around his fist. Yet, an all too familiar and more interesting reaction lingered in those frightened eyes: excitement.

“Ahhh!” Olivia half moaned and half cried as a familiar searing pain shot through her scalp as her head was forced back. Redness covered her cheeks as her head met her mattress again with a balled fist for a pillow. Her hands fell and gripped her sheets on either side of her shoulders as her chest rose in fell with heated breathes as the pain triggered a fire between her legs and deep in her core. She looked up to see him looming over her, his body trapping her’s to the bed. Her eyes looked up with fear, but with a look of need he’s seen once before. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped her sheets tighter upon seeing how he lowered his face to her forehead. She closed her eyes as her breathing picked up with anticipation of his next move. Olivia was expecting pain and braced herself for it, but she was stunned by a shockingly sweet kiss to her forehead instead. Her eyes opened and while he couldn’t see them, confusion consumed her gaze. The kiss was shockingly sweet and soft. He lingered for several long seconds and made her feel the warmth of his lips in the way a lover might kiss her. His nose pressed into her forehead to replace his lip’s heat as Olivia laid beneath him, terrified of this sweetness more than his cruelty.

The warmth, the tenderness…Olivia felt herself thirst for more, but she dreaded where this tenderness stemmed from. Was he going to be even crueler tonight than he was two nights ago? Was he trying to get her guard down? She didn’t know what this game was, but it made her long for more of it. As if to welcome him, her chest rose off the mattress as she felt his nose fall from her forehead to her enticing cleavage. Goosebumps grew on her as she could feel and hear him taking a long, deep sniff against her skin. The fire between her legs grew as he awakened a deeper, primal instinct with a simple gesture. Her sweet scent filling his lungs as his breath made her feel his lungs greedily sucking in her scent as if to memorize it. His hands were so gentle, but possessive in a way that just turned her on that much more. She hadn’t felt so wanted, so needed, in ages. Her legs welcomed him by spreading for him as one knee hugged his hips with a silent invitation to explore her further while the other leg spread further for his exploring hand. Her inner thigh adored the attention of his hand and it wasn’t long before her pussy ached in need of his attention. Her lips tingled in jealousy of her thigh and her insides begged to be opened and explored. He did so little to her, but already a dark, wet spot was forming against her panties. Olivia was so intoxicated and the air was so heavy that she could hardly breathed. She was completely and utterly consumed in him and the heat between them that all memories of her hatred, her survival, and her plan to kill him were forgotten.

She spoke little, but she did let him hear her pleasure thus far in soft, little appreciative moans that already grew thick with need. Her hips wiggled slightly into the bed to signal to him that she wanted him to touch her more. Just in case the signal was lost on him though, she let her voice carry her desire, “Touch me…ahhh…fuck, you’re making me wet…”

However, as suddenly as he intoxicated her, the man released her and swiveled to show her his back. A disappointed whine fell from her lips as her skin already missed his hands and oppressive body looming over her. Her eyes struggled to open as a fog made her slow and stupid until she realized she had it…an opening.

Memories he’d stolen from her shot back into her and she suddenly remembered the gun. Part of her was tempted to wait and have her fun with him before she pulled it out, but she knew that was just her lust getting the better of her. He made her so hot and wet that she‘d wouldn’t be strong enough to stop him, but instead, he took advantage of her wine offering and gave her a opening a clearer mind needed to take advantage of. She might never get this chance again and he proved how easy it was for him to get her to forget the plan she rehearsed thousands of times. He knew just how to seduce her and she couldn’t forget what horrors he was capable of doing. The punches, the taunting, the pain he inflicted on her…Hotshot...

No…no! She wasn’t gonna end up like her. She refused to let that be her fate and refused to let this bastard have another chance to distract her. She refused to be an easy kill for him. If she was gonna die tonight, she wanted to be able to say she died fighting.

He took his sweet time and kept his eyes completely off of her. Olivia shifted on the bed, but tried to make it seem natural as she sat up and reached under her pillow. She joined in on his chuckle from his dark comment and used her voice to hide any sound her hand wrapping around the gun and slowly pulling it out from under the pillow might cause. “That’s a nice thought, but it’s mean to give a girl false hope,” She replied with her own dark comment and followed it with her own chuckle, trying to be as playful as ever as she pulled the gun up to her lap.

Olivia scooted up to him and let her arm wrap around his shoulder. She hummed happily as if being close to him made her happy and she kissed underneath his ear. She hummed softly as her left hand slowly lifted the gun off her lap and pointed it at his back. She pressed her lips into his neck, kissing him like any lover would. The barrel of the gun inched closer and closer. She aimed for the side that she knew his dead heart somehow kept beating was housed. “By the way, I never learned your name. I think it’s only fair that I know who‘s name I’ll be screaming tonight…” She whispered seductively into his ear. But, only a second or two would pass before Olivia closed her eyes as she braced herself and pulled the trigger.

 

[Deranged]

With his back turned to the woman whose house he was invading, Andy's mind fell to tingling with a million and one thoughts. He was really wondering what sneaky move the voluptuous minx had lined up for him. He wondered if she had a gun hidden somewhere, one that she planned to spring on him when he least expected it. It would make sense; considering that she must've realized by now, that her physical prowess was sorely no match for his masochistic, inhuman levels of endurance. As he thought about that though, he couldn't help but remember the relish that coated her face in the moments when she swung one bitter, busted, and bleeding fist, at him, after the other. She seemed to be a secret sadist. He could tell that the feelings of invigoration and power that coursed through her veins in those hot and sweaty moments, were alien to her. With that in mind, it wouldn't be out of place at all, for her to be looking to relive some of those swelling moments, by opting for a melee approach.

What would it be then? A baseball bat? A knife? Hammer? Crowbar?... His mind was racing, and it was not difficult for his feet to maintain their tantalizing slide over the carpeted floor to get to the table, that wasn't too far off his location in reality. He really appeared to be floating on his feet; wading gracefully like a swan that was floating in a serene pond. He had no reason to rush. He had to allow his voluptuous vixen the chance to finish cooking up whatever sweet surprise she must've been scheming, prior to his arrival. It was not that the haze of hunger and stupid, slutty lust that washed over her when he wrapped his fist around her hair were lost on him. No, infact, they were very hard to miss. From the twinkling sparks of fear and excitement that washed over her glittering eyes as he loomed over her, to the sweet gasp of shock and muted pleasure that flowed out of her throat when he pressed her into the cushion of her mattress with his looming weight.

He knew that he had her right then and there, even before she began to press those alluringly soft mounds of hers into his chest, while letting off those pleasant, hot, little whimpers and moans. He was perfectly aware that he could've easily imposed his will completely on her then and there; he could've taken every single ounce of carnal and sadistic pleasure that he desired from her wanton body, and it wouldn't even be rape on a technical basis. No... It was as clear as the hazy words that she washed his ear with, while one of her legs made to lock him on top of her. However, the rote and mundane... The predictable. They never succeeded in keeping his interest for too long. The slutty vixen behind him had shown him that she was capable of great feats under the right conditions, and with the right stimulation. He had no intention of having her prostitute her talents and potential by going down the rote path of the thirsty, stupid, whore. No... He knew that she was capable of much more, and that was the reason why he was pleased with his decision to keep her alive. He wanted to see what he could make of her, and her repressed, extreme impulses and tendencies, outside her overt sluttiness.

When her first statement since he made her drunk with lust registered with him, he couldn't help the dark grin that painted his lips. She was witty and sarcastic when she wanted to be. Those two attributes of hers, balanced the compliant and stupid nature that her lust-drunk state was apt to fill her with, perfectly. She was impressing him tonight, that was for sure, and it sure as hell wasn't all because of her slutty, breathtaking appearance, alongside the sexy atmosphere that was making all the sweet vibes that registered with Andy, three notches sweeter. He chose to say nothing in response, but he couldn't help but chuckle a little. He would let her enjoy that much for her efforts.

He heard her rise from the sheets to scoot up to him, and felt his shoulders tingle with the excitement that he derived from his anticipation. Her big reveal was coming, and he really couldn't wait to experience it. Still though, he kept up his swan walk until he arrived at the table, where he picked the bottle to fill a glass, just as one of her arms snaked over his shoulder, to tickle his neck. The sweet sensations of her forearm rubbing against the sensitive skin of his neck, was a heady background to the taste of the wine that coated his tongue, after he sipped from the glass that he had brought up to his lips earlier. The wine tasted just good enough to not come off as being fancy, which was something he actually enjoyed. Of course, it helped a lot that her slutty voice hummed against his back, while that teasing forearm continued to send a million shivers up his spine.

Boy! She had potential!

His second sip of wine was highlighted by the feeling of her lips on his skin. Even if he wanted to, he had no doubt that he would fail to stop himself from closing his eyes to savor the taste of the wine, in the wake of the tingling waves that her kiss aroused. Again, it was a very delicious experience; either she was learning quick and unconsciously, or was a little more than the thirsty slut that she undeniably was, when it came to true seduction. The combination of her hums and kisses were working incredibly well for him, so that he found himself refilling his glass before he knew it, and chuckling darkly to her seductive antics. When she finally asked for his name, ensuring to add a very meaningfully delicious quip, that had more weight than she might've imagined on spilling it, Andy leaned into her, enjoying the plushness of her breasts against his back, while unleashing a soft hum of his own.

BANG!

It echoed against the walls, and inside Andy's brain; but most especially, it thrashed violently against Andy's wickedly beating heart, that refused to stop for anything above a single second, before starting a new rhythm; one that was stirring, powerful, and quick enough to have him panting.

"FuUUuuCk!..."

It was an undulating whisper with two crests and a through. His breaths continued to wheeze and pant, while an exquisite explosion of pain washed against his entire frame. The epicenter of the explosion was his now rapidly beating heart; the intensity and quality of the sensations that rocked him, forced him to press his right palm into his chest. He could feel the hammering pulse that he had worked up against his the palm, and wasn't surprised a few short moments later, when he began to sweat. As usual, even in spite of the explosive, and most likely amplified pain that registered with him, there wasn't even a drop of blood his blood spilt from the incredibly close-range shot. Andy was still alive; very much so.

"Oooh, you crazy little piece of fuckmeat!..."

Like a ghost, he used her dread and hesitation to come to terms with the consequences of her daring actions, to mask his rapid but quiet movements. He had caught a glimpse of her while he made the smooth, and crisp turn that whipped him around, so that their positions were reversed, and he was the one looming over her from behind. He had found her eyes squeezed shut, which was perfect for what he had in mind. At a blurry and precise pace, his free hand - the one that wasn't holding the drink that miraculously remained in his grasp - snaked over her trigger-arm. He quickly snaked one of his long and slender fingers into the trigger hole, and with it, he wrestled her finger off the trigger, then pressed it against the frame of the trigger hole; ensuring that she wouldn't be firing another quick shot in shock, that may hit something that wouldn't heal for a change. In other words, herself.

When he was confident that he had successfully wrestled her trigger-arm under his control, he mirrored her move from earlier, by looping his other arm over her left shoulder. He let it hang down, and press her into his looming, and slightly arching frame, as he chuckled just behind her ears. This went on for a few moments, with his face inching closer to the back of her neck. However, that wasn't the only subtle movement going on; with her trigger-arm locked firmly under his grasp, he was able to execute the business-end of his latest move, smoothly. Just as slowly and teasingly as he approached her hair and the back of her neck with his face and the tickling breaths exiting his nostrils, he slowly, but firmly, manipulated her trigger-arm, and the gun it bore, to coast through the smooth skin of her taut belly. He made sure that the barrel was pointed downwards, towards her feet. As the seconds creeped by though, and his incessant chuckles continued to swell, it became apparent that it was not her feet that he planned to play Russian roulette with.

"Now... Don't make any hasty movements, darling..."

Grunting in gratification, as the barrel popped through the restrictive band of her garter, he hissed an evil laugh into the back of her neck, pressing his nostrils against it to slowly and audibly inhale her intoxicating scent after that. He maneuvered the gun and her arm, until the cold tip of the barrel was nestled snuggly inside her restrictive thong... Barely a few millimeters away from a certain hood of skin and nerves, and the incredibly erogenous inhabitant residing in it.

"What a coincidence. Apparently, we were thinking about the same thing, you see?"

Sliding the base of the glass of wine in his free hand over the hilly slope of her chest, he traced a jagged line of slightly digging, partly scraping pressure, with the glass, up till when he slid it over the wrist of her free arm. Nudging her with his shoulder, he wriggled the partially filled glass into her grasp.

"Be a doll and hold this for me, will ya? I've got an interesting surprise for you..."

Digging his chin into the nook of her right shoulder while he spoke, he made sure to convey it in his voice that he wasn't necessarily issuing a polite request. He expected the glass that he had forced into her hand to stay there, and it's contents to remain intact. His now free hand couldn't resist; it slithered up her tummy, after grazing past her ribs, then proceeded to squeeze and roll the alluringly presented mounds that her slutty piece did justice to, in no small measure. After a few seconds of rolling and squeezing them - making sure to avoid her nipples completely - with a dark chuckle playing on his lips, he finally let his hand snake down till it brushed the top parts of her thigh, where it completely left her body after that, in order to dig into his pocket.

"Bullets... Am I right? Silly, thrilling little things..."

His nose was now arching directly over her neck; taking deep, audible sniffs whenever he wasn't speaking. Like this, he closed his eyes, letting her tantalizing scent, and the airs of her dread lull him into a heightened state of sadistic pleasure. After trailing a possessively gentle path into her thong, his once free hand joined the other one that was locking the gun and her trigger arm in place over her clitoral hood. It sure was getting crowded in there...

"See, I brought my own bullet to play with. Can you confirm?..."

While speaking, he let his nostrils trail up her neck, till his lips were brushing softly against her left earlobe, while he washed it with a sick and depraved, but soft chuckle. It was his turn to show her the dividends of his preparations before their meeting. He had ended up deciding to order a bullet vibrator to go with the spy cameras. He wasn't too particular, or knowledgeable on the brands for obvious reasons, but he had the words of the delivery guy, and the toy's plush and sleek design, to reassure him that he had gotten one that was fit for his nefarious purposes. The young man had given him a wink, while handing over the box; "Careful with this one sir, I used it to make my girlfriend stupid on the night of her birthday this year. Really, I did!"

The intricate pulses that were already being thrummed against his fingers was a good indicator too. Even with his eyes closed, his admirable knowledge of human anatomy, especially the female erogenous zones, ensured that he didn't have a hard time placing, then pressing the pulsing head of the toy to the hood that he found to be twitching slightly already, even before he pressed the vibrating toy to it. Perhaps, it was her fear, and the chilling realization that she had the cold barrel of a live and loaded gun, barely a hair's breadth away from such a dear appendage. What was worse? His finger, having wrestled her trigger finger in order to press it rigidly against the frame of the trigger hole, was in prime position to pull the thing whenever he pleased, with very little she could do to stop it.

"I've always wanted to incorporate toys into my repertoire... Y'know? Adds that edge of flexibility and invention to the mix... But I'm sure that you know that already, don't you? Horny slut like you has got to have a good collection of toys, am I right?"

He planned to have the toy work her up a good deal, which, considering it's rather mild speed at the moment, would take a little bit of time. Andy decided to fill out that time, by nibbling, and licking on the tender flesh of her ear; letting off deep rumbles of assertion every other moment while it went on, and listening intensely to her vocalizations. It had taken him this long to realize that he had been sporting a tent inside his crotch ever since she let fly with her gun to his back. It was thanks to a stray wiggle of his hips against the plush cushions of her ass, that made him realize it. Chuckling yet again, he decided to take advantage of his latest discovery. Pressing and positioning the swollen ridge of his crotch into the hot and soft cushion between her succulent cheeks, he moaned hotly into her hair, just as he lifted the vibrator off her clit, and began the torturously slow process of sliding it into her slit.

"I'm sure you've had many of these types of bullets in that sweet trap of yours in the past... But what about the type of bullet that you gave me?..."

Placing a hard kiss on the back of her neck, he discreetly managed to push the button that would crank up the toy's ministrations a notch, then pushed the toy itself, further in, by a few more millimeters, inside her slit. That wasn't all, he also let the finger that was trapping her trigger finger against the frame of the trigger hole, slip off completely. Instead, he made it press the knuckle of her trigger finger against the frame; effectively offering it freedom within the trigger hole, but no access to slip out of it. It was all for a good reason too.

"Lemme explain... We're gonna play a little game, bitch. I'm gonna test your slut credentials, and how well you can work under pressure..."

He pushed the toy about halfway through now, and gave the right part of her neck this time, another daunting kiss with some heat and feeling. He was obviously enjoying the feeling of hotdogging her through his crotch, however, he remained as calm as he had been since he entered.

"I'm gonna leave your trigger happy finger dangling in the trigger hole, with the gun pointed right in front of your wriggling, slutty button... Just the right place to have it send a stinging and different type of bullet into it, than the ones you're used to..."

"So don't get too excited now... Or you could. It would be fun to find out what a real bullet does down there, won't it?..."

Suddenly, he pushed the remaining half of the vibrator in, all the way, with a more audible chuckle of mischief. Using both of his arms, he pressed her against him even harder, and intentionally made his cock twitch against the hot cleft between her ass.

"And so it begins, my little slut... You weren't the only one who came here with a plan. Did I mention that it would earn you a bonus round if you dropped my drink?"

Without warning, he clamped his lips against the base of the right side of her neck, where it joined with her shoulder. He had barely sucked hard on it - enough to live a hickey - for a second, when he delivered a sudden, sharp bite that ended just as quickly. He was really going to push her this time. He was excited! Like the unorthodox kiss, the nip was hard and sharp; no doubt, just barely beneath what would draw blood, if it didn't do so.
When he raised his head to breathe down the back of her neck again, amidst the deep sniffs he couldn't resist whenever his nose was close to her silky hair, he added one last statement, as he prepared to start the deadly, but in his opinion, incredibly erotic game, properly.

"By the way, Cupcake. You can call me Agony... What can I call you?..."

 

[TheSluttyBanshee]

BANG!

An ear piercing ring shot through her ears and straight into her head. Her head instantly began to pound as the ring cut through her skull and struck her brain. Her eyes were closed so tightly that the muscles in her throat muted her voice. The sound of the gun was familiar to her, but enough time had passed that she forgot just how loud they really were in a closed space. The gun kicked in her hand as the bullet shot out of the barrel and into the back of the man to pierce his heart. The kick was strong enough that her hand ached from the impact and she nearly lost control of it, but her hand quickly caught onto her mistake and squeezed tight enough to keep the gun from slipping out of her hand. Seconds felt like an eternity and Olivia didn’t realize that she stopped breathing until she heard the sickening sound of the man’s drawn out swear.

No…no…dear god, no…

He shouldn’t be able to do that. He shouldn’t be able to talk at all. He should be dead! The second the bullet struck his heart, he should have fell from her arms, and bled out on the floor, but the fucking bastard was still standing! She was terrified to open her eyes, but air suddenly shot into her lungs as she felt her body shake and panic began to set in. Her breathes shook and filled with fragments of her voice as she realized that not even a bullet to the heart could stop him. Despair filled her so quickly that she couldn’t breathe. Her lungs squeezed by vines to suffocate her and make her throat burn like red hot claws tore down the walls of her throat. She hurt him and from the sound of it, she hurt him badly, but it wasn’t enough. His heart was still fucking beating even with a bullet inside it. She should of aimed for the head…

Olivia swore under her breath as tears welled in her eyes. The stress and dread were too much to bear. She was a fucking coward. She was so scared to kill someone that she messed up her one shot. She should have shot the bastard in his head! She should have just fucking shot him in the head! This son of a bitch was evil and she still was too much of a pussy to aim in the one place that even undead monsters couldn’t survive. Now, she had to deal with the consequences of what she did and Olivia never felt so terrified in her life. The bastard was horrifying enough when fists were her only means of defense, but she just tried to fucking shoot him. This was it…she was going to die. She failed and she was going to suffer for it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” She swore to herself as panic weighted her voice down and made her breaths shake as he spoke a full sentence this time. Her eyes were wet with the beginnings of tears.

Shoot him again!

Her dread would be her undoing. Instead of using the chance she had to take advantage of his pain tearing through his heart to fix her aim and shoot the bastard in the back of the head, she hesitated too long. He already moved before she even had the chance to pull the trigger again a second time. He slipped out of her arms so easily that she hadn’t realized what he did before it was too late. Her eyes opened and a scared gasp escaped her, but his free hand snaked around her and his finger slithered into the trigger hole to join her finger inside. She didn’t have enough time to react and his finger easily wrestled hers away from the trigger and against the frame, ensuring she wouldn’t get a second chance easily.

Olivia tensed tightly as he took one of her moves and used it against her. His arm draped around her left shoulder and she was made to feel him loom over her. She was frozen in fear. Her hands shaking with the gun only remaining steady because the stranger’s hand kept it still. A chill shot down her spine as he chuckled near her ear and made her gasp in fear. Her heart pounded so hard in her chest that she thought it burst out of her chest. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as she could feel his face leaning in closer, but even worse was his hand forced her trigger-arm to move. She tried to push back against his arm, but he was so strong that she might as well do nothing at all. Immediately, she thought he was going to make her lift the gun up and point it directly up against the underside of her jaw, but he had something much worse in mind. Goosebumps lined her skin as she felt his breath against the back of her neck, all while she watched in horror as he made her press the hot barrel of the gun against her taut stomach and ensured it pointed towards her feet. For a moment, she dreaded that he was going to make her shoot herself in the foot to bring a metaphor to life, but her eyes widened as she realized she wouldn’t be that lucky. Her breathes became louder with her voice cracking through them as his chuckles built into something sick and evil.

“No…” She whispered in protest as if she had any choice in what was happening just as he warned her not to make any hasty moves. Her heart beat so hard that she was sure he could feel it through her back. His grunt was paired with her scared gasp as the barrel of the gun popped through the band of her garter. She shuddered as she felt the already tight garter squeeze her waist so tight that her muscles ached in protest of the sudden pressure. Her back arched as another chill shot through her spine as she could both feel and hear the sound of him smell her fear. She reeked of fear and with a candle that made the air smell of apples, she unintentionally created a scent worked like pheromones to any psycho killer. Her voice whimpered as she felt him smoothly force the barrel of the gun in her thong. “Oh, god…please…” She closed her eyes tight again as her throat ached from the tight muscles restricting her voice. She shook in fear as she felt the barrel of the gun nearly meet the most horrifying spot he could think of. Even with her eyes closed, the hot metal of the gun nearly meeting her clit made her hips tense as her insides squeezed together tightly. A strange and terrifying reaction as she felt an all too familiar and shameful electric tingle between her legs. The gun’s target buzzed to life and began to engorge as if the gun wasn’t a deadly machine capable of indescribable pain, but something else thick, hard, and hot she’s enjoyed in the past.

His comment about them having the same idea confused and frightened her. At first, she thought he meant that he brought a gun of his own, but she quickly dismissed that idea. No, even if he was a master at hiding a gun where she couldn’t see it, he wasn’t the kind of guy who liked guns to do his work for him. He wanted it to be personal. Guns didn’t have the same kick a knife or even a hand could have. No, he meant something else…but what?

Olivia bit her lip as she found the base of his wine glass against her breasts. Maliciously, he still held onto his glass this entire time and she was made to feel its smooth, rounded end gently scrape against her skin. Her chest rose and fell with rapid, frightened breaths. She bit her lip a little harder as she could feel him guide the glass towards her free hand and she pieced together what he planned to ask her before he got to ask it. Whether she wanted to hold it or not, she didn’t have a choice. He already wiggled the glass into her grasp and she certainly didn’t have the room to say ”no” to him when he had a gun pressed near her clit.

Her eyes opened just to glare at him from the corner of her eye as she wrapped her fingers around the thin neck of the glass. The wine started to ripple as her hand shook and she could feel the strength in her fingers drain. The weight of the wine inside felt heavy and burdensome, but one wrong move and he might just pull the trigger to the gun in her panties…

She glared at him again as he mentioned a surprise and felt her stomach twist in knots. What kind of sick surprise did he have in store for her?

She hissed slightly as his chin dug into the nook of her right shoulder as she was forced to sit still and let him show her his surprise. She was as stiff as a board and tried to ignore the cooling metal in her panties, but his free hand took advantage of its new availability to slither up her stomach like a serpent. Her breath hitched as she felt him graze her ribs as he reached up to fill his hand with her beautifully presented breast. She tried to hold back the sounds building in her throat as his hand rolled and squeezed her breasts with a practiced hand, but she could only hold back so much. He intentionally avoided giving her nipples any attention through her lingerie, but it didn’t stop how her skin adored the attention and made the tingle between her legs more active. His dark chuckle made her glare at the wall in front of her as she bit her lip as she felt his hand on her thigh. She felt a need to spread her legs further apart of him and even press her ass into him out of instinct, but she refused to move with a gun firmly fixed against her pussy. She didn’t want to give him a reason to pull the trigger…

Olivia swallowed as she could feel and hear him taking in deep breaths of her scent when he wasn’t talking about bullets. She didn’t put two and two together as she felt sick to her stomach finding his need to take in her alluring scent enticing. She should have been disgusted or creeped out, but she couldn’t help how his need to take her in made her feel excited. Even the sensation of his hand gently and possessively trailing along her panties made her feel oddly wanted and sexy. Had a gun not been pressed towards her hooded clit, it might have been the most romantic night she ever had. His second hand joined the first and the gun in her panties. She closed her eyes to try to steady her breath as she feared what else he had to torment her pussy with. Her racing thoughts hadn’t put together what he already hinted was in his hand as her fear made her slow.

Chills ran up her spine and she let out a heated breath as she felt his nostrils trail up her neck. Her spine tingled as she felt his lips near her lobe and she could feel her ear painfully ache with electricity as she was forced to listen to his depraved chuckle. Her eyes would shoot wide open as she felt something smooth and soft suddenly pulse against her clit. “Ahh!” The moan shot out of her so quickly that she didn‘t have time to stifle just how excited it sounded. Her already shaking hand grew more unsteady causing the wine inside the glass to ripple harder to show her visitor just how much his victim was struggling. Suddenly, her brain clicked together everything he said.

Bullets…he brought a fucking sex toy with him.

Had there not been a gun in her panties, she might of praised him for being adventurous so early into their little rendezvous, but this wasn’t a playful lover. This was a sadistic beast who decided a gun was just the thing his victim needed to get her wet for him. What’s worse…he wasn’t wrong.

By the time he pressed the bullet against her clit, it was already beginning to swell. Her sex’s response to having the cold barrel of a gun so close to her clit was to make itself wet as if her arousal could appeal to it. The very tip of the barrel was a tad wetter than before it found its way into her pussy. She was made painfully aware of how he rendered her finger completely useless. She couldn’t fight her way out of his pin and even if she tried to, she was terrified of accidentally forcing his finger against the trigger. He could shoot her whenever he wanted. One wrong move, one wrong word, and she’d experience agony that could only be described as hell. Olivia didn’t doubt that he would do it in an instant either. If he really was the one responsible behind Hotshot’s death, then there was nothing stopping him from making an everyday person experience pure agony.

“Fa-fuck you…” She hissed under her breath at his comment about her sex toy collection, her voice heavy as she could feel moans building in her throat. She glared at her from the corner of her eye, but no matter how hateful her gaze looked, it didn’t stop how effective his methods were against her.

Her hips struggled and shook as she fought back the urge to buck up against the bullet buzzing against her clit. Her knees ached and she could feel them wanting to buckle under the bullet’s attack. Her hand gripped the neck of the wine glass so tight her knuckles went white and she feared the glass would shatter under her grip. Her damp pussy was forced into getting wetter for him. The attention to her clit triggering a reaction that even a gun couldn’t prevent. Her chest rose and fell in rapid breaths that her moans leaked into. She was trying to hide them, but between the bullet on her clit and his decision to aid her by nibbling and licking her sensitive ear lobe. “Ahhh! Fa-fuck…” She whimpered as her thighs naturally opened, but were too scared to fully part since anything could have caused him to decide he was done playing with her and pull the trigger. What she couldn’t stop was how her back arched when she felt him press the tent in his pants against her ass. Her hips faltered and rolled back into his bulge. The gun didn‘t seem to scare her hips as badly when there was a hard cock pressed into her plush ass cheeks, but he’d feel her stiffen as if she expected a punishment for her weakness. His moan against her ear forced her own to join him as she couldn’t resist the siren song of a man’s moan, especially one so close to her ear. The added movement made the wine in the glass slosh inside as small waves clashed against the glass walls, but not nearly enough to risk a drop escaping from inside.

She visibly stiffened and fear flashed in her eyes as he asked if she ever had the kind of bullet she gave him inside her before. Her voice even squeaked with a mouse-like fear before her throat tightened to cut of her voice. Intense fear shot through her as she nearly expected his finger to squeeze the trigger with those words, but she never felt his finger shift or even twitch.

Her eyes closed as she bit her lip as she felt him press a hard kiss on the back of her neck. Her knees shook as the kiss made an instinctive submissive need boil inside her and rendered her completely vulnerable to the bullet slipping into her slit. She gasped sharply feeling him feeding her the bullet. Though her walls haven’t felt it yet, they flexed hard enough that he could feel her want through the bullet. The second his trigger finger started to move, Olivia tensed as she expected him to press down on the trigger with no hope of stopping him, but she felt his finger allow her finger some freedom in the trigger hole, but refused to allow it to escape. She could tell a sick and devious idea was bouncing around in his skull and she dreaded what sick fantasy he was going to inflict upon her. Dread seeped into her very soul as she’d soon find out what caused his sudden readjustment.

Just hearing the word “game” made her stomach twist in knots so tight she thought she was going to be sick. Each word he let slip filled her with dread as she felt her anxiety consume her at the thought of what would happen if she lost this “game” of his.

“Ahhh!” She moaned as she felt the bullet sinking inside her as her walls clamped down and started to suck on the bullet. The vibrations against her walls made her thighs shake as her muscles sucked the bullet so hard that if his grip ever lightened up, she’d finish the job for him and pull it completely inside. Between the kiss on her neck and the hard, confined cock making good use out of her ass, Olivia was struggling to keep still. Her body wanted to grind against him and make him feel just how excited and eager her body was to fuck the cock that made her scream the last time he was here. Her body instantly remembering the pleasure he brought her then and how easily he made her weak now and seemed all too eager to show her appreciation had it not been for the gun drastically changing the mood of the situation.

Goosebumps shot down her skin as she listened to the rules of his game and became even more thankful her body had some restraint or else she could have lost the game before she even heard his rules. And, he proved to her that this was a game she really didn’t want to lose. She grit her teeth as fear, anger, and arousal created a cacophony of emotions that were never meant to blend together. She sucked air through her teeth not just from the threat of receiving another bullet, but from the bullet already inside her pulsing against her walls as she made the fingers of his second hand wet. There was no hiding that the fear that crippled her didn’t stop her slutty pussy from getting wet. He could feel her melting on his fingers so much so that one wrong move and the barrel of the gun might slip further into her pussy than he intended it to be. It gave her more of a reason to hold as still as possible despite how eager her hips were to entice the cock grinding against her ass to play with her directly.

“Ahhhh!” She tensed, her body locking up as he could feel her restraining just how active her body wanted to move as he forced her harder against her and forced her biggest weakness against the hot cleft between her ass. Her cheeks parting slightly to fit such a big cock as she shuddered feeling how hard and hot he felt at the base of her spine. His heat traveled up her spine and made her nipples ache so painfully she struggled to hold back a pathetic whine.

Her eyes darted towards the glass in her hand as he warned her spilling his drink would earn her a bonus round in this sick game and she already dreaded its possibility as her hand trembled and already threatened her hold on the glass. She poured more strength into her hand in an attempt to keep the glass as still as possible, but there was only so much this poor creature could do against a predator like him.

Immediately, he attacked her with such aggression that she had no choice but to move in response to him. Instead of her hips though, it was her chest as it puffed out and made her breasts strain against her bra more than they already did. His lips clamped against the right side of her neck right where her shoulder connected to her neck. He knew the perfect spot to attack not just for the sensitivity of the spot, but because if she survived this, Olivia wouldn’t be able to avoid looking at a reminder of what he did to her. Her voice strained as her throat closed trying to hide her need to moan as he sucked on her skin until she could feel it burn hot enough that his mark sunk into her skin. However, he’d surprise her with a sudden sharp and hard bite in the very same tender spot.

”Ahhhh! Ahh-ahhhh!” She cried out as she threw her head back to cry out to the heavens. His teeth dug so hard into her skin that the sudden hot and intense pain shooting down her shoulder paired with the exquisite pulsing bullet assaulting her walls. Her voice shook so heavily that her very moans came out broken and vibrated in her throat. Her entire body tensed so tightly to prevent her from slipping into another movement that she felt like stone in his arms. He knew the exact spots to attack and how to attack them. He knew what would make her moan like a whore and beg for his cock, but this time she had something far more precious on the line if she gave into her body’s natural desires for him. As much of a monster as he was, he was an erotic and deadly beast who played her like a lustful instrument to make her sing erotic songs with deadly consequences.

Only when his teeth finally let go of her was she able to breathe again. Her chest heaving with breaths as if he had suffocated her and only just now allowed her to breathe again. The hickey on her neck throbbed in her skin and reddened with a ring of teeth marks surrounding it. A unique sigil of ownership deep in her skin that would heal over time, but she was sure if she survived long enough, he’d be more than happy to place another on her again so long as she kept entertaining him. She shuddered as he drank in more of her erotic scent. Her body making him smell her very fear and need paired with the sweet scent of apple like she was a fine wine more delicious than the one that rippled in her hand.

She glared at him from the corner of her eye as he called her “cupcake”, but didn’t expect to hear his name in the very same sentence. ”Agony”…she shouldn’t be surprised that’s what he called himself.

”Fitting...” She commented upon finally learning what to call her attacker. Her tight throat made her struggle to speak more than short responses, but a bit of her spark and fire still managed to leak through as he asked for her name in return.

“Olivia…” She answered honestly, but expected he didn’t truly care about her name other than to cement her in his memory if their time together ever came to an end. Her name was a trophy to remember her by if he ever had the desire to cut her life short.

“Though, I suspect you’ll have a lot more colorful names to call me,” She retorted with venom in her voice to make it known her words weren‘t friendly despite how they sounded. Her voice shook as she spoke since the bullet inside her made it difficult for her voice to be steady. She was almost thankful for this moment he allowed since it provided an ever so slight escape from the true horror of what was happening to her. It just might give her the strength she needed to make it through the night…