“Sixteen.” Her voice was stone cold, biting, and I smashed the wood onto her, grinding it in. The sounds that fell from her lips were musical, stunning, healing.
“And once more?”
“Seventeen,” she sobbed. “Seventeen!”
The last blow was the worst. I made it the hardest I could, my muscles vibrating with the release of pressure as more blood splattered beneath us. Her pussy was pouring with it now.
For a full minute, I just watched it, studied the way blood poured and muscles clenched. Her body was shaking, shivering, sweat slick over her spine.
I dropped the plank underneath her face, making sure she could see it, see the bits of her flesh, the stains of her blood, before returning to her behind.
Falling to my knees, I reveled in the sight before me. Beautiful, so damaged, pretty red flesh seeping and mangled. I licked up what was left of her pussy, ran my fingers through the mess and covered my face in her blood, sucked on the wounds I found, drawing out more of her agony. “So fucking delicious,” I said between licks and sucks. “Your pain, your despair. Icraveit, little killer, live for it.”
“You’re a bastard,” she cried, her voice thick with tears and pain.
I made a noise of agreement as I ran my tongue over her clit, still whole, but with a wound to its side. “And you’re a cunt. A dirty, broken cunt like this one.” Ibit her clit, and she shouted out. “We make quite the pair.”
Covered in her blood, the red liquid running down my chin, my neck and onto my white shirt, I reached for the marionette lying on the floor.
“What are you doing?” she asked, an edge of that darkness sneaking back out. That crazy bitch was never far away. It was like pain brought her out. The worse things were for Penny, the crazier she was. The more on the surface that killer instinct became. She seemed almost… curious.
“I’m going to fuck you with your sister,” I stated.
“What?” she burst out, but when I shoved the top of the marionette into her pussy, she tensed and shrieked.
It was big, bigger than a cock, but not enormous. It would fit. She was nice and tenderized for it.
I pushed the marionette inside her until it was shoulder deep, then paused to feel around, enjoying the way her skin was stretching. So sore, so broken.
“Best get it all in before I come,” she said, teasing, that wickedness out now. I fought back a bitter laugh. I wanted to learn the exact moment she snapped away,when any sanity left her mind. Maybe it was defensive. But I needed to keep her teetering on that edge of fear, before it turned into whatever the hell this was.
“Shut up,” I demanded, smacking her asshole. “Or it’s going in here.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” she teased, but her voice was pained, half-cut.
I smirked, debating what I could do with her ass as I pushed more of the marionette where it shouldn’t go. It didn’t fit, not really, and her hole tore from the lack of prep as the marionette reached waist deep.
She cried out, the pain mixing with pleasure though, like she couldn’t tell the difference. “More,” she begged. “Adrian, get it all inside me. I’m your marionette; yours to do with what you please.”
Fuck.
My cock was hard. Foul and solid.
And I wasn’t taking this ugly thing out of her yet. I wanted her to feel every curve and joint, all the crude metal connections, the sharp points.
So I walked around to her front and pulled my dick free. “Good job you’re at cock height, little killer,” Itold her. “Suck me hard, no teeth, and maybe then you’ll get that more you want.”
She opened wide, and I slid my cock into her sloppy mouth, driving right to her throat, making her gag. Using the momentum of the ropes, I made her fuck me, drove her body forward and back, looking at the damage I’d caused, the blood beneath her, the splattering of it across her back, the marionette sticking out of her destroyed pussy.
It took mere moments for me to flood her with my cum, and this time, I massaged her throat so she would swallow it all down, and she did, greedy and groaning with a dazed look on her face.
After a deep breath, I returned to her backside, pushed my fingers inside her asshole and scissored them to stretch it out again. It hadn’t been long since I’d fucked her there, so she was still looser. She groaned, her whole body sinking, relaxing, maybe into that sub-space again.
But she was like cooked spaghetti when I ripped the marionette from her and threw it across the stage, stained with blood and pussy.
To take her down, I had to climb the rafters and lower her to the floor, a mess of tired limbs collapsed on the faded varnish.
The ropes unraveled from her limbs with ease, the metal halo slid from her head, and I rubbed my thumbs where the grooves had pressed in red squares.
