Calm as a stormy sea, I dragged her by the hair. Her pretty little eyes were puffing and screaming like a caged animal. It was a shame for me to arrive so quickly at the best room in the brothel and not hear her scream longer. I threw her to the floor to close the door.
— You can eat my flesh now… You can even kill me… But I won't sleep with you while I'm alive. _Her voice tore, followed by the desperate start of crying.
I looked back and slowly approached her body on the floor. Crouching down, I swallowed the miserable pain I felt from my raw, mangled back and admired those perfect eyes. No pain compared to the splendid sensation of seeing those vivid suns in her eyes again on such a dark night. I think even the moon hid from the luminescence of those eyes. And it should hide—it's an affront to try to conceal something that shines so effortlessly.
I don't know what kind of look I was giving her, because Lavínia's gaze furrowed, and in the midst of my deafening silence, I saw her become more terrified than when I opened my mouth.
— You're a psychopath… you have no remorse or empathy… I can see your smirk, you bastard!
I stared into her eyes, unable to look away from that gold gleaming with so much fear, even though her words hit the edge of my questionable character. It was an absolute truth. I was a psychopath, but not only that—there were many other sordid adjectives to describe someone whose soul had been ripped out and needed another.
— You've gotten bold. _I don't smile, even though her angelic face was the most beautiful thing I'd seen after surviving such dark months of torture. I didn't smile; I couldn't even do that—the intense pain in my body forbade me from even parting my lips. — I'm not sure if I like this boldness of yours.
At that, she raised her shoulders, propped her hands on the floor, and brought her face closer to challenge mine, so close that it made me hold my breath so only she could breathe.
— I don't know what kind of paraphilia you're into… _The tears in her amber eyes fell, and she licked her trembling lips. The fear was evident as she realized I wasn't okay and that her words could result in a fatal sentence. — But you'll have to kill me to touch me again.
Yes, without a doubt… I liked this Lavínia better. The other one was a whiny slut. This one is brazen… bold and brave enough to hasten her own death, if not, why challenge me?
I'm the killer here…
I think it's time to show who's in charge.
She froze when my mouth moved to her ear.
— I've done necrophilia a few times… _I whispered, inhaling the delicious scent of her perfume. The smell of flowers… I think I'd bring some to her grave, but I'm not sure if she deserves that much. I'll think about it. — It's nice to possess the corpse when it's still warm, you know?
Lavínia's body shrank, and I saw the strands of her hair trembling.
— You're sick…
My nostrils reveled in the delicious scent of the fear emanating from her. It's interesting… I like it.
— Your fear is the tastiest I've ever tasted. _I confess without guilt, savoring it.
Terrified, intimidated, and horrified, she crawled backward on her hands, moving away quickly and standing up.
Slowly, I dragged my eyes over her body. I could moan at that slim figure and small breasts outlined in that wretched fabric. Not wanting to get hard right now, I lifted my gaze upward. It was divine to contemplate those fearful, crying eyes. There was no better phenomenon than knowing I was the reason for those tears.
She hated me as much as I hated her for not having killed her yet.
And now I had orders to do so.
In a slow motion, due to the destruction and ruin on my back, I stood up and walked toward her, standing side by side with her body, both of us looking at opposite walls—she at the wall behind me, and I at the wall behind her. My attention drifted to her ass, cruelly outlined in that tight, damnably short black dress.
Then, I dragged my hands to my black shirt and, with difficulty and grimacing, unbuttoned it.
— Are you going to kill me? _She asked, neutralized and paralyzed, as if she knew running from me wasn't the best option, but staying with me wasn't either.
With my shirt open, I brought my hand to her lovely little neck and caressed it, imagining a dog collar adorning it.
Intrigued by the idea, I began measuring her neck with the palm of my hands, seriously considering getting a custom-made collar for that pale, white neck.
— I'm going to give you a gift. _I declare decisively.
— I don't want anything from you. _She tried to escape, but I closed my hand around her neck.
Funny, she accepts cash as gifts from clients.
But a collar with her tormentor's name, she rejects.
Very annoyed, I ignored the almost blinding pain in my back and scooped her into my arms. On the short walk to where I was taking her, she struggled the whole time. Finally, I set her down on a piece of furniture against the wall.
Craving more contact with her skin, I forced her legs apart with my hands and settled between them.
— Are you going to beg me not to hurt you? _I asked in a low tone, and her bold gaze locked onto mine.
— No fucking way.
— Wow! Such a feisty little girl. _My ironic words carried traces of deep malice. I saw her gaze shift to my abdomen, and I looked too, seeing the damn old scars, as the new ones were on my raw, burning, stinging back. I should be taking care of myself…
But I couldn't go another second without seeing her.
— You should've warned me that day not to touch you. _She raised her eyes and stared at me firmly. Her hands came to grip the fabric of my open shirt. — What did they do to you? _Her gaze shifted to pain and sadness.
My chest aches.
— Don't ask questions you know I won't answer.
— You're right. But you're not getting inside me. I choose the bad part of us being here. You seem full of hatred for the world, so it's fine to kill me, but fuck me? That you'll never do again. _She pulled my shirt, and with pain from the fabric scraping my back, I leaned forward, closing my eyes, opening my mouth, and letting out a noisy sound, gripping her slim waist.
— Stop. _I pleaded with her to end it.
Quickly, Lavínia let go of my shirt, and one of her hands came to my neck.
— You're hurt. _She noticed, alarmed, and I looked into her eyes. — The smell of blood is strong. Why didn't you go to the hospital instead of coming here?
— Sometimes, those who feel fear want to know what causes fear. _I spoke enigmatically and rested my forehead on hers.
I have to ease up…
Slowly, I reached behind and grabbed something from the waistband of my pants.
As I pulled away from her, her eyes widened.
— You're going to kill me.
— Yes, but not today. _With that, I removed the protective cover from the knife and placed it on the furniture. I glimpsed her horrified eyes.
— And this knife?
I smirk and pull a vial of cocaine from my pocket. I consider forcing her to snort with me, but I don't. I open the vial with the tip of the knife and soon pour the pure cocaine onto one of her legs. Crazed and my body craving it, I suddenly aligned a thin line of the white powder with the knife's blade, scraping it against her skin and watching her shiver, so scared it enchanted me.
I shouldn't be doing this, but I needed it to stop feeling so much pain. For a long time, this has been my way of dealing with everything in my shitty life.
Eagerly, I quickly pulled my wallet from my pocket, grabbed a bill, rolled it up in a hurry, and used it as a straw as I crouched and snorted all the cocaine off her leg. I looked at the ceiling, breathing deeply for a while. Just a few more seconds, and the pain stops…
Standing, I delighted in sliding the tip of the knife along her thigh, reaching between her legs. I looked at her as we heard the abrupt tearing of her dress, which I cut entirely in half, finally seeing her naked. She wasn't wearing anything underneath… what a naughty girl…
It didn't take long for her to start crying.
— The knife is to get you naked.
— Are you going to force me again?
I raise an eyebrow.
— Should I? _I ask.
— No. _She shook her lighter-colored hair in denial. Did she dye it? It looks nice.
— Then I won't shove my dick in your pussy.
— So why am I naked?
— Because your body is beautiful, and I want to admire it.
— I don't trust you.
— And you shouldn't, Lavínia. Never make the mistake of trusting me. I'm not trustworthy.
Skillfully, I spun the knife in my hand, now firmly gripping the blade.
She looked down and immediately raised her face, staring deep into my pupils with her teary, scared, intimidated, and utterly terrified eyes.
Under the immediate effect of the cocaine, my nervous system was already activated, and my heart rate was more than accelerated.
That's what I needed as a stimulus to shove the damn knife handle into the entrance of her pussy. Lavínia screamed, and I realized I'd have to do something I'd never done—control the cause and effect of the drug possessing my body to focus and gaze at the face of this wretched woman receiving the pleasure I'd provoke in her.
— You said… said you wouldn't…
I finish.
— Shove my dick. I know what I said, and I never said I wouldn't use a knife. _I reached her lips and bit them hard, moving the knife slowly after feeling she was getting used to the handle of the sharp instrument.
— Careful… _She cautioned, watching my hand penetrate her pussy with the damn knife. — Slowly. _She whispered and looked into my eyes, shifting to my mouth. I shoved the fucking handle all the way in, and she opened her mouth in reaction.
Lavínia surprised me with a kiss on my chest and spread her legs further, lifting one leg onto the furniture.
I wonder what her reaction would be if she knew the knife that tortured me for all those months was inside her pussy?
I still couldn't believe my father got tired and let me go, claiming he'd find me and finish the job.
I only realized I was cutting my hand with the knife when I felt the sting in my folded palm with the blade hidden inside, but I didn't care about that shit. I took advantage of the drug's effect, taking me to another state, a subworld where I was alone with her in a place with no living soul—just the two of us, me drinking in her pleasure as I moved the handle in and out tirelessly, lost every time I plunged it into her lubricated pussy, wishing like a condemned man that one day this wretch would beg me to fuck her with my huge dick, all the way inside her.
One of her hands gripped the furniture, and the other closed around my wrist, guiding the movement I made at her vaginal entrance. That hand slid up my arm, lifting my shirt sleeve and caressing my skin.
My gaze met hers, and I saw her shyly look away, sucking her lower lip.
Loving every expression of arousal from this woman, I grabbed her neck and thrust the knife with more pressure and force, resulting in much more delicious moans from her.
My dick was burning, so hard from hearing her moan so sultry and shameless.
As I knew would happen, her body softened, her eyes closed, her small chest rose and fell in search of breath, her hard nipples seemed cold. Her panting, noisy breathing alerted me, and I intensified the thrusting of the knife, watching her lose herself in pleasure as she reached ecstasy with small spasms.
Her lustful eyes opened into mine for a second.
— You look like a little owl chick. _I said as Lavínia writhed and came on the knife's handle.
---
That night, I decided to walk to think about life. My car was parked farther away, purely as a precaution.
The street was dark and deserted; in the sky, the moon was absent, as I suspected.
I smile and end up groaning in pain.
One hand rested in my pocket, and the other I opened and closed, feeling the blood pulsing and draining from the deep cut I made with the knife.
On the sidewalk, I spotted a motorcyclist from afar, and at the same moment, a cat jumped onto my leg and ran to the middle of the road, lying down. I quickly looked at the motorcyclist speeding toward us and stopped to watch. The bastard sped by, and realizing he hadn't run over the cat, he turned around at the end of the street, determined to come back and try again.
Seeing him coming at high speed, I moved my feet and stood next to the cat. I gauged the distance to ensure neither I nor the cat would be hit by the brainless jerk.
Suddenly, the motorcycle came like a lightning bolt, and I only had time to raise my hand and grab the bastard's neck. He stayed as his bike flew and scraped the ground, making noise.
Furious, I threw him to the ground with violence and ripped off his helmet.
— When you see a tiny, defenseless little kitten in the middle of the road, you stop the damn bike to let the animal pass, in its own time, without rushing it, and then you speed off, got it? Or do you want to die? _I exploded, gripping his neck and slamming his head against the asphalt.
The man was crying.
— Sorry… sir… I won't do it again… please…
— Of course you won't. _I smirk with scorn and step back, standing up. — Get out of here. _I shouted impatiently, not shooting him in the forehead because I didn't have my gun.
The wretch grabbed his helmet, limping and touching his head, picked up his bike from the ground, mounted it, put on the helmet, and sped off. The kid was so desperate that his reckless driving caused an accident at the end of the street.
I breathe deeply.
These kids…
I shrug, walking toward the kitten.
— Come here, little black one. _I crouch and pick up the kitten, stroking its fur. — The world is cruel to the little ones, isn't it, blackie?
It meowed, and I smiled, smitten.
One of my weaknesses is young animals. They're so cute. They remind me of Lavínia's owl-like eyes.