12. Sagan
12
SAGAN
I can smell her before I see her. I can taste her before I hear her.
My vicious, unassuming, marvelous wonder of a pet loves the scent of lavender and honey. Her lotions hold the strongest of these smells, but the crystal perfume bottles that are hidden away in a green and gold antique jewelry box in her closet also house similar scents. She doesn’t use the artificial smells often, yet she must’ve worn them so much throughout her life that it’s become a part of her. It’s a comforting combination. It’s not overly floral nor is it sickeningly sweet. It’s a perfect blend that makes you want to lean in and take a deep breath before you let every bone in your body loosen and relax.
It's a dangerous perfume for someone like me. As someone who’s always tense and ready to strike, a drug to loosen up is curiously appealing. What would happen if I allowed myself to become intoxicated by the scent that lingers on my pet’s skin? I would hate to be the innocent victim that found out just how drunk I could get from the aroma in the air.
“Alright, this is probably what you’ve been scared of, but really, it’s the most beautiful and easy part of the journey,” I hear my Little Viper say.
Her sultry voice sends shivers down my spine. I could listen to her speak all day. It’s a shame how quiet she is when she’s in the house.
My footsteps slow but I don’t stop as I approach the cremation chamber. The door is typically shut, but she has it open this evening.
Beatrix doesn't see me as I come to stand in the doorway. Given that I’m dressed in all black and she keeps only a few lights on back here to keep the electricity bill down, I’m cast in darkness. I use it to my advantage to study her. As always, my pet has her thick, dark, curly hair parted down the middle with two braids that curve along the shape of her skull before dangling a few inches past her shoulders. This is her go-to style. A way to keep the hair out of her face as she works, probably. Her work attire, which consists of a fitted silk quarter-sleeve shirt and trousers, is all black. Just like her braids, the color black seems to be a comfort for her. Then again, given that she works in a funeral home, maybe black is just the staple color.
With a slight limp to her gait—a gift she’s received recently, no doubt from my father—she rolls the table with the deceased on it toward the cremation furnace. The massive machine takes up an entire car port of the four-car garage back here. There’s an empty port, then a black van in the following one, then, on the far wall on the other side of the room, is the hearse. Along the wall to my left is the processor where she puts pieces of the bodies she’s burned that didn’t quite become small enough. I enjoy the sound of the grinding as it chews up teeth and lingering bones.
“Now, what's going to happen is I'll roll you in and shut the door. It'll be warm for a bit and then it'll be over. I'll hang out here for a while but then give you some privacy. It'll feel like you're in a sauna. Think of this as a spa day.”
My mouth twitches as amusement flickers to life in my chest. My pet isn't afraid of death. In fact, from all that I've seen, she's more comfortable around the deceased than the living. The fact that she is kind to those who can't appreciate it is both confusing and endearing. My Little Viper is a strange young woman.
I like it.
“Ok, like I said, it's about to get warm.” She moves around the body and pushes a button. The square door to the furnace opens and the heat from it washes over me. Her gaze remains on the deceased’s face as she comes to stand by their head. “Alright, I'll see you soon, ok?”
With that, she reaches up and pushes the cardboard coffin into the oven. The rollers on the table help her move the body into the furnace with ease. While she walks over to shut the machine, I shoulder my backpack and brace myself. Just as the door to the oven shuts, I reach into the room and flip the light switch off. For a second, the room is cast into darkness. Beatrix gasps as the emergency light flickers on, putting her under a spotlight.
“What the?—”
Before she can finish her sentence I’m there, wrapping one arm around her—locking both of hers by her sides. My free hand covers her mouth, muting her screams with my palm. I expect struggling, and it comes swiftly. Her body, pressed against my front, thrashes about and shakes with terror. Taking a moment, I allow her to struggle with all her might, loving the heat that radiates from her and how fresh her scent is in my nose.
I groan as my cock grows hard.
Beatrix tries to jerk her head back to break my nose. She’s lucky I’m quick. I pull my head out of reach just in time. Her heel gets me in the shin. The pain that ripples up my leg, though brief, causes my cock to harden further. Oh fuck… The pain, her scent, the trembling of terror—it’s all perfect. Lifting her up off her feet, I move forward until her midsection hits the table her client had just been laying on. Her breath is knocked out of her, and she's forced to bend over to lay her chest flat against the rollers. At this angle I have to let go of her mouth.
“No! Please, Trevor, don’t do this!”
Trevor? Who the fuck is Trevor?
Dark, molten rage rides in on a storm cloud. I’ve been watching my pet for months—I haven’t heard about any Trevor in her life. Why would she think I was him? The anger in my gut grows more intense. Someone’s been messing with my Little Viper.
My teeth gnash together at the thought.
“Trevor! Don't do this!” she screeches as I wrestle her hands together behind her back.
I transfer them to one hand and pull a zip tie from my pocket. I ignore her kicking and flailing, or at least I try to. All this fighting is making me harder than steel. My Little Viper has never been one to shrink away or wilt under pressure. It's one of the things I adore about her. Using my body weight to keep her pinned to her table, I make quick work of binding her wrists behind her back. When I’m done, I grab both of her braids with one hand, leaning over her to do so, and yank my knife from its sheath hanging from my belt with my other hand. My blade swings around and presses against her throat. By holding her hair and giving her incentive not to move, Beatrix instantly freezes.
“Trevor—”
“Say his name again, and I’ll rip out your tongue,” I warn icily. Surprise causes Beatrix’s whole body to become rigid. I snicker. “That’s right, my Little Viper, I’m not who you think I am.”
For a second, she breathes heavily as the shock sinks in. I give her a moment, enjoying how I can almost hear the wheels turning as she pieces together who I am.
“Y-you're the one who's been leaving the flowers and notes,” she says breathlessly. “What are?—”
“Here’s the thing, Little Viper.” I lean over her back, pressing my weight into her, causing her to gasp for air. “You want me to do something for you, and I will, happily, but I never said you’d get it from me for free. So tonight, I’m collecting my payment up front.”
Beatrix grunts. “What do you want?”
“You, Little Viper. You .” I press my cheek against her back and enjoy the sound of her fluttering heart. Carefully, I pull my knife away from her throat and place it beside her but out of sight so she can’t make a move to reach for it. Then, I move so quickly that Beatrix doesn't have time to react before I've reached down and pulled the roll of tape and rope from my backpack. By the time she does start to move, I've ripped a large piece of duct tape from the roll.
“No, no, wait! I?—”
I reach around and slap the tape over her mouth from behind easily.
“Too late. You've signed your name in the devil's book, Little Viper. Not that you didn't already belong to me.” I run my hand down her back. “Things are in motion that can't be undone. I wouldn't stop them even if I could. So here's what’s going to happen. I'll take my payment from you, Little Viper, and then I'll get to work removing the parasites that have latched on to your life. Brace yourself, pet, because I’m not going to stop until I’m absolutely sated.”
Beatrix screams behind the tape. My smile grows. The sound is full of fury and terror. There is nothing more addictive than basking in the terror of my prey. To be the source of their fears. I move quickly again. This time Beatrix is a little faster trying to roll off the table when my weight eases off her. But she's not quite fast enough. Taking the rope, I wrap it around her and the table, pinning her flat. She whimpers and hard tremors rush through her.
“Don't worry, Little Viper, I'll take good care of you.” I pick up my knife and use it to cut away Beatrix’s shirt. She flinches as the skin on her back is touched by the cool air in the room. My eyes land on the massive bruising that creeps up the side of her back. It's a few days old but that only means it's had time to darken up. My stomach twists at the sight of it.
No more bruises , I vow mentally to my pet. Not from my father at least .
I let the tip of my blade slide down the seam of her pants between her legs. Then I make a few other cuts. My blade is so sharp that just the slight contact has the fabric falling away. Her beautiful, thick, voluptuous ass comes into view, and I can't help but groan. I reach forward and cup her right cheek, marveling at how much spills over my fingers and out of my palm, and how much more there’s left to hold. Beatrix flinches, her trembling becoming harder. I groan as I feel it through the hold I have on her.
My cock strains against my zipper.
Sheathing my blade, I grab both of Beatrix’s thighs and spread them apart. Tonight, I won't take everything. I'm here for a taste. This is her payment. When I take her fully, she'll be begging for me. Crouching down, I find myself eye level with her beautiful cunt… that’s wet? I lean forward, breathing in her arousal, savoring the unexpected musky scent.
“What’s this, my beautiful pet? Is it the roughhousing that excites you?” I groan. “Or is it because you know who has you trapped?”
I slide a hand up her thigh. Her smooth brown skin, so beautiful and soft, is a heavy contrast to my calloused pale hand. When it gets to the junction between her legs, Beatrix starts to struggle. I grind my teeth before straightening. My hand cracks against her ass. The jiggle it inspires and the red mark that immediately appears, both soothe my irritation with her immediately.
“Move again and see what happens, Little Viper,” I warn.
This time when I crouch down, I don’t stop, can’t stop, myself from leaning in and running my tongue through her folds.
Dear fucking lord.
With a ragged gasp of awe and wonder, I yank my face back. A shiver of unprecedented desire shoots through my empty body that’s free from any other emotion that would help dilute the intensity of the reaction.
“Oh my, Little Viper, you are delicious… ” I confess through a throaty growl.
I knew she would taste good. There’s just something about Beatrix that told me her body would be the sweetest treat. All my teeth could fall out from rot for all I care. As long as I could eat from this forbidden tree—it would be worth it.
Pressing my mouth against her core, I groan once before diving my tongue deep into her weeping pussy. Beatrix struggles against her binds. I grab her thighs with a biting grip and hold them open as I feast. Good god, nothing could pull me from this moment. Her struggling doesn’t let up, but as hard as she fights, she grows wetter.
I pull away gasping. “That’s it, my Little Viper, give it all to me. You’re doing so well.”
All these months watching from the shadows, and my patience is finally being rewarded. And the prize? The most delicious fucking cunt I’ve ever tasted. As my tongue laps up her arousal, Beatrix’s muffled cries choke off, turning into soft moans. Her struggling becomes less and less until suddenly her body stiffens. As she cums, her body leaks more of her juices. I drink up every drop. Even when her body goes limp, I keep going. It’s not enough. I need more. The amount of blood coursing through my dick is making me feel lightheaded. Or maybe it’s the dizzying, giddying high clouding my thoughts. My drug of choice? Beatrix Starr.
My cock strains harder against the zipper of my jeans. I’m so hard it hurts. I can’t help but laugh against Beatrix’s core as I grow drunk off her.
My fingers slide into her tight pussy. Scissoring and curling, they work for more of this delicious treat from her body. She can give this to me, I know it. Beatrix starts to fight me again. Her legs try to squeeze shut while simultaneously trying to kick me away. She screams wildly behind the duct tape and her shoulders jerk around as she tries to worm free of her binds. Annoyance momentarily cuts through my giddiness.
“You don’t know who I am, or what I’m capable of, Little Viper, but when I tell you to do something, I expect complicity.”
With that I lean forward and nip at her clit.
Her scream of fury and fear turns to pain. When I let go, it’s only so I can continue pumping my fingers in and out of her pussy. Beatrix goes limp as she alternates between sobs and panting hard. Her body clenches around me, her arousal dripping all over my palm. It doesn’t take long for her sobs to choke off into moans, nor does it take too much for her body to fall apart once more.
I lean forward, drinking straight from the source.
It’s. Not. Enough. When I pull away from between her legs with a gasp, my mind is reeling. Allowing myself a taste was a mistake. A hit, that’s all it’s taken, and now I’m as high as a goddamn kite on Beatrix Starr.
I need more. Desperation is a persistent, heavy ache that has sunk bone deep. It’s so thick and demanding, my muscles cramp and my gut threatens to turn itself inside out. The need to crawl beneath her skin and bask in the unholy presence that hides there rides me hard. I look down at the sopping wet pussy before me. I could…
No .
Control and patience. That's what I pride myself on. I want Beatrix looking up at me as I fuck her pretty little pussy. I won’t allow myself to fall any further into temptation. My body is wound so tight, I have to move slowly as I straighten from my crouch in order not to snap. How could I have thought a taste would suffice? This was a mistake. Sucking in a deep breath, I savor the aroma clinging to my lips and nose.
Absentmindedly, I reach out and stroke her ass tenderly.
“I made a promise, Little Viper, and I intend to keep it. You've paid up. Now I'll take care of your problem.”
Beatrix breathes heavily as she lays there. I pull my knife free and skim the tip over her butt. “I'm going to untie you from here. Count to thirty, and you can stand and turn around as you figure out how to get your hands free. Turn around any sooner, I'll gut you and leave your body in a pile with your mother’s and Patrick’s. Got that?”
Beatrix nods immediately.
Her compliancy is a beautiful thing. With a sigh, I cut her free, grab my backpack, and slip away down the dark hallway.