Dirty Little Secret Part 3

If he wants to scream, he can't. Not because of anything nefarious on my part, though I'll admit that I'd thought about it.

No, he can't scream because the kind of pain he's feeling steals the breath from your lungs and then gut punches you with it.

The kind of pain he's feeling as I hold him up, my nails digging crescents into his bare thighs deep enough to make him bleed, makes your eyes roll back as your brain struggles to comprehend it.

The kind of pain he's feeling as I slide slowly, so he feels everysingleinch of me, inside his virgin hole is the kind that makes your heart lose track of what it was doing before it kicks back into gear at warpspeed.

The kind of pain he's feeling as I sink to the hilt and smile down at him, shuddering at the tightness that grips me, moaning at the broken whimper that escapes him when my cock twitches deep inside him, is the kind that makes spider cracks in your mind that will never mend.

I wait until Franklin's eyes meet mine, until I feel his hands slap against my chest in a weak attempt to fight me off before I show him my true smile, my favorite smile. His slapping hands stutter before falling down to his sides again as he realizes there's no chance he'll succeed at escaping me. As he finally realizes that I'm a monster and he's merely human.

My unreasonable amount of teeth might have something to do with it but I can't say for certain. Not that it matters.

"Please..." He whispers, the word barely audible, spoken on a breath that doesn't really touch his lungs.

"Is that what your prey begged of you?" I ask conversationally, shifting my grip on his thighs, hauling him further up the brick wall, shifting him up and back down on my cock in the process -- it may not have been entirely accidental -- before I adopt a mockingly frightened tone, "Please, don't. Please, I'll do anything. Don't hurt me. Don't, don't, don't, please stop!" My voice rises in pitch with each word, each mocking plea, and I sneer at him when his cock hardens against his belly.

His eyes widen when he realizes I was mocking him, when he realizes he's hard with my cock buried in his unwilling body. His face flushes with embarrassment and I snort laughter at him.

"Does this turn you on, Franky boy? Hmm?" I purr sultrily at him as I rock my hips away and then slam back in, punching a shriek out of his throat. "Are you hard from me fucking your worthless little hole in some dirty back alley? Like the idea that I'ma make you into a snuff film without the film part?"

He's shaking his head, mouth opening and closing around soundless words. But my thrusts have started and with each burning drag on his overstretched and under-prepared rim, that pain increases. And with each spike, his brain short circuits in its attempts to protect the intelligence that powers it. But I'm touching his soul, I'm keeping him from sinking into detached oblivion, so every effort his brain makes to protect him will fail. Because I refuse to let him escape this lesson for it will follow him into eternity with me as the taskmaster.

"Go figure the "Lesbian Rapist" is a closet bottom," I snarl, pulling out and dropping him to his feet. Before he can register that I've let him go, I've spun him around and slammed him face first against the wall. The crack of his nose and jaw is loud in the stale air of the alley. He opens his mouth to speak but I'm already back inside him, fucking him with enough force that his face scrapes raw against the brick.

"Go figure you'd get off on this. Perhaps I should have brought you home first, hmm? Let you meet my folks, my kin. I doubt you'd find yourself able even think of cumming with all of us bearing down on you."

He scrambles for purchase against the wall, tries to brace himself against my pistoning hips, but he succeeds only in ripping his nails from his fingers. But the pain he feels as I do to him what he's done to too many innocents is enough that he doesn't notice anything else. Not my nails raking bloody welts down his back and over his hips. Not the way his still hard cock slaps against the brick, smearing precum and blood in its wake.

All he knows is the pinpoint pain in his ass and the agony in his mind as I continue talking.

"You won't survive this, Franky boy. This'll be the last fuck you ever have and when you cross the Veil? I'll be waiting. This is your eternity, human, and I am your every nightmare come to life."

I feel his body tightening with impending release, the only response his body can think of to save his psyche and I grin wickedly. Just as he tenses, head thrown back, I pull out and the snap his neck.

I watch with thinly concealed disgust as his lifeless body drops in a crumpled heap on the alley floor. With a huff, I tuck my cock back in my slacks and collect my coat from the stack of boxes.

"You'll get pleasure when you ask for it properly," I mutter to the corpse of my newest plaything as I swing my coat on and settle it with a roll of my shoulders. "Not one second before."

As I step out of the alley I turn and disappear among the crowds in search of my next prey.

See you soon, Franky boy.