9. Githany #3
A moan breaks free from her darkly painted lips before she can stop it.
“Disgusting, fucked-up little ghost girl. Getting off on a knife handle with all those people’s blood still on your skin.”
Her mouth opens, lips working several times over. I can see the questions trying to come out. Guttural cries manifest where words fail her. My circling of her clit tightens.
The air shifts, almost imperceptibly. Hunt and Madness are in my domain.
“They’re coming. Not long now.” My pace turns unforgiving. Her legs are shaking. She’s close enough for me to deliver my ultimatum. “If you don’t come right this second, I’ll leave you here for them. Let them flip these blades over and find out what your insides look like—”
That’s all it takes for her mindless orgasm to tear across the cabin.
Githany’s scream is feral, deep, revealing the inhuman parts beneath her skin.
Tears trek down her face as her mouth twists into an O.
Her core clenches tight enough to pull the knives deeper.
I snatch at the blades, ignoring the cuts on my fingertips, and keep hold of them until she finishes.
Cum squirts past the sharp metal, soaking my hand. This is a fantasy even I couldn’t have dreamed up. “Sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
I wasn’t lying when I told her they were close. The two of them are approaching fast. I’d better get those knives out.
Githany flounders, body flopping like a beached fish with the removal of each blade.
The last handle slides from her pulsing cunt. She collapses onto the table, a sigh of relief whooshing out of her.
“You did so good, sweetheart.”
The paring knife is so small compared to the others. I doubt she notices it’s still pushed into her.
She melts into the wood as my fingers stroke her from head to toe. A few moments of relaxation are fine, but there are still urgent desires for me to fill. I need more of her before I have to share. I don’t take samples—I devour my prey.
Githany will see.
A quick release of her ankles and wrists allows her to move freely for a few moments. She gasps when I slip the paring knife from her ass. Can’t have her carving herself up.
With a few wraps of a new chain and a quick lift, I hoist her up, slinging the chain over a nearby hook.
She flails as her body hangs. “This fucking hurts.”
“You just need to take a little pressure off your shoulders.” I hook her knees on either side of my face to get up close and personal with her sweetest spot. Her scent is divine, tinged with a metallic flare that I can attribute to micro-damage from the knives.
Tasting her, sweetened with blood, is so appealing that my tongue turns completely monster without thought.
Githany’s eyes pop wide as she stares down at the forked tip. “That’s not human.”
“Not—” I lick straight up her seam. “One—” I dip the tip inside before withdrawing. “Bit.” Plunging my tongue deep sends Githany bucking against my face.
I feast between her thighs, lapping up a flavor more rapturous than any flesh, blood, or bone I’ve indulged in before.
“Gator,” she simpers.
Shock stills my tongue momentarily. “Say it again.”
A tease of my tongue against her clit grants me my request. “Gator.”
“Yes, sweetheart. Don’t stop saying my name.”
“Why—” she pants as I push back inside. My tongue now fully demon and even thicker than my human cock. “Why do they call you that if you wear a pig’s mask?”
I’m impressed she’s able to think so clearly. She groans when I empty her, but this part is worth having full function of my mouth for.
“That’s what they scream when they see me coming. Swimming, swimming. Their small minds can’t rationalize anything else.”
My tongue draws slick figure-eights between her folds, and Githany’s thighs flex hard around my face.
I lift my mouth only to murmur against her glistening snatch, “They see my glowing eyes above the surface and assume that’s what I am. An animal. A predator. In reality, I’m something far, far worse. Everyone screams when they realize their mistake.”
I drag another taste up her seam. Then slip my fingers inside.
They slide out slow and drenched. With two fingers I stroke her pussy, milking that sensitive spot that makes her cry out.
A third finger dips behind, stealing that small space, allowing me to work both holes while my tongue gives its full attention to her clit.
She climbs and climbs, squeezing every part I’m invading, until I’m rewarded with a cry of ecstasy that’s even sweeter than the sound she made for my knives.
What sounds will she make when it’s my cock? Not this fleshy mortal appendage. My cock.
“I thought I’d want you to scream for me too. I’ll admit, I like it better when you moan my name. The screaming will come soon enough. After all, I’m still starving.”
Her screams punch out as I sink inhuman teeth into her thigh, marking her in my favorite way. I flex my fingers before slipping them free, relishing the conflicted way her body jerks as pleasure fights to overtake fresh pain.
Skin ripples, releasing the first hints of my demon self. It’s time for Githany to meet the real Gator.