restraint 04

“So fight!” I demand, voice rising stridently. “This is your one chance! Free yourself or die within the next hour—and wish it long before that!”

Oh God, this is what I was doing. She comes alive beneath you. The vibrator kicks up to max gear and turns your legs to jelly. Her whole body writhes beneath you like she’s already eaten like she’s already inside and she tries to bring her chin to her chest but you’re there your fangs are right there and you’re so hungry and—

— She freezes completely. Her terrified heart gushes a hot offering to your mouth and you swallow it by reflex. Shock at having transgressed is dwarfed by joy as she slides down your throat, thick as syrup, raw as meat. Your fangs feel so natural buried in her flesh.

As you swallow the third mouthful of her blood, you wonder: what happens next?

The answer surprises us both.

She’s wrapped in your fat. Her stillness after you bite feels like your stillness. Even as her life surges down your throat in great swallows you find my words ringing in your head.

“Raven… are you okay?”

It’s hard to shake your head when your teeth are fixed in flesh, but your tiny shake speaks louder than a shout to me. Still your mandible works, gulping down another hot crimson bolt. And another. Until finally you muster the self-control to thrust your tongue against the wound and mould together torn skin.

The small chest beneath yours begins to shake as the girl weeps silently. Tears have formed in your eyes, too. I’ve seen that expression before. Not often.

“Um, y— yellow,” you murmur.

I immediately release the tension on the buttrope and fumble with the remote. The previously-pleasurable vibration fades to nothing. Its final little kick makes your pussy twitch regretfully.

My face looks tight and concerned. “What’s the matter, Raven?” The hand that was stroking through your hair rests lightly in the waves.

When you speak your teeth shine red. “What you said made me… I don’t know. I feel guilty.”

Your averted eyes flicker to my face and so see the whole rainbow of expressions that cross it. Concern is followed by surprise, which segues into understanding. The way my lips parted makes you think I’m about to utter something meant to be comforting like “we’re all your prey anyway” or something. But before you can stop me I stop myself.

“I don’t understand,” I say, slowly and carefully. The hand nestled in your curls finishes its frozen caress down the length of your hair. While I complete the loving gesture the girl beneath you continues to cry. She is so hopped up on adrenaline that it’s not even clear she’s realised you’ve stopped drinking her. “I’d like to. Eventually. But right now: Do you want to stop?”

“It’s stupid, though. I mean, I’ve got to eat her. She’s a liability now. May as well go on.”

“Mm.” You’re in no hurry to reopen the wound. I clearly go through another couple of rounds of wanting to convince you: to feed you this young woman, body and soul. Instead: “it’s your choice, y’know. You could let her go.”

You stare at me. Dark eyes swirling with red meet brown with a hint of gold.

“I’m serious.”

“I’d need to disappear again.”

“I’d come with you.”

“Don’t be silly.” You push yourself up on your arms. The sobbing trails off as Lily becomes aware something new is happening. “Your whole life is here.”

“My whole life,” I begin, taking your face in my hands and giving you a smile bordering on the beatific, “is yours. Has been ever since I fell ill after speaking to you for the first time on that train platform.”

You eye me suspiciously and push yourself into a kneel. Your glorious body dwarfs the terrified girl beneath you. “You’d resent me.”

My answer to that is a single bark of laughter: “Hah!” I clearly consider that to be sufficient.

You look from me to her. “Do you want to live?” She nods rapidly to the nearly rhetorical question. Your stomach chooses this moment to inform you, with a wet gurgle that goes on for far too long, that if has received your partial payment and looks forward to a further delivery to satisfy the ache it is causing you beneath your ribs.

Wordlessly you swing your leg back over her. She is free, next to you on the bed. As she shuffles hurriedly seat l away from you I make a gesture towards her with a pair of safety scissors. She cowers back, so I lower them unused.

“You’d really give up everything?”

We watch her rock herself off the bed, arms still tied painfully behind her back. She stares now at the door like a lifeboat, and is probably unaware that she’s making desperate gibbering noises. Both feet hit the ground and she kicks herself upright.

“I’d do anything for you. Absolutely anything.”

Ten paces. That’s all it’ll take for her to slam against the door. I’ll have to open it for her, but she’s taken three paces already, with legs made of rubber bands.

“Okay, then.”