Page 168 of Degradation

I dig my hands into his bare thighs, I impale him with my nails, and he rewards me by biting my shoulder hard.

“Fuck, Devin,” I scream as that extra pain only makes everything even better.

“Do you know what’s in your cunt right now?” He asks.

I shake my head. In truth I don’t care what it is. He could shove his entire fist in me and right now, I’d still thank him for it.

“My knife,” He says. “I’m fucking you with my knife.”

I gulp, wondering why it’s not slicing me up, and then I realise, it has to be the handle inside me, only, that means he’s holding onto the sharp end.

I shudder, imagining the scene, imagining what we both look like, me with my diamond encrusted nipples that have to be turning purple by now and Devin with his bloodied hand wrapped around the blade as he fucks me over and over with it.

A giggle escapes me. How my mother would be horrified at what her perfect, pure little daughter turned into. How the Brethren would condemn me for this. I’ve become everything I’m not meant to be. Everything I was carefully conditioned not to become.

I realise there’s a weightlessness that comes with surrendering to the darkness, to the parts of yourself you’ve been taught to fear and deny. In this moment with Devin, there’s no longer any room for fear. There’s only acceptance. Only love, in its most primal and unrefined form.

“You said I was an angel, Devin,” I whisper. “And if that’s true, then you’re the devil come to drag me to hell.”

He growls in ascent, twisting the hilt against that delicious part of me that makes me feel otherworldly.

“Do it, Devin,” I scream. “Drag me down, drag me with you. I’m your wife now, the bride of the very devil himself. Mark me with your blood, let me drink it, cover me with it, claim me with it.”

I know he’s as turned on by my words as I am. I can feel the way his body his moving differently, the way his breath has altered.

My devil. My actual devil of a husband.

I feel him drop the blade, feel his hand move up my body and, as that warm, wetness spreads, I know what it is, what he’s smearing all over my body. He brings his fingers to my mouth and I moan, sucking them in, sucking the blood off - his blood.

He tastes like me, he tastes of copper and darkness and every fucked up thing imaginable. I don’t know what I expected but I didn’t expect that.

He’s still driving his cock in and out of me, but the movement has slowed. I can hear the sounds of his flesh slapping into me. I can hear the squelching of my body as he penetrates me.

“Cut me.” I beg. “Make me bleed too.”

He doesn’t need asking twice. He grabs the knife, pulling it free from my cunt and he places the hilt against my lips. I suck it in, suck all my arousal from the blade before he pulls it free.

I hiss as he drags the very tip down, between my breasts, down to the bottom of my ribcage and to almost where my bellybutton is.

It’s not a deep cut but it’s enough. He’s quick to fling the knife and then he’s laying me down, spreading my legs so wide, and his tongue is working its way up, lapping at my blood, lapping at my body, devouring every piece of me.

I move my hands to cup my breasts and I arch my back, increasing that pressure on them while also making my pussy as wide as possible for him.

He sashays his tongue down, and I know he’s smearing my blood all over me. Baptising me with it.

I’m being reborn, in act that feels like both an exorcism and a communion.

Devin growls out, turning manic as he starts tongue fucking me and I can feel his hand working away, feel him jerking himself off.

I writhe and I moan, and I wait for the moment that I know is coming, the moment where he’s going to cover me, and as his hot come spurts out, I open my mouth, I spread my pussy with my fingers, and I welcome him in both my holes.

He moves to lay beside me. His breath is ragged against my neck, his heart pounding in rhythm with mine.

We are one now. Both of us, joined, united, equally as fucked in the head.

Devin

Ican tell Paitlyn is on edge.