The Darkest Kink, page 2
I grab her wrists and stop her. “No,” I snip. “You’re not in control. I am.”
She stops and grins at me.
“Oh. Yes, control me then, Sir.”
We lock eyes and I feel it happening. The beast steps to the door of its cage and waits there, drooling and panting as I unlock its prison. The gate swings open and it emerges, stalking to the forefront of my mind as I take a step back and let it have control. My body temperature rises and all of my senses heighten as I succumb to my darkest and deepest desires.
“Get down on your fucking knees right now,” I say, my voice barely sounding like my own.
Sierra’s grin melts into a sultry look of submission. She pauses for a moment, and I see the wonder in her eyes as she searches for recognition in mine. She scans my face trying to find the man she chose to drive here with, but she will find nothing.
He’s gone.
Slowly, she lowers to her knees, looking up at me from her spot on the floor in front of my door. Her dress scrunches even higher on her waist as she kneels, revealing her pussy to me and making my mouth water. I drop into a crouching position in front of her and look her in the eye, my face blank of all emotion and my mind twisting itself into knots with thoughts of what I want to do to her.
“You like adventure?” I ask.
“Yes, Sir,” she replies.
“You like an adrenaline rush?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You like taking risks and fucking men you don't know?”
She hesitates a beat, then answers. “Yes, Sir.”
I shake my head. “I haven't earned the right, yet you call me Sir and submit to me without knowing anything about me. That’s a dangerous game. Here you are now, locked behind my door, trapped in my cage with a dripping wet pussy and no idea how you’d escape if I was a psycho. Maybe that’s your thing. You like not knowing if the person you seduce at the club is insane or not, as long as the encounter ends peacefully with cum on your face or in your pussy. Isn't that right?”
Sierra doesn't answer this time, and I can see the wheels spinning behind her eyes. She glances at the door, surely wondering if she could get to it in an emergency.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” I begin again. “You’ve chosen me. You’ve chosen to submit to me. You already assigned our roles before knowing if I was worthy of mine. Luckily for you, I am. So I’m going to control you. I’m going to own you tonight. I’m going to fuck you senseless like the whore you are, then I’m going to kick you out of my home. How you get back to where you came from is not my concern. Tonight, you belong to me. Do you understand?”
She nods reluctantly, her eyes showing new signs of worry as they struggle to maintain eye contact.
I stand up. “Stay here.” Risking the possibility of her darting out, I leave Sierra by the door and walk into my den. I leave the lights off because I don't know Sierra. I don't want her getting a look at anything in my place, so I keep it hidden as I walk to a drawer and grab a pair of scissors. As I approach her with them, panic comes to life in her eyes but she doesn't move, held in place by fear.
“Relax,” I tell her as I crouch again. “Luckily for you, I’m not a murderer. Now, start nodding your head.”
She frowns at me. “What?”
“Start nodding your head, and don't stop until you hear a kink that’s a hard limit. Understand?”
She breathes a sigh of relief as she starts to nod slowly.
“Good,” I say as I reach between Sierra’s legs and cut one strap of her panties. “Bondage. Impact play. Breath play. Degradation. Blood play.”
Sierra stops nodding.
“Good girl,” I say before cutting the other side of her panties and pulling them off completely. I rub my finger over her clit and dip it inside of her, feeling how wet she is. I was right. She gets off on the adrenaline. “Nod again.”
She begins nodding again, and I continue my list. “Forced orgasm. Foot fetish. Shibari. Water sports.” She stops nodding again and I smile. “Figures. Bodily fluids freak people out.” While she eyes me, I rub my wet finger over her slit a second time and she shudders. “Your safe word is stranger, since that’s what we are to each other. Do you understand?” She nods. “Good girl. Now lick your lips and open that wet fucking mouth of yours.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Sierra does exactly as she’s told, licking her lips enthusiastically before popping her mouth open.
I stand up and begin undoing my pants. “Stick out your tongue like you did in the car.”
She sticks her tongue out just as I push my pants down and reveal my rock hard cock, swollen in all its glory with a thick vein running up the side. Her eyes widen when she sees it, but I waste not a single second. I step forward, grab her by the back of the head, and shove myself inside her mouth. I do it gently at first, gripping the sides of her head with both hands as I stroke in and out, wetting my thickness with her saliva until each stroke is smooth and slick.
“Keep your eyes on me,” I demand, looking down at her as I fuck her mouth. The beast roars to life and my grip on her head tightens. She tries to pull back but I push myself in further, fucking her face harder and letting out a roar. “Your mouth is so good. Fuck yeah. Open up for me and rub your pussy while I fuck your throat. Rub it.”
She's timid at first, but after a few seconds I sense her getting over her fear. She moans as her fingers find her clit and begin rubbing circles on it, picking up speed as I fuck her mouth relentlessly. Spit and drool fall off of her lips in long strings that land on her stomach and thighs, but we keep going. We’re not here for nice and slow. The beast is feeding, and it’s not afraid of a little mess.
As the urge to explode in her mouth starts to make itself known in my balls, I pull my cock out and drop into a crouching position. Sierra’s face is a mess of tears, streaked eye-liner, and smeared drool that coats her entire bottom jaw. She pants as I kiss her, my tongue being the aggressor this time while my hands find her throat and squeeze.
“Fuck yeah,” she moans into my mouth, making me pause.
“Yeah? You like being choked?” I inquire.
“I fucking love it. Nothing makes me come faster,” she answers proudly.
I use one hand to squeeze her throat while I slide two fingers in her soaking pussy. She tries to moan but the sound can barely squeeze past my grip.
“Yeah, you do like it. You're a soaking mess for me, aren't you?” I ask, rubbing her clit faster and squeezing her throat harder. The skin on her neck turns white beneath my fingers as her face begins to turn blue. I hear her wheezing, struggling to get air as I rub her clit. Her face tightens as she fists the bottom of her dress, tensing all of her muscles. “You gonna come for me? Huh, slut? You gonna come?” She nods her head and I don't relent. “Come all over my fucking hand right now.”
On command, Sierra’s face melts into orgasmic bliss as she lets out a guttural scream. I try to keep choking her and rubbing her clit, but her body goes into convulsions and I lose my grip as she slumps forward. She moans as her muscles spasm, and it’s a beautiful show to watch. It’s so much more fun to be a part of the show than to simply watch it from a chair in the audience. Nothing could beat the sight of a woman convulsing on my living room floor because I touched her in all the right ways and places. What could be better than having this effect on someone?
Sierra stays slumped forward on the floor, panting like a deep sea diver coming up for air. I fucking love it, and the excitement of knowing how wet she is makes me so hard I can barely stand it. I have to know what that wetness feels like on my cock. I leave Sierra a breathless, pathetic mess as I stand and walk back into my den where I grab a condom and make my way back to her.
I kneel on the floor in front of her and pull my belt out of the loops on my pants before pushing them down. “You like being choked, huh? Tell me how that orgasm felt.”
“So … so fucking good. Your fingers are magic,” she pants.
“Wait until you feel my cock. Turn the fuck around.”
I grab Sierra by the hair and use it to force her body into position. I spin her around and push her onto her stomach before climbing on top, snatching the dress up high onto her waist so that I have access to her pussy from the back. I sheathe my cock with the condom before looping my belt through its buckle and dropping it over Sierra’s head. She moans her approval as I grip the loose end of the belt for leverage and push my cock into her pussy.
“Yes,” she moans as I begin fucking her. “Choke me hard and fuck me, Evan. Be a fucking monster for me.”
“You want a monster?” I ask, tightening my grip on the belt. “You want to be fucked by a monster? Is that what you want? I’ll show you a fucking monster.”
I pull the belt until the muscles in my arm bulge so hard it hurts, and I pound in and out of Sierra’s pussy with no regard for her safety. I slam my cock into her with powerful, monstrous strokes that rock both of our bodies and send her wetness splashing like a lawn sprinkler. Over and over again I pummel her. Our skin slamming together echoes through the house like gunfire, and I lose myself in the moment. The beast screams to life, roaring as I feed it what it craves. It takes control and fucks Sierra without thinking about her at all. It is heartless and implacable, pulling the belt so hard I think it might snap.
I fuck her with everything I’ve got. All of the stress I feel about my job and the people I have to work with comes out through my cock. My frustration with my life and the terror and heartbreak of my childhood swirl into an angry concoction that sends me into a blind rage. I lose all sense of my surroundings. I don't even know where I am anymore. I only care about letting it all out on her.
I destroy Sierra’s pussy until an orgasm tears through me like a bolt of lightning striking a tree. It rips me limb from limb, zapping me of all my strength at once and I collapse onto her back like a sack of potatoes, completely spent.
I breathe heavily, seeing stars as sweat trickles down my face and lands on Sierra’s back. My body has no strength left in it, and I have to take a few minutes to catch my breath before I can even attempt getting up.
Sierra lays beneath me, her own energy having been fucked out of her. She doesn't move at all, which makes me proud because it means I did my job. She wanted to fuck a stranger and indulge on the adrenaline rush of it all, and I’m glad to have given her an experience she’ll never forget. No matter how many times she goes out to find another stranger to fuck, she’ll always think about the night she met me. I’ll haunt her memories like a ghost and I fucking love it.
Once I’m finally able to breathe regularly, I close my eyes and force the beast back inside its cage. Now that it has been fed, it calmly walks back into its prison cell and allows me to close the door. After the meal it had tonight, it won’t have to feed again for a long while.
I suck in a breath and peel my face off of Sierra’s sweaty back, finally sitting up straight and pulling my cock out of her. I remove the condom and carefully place it on the floor next to us before reaching up to grab the belt still tight around her neck.
“That was unbelievable,” I say, leaning forward. “I totally got lost in that. It was unreal. You good?”
Sierra doesn't answer.
“Hey, you okay?” I ask as I move up and notice her head lying flat on the floor, her eyes open but unblinking.
“Hey,” I say again, clamoring to remove the belt from her neck, but when I get it off, I notice the marks resembling broken blood vessels. There's even a little bit of blood from where the belt dug into her skin and tore it open.
“Hey, hey, hey,” I yell, grabbing her by the shoulders and turning her body over so I can see her face. Once she's on her back, I wish I would've left her face down.
She doesn't move a muscle. Her chest does not rise and fall with each breath, because she clearly isn't breathing. She doesn't blink. Her body is completely loose. Lifeless.
“What the fuck?” I whisper to myself, but that doesn't change what I know to be true.
I killed her.
Sierra is dead.
chapter three
My heart pounds so hard I can barely see straight as Sierra’s body lies on the floor in front of me. No movement. No breathing. No life. She’s dead. She’s actually dead. How could I have let this happen? The ligature marks on her neck tell me all I need to know, and I stare at them, frozen in place as the memory of the belt around her neck plays back in my mind.
I can see myself thrusting into her while using it as leverage. She asked to be choked. She wanted it, and I gave it to her better than she’d ever had. Before I fucked her, she’d had an explosive orgasm that splashed all over my hand like I’d tried to catch a water balloon. She was alive, panting as she tried to recover from the last time I choked her, and she wanted me to keep doing it. She begged me to do it hard and to become a monster for her. She egged me on and the beast in me responded the only way it knows how, but I never thought my beast could do such damage.
Staring at her body, I try to get my emotions in check. I didn’t mean for this to happen. It was never my intention to go to The Black Collar and pick up a woman to murder. I’m not a killer. While I do have certain desires and fantasies, murder isn’t one of them. I’m a Dominant and a sadist, and I only craved inflicting pain on her because she wanted me to. I gave her what she consented to. It just went too far.
In my shock, a flashback of my childhood rewinds and plays in my mind. I picture my abusive mother screaming at me for breaking a vase in the living room. While she’d been out doing God knows what with God knows who, I was playing with an old football in the only room that afforded me enough space to move around. In my head, I was pretending to be Peyton Manning, screaming “Omaha” before taking a three-step drop and hurling the ball into the air. If it landed squarely on the couch it was a touchdown, if it bounced off or landed anywhere else it was incomplete.
On this particular day, my aim was way off and I hit Mom’s vase, knocking it off the coffee table and breaking it into pieces as it hit the floor. I admitted my mistake when she got home, and as usual, she beat the living crap out of me for it. She even broke one of my fingers on my throwing hand so I wouldn’t be able to throw the football for a while without pain. It was terrible, but I did learn my lesson that day—don’t ever tell Mom the truth about a mistake again. Admitting fault in our house was akin to having a death wish, so I learned to keep secrets to avoid consequences. I got pretty good at it, too.
I scoot back, sliding my butt on the floor until I reach the wall behind me, and I sit there. I stare at Sierra’s body, hoping she’ll wake up and this will all have been a prank. I’d be livid about being tricked, but at least I wouldn’t have to worry about going to prison. But after twenty minutes she still doesn’t move, and I’m forced to think about my options.
Option one. I call the police and tell them that I accidentally strangled Sierra to death with my belt while we had sex on my floor. It’s not uncommon for people to engage in breath play and choking while having sex, and I’m sure the cops have seen much worse. It was an accident, and accidents happen, right?
Option two. I pack up my life and run away, leaving Sierra’s lifeless body to be found at a later date. People at my job will eventually start to ask questions about why I’m not showing up, and they’d probably send someone to my house to see what’s going on after I don’t answer their calls. It’d be one of them who discovers Sierra’s body. Either that or the smell of her decaying corpse would draw suspicion to the house and the cops would be called to investigate.
Or perhaps I was seen on video walking out of The Black Collar with Sierra tonight. Does the club have security cameras? If it does and the police ask for the footage, they’d see me leaving with her and wonder where we went. All they would have to do is get my information from my VIP membership with the club, and they’d know where I live and even have my credit card number. They’d have access to a treasure chest of private information about me, which would certainly draw suspicion from vanilla-minded people, and they’d be at my doorstep with guns drawn. I’d become a fugitive, living the rest of my life ducking and hiding from the ensuing manhunt. I’m twenty-eight years old and have no desire to spend the rest of my life running.
No, no, no. I’ll have to go with option three—get rid of the body and go on with my life as if this never happened. Killing Sierra was not a part of my plan to go out tonight, and I shouldn’t have to ruin my life over an accident. It’s true that I have a beast inside me that’s capable of going too far. Clearly. But I’m not a serial killer. I don’t spend my time hunting women down, stalking them so I can slit their throats and toss the bodies somewhere. I’m just a construction worker with an appetite for BDSM—a Dominant sadist with a fetish for inflicting pain. I admit to having strong, kinky desires, but I’m not a killer.
Option three it is. I spring into action, jumping to my feet and standing over Sierra’s body as I look around the room. My brain moves a million miles per hour trying to figure out exactly what I need to do to cover up this accident. How do I hide the broken vase from my mother? I can’t store the body in the house because it’s going to decay, and the smell would make the place inhabitable and wander out into the streets. It would probably take a while, but eventually someone would notice. So, I’ll have to keep it outside.
The backyard.
I dart toward my back door, nearly tripping over an old ottoman because the house is still dark. I reach the door and snatch it open. While it’s unlit and covered in shadows, I can see my backyard is nearly one hundred percent dirt, just like my front yard. This means no one will notice if I dig back here as long as I flatten it out correctly. If it were grass, it’d be clear that I ruined my yard by digging a hole in it. For the first time ever, I feel fortunate for living in a neighborhood where almost none of the yards have grass.
