It’s watching her from the backyard, clouded by the darkness of the night.
The rain pelts down, smacking into the concrete and splashing against the backyard fence. IT supposes this rain would sting once upon a time – and maybe it still does, but it is entirely distracted by HER. It had been watching her each night for the past week now, ever since it first saw thorough her through the window and became enamoured.
She is standing at the kitchen bench, digging her spoon into her ice cream. Her dark hair falls down past her shoulders, covering her nipples that are tenting through her thin green t shirt. It can hear her heart beating…
Thumping surprisingly fast – and this makes it excitable. It has to stop itself from taking her then and there. Patience is key. This had to go to plan.
The woman exhaled, rubbed her ice blue eyes and pulls her panties out of the curve of her ass. The very movement leaves a dull ache of arousal on her cheeks.
It’s eyes scan her legs – White as snow. Like the myth from long ago.
She moves to the kitchen, packs away the ice cream. All the while, it watches her hips sway hypnotically.
It can hear heart beat..
The sound is like a weak baseline to It’s ears.
The woman turns off the light — the time is now.
It goes like this: The woman turns off the light and there instantly comes the sound of breaking glass from behind her.
Little does she know, It has drove it’s body at full force through the glass door, sending glass shattering across the room in thousands of pieces.
The woman feels a faint prick on her arm…feels a gush of wind..and as she goes to squeal, cold hands grip her on either side of her waist and pull her forward. All this happens in a split dizzying second.
Before she can even grunt at the force these cold hands bring upon her, the wind gets knocked out of her. She feels a sharp prick where her neck should be and tears sting her eyes.
The cold hand whips back her hair and she stumbles against the kitchen bench, her head dizzy and her vision fuzzy.
And something else…something sticky and warm running down her neck, down her thin t shirt. It tickles her nipples. She recoils but the cold hands hold her in place.
There’s a tickling sensation in her cunt, a sudden feeling of arousal. She tries to throw her arms up in defence but she’s too weak and dizzy. She’s helpless, bound to lay there.
Again she feels another prick, as if the something lodged in her neck departs. She tries to move once more – but nothing. Nothing but the tickling sensation In her cunt. It causes her muscles to tighten and clench. This makes it more pleasurable.
Then…she feels a tongue, wet and cold. It kisses down her neck. She tries to scream but it comes out as something between a grunt and a moan.
It lowers its cold mouth on her breast and sucks her nipple into its mouth. She feels like crying but something hits her, a fact so horrifying and bleak – she finds this arousing. It eases the tickling in her cunt.
It moves to her right breast and clamps it’s cold mouth down on her small nipples. Her head jerks upright in an involuntary reaction. Shivers shoot down her stomach and down to her sweet cunt, now slick with arousal.
It grunts in the darkness and the suction on her nipple builds. Something in her still tries to fight back even in her arousal but It keeps her still, keeps its mouth on her tit.
This is the point in time where the woman finds herself rocking her hips into the creature. When she catches herself doing this, she freezes and stops. No, she has to fight back.
For all the pleasure, she can feel the throb, she can feel that sticky warmth pooling around her breasts.
She tries to slid out from underneath but that’s when it grips her even tighter and she falls back into the throes of pleasure, back into submission.
The woman finds herself bucking her hips…something is building..something is…it can’t be…this is…this can’t be…the ticklish cunt, the pleasure of it suckling her nipple, it’s cold hands on her hips, the warmth around her breasts adding to the sensation somehow.
Touch me, something inside her screams..but she mustn’t, she has to get out of there..
The cold mouth pries open her own lips and searches for her tongue. She tries to move her head away, FIGHTS to move her head away but…nothing. She can’t break free. She gives in to the kiss of death.
Cold hands tug at her nipples…pulling them…squeezing them…twisting…twisting, stretching. She hears a sound: a woman’s cry: her own. Her own arousal. She’s moaning, sharp disgruntled sounds. Something she’s never recognised. This is her? This is her own screams? Her own arousal? No..it can’t be..it can’t…
She accepts the forceful kisses, the forceful hands. She is an instrument it plays. She cannot escape. She can feel it near…building. How long has been laying here now? Being tortured like this?
But…? But she can’t. She has to get out of there. She has to..
It shoots across her body, from head to toe and down into her cunt, which squirts in short sudden spurts across the cold kitchen tiles. She screams, a mix of horror and intense pleasure, as her orgasm washes over her, as her cunt spasms in short bursts as the last of her delicious fluid leaves her.
Then she collapses against the cold tile floor, twitching, breathless, satisfied, terrified.
She feels a jolt of pain, a sharp stab as it sinks it’s teeth into her breast.
And she falls back into throes of pleasure, back into submission.