Author's note: Hi, everyone. This is a little Halloween one shot I brewed up featuring the murderous hand fetishist. I have to confess I have recently developed my own obsession with all things JoJo lately. It will be a bit graphic but I tried to handle the subject matter in as tasteful a manner as possible to keep it from being deleted while hopefully being entertaining.

Yoshikage Kira sat on the train reading his newspaper on his way home. As usual, he felt a sense of satisfaction having completed another boring and predictable day at the office. He was considering having a drink tonight in celebration of experiencing the pinnacle of humdrum perfection as his daily life goes.

There was a bump against his leg as the woman standing in front of him shifted position. Annoyed, he flipped down the top of his newspaper to scowl at her. She was already bowing in front of him in apology.

"I am so very sorry, sir. Please forgive me," she begged breathlessly.

But Yoshikage did not hear a word she said. His eyes were fixed on her hand that gripped the silver pole. Her hand was small, delicate, and white. The skin looked so soft and supple. Her fingers were perfectly proportioned, not too long or thin or short and fat. The nails were clean, free of colored nail polish. The nails were also unusually short for a woman, cut straight across and even with the tips of her lovely fingers.

As he continued to stare, a sense of familiarity came over him. He had seen those hands before. Her fingers clenched, gripping the metal pole tighter as she stood up straight. His eyes lowered to her other hand hanging loosely at her side. Her fingertips curled slightly toward her palm. His fingers gripped the newspaper tightly. There was a ripping sound as his lengthening fingernails tore through it.

The train began to slow in preparation for the next stop which made her lurch forward in turn causing her to swing toward him again bringing that gorgeous hand so close it brushed the top of his newspaper. Heat formed in his groin as blood rushed to the area. When her hand pressed to her thigh covered by the black fabric of her dress, he focused on it with wonderment.

The throb between his legs became agonizing when he realized why there was a sense of familiarity from her hands. This woman possessed Mona Lisa hands; the epitome of perfection in his eyes. Those hands had given him first erection, making him aware of his specific and significant inclination.

Yoshikage wanted to grab her hand and press it against his cheek. He needed to feel its softness rather than assume its silky smoothness. He yearned to kiss it, to suck on those luscious fingers. The pulsating hard on became almost unbearable.

But he refrained from touching her. Not here. Not now. No one could know what he is. He could not destroy his quiet life by allowing his desire to overwhelm him.

Carefully folding the newspaper, he decided there would be a change of plans for his evening. As the train crawled to a stop, he prepared to stand and follow the woman should this be where she exited.

When the doors opened and she moved toward them, he casually tucked the newspaper under his arm. He allowed several people to pass through the doors before him as he stood in preparation to exit.

His eyes focused on the back of her head. Her hair was a shiny and sleek brown, but nothing really distinct or noteworthy. Like a lioness stalking her prey, he moved forward confidently, unhurried, weaving through the people like the stalks of tall grass on the Savannah.

Yoshikage had never been turned on by breasts or butts. Hands were his thing. He had seen many gorgeous hands, and even taken a few of those for himself through a forceful separation from the owner. Yet none of those compared to the beauty of her hands. Hers are the first ones to come close to being as perfect as those of his first love. He coveted this woman's hands more than he had any others.

Following her down the street, his sense of excitement increased with each step. When she finally turned toward the steps leading to the entrance of an apartment building, his insides quivered with anticipation.

Seeing her type a security code into the panel by the door, Yoshikage increased the speed of his steps, barely restraining himself from breaking into a full on run to catch the door before it closed behind her to lock him out. Nothing would keep him from those ideal hands.

When he entered the apartment building, she was already at the end of the hall and preparing to go up the stairs. Growing bold, he decreased the distance between them catching up to be mere steps behind her on the stairs. He could not lose her now when he was so close.

The woman had a third floor front corner apartment. Yoshikage was only feet away from her at the door when she inserted her key. A silent and well practiced hunter, he sidled up behind her without her ever noticing as she opened the door to go inside.

When the door began to close, he was there. Thrusting out his hand, he prevented her from shutting the door in his face. In that moment, her eyes, big and round, full of shock and fear, met his. They were blue. Not what he expected. The tears forming over them made them glisten just like the water of the deepest ocean intensifying their blue.

Before the shock dissipated and she screamed, Yoshikage pushed his way inside. Carefully pushing the door closed rather than slamming it and risking drawing unwanted attention, he engaged the security chain, the deadbolt, and the lock on the knob. How pointless. All these security measure, and he still got in.

Quickly pivoting on his heel to face her, he rushed forward when her lips parted. His big palm covered her mouth to contain her scream. His other arm hooked around her waist, lifting her off her feet and jerking her forward to crush her body against his so she could not kick him.

Her hands went to his, pulling at his fingers. Her short fingernails scraped at the back of his hand but did not scratch him. His cock twitched and throbbed with painful intensity.

She writhed against him in her attempts to kick him or give a well placed knee between his legs. The friction offered welcome relief from the misery of the erection plaguing him.

"Promise not to scream, and I will remove my hand," Yoshikage told her, looking right into her teary eyes.

His voice seemed to have a calming, almost hypnotic effect on her. Her body ceased all movement actually becoming limp as she leaned heavily into him. Not once did her eyes waver from his. The fear was gone, replaced by something akin to fascination. How odd.

"Do you promise not to scream?" he asked her pointedly.

When she nodded, a single tear spilled over the burgeoning dam in her right eye. Yoshikage raised his hand, simultaneously setting her on her feet and withdrawing his arm from around her waist.

"Now, I suppose we should act like civil adults and introduce ourselves," he said, keeping his eyes on her as she stood straight and tall in front of him.

"Why do you want to know my name?" she inquired, her voice tremulous.

"It's only polite, don't you think?"

"Seriously? You're planning on killing me, right? So what does it matter?" she snapped in returned, a defiance hardening her eyes.

"Indulge me."

He smiled at her. She visibly flinched.

"Mona."

"Mona?" he gasped, both pleased and dubious at the same time. "Is that really your name?"

It was too much of a coincidence she would bear the hands and the same name of the woman in the painting that had first turned him on, bringing his unusual proclivities into clear focus.

"And you are?" she prompted him, unfazed by his doubt.

"In return for your exquisite show of manners, I will give you my name. I am Yoshikage Kira."

His eyes skimmed over her from head to toe. She was wearing a plain black dress cinched at the waist with a silver chain belt. The belt was a great fashion choice otherwise the dress would have looked like an ugly sack. The sleeves covered her arms down to her wrist as if to purposely bring his attention to those gorgeous hands.

His eyes latched onto her hand as she reached up to push a lock of her long and unbound hair behind her ear. His eyes followed her fingertips along the curve of her ear. Those flawless fingers drifted down her neck across her pulsing carotid artery. She was teasing him with those hands.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, but his mouth was desert dry.

"May I have a glass of water?" he asked.

Her eyebrows drew together at first in confusion from his request. Anger flashed through their azure depths momentarily before she turned and went to the cabinets in the kitchen.

"Aren't you afraid I might break this glass and try to attack you?" she questioned him as she filled it.

"No. Not in the least," he replied, watching her every move but her back was to him, and he could not see her hands.

Mona opened the drawer to her left. His eyes studied the gleaming array of sharpened kitchen knives neatly laid out in a single row in the drawer.

"I could grab one of these and slit your throat," she threatened him.

Yoshikage chuckled. He liked this woman's woman's sense of humor in the face of her impending death.

"You won't. You're not a killer like me," he said, smiling down at her derisively.

Mona closed the drawer and walked toward him with the glass extended toward him.

As he took the glass from her, his fingers brushed hers sending a delicious thrill up his spine that made him shiver with excitement. He guzzled down the entire glass of water to cool and hydrate his parched throat.

"Thank you so much, Mona. That was refreshing. Now, where were we?"

The glass fell from his fingers, shattering when it hit the floor. The water splashed over his right shoe and dampened his pants leg. The sight of her in front of him blurred. Stumbling back from her, he glared at the woman with a menacing smile lifting the corners of her mouth.

"I'm not a killer, but you never know what secrets a person hides," she said, her emotionless eyes like blue marbles in her head glaring at him.

"What did you do to me?" he demanded, reaching for her. Her face blurred in his vision, and his knees buckled.

"It's just a little something to help you sleep. You won't be getting home by eight tonight, Yoshikage Kira."

"What? How did you - "

Everything went dark as he lost consciousness.

~\'/~

Yoshikage awakened with a splitting headache. He forced his eyes open to find himself staring at a gauzy white canopy over him. The room was filled with a dim pink light which did not make the pain in his head any worse at least. There was a soft comfortable mattress at his back.

Then he realized he was naked, splayed out like a starfish, and tied to the fancy bed.

Trying to move but barely able to budge, his eyes flickered to his wrists. He was bound to the tall spindly posters of the headboard. Raising his head, he saw that his ankles were also wrapped with the white gossamer material of the curtains which usually hung down around the bed and anchored to the footboard.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he grunted.

Yoshikage pulled expecting the flimsy material to rip so he could free himself. However, no matter how much he wiggled and pulled, he could not tear the damn things.

"Good to see you're awake," Mona declared as she entered the room.

Yoshikage glowered at her as she approached the bed. She had changed her clothes. She now wore a loose pink silk camisole and white lace boy short panties. Her hair had been twisted into a loose chignon at the nape of her neck.

His fingernails itched as she took a seat on the bed beside him. He wanted to kill her more than ever. Those beautiful hands would be an even more exceptional prize. To make her suffer accordingly for inflicting this humiliation upon him, he would reserve finishing her off with his bare hands until after he cut off her hands.

Her thigh brushed his ribs tickling him and disgusting him all at once. She held a glass of water in her hands and placed the straw at his lips.

He turned his head away, refusing her offering. His eyes went to the knot pressing into his left wrist. He had actually tightened his bindings. Look what happened the last time he accepted a glass of water from her.

"Come on. It's just water this time," Mona assured him, pressing the straw to his lips. "You need this to get rid of that headache."

Reluctantly, Yoshikage placed the straw between his sandpaper lips and sucked. Cold water. He resisted the urge to sigh with relief.

Rage boiled in his gut directed at himself as much as her. He had let down his guard, got distracted while she was talking to him. She had probably slipped something in his drink when she opened that drawer to show him the knives.

But how? No woman had ever been able to surprise him or slip through his grasp. She seemed to know a discomforting amount of personal information about him. How did she know these things? It was as if she had been waiting for him to attack her, to give her this opportunity.

"You're not the only one who watches people Yoshikage Kira," she told him, placing the empty glass on the table beside the bed. Her eyes met his. "I've been watching you for a long time."

"Oh?" He would have to admit he was a bit shocked. He could not believe this woman had hidden her presence from him until she was ready to be noticed.

"I know what you like," she said, holding her hands up where he could see them.

Heat and blood rushed to his lower belly and thighs. He could feel his cock filling and hardening.

"Ah," she sighed, her eyes on his erection. "I knew you wouldn't disappoint me."

Mona stroked his cheek with her fingertips eliciting a moan from his slightly parted lips. Laying her palm along his jawline, she smiled as he pressed his cheek into her hand while closing his eyes to relish the sensation.

"I spent many hours making my hands perfect for you," she said, her eyes meeting his when they blinked open.

"For me?" he inquired, astonished that someone had been obsessed with him to go through such lengths.

"For you," she confirmed, sliding her hands down his chest.

He still planned to kill her and take her hands as souvenirs though. They were becoming more meaningful to him.

Yoshikage shifted on the bed as those glorious hands glided over his skin. He bit his lower lip to withhold another moan. His thighs burned and the pressure was almost unbearable. He wanted to feel that sweet release.

Mona leaned over him, placing one hand along his jaw and the other against his chest over his heart. He could feel his heart thumping against her palm as she traced his lower lip with her thumb. Closing his eyes to break free from her intense gaze, he concentrated on her silky smooth fingertip skimming his upper lip then his lower again.

The pad of her thumb pressed against the center of his bottom lip urging him to lower it. When he did, she carefully slipped her thumb inside his mouth pressing it against his tongue. His cock ached so badly.

Yoshikage sucked lightly as her other hand roamed down his chest. A groan rolled around in his chest when her fingers lightly explored his ribs with ticklish pressure. His hips raised on their own, humping the air as her hand moved over his hip bone.

He sucked harder on the thumb stuck in his mouth as her fingers skimmed across the outer part of his hip and down to his thigh. Her fingertips gingerly stroked the inside of his thigh, making him gasp and open his mouth which caused him to let go of her thumb.

"No, please," he begged his eyes flying open when she completely withdrew her hands from him.

She sat up as if she meant to leave which made his heart sink and his cock shrivel with disappointment. But then she held her hands in front of his face to allow him to gaze upon them.

"I have spent so many hours taking care of my hands. I cleaned them with lavender soap. I scrubbed them with sugar and olive oil to exfoliate." She smiled down at him. She poked her forefinger into his mouth which he happily suckled despite the forcefulness of the entry. "To make them sweet for you."

Her other hand caressed his chest, her fingers pinching his already hardened and sensitive nipples. He whimpered and moaned but did not let go of her finger. Once again, she abruptly removed her hands from him leaving him bereft. His balls ached so painfully he actually felt nauseated.

"I rubbed lotion on them every morning and night, wearing gloves, to make them so soft," Mona said, making a motion as if she putting on lotion. She splayed out her beautiful fingers to display her natural nails for him. "I have gotten a wax treatment and manicure every Thursday evening for the last six months. I requested only clear polish wanting to keep them clean and unsullied for you."

"They're absolutely beautiful," Yoshikage said, admiring her dedication and her hands.

His eyes focused on her neck, fixating on that pulsing artery. Her heartbeat was rhythmic, even. He wanted to feel her heartbeat against his palm, feel it slowing and weakening as he tightened his hands around her neck. Pushing his thumbs into her throat, he would savor the sensation of her hyoid bone snapping making her death inevitable.

Mona grabbed his face, her fingers clenching with discomfort inducing strength around his chin when she forced him to look her in the eye.

"I know you want to kill me. And you will," she said, having resigned herself to the plan he made for her. "But first, you're all mine."

Yoshikage did not take her eyes off of her as she leaned to the side, opening the drawer of the table. He watched as she removed a tube and flipped it open, squirting the clear lube into her palm.

"Are you ready?" Mona asked him, her hand moving toward his erection pointed at the ceiling.

Yoshikage nodded mutely.

"Open your mouth," she ordered him.

He willingly did so and was rewarded with three fingers being inserted into his mouth as the fingers of her lubed hand enclosed his hard dick. He barely kept himself from biting her as she squeezed his cock at the base and pulled upward bringing him dizzying pleasure.

Yoshikage Kira closed his eyes as she leaned down toward him to place her lips by his ear. Her breath was warm and raised goosebumps along his neck. Her fingers moved in and out of his mouth sending a zap of enticing arousal down his spine. He thrust his cock through her hand, driving her palm downward to smack into his balls. But it felt so damn good.

"Is it everything you dreamed it would be?" she whispered. "These ideal hands touching you." She tightened her fingers around him and pulled upward dragging a moan from him which was muted into a whimper by her fingers. "How often did you think about these fingers stroking you...giving you pleasure?"

It was everything he dreamed about and more. She was the first woman to ever touch him so intimately with her hands while she was still alive. But of course, his interaction with her was completely different from the others.

Yoshikage grunted, shoving his hips at her hand. His teeth scraped along her fingers. It was becoming more difficult not biting her as she brought him closer and closer to the edge.

"Are you almost there, Yoshikage?"

He opened his eyes and nodded.

Mona withdrew her fingers from his mouth, resting her fingertips on his bottom lip. She giggled as nibbled on the tips. Her hand on his cock moved faster. Reaching under the pillow supporting his head, she produced a towel which she placed across his hips and thighs.

The ever so slight roughness of the terrycloth brushing across the swollen head followed by her soft hand pushed him over. He yelped like a helpless animal, briefly letting go of the remarkable self-control he exercised at all times.

His arms pulled at the binds as he fought to get loose, his hips bucking and pushing at her hand as she continued to stroke him. A tearing sound filled his ears as the material keeping him restrained gave way at last, ripping to shreds, unable to withstand his superior strength.

While still in the throes of his orgasm, Yoshikage Kira seized her by the neck. He changed his mind about how he would kill her. Strangling her, feeling the life leaving her while experiencing this bliss, would be positively sublime.

Her eyes widened in fear, but she did not fight him. As his thumbs pressed against her throat, she swallowed and he could feel that little horseshoe shaped bone shifting under the pads. When his fingers tightened, shutting off her airway, the corners of her mouth lifted into a little smile.

Yoshikage observed the capillaries in her eyes breaking, streaking the snow white sclera with bloody red lines while she struggled to breathe. There were no tears, no fear in her eyes now as he finished her off. As her vibrant cerulean eyes started to grow dim, he did something he had never had the desire to do before. He pressed his lips to hers for a brief good-bye kiss as well as to express his gratitude.

"Thank you, my sweet Mona, for giving me the most intense pleasure of my entire life with your beautiful Mona Lisa hands. I will cherish them."