Darkly Ramblings

Posted on

I cut her. Cut her freshly and watched it transform the delicate features of her face. Her mouth twitched as I drew my dagger of insults across her chest, marking her as I had many times before. A rogue wisp of hair that clung on her cheek, held there by the salt of her sweat dislodged itself as she gasped for me. I watched it as it moved freely with the rise and fall of her breath. I contemplated her, on count… counting each wicked thought as I counted her breath.

Everything on the inside urging me, tempting me to draw the curtains and play in the light with her. It was the want of seeing her bruised, battered and broken that drew me in even if part of me knew better. I wouldn’t be able to handle the kiss of the light, illuminating the handfuls of fat the slathered my waist. Illuminating the sections of myself that were full, and diseased. Yet, she always seduced the hunger in me, to have myself undone. She seduced the anger in me, and I usually have always won. It was my Expectation that I would continue to resist and so would she.
There is no need to restrain her, but I always do. I bind, knot and pinch sections of her skin as I subdue her from taking the lead. Her body bubbles, forming odd shapes that deform her so very very well. It satisfies me to see the ties cutting into her so sharply that her body begins to seep. She’s all bent out of shape and I wonder if it would satisfy me more if her tongue suddenly found itself detached, and laying on the floor.

Now she stood before me. I marveled in her twisted form. She would never know the control she had over me as it was the sight of her that made me slender and restricted. The sight of her seized my impulses. I tried my best not to make that particularly obvious and took a moment to observe her dilemma, before reaching out to fondle one of the many mounds of breast she now wore for me.

My senses were overcome at her extraordinary ability to still exist. Though for everything I always put her through, I always found her on my front step, more beautifully decayed each time. It made me love her more.

I stood as close as I could to her, letting the scent of her fear travel through me and watched as her body seemed to sing as it stood. Was she swaying for me? Inviting me, to demolish her more?

The cuts were not so deep, but they creamed red fluid quickly, as I started to open her up. Seeing her so, flooded me with pride. I wanted to lick the wounds I’d made but stopped myself. I didn’t know if I deserved to if I’d ruined her in all ways possible before being able to consume her. To be able to take her into me in the most intimate ways, drinking up what she leaked, saving her from spilling onto the floor.

Perhaps, it was her that did not deserve to be inside me.

Her body was an atmosphere I felt entitled to disturb. I sunk back into the moment and stepped away from her as she sought out to stroke my hand. It tore my insides apart from waiting any longer, and grabbing her wrist, I shoved the tenderest part into my mouth. I felt the perfect crush of porcelain skin on the juice of my tongue. I felt her between my teeth and running down my throat as I gorged. I feasted and when I was completely full of her, I let her lay on the cold concrete like a beautiful chaotic mess.

Her hair was no longer beautiful or sleek but dirtied with blood and scum. Her legs twisted as if they had no bones, and for a moment her body looked like a haggard sack, usefully for nothing but filling with rubbish. Bits of her body seemed blue to black with bruises, perhaps from the events of yesterday. I had taught her a lesson for tempting me and calling out for me to play in the light and strapped her body to the front gate of our house. Everyone had had their fill of her, filling all her holes with all sorts of wondrous treats and grabbing at her mounds of flesh. One of the beings that used her up adoringly doted on her with their belt. Nothing was more beautiful.

I crouched down extended out my hand to stroke her broken face and was surprised to have her cheek nestle into my hand. Why would she not disintegrate already? My fury erupted, energised by my hateful core and I hungrily declared war. I snatched myself away from her and crushed her fingers under my heavy stomping feet. She shrilled and I reigned in ardent desire to destroy her.

The sound of her voice filling the air challenged me, and as a reward to myself, I molested my hand into her mouth until I grappled her tongue into my grasp. The wet slimy muscle was pulsating between my fingertips and it lulled the feral in me. I snatch this girls voice from her body in a swift, raging flick of my wrist. A stream of veins, red and organ sailed the wind as I set them free.

Her eyes drew up and caught mine for only a moment. Those brilliant circles of white and forest green, dark pupils caught mine and stopped me in my thoughts.
I’d lost my temper in the moment that was already moments ago… My tender touch had turned…I slapped the sweat off her cheek and smirked to stop me from letting her in. I didn’t stay to watch, just smirked and sighed. As if disappointed, anything to hide my intoxication and turned my back to my corner to watch.

Watch her wait. She would. She always does.

Leave a Reply