vixen - Chapter 3, Part I

Know me broken by my master
Teach thee on child of love hereafter
~Alice in Chains (Would)

As she turned on her heels to walk away, the beast sprang to life. Her words caustic and defiant, scythed through him like a blade and struck a nerve deep inside. No one dared speak to him this way. No mere mortal had ever summarily dismissed him like this and lived. He had reduced those frail pitiful creatures to quivering masses, devouring on their souls as they prayed to be released from the depths of their agony. He remembered well how they had submitted to his every whim, if only they were allowed the chance to die. For death was sweet relief from the torturous pain that shred their souls apart. And yet, as he launched himself towards her, there was something about her that gave him pause. A voice of reason that had never spoken before, whispered urgently into his ear. It took him by surprise, the shock causing him to almost stumble. Biting down on his tongue to repress the raging demon that was now fully awake and aroused, he struggled to wrench back control. In an instant he found himself walking beside her. Metallic taste filled his mouth, warm fluid flowed down his suddenly dry throat. Breathing deep to suppress the anger that filled his head and the carnal lust that groped at his loins, he forced his voice to remain steady.

(Grab her hair! Drag her back to the tree! Use your teeth! Put your hands to good use! Do it now!!)

"That's no way to treat a gentlemen My Lil Vixen".

She stopped to look him straight in the eye and that's when he acted. With snake-like speed his left hand was entwined in her hair, his right hand about her throat. With his face so close to her lips the flowery aroma of her lipstick assaulted his senses as if he had walked into a funeral parlour.

"In fact", he sneered, his breath rustling a few wisps of her red mane that strayed across her face, "I would dare to venture that your disposition is down right rude, don't you think?"

She dragged a deep breath between clenched teeth, which was the only sound she made. Every muscle, coiled tight to deal with any resistance that she might put up, screamed with tension . Her lack of resistance came as a surprise, caught him off-guard.

(Fight you bitch! claw at my wrists! bite my hand! kick and struggle! make this enjoyable!!)

She remained still, head crooked back at an angle, her body rigid and composed as she glared back at him with slanted eyes that smoldered with brazenness and open impudence. His head hurt with the roar of the beast inside. It had been denied and it was not happy. The rush of blood pounded his ears with a muffled din. A shadow crossed behind his dark eyes. His vision began to swim, knees almost buckled beneath him.
Screaming flesh ripping from the inside out, coagulated vessels exploding. Fibrous muscles split apart. A howling pain that wrenched from deep within the darkness. With agonizing slowness, as each jagged claw scrabbled for tenuous grip, step by torturous step, the malignant spirit broke free from it's malignant hollow.

In an instant, he had dragged her backwards to the tree where only a few moments ago he was enjoying a satisfactory piss, lounging apathetic in his boredom. And now he had a fistful of a long tangled red mane attached to which was a woman that he wanted more than anything else in this world.
He wanted to taste her. He wanted to feel her skin quiver and ripple under his palm. He wanted to hear her whimper, moan, sob. He wanted to fuck her as she whispered his name over and over again. He slammed her against the knotty bark of the tree. One hand against her throat, he pinned her hands above her head, jamming his knee viciously between her thighs using the weight of his body to hold her firm. Leaning in, he growled, extended his tongue and flicked it across her half open mouth. Her pulse raced like a trapped butterfly under his hand, tiny wings beating desperately for it's life. Her breath came in short gasps and her breasts heaved against his chest. And yet she did not make a sound. She did not scream nor even speak. Her eyes remained rock steady, locked with his, rebelliously wide and challenging.

With their lips so close that they almost touched, their breaths collided against each other twisting like wraiths before vaporizing into the chill night. Slowly he began to move his hips back and forth to grind his engorged cock against her crotch. His fingers began to stroke her neck, squeezing gently, thumb pressing down into the pulsating vein that carried her life blood.

(so easy)

He licked his lips, a smirk curling along the edges. He opened his mouth to speak, and she chose that moment to lean forward and clamp her lips against his. Her tongue flicked out and pushed between his lips, penetrating like a proboscis deep into his mouth.

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