A Lesser Race

"Oh fuck," he said, breathlessly, lying back so that she could take control.

Next, she went down and pulled his pants and underwear away just enough for his cock to be released, and she waited not one second before clutching it in one hand and looking up at him with a devious grin and stroking it. He stared down at her, a pleading look in his eye as she worked the soft, warm head of his cock with her thumb. Perhaps he saw it by then, or maybe he was too lost in pleasure to notice it, but her eyes were aglow again, and her pupils had expanded from narrow slits to full circles.

It only took a few moments for her to get what she wanted. Her thumb swirled around the hole in his cock, sensual and teasing and utterly unsatisfying, and yet strangely alluring. He whined and rolled his eyes back, and somehow he shot a hot spew of cum just from that basic stimulation. A few more spurts satisfied him and left him oozing in her hand. He groaned and lay back, dazed and probably frustrated at having cum with almost no pleasure at all.

Then she closed her warm lips against the head of his dick. A shiver ran through his body, and he got up on his elbows. She took her hand away and only sucked the head, looking up at him as she repeatedly let her lips come away with a wet, loud popping sound that made him wince. Then she went down a little further on his cock once, came back up and made her lips pop. Again, she went down just a tiny bit further, recovering with a smacking release of her lips. And then finally, on the third try and she went down so far that she was pressing the tip of her nose against his crotch. His whole body seized up and he came immediately, and by then she was deepthroating him so mercilessly that he was digging his fingers into the dirt.

He must have known at that point. He must have realized his doom. She never ever took her eyes off his, so he must have seen the difference in them. Something demonic, in a more real sense than any story could prepare you for, a placid admission of evil intent through a mere gaze. No diabolical speeches or radical transformations into vile creatures; just a heartless glare, like that of a killer not when he is about to plunge his knife within your heart, but immediately after. The empty satisfaction of claiming another victim. She wore that look as she pleasured him.

There was barely anything left then, but she still gagged loudly on his cock, tearing up with reddening eyes and drooling with spit and flem and his gushing cum. He whimpered pathetically, unable to stop her, and she tasted his delicious seed with no intent to stop anytime soon. This went on for nearly an hour, or perhaps longer; she had no way of knowing. She sucked on his shaft, and he burst while her lips played against his flesh, and she wiped his mess off her face and licked her fingers clean and then sucked from him another virulent load, as potent and hot and thick as if he had not cum in over a month. She punished him this way, not out of hatred or anything so mundane.

When she grew bored of this, she got rid of her panties and mounted him. He was so overwhelmed that of course he was emptying himself into her cunt the moment she sat down all the way on him, and he was buried to the hilt. She closed her eyes and reveled in this filthy pleasure, feeling his gushing cock pour forth. He was trying to beg her to stop, but she was clenching and releasing on his cock, and he was so sensitive that he tensed up all over when she did, and he could hardly speak.

She smiled and brushed her hair back behind her ear and leaned down to kiss his lips, and then she went to work. She fucked him until she came, collapsing against him and clenching and releasing on his cock so hard that he curled up against her and grunted like a dying beast. After a few instances of this torture, she felt his cum and her juices pooling underneath her, but she didn't mind.

Her cunt was extremely warm, and it quivered against his cock, which all made him lay there in a perpetual state of pre-orgasmic bliss, eyes rolled back and mouth open, until she fell upon him and he once more made a mess of her infertile womb, as if he hoped to defy nature and make her a mother.

When she was finally done with him, he was little more than a lifeless fucktoy whose batteries had totally run out. She lay against him, teasing his cheek with her fingertip and kissing his lips with her own, sending electrifying pleasure across the whole of his flesh. His eyes were not open, and he did not stir.

"You have defiled yourself," she whispered. "You made a woman of a beast." She kissed him once more. "And now you forfeit your life, all and entire." With that, she cupped one hand against his cheek and the other against the back of his head, and she kissed him deeply, humming against his lips at the flavor which filled her mouth. It was rich and creamy and so intensely sweet that the back of her tongue tingled, and she was exhaling heavily through her nose, pushing puffs of white air out of her nostrils.

He convulsed violently and shivered and made useless choking noising as she killed him. She pulled away from him when she was done, and she blew out of her mouth, and the white cloud of his broken down spirit dissipated in the air like cigarette smoke.

"Holy shit," she whispered, her mind buzzing. She had literally sucked from him his very soul, and it filled her mind with beautiful, dancing thoughts about how peaceful the world was, and how gorgeous mother nature was, and how strange it was just to be alive. She climbed off of the dead man and crawled away in the dirt and lay there, wondering if he thought it was worth it in the end. Did he enjoy his death? Did she fulfill his dreams?

She wondered, next, about her dear little sister, who was no doubt out there in the same blissful high, having murdered some other helpless fool who could not keep his cock between his own legs.

TO BE CONTINUED (maybe)