Death’s New Pet: Love after Life

The agony is fucking blinding. It feels as though I am completely destroyed, on fire and drenched in ice at the same time. Every nerve snaps and rebuilds, and I can feel my skin peeling back from my body only to reform again. At the same time, the pleasure attacks me. His name falls out of my lips repeatedly and I desperately try to fight the overwhelming sensation forcing its way through my body. But it’s too late. My mortal soul explodes into a million pieces, never to reform again.

When the blinding light stops burning my eyes, I find myself back in the sorting room, on my knees. I immediately feel Death behind me. He leers over me, desperately scanning me as though I might break any second now.

His cold touch presses against my naked shoulder as if to give me strength. “Welcome to eternal death,” he gently helps me to my feet as his warm breath caresses my neck. He turns me around before his dark eyes begin bleeding. They roam down my body appreciatively and a groan slips from his lips.

“A blank canvas for me to ruin,” he growls under his breath, but I hear every word. It sends bolts of electricity through my body and just when I thought I couldn’t want him anymore, my body becomes alight again.

“I have a surprise for you, dead girl,” his hot breath caresses the skin on the back of my neck. I’m instantly alive to the sound of Death’s dark promise.

Without missing another beat, the room around us fades into nothing. The once dark crimson walls dripping with blood and gore transform into a dark, starless night. A sudden chill coupled with a gloomy cloud lurking around them pulls the new atmosphere and I stumble closer to Death absentmindedly.

“Look around, dead girl.”

Breathless, I stare around at what appears to be a graveyard, coated with a thick layer of smoke. If I stepped away from Death, I knew I would lose him in the grey cloud, but I could still make out little bits of rock sticking out of the uncut lawn, each with a scribbled inscription, screaming out the deceased person’s life. I feel it in my chest — all the lives claimed and snatched from the cemetery, leaving nothing but a wasteland for humans to mourn over.

“Gravestones?”

His hard fingers curve around my hips and he forcefully moves me a couple of metres into the graveyard.

“Your gravestone.”

The breath is snatched from my chest. “What?”

Without another word, he guides me further into the smoke until I feel it clogging up my lungs. Only when my legs feel as though they are going to give out does he forcefully stop me and make me look at a huge, towering gravestone.

This one is far different from the others. The grass has been cut, and the soil has been patted down neatly, starkly contrasting the untamed, uncared-for stones around us. The gravestone itself is blood red and has dark black cracks running through the marble, twisting and turning throughout. Some cracks sprout into the most beautifully deranged flowers I’ve ever seen, curling in at the name in the centre of the stone.

“Scarlet Mortal?” I feel sick as I speak the name out loud.

“Yes, because I was never going to let you take another man’s last name to the afterlife now, was I? It’s ‘til death do us part, and you are both dead, my pretty mortal. You’re mine now. And yet I wanted to be reminded of how perfectly mortal you were when I first ravaged you. My little mortal turned dead girl.”

“Death. How did you know my name—”

“This isn’t sentimental, dead girl,” his voice is suddenly harsh, full of grief and hatred. “This isn’t some wicked display of love and happiness. You still belong to the God of Death. I gave you a gravestone and a new last name as a display of ownership. You are my little pet. You do as you are told.”

My eyes slam shut as I lean up against his hard, cold body. Those viciously large arms snake around my neck and they force me close against him.

“So, listen carefully, Scarlet Mortal.” He scrapes his fangs against the sensitive part of my neck, awakening every inch of my body. “You will run and hide amongst these gravestones, and if I catch you, I will fuck you back to Hell where you belong as Death’s new pet.”

I’m completely and utterly speechless, but he doesn’t rely on consent. He never did, never will, and I will never ask that of him. Our bodies do all the talking when speech isn’t good enough.

“Got it?”

I nod frantically. Even though I can’t see him, I feel the way he smirks against my body. He squeezes me one last time and it hurts but I melt into the familiar pain. Then, he whispers against my cheek and the games begin.

“Run, dead girl. You can’t escape death.”

Without hesitation, I lurch forward and sprint like I’ve never sprinted before. The wicked fog only makes it harder to navigate as I bounce around the gravestones, desperately trying to hide. That odd, perverted part of me almost wants to make this easy for him. I want to run in circles and then lead him back to my gravestone, open my legs, and invite him in. And yet, reason, that stupid little voice, forces the fear through my veins, and the adrenaline forces me to run like I’m being hunted.

Because you are.

In the distance, I hear his low chuckle. It’s deep, throaty and promises so much torture. And my body couldn’t respond quicker.

My lungs heave and my legs ache as I throw myself left before narrowly dodging another gravestone. And then, suddenly, he appears in front of me. Just before I can collide with him, I take a sharp turn and dash away, but it’s not long before he appears again. I escape but I’m met with the same fate. Only this time, he loses interest in pretending I can run away from him. His hand shoots out and snakes around my waist. Before I can process what’s happening, he has me pressed against him, fangs sinking into my neck.

The pain pierces through me and I scream in pain as the bubbling sensation burns through my body. I feel it flood through me, again and again until my head is dizzy, and everything is heightened. Even my toes throb in agony as wave after wave I’m hit with torturous pain. Death doesn’t give a shit though; he keeps sucking at my blood as though it’s his lifeline.

“I will never stop doing this,” he growls. Then, suddenly, the overwhelming pain turns into incredible pleasure. An orgasm smashes through me before I can stop it. My knees buckle but he refuses to let me move from against his body. He keeps sucking until I’m scratching at his chest, whimpering from the aftermath of my high.

Another one hits me just as unexpectedly, but this time, his fingers plunge inside of me, and I’m forced to ride out the high. His huge cock presses against my slit and he forces me to grind against it. All the while, his beady eyes roam every inch of me, desperately soaking up every reaction my body has to give to him.

“That’s it, dead girl. Sin like a bad little mortal should,” he growls before plunging into me. A shriek falls past my lips as he fucks me in the cemetery, taking no mercy on me. He plunges harder and faster, his rough grip on my hips bruising my skin. I feel my tongue fall out of my mouth and he latches onto it. I feel drunk on his kiss as he consumes me. Everything is alight, the mix of pain and pleasure deliciously blending into one.

“Death—” I cry out as his fingers twist at my nipples. “Death, I’m going to—”

“Do it, cum all over my dead cock.”

Suddenly, the orgasm plunges through me for the third time in five minutes. I slump onto his chest, breathless and dizzy. He pulls his cock from my pussy and twists me around. Then, he plunges into my asshole, and it feels like I’m tearing in two. The pain is unbearable but the position he hits has me screaming in pleasure. A low growl erupts from him. It’s the most fucking delicious thing I’ve ever heard in my life.

“Take it, dead girl. Feel my hot cum fill up your dirty, dead womb.”

My eyes slam shut as the pleasure consumes me. He fucks me harder and faster until a grunt falls from his lips. I feel him tense up against me before ropes of hot liquid squirt into me. His erratic breathing echoes through my body and his thrusts become lazy.

His arms seem to tighten around me, forcing me still. I tell myself it’s because he’s not done fucking me. He hasn’t finished getting his pleasure out of his little pet, and yet, the way his head rests in the cross of my neck, and I feel his lips caress the softness of my skin, something has shifted.

It feels less like him using me as he comes down from his high, and more like a twisted embrace. The best possible hug a Being forged from sin and stained with death could possibly offer a little mortal like me. It’s not much. It’s awkward, the position hurts and I’m nauseous from my multiple orgasms, but I relish in the twisted pleasure only he can give to me.

“Death’s new pet,” he nips at the sensitive skin on my neck and a whimper slips from my lips. I feel the way his talons caress my soft skin, and it could easily be mistaken for some sort of affection. But, in reality, I know that he is carving light scratches into my skin from the slight burn.

Still inside of me, I feel his hard cock grow as he teases himself. My walls clamp around him deliciously. Then, he forces me back around, so my legs are wrapped around him, and he presses his huge erection against the entrance of my pussy. However, he doesn’t push forward.

“Do you feel what you do to the God of Death, little mortal?”

“Yes,” it’s little more than a whimper but with my lips parted, he consumes me in his kiss. Every inch of my skin, every thought in my mind, every memory stained into my soul… he steals everything from me and replaces it with unimaginable pleasure. A kiss of Death with the God of Death. I feel my body spark alive despite having just died.

For the first time, he smiles. Like actually fucking smiles. His lips tip up against mine, and I feel some sort of happiness seep from him in the most perverse way. I feel drunk on his sin.

“Mine to own for the rest of eternity.” He whispers. “Mine to torture. To please. To ruin. To kill over and over again.”