Chapter 7
"You get your motor running over just me talkin', eh?" He jeered as she nodded through whimpers. "Then, you're not gonna last long, love." He laughed and flicked his knife shut as he crawled down her body. "Do me a favor and try reeeally hard to be a good girl. After all, I came all this way for you. The least you could do is show me a good time." Tears were streaming down her face. She was thrilled, but terrified. His laugh brought her pulse to a quickened beat and she had a thousand twisted scenarios running through her head. Trying desperately to clear her thoughts, she regained a glimpse of composure just long enough to look at him. He was rolling up his sleeve with a slow, methodical intention, his eyes locked hers in an inescapable embrace.
"You ready?" He couldn't deny that this was kind of hot. She so badly wanted whatever he had in mind; and, having read her work, he knew that she knew what he was capable of. He could just start stabbing her... I bet she'd let him... but where's the fun in that? He wrapped his fist around the handle of the closed switchblade, fingering the button. Pressing the cold hilt to her, he pinched her clit firmly with his other hand. She bucked backwards and squeaked. Oh she was ripe. His fist clenched around the handle of the blade, lying in wait. He had no trouble parting her and sliding in. She was warm, and so slick. He halfway shut his eyes and wished that he had a real body to destroy this tight little cunt. Shaking the want out of his head, he focused. He forced his fist into her and felt her tighten up around him. "Ah, ah, ah, not so fast." He wrenched his hand out of her and showed her how he had the blade palmed in his fist. He pressed the button, the knife sprang out with a loud ClicK... a cold, audible reminder of the real danger. "Ya better keep that in check." He winked.
She cried out and slammed her eyes closed, feeling vulnerable. She wished he would stop laughing, every time he did she felt an irresistible wave of lust ride up through her body.
Chucky folded the knife closed again, safely tucked up in its handle, and licked her flavor off the side of his hand. "You taste delicious" he chuckled, absolutely reveling in the way his words hit her like bricks. He probably didn't even need to touch her to get her to come at this point, but he was enjoying himself. Despite her better judgment, her body was cooperating. She had been edging closer and closer to release all night, and this was the first time in a long time she had felt that unbridled yearning of being super turned on. She eyed him as he reached back down and felt for her. She raised her hips to meet him, spreading her thighs wider and relaxing to let his fist fill her out completely. It felt fucking awesome. Something about the ridges of his knuckles and the solid, cold hilt of the handle was spectacular. She rose with his movements, feeling him exploring her insides, his arm now reaching further, up to his elbow. He had a look of murderous glee on his face when she opened her eyes. He punched in against her, pulling out softly and thrusting in further and harder each time. The metal handle found its way to giving, soft walls. She felt the tension building smoothly and perfectly.
"Are you gonna scream?" He rasped at her. "I wanna hear you beg for death." He heaved forward and latched his mouth over her clit, sucking and stabbing with his tongue. She did scream, hard. His mouth was tough, the pressure was exquisite. Most lovers had felt soft and wilted in the mouth when they had tried to go down on her, but Chucky's was unapologetic and precise. He gripped her hood with his teeth and sucked her in flawlessly. She felt her pussy contract, she wretched but held it in. He started laughing, the chuckle broke over her body with waves of vibration. She clenched again.
The gag of her panties fell out with her thrashing. The chugging motion of his fist, plus, the tantalizing motion of his tongue over her was too much. Marcy whined and squirmed under his touch. She could see his eyes rolling and feel him jerking with laughter. He was orchestrating her in a way she couldn't even perform on herself.
"Chucky, please" she begged as he fist fucked her, matching rhythm with his mouth expertly. "I have to... please don't hurt me." She thrashed on the bed, trying to wriggle away from his grip. She was too close, this was starting to hurt trying to hold back. He lost his grasp on her for a moment, still moving inside her but laughing out loud now.
"'S'matta? You feeling the urge?" He growled at her. It was hopeless. She had fought the feeling, but couldn't deny that this was the darkest, hottest thing that had ever happened to her. She was shaking, reeling, and almost peaking with every thrust. He moved his left hand to her clit and covered it with his thumb, snapping, flicking, rubbing the last seconds of life out of her. "Come for Chucky." He asserted forcefully. She had only a few moments left to keep this desire at bay. Her body was pleading. Would he really kill her? Her mind was bargaining. He started twisting his fist as he pumped inside of her, and pinched down on her thigh. She was useless right now, he could tell. Malleable Marcy. Practically grinding on her own murder weapon like a slut. He was fisting her mercilessly, her pussy juicing and squirting with every thrust. "C'mon babe..." He tempered his pace and lowered his voice, slowing to a thorough pump. He pressed hard, thrusting up toward her navel, pulled out quickly, back in. His grip on her thigh hardened. He released her flesh and covered her her clit with his palm, pinning it with pressure. "Playtime's Over." His words sent her reeling; she buckled and caved. He felt her come in tightening waves, gliding over his arm, up his fist, sucking him in. Impressive snatch grip. He flicked her clit and sent her bucking repeatedly, his right thumb slid over the button of his switchblade. His laughter erupted again. He kept fucking her through the orgasm, she was gorgeous at the moment of her death. Chucky timed the press of the button with a contraction, the blade busted out of her navel like a science fiction scene, stabbing her up and out from the inside. Marcy shot up and tried to crawl backward, the pain unbearable. She could feel it slice up her cervix, stabbing fire into her belly. He crawled quickly after her and kept stabbing, always starting the blade from her most sensitive area. His face was a mess.
Blood spattered up and all over her chest. Her tits looked amazing with the blood spray in this light. Chucky felt like he had to come, too. This was fucking majestic. He unbuttoned his overalls and started pleasuring himself, jacking off with the knife still embedded through her. Her blood was slick over his hand and cock. He laughed and squeezed harder as the blade ran out of virgin flesh to cut. He held the tip upright and pulled, ripping a gash from her belly button down. Staring at the gore and grip milking his dick, he felt himself getting close.
Marcy was screaming and clawing her way backwards, her abs were on fire and every move hurt so badly. She was crying, was she actually going to die? Her head spun as she tried desperately to roll off the bed and get away. She fell on her side, crying out in agony. No position relieved the misery; she didn't know if she could crawl, or, if the pain would force her to the fetal position. She lifted her wounded, raw belly off the carpet and tried to pull herself along without doing any more damage.
Chucky laughed diabolically as he ejaculated off the back of the bed, spurting onto her open wound, filling the crevices of her gaping belly and open intestines with milky excretion. She flinched away from his spray, covering her face. He finished off with a gratifying moan and hopped off the bed. "There, you feel better now that I've rearranged your guts? That's what the kids are calling it nowadays, right?" He stepped slowly toward her, his eyes, menacing. She was almost to the door, now, but that's as far as she would get. He tipped her chin up with the blade point, looking deeply into her face, delighted by her despair. "We may have just given that phrase a whole new meaning." He swiped the knife cleanly over her exposed throat. A fountain of red showered over his chest. His abusive, chaotic laughter distorted; a soothing darkness tunneled forth... her climactic ending.