Chapter 33

Stars floated around my head and I shuddered, and then the tangy taste of blood pooled over my tongue, almost as fast as it was over my thigh. I could feel nervous and heated sweat trickling down my forehead. I rolled my head back to try and diminish the pain that consumed me, but it was no use.

Damon broke into a fit of laughs and pushed down harder with his knife against the sensitive skin inside the fold of my pussy, twirling it in a pattern. I begged and pleaded for him to stop but it only fuelled him to drive harder. What the fucking fuck was going to happen to me?

"Fuck, you're going to make me cum if you scream like that again. That sound is just too nice. You… in pain, is my favorite noise you make." Damon snarled erotically. I couldn"t be certain of how long this lasted, but immense amounts of air hurried into my lungs when he stopped. I shivered, becoming aware that Damon had carved the initial of his last name, W.

I worked hard in catching my breath but the unwelcoming sensation of blurr at my eyes again hit me like a drunken sailor. Now that he had stopped, I could feel the rest of my body. The stab wound on my thigh was trickling uncontrollably. I couldn"t look, because I knew that if I did, I would be wearing a layer of bile along with the blood.

Damon"s tongue rolled over his lips, arousal was well and truly at his disposal. "Now… the other side."

I shook my head in disbelief, and the snot and tears blew out with a cough, though I wasn"t certain they were tears this time. Unable to speak a single word, I fitted into a shock of tremors as he started to carve another pattern on my other labia… my left one. The pain plunged my mind into a state of near unconsciousness, only able to hear the ringing in my ear and blurred lines in my vision. It stopped again and this time, it was the initial D.

"D.W… fuck." He groaned under his breath, taking a step back to admire his handy work. "That pussy looks fine wearing my name."

I ignored him, barely processing his words. My chest was aching from heaving and the snot spouting from my nose made it hard to breathe. I caught sight of his erection throbbing vigorously against his jeans, if it throbbed any harder it was going to tear through them.

"It"s a pity really. Because, no matter how many times I do this, no one is going to see this, in the flesh anyway. Pardon the pun "lil piggy." I stared at him emptily, barely holding on. I needed to fight this, if I passed out what would happen to me? He would fuck me. Though, what was worse? Being awake while he raped me… or was it a blessing to be insensible while he did? I blinked away the sweat that trickled into the grove of my eye, pushing away my intrusive thoughts.

"Well, that is before the maggots and humidity decompose your flesh, leaving you as nothing but an empty corpse." He wiped my blood from his knife with the cloth that was around my mouth.

I gulped and panted slowly. It was inevitable. I was going to die at the hands of Damon, and the only thing I could think of was how much I wanted to be in the arms of Huxley. I would rather die a thousand deaths for Huxley than one for Damon. Denial was a fucking bitch… love was a fucking bitch. I was in love with the shadow man, my God damn fucking shadow. If only I could tell him… Could I?

The camera was still recording. I summed everything in my being and let it out. "I. Love. Him." I sobbed, barely able to format the words, but nonetheless, they came out clearly. I dreaded the next reaction Damon would give me. Would it be the bullet to my head? Or would I get another initial carved somewhere else?

Not that it meant anything now. Huxley wasn't here. He would never find me. Damon would probably just cut out the bit in that video. I was only fooling my damn self. He probably wouldn't even come looking for me. Maybe Damon was right, that he would just fixate himself on another helpless victim. Suddenly, I felt a shift in my body. Like my heart sank, was this… heartbreak? Was this what that felt like?

Damon laughed as if he knew my exact thoughts. "Too late for that now. You"re mine, not his." He offered me a wink before rolling his head around a circle, loosening his shoulders like he was about to run a marathon, and blew a rapid blow of air. He pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked one of the padlocks that were secured around my ankle and the shackle on the floor.

He left the chain wrapped around it and repeated the same process on my other leg, and then started unthreading the ropes binding around my legs. Both legs freed and I grimaced from the sudden movement, but I didn"t close them. As much as I wanted to, there was no way I could move my leg without the gash spouting, it had only just lowered to a steady trickle. Damon was quick with his movements and yanked my left leg across to the other side of the chair, pulling my limb with the pressure, and then locked it into place at the shackle.

I cried out and then he brought my right leg in front of my leg leg and padlocked it to the other shackle. I was now cross-legged. The pain intensified and the alarm bells in my ears rang loud again. I was hurting in three different places. My thigh from the stab, both legs from muscle stretching like a pretzel and the burning sensation on my pussy as both of my labia were now colliding.

He loosened the rope that was around my stomach and untied my wrists. I couldn"t tell if I was still immobile from the drug Huxley had given me or because I had been bound for so long, but I could barely move, a slight wriggle was all I could bear. Damon pulled me upright and held me in position. The muscles in his arms swelled against his skin as he held the weight of me, not that there was much of me left. He spun me so that my legs untangled, now facing the back of the chair.

"Sit." He commanded.

"But I.." I felt dizzy even speaking a few words, but pushed them out. "I can't move my legs."

"Then fall." He said with a grin. Damon let go of me and my body trembled, swaying slightly with my weight on one leg. My head pounded with fog and vertigo, taking my breath away. Damon scoffed impatiently and pushed me. I don"t know how but I managed to land on the chair correctly with my legs to the side. He padlocked me in place to the shackles on the floor and started tying me with rope to the chair. I sobbed again and buried my forehead into the chair, letting myself drift slightly.

He threaded the rope over my thighs, pulling them tight and then secured my stomach against the back of the chair, before my wrists behind my back. My breasts were firmly pressed against the chair. Pinned tight, unable to move.

"Mmm, fuck." Damon groaned. I shuddered from his arousal. "He wasn't joking when he said you looked good in ropes. But now you're bound for me, and not him. I couldn't think of anything better. And your ass at that angle… ah, fuck me. I can't wait to tear it open. I do love a chubby bitch, more to carnage."

"Rot in hell!" I spat but it only made him smirk with glee.

"I hate that I didn't get to be the first to rip through your canvas, though I will be your last. Crimson is my favorite color, and a knife is my favorite brush."

He ushered to face me and pulled himself from his jeans, freeing his erection. The veins were pumping hard against his skin like his arms were. My mouth dried and I was very unready for what he was about to do to me. I'm going to fuck you. I'm going to fill this little cunt with my cum while he watches. I"m going to mark my territory. Damon"s corrosive words punched me in the gut.

"Now… you're going to be a good little slut and open wide for me." I said with a cocked brow.

I curled my lip but did as he said. He slammed two fingers into my mouth, shoving right to the back of my throat. I gagged on impact, feeling the tear on my cheek again. Saliva pooled under my tongue and dripped out of my mouth.

"Rules, Esme. If you clamp down on me, I hurt you. More than I did to that little cunt of yours, and this spot right here..." He pressed his fingers under my tongue and then pressure on my thigh, only enough to make me react. But it was enough to send circles in my head. But still, I didn"t clamp his fingers between my teeth, proving my ability to follow orders. Clearly not enough of a response.

"Do you fucking understand?" He hissed, pressing into my mouth a little harder. I cried out and coughed for mercy. His antagonising blackened eyes pounded through my nearly lifeless ones, through the glass of tears and defeat I nodded, submitting to all the weakness he desired against my will.

And with that, he shoved his length into my mouth. Grabbing the sides of my head as he rolled his head back against his thrusts, the tip of his shaft hitting the nether of my esophagus. My throat swelled to take all of him and I gagged hard, though I had experienced him in my mouth before, he penetrated with much more effort. I panted whatever breaths I could scrummage through my snot-filled nose as he pulled and pushed himself into building his climax. I accepted it without the opportunity of rejection or denial.

Unless I wanted a bullet to my head... which I wanted. Very much so. But I had to hold on to the glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, my shadow might come looking for me. After all, he was the best stalker I knew. He had found me once before.

Lathers of white started to collect around my lips and his moans were aggressive and feral, like a wild animal. He was pulling my hair as balance, tingling the scalp, but that was the least of my pains. I needed to focus on my breathing, and the only way I knew I could manage that, was the thought of Huxley.

I pinched my eyes closed and let my mind wander. I imagined him finding me, I imagined that he wanted me just as much as I wanted him. Because the truth was, I needed him, no matter how much death was at my doorstep for him. No matter how much the darkness cloaked him.

I was theoffering. His offering… for his freedom. I wanted him to see this video more than ever. And if Damon was right, it would destroy Huxley entirely by him watching Damon hurt me like this. Was my suffering enough motive to never stop looking?

I battered my eyes to Damon pulling himself from my mouth, and then staggered somewhere behind me. I prepared myself mentally for his excessively large, warm cock to fill my entrance, but I could only elicit a feral scream as if my soul had exited my body for what actually inserted me.

A cold, metallic sensation rippled through my folds with great force.

The barrel of his gun.

Damon twisted and twirled the gun"s shaft in a rhythmic pattern, teasing and caressing the spot in my pussy. I cried out hard to the torment, my brain splitting into two. Denial and self-pity. It did something to me I didn't think could. What the fuck. I scolded myself again, trying to think of anything else other than the possibility of me enjoying this. But the vision of Huxley doing this instead of Damon sent an involuntary breathy moan to part my lips and my muscles to mindlessly contract around it. Oh no… fucking hell no.

"Twisted. Fucking twisted." He growled as he pushed it deeper. I squirmed as his finger collided with my clit.

I grumbled from my stupidity and more tears plummeted down my cheeks, this time from my own betrayal and confusion. I was turned on. By a fucking gun. My pussy really did have a mind of its own. It was controlling my head. I hated that. I hated that so much. After twenty-one years I had finally been shown pleasure, how to receive it, how a clit works, and to want and desire pleasure, to crave it and need it. It didn't take a rocket scientist to diagnose this as fucked up.

I knew this was fucked up. I was being fucked by a gun, and I was liking it. Not just because Damon was fucking me with it, but because I was imagining my psychopathic sadistic serial killer, whom I was in love with, doing it to me.

Gah! What is wrong with me?

"Squeeze." Damon hissed, interrupting my trance. Thank the Lord… fuck the Lord. But what did that mean?

"What?" I merely whimpered.

"Tighten your pussy." He snarled as he pushed the gun harder against my belly. I moaned and squirmed to the heavenly pressure on the sweet spot, almost entirely ignoring the stinging sensation from his knuckles brushing up against the cuts on my labia. I squeezed, hard. I could feel every curve and edge of the barrel rubbing against my internal walls. "That's it, squeeze that little cunt Esme."

"Oh shit." I stuttered. No! don"t moan you stupid girl. Fear and arousal swarmed through my veins. There was no fucking way I would live with myself if I had an orgasm from a gun.

"Now soften." I did and he swirled my clit with his finger. "Good." His praise left a sour taste on my tongue. I did not like that. And just when I thought it couldn't get any worse. It did.

"Ow." I bellowed. Feeling my pussy stretch and take an astronomical amount of pressure. I choked on my own hitched breath to the rush of Damon's cock, and his gun as they thrust into me. My head was doing circles. I was messed up. I should be in a hospital for my wounds and a psych ward for my fucking problems. Who the fuck was I? I had completely lost sight of myself. Esme?

No. Not Esme...Slut.Whore.Pet.Diamond.Swallowtail.Cunt.Freak.Piggy.

Just a few names that come to mind. Damon slid two fingers along the swollen fold of my pussy, collecting a stream of blood and my juices before drawing them to his mouth. His long tongue glided up his fingers and lapped up the concoction of which was me. A deep feral growl formed in his chest. "Fuck you are delicious. Desperate and twisted."

He pulled the gun and himself from inside me, leaving a hollow emptiness. "Taste yourself." He muttered. I shook my head because this had gone way too far. No. I wouldn"t. But he put the gun to my mouth, tapping at my lips to open. I gasped from the smell of my sweetness as it intoxicated my brain, Damon saw this as an invitation clearly, slamming the barrel in. The mixture of metallic, sweetness, and wetness swirled over my tongue.

"Desperate and fucking twisted." He mocked again, repeating his profanity.

I don"t know why, but I puckered my wounded cheeks and slurped up the liquid that had ventured down the barrel of the gun. Swallowing the contents as though it were a drink of water from a straw. My eyes widened, realising what I had done and seeing that Damon"s face was just as shocked as mine.

"Fuck, you swallowed yourself too. Shit." Damon threw the gun onto the floor and ushered behind me again, shoving himself inside me with haste. I cried out in defeat, only having the option to take all of him as he grabbed my waist, and then thrust hard allowing himself to unfold.

No! I said, but the words didn"t quite reach my lips. He moaned and hummed as he deposited his warm liquid in my pussy, filling me so much that it pulsated around him and spouted like a fountain, dribbling out of my pussy and pooling onto the chair.

He finally stilled, leaving me disgusted with myself and nothing to say. He fixed himself back into his jeans, before hitting the stop button on the camera.

"Now, if you'll excuse me." He snapped a low tone as he put the phone, and gun into his pocket and then walked to the door behind me.

"Wait! Where are you going?" I called out.

"Oh come on, you're a smart girl. We're in the middle of nowhere. How ever would I send this to him without signal? When I do, I'll burn it so he can't trace it. And then leave you here to rot. Chow." He taunted with a devilish grin turning his lips. "Wait no! No! Damon? Please don't leave me here." I sobbed heavily.

"No!" And with that, he was gone. The wind from him closing the door almost blew out the candle in the corner, but the blue little flame held itself together, much like I was. My only shred of light. My only hope. Darkness eventually surrendered itself to me and I faded into a heavy state of heat exhaustion.