The Dawn of Darkness (Part 11)

I closed my eyes and let my chin fall to my chest. I could feel myself on the edge of tears. It felt as if my brain was going to explode out of my skull. The images that were coming to me were too much to bear. None of them made any sense. Picturing myself as a female? Seeing my own face staring back at me? It didn't add up, no matter what equation you tried to apply.

She was standing now, very close to me. I couldn't do anything but to stare at her feet. She ground her toes into the carpet. They spoke volumes in that simple motion. She wasn't sure whether to approach me in sympathy or fear. I wouldn't have known what to do in her position either. This man who had formerly controlled her desires was losing it before her eyes. It was a sense of fear that drew her to me. In this moment of uncertainty, not knowing who I was or what was happening to me, she was filled with exhilaration. For she was very afraid of me now, I knew that much for sure.

Her hands cupped my face. She wiggled underneath me, putting her face in my downcast view. Those eyes of hers whispered to me. They still held their air of adoration. She remained under my power. She was becoming even more bound to me. Her female sensibilities wanted to help me, save me, nurture me. I decided to allow her to do so.

I wrapped my arms around her naked body and pulled her in tight, squeezing every inch of her against me. Her body melted into mine. I could feel her heart beating against my chest, racing. My own kept up a similar tempo. What would it be like to let her in? To let her have a certain degree of power over me? I was curious to figure it out.

She led me into the living room and guided me to the recliner, then retreated to the kitchen and began to cook us some food. I sat in still silence and listened to the sounds coming from the other room. Soon I was greeted with inviting smells. It wasn't long before she was finished making us our meal. She returned to where I rested, took me by the hand and brought me into the dining room. There were two plates on the table. She speared a bite of food and held it to my mouth. I opened up and took it in.

She fed me a couple more bites and then I began to return the favor, picking up the other fork and feeding her food from the other plate. We ate in total silence, chewing slowly, swallowing with some effort. There was a mystery that hung in the air. We were relishing it. Neither of us knew what would happen in the future. Hell, neither of us knew what would happen in the next five minutes.

Our food finished, we brought our plates into the kitchen and worked as a team to wash them. It was an uncomplicated act of domesticity, and it comforted me. Things were beginning to feel as normal as they could under the circumstances. It was early on a Saturday night. Normal people did things like this on a Saturday night. Perhaps not in the nude, but it was the most routine act that had gone on between us in weeks.

We stood still when we were finished and looked each other up and down. Neither seemed eager to suggest the next possible move. Both of us were drained from the physical nature of our recent bonding, and I doubted that we were going to throwing each other to the floor and going at it again. But when all you have is fucking and you're in need of a break from the fucking, then what happens next?

Finally she spoke. "Maybe we could go for a walk?" It sounded as good of an idea as any, so I nodded and we went back to the bedroom to put on some clothes. Ten minutes later, we were strolling out the door, hand in hand.

To the casual observer, I'm sure we looked like nothing more than a couple of lovers, but that was a false feeling to us. Her hand cradled in mine felt heavy and unwieldy, as if I were held a brick in my palm. She seemed equally disturbed by the gesture and her fingers fidgeted in my grasp.

We walked down the street that the house was on and turned onto the next one. There was a man walking a dog, some hulking mass of brown fur. I flinched and pulled her into me. I did not care for dogs. The beast eyed me apprehensively as we passed, but stayed silent. Its owner nodded slightly in our direction. I glanced over my shoulder to watch the master and pet move in the opposite direction. The dog was looking back at me. Its eyes glowered and its upper lip quivered. I forced her to hasten our pace.

Toward the end of the block was a house painted in a soft yellow color. It had white shutters in the windows which were partially cracked open. We could see a family of five sitting around the dining room table, passing dishes between members and starting to eat their meal. There was the prerequisite mother and father figure as well as two teenaged sons and a daughter about 12 years of age.

I stopped in my tracks. I was glued to the sight of this family in the middle of their nightly routine. They were talking amongst themselves, and it appeared that the older of the two boys was telling a story. Soon all of the participants at the table had burst into laughter. The young girl was wearing her hair in a ponytail and it swayed back and forth when she dropped her head back, laughing. I was captivated by the sight of it.

There was a tugging at my arm and I realized that it was her. She was urging me to continue walking. "We should head back. There's a lot of studying that we've been putting off," I said and turned us back in the direction of the house.

For the remainder of the evening we studied. She sat on the floor while I stood and paced back and forth over the carpet, throwing out questions without even looking in the book. She was getting a good deal of them wrong. I didn't feel the motivation to reprimand her. The look on her face indicated that she would have enjoyed that. My mind was elsewhere, and she knew it.

I was waiting for the next set of flashbacks to come to me. Waiting. Wanting. Impatient.

I asked her another question and she gave an answer so ridiculously idiotic that there was no way that I could ignore it.

"Are you serious?" I asked, incredulous.

The tiniest of curls at the corner of her mouth appeared. It spoke very clearly. Finally. She nodded. "That isn't the answer?" She batted her eyelashes at me.

"No," I responded sternly. "You've been fucking up all night. Where's your head at?"

She shrugged. Her hand swirled around on the carpet and her gaze watched it. "I don't know. I guess I'm just having a rough night."

"You're having a rough night?" I grabbed her at the elbow and jerked her to her feet. "You don't know what rough is."

She cast her eyes downward. "Something else I need to learn, I guess."

"You guess? No. It's something that you are going to know. Something that you are going to learn very quick. Stay here." I went into the kitchen and pulled the large butcher's knife from the wooden block where it was encased. I went back to her. She was staring at me with eyes wide open. The fear was back. Not the mock kind. Not the fun, playful, master and servant kind. She was genuinely scared. Blood rushed to my cock.

"Wha...?" She got half of the word out before I was in front of her, slicing open the shirt she was wearing. It fell off of her shoulder to the ground. Gooseflesh crawled over her flesh. She flinched and took a small step backward. I grabbed her wrist and drew her into me. Her breasts pressed against my chest, spreading out over me. She was radiating heat. I lifted the blade up and it glinted in the light. She drew her breath in sharply and held it.

I turned it back and forth between our faces. With every turn, I could see her panic grow. Flat blade, turn. Blade edge, two stricken eyes staring at me. Flat. Turn. Edge. Turn. Flat. Turn. Edge. Turn. Eyes wider. Wider. Wider still.

I brought my arm around her back and slid the tip of the knife down her spine cord. She clung closer to me. When I felt it connect with the waist of her skirt, I whipped her around and sawed through the material. The mutilated skirt fell to the floor. She heaved a deep sigh.

I asked her another question from the text, talking into the back of her neck. She answered correctly. I kissed the side of her neck. Wrapped my free arm around her waist and swayed with her in my embrace, a slow dance. Another question. A wrong answer. I raised the knife up the her face. She trembled in my grasp. I continued to sway with her. I buried my face in her shoulder. I repeated the question. This time I garnered a correct answer.

The questions continued and the correct answers followed. I closed my eyes and rocked her body side to side in my perverted possession. I rolled my wrist back and forth, waving the blade around in front of her. She was shivering. I brought it near her stomach. Her body went limp against me.

"Please...." Her voice was shaking. It woke me from the trance-like state that I had fallen into. I brought my arm up and saw the knife in my hand in a different light. My fingers fell open and it dropped with a thump to the floor.

She turned and faced me. The blood had drained from her face and there were tears rimming her eyes. "Tell me something." Her voice was stern. "Tell me that you would never really hurt me. Tell me that you would never hurt me..." A pause. Contemplation over the right word to use. "like that."

The word was tinged with layered meaning. I knew what she meant. I brought one of my hands to my stomach and rubbed at it softly. She watched me. I nodded weakly, but she understood.

"I really liked earlier," my voice was hovering in my throat. "I liked when we were in bed. When we were just.... just... you know." She nodded.

"When we were just making love like anyone else?" The question was soft.

"Yeah..." I let my voice trail off. "Yeah. We could try that. We could try that." I was vaguely aware that I was repeating myself. "That would be good."

She took me by the hand and we moved to the bedroom. My erection was still present. She lay me down on the bed and mounted me, fucking me to her orgasm.

I couldn't cum. She thought it was delightful, fucking me harder and harder, with gradually increasing intensity. She came over and over again, her pussy flowing down over me. I closed my eyes and floated out of my body. I escaped myself. I never came. My dick stayed hard for about an hour of her delightful punishment. She rolled contentedly off of me and soon was asleep.

I lay there in the dark, unable to close my eyes. I could feel them approaching. The images. The memories. I was bathed in terror. I'd lost track of the amount of time that passed by the time I finally succumbed to sleep.