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Before I can process another thought, the reaper seizes my hips, his claws piercing my skin as he ensures a brutal and steadfast grip. I shriek with shock. I can feel his fucking claws physically in me. I can feel the snare of them curling into my flesh—but it doesn’t hurt. At least, not the way I expected it to, and it’s an utter head-fuck. But it doesn’t matter. None of it does, because Mr. Grim is merciful and does just as I asked. He sinks his cock deep inside with an unfathomable and unnatural speed, and God does it feel incredible! I can hear my cunt squelching as he rails me, and I forget how to breathe … or even if I need to.
Throwing my head back, I rest on my forearms, keening and panting like a wounded animal. And for the first time I understand it. The desire of men to use women. To fuck them like meat and claim them as trophies. How exquisite it must be to have such power! To use your cock like a weapon and hear the cries of ecstasy and anguish it causes. To reduce a woman with dreams, and wants, hopes and desires, to a screeching, desperate fuck toy that craves your cock more than air. No man has ever made me feel this way before. And the reaper is no man. Just as well I’m dead, because after this I could never go back. The fucking Grim Reaper has ruined me for all men!
My breasts bounce against the fallen tree, and incomprehensible sounds spill from my lips. I can’t stay quiet. Or maybe I just don’t want to. It’s so freeing to fuck noisily and unapologetically. My sex has almost always been about abuse. It’s been secret and threatening, hidden behind thin trailer park doors and loud music, fueled by drugs and alcohol. I had to be as silent as a mouse—I was even gagged, and had a gun held to my head, once.
But this is not like that.This is everything I want.There are no threats here. Just unparalleled amounts of pleasure. I’m already gone anyway, lost to the other side of the veil. There’s just me and my sopping wet cunt, my grunting mouth, my tight, puckering asshole—and death. If this is the only time I ever get to experience such perfect, wild abandon, then I will milk it for every damn second that I have.
Fear fills me so immediately and so suddenly that I’m dragged back to the present, slammed back into the now from the delicious, mindless zone Mr. Grim’s jackhammering between my thighs had transported me to.I can’t feel my legs.I can’t feel anything in fact. It’s like I’m suspended between a breathless pause and a gleaming knife’s edge. Then I’m gasping and sobbing as a towering tidal wave of pure, hot, knee-weakening ecstasy crashes down on me.
It pushes me under and I tumble through the black, starless eternity of myself like a rag doll drowning in bliss. A second wave of heat explodes within me, and the world falls away until there’s nothing left but fire within, chewing me up from the inside like a ravenous beast. My wordless scream fills the void of the hereafter, echoing through the veil.
I’m at the mercy of the reaper, and I have never come so hard. And I think it’s far from over.
Chapter Five
I flop against the fallen tree, exhausted, as my body spasms with the aftershocks of my multiple orgasm.That was intense.How can I possibly survive more?Has anyone else been fucked by the reaper?I wonder.Am I really the first? Or am I just another broken woman in a long line of wretched souls and suicides?“Mr. Grim?” I breathe.
The reaper smacks my ass again and withdraws with a sloppypop!jerking his hot, sweet load all over my pretty pink starfish. I squirm as one long finger traces my asshole, leisurely coaxing his chocolate cum inside me … prepping me for anal.
“Can you,” I hesitate, unsure of my own voice, but certain of what I want. “Can you tie me up? I—I kind of like it. It makes me feel safe.”
The Grim Reaper growls and I shiver. It’s a deep, lust-filled, and fright-inducing sound that only serves to turn me on even more. The next thing I know, I’m bodily lifted from the log and thrown over the reaper’s shoulder as if I were light as a feather. I shriek in delight and surprise. My supernatural host’s muscles flex beneath me, and I long to run my hands over them.
In the blink of an eye, I’m upright and fastened to an enormous pine tree. Gasping, I tilt my head back, craning my neck to watch in awe as wisps of shadow snake around my wrists and around the trunk. The reaper kicks my feet out, spreading my legs wide, and more bonds of shadow wrap each ankle, meeting each other around the tree to secure me in position. With my legs open and my arms above my head, I feel defenseless and helpless, yet somehow the bindings offer me comfort. And I eat up every damn moment of it.
Mr. Grim lowers his shadow-fleshed skull face to mine and drags his long, hot, black forked tongue up my cheek. It’s so erotic I could almost cry in pathetic, desperate need.
I hold his gaze, challenging him. “I might be in a vulnerable state, but I’m not afraid,” I warn. “Do your worst. I can take it. I want it.”
The reaper grins in his deeply perturbing way, then trails his claws down my body, cutting my sweater to ribbons in the process. He tweaks my hard nipples between his shadow fingers, and I gasp at the exquisite pain amplified by the cold. Then, grasping my breasts, one in each hand, he licks and sucks, my flesh disappearing in and out of view within his semi-transparent maw.
“Oh God,” I moan, struggling against my bonds, both yearning for and wanting to escape the deliciously sinful ministrations of his unnaturally long tongue. And then he does something no man has ever done for me. I’ve been subjected to most things, including flashlights and deodorant cans… I’ve been fingered and fucked, but no man has ever pleasured me with his own mouth before.
The reaper sinks to his knees and spreads my whisker with his fingers, that long tongue of his flicking out to lick at my clit, tasting the way a serpent scents the air.
“Fuck.” I wasn’t expecting it to feel so alive and so damn sensitive. The ham-fisted finger fumbling I’ve been forced to endure in the past made my clit raw and sore. I can only assume the fucked-up morons had no idea what they were doing, or how to please a woman.Those selfish fucking perverts!I fume in between gasps.But not Mr. Grim.He’s treating me the way a woman ought to be treated. With passion and desire and a yearning to see me fulfilled as much as himself.
The reaper laps at my slit—hungry for my cream—before his tongue snakes inside me.
I moan, feeling the warmth of his curious tongue flexing and darting, longer even than I gave it credit for. It’s beastly, and feels so monstrously wrong that it’s perfectly right. I writhe against the tree, grinding my cunt against his grotesquely beautiful skull face.But I couldn’t care less about how he looks. I just want to feel good!I was as alternative in life as I am in death, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that the Grim Reaper is genuinely alluring in his own spooky and surreal, otherworldly kind of way.
My pleasure builds to intolerable levels. I bite my lip hard enough to draw blood, but the reaper brutishly hastens his devilry, his attentions relentless and maddening. “Fuck me,” I whine. It seems terribly unfair that he can make me feel so damn cock-hungry! I’ve never wanted to be claimed so completely and brutally in my life. Violence has always felt like an invasion. But now it’s forbidden ecstasy—a whispered secret known only to those few who truly belong in darkness.
Lost in the sensations wracking my body, my mind turns to mush as Mr. Grim forces me to experience the most shockingly intense orgasm of my life. It’s single-handedlymorein every conceivable way than the multiple orgasm I enjoyed just minutes ago. I literally lose all feeling in my legs, and I sag against my bonds, my clit on fire. It’s so fucking painful that I see stars and shadows dance as I buck and thrash like a pitiful, dying fish on the sand.
My lips part to scream, but no sound escapes them. The silence of my climax is deafening, and still the reaper works, sinfully dragging out each exquisite drop of brutal pleasure for the sheer fun of seeing me suffer on the edge of Heaven and Hell.
Hot tears spill, and I give up control completely, no longer able to withstand the torment assaulting me. Broken, spent, with no strength left to sustain me, I hang from the tree, a rainbow-haired, spoiled dolly—a toy well-used.If this is what death is like, kill me a thousand times over!Sticky, light-headed, and jelly-legged, I feel my grip on reality fading as a sweet and heavy blanket of fatigue drapes over me.
The reaper releases me then. Scooping me up in his arms, he cradles me close to his transparent shadow flesh, keeping me warm beneath his billowing black cloak. Not giving a damn about whether I ever open my eyes again, I close them with a smile on my face as he settles down with me by the shore.This is the love I always deservedis the last conscious thought I manage before darkness claims me.
Chapter Six
The world takes on a strange, hazy, and surreal quality.Am I dreaming?We’re no longer snuggled by the lake… We’re somewhere else, somewhere cosmically black and star-spangled. I just don’t know where.How many layers of reality are there?It’s like we’re in-between universes. My mind boggles. “Mr. Grim?” I call out into the endless, shifting mist. A gentle hand comes to rest on my shoulder. I glance back, relief flooding me.It’s him.“Where are we?” I ask.
The reaper points ahead with his free hand. Light pierces through the darkness, and a swirling circular portal appears before us. I shield my eyes against the brightness, until they adjust, then squint ahead, a gasp escaping me. Another world manifests within the portal. A single word slips unbidden from my lips like a reverent prayer. “Beautiful.” I don’t need an explanation to understand what I’m looking at.
Endless green hills stretch from horizon to horizon. Glittering waterfalls spill into crystal-clear lakes, and flowers of every color known to man bloom from the verdant earth, breathtaking in their splendor. The sky is cloudless and goes on forever, eternally blue. I see people—other souls—all in their prime, enjoying the majestic paradise before my eyes. They run and dance, the sound of song and laughter ringing clear. Others sit together in pairs and family groups, reliving memories, lost in their own dreams of happiness and peace.
