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Killer Queen (M: S & V)


Echo

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He hadn’t even touched her when she was already shivering before him – so afraid that he would hurt her. Did she still think she had a choice? Why did she think a man like Marcus would come here? Just to fuck? He could do that with Aculia or Germanus or any of his other slaves. But they were his and he couldn’t afford to buy new slaves all the time. So he came here, because here he could do as he pleased, as long as the girl would still function tomorrow. Titus would prefer that she could still perform her duty as a whore, after all.

Marcus had then touched her body while he made up his mind and finally decide to carve a slit into her right breast, in the soft part of it above the nipple. He told her to stay still, a kindness really, because she could just struggle and make it worse for herself. But now she knew not to. And she closed her eyes and he noticed how she bit back a scream and her entire body tensed, while the blade penetrated her skin and produced wonderful, crimson blood. It ran over her pale skin, over the curve of her breast and it trailed down over her side and he looked at it, almost as if he was paralyzed by the sight.

Her words woke him up, as she begged him to not cut her again. It almost made him want to do exactly that, because there was no way she could order him what to do.

“Why shouldn’t I?” He asked in almost a whisper, “It’s my right. It’s what I pay for.” He added in the same voice, but decided against it. Another time maybe, because Marcus did feel how he’d grown hard by his action and he placed himself closer against her, covered her body with his and entered her without another word uttered. He knew that their intimacy would place his chest against hers and her blood would be upon his body. That thought was just as captivating as cutting her had been. Marcus wasn’t a romantic lover though, not slow and gentle. He would have her now. And he wouldn’t stop until he gained the release he had also come for.

@Echo

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For a moment, all Deia could think of was the sting of the wound he had given her, a wound that would turn into a scar soon, marking her forever. She could never leave this man behind when his mark would forever be on her. But after a little while, the stinging subsided to a manageable pain, enough so that she could focus on him whispering above her, saying that it was his right to cut her again because he paid to do it. It was really a helpless plea and she knew it. But what else could a woman fearing death say? 

But she hadn't died and the pain wasn't unbearable. And then came the part that she knew was coming: he entered her swiftly, with no warning and no preamble. This she understood, like she had understood his hands tracing her curves a moment before. She was a little dazed from the rush of emotions she had experienced the minute before, so she barely reacted to his action past a soft grunt at the initial entry. And she didn't move much, letting him do with her what he wanted to do, though she did turn her head to the side again. At least the cutting was over. 

@Atrice

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She was there for his pleasure and that alone. No matter what his pleasure was. That's why he had come to the Elysium to begin with and that's what kept him coming back. These girls knew that all kinds of people came here and that their master would have them do as told, or do something worse to them if they refused. Marcus thought he wouldn't mind helping Titus out, if some of the whores here became too impossible to tame. It wouldn't be the first time he slit someone's throat, stabbed someone, let them bleed to death. But he wouldn't do that to this girl. She had behaved and she had barely struggled when he cut her and now he was taking full advantage of her body after telling her, that it was his right to do as he pleased with her. 

Now it wasn't his knife that had entered her, now it was Marcus himself and she let out a soft sound when he did it - but otherwise she just lay still, let him get done what needed to get done. She turned her head to the side to not look at him but he didn't care. For now, she was just a body, offering release for his body as her blood had offered some kind of release and satisfaction for his mind. At last he was done with a few loud grunts and rested on top of her, feeling the stickiness of the slowly drying blood between them. He still had his one hand wrapped around the handle of the knife. When he'd caught his breath again, he pulled out and sat up on his knees again, looking down upon her as before. He thought that if she didn't care to look at him when he fucked her, he might fuck her from behind next time. It hadn't been so bad, fucking this one. Or cutting her. Not bad at all.

But he was now staring at the wound again and tilted his head, curious; "I may do this again some other time." He just wanted to see her reaction.

@Echo

Edited by Atrice
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As Deia came out of her daze, she realized the knife was still in his hand while he was on top of her, doing his business. She was still a little out of breath as he finished and lay on top of her, her blood sticking their skin together in some strange pagan way. But after a moment he returned to his earlier position on his knees with the knife in his curled fist, looking at the wound he had inflicted which was still stinging a little. She would have to go and see Gaia after he left so she could get it looked at. She hoped she wouldn't need stitches. 

She heard his voice again and held her breath again, unwittingly. He was saying he might do this again and she fixed him with her stare, eyes still a bit glazed over. Why should she have any opinion about this statement? He was going to do it whether she like it or not, and if he was going to do it again, it was because he had liked her performance. Even though she had been as far from acting as she possibly could have been. Finally she shrugged. "As you wish, dominus." She was tired now. Too tired to care. 

@Atrice

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This girl was not the worst he had here, he decided. And she was new, so she hadn't known him, which made it all more interesting. Now she did know and he sat there, staring at her body and the wound he created on her. His own work of art. And he felt satisfied, because he had not only cut her and made her bleed, he had also fucked her afterwards. She had only failed him a few times and he wondered what she would do next time he came here and demanded her time. She could avoid him the best she could, like the other girls, but he might wait for her, because it would be interesting. She had begged and pleaded with him, thinking she could influence him. Now she knew she could not.

When he said he would do it again, she looked at him, met his eyes with her own. Her eyes were still watery from the crying, but at least she hadn't sobbed loudly. That would have annoyed him too. She then replied and he nodded with a smile. As he wished. Then he moved away from her and picked up a random piece of cloth to wipe the knife with, before he placed it back into the purse. Only then did he dress again and from his purse he fished a few coins to pay for her time and the use of her body. He placed them next to the bed and gave her one last look. The wound had yet to heal, it wasn't that long ago since he cut her. He almost wanted to touch it, but he felt the drying blood from her on his own body, underneath his clothes now.

"Do you have a name, whore?" Just in case he would have her when he came back and there was a good chance he would.

@Echo

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Deia watched dispassionately as he stood up, cleaning his blade. She only hoped that his passion for blood and blades extended only to people he paid and that his knife wouldn't be buried in some hapless passerby who looked at him wrong. But one could never know what a man like him was going to do. She followed him with her eyes as he gathered a few coins for payment and put them on the bedside table, then turned to look at her and ask her if she had a name. 

Her name didn't matter. In the free people of Rome, names were like signals to others, telling them social class, wealth, connections. But to a slave, a name was like a tracking device, particularly with someone with a unique name like Deia's. And Marcus would certainly use it to track her down at the Elysium next time he wanted to cut her and fuck her, no matter how hard she would try to escape that. "Deianira," she said finally, her voice flat and emotionless. 

@Atrice Wrap?

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