Agape in Horror (M/F knifeplay, murderfuck)

Her mouth was agape in horror and deranged pleasure, her supple lips shining with crimson, the darkest hue of lipstick, her shuddering lines of flesh, warbling to the horror she was experiencing, her voice strained to bleakness- you could hear her giving into the reality she was experiencing, as I twisted the blade in her gut, and fucked her gut raw with the piercing blade. She spit hot blood in my face, and her iron stained the air, and I drank her in, every twitch and shudder, every cry as it became more gargled, more pathetic, closer to an animal of prey crying out into the darkness, caught in the vicious, vigorous jaws of a desperate predator.

I hauled the blade out harshly, spattering her blood all over the trash and grimy alleyway walls, as unclean as her trembling soul, as vibrant as her personality as it shivered from intoxicating agony to delirious despair.

She fell within herself, the pain halting all movement, twitches running through her body as if an oncoming seizure was going to wrack her brain to oblivion. Blood drooled profusely from her lips, adding to the pool that was formed where her cunt met the trash, her thighs coated in grime and her sweat and blood, the oil of desperation.

She shot me with her eyes, dark orbs in the half light. She wasn't there any longer, her body was moving to a blindness, the emptiness of simple impulses driven to an edge of extinction. The night air surely felt like it was going to imprint on her the cruelty of nature, the caresses of nonexistence. I took in her ghastly visage, a statue of Death herself, paleness steeling over her flesh that hours before, was hotly throbbing with life itself, lost in an exuberance of youth. So powerless she was, I saw the light leave her eyes, her brain blind itself, for the horror was too shocking for her malformed self. If she imagined herself, all she could imagine was a form twisting to the will of another, at least that's what I dreamed watching her body, throbbing, shaking, shivering in a delirium, a drug-less high, as endorphins and neurotransmitters shot randomly through her flesh, trying to save a now worthless body. I watched her and dreamed what her brain felt, her organ of self under the throes of waves of annihilation. Her flesh fading into the sweetness of forgetting. A soft, almost unnoticeable tremble went over her lips, a soundless sigh made her roll her head back, as if a ghost were raiding her mind, moving her life towards oblivion, with the puppet like motions of a pornstar fake orgasming, the bacchanal yells of a withdrawn woman, her soul vibrating in a lifeless realm.

Her white dress shirt torn and stained red, her work outfit recently bought for her nice, cozy office job, ripped and pulverized like yesterday's trash, like the garbage that surrounded her, what she would soon melt into, belong to, become one with. The rejected aspects of existence turned like jaws to her, and I could see the darkness of it in eyes.