Page 9

Huntsman

I wait, my patience wearing thin as I listen for the soft sounds of her breath, signaling she has fallen into a deep sleep. Quiet as death, I emerge from the shadows of her closet, my tall frame filling the space. My boots scuff lightly on the hardwood floor as I make my way to her bed. The sound seems to echo in the small room, but she doesn't stir.

I want to strangle her for what she's done. Betraying me by whoring herself to Kris fucking Kincaid. I saw what she did. The leather of my gloves creak as my hands clench and unclench at the thought. I'm fighting an inner battle. I want to wrap my hands around her delicate throat, feel her fear, and watch her beautiful eyes go wide.

I stand over her, my anger building, looking down at the stupid bitch sleeping peacefully in her bed. She has no idea of the danger she's in or the rage she's unlocked inside of me. Her pale skin almost glows in the moonlight. I imagine sinking my teeth into that soft flesh, marking her as mine. She's a challenge, a wild creature that needs to be tamed and punished for her disloyalty.

My eyes trace the curves of her body beneath the sheets. Even now, after her betrayal, my body responds to her. It's an infuriating desire that only adds fuel to the fire of my burning fury.

The anger I feel toward her, and myself for still wanting her is palpable. Yet, I can't deny the need I have for her. I remove one glove, then slowly, I pull back the blanket, exposing her sleeping form. My breath catches as I untie the belt of her robe, revealing her soft skin, my eyes trailing over her curves.

I see the marks on her body, the bites and scratches left by Kris. It fuels my fury and my desire. I want to make those marks my own. My gloved hand tightens into a fist at my side as I use my bare hand to stroke myself, my eyes never leaving her body.

The more my pleasure builds, the hotter the anger inside me burns. Yet I can't deny the need I feel for her. It's a battle between my instincts and my fury. I want to own her, but I also want to tear her apart for betraying me .

As my release builds, I think of how I'll mark her, taint her with my touch, and defile her while Kris watches, helpless. I finish myself off on her chest, not caring about the mess. I smear my release across her skin, marking my territory over the traces of Kris.

I almost want to wake her, to see the fear in her eyes as she realizes what I've done, but I resist. Instead, I slide my finger through the mess on her chest, dripping down her tits, and then I rub my come across her lips. When I'm done, I gently pull her robe back over her body, careful to cover her, erasing the evidence of my transgression.

I should kill her. A sinister smile plays on my lips as I imagine her, lifeless, her eyes wide and beautiful even in death. Whether she's dead or alive, it doesn't matter to me. Her body will be mine to take. At least in death she'd be mine alone, and I could have my way with her without worrying about her betrayals. I could keep her forever, preserved in death, untouched by anyone but me. But first, I'll make her pay. I'm going to punish her for her sins against me.

But not yet. My release only served to stoke the fire of my desire and anger. The rage and need coursing through my veins war with one another, each vying for dominance. I yearn for a different kind of release now, one that only death can bring .

I need to kill.

The need to kill is a beast inside of me, a savage, snarling creature that demands blood. I head toward town, eager to scratch the itch. The moon is full and bright, guiding me through the night as I make my way to the only place in this podunk town I can get a drink and a willing cunt, The Tipsy Elk.

At the bar, the usual sluts hang around, their eyes shiny with greed, hoping to latch onto some poor bastard to finance their drink-fueled nights. It's always the same pathetic game. The men with their wallets and the women with their gaping holes, each trading one for the other. At least here, everyone knows the rules.

My eyes land on the bar stool where Tori sits, waiting for me. She's one of the smarter whores, she knows how to play the game. After a while, they all get too attached, and start demanding more from me. But not Tori. She's the perfect fuck toy. Always ready and eager, happy to let me do whatever the fuck I want to her body, and never asking for anything in return .

I sit next to her, signaling the bartender for a drink. Tori leans into me, pressing her tits against my arm, a practiced move that should feel like affection but falls flat. I'm already thinking about how I'll fuck her, rough and hard.

In the back of my mind, there's a buzz, a voice that urges me to go to Ivy. The idea of her being with Kris, maybe even fucking him again, it provokes the beast inside of me. But I push the thought away. I'll deal with her later.

For now, I stand, taking my drink with me, and jerk my head at Tori. She knows the drill. No words, no pleasantries. She follows me to the back of the bar and into the grimy bathroom, locking the door behind us.

It's fucking disgusting in here, but Tori doesn't care. She's already on her knees, tugging at my belt. The bathroom stall is cramped, and reeks of piss and vomit. She's a messy bitch, but she knows what she's doing. It's one of the reasons I keep coming back.

My eyes roll back as her tongue teases me. It's almost like she's starving, and my cock is her favorite meal. But I need more than what I can get in this bathroom.

"Eager little slut, aren't you?" She looks up at me, her eyes shining with lust and something like adoration. It makes me sick. I grab her by the hair, relishing her small gasp of surprise, "Come on, lets go to your place."

"Really, you want to spend the night with me?"

I roll my eyes at her dumbass question, "Unless your lips are wrapped around my cock, keep your fucking mouth shut before you make me change my mind."

I drag her out of the back of the bar and walk the block down to the town's only trailer park. Her high-heeled boots click on the pavement as she struggles to keep up with my long strides. In the quiet of the trailer park, the buzz in my head grows louder. In my mind I can see Ivy, tied up on Kris's kitchen counter. The monster inside me starts to rage.

Tori's trailer is worn out and overused, just like her. Knowing exactly where I want her, I step inside, and lead Tori straight to the kitchen.

I shrug off my coat, pulling the rope out of the inside pocket before I toss it over a chair. Her eyes go wide, and for a moment, I think she might refuse. But then, she licks her lips, misunderstanding my intentions. "Oh, honey, you're kinkier than I thought."

"Strip," I order. Tori's eyes flick to the rope and back to me, but she obeys, slowly removing her clothes. My gaze rakes over her body, taking in her soft curves.

I push her toward the kitchen counter, ignoring her whimpers as her skin scrapes against the hard surface. I lift her up, sitting her ass down on the counter. After I bind her wrists with the rope, I secure them to the upper cabinet door just as I watched Kris do to Ivy.

I secure her ankles to the lower cabinets and when I step back, she looks like a mirror image of Ivy tied up in Kris's kitchen earlier.

I grip her throat with my hand. "You like this, don't you, slut?" It's not a question. Her eyes, wide with excitement and fear, tell me everything I need to know. She's mine to do with as I please. And she knows it.

I grab a knife from the sink. It's dirty, but what the hell do I care? It's about to get a whole lot dirtier. I see the fear in her eyes as she realizes what's about to happen. The thrill of it rushes through me, fueling the rage that's been building ever since I saw Ivy with Kris. Tori begins to shake her head, her eyes fixed on the knife in my hand.

I grab her face, squeezing her face between my fingers, shaking her head roughly. I force her to look me in the eyes.

"You don't get to tell me no. You asked for this, remember?"

"No, I didn't ask for any of this." She whines, her eyes now pleading, reflecting the moonlight streaming through the kitchen window. I walk back to my coat, my boots thudding on the dingy linoleum floor.

From my coat, I pull out my mask and a long, red wig, the same deep shade as Ivy's hair. I stuff the mask in my back pocket for now. Back at the counter, I place the wig on Tori's head, arranging it to mimic the way Ivy's hair falls around her face. With each touch, I can feel my need growing stronger. I need to punish her for what she did.

"That's better," I murmur, gently brushing the hair from her face. I run my fingers through the soft curls.

The blade glints in the dim light as I drag it lightly down her body, tracing the same path I'd watched Kris take down Ivy's body. The metal dances across her skin, leaving a faint, reddish line in its wake. I know she can feel it- the edge of the blade, the steel against her flesh. She has no idea who she's about to fuck.

I pull my brown leather mask from my back pocket and pull it over my head. Tori's eyes widen in recognition. When she starts to cry, I grab a dish towel, shoving it into her mouth to muffle her pitiful sobs.

"Shut the fuck up." Spittle flies from my lips as I lean in close. "You wanted to be bad. You asked for it rough. You wanted to be owned. Marked. Dominated. I'll show you what it feels like to be owned. Only good girls get rewards, bad girls get punished. And you've been so fucking bad."

I fist a handful of her hair, snapping her head back. "Haven't you!" I scream in her face. "You betrayed me!"

I know she can see the madness inside of me, and it only excites me more. My body hums as I bring the blade to her soft belly. Slowly, I press the tip into her flesh, and I begin my work.

Her muffled scream vibrates against my hand as I cover her mouth, the vibrations sending pleasure surging through me. I feel her sobs, her body shaking with them. She can try to beg all she wants, but I don't give a fuck. She brought this on herself.

"I'm giving you what you wanted. You begged for this. You wanted to be marked."

I use my body to hold her tightly against the cabinet. Slowly, I bring the knife back to her skin. This time, I press deeper, wanting to leave a mark that will last.

"Fuuuck." I curse as I watch the knife slice across her skin. My cock strains against my jeans. My body craving the release that comes with the kill.

"You should see your face, the fear in your eyes. It's so fucking beautiful." With each word, I slide the knife across her skin, leaving trails of crimson.

When I'm finished, I drag the blade up her cheek, collecting her tears as they run down her face. I lick the blade of my knife as I admire the work of art before me. The taste of her salty tears mixing with the metallic tang of blood on my tongue is almost enough to make me come.

It's a goddamn masterpiece. Her body strung up like wild game waiting to be gutted. 'WHORE' carved into her stomach, shining bright red like a glowing neon brand of shame. It's beautiful.

"Perfect," I whisper, tracing the marks with my finger lightly.

I unbutton my jeans and pull the zipper down. I pull my cock out, placing the knife on the counter within reach. I graze my fingers over the peaks of her tits, dragging my nails down her soft flesh, scratching her with my fingernails. I position myself between her legs, stroking myself. My hand tightens around her throat as I thrust into her.

"I know exactly what you are. You're a filthy whore who'll spread her legs for anyone. You'll let anyone fuck you, won't you?"

When I bite her ear, she lets out a muffled scream, her body shaking uncontrollably. I can feel myself getting closer. There's so much fear in her eyes; it's intoxicating. The perfect little plaything .

I continue to fuck her through her sobs, rough and hard. Music to my fucking ears. My knuckles turn white as I grip her thighs for leverage. I'm about to come when images of Ivy being fucked by Kris flash in my mind and my hands tighten around her throat.

I pull the gag from her mouth when I see the life begin to fade from her eyes, and it only makes me harder. I can feel my release building, tightening my balls. Her body starts going limp and I tighten my grip on her throat, reveling in the power I have over her. With one final thrust, I come, grunting my release as she takes her last breath. I hold her there, still inside her, our bodies frozen in that moment.

Her eyes are open, staring blankly at the ceiling. The fear has faded, replaced by nothingness. I lean back, pulling out of her, and wipe myself off with the dish towel before stuffing it back into her mouth.

I put my mask back into my coat pocket and begin to straighten my clothes. Her body will be found by morning, letting everyone know the punishments have started early this Christmas season.