Chapter Twelve: Fuck Me to Death

As Stormfront and Homelander cleaned up the mess in the Vought building, hours and hours in the opposite direction, Butcher was certain his heart might stop as he waited in the silent void for Olivia to speak.

Olivia's pea-sized pituitary ejaculated hormones that simultaneously stimulated all her glands from the base of her brain to her ovaries as she tried to compose the simplest of sentences.

In a moment composed completely in biocentrism, Olivia felt herself nodding, at first a barely perceptible dip of her chin before Butcher could feel something uncoil inside as he wrapped her up in the overwhelming strength of his embrace.

As Butcher's lust began to replicate at an explosive amount and he was torn between fucking her in the parking lot before or after a quick shopping trip, hours, and hours away in his penthouse apartment, Dr. Craig Dalton hissed with pain as he took a lukewarm shower. The spray of water sent pricks of pain through his raw and sore skin where Stormfront used him as a blowup fuck doll.

Craig scrubbed his face until the soap bubbles stung his eyes.

He couldn't help but let out a shriek that could've rivaled a big-titted college girl running from a masked maniac waving a chainsaw in the eighth installment of a horror movie when Stormfront's voice called from the doorway of the spacious bathroom.

"Good evening Dr. Dalton," Stormfront purred.

Craig turned the water off and cowered in the tile corner. "What more do you want? I've told you everything I know, everything," he babbled when Stormfront ripped open the shower door.

"I just want to visit a bit doctor, that's all," Stormfront murmured as she dragged her eyes lavisciously over his cowering, wet body.

Craig blinked up at the Supe, her hard, strong body looking like it was dipped with latex. The suit clinging to her skin so tight that the blood flow to every muscle was visible.

Stormfront smiled sweetly and tossed a pile of clothes on the floor that she had plucked from his mahogany dresser. "Get dressed, I have something I want to show you."

Craig hastily pulled his clothes on over his damp skin, Stormfront waited on the balcony, the brisk night air kissing her skin as she waited.

Before Craig left the bathroom, he rooted through the medicine cabinet for anything that could be a weapon. He blew out a nervous breath and sorted through the cabinet under the sink until he could find the zippered shaving kit that had belonged to his father.

"Where is it? Where is it?" he whispered frantically and was able to take a relieved breath when he found the bag and soon had his hands on his straight shaving razor.

Craig tucked the folded blade in his pocket before joining Stormfront on his penthouse's balcony. "Come with me Craig," she said and held out her hand towards him.

"Where are we going?" Craig asked feebly, cringing at how frightened he sounded.

"It's a surprise Craig, come on now," she repeated as her smile became more toothy and slightly sinister.

Craig felt rooted in place as he stared at Stormfront's outstretched hand.

Before Craig could process, Stormfront swept him up in her arms. She was soon holding him like a bride she was about to carry over the threshold. "Hold on doctor," she whispered into Craig's ear before flicking her tongue against the soft, pale lobe.

Craig shouted in shock as Stormfront rose into the air with him and soon found himself flying through the sky rises and over a famous bridge that had been used in several big budget films.

As Stormfront held Craig close to her chest, continuing to fly through the sky, back in the mall parking lot, Butcher felt his lust begin to implode as he started fumbling with her clothes.

"Don't we need to leave?" Olivia managed as Butcher's hands yanked at her pants.

Butcher chuckled as his eyes bled black with want, "it won't take that long to make a difference."

Butcher stayed true to his word and finished as fast as a horny teenager, shopped, and soon had the vehicle devouring the miles under the heavy tires.

As Butcher continued taking Olivia further away from Vought, hours away Stormfront landed with Craig on a Southwestern decorated balcony and gave him a dazzling smile.

Craig hugged his arms around himself as Stormfront pulled the sliding glass door free.

He followed her through some beige linen curtains and looked around at the Tuscan sand painted walls.

"What do you think Craig? When I deliver your doctor Olivia to you, do you want to live here or at your house?" Stormfront called from the cozy kitchen.

"This is…. this is Olivia's place?"

Stromfront nodded, "mmmmm hmmmmmm, and it will belong to you too when she marries you and you finally get to fuck her," she added.

Craig looked around, confused, and scared but also still very interested in what was in Olivia's panty drawer.

"How do you think she'd even think about marrying me?" Craig scoffed. Any further words died in his throat as Stormfront was suddenly in front of him.

"That little bitch will marry you and whatever else I dictate, or she'll be charged and executed as a domestic terrorist."

Craig swallowed hard, "so what do you want from me? Why am I here?"

Stormfront pointed at Olivia's computer. "Access her files and Vought information and download what I need onto this," she said and plugged a rectangular flash drive into the side of the keyboard.

"Very good doctor," Stormfront murmured after the last of the documents were transferred. "Let's go look at her bedroom," she purred as she pulled Craig into the large bedroom with its vaulted ceilings.

Stormfront pushed Craig to the surface of the made bed, the plush pillowtop absorbing any impact.

Craig would never be able to make another coherent sound as Stormfront shot out her right fist and crushed his jaw.

She pulled open the crotch of her outfit and yanked his pants free as she practically broke a sweat making his cock hard enough for any kind of ride. The three-thousand thread bedlinen absorbed Craig's warm flow of arterial blood as Stormfront milked his almost hard cock. She cursed in her foreign tongue as she longed to feel like she was splitting in two.

Stormfront crawled off Craig and dialed Homelander as Craig choked on a throatful of blood.

While Stormfront's call connected to Homelander in the Vought building, it rang as he tossed the last of The Female's individual limbs through an incinerator until he could scoop the remains into small jars that might've been called canopic jars if he were telling the story with hieroglyphics.

Homelander listened and swore his cock sprang to life and thumped against his suit's shield as he left cleanup to whatever nearby scientist.

Homelander was soon in Olivia's bedroom, the heady scent of blood in the air a further aphrodisiac as he found a dying Craig and naked Stormfront.

"I missed you baby," she purred as she sat down on the side of the bed and spread her naked thighs as wide as she could manage.

Homelander began to tug out of his suit as he stalked towards her.

"No one fills me like you, fuck me until it feels that true death is near," she demanded on a moan as he deeply impaled her on his rigid cock. "Until death," she shouted and drug her nails in deep lines across his muscular back.

Homelander couldn't speak as she squeezed her thighs around him and met each of his thrusts so that their intimate flesh loudly and wetly kissed.

After they each rode out their mutual orgasms, Stormfront called in one of her nerd herd fuck boys to take pictures and procure evidence from Olivia's computer that she was a murderer and domestic terrorist.

Stormfront had her favorite techie Stevie make sure every news outlet had the information created that painted Olivia as a disloyal patriot, terrorist, and murderer of beloved Vought scientist Craig Dalton.

The news, crime photos and coroner's report all stated that Craig Dalton ceased to live while lying in Olivia's bed.

As Butcher flicked the signal on the large vehicle and moved over to the fast lane, Olivia adjusted the radio until she could find a local radio station.

The nasally voiced journalist began outlining the top stories. Olivia froze when she was the topic of the third highest trending news story.

Butcher kept still and quiet as he listened along with her as she was described as a domestic terrorist with a controversial hidden manifesto and plans to bomb Vought. The journalist went on to describe that Olivia was also wanted for the murder of esteemed Vought scientist Craig Dalton whose body was found in her home.

Butcher muted the station when the anchor began discussing him and his list of embellished crimes. He glanced over at Olivia who was staring down at her lap, her hands loosely clasped together.

"Are you okay?" he finally murmured.

Olivia wordlessly nodded and pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle a sudden series of yawns. She rubbed her eyes before glancing over at him. "I think I'm going to lay down back there for a while," she said as she slipped out of her seatbelt.

Butcher nodded as she shuffled to the rear of the vehicle, grateful since she wouldn't register on any possible facial recognition scans or civilian sightings.

"Oi love," he said as he kept his eyes on the road but drew her attention.

"Hmmm? She murmured as she looked back at him.

Butcher wordlessly held a hand towards her and waited patiently for her to slip her hand in his.

"What?" she murmured, her curiosity keeping her from falling asleep on her feet.

Butcher pulled her hand towards him and pressed her lips to the cool platinum band around her left ring finger.

Butcher let her eventually tug her hand free and settle on the rear bench seat, pulling his thick worn jacket around herself.

Butcher watched her settle from the rearview mirror, he hated that the visible bruises and discomfort was at his hands.

He clenched his hands around the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white and pressed the accelerator the floor.

Butcher felt himself fracturing inside, he could picture his core with a visible crack, it was widening to become a fissure and eventually a bottomless abyss.

He passed a slow-moving sedan with a Christmas tree tied to the top before he met his own eyes in the rearview mirror and chuckled.

His old man had given him a pack of gum and carton of Parliaments to go fuck off with in the corner for Christmas.

Butcher glanced up as Olivia moaned in her sleep and shifted on the seat.

"That's the kind of man you are," he growled. "You hurt everything and everyone, you're just like your father and will eventually kill every living thing you come in contact with."

Butcher had to force himself to stop watching Olivia's sleeping form in the mirror and fumbled with the first of a few disposable phone's he'd picked up at the strip mall.

As the hours passed, Olivia was able to get some needed, healing sleep and Butcher reached out to some acquaintances he'd made in seedy opium dens and black markets where one could purchase children, women or elephant tusks and powdered rhino horn.

The call's connection was terrible, but Butcher was able to call in a marker and get the address for a safe house that was in good fiscal and financial status to even the deepest of a county audit. The caller recommended a better person to get identities from, the last had served some time and was now on several governmental agency watchlists.

As Butcher moved steadily through a laundry list of calls, his agitation continued to rise. He clenched his teeth until his jaw popped as he felt so unsure of how to navigate this neutered version of himself.

The safe house was still too many miles to cover in one day and he started following the signs for an upcoming KOA campground.

He glanced up as Olivia coughed and rolled over onto her back, his jacket slipping away from her upper body.

Olivia's shirt had shifted in the impromptu bed and his eyes zeroed in on the smooth skin around her belly button.

Butcher tore his gaze off of her as she started to mumble and sit up.

"Where are we?" she croaked as she stretched her arms high overhead.

Butcher looked up and met her sleepy eyes, "there's a campground a few miles from here. It's the off-season and shouldn't be as busy."

Olivia looked out the side window and rubbed the sleepy grit from the corners of her eyes as Butcher slowed the truck through the campground's entrance and paid the site reservation fees with cash into a self-serve kiosk, the state saved money by not having to have someone posted at the gate in the off-season.

The sprawling campgrounds were unusually vacant for the time of year and Butcher was able to secure a secluded spot.

He engaged the emergency brake and cut the engine.

Olivia watched him slip from behind the wheel and walk to her side of the vehicle. Her fatigue impaired her depth perception. She nearly stumbled stepping into the open space and he quickly scooped her upright in his strong arms.

He wrapped his arms tight around her and pulled her close as he smoothed his hands down to the curve of her lower back and began to knead his fingers up her spinal column. He lightly massaged the rounded knob of each vertebrate.

"That feels nice," she thought and almost said it out loud. Butcher felt a shiver run through her. "It's going to get cold tonight," he whispered against the crown of her head. "Rest. I'm going to set up camp," he added and had to force himself to release and step away her.

Olivia let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding when he stepped away from her. She watched him begin to unpack the truck.

She yawned deeply and stretched her arms overhead as she watched Butcher begin to assemble the tent. Olivia pulled a vinyl bag from the truck bed and walked towards him.

"How long are we staying here?"

Butcher half-turned to see her standing next to him, holding the vinyl bag that contained a plush, insulated sleeping bag.

"A few days at minimum."

"Is there another sleeping bag besides this one?"

He smoothed his hands over the olive-green canvas tent. "No."

Olivia dropped the rolled fabric and cross her arms when Butcher rose to his full height. He could feel the toxic tug-o-war inside him at wanting to be kind, to be gentle. He clenched his hands into fists, he steeled his resolve to not allow himself to be hamstrung by anyone and to not see her for an object to fuck and put away when he's done with her.

"It's cozy enough for two," he said slowly, making it seem like an extra-long word. Infusing each of the letters with heat as he raked his gaze up and down her body. "We can prove my point now if you'd like love."

Olivia shook her head wordlessly and stalked back to the parked truck, "why the fuck is this happening to me? What happened all of a sudden?" she wondered as she turned back to watch Butcher finish driving the tent spikes into the dusty ground.

Olivia rooted through one of the many plastic grocery bags and pulled out a trendy bottle of vitamin water and blueberry pecan granola bar.

While Butcher finished assembling the tent, stretching the canvas taut and checking for any holes or snags, Olivia proceeded to walk around their campsite, clearing and retrieving twigs and knotty wood sticks for a fire.

Butcher was pleased to see that she wasn't simmering by the truck anymore. He watched her pile the wood and dry grass before striking the head of a creamlike-orange-colored match and holding it to the haphazardly stacked flammables.

Olivia rubbed her hands over the emerging warmth from the birth of the flames and looked over to find his eyes on her. She felt the weight of his gaze and had a sudden rush of remembrance at being trapped under his body, looking into his eyes from inches away as he buried his rigid member inside her, stretching and filling her body.

She quickly looked down at the epicenter of the healthily burning fire, feeling the dull ache in the center of her intimacy.

Butcher could hear the crackling of the small twigs as they were consumed by flames and felt the heat reach his body. He watched her sit on a fallen log that doubled as a bench.

He circled the tent one last time before unzipping and tossing the sleeping bag inside it. He settled on the log bench across from her, "thank you for getting the fire going."

"It was partially self-serving."

Butcher smirked, "thank you, regardless of the reason."

Olivia frowned as she subconsciously massaged her shoulder, she was nowhere near successful in easing the knot that was under her skin. Butcher watched her continue to knead at her shoulder and wince as she pressed her fingertips into her skin. He walked over to where she sat on the smooth log bench.

"May I help?" he asked lowly.

Olivia stopped probing her shoulder and looked into the flames as she answered him. "Okay," she said quietly and held her breath as he slipped onto the bench behind her. She shifted a little when he settled behind her, his powerful thighs pressing on either side of her.

An appreciative sound escaped Olivia's lips as he moved his strong hands on her neck and shoulders until he begin to feel the slightest bit of tension dissolve.

Her muscular pleasure soon bled away to be replaced by a mixture of fear and the unknowable future when his touch became more insistent as he dropped his hands to her waist, pulling her lower body closer to him. Olivia stiffened in his arms as she felt him grow hard against her, his cock grew painfully rigid against her bottom.

"Go unroll the sleeping bag," he growled raggedly.

Butcher dropped his head and buried his face against the back of her neck when she remained silent and statue-still in his arms.

Olivia shook her head and tried to squirm out of his impossibly suffocating embrace. "Not until you tell me what happened."

"What do you mean?" he murmured and slid one hand up to cradle, palm and massage her breast while he moved the other hand to the apex of her thighs.

"Your eyes are full of darkness again, your hands are hurting me," she gasped as he squeezed her breasts until tears of pain pricked her eyes.

Butcher remained wordless, his exhales were furiously rushed and hot against the silken fall of her hair.

"Talk to me," Olivia gasped as Butcher slid a hand down the front of her pants and moved his palm in slow circles over her femininity.

"I won't apologize for getting you wrapped up in this because the moment I set my eyes on you, I knew you were the one," he grunted as he yanked her panties away from the heat of her shaved, wet center until he could tease his fingers along the intimate folds and gently tease her tight opening.

"The one what?" Olivia managed as he began drawing urgent circles around her clit until she was gasping under his touch.

Butcher ignored her question and released her sore tit to free his throbbing rigidity as he simultaneously pushed her to the dusty ground.

Olivia shook her head as she tried to keep her draw string pants in place as he stroked his cock until it was painfully hard and all he wanted to do was fill her and make her scream his name.

Butcher shifted his hold on her and roughly turned her over until she was staring up at him, the veins and arteries in his neck sticking out in ropy glory and his bled to near black with power and lust.

Olivia shouted as his hands moved too fast and were too strong to stop as they tore at her clothes until he could gaze down at her naked center.

His cock bobbed with enthusiasm as it ached to plunge inside her.

Butcher groaned as Olivia pushed at the hand that was smoothing up her inner thigh.

"What is it?" he growled as pushed her thighs further apart and salivated with the more he exposed of her pink, wet center.

Olivia mumbled lowly, almost too low for Butcher to catch.

"Don't be afraid," he murmured and lowered his face to the curve of her neck.

Olivia couldn't find any words; she could only hear her pulse pounding in her ears and she couldn't help but chuckle dryly.

"Are you afraid to answer me?" Butcher murmured as he shifted between her thighs.

Olivia was only capable of nodding and trying not to focus on his rigid cock that remained firmly pressed against her bottom.

"How can I alleviate your fear?"

Olivia's mind furiously tried to formulate a coherent reply as she felt overwhelmed by the immense strength he possessed. "Not like this," she finally pleaded as a pine needle tickled her nose. "Not on the ground."

"Then go and unroll the sleeping bag," he managed on a heavy moan as he stood up and helped her to her feet.

Olivia slipped through the canvas flaps. She tried to keep her hands from shaking as she pulled the sleeping bag from its zippered bag and began to smooth the matte black fabric. The bedding was heavy and designed to offer protection from subzero temperatures.

Olivia glanced up when Butcher joined her in the tent and quickly looked away from him, not wanting to get caught in the stranglehold of his glance.

Butcher stood and watched her as her hands gave the barest of trembles as she plucked invisible lint off the nylon fabric.

Olivia's breath slowed to the barest of inhalations as he started to remove each article of clothing he was wearing.

"I don't want you to think about the past anymore," he murmured lowly as he stripped out of his form-fitting thermal shirt.

"What does that mean exactly?" Olivia finally managed to ask when she lifted her eyes and all she saw for a few salivating heartbeats was his naked, muscular torso.

"It means that I want us to start over, put our violent introduction in the past and begin our life together right now."

Olivia didn't blink as she stared up at Butcher, trapped in his gaze as he continued on a musical whisper as he fully unzipped his pants and stepped out of them.

"I know that I can't take your affection by force."

Olivia cleared her throat as Butcher added in a ragged groan. "I can't force you to have genuine feelings for me as I do for you, but I promise that you'll be safe, and I'll do anything I can to earn your trust, to mean something to you."

Butcher suppressed a groan when he held open the sleeping bag, his desire was so strong that his gut ached, and he spoke carefully, trying to not think of filling and possessing her body. "I want us to completely start over from here."

Butcher patted the thermal lining of the sleeping bag. "Come here."

Olivia reached for his extended hand and let him pull her into his arms. "I want you naked," he whispered raggedly and tugged at her long-sleeved shirt. She allowed him to pull and tug at her clothing and expose more skin to his greedy gaze, until she was just as bare as he was.

Olivia felt a preemptive ache inside when she dropped her eyes and found his cock rigid with enthusiasm. She hesitatingly settled next to him before he aggressively yanked their naked bodies closer together and pushed her onto her back and slid his hands under her bottom, shifting her closer to him.

Olivia felt the sheer strength reverberating in his electric touch on her body, she had recognized a certain futility when she had first laid eyes upon him.

Butcher held her gaze as he gently nudged her thighs apart and felt his resolve dissipate completely as he grasped his hardened length and positioned himself at her opening.

"I don't regret this," he growled lowly and pushed his rigid length inside her. Olivia inhaled sharply as he fully sheathed himself, her thighs beginning to quiver around him. He slowly moved his hardness until he had built a steady rhythm of plunging in and out of her body, her intimate folds growing wet and slick under his rigorous movement.

"I always longed for someone like you, but knew it would never happen," he wheezed and thrust into her as deeply as he could until their intimate flesh kissed.

"What kind of person am I?" she gasped under his enthusiastic pounding pace.

Olivia struggled to get control of her breathing as he lifted a hand from its death grip on the soft flesh of her hip to trail his fingertips down her neck and across her shoulders before speaking.

"You're beautiful," he started and slid his hand down her smooth forearm to close around her slim wrist. "Irreplaceable," he whispered and pressed his lips to her palm.

"Don't do that," she muttered and tried to yank her hand away from him.

"Do what?"

"Talk to me like that."

"How am I talking to you?"

"Like you haven't hurt me."

Butcher's eyes bored into hers, "I regret hurting you."

Olivia narrowed her eyes; she didn't see or hear a lie.

"Are you going to eventually kill me?"

"No, no," he said quickly and urgently squeezed her hand. "No, I don't ever want you out of my sight for the rest of my life," he whispered and returned his lips to her palm.

Olivia swallowed hard, "what did you say?" She knew what he had said and was hoping to buy time to formulate a reply. He didn't give her much time to think as he rapidly answered. "Will you give me all of yourself?"

"I'm not some object for you to collect," she gasped and tried to ignore the growing tsunami wave of ecstasy that threatened to drown her.

"I know you're not," he panted as his physical pain began to encroach upon his nervous system.

Butcher kept his rhythm slow and even, luxuriating in the feeling of sinking into her hot, tight center as he seemed to see inside her core. Olivia felt her body actively betray her as his touch elicited lightning strikes of pleasure throughout her body. He felt a jolt through his body when he coaxed a pleasurable sounding moan from her as he licked a line up her neck and pressed his lips firmly over the large pulse in her neck.

"Will you?" he said on a staccato grunt as he began to feel his control begin to wane and his need for release rising. Butcher felt a battle in the front of his brain about being an unfeeling hulk or allowing himself to feel.

Olivia reached up and hesitatingly placed her fingertips on his strong jawline. She traced along his cheekbones and down the slope of his nose as he steadily pushed his engorged length in and out of her.

"Yes," she said raggedly as Butcher groaned and shuddered as his orgasm overwhelmed his senses and for a few seconds all he felt was her intimate walls squeezing his cock as he spilled his hot come inside her.

She pressed her hands against his chest and could feel his heart beating strongly under the layers of dense musculature as his breathing returned to normal.

Olivia couldn't stop herself from glancing down at his rigidity that glistened from being inside her as she allowed him to pull her into his powerful embrace.

"Where do we go from here?" she murmured as she rested the side of her face against his chest.

Butcher squeezed her tighter in his arms. "We'll stay here tomorrow, maybe the day after and then head east."

"East to where?"

Butcher put his hand over hers, trapping her fingertips against his chest. She could feel his warm exhale against the crown of her head before he continued in a low whisper.

"Home."