18. My Favorite Popsicle

The muscles in my body can't take much more of this. My psyche can't take any more.

I never imagined my first time with a living human would include being spanked, almost burned, then fucked in every hole except for one. I'm satiated and spent, but he's not done with me.

He hefts me into the air as if I'm weightless. I think I've died and been reborn as a bird. I'm straddling Johnny on the table. As I'm about to question my intruder as to what he"s doing, he forces me down on my favorite popsicle, spearing my sex. He's made me into a kabob on Johnny's dick. I'm on cloud nine at being stuffed once more. However, all I can think of doing is closing my eyes and taking a nap. My cheek rests against his cool chest as my eyes drift closed. There's a clank and shift of the table, but I don't care about what's happening around me as long as I'm this close to Johnny. If this is how we are to say goodbye, then I'm okay with falling fast asleep as the world burns down around us.

I rub my cheek along his cold pec and twitch at the prickle of discomfort. The underside of my chin stings with that blatant reminder from Dr. King. Or should I say Dr. Evil? Or maybe Dr. Sadist? That would seem to fit him better.

A warm hand slips between my legs, collecting the moisture that's slick and riding down my thighs before gliding my arousal to my ass. The overstimulation causes a shiver to rush through me. I can't take any more of this.

"Please, no," I beg without moving. All the strength has been zapped from my body, leaving me a shell of a human being.

"You're loving this," he states, rubbing circles around the tight ring of muscle. I'm too exhausted to protest. "You can just lay there if you want, that"s fine by me. You won't be the first unconscious chick I've fucked, but you are the prettiest. However, I'll need you awake when I begin covering your body with my marks."

A whimper escapes my lips because that's all I can muster. My body fights any effort of refusal. His finger pushes into my ass, and a level of euphoria takes me hostage I didn't know existed. The whimper that left my lips is replaced with an almost tangible sound, and I swear I see my soul attached to it floating away on dust particles, gleaming as the fluorescent lights bounce off them.

"See baby? I know what your body likes. All you have to do is trust me," he brags as he adds another finger. I've never felt this full before, and absolutely no one warm and breathing has given me their undivided attention in this way.

The meticulous maneuvering of his fingers restores the quaking in my muscles. A shudder vibrates through my limbs as I rock back and forth on Johnny's cock. My overstimulated bundle of nerves shocks me with even the slightest movement as I rub against his abdomen.

"That's it, come for me, Dead Girl," Dr. King instructs, and as if on command, my body obeys. I honestly didn't think I had anything left in me, but my pussy begs to differ as another warm gush slickens my folds and Johnny's abdomen. "I told you I'm not the sick one here. You're the one fucking my dead brother and loving every minute of it."

"We're both pretty sick, don't you think?" I moan.

His chuckle is manic as he removes his digits and straddles his brother"s legs behind me. I'm confused at how we got into this position before I remember the clanking noise from before. It was him climbing onto the table. Just when I've worked it all out, the head of his dick finally enters me, gliding through my tight ring of muscle. There's a slight stretch of pain the deeper he presses his length into me. The more he pistons in and out, the quicker that burn is replaced with absolution.

"Fuck, you take me so well," he growls, grabbing a fist full of my hair and pulling me flush against his chest. God, this man has a major hair-grabbing kink. He grabs my breast with the other, roughly using it for leverage while also pinching my nipple.

Dr. King ruts my ass ruthlessly as he gets closer to his climax. Our flesh collides, clapping to the beat of a song I can't hear. I don't realize I'm crying until tears drip from my chin onto my chest. This is the only outward sign to show that my mind is protesting while my body is accepting. An animalistic roar from him rushes like a tidal wave in my ears. Then he's motionless. The only thing moving is his chest as he heaves against my spine and the throbbing of his dick as he empties himself inside me. When he pulls out, it only adds to the mess between my legs. He releases his hold on my hair, and I collapse with a hollow thunk against Johnny.

If Johnny could move, I'd imagine he"d hold me right now. He'd whisper sweet nothings to console me. But this isn't a dream, and that isn't possible. Reality is harsh, hitting me like an eighteen-wheeler. Johnny resides in my heart and mind, not in the physical world where I'm forced to live.

The metallic noise of Dr. King's zipper closing wakes me from my orgasmic daze. I blink away the haze from my eyes and watch as my intruder adjusts the bulge in his pants. His stance is relaxed and his movements are sure. Nothing like me and my limp, exhausted form. I would probably walk like a baby fawn if I stood up. He flashes me a smirk, proud of his conquest. Me being fucked by him while also being fucked by the brother that lies dead beneath me. I wasn't willing, but I liked it. He predicted my body would love being used by him, and he was right. However, while my body is sated my mind is yearning for answers to questions I'm too high to form. I'm hollow, spaced out, as I stare unseeingly in his direction. My vision blurs, skewing the images before me into blurry shapes. I press my ear to Johnny's chest and am lulled by subtle ocean waves. I'm focused on the quiet static before warmth graces my cheekbone. The living brother's hand cups my face, caressing my cheek with his thumb. It's unexpected and gentle, causing my heart to swell and ache with longing for connection. Someone who finally accepts me for me. But he's also threatened to kill me, so there's that. Test tubes half full of embalming fluid and all.

"You should really get a new cadaver. This one's breaking," he informs, taking a hammer to my fragile emotions. I'm vulnerable, blinking back tears when he adds, "No need to waste precious liquid on this human trash bag. I'll be seeing you soon. Maybe we'll acquire you a more fascinating specimen. You have access to a superior version now anyway."

I just need him to go. So much has happened in such a short time. My heart rate kicks up a notch and my gaze flicks to his greens, peering down at my limp form.

"Leave me alone," I growl.

My fingers dig into the hardened chest beneath me, and I begin to shake. This has been traumatic enough. I was planning on saying goodbye to Johnny tonight with no thoughts of another to replace him, but something is ripping me up from the inside. My mind is a maze of possibilities and unlocked desires that I can't seem to decipher.

"You don't mean that," he assures.

I groan in response. "Please."

"Say your farewells to my brother, would you? You and I are bonded. I find this sick and twisted desire of yours incredibly intriguing. The fact that you can't tell a soul is even more appealing."

With that…threat....or promise?...hanging in the air, he saunters out the door, leaving me to my own pity party. What have I gotten myself into? A deal with the devil, it seems.