AN: Nice feedback on the last chapter, thank you very much. It's very gratifying when people put thought into your story and leave nice long reviews. Thanks for all the suggestions too. It seems most people want to see the Denali's more than anyone else, Tanya in particular, and to be honest I was leaning that way too. There's a couple others I want to include as well, but it's nice to see almost everyone agrees on the Denali's. This chapter is still only Bella and Victoria, something of a transitional chapter, but things will be spicing up sooner than you think. ;)
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Chapter 7:
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By the time we drove into Seattle it was gray daylight. The pain in the girl's leg had gotten worse and she rode in the passenger seat with a fine beading of sweat on her forehead. I kept asking her if she was alright but she ignored me most of the time. She kept looking out the window attentively, as if hoping for a hospital on every corner, but what we found was a pharmacy. I left her in the car while I went inside and bought her some aspirins and a pair of aluminium crutches. I was wearing nothing but a red sundress and no shoes and there were still soot stains on my arms and neck. I would've looked rather dirty and tramp-ish but there was no help for it at the moment.
Once I got back to the car I handed her the bottle of pills and told her to take two. She twisted off the cap and dumped about seven into her palm. I asked if she needed something to drink but she just tossed them into her mouth one at a time like M&Ms and grimaced and swallowed them dry.
I started the car again and kept driving, no actual destination in mind. Things had become very complicated. Not only had my hostage become unwilling and uncooperative all over again but there was now going to be a very large investigation. No decent hotel room would allow us to pay without a creditcard and I'm sure we were both sick of motels. In addition to all this it was approaching lunchtime and the girl hadn't eaten—or slept—since yesterday. She was getting rundown and that leg did need to be treated with more than a couple aspirins. The longer it remained outside a cast the worse it would get. What a rotten bit of luck, breaking her leg like that. It was going to be awful on our sex life but oh well. At least it wasn't broken tits. They would've been far worse to cover up in a cast.
The girl was still watching out the windows desperately for any sign of a hospital and she almost groaned in disappointment when I pulled up in the parking lot outside a diner instead. I told her to get out of them car and she did, wincing and staggering to her feet on her crutches before swinging the door closed behind her. I went around to the trunk and took a pair of shoes out of my travel bag—heels, naturally—and slipped them on there in the parking lot before fetching out the girl's toiletries case. Cars were passing in the street and people were going in and out of the diner. It wasn't the highest quality restaurant in the city but it would have to do. We needed to get cleaned up and the girl needed to eat.
The girl and I went inside, the bell over the door tingling, and several waitresses and men at the counter looked over at the girl's crutches, my dress, the smoke smudges in my hair and on her face. I took the girl into the bathroom at the back and let her use the facilities, taking her into one of the stalls and lowering her underwear for her and helping her sit before going back out to brushed my hair at the mirrors with a hairbrush from the girl's bathroom bag. When she was done I went back into the stall and helped her stand and took her to the sink for her to wash her hands while I brushed her hair as well and told her to brush her teeth. After that I wet some papertowel to wipe down her face and neck. She stood there grudgingly on her crutches but she didn't object. She just stared sideways into the mirror until I was done and then I wet some more papertowel and washed myself as well, face, arms, even my legs. The girl was wearing only that Hello Kitty miniskirt and a black tanktop, her jacket left behind either in Forks or Port Angeles somewhere, and I noticed her own legs were looking a little grubby too. I wet another clump of papertowel and gave them a wipe down for her. She shivered at the cold rag of paper on her good leg and whimpered and gritted her teeth as I did the broken one even though I was very gentle. I smiled up at her from where I knelt at her feet and I was tempted to lift her skirt and make a suggestion with my lips on her panties but then the door behind us opened and a woman came in, sparing us an odd look as she moved to a stall.
It wasn't quite a shower but at least we were presentable when we emerged back into the diner. She hobbled toward the door, still seemingly fixated on getting to a hospital, but I instructed her onward to the booth at the back. She was crestfallen but she said nothing until I took the crutches from her and helped her into the booth, the pain finally becoming too much to brave.
"I need to go to a hospital," she said, wincing as she tried to settle on the seat without moving her leg.
I shook my head and sat down on the other side of the table. "We can't do that, Ms Swan."
"Why?"
There was a hint of fear in her voice, as if she thought she might have to live with this pain forever, but before I could answer a waitress came along, a middle aged blonde woman with a pad and a pen.
"Hi, what can I get you?" she asked cheerfully.
I looked at the girl but she frowned and said nothing.
"Order something," I told her.
She looked away and didn't answer. The pain was very clear on her face and the waitress gave me an inquiring look. I sighed and took a menu from where it sat in a silver holder and glanced it over before setting it back and smiling at the waitress.
"She'll have a hot beef sandwich and a chocolate milkshake, thank you."
"And you?"
"Just water, I'm not hungry."
The waitress jotted that down and nodded. "Coming right up."
Then she left.
I followed her with my eyes and looked at the other patrons. Men hunched at the counter, others at tables. All of them ugly and relatively normal looking, glancing over their shoulders at this booth in the back where this devastating redhead had simply walked in off the street. With a hostage. It was too much attention and I knew we shouldn't stay long.
I turned back to the girl and found her glaring at me. At first I thought she was upset that I might've ordered the wrong thing for lunch but apparently she was still fixated on her need for a hospital.
"Why can't I go to a hospital?" she demanded.
I smirked flippantly. "No insurance, for one thing."
"I'm serious."
"So am I. Hospitals require all sorts of credentials that we don't have. Not to mention your little stunt back home will draw a lot of attention. Very soon a lot of people are going to be looking for you and we can't afford to leave any record of you, false or otherwise, at a hospital."
"Do you have any idea how much pain I'm in?"
She had completely ignored my logic but that was okay. I smiled at her and leaned with my elbows on the table, bunching my breasts between my arms in the cleavage of my dress, and retorted:
"Do you have any idea how much I enjoy your pain?"
She glared at me without replying. So much anger in those dark eyes and yet none of more real than smoke. No matter how much she wanted to hate me for what I did to her and her father she just couldn't do it. Not genuinely. She liked me too much.
The waitress bought the drinks and the food and went away again. The hot beef sandwich sat on the plate with a side of fries and the girl stared down at it sullenly. Then she looked up and reached across the table for the glass of water instead, wincing as pressure was put on her leg.
"I can't eat," she said. "I'll probably just throw it up."
She drank the water. I watched her. Another sheen of sweat had appeared on her forehead and a slightly glazed look had come over her eyes. The aspirins were working but she was still in a lot of pain.
"You should eat," I said.
She looked at me drily. But perhaps she noticed the genuine solicitousness in my voice because she bit back any retort before looking down at the sandwich and sighing and picking it up to take a bite. She chewed and swallowed and it must've tasted good enough to remind her that she was in fact famished.
She took another bite. I smiled and watched her. She swallowed and took a sip of her chocolate milkshake and then frowned at me as she bit again.
"You killed three people last night," she said.
It seemed like just a casual mention so I gave it a casual shrug. "And?"
"And you don't even care, do you?"
"Of course not. Why would I?"
She shook her head again and kept eating. She seemed more annoyed at my lack of conscience than anything else and I thought it was a curious reaction. I watched her eat and smiled.
"Do you?"
"Do I what?"
"Do you care? About those men who died?"
She seemed offended at the question and she stopped chewing for a moment. Then she swallowed and took another bite.
"Of course I do," she muttered.
I chuckled softly to myself and didn't reply. The longer we remained together, the more I learnt about her. I only wish she would learn as well.
"If you say so," I said.
She didn't answer, she just shook her head and kept eating. I watched her and wondered how long it would take for her to come to the same realizations about herself as I had. Since meeting her she had displayed some rather disturbing symptoms. When I had come home after killing that blonde girl from the gas station, she had eaten a full meal and had sex with me. When she learnt that her father had been killed, her first reaction was to incinerate me with a homemade flamethrower. Did she think all that was normal?
She seemed to have reconciled a lot of it with the fact that I was a vampire. As if the supernatural slant to the situation made it different somehow. More excusable. But deep down she must be aware that murder is murder and a slut—like herself—is a slut. She still seemed to be in a bit of denial but I suppose that was natural enough. In the space of a week she had been confronted by latent lesbianism, a taste for masochism, and early evidence of a psychotic lack of empathy. She had come somewhat to terms with those first two but that last one was going to take a bit more time.
Soon the sandwich was finished and she drained the last of her milkshake in a grudging manner. She still looked hungry and I smiled and asked if she wanted some pie as well and she snorted and muttered fine.
The afternoon was wearing on by the time we left the diner and we had a few stops to make. I left her in the car—warning her to keep still or I'll happily break her other leg as well—and went into a clothing store. I found a black coat similar to my old one, water resistant and double breasted in military style like a fashionable lieutenant, and a black hoody as well for the girl. She was going to have to stay covered up even more than me in the sun. It won't be long until her picture is all over the media.
I went back out to the car and gave her the hoody to put on. It was cold and her top was thin so she didn't complain. She leaned forward in the car seat to shrug it on, wincing as her leg moved, and I asked if she was okay. She said no she wasn't. I noticed she was still wearing both boots and I told her to swing her legs outside the car. She did and I knelt down on the sidewalk and unlaced the boot on her damaged leg as gently as possible before slipping it off to ease the pressure. She gasped at the pain and started sweating again. I cooed for her to calm down and I took the opportunity to examine her leg. I wasn't a trained medical professional but judging from the swelling it seemed that the broken bone was the more slender fibula at the rear of the calf, not the thicker shinbone of the tibia. That was good news and I told her so and gave a little kiss on her kneecap.
It was dark soon after and by then I had found a veterinarian clinic that ought to suit our purposes. It had only one doctor, some woman named Felicity Coleman, and if luck was on our side we should be able to get the girl patched up by tonight.
I had pulled into the parking lot at the rear of the clinic and then we just sat there. Waiting. The girl had gone silent and sullen again. If she was confused at what we were doing here, she didn't mention it. There were only three other cars in the parking lot and soon two of them were gone. It was about nine o'clock at night. The last car left beside ours was a sagegreen Mercedes. I kept my eye on it and on the rear of the clinic. The streetlamps didn't reach the parking lot and the shadows were largely to my purpose.
It was utterly silent in the car but then there was a suck of breath from the girl beside me. Some kind of pain in her leg. I glanced at her and she finally spoke.
"My leg is killing me," she said.
"Try not thinking about it," I replied, and then added dryly: "Or complaining about it."
She ignored that and followed my gaze out of the windshield to the rear exit of the clinic. A bare steel door. She frowned at it and then winced again at another jab of pain in her leg.
"What the fuck are we doing at a veterinarian?" she finally blurted out.
"They have x-ray machines and equipment to set bones and most importantly there won't be any records," I said. I smirked at her. "I also enjoy the subtext of taking you to a vet like any other pet."
She glared at me but ignored that last part. "You're going to put the cast on me yourself?"
I didn't answer, I just smiled. To be honest, I would rather break her leg further than set it. It was truly a shame human beings were so fragile. Broken bones took so long to heal they were hardly worth the thrill of breaking them to begin with—unless you intended to kill the victim, of course.
We were silent for a while longer with no activity at all in the parking lot before she spoke again.
"How long do we have to wait?"
"Not long," I said. "It's already closed. The clinic is run by only one doctor. We just have to wait for her to leave. That must be her car, over there. You can tell by the custom licence plate."
I pointed at the Mercedes. Just dimly in the light you could make out the custom frame on the licence plate, some charming quotation of veterinarians. She leaned to peer closer through the windshield but that only caused more pain in her leg.
She sat back, wincing. I smiled at her.
"Just hope nothing goes wrong," I said. "If something goes wrong, we'll be here all night and we'll have to come back tomorrow."
She didn't reply for a minute. She sat there with her eyes closed, gripping her upper thigh as if to keep the whole leg still and then she opened her eyes and noticed me watching her.
"It really hurts," she said.
"How badly?"
"Very badly."
She closed her eyes again and I smiled at the look in her face. The crinkled brow, the sweat on her forehead. Pain looked very lovely on her and yet it was somewhat distressing as well. I was torn between the desire to taunt her and the desire to soothe her but in the end I suppose I always did have a soft spot for her.
"Just try to relax," I told her. "You'll be all patched up in a minute."
She didn't answer, she just sat there with her eyes closed, breathing harshly, oddly sexualized. I smiled and leaned toward her slightly.
"Is there anything I can do to take your mind off the pain?" I asked softly.
The sultriness in her tone caused her eyes to open and look at me. Distress in those dark orbs and perhaps excitement as well.
"Like what?"
I smirked and put a hand on her thigh—the unhurt one.
She glared at it and said nothing. She was wearing that pleated black miniskirt and the fabric made no resistance at all as I slid my hand higher and caressed my fingers inside her lap. She shivered, at the pain or the touch I wasn't sure, and then pushed at the hand.
"Stop it," she said.
I didn't stop and she pushed harder. But the movement caused her other leg to jostle and she quickly gave up, gasping and suddenly panting for breath under the pain.
I smiled and began rubbing my fingers against her panties.
"You'd be better off not to move," I told her teasingly.
She looked at me desperately with a fresh coating of sweat on her forehead. "Just fucking stop it."
"Relax," I whispered, rubbing. "Focus on my fingers."
"I don't want to focus on your fucking fingers."
I giggled and smiled at her as if she was the most charming thing ever. "Have you noticed how much you swear lately? Every second word out of your mouth. But I suppose it's not the only bad habit you've picked up in my company, hm?"
I applied a little extra pressure with my fingers as if to suggest her worst habits were the ones she'd developed in her pussy. I feel it flinching under my fingers and I could feel the heat building. I loved that heat. She was sitting very still and rigid and she looked at me with pure hate in her eyes.
"Fuck you," she said.
"Mmm," I murmured in agreement, smiling and rubbing, caressing that soft cotton and the even softer pussy behind it.
She continued glaring at me although the glare was fast melting into a stare as a blush rose in her cheeks and her breath began to heave. I stared back, mesmerized at this power I had over her body. How much of it was forced and how much was consensual? The lines were as blurred as the look in her dark and wonderful eyes. I gazed at her and smiled.
"You're so beautiful, Ms Swan," I said softly. "Or maybe at this point in our relationship I should call you Bella. What do you think?"
The glare flickered again over her face. "I think you can go to hell."
"Oh, Bella," I said with a giggle. "You're so silly. Come here, kiss me."
She didn't. She was focusing on glaring and trying to resist but I knew how to break that. I glanced at the windshield, hoping we had time, and then turned back and pressed my fingers harder against her pussy and gave a rough rub. She flinched and then gasped at the pain that shot up her broken leg. She dragged her eyes back to mine, far less defiant now, and I smiled at her and leaned over the gearshift with my full lips pursed.
"Kiss me," I told her.
She knew she didn't have a choice and it's not like she suddenly wasn't attracted to me anymore. She resisted for just a second more and then she finally closed the distance and pressed her lips to mine.
I used my free hand to cup her neck and pull her into it, parting her lips with my tongue and relishing in the small whimper she made into my mouth both at the pain in her leg and at the jolt between her thighs as I found her clit. I pinched it through the cotton of her panties for a while, teasing it while I tongued her mouth, and then I slipped my hand into her panties and began stroking her bare pussy.
It was getting wet by now and I continued to rub her and make her flinch and moan. I knew what her pussy liked. It was the same thing my fingers liked. That lovely warmth, that slick wetness. It was almost enough to make me wish I was a man. I suppose that was one of the drawbacks of lesbianism: the inability to shove your vagina into another woman's. Too bad clits weren't large enough.
By now her own hands had come up to my face and she was kissing me back with strange kind of passiveness. As if the wilfulness had gone out of her for the moment and she figured she might as well go along with it. Using her tongue and moaning. Holding my cheeks, stroking them. Whimpering every now and then from the pain in her leg. I inserted two fingers inside her and curled them up and she shivered enough to jostle her leg which then caused a shudder of pain that broke the kiss.
I smiled at her, my fingers still inside her. Her leg had positioned wrongly and she had to use her hands to move her knee in order to take the pressure off, her vagina clenching reflexively from the pain. I smiled at her.
"It hurts, doesn't it?" I asked her, curling my fingers in that hot interior of her.
"Yes," she muttered, flushed, blinking, trying to fight back both the pain and the pleasure.
I smiled at her and pumped my fingers gently, out then in again. My hand was trapped in her panties so it was only a shallow pump. She hissed in a breath and her vagina gave a little spasm. I smiled and wanted to do so much more to her.
"How much would it hurt to take your panties off, do you think?" I asked with an idle teasingness.
She glared at me. "A lot."
"I know what would hurt worse."
"What?"
I smiled, my fingers buried in all that hot wetness. I would've given anything for a penis of my own to stick inside her but I suppose a strapon would have to do. I pulled my fingers out and smirked.
"Get out of the car," I told her.
Then I opened my door and got out.
It took her a bit longer to follow but I could see her struggling with her crutches as I went around to the trunk. I glanced once across the lot at that metal door and reminded myself that we had to be quick. It was already quite a while past closing and any moment the owner of the clinic would be emerging to go home—after one last emergency patient, of course.
The dufflebag was still unzipped and I quickly got the strapon out and began putting it on under the skirt of my dress, right there in the parking lot. Good thing the area was mostly enclosed at the rear of the clinic, with a brickwall on one side and a high fence with a gate on the other. It might've been a little awkward for any late night motorists to cruise by and see some woman buckling a strapon in the middle of a parking lot.
By now the girl had managed to get out of the car and she was leaning on one of the aluminium crutches. She was breathing heavy from the pain and I hoped the strain hadn't dried her up too much. She saw the bright red strapon poking out from under the bright red skirt of my dress and frowned.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
I ignored her with a smile and sidled into the passenger seat of the car before patting my lap with the strapon sticking straight up.
"Get on top," I said.
A half-panicked look passed over her, leaning there in the darkness on the crutch. "I can't do that," she said. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
"Yes, you can."
"My fucking leg is broken, you psycho."
"Oh, don't be dramatic," I said with a chuckle. "It's only a fracture."
She glared at me with the crutch under her arm, not moving. I smiled and lifted my skirt to reveal more of my pearl-white thighs before gripping the shaft of the strapon with one hand and patting my lap with the other.
"Now come," I said. "Get on top."
Her glare faltered for a second and she looked toward the gate of the parking lot, as if there might be help over there. If her leg wasn't broken, she might've made a run for it. Then again, if her leg wasn't broken, she probably wouldn't have hesitated to jump directly on top of the strapon like the little slut she was.
Finally she turned back to me and she seemed to give up for the moment. She used one hand to lower her panties from under her skirt, pushing them down to her knees and then wincing in pain as she pushed them down further and away from her shoes. I was delighted to see how wet they were and I gave the shaft of the strapon an enticing stroke for her to see. She left her panties on the asphalt of the parking lot floor and set her crutch against the car, leaning on the roof for support, and then she slowly—and very carefully—swung her broken leg into the car and over my lap.
She almost cried out from the pain as her weight settled onto that broken bone and she almost fell right back out of the car. But I managed to grab her butt to support her before dragging her other leg inside the car too.
Finally she was straddling my lap with the strapon poking up between us and she levelled a tear-filled glared at me.
"I can't do this," she said. "It fucking hurts."
She had her arms around my neck for support and I enjoyed the twisted intimacy—clinging to me for support even though I was the source of her torment. I smirked at her agony and cupped her face before slipping my hand into her hair and clenching a handful of it to give her a little more pain.
"It hurt when you almost burnt me alive as well," I told her in a dangerously soft voice. "So why don't you just shut up and do as your told, hm?"
"Fuck you," she spat with tears in her eyes.
I put my other hand on her leg and squeezed it—the broken leg.
A short scream came out of her. More of a cry. It had only been her thigh I squeezed but the pressure was more than enough to extend to the broken part in her calf. Tears dropped from her eyes and her glare all but disappeared in the wake of that pain and helplessness. I still had my other hand clenched in her hair and now I smiled at her.
"Listen to me very carefully, Ms Swan," I said. "In as much pain as you are in now, I'm struggling very hard not to inflict more. Do you understand that? I want to hurt you. I want to hurt you so bad…"
I leaned to her throat and licked it and then I smiled at her again.
"But at the same time I don't want to hurt you at all," I said. "I really don't. I treasure you far too much to inflict actual damage on you. So why don't you meet me halfway here? Hm?"
She whimpered from both the pain in her scalp and her leg. Her face was pulled back like a facelift from my grip in her hair and her wide eyes were filled with terror.
"Please," she said. "Don't make me."
"Shh, shh, shh," I cooed to her, letting go of her hair and preparing to help her onto the strapon. "Let's do it nice and fast. We'll do it on three, okay? Are you ready?"
"No," she whimpered, but she took the strapon in her hand because she could see it was going to happen no matter what.
I smiled and began to count. "One…"
"Please," she sniffled as I gripped my hands on her butt under her skirt. "Don't."
"Two…"
"No."
"Three," I said, and then I hefted her up by her ass and lowered her again with the strapon spiking directly into her vagina.
She screamed and thrashed from the pain and screamed some more. I only just barely got my hand over her mouth to smother it. Every inch of the strapon was impaled inside her and in all honestly she probably hadn't been quite aroused enough to handle it. But that would've been nothing to the pain in her leg. Her screams tapered off into sobs and soon she collapsed forward onto me, like a hug, and struggled mightily to hold back any more screams. I could hear her whimpering directly into my ear and then I could feel her biting down on it to supress the pain. I sat there smiling and stroking her quivering buttocks and whispering to her seductively.
"Shh," I was saying. "Don't cry, Ms Swan. You know you like it. No need to pretend. Just let yourself enjoy it."
She finally let go of her death grip around my neck and sat back to stare at me with a face that was pale and broken and stained with tears and sweat.
"I fucking hate you," she said, and then she swooped to my mouth and stuffed her tongue inside it.
I grinned into the kiss and her quick submission didn't surprise me too much. I wasn't only teasing when I told her she wanted it. She did. We had only been together for a week but by now I knew her body as well as I knew my own. I knew exactly what she wanted and what she wanted most of all was to be pushed to her limits. To find out what she was really capable of. To discover how deep she could sink.
I held her and sucked on her tongue and tongued her back, handling her body without any regard for her broken leg and causing her to whimper into the kiss and cry gently and give tiny little shoves of her hips into the strapon, pushing through the pain and seeking out any pitiful arousal she could find that would help smother the pain. I gripped her ass for a bit—I absolutely loved her ass—and then began lifting her top.
She finally broke the kiss as her tits were revealed and she sat back on the strapon and looked at me with her naked breasts lifting up and down from her breathing. I put my hands on them and stroked them and smiled at her. Her face had gone red and the lust had all but overpowered the pain. I pinched both of her nipples, making them even stiffer, and she hissed at the pleasure of it and began rocking on the strapon, driving it deeper inside her and stirring it all about.
I watched her, smiling, mesmerized, stroking the softness of her breasts.
"You really do like it, don't you," I whispered.
It wasn't a question and she didn't answer it. She glared at me and gave a heave of her hips, cringing at the pain in her leg, and then another heave and another one.
"Yes," I urged her, my voice half hoarse with desperation. "Keep going, Ms Swan. Keep going."
She looked at me with her dark eyes, still heaving in pain on the strapon, and she seemed to realize in that moment that a shift in domination was occurring between us. That it was her on top and it was her pleasure and her body that was the focal point here. That everything was all about her. She could see it in my eyes that it wasn't me in control anymore. It was her. If she stopped now, everything would be ruined. But if she kept going and let me watch her come—it would be everything to me. The choice was hers.
And she chose to keep going.
Because in the end maybe neither of us were truly in control of whatever we were feeling and whatever feelings we were inflicting on the other. She was as powerless to me as I was to her and together we were both as powerless as the other against this incredible irresistibleness between us. Whatever awareness that came into her eyes was quickly swallowed up in lust and she didn't even pause. She continued to heave her hips onto the shaft that protruded from my lap and she leaned down and kissed me.
I accepted the kiss and grabbed her ass again with one hand under her skirt, gripping the buttock and helping her rock back and forth. She was going very fast now and her whole body was sweating and radiating heat as if she was about to explode. The kiss had broken up and she was whimpering into my mouth and trying to kiss me some more until finally she just leaned back and heaved again and again, groaning and gasping with her face to the ceiling of the car and her tits exposed, heaving higher and higher until finally her face broke in pain and lit up again in pleasure as the orgasm wracked across her body.
I had watched the whole thing, hypnotized. Her hair was wet with sweat and the expression on her face was exquisite, the pleasure that quickly crumpled into pain. Her body had arched up and now it sagged forward as a pitiful whimper came out of her. The orgasm seemed to have overwhelmed the agony for a moment but now it was all coming back.
She was paralysed on the strapon and she couldn't seem to move. She looked at her broken leg and sobbed at it. She was shivering as if she was cold but it was the pain. I smiled at her and used a hand to brush some wet strands of hair away from her wet face. She looked at me with eyes all wet and red. I used the ball of my thumb to wipe away the fresh tears that fell and found this expression to be her most beautiful yet. So frightened and filled with agony and confusion at what her body was capable of. I was going to have to experiment on her with pain much more often.
"Wow," I whispered to her. "You truly are incredible, Ms Swan. I can't imagine what a fantastic slut it must take to ride herself to an orgasm on a broken leg."
"Fuck you," she whimpered, and then she went to kiss me as if she thought it might comfort her.
I would've been more than delighted to accept it but that's when I noticed something over her shoulder through the windshield. The door at the rear of the clinic had opened and a woman had come out with a small leatherette bag in her hand. What perfect timing. She was crossing the lot toward that Mercedes that had been there all night and she glanced once at our car. The passenger side door was open and the dome light was on but she didn't seem to notice anything suspicious at that distance. Ms Swan's lips landed on mine but there was no time for that now. I evaded her mouth and chuckled and tossed my chin at the windshield.
"There's our doctor," I said. "Time to get you patched up, hm?"
She turned to look and to try and struggle off my lap but there wasn't time for that either.
I shoved her off the strapon and let her tumble out of the car and spill into a heap on the floor of the parking lot.
I chuckled and felt an immense thrill at treating her like that. Like trash. Our relationship was going to be interesting now that I could be a little more reckless with her. She landed on her head and groaned and struggled there on the asphalt, facedown with her skirt flipped up over her bare butt. I got out of the car and stepped around her crumpled form in my high heels, smiling. She sobbed as the pain in her leg flared up and then she rolled over and sat up. Her top was still hiked up around her collar and one of her breasts had gotten dirty from rainwater on the ground.
Across the parking lot the lady veterinarian had paused in the act of opening the door to her car. From over there all she could see was the driver's side but perhaps she had heard the cries of the girl who had spilled out on the other side. I went around to the trunk and got the pistol out and I was delighted to see the woman hesitate beside her car as if she was waiting for me. I wondered if I should remove the strapon but I wasn't embarrassed and perhaps there was more fun to be had with it before the night was over. I took the pistol and went around the side of the car.
"Excuse me!" I called out. "We have a bit of an emergency over here!"
The woman saw me approaching from across the lot and she actually let go of the car door handle to see what I wanted. It took her a second or two before she noticed the skirt of my dress draped over the stiff erection of the strapon but her shock was somewhat deflected by the fact that she noticed the gun straight afterward. I lifted it at her and continued striding across the lot. She dropped her bag and jerked her arms up to shoulder level like a robbery victim.
"Oh god," she said.
I smiled at her. She wasn't young but she wasn't old either, perhaps in her late thirties and quite attractive for that. She had bobbed brown hair and she wore stylish glasses over brown eyes and her babypink blouse fit very snuggly around a pair of nice big womanly tits.
I smiled at her charmingly. "Sorry to trouble you, but my friend requires some assistance," I said. "She's over there. Hurry, let's go."
I gestured with the pistol and she started walking, not knowing what was going on and very frightened. By now Ms Swan had managed to struggle to her feet and she had one of the crutches under her arm. She saw the woman at gunpoint and she seemed not to care at all.
"You fucking bitch," she hissed at me.
I was surprised at her lack of concern for the doctor but now wasn't the time to tease her about it. I jabbed the pistolbarrel at the back of the woman's head to urge her forward.
"Help her inside," I said. "Now."
The woman didn't move, paralysed with fear, and the girl didn't seem to want any help. She glanced at the doctor, finally with a bit of sympathy, and then she just hobbled past her toward the clinic.
It was dark inside but the doctor turned the lights on. We were in one of the back rooms which seemed to be some kind of operating studio. There was a stainless steel bench in the center of it along with rows of stainless steel cabinets and shelves. The entire room was tiled and the fluorescent panels overhead was stark white.
The woman still had her hands up and I still had the gun on her.
"Is there anybody else inside?" I asked her.
She shook her head frantically. "No," she said. "Just me. Who are you people? What do you want?"
The girl had leaned back on the steel bench, one foot raised off the ground. Her face was crinkled in pain but she still managed to glare at me.
"You said you wouldn't hurt anyone," she said.
I smiled. I don't remember actually saying that but I did remember letting her assume it. I had thought she would put up a fuss but perhaps her morals had eroded more than I thought.
I turned back to the doctor.
"My friend here had something of an accident and I'm afraid we can't go to the hospital due to various legal issues," I said. "I'm going to need you to x-ray her leg and patch it up accordingly. Do that and I'll let you live. Don't do that and I'll shoot you. Understood?"
She nodded and glanced at the strapon. I wondered if it made me look more intimating or less. I had considered threatening to rape her as well but it wasn't a threat if I was going to do it anyway.
"Good," I said. "Get to work."
The doctor nodded again and approached the girl cautiously.
Ms Swan glared at me and then turned to the doctor.
The visit didn't last longer than an hour and the doctor handled herself very well, all things considered. She had to improvise with her equipment that was designed for animals but she didn't put up many objections and she didn't waste time with tears or fear. She only sniffed to herself sometimes and occasionally glanced at the pistol in my hand as she adjusted her glasses. She had put on a white labcoat and I watched her work with a growing hunger in my eyes. I had only fed last night but that had been more of an emergency snack than anything else. That slob had been far below my standards but this woman here would be quite satisfying.
The first thing she did was perform an x-ray, and like I suspected, the x-ray revealed a fracture of the fibula, which was probably the least serious kind of break a leg could suffer. The girl grunted at that, as if a little ashamed that she had suffered so much pain over such a relatively minor injury. The doctor then sat her on a stool and knelt down and wrapped the leg in gauze, from foot to knee. The girl had to open her legs a little bit and it was impossible to hide that she wasn't wearing any panties under her miniskirt. You could see her pussy peeking from under the pleated material. Both of them seemed very embarrassed but I only watched, smiling, my arms folded, the gun loose in my hand and the strapon poking up from my dress.
"She has a very pretty pussy, doesn't she?" I asked the doctor.
The doctor ignored me but you could see her face grow even queasier. The girl glared at me but said nothing. I smiled at her and then tilted my head at the doctor.
"Doesn't she?" I repeated with a certain menace.
Again the doctor ignored me, trying not to look at anything but the gauze. She was still wrapping the leg and possibly praying I wouldn't mention it again. The girl continued to glare at me, shouting at me with her eyes for me to shut the fuck up. I smiled at her and thought about it for a moment.
Then I unleaned from the counter and came up behind the doctor and put the pistol to the back of her head.
"Have you ever eaten pussy before, doctor?" I asked her casually.
The doctor sobbed. "Oh god."
She fumbled with the roll of gauze and dropped it and then she turned her face away and closed her eyes, as if the idea of going down on a girl was just as frightening as a bullet to the head. The girl glared up at me heatedly.
"Shut the fuck up," she said. "Leave her alone. I didn't even want to come here. You're the one who—"
I bashed her across the head with the pistolbutt.
She gasped and fell silent. The doctor gasped too, covering her mouth with her hands. The girl was dazed for a moment but finally she refocused her glare onto my face. I smiled at her and looked into her eyes. But I could see this was one battle I wasn't going to win. I would've loved to watch the doctor go down on her, much to their mutual mortification, but it was clear to see the girl would never get it wet under these conditions. I could tell. She wasn't all that into other women aside from me just yet and the appeal of rape was lost on her unless she herself was the victim. Pity.
So I decided to accept defeat gracefully without pressing the issue. I sighed and strolled away and resumed leaning on the counter with a casual grip on the gun.
"Keep going, doctor," I told her. "The sooner you get a cast on her the sooner this will all be over."
The doctor sobbed and fetched up the roll of gauze she'd dropped.
Soon the entire leg was bandaged and the doctor began wrapping it with a type of plastic netting, white in color. It almost looked like a great pale stocking. After that she took a brush and began to paint the netting with a chemical solution that caused it to harden as it dried. Within minutes the girl's entire leg was securely encased in a cast that covered her foot and came all the way to her knee.
No one had spoken this entire time. I handed the girl a crutch and she snatched it wordlessly and staggered to her feet—or foot. The cast hovered just over the floor and I nodded at it and smiled.
"Good work, doctor," I said. "How long will she have to wear it?"
"I-I don't know," stuttered the doctor. "I don't treat humans."
I smiled at her. "Humor me."
The doctor frowned and looked at the cast. "At a rough guess, I'd say she should wear it for at least two or three weeks," she said. "After that it can come off and she can wear a brace instead for about a month. The bone shouldn't take longer than six weeks to fully heal."
"Can the brace be taken off from time to time?"
"For sleeping or showering or just relaxing around the house, I suppose it could."
"And for sex?"
The doctor went queasy again and looked away. "It could be taken off for anything not strenuous."
I grinned and looked at the girl. She stood there awkwardly on the crutch and I let my eyes flicker over her wrapped up leg. Two weeks was more than double the current length of our relationship but I was delighted that it wouldn't be too long before I had unfettered access to her body all over again.
"Well, I guess we'll have to take the risk," I said. "I liked to brutalize her occasionally."
The doctor didn't answer and neither did the girl.
After that I urged the doctor to the front of the clinic and told her to scavenge up whatever cash they kept on the premises. It wasn't much, just over a hundred dollars. I wasn't even sure if such a paltry sum would convincingly pass for robbery, so I went back through the vandalized any evidence of our visit, breaking glass, scattering shelves, smashing the x-ray machine. The doctor looked on in sadness at the thousands of dollars of damage I was inflicting but she said nothing. Perhaps she thought she still might live through this.
Lastly I instructed her to fetch any drugs that might possibly have any streetvalue. Painkillers, tranquillizers, that kind of thing. Anything a junkie or common criminal might steal. Most of it was earmarked for animals but she did have some morphine and other things that I added to a canvas pet bag along with the cash and a few dozen syringes. All in all, I thought the police were likely to assume a robbery had taken place or perhaps a personal attack on the doctor. There was no trace of any broken leg repaired here. Aside from the eyewitness testimony of the doctor herself, of course, but that wasn't going to be a concern for much longer.
By now she didn't bother holding up her hands anymore. We were in her office, a small little room off the main operating studio. The floor was carpeted and there was a desk with a computer that I casually smashed with the butt of the pistol as the doctor flinched at each crash. The girl was standing in the doorway, waiting to go. There was a stack of animal cages against the wall and inside one of the cages was a black cat. It was obviously sick because it didn't even twitch at all the commotion. I noticed it and smiled and poked my fingers through the wire.
"Hey, there," I whispered to it. "Are you okay? What's the matter, hm?"
The doctor had watched all this and she seem to have reached the limit of her bravery. "Please," she said, almost begging. "That's enough. Just go."
I smiled at her and then I opened the cage and reached for the cat. Ms Swan watched with a glare as I took the sick animal out of the cage and cradled it in my arms and petted it.
"What the fuck are you doing?" she demanded. "Let's go, let's get out of here."
I ignored her as well and smiled at the cat. It's fur was thick and fluffy and it was a dark chocolate color. It reminded me of Ms Swan.
"Poor little kitty," I said. "She's very sick, isn't she?"
The doctor nodded fearfully. "Yes. Please put her back."
I adjusted my hand to take a grip on the cat's neck, feigning to pet her there. The poor thing had begun to purr, completely unaware of the peril I posed. I looked at the two other women in the room. I smiled at the girl.
"What do you think, Ms Swan?" I asked her. "Should I put her back in the cage? Or should I put her out of her misery? Let's have your advice on the situation since your position isn't all that different. What would you prefer in her situation? Death? Or suffering?"
The girl didn't answer. I waited a moment or two and then I snapped the cat's neck.
It didn't make a sound. The purring stopped. The doctor gasped and looked away, her eyes filling with tears behind her glasses. Ms Swan glared at me, perhaps seeing her own future in that unfortunate feline's fate.
"You fucking bitch," she said.
I smiled at her and placed the dead cat back in its cage gently before turning to the doctor.
"Now," I said. "What about you, doctor? What am I going to do with you?"
The doctor sobbed and didn't answer. The girl spoke from the doorway behind me.
"Let's go," she said. "You don't have to hurt her."
I spoke to the girl over my shoulder without taking my eyes from the doctor. "Go fetch me one of those scalpels from the other room."
"What for?"
"I just want to tie her up, that's all. So that we have time to get away. I'll need the scalpel to cut some bindings. Go, get it now."
The girl lingered there in the doorway hesitantly. Then she hobbled away on her crutch.
At least the doctor and I were all alone in that little office. She had raised her hands again, holding them at shoulder level as they trembled in fear. There was a wedding ring on one of the fingers and a few framed photographs of her husband and children on the desk. I laid down the pistol beside the photographs and then I smiled at her and then I lifted my hands and took her glasses off her face gently. Her lip quivered and she began trembling even more violently but she didn't speak.
I smiled and took a moment to admire her wholesome beauty. Her simple brown hair, short and bobbed. Her brown eyes, large and swimming with tears. Her generous breasts and childbearing hips. She was dressed in a white labcoat with a tight knee-length creamcolored skirt underneath. I was still wearing the strapon and it was beginning to feel like an actual boner sticking out from me. I placed her glasses down on the desk and then smiled at her and made a small gesture with my head toward the door where the girl disappeared.
"Silly girl doesn't realize I'm going to kill you," I said. "I can't afford to leave witnesses, you see. Speaking of which, I can't afford to leave any ballistic evidence from the gun, either. That's where the scalpel comes in."
"Wait—no!"
I had grabbed her head in my hands and now I silenced her protests with a searing kiss.
The sound of disgust she made was so sweet. I clenched my hand in her hair and kissed her even rougher, forcing my tongue into her mouth and holding her head perfectly still with my vampire strength while the rest of her body squirmed around. Her mouth was different from Ms Swan's. Fuller. I liked it. She had begun to sob and finally she managed to wrench herself away from me, spinning around and twisting an ankle in one of her shoes.
I grabbed the back collar of her labcoat and jerked it off her savagely, making her yelp as her arms were almost wrenched from their sockets. Finally the coat came away and she made a sobbing dash for the door. But I grabbed her and slapped her and kissed her again, shoving my tongue against hers and licking lasciviously all inside her mouth as she sobbed and collapsed and sobbed some more. I was clenching a handful of her hair with one hand and now I was using the other to hike up her skirt. I finally got it up over her hips and I helped myself to a nice groping of her ass, reaching into her panties and clawing at the soft flesh there as she moaned in horror into my mouth.
Finally she managed to twist away again but this time I simply pushed her back against the desk. She sat down on it and her legs went up in the air as she fell back, shoes, stockings, panties around her knees. I pulled the panties completely off and wrenched open her legs as she kicked them about. The strapon was poking up from under my skirt and I had a feeling this was going to be a lot of fun. I slapped her to make her stop squirming and smiled and wrenched open her legs again as I tried to angle the strapon into her entrance.
"I'm so glad you turned out to be relatively attractive," I was saying. "My last few murders just weren't any fun at all. Now, bear with me—I've never raped a woman with a strapon before."
I shoved it in.
All the way.
A loud howl came out of the poor thing as her dry and tight and unprepared womanhood was pierced to the cervix in one violent thrust. The pain was so great she stopped struggling entirely and she flopped back against the desk and sobbed and cried as I grinned and shoved at her again.
The scream was loud enough to bring the girl to the door, hobbling as fast she as she could on the crutch and one leg. She froze in the doorway when she saw what I was doing and dropped the scalpel. The woman was screaming and crying and her pussy was finally getting wet—with blood from her torn and ruptured vagina. The scent of it wafted up to me and made me grin wider as I gripped her hips and began shoving the strapon into her even more violently.
"Nooo!" she screamed. "Please, stop, nooooo—!"
I slapped her so hard her head bounced off the desk.
"Shh," I told her. "Not so loud."
The screams tapered into abject moans of agony as she squirmed on the desk like something being killed. Ms Swan was watching in horror and finally she spoke.
"Stop it," she said. "You're hurting her."
I chuckled and pulled off my dress in one smooth motion. Underneath I wore nothing but the strapon. My breasts were completely revealed and gave a delicious bounce as I resumed my grip on the woman's hips and continued to thrust into her savagely.
"Watch carefully, Ms Swan," I told her. "This is what would've happened to you if you weren't such a slut."
Ms Swan didn't answer. She just stood there and watched with her mouth open, half in shock, half in horror. I smiled at her and wondered if she wasn't just a little excited too.
The woman was crying and now I tore open her pink blouse. I wanted to get at her tits. The buttons on the blouse popped outward and the bra she was wearing was a plain white underwire. I didn't bother unlatching it, I just ripped it open and smiled as her huge breasts wobbled free. They were even larger than mine and very full and sloppy on her chest. I slapped one of them as if to spank it and then squeezed it and gave her ruined vagina another rough thrust.
She was sobbing now, her face wet with tears, and her legs were just hanging over the edge of the desk with me between them, naked, gripping her tits, shoving at her pussy with my hips. I smiled and tossed my crimson hair and flashed the smile at the girl in the door way.
"This is more fun than you'd think," I said. "I can't feel the strapon myself, of course, but I suppose that's never been much of an issue for me. It's always been my habit to focus on the needs of my partner. It's just the kind of lover I am."
The girl didn't answer but by now I could see that deep in the horror of her dark eyes there was indeed a smoulder of excitement. She was watching very attentively, her eyes flickering over my jiggling boobs, my thrusting hips, the ruined woman who lay moaning on the desk like a sacrifice.
I watched every movement of her eyes and I smiled as they rose to mine.
"You see, Ms Swan? You see how much it hurts her? I could do this her all night and never once would she orgasm. Do you know why? Because she's not like you. Her body isn't the same as yours is. Watch. Watch her face."
I reached and took the woman's chin and turned her face to the doorway. She sobbed. Mucus was bubbling from her nose and her eyes were pouring tears.
Ms Swan looked at her and went queasier. I smiled at her and slapped the woman's face and then slapped it again, just to display my dominance, and then jabbed at her destroyed vagina with my hips. The woman sobbed and twisted in pain and begged for me to stop.
Ms Swan hobbled a step forward into the room.
"Stop it," she said. "Please."
I smiled and slowed down the thrusting and then I stopped with the strapon still buried inside her. The woman's legs were hanging over the edge of the desk like broken lilystems and her stockings were torn and both of her shoes had flung across the room. I stroked her thighs and watched her, wondering if she had enough. She was sobbing and hiccupping from the pain and her face wasn't quite as attractive anymore with so many fluids leaked on it.
I removed the strapon and surveyed the damage there. Her womanhood was completely covered in blood and blood had leaked onto the desk and dripped onto the carpet. She looked like she'd had a particularly nasty period.
Smiling, I bobbed down and gave it a lick. The blood smouldered on my tongue and I swallowed and licked again, moaning. The woman was trying to close her legs and roll away but the pain was too much. I spread her bloody netherlips with my fingers and smiled at the torn hole of her vagina and then I pressed my lips to that red and gaping entrance to drink the slowly leaking blood.
The girl watched everything and said nothing. The only sounds in the room were the sounds of me and my victim moaning, me in pleasure, her in anguish.
Eventually she gained enough strength to roll away from me. Unfortunately, this also caused her to fall off the desk. She hit the floor and struggled to sit up, sobbing at the pain between her legs. I rose and watched her for a moment, smiling at her torn stockings and the blood that covered her lower body. The girl still hadn't spoken and now I smiled at her and went over. She looked at me fearfully as if she thought I was going to rape her the same way but I only bobbed down to retrieve the scalpel from the floor.
By now the woman was sitting back against the desk and whimpering and trying to pull her blouse over her breasts. I kicked at her hands with my shoes and opened the blouse again.
"Don't cover them," I said. "Let her see."
The woman sobbed and gave up, letting her wrists fall to the carpet and leaving her tits to hang out. She looked up brokenly. I smiled at the girl in the doorway and pointed at the woman with the scalpel.
"Do you see, Ms Swan?" I asked her. "Do you see the difference?"
The girl frowned and her voice came out soft and strange. "What difference?"
I smiled and came around behind her and held her around her middle so that I could gaze at the woman over her shoulder. "Isn't it obvious?" I whispered into the girl's ear. "You're here, she's there. In a few minutes you'll still be here. And her? She's going to die. And do you know why?"
"Why?"
"Because she isn't the same as you are," I whispered and kissed her earlobe. "She's not special like you."
The girl shrugged out of my embrace and adjusted the crutch under her arm. I looked at her and waited for her reply. She frowned at the woman on the floor and back at me. She looked at my blood stained mouth, the blood stained strapon. Smears of blood on my marble white legs. She shook her head sadly.
"I'm not special," she said.
"What are you then?"
She hobbled past me and through the door.
"I'm no better than you are," she said.
Then she continued on down the corridor.
I smiled and watched her go, assuming she would wait in the car. I was glad to hear her admit it from her own mouth that she was no different than I was. Or no better, as she put it. It was a shame she had to put a negative spin on it but I suppose a certain amount of shame was inevitable. All her life she had been taught to be a good person and to follow the rules of society. It would take a while to replace those teachings but tonight had been a good first lesson.
I turned back to the woman in the office and sauntered forward. By now she had struggled to her feet and she was leaning on the desk for support, her naked legs quivering, blood running down the inside of her thighs. Her skirt was still hiked up over her hips and she had her back to me. I gave her a spank on her broad ass and I was almost taken by surprise as she turned around with the gun. I had left it on the desk, silly me. She almost managed to get a shot off but I chuckled and took it from her and tossed it aside.
She sobbed and almost collapsed again.
"Please," she said. "Don't…"
I smiled and took her chin in my free hand, turning her head to expose her throat. "Usually I prefer to bite, but I left a victim with bite marks in a town not far from here, and it wouldn't do to repeat the MO. Just keep still, this won't hurt at all."
I inserted the scalpel into her neck and severed the carotid artery.
A gentle gasp came out of her. As if it almost felt nice. Blood squirted across the room and hit the wall and ran down it. I pressed my mouth to the wound and closed my eyes and began to suck down the blood, holding her close like a partner administering a love bite. Our breasts were mashed together, hers warm and heaving, mine cold and hard, and I groped her generous ass with one hand as I continued to suck her blood.
Eventually her legs went loose and she slumped against me and slid down. I smiled and licked my wet and red lips. Too bad the girl didn't want to stay and watch this last part. It was always the best part.
I had gotten blood all over my body and I used the woman's panties to clean myself up a little. It was a little obscene, perhaps, but the cotton was nice and soft. Afterwards I dropped them and finally unbuckled the strapon. I put it into the bag with the cash and drugs in it along with the gun and then I slipped on my dress. There was a bit of blood on the dress too but the dress was already red so the stains were merely dark.
The woman was laying there face down and her buttocks had gone pale. I bobbed down and rolled her over and looked at her face. Her eyes were open and staring upwards. As if she couldn't bear to look at me. I smiled at her and then I rose and left her there with her pale and waxy tits exposed and her legs open and her stockings all torn. The police wouldn't find any semen on her but perhaps they'd assume the rapist was simply safety conscious enough to wear a condom. She didn't look diseased but I suppose one could never be too careful.
The girl was waiting out in the parking lot, as I assumed. She saw me coming and got into the car wordlessly. I stowed the bag of loot in the trunk and got in as well.
She was staring out the window sullenly as I started the car. I smiled at her.
"How's the leg?" I asked her.
She looked at me dryly. "Better."
I chuckled and backed out of the parking space and swung the car around and drove out through the gate.
For a long time I wasn't sure where I was going. We still had no place to stay and no way to acquire one. Not until tomorrow, at least. Ms Swan had fallen silent and offered no suggestions. The city was dark and shapes of skyscrapers and highrises rose into the night all aglitter with lights. The lights washed over the car and over the face of the girl who stared out the window sullenly. She seemed disappointed that she hadn't been more traumatized by what she had witnessed but I was delighted. I asked her if she was hungry and she said not really. So I pulled up at a pizza place and ordered her a pizza.
While we waited we both used the restroom. I still had smudges of blood on various parts of my body and I used a wet papertowel to wash it all off. I lifted my skirt and washed my pussy as well so the girl could go down on me later. I had been using that strapon all day and I wasn't selfless enough that I didn't require at least a little release.
After we got the pizza we took it to the car and I kept driving until we came to a quiet place under a bridge that spanned a road downtown. I parked and we sat there with the lights off while the girl ate and sipped from a soda. I watched her and she didn't seem to mind. She was used to it by now. She sucked at the straw of the soda and in the dimness I let my eyes roam over her face, her glossy lips, her pale skin, her long dark hair. She really was special, my Ms Swan. Even now I didn't fully understand why, but she was. There was just something about her that separated her from every other man or woman I had ever met.
Once she was finished eating she closed the box on the remainder of the pizza and set it on the dash and wiped her mouth.
"So where we going now?" she asked without much expression.
I smiled at her. "Nowhere."
"What do you mean?"
"For now this will have to be home sweet home. For tonight, at least."
"We're supposed to sleep in the car?"
"You are, not me. No one said life as an outlaw would be easy. We'll find a place to stay once the sun comes up. A small apartment somewhere with a flexible landlord who accepts cash. Are you cold?"
She was rubbing her arms but she shook her head. She had taken off her hoody a while ago. I smiled at her.
"Come on, let's get in the back," I said.
She looked at me. Then she sighed and got out of the car.
I got out as well and went to the trunk and got my coat out of it. I hadn't worn it yet but I suppose the girl could use it as a blanket. She had already gotten into the back seat and now I got in from the other side. Neither of us spoke. Her eyes were half lidded and I remembered that she hadn't slept in two days. It would be rather ogre-ish of me to demand sex from her in such a state but I had my needs and in all honesty she didn't seem all that resistant. In the smoky sleepiness in those dark orbs it even seemed like she wanted to do it.
So I cupped her face in my hand and drew her into a kiss. She responded and moaned softly and opened her mouth and brushed her tongue against mine. I smiled and kissed her some more, letting the kiss increase the throb between my legs. I felt one of her hands cup one of my breasts and caress it through the fabric of the dress and give it a squeeze. She moaned again into the kiss and by now I was a little surprised at her eagerness. I chuckled into it and kissed her again and broke the kiss to smile at her.
"How does it taste?" I asked her.
She gazed at me breathlessly. "What?"
"That woman's blood on my mouth," I said with a smile. "Does it taste as sweet to you as it did to me?"
I thought the mention of it might jar her out of her arousal but she only shook her head.
"I can't taste anything," she said.
I smiled and stroked her cheek and gazed into her exhausted eyes. "You really are a little fucked up, aren't you Ms Swan?"
"I thought you were going to call me Bella from now on?"
"Bella," I repeated softly. Then I smiled. "Come here, Bella."
She drifted forward into the kiss again, all by herself. Her tongue again came into my mouth, not roughly, not aggressively. But gently. Almost lovingly. She seemed to be seeking comfort from the kiss or perhaps using it as a way to ingratiate herself, like she had done the first time I had come to her with a victim's blood on my hands. Whatever her motives, it was lovely.
She kissed me for a long time and touched my breasts and after a while she went down on me. I opened my legs and lifted the skirt of my dress, one foot in the floor of the car, the other up over the backrest. No panties. My pussy was throbbing with horniness and a soft hiss came out of me as she gave it a delicate lick. Then another one. Then harder and firmer. I moaned and watched her, stroking her hair, and soon she was licking at me nice and fast, licking up all my moisture and probing her tongue into my folds and licking inside my interior before taking my clit between her lips and sucking me to a climax.
The orgasm scrunched me up in the backseat and I laughed to myself as it ebbed away. The girl was still licking me and I watched her long time, just enjoying the sensation of her tongue. After a while she rose up and wiped her mouth with her wrist. Her lips were shiny and her eyes were completely glazed. She looked like she had been drugged. I suppose it was a combination of painkillers, agony, trauma, sleep deprivation, and the fact that she was completely in love with me even if she couldn't admit it.
She shuffled forward, keeping her weight off the cast on her leg, and gave me another kiss on my mouth. I accepted it and smiled and stroked her hair back.
"Mmm," I murmured into it. "That was wonderful."
She blinked at me hugely and of a sudden she seemed to become even more tired. "Can I sleep now?"
"Of course, of course. You've been awake for two days. Come here, lay down."
I helped her lay her head on my lap, all curled up in the backseat, and then I spread my coat over her like a blanket. She was using my thigh as a pillow and she snuggled on it and sighed. Her breath tickled my skin and made me smile. I put my hand on her head and began stroking her hair very gently. Soothingly.
"Tomorrow we'll find a nice apartment together and after that we'll settle down for a while," I told her softly. "I'm actually very excited. Not only will it be my first relationship with a human, but with a girl too. I think that's sweet. It's going to be a very new experience for me. Are you as excited as I am?"
"No," she said limply.
"Not even a little bit?"
"No," she repeated.
I didn't believe her and I chuckled gently as I continued to toy and fiddle with her beautiful dark hair. "That's okay," I said. "I guess you're still mad at me. But you won't be forever. Time heals all wounds. Until time itself kills you. But that's not going to happen to us. Soon you'll become a vampire just like me. Although not too soon. Eventually. As a newborn you'll be much stronger than I am, so you'll have to earn my trust first. Or perhaps it's me who will have to earn yours. You're a tricky thing to deal with, Ms Swan. Bella. Sometimes I think you require a gentle hand to coax the affection from you. Other times I think you require to be snapped in half like a twig. The fastest way to a woman's heart is through her ribcage, but I think it'll take a little more finesse to reach yours. What do you think? Hm? Can you give me any hint? What would be the most effective way to claim that beautiful heart of yours?"
I leaned down a little to see if she would answer but she was already asleep. I smiled and stroked back her hair and placed a kiss on her brow.
"Sleep well, Ms Swan," I whispered. Then I added even softer. "Bella."
After that I kissed her again on her hair and then sat up and turned my gaze to the darkened city in the window to await the morning.
—
AN: Bit brutal, this one. I've been trying not to escalate too fast, but at the same time, I don't want to stall too long either. This story is already approaching novel-length, lol. Either way, hope nobody was turned off from this chapter. The murder scene was intended to drag Bella a little deeper into the darkness and draw a contrast between what's happening to her and what could've happened. It's supposed to show that Bella is different. I was a little hesitant to use the strapon for that scene, but I think it turned out okay. Anyway, hope you liked it. New chapter soon. :)
