Myers

by Zepphora

Pain in the body quiets pain in the mind. PENELOPE DOUGLAS, KILLSWITCH

I want someone so hell-bent on having me that he’ll chase me to the ends of the Earth just to make me his. I want a man who will stop at nothing to have me. I want a man who’s toxicity knows no bounds. He’d not only die for me. No, that’s too minimal. I want a man who would kill for me and take the life sentence with a smile on his face.

Hell, I have my own sexual desires but you don’t hear me screaming about how I want to play dead and be fucked into the mud by a man covered in blood while holding a knife to my throat.

With no warning, he shoves my panties in my mouth right before he trails his tongue up my pussy. I cry into the gag as I squeeze the comforter in my hands, grinding my cunt against his tongue.

He thrusts all the way in, splitting me in two with the sword between his thighs, and he pins my arms above my head as he waits.

That’s exactly what Damien King is for this town. He is fear.

What is wrong with me? How can I be so fucked up to get horny from the sight of one of my friends dead?

I gave my virginity to the infamous Halloween killer and I’d do it again. Maybe I’m just as fucked up as he is.

That’s why Satanists believe rape is the worst crime one can commit, worse than murder. It can destroy one’s soul. It did that to mine.

Still, he fucks my face with the same passion he does my pussy, digging his fingers into my wrists.

He grunts and groans with each thrust until he’s had enough and pulls out. Without warning, he comes all over my face and neck and some even lands on my tits.

“You’re…mine…Trixie.” I nod even as tears still fall down my face. I never knew I could be as happy or feel as loved as I do right now. I kind of like him calling me Trixie. “Yours yesterday, today, tomorrow, and every day after.”

don’t know why, but all of his murders get me all hot and bothered. Maybe it's because I can feel his passion when I look at them.

His fingers come around my throat and force my head up to meet his gaze. “You want me, pretty girl?” My clit pulses from his rough touch. “Yes.”

“This is mine,” he growls when he comes up for air. He pulls out completely before slamming back into me.

“Come for me, my pretty little dead girl.”

He may be a weirdo, but he’s all mine.

“Don’t be mad,” I say before taking a small breath. “You killed a bunch of people to make sure we could leave together. I’m just as culpable now. I killed him for you. I wanted to show you I’m just as dedicated as you are. It’s you and me.”