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Message-ID: <41907asstr$1050624608@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Black_Visions@nospam.hotmail.com (Black_Visions)
NNTP-Posting-Date: Thu, 17 Apr 2003 18:01:27 +0000 (UTC)
Subject: {ASSM} Blacknesss by Black Visions (cons, bd, snuff)
Date: Thu, 17 Apr 2003 20:10:08 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Blackness
by Black Visions(c) <black_visions@hotmail.com>

        She came to me in my room. I had prepared myself for her, and she had 
prepared herself for me. Her white robe twisted open just slightly as she 
appeared in the door. Her long sensuous leg caught my eye, as it peeked 
through. This was to be our first time. Our show of love. Our connection to 
each other.

        I wanted to touch her as she came close, but the leather straps held 
me tight. She gave me a kind smile as she stood there, silhouetted by the 
light from the hall, like an angel.

        "Are you ready?" She leaned down whispering softly in my ear. I could 
only nod, my throat dry as the desert sand. Drawing the large knife from the 
table she began sheering away my clothes like tattered dead flesh. Slicing 
them away like my past and flinging them from me.

        Soon I was bare, naked flesh, before her. Her silvery conscience 
pressed lightly against my skin. With a gentle slide, a slow crimson line drew 
itself down my chest, chasing her elusive pencil. The hot burn, like a 
comforting touch, soothing away some of that jagged blackness consuming me.

        Carefully she nuzzled the cold steel against the base of my hard cock, 
letting it rest there, while she slipped the robe from her shoulders. Her form 
was so beautiful that tears came to my eyes; my angel, in all her beauty, 
before me. Pulling the blade from me, I felt it's warm bite against my manhood 
and gasped in surprise. Giggling she knelt beside the bed, and took me into 
her mouth. Sucking down my length, then pulling back: a streak of blood lining 
her lips. My lipstick just for her.

        I watched as the blade descended, ripping deep into the flesh of the 
bed beside me. The tearing echoing in my ears. Climbing onto me, sliding me 
barely into her, her warmth tickled me, as the steel blade wobbled impaled 
less than an inch from my side.

        Our eyes locked - like only lovers' can - and months of talking, weeks 
of being together, seconds since our first touch tore through that look. With 
a quick thrust, a subtle resistance, a cry of pain, her blood mingled with 
mine.

        I wanted to hold her, comfort her, but that's not what she wanted. She 
came here for me.

        Taking a breath she stared into my eyes and began to move. I could see 
her fire there. Leaning forward her lips embraced mine, her tongue invading 
me. Our saliva mixed, like our blood, lubricating each slow thrust. Using my 
own tongue I gently snuck into her warm mouth, but she just pulled away. 
Smiling, a wicked smile, she moved in for a kiss, but instead bit my lip till 
it bled. Snaking her tongue out, she took some of my life into herself.

        My passion began to rise, and I could tell she felt it too. Speeding 
her own pace, helping me along. Letting her long tresses of blond hair tickle 
across my chest, she left trails of sweat and blood. And as my orgasm started 
to rise, cresting, about to break inside her, she took the knife.

        I didn't see the blade move, but she had it in her hands there above 
me. The first convulsion hit me, and I squirted my hot cum into her. That's 
when the knife thrust came, its length suckled into my chest. Gouts of my life 
shooting from the open wound, as the crimson metal flashed back into the air. 
The second convulsion. I strained against my bonds as air fled me. My body 
wracked and confused: pushing deep into her, yet trying to flee her at the 
same moment. Then another geyser of red, more jagged, as metal and bone 
collided.

        Countless times I came. Countless times the blade burrowed deep into 
my bosom.

        Blackness started to rush in, as I watched her cry, my beautiful 
crimson angel. My angel of death. With the last of my strength I pulled breath 
into my collapsing lungs, blood filling my mouth as I coughed out, "I love 
you."

        My bloody words splattered across her. But I know she heard. Knew that 
I meant it. A last cough of blood, then nothing.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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