Stalk: The Keening

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There is a point of no return and I have just crossed the border. Having awkwardly succeeded in restraining my stalker, I am now left to ponder my options. There is a most delectable spread laid out before me, a buffet of flesh for me to run my taste buds over and a catalogue of options of where to take things from here. I have my subject bound tight and unable to retaliate, the whites of her eyes have no place to hide and I now have her full undivided attention. Her gown is gaping now, supplying the visceral vista I have craved since her perfume first tickled my delight. It has nostalgic properties, she wore the same scent on our last meeting and I recall my nasal passage cloying with delight as it seeped in and set my senses ablaze. She had succeeded in her intended deflowering that night, ripping free the last remaining threads of my stubborn refusals and replacing them with fear most stark.

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“You did a most resplendent thing that night Stalker…and I am here to return the favor” My prose spews out without as much as a flicker of emotion, despite the fact that every fiber is lit with fermenting indignation. There is a second sentiment and that is more intrinsic. Driven by my demon, this puny human Achilles heel is sending whirling waves of wantonness to my gargling monster and I feel almost obliged now to give audience to its petulant pleas.

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I lower my gaze momentarily from her hollering peepers and begin to sip from her full-flavored vessel. She is littered with the most exquisite tracks of prior trauma, scars on her lip, upper thigh and foot are visible from the front and I’m guessing I will locate others when I flip her…and I will flip her. Right now, she is exhibiting no signs of submission and this makes my ejaculate percolate wildly. It seems wasteful to restrain such passion so I reach across and slide my blade beneath the ties that bind her right arm.

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Within seconds her wrist is freed but only into the custody of my clenched fist. She is convulsing hysterically and I feel her robust rage against my seat which is rested against her chest as I straddle her. “You gifted me insight, made me look into the jaws of my own demon and accept its coarse tongue inside my eyeballs as it licked my skull. In the same moment you stole something away…something I cannot ever retrieve.”

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I tug open my shirt, buttons scattering as I do and reveal the blackened tattoo she left across my bared chest that night. CQ was crudely scrawled half an inch deep into my fleshed chain-mail. This had been her mark…her doing. I’ve felt her inside me every second since her blade kissed and told and this caused the most delicious contradiction as my inner darkness asphyxiated any light source, leaving me desecrated perpetually in the process. “You sip from my goblet habitually stalker…I wish to quench from yours”. I lean forward, until barely a frame away from her lips. “I shall taste you and take away my own trophy” My lips part ready to kiss as I cannot restrain this necessity any farther. She lunges at me, clamping her teeth into my bottom perimeter and instantly drawing crimson which glugs down my chin and into the carvings she previously fashioned on my torso.

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I retaliate, plunging my burly tongue into her unguarded orifice and into the back of her throat. Her gag reflex only serves to heighten the intensity of this kiss, and it appears she has submitted to her quim’s desire as she hungrily probes my fillings, forming a meshed pool of saliva which is held tight between our embrace. I pull back arrogantly and she seeks me the whole way, her back arching into me and rigid mammalia projecting forth.

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Our peepers are fixated with one another and I can hear the questions calling from behind her retinas. In a flash I am inside her…but my monster is still caged at this point. Within one elongated sip from within I breach her for the first time, retrieving her personal monologue and, for the first time, her frailties are exposed.

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I cannot believe I’ve been snared, so easily. How did he even know where to find me? I was very careful…when I snatched him that night, I was damned near anonymous. I left him no name, had my long shaggy hair rearranged, my make-up was heavy and completely unlike me.

Fuck. FUCK! He caught me at such a vulnerable time…I was not even dressed. There! Good, caught the motherfucker in the face with my knee. Oh…so much for that. His face had clouded over with a dark look that I didn’t think I wanted to interpret. His eyes were hot, a little fevered, as though something had taken over deep inside his belly and had spread through him.

As he wrapped the electrical wire around me, his breathing changed a little…his tongue would slip out and lick his teeth and lips and every now and again he would bare his teeth a little more. I didn’t know what to think or feel. I had the rage inside, bubbling. How fucking dare you tie me down like some common animal? How fucking dare you…

Then he pulled out a machete and parted my robe and inside I cringed. DON’T look at me you bastard…stop looking at my body…stop looking me over as though I’m some purchase you’ve been dying to acquire.

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I tried to move and succeeded a little, but could not close my legs, could not hide any part of me. The electrical wire bound me tightly enough that I could not change positions and I felt a sound escape my lips, one of anger and frustration. His gaze flew to my face, suddenly, and his lips curved upward, just a little. A look of satisfaction, coupled with something else…rage…electricity…

Oh, CQ…why did you hunt me down..? My intentions were pure. You were slipping into some dark apologetic world in your writing, and not into the original slick dark world you were destined for…I had to awaken you from the numbed slumber. I cut you and awakened you and now you are hell-bent on…..on what..?

I closed my eyes and turned my face away from him. I could still hear his ragged breathing.

For once in my adult life I had no idea what my future held.

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This fresh intelligence invites me to release her other wrist, which is bleeding profusely due to the ferocity in which she has been wrestling with freedom. She lets out a choleric hiss in my direction and instantly springs toward me bellowing obscenities along the lines of “you motherfucker”, I can’t be sure as I am too busy batting her back into the headboard with the handle of my machete.Clearly dazed, her body slackens some and I am afforded a few precious seconds to survey her flesh a little more closely. I had negated to observe her most substantial whitened tattoo, from one side of her abdomen to the other. It is the beautiful aftermath of childbirth and I feel, once more, that twinge of humanity.

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I may own a monster but am I a monster? What am I hoping to achieve here? Retribution or enlightenment…or both?I take advantage of her limber state to slide lower, onto the moist mattress between her thighs and I run my tongue along her injury, painting it with the crimson from my own tattered lip. Sweet, bitter, metallic and, in the same instance, sickeningly organic; her flavor delights my darkness sending shimmers of inked delight to the shaft of my monster. We have come too far for me to turn back now, whatever lesson I have planned needs to be concluded.

Read The Carving

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Sins as yet uncommitted,

Keeper of the Crimson Quill

First Knight of TOK
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Copyright: Crimson Quill: Savage Vault Enterprises 2014

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10 Comments

    1. The torture has not yet begun Sweetest. I fear that before the night is through much blood shall spill.

      Drink it in and spread wide those resplendent Crimson Wings xoxoxo

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