u/Zaphod8413

NOTE: This is a work of fiction. All characters are fictional. The story may contain elements of consensual and non-consensual sex, death, vore, and terror. Please read no farther if these subjects offend you.

Impulse Control

A story by Zaphod

 

It was quiet.  Still. The breeze that swirled past his face just thirty minutes ago had died completely and now the stillness was almost eerie.   He pressed back into the shadows, becoming part of the small niche that had welcomed him in the darkness. The hunger that had driven him to his hiding place had risen suddenly as was the usual case. Little warning, just a sudden flutter, like a squirming snake, winding it’s way up from the depths of his loins, up through his stomach, pushing past his organs and wrapping itself around his heart. He found it hard to breathe, this thing that controlled him. He had to hunt tonight. He had to go into the darkness and find the one thing that would bring him peace, bring him relief from the madness. He waited while the world brought him what he would need. A chance encounter with another person, who had no conception of what this night would bring them.

 

The young woman stepped off the bus, her slender ankle caught the streetlight as her small foot took her weight, protected by the expensive pump that wrapped itself around it. The sight arouses him. The thought of the thinnest of leather protecting the softness of her foot from the roughness of the concrete, just millimeters away, made his heart race.  He watched as she approached his hiding place. Slim. No more than five foot two.  A hundred, a hundred and five-pounds tops. She would offer him little resistance, this petite young creature that the night had delivered to him. He knew he was blessed, because why would this stunning figure be walking into his embrace if it wasn’t preordained? 

  Nikky wasn’t used to getting home this late from work. The sudden call from accounting had required her to stay for an emergency meeting. Now she was two hours later than she was used to, lucky to have caught the last bus on the run. The darkness was oppressive, the stillness unnerving.  The click of her heels sent out a staccato code, a message to something that might be waiting in the shadows.  She shivered slightly as she hurried down the sidewalk.  Only a block and a half to her apartment. She was being silly she thought. What were the odds that something had deliberately made her two hours late just to put her at this exact location where someone or something would be waiting for her.

  The arm caught Nikky off guard as it wrapped around her slim waist, lifting her off her feet and slinging her around to face the dark niche, causing her to squeal as she gasped for breath.  A large hand clamped over her mouth as she was pushed back into the small recess, then forced into the wall, the cold brickwork pressing against her breasts.

 “Shut up! Keep your mouth shut and you won’t get hurt!”

 The voice was low, gruff, menacing.  She couldn’t breathe, the hand pressed against her mouth, her lips. She could taste him, his hand. The web of his thumb had slid up, sealing her nose.  Panic shot through her body as she suddenly fought for all she was worth. Clawing at the hand that was sealing her mouth, her lungs, she needed air. Her legs kicked out, hitting the bricks in front of her, trying to climb up the wall in a series of staggering steps as her body tried to throw this man off of her, if just in order to breathe.  He pinched her nose as he slammed her small body from side to side, the warmth of her body intoxicating as it writhed against his growing member.

Then she went limp.

  

He stood in the doorway in the basement of the old warehouse, just fifty yards from the bus stop. It amazed him that the police had never thought to check it out. It seemed so obvious that four young women had disappeared from this area in the last six years, but no one knew about the old door, covered in vines and rust that led to this underground sanctuary. He didn’t think even the owners of the building knew about the space. Of course, he had many other spots, other safe locations to make use of. He knew enough to keep his activities mobile, never repeating the same location too often.

 His prize was sprawled on an old mattress thrown in the middle of the room; her soft breathing told him that she’d be out for a while. He could take his time.

First the buttons of her blouse were unfastened, not gently mind you but with a firm yank that sent the small pearlescent disks flying across the room. There were smudges of dirt on the front, where her breasts made contact with the dirty brick wall. He smiled, then lifted her limp body just high enough to pull the white material off her shoulders and out from under her. She moaned softly.  Her bra was next, spilling her firm breasts out on their confinement.  Small, but well formed. More than enough for what he had in mind. Her expensive Italian pumps were next. He loved the way the low-cut vamp exposed that small peek of toe cleavage. The flawless skin, the cords, the small veins just under the surface. They all were driving him crazy, telling him to hurry. He grabbed the shoes by their heels and pulled. They slipped off her lovely feet so smoothly. Her arch was perfect, the softness sublime, toes calling for him to kiss, to fondle. That would have to wait. He needed to hurry.

 His fingers found the zipper that ran down the side of her skirt.  Once undone, the tight material slid smoothly over the roundness of her hips and moved down her shapely legs and over her feet. Her thong panties were all that were left. He would wait for that. In a way he was sorry that she was unconscious. It would have been nice for her to participate in her unveiling.  It was always better when his prize gave up her modesty to his eyes willingly, even if it might not be her idea.

 He was a big man, six and a half feet of hardened muscle. 250 pounds of brute power. She would have little chance of stopping his advance, of resisting his actions. That was his advantage. She had already lost.

 Her eyes were open. He smiled at her as she tried to get her bearings. Reaching out to touch the side of her breast, smooth and soft. That was when she realized she was no longer dressed. He saw the scream climbing up in her throat and clamped his massive hand over her mouth.

 “No no…  Let’s not make any noise. It’s so peaceful here.”

 She grabbed at his hand, his wrist, but it was like iron. She knew she would never be able to budge it. There was a horrible sinking feeling deep in the pit of her stomach. There would be no resisting this monster of a man. The fear of what was to come overwhelmed her.

 “Oh God… No… Please…  Don’t do this… Please…” 

 She knew as the words left her lips that her pleadings might be just what he wants. She could be feeding his desire to continue his attack. It didn’t really matter, he was going to do what he wanted to do, what he needed to do.

 “I have some money in my purse.. I’ll do anything you want, just don’t hurt me…”

 He loved this part, where the small, helpless creature would bargain for its freedom. Her mind was trying to find something, anything that might plumb his intentions. The thought of rape was just starting to become a reality, not something she was looking forward to. For nineteen years she had been able to dodge the boys at school and the guys at college. She wasn’t a virgin by any means but she had never been forced into sex. Now this thing wanted to take her body as if it were just a simple treat, a cookie or a bowl of ice cream.

 He moved quickly, pinning her body to the mattress as he held her arms down with overpowering strength. His hands were rough, workers hands, a man’s hands. They grabbed at her breasts, squeezing and pinching, then moving them along her waist, pushing his thumbs into the muscles of her stomach, kneading them, pressing deeply into her body, instigating a strangely erotic feeling deep in her core.

 Nikky started to squirm under the onslaught, a hauntingly mournful cry raising up through her throat. His hand moved instantly from her waist to her neck, clamping down tightly, turning the cry into a gurgling rasp as her eyes shot open and hands jumped to the offending arm. Nikky tried to pull it free, but the hand would not move, only clamping tighter onto her tender neck. The room spun before her eyes as her full lips opened in a gasping attempt to pull in a small sip of air, but the only thing that passed through them were the small squeaks and gurgles that made this moment so special.   That was when she felt him enter her. The violation of her most private of places, that spot that she would never surrender to a stranger, was now being taken by force. She needed to reject him, her attacker, but there was that writhing serpent of promise that continued to build deep inside. She had to resist it, not to succumb to its insidious call. She couldn’t focus, her brain falling into the hypnotic lure of hypoxia.  His hand felt good, strong, in control of everything she was, everything she would ever be.

 His obsession, his passion danced under his body. She was perfect. His every desire was manifest in this woman and his body responded as expected. The erect tool with which he had impaled that perfection grew even larger as he approached his nirvana. He stopped for a moment mid-thrust as he felt the trigger fire, then the massive contractions began an eruption of hot, thick fluid, splattering deep into her tortured body. The speed of her reaction to his climax caught her by surprise, the rising euphoria, a betrayal of her fading will. 

 She felt the room slipping away as the aching call for air had dulled into an erotic need for fulfillment.  A sudden plunge into the swirling void.  Then it was dark.

 He was spent. His head fell forward, to lay on the mattress next to hers, his breathing quick as he tried to catch his breath, hers slow, soft, uneven. She felt so good, soft, warm. Her scent was intoxicating.  A mixture of perspiration and fear, of perfume and sex. He would leave her now, now that his urge was sated. She wouldn’t remember his face with the trauma of the rape. It had always worked out before.

 “Why did you stop?”

 Nikky looked over at him as he pushed himself back upright.

 “What the…?”

 He thought that she would be out for at least ten minutes or at least long enough for his escape.

 “Why didn’t you finish?”

 She was looking directly at him now. He really wished she hadn’t done that.

 “I am finished sweetheart; I got everything I needed.”

 She sat up slowly, one arm behind her for support.

 “You got what you wanted?  You raped me asshole. You took something you had no right to. Now you’re going to finish.”

 He moved back to his haunches, knees on either side of her legs.

 “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. You were a nice fuck, and I’m sorry about your blouse, but I’m not sorry about what I did to you. That’s why you were here, that’s what you’re for.”

 “Then finish what you started.  I can’t go home now, he’ll kill me. Nobody touches his woman. Now you’ve just signed my death warrant. He’ll do it with his fists; I’d rather you do it with your hands.”

 She leaned in closer, lifting her chin, exposing her throat, the slight blueish  bruising from their previous encounter beginning to bloom beneath her pale skin.

 She reached out and took his hand, examining his fingers and thumb.

 “You know, when you were choking me, when you were taking what wasn’t yours to take, I thought you were killing me. I thought I was going to die right there and…  I thought I was going to cum… Can you do that… for me? Just finish what you started.”

 He stared at her for a long moment, then gently reached out and took her neck in his hands.

It felt natural, like they were meant to be together.  His thumbs crossed over her larynx, finding those two delightful places where the pulse hid just below the surface. The place where he would end her.

 

He hadn’t intended on killing her, at least not here. Too messy, too difficult moving a dead body from this location. He liked this place, he liked its convenience, its location, its anonymity.  Now he would have to move her on his own, because she wouldn’t be able to help him after he was done.

 She leaned into him, into his hands, the pressure on her throat was intoxicating.

 “Do it. Do it now. One last time.”

 “Oh fuck it.” He thought and started to squeeze, his thumbs sinking into her softness, her warmth.  He watched her face closely as her eyes shot open… Was it surprise?… That this was really happening? Her hands went to his wrists, grabbing, holding on against the coming agony. Is this what she really wanted? This slow sensual death?  Who knew what was going through her mind but now it had started. She had seen his face, he’d deal with her body later.

 

Nikky held her grip as everything started to spin, the window, the door, the small light bulb that hung so high above her all went whirling around her as her heart leaped in her chest, her breasts dancing in time with the pounding pump. It felt as though she was falling, back and back, down… Her arms flew to the sides as she tried to catch herself, to stop the fall, her hands slapping down on the dirty mattress. Grabbing at anything.  Her head moved from side as her body tried to find a way to breathe. Each time it moved his thumbs sunk in a little deeper. Nikky may have accepted her death, but her body had not. It struggled to survive, to live a little longer, if just for a few more moments. Then the feeling started again, the betrayal of her body as that erotic tendril wound its way up from her gut, from that violated place that was no longer hers. Her hand dropped to her labia, her clitoris, pressing, rubbing, searching for that last orgasm, that last crushing climax that she so richly deserved.

 He watched as her eyes stared into his, pleading with him to stop? Or perhaps not to stop, to squeeze tighter, to bring her to a glorious end. It’s hard to read the mind of a dying woman.

 He watched as her hand worked her body softly, slowing as the hypoxia consumed her consciousness. Her other hand move to her breast, nipples hard and erect, slowly squeezing, shaking as her motor control began to fail. He could feel her heart beat, her pulse stuttering, slowly fading. She was shutting down. He slipped back into her, pushing past her fingers and filling her body with his erect member in order to share this moment. She would not die alone.

 A freight train of sensual pleasure slammed into the young body. A massive impact of euphoria and finality. Nikky fell away, into the darkness, experiencing the climax as if she were an observer, as if it were all happening to someone else. She felt disappointed, she felt cheated, she felt…    nothing…..

 

 He held her throat in his hands for a few minutes longer, just to be sure, then released his grip. A soft rattle escaped her lips, a slight blueish tint clashing with the pink lipstick. She was so beautiful, so perfect. He knew that it had been preordained. His desire and her arrival. Even her insistence on this finish had been more than he could have wished for.

 

 The suitcase was a nice fit. He wished that he didn’t have to fold her up into this container but it would be the easiest way to move her from the building.  Her supple body had been entertaining for the last few hours but he would have to pack her up before she started to stiffen. It didn’t seem fair that he had worked so hard to have this moment, only to have it slip away with rigor. By the time she finally relaxed again, she would no longer be desirable. He slipped her shoes into the bag and zipped it up. As much as he wanted to keep them, souvenirs had a way of coming back to bite you.

 

 The morning light was just warming the eastern sky as he loaded the suitcase into the back of his van. The bay was only three miles away and the morning tide would carry the cold cargo far out to sea.