Medusa smiled. She swaggered down the hall way, her nails digging into her arms as she comfortingly hugged herself. It was a twisted smile, one filled with disturbing imagination. Her lips tingled. She could still ever so slightly remember the taste of that scarlet liquid, what did she describe it as; 'juicy'? Taking an unexpected breath inwards she tilted her head up while gripping herself tighter. An alluring feeling somewhere deep in her lower stomach, something twisted in pleasure. She sighed, her eyes dilating in anticipation.
She wanted to be quiet, as not to disturb the subtle peacefulness that lurked in the stoned basement of her owned mansion of no-where. Doors, and more twisting hallways, uncountable flights of stairs, and finally, she was there.
The witch sighed in relief, "Just where I left you." She stared in empathy at the unconscious man, tied to the bedpost. Medusa snickered. Coldly. Lightly glaring with lust at the pain contorted face of the man she sat on the side of the bed, curving her back to peer over her shoulder at the victim.
His head lay off to the left, tilted upwards, just how she had left it. His arms folded over one another and stretched as far as they could reach past his head, just the way how she left them. His legs lazily sprawled and slightly twisted, just how she had left them. His dress shirt un-tucked and unbuttoned, just how she had left it. His undershirt roughly stretched and the bottom folded upwards on its own accord, just they way she left it.
Medusa reached over and lightly grazed his bottom lip with her thumb. His mouth was still bleeding, as was his neck. His crimson liquid crusting and staining his white dress shirt's collar and under shirt beneath it. Her smile faded to a look of pity, cupping the left side of his face with her right hand, gently. She gingerly stroked his lip again, leaning over him.
"Stein…Stein…wake up…Stein…" her coos soaked with empty longing. Her eyes still subtly burned with lust. She waited momentarily before she reached a point of satisfaction, knowing he wouldn't wake. She looked at his bound wrists with interest. The deranged man's own belt had been taken from his jeans to restrain his hands, unkindly. There was a stuttered breath as Medusa released his wrists from the metal bed-frame, a sort of painful yet relieving sound. She quietly snorted in amusement at this.
She studied his wrists, they were bruised, but not severely. She caressed them, rotating them gently in her hands and between her fingers for mere moments, then started to rub them harshly trying to get blood flowing back to his fingers. His brow furrowed and his mouth twitched open between her imbedding her fingers into his wrists and veins. She glanced at him emotionlessly, then back to her work. Medusa laid his arms down gingerly on the bed, still outstretched far past his head. Her nails grazed down to his ribs. She scooted his undershirt up so that it rested at the base of his sternum.
Medusa looked back up at his face with narrowed eyes, he hadn't seemed to have moved or even remotely felt what she was doing. Once she had softly traced over his protruding ribs, savoring every moment of it, she studied the rest of his body.
Stein was cold, he was pale and had deep dark rings beneath his eyes. His forehead was dampened with a cool sweat that mixed into his string of saliva and blood leaking from his mouth and the mucus oozing from his nose. His skin clenched itself to his bones adorned with small bumps, reacting to the luke-warm temperature of the room. There were minor cuts and bruises all over his body, the most painful for him were the puncture wounds on his neck, pulsating with irritation at the blood rushing to heal the inflamed and damaged area.
Medusa ran her finger down his neck from his chin to rest at the base of his neck. She suddenly raised herself from her sitting position and walked into the other room. There was a slight bustle of noise before she reappeared again, holding a small box filled with tubes and syringes, lubricants and lotions, sedatives and drugs. After pouring a small amount of a clear lotion onto her fingers she massaged at the holes and blood-sucked bruises on his neck with the syrup like material soaking her fingers. Medusa continued to dig her fingers lovingly into Stein's neck even as the scientist's eye-lids flickered and fluttered open. His eyes having to roll down from the back of his head to look at her with a glazed expression, confused of where he was.
The last thing he remembered was a sharp pain repeatedly piercing the skin of his neck and the wet feeling of a tongue lap up the trickling blood. Stein's eyes focused and he lurched, a disturbing pain racking his abdomen. He let loose a hoarse dry scream while his back arched as he twisted his neck, desperate to be set free of Her grasp. Her nails dug into the soft abused flesh of his neck, jabbing deep into his muscles as he went stiff and then fell limply back onto the bed, his eyes getting a glazed expression again as he gasped for breath.
"Shhh, shhh…" she sang lowly, almost a whistle. She stopped rubbing his neck and instead cradled his neck with her left arm, letting his head rest on the crevasse of her elbow while she caressingly wiped the mucus away from his cheek and upper lip. "Oh…" she whispered. "You poor thing, you look so cold…" her face fell to a deceiving softness, stroking his cheek and outlining his mouth.
He started struggle again. Kicking, or at least trying to move his legs as so, jolting his neck and arching his spine. She pushed down on his exposed shoulders and cooed directly into his ear, her hot breath relaxing his neck. "Shh, nothing's happening, nothing's going to happen….shh…" she stroked his head again, digging her fingers deeply into his thick hair. He was too worked up to simply close his eyes, but that rivaled how exhausted he was, too tired to fight.
Medusa cradled him again, this time propping him up against the air, simply supporting his lower back while the rest of him fell backwards like a rag doll. Her libido rising, her stomach twisted again with lustful intentions. She nipped at his neck, gently at first, but then began to tear lightly again at his skin. With no immediate response she rubbed her wet lips up and down his neck, further abusing it.
When he let loose a groan she stopped momentarily to take a study at him again, his abdomen seemed unusually tight. Laying him down again he pulled the edges of his jeans downwards. An oddly and coarse line revealed scraped flesh beneath the fabric, slightly sticking to the dark brown-green denim. He sucked in rashly. 'Anxiety' she thought. How cute. She grabbed his waist and raised it skyward, just enough for her to bend and kiss the scar. She must've scratched him with her toenails before…at one point…
Medusa pitied Stein, how cold and starved he must be…she slithered her way calmly and delicately up his body, rolling his undershirt back down, bringing his arms back in, and even being so kind enough as to pull over a blanket from the opposite side of the bed. She lay herself on him, not being remotely shy as to press her body against his as hard as she dared. He let loose a groan, or was that a whine in pain? She lightly laughed to herself as she wrapped her arms around him. Cradling his neck once more and wrapping an arm around his back, gently squeezing his shoulder blades.
She needn't say anymore, she didn't need to. As much as he may deny, or may not know it, he was hers. Medusa knew, and she wanted to take all the advantage of that knowledge that she could coil her fingers around. She pushed herself up, slowly riding her knee up between his legs, crudely into his crotch. Medusa reached his shoulders. She made herself at home. Nuzzling her head up directly under his chin, forcing his jaw up, she kissed his neck gingerly…over and over again.