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I stalk the hall, slow and silent, passing by the other formal dining rooms filled with zealous chatter about tonight’s show.
Everyone is so scandalized a prostitute bit off Klein’s dick. If they’d seen a tenth of the dismembered parts I have, they wouldn’t be so impressed…
I keep up the hunt. I track her down the rest of the hall and find her in the room I knew she’d be.
My hunger for flesh might be growing, but the other kind of hunger for flesh will have to do.
For now.
I barge into the room and slam shut the door.
Celeste spins around from the vanity mirror with feigned shock on her face. This is the moment she’s been fantasizing about all night. The next time I’d have her. Despite the fact that I discard her after every use.
In Celeste’s head, I’m merely playing…hard to get.
She comes to me, meeting me halfway across the room. Her talon-fingers glide up my chest, and she leans closer in hopes for a kiss.
“There you are,” she purrs. “Baby, I’ve missed you. Let’s be naughty—come with me and we’ll sneak onto the stage. No one has to—ouch!”
I’ve gripped Celeste’s arm with crushing force and tossed her over the armrest of the sofa in the room. Her waif-like form is almost airborne for a moment. Weighing no more than a hundred, maybe a hundred and ten pounds, she’s all sharp bones from years of casual bulimia.
I am not attracted to Celeste in the slightest.
Her cheeks are hollowed out, and the rest of her face, from her heavy brow to her square chin, vaguely resembles Klein, her cousin. Her body is an unsightly mix of scars and bruises. There’s little to grab onto. Little softness, fewer curves, mostly bones.
At one point in time, she may have looked better. Healthier, with more color and less of an aura of self-loathing.
However, she’s an easy, quick, desperate lay. So her cunt will have to do.
She purrs some more as I shove up her dress and tear away her panties. I’ve pulled out my cock and rolled on a condom.
“Baby,” she says, trying to adjust her position.
My hand clamps down on her shoulder and I push her back down. Then I slam into her. Her purr turns into a throaty groan. It could be from pleasure, though I suspect it’s more so from pain. I’m well-endowed and she’s barely wet—always an issue with her, prompting her to carry lube for her many casual hookups.
Unfortunately, I’m impatient and I’m already inside of her. Meaning, I don’t care to stop, and she’ll have to deal.
Celeste takes what she can get. She knows if she protests, I’m gone. The fantasy she’s dreamed up will evaporate, and she’ll be left alone and sober. Her worst living nightmare.
I’m quick to get myself off. I pump away as she squirms beneath me and murmurs baby into the sofa cushion. Once or twice she winces when I go too hard, too deep, and she’s too dry. Not once does she protest, knowing this is what she wanted.
This is how I treat her. This is what scrap from me she’ll take.
Any small, insignificant scrap.
I come and promptly remove myself from her. The condom gets tossed into the nearest bin. She remains bent over the sofa armrest for a moment longer, her bare, flat ass still presented to me as if in hopes I’ll come back for more.
I tuck myself away and zip up.
“You’re pathetic,” I say. “We’re done. Move on.”
“Baby.” She sinks to the floor, looking every bit a disheveled mess. Her dress hangs loosely, her hair’s started falling out of its pinned updo. Sweat gleams on her pale skin and the marks on her arms are fully visible, no longer covered by makeup. She holds out a hand to me. “We should do it. Perform at the Market’s live show. I’d do it… I’d suck your cock in front of everyone. I’d fuck you in front of them. Wouldn’t it be naughty?”
“Get one of the other men you fuck to do it.”
“But—”
I slam shut the door as abruptly as I reeled it open.
