93 - Hyde

Asenath picked up one of the few remaining candles. Her white dress reflected the light a little, as she held it close to her stomach. It made her lower face seem to glow, but her eyes looked like glimmers in the darkness.

"Desire can make monsters of us all. Let me tell you about a woman I knew. I call this story...

HYDE

Jim Adams was a nice guy. Tall, dark hair and laughing eyes, a ready smile and an almost perpetual five o'clock shadow. Art school had led to a career in marketing, keeping his hand in on the creative side of things through self-publishing children's books. He liked long walks through old graveyards and making his own spaghetti sauce from scratch using heritage tomatoes he'd inherited from his grandmother. Even his dick was a little girthier than normal, just that extra bit that would make a woman squeal.

"...but I can't get off with him," Lizzy explained. "He wants to make love, I want to be slam-fucked. I want him to **** me. Ever since the accident, I just can't...I need something more intense to really cum with him."

The accident, Janine knew, was when Lizzy had been walking along a split-rail fence like a balance beam and missed her mark. The fence rail had torn her clitoris nearly in half. It had made her best friend's sex life complicated. Lovey-dovey lovemaking wasn't enough to make her climax.

Janine nodded as she checked the readout on the sensor. Lizzy watched her carefully. There had been times she had caught Janine using. Getting high off her own supply. It was a perpetual temptation with **** dealers, and a classic problem. So far, Lizzy thought she'd kept Janine from doing too much, if only by getting her friend to promise to never do any **** unless Lizzy herself were there.

"Well," she told Lizzy. "I might have something for you."

Janine wasn't just Lizzy's best friend; she was her dealer. A PhD in chemistry, a home lab paid for with meth, cocaine, ecstasy, LSD, whatever kept the money flowing in. She handed Lizzy a small vial of green liquid.

"Something I've been working on," Janine said. "Old formula, new twist. You know how they say cocaine intensifies your personality? This enhances...aspects of it."

Date night. A glass of wine. Lizzy had poured it before he got in. Her heart hammered as she watched him sip the drink. It was a Netflix and chill night. Bram Stoker's Dracula. They settled on the couch, her hand on his thigh. She always had to make the first move, but she needed to give the **** time to have its effect.

Her heart hammered in the darkened room as they watched the movie. Gary Oldman's presence magnetic; Winona Ryder's wide eyes and pale face strangely ****. Lizzy's hand stroked his thigh. Something stirred there. She smiled, teased. Fingers against the bulge as it slowly grew. Heard Jim's breathing shift. Slow, deep breaths. A soft growl in his chest. She bit her lip, thighs rubbing together.

He was almost perfect. Just needed a little push...

A smell, weirdly animal, filled the room. Lizzy's gut suddenly knotted with a bizarre and unnatural sense of fear. The cock was unbelievably hard now, straining against the fabric of Jim's pants. Without looking at him, Lizzy's hand slid up his pants to the button, the zipper. Brain alive with images of herself impaled on that hard cock, his big hands roughly moving her up and down like a sex toy.

She grinned, glad she had gone without panties tonight. Lizzy lifted her ass up, raised her skirt to her hips. Quivering with need, hoping Jim would last. With her cunt exposed, she reached to pull the cock out of his pants.

Jim sat rigid, that low hum of a growl coming from his chest, his breathing heavier, almost a pant. Lizzy was almost panting herself as the cock popped free, bigger and harder than she ever remembered it being. Her boyfriend didn't even move as, her eyes still locked on the screen, she lifted herself up and navigated the tip of that prick to her hot box.

Just penetration would never get her off. Rubbing her mutilated clit wouldn't help much. But if Jim could play with her a little...really fucking ram it into her, hard enough to make her cum...she slid down onto his member and gave a little groan as that extra bit of thickness filled her out. Gave her deepest, sexiest groan as she balanced for a moment on his balls, then leaned her head back to nuzzle his cheek as Dracula, in wolf-man form, mounted Lucy Westenra.

Her mistake was to open her eyes.

Then she screamed.

The action was too fast, too violent for her to follow. Lizzy's face slammed into the screen. Teeth bit into her shoulder. Hard thrusts slammed into her body as Jim humped her like a dog with a pillow. She was too shocked to scream as pain lanced into her with every movement, Jim's throwing every ounce of mass and strength into them, her body crumpling so the head of his cock crushed against her cervix painfully with every slam of the hips. It was like being punched in the pussy by a professional boxer, her labia splayed wide, blood splattering onto the white carpet below. She could feel every impact travel up her compacted spine, driving the breath from her lungs. One eyeball, mashed against the screen, could not close properly.

When it ended, finally, the movie was long over. The **** had run its course. Lizzy, on the floor, face swelling and bruised, blood and cum oozing out of her battered pussy, could hear Jim sobbing on the couch, begging for forgiveness. Numbly, she crawled away. Her legs didn't want to work. The image that her exhausted brain focused on was the look on Jim's face, that moment she screamed. She had never seen a man's face twisted in such an expression of naked, raw lust and anger.

At some point, Jim left. Lizzy dragged herself to bed.

Long hours of fitful sleep, pussy and face swelling and pulsing as the healing process began. When she awoke, she could walk, a little, shaky and hungry as she staggered into the bathroom she had pissed through scabs, the hot liquid like acid and stained pink, and had shivered at the sensation and grabbed the sink for support. Wiping her pussy clean was an agony that brought her to her knees.

Lizzy heard the door open as she was in the shower. She came out, dressed only in a towel, to the smell of Japanese take-out. Janine was at the table, dressed in loose sweat pants and a shirt that read SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWBOY.

"How was your date night? Did you cum?" Janine asked. Hair wet, dressed only in a towel, Lizzy managed only a silent shake of her head.

Janine sighed. "Men. Never send them to do a woman's job."

Lizzy's one good eye widened as she saw the vial of green liquid in her friend's head. It felt like a hole opened in her chest as she watched Janine's head tilt back, swallowing the emerald liquid. Then Janine shivered and flexed her shoulders. Muscles that Lizzy had never seen rippled on the exposed arm. Janine turned and grinned at her friend.

The scream was caught in Lizzy's throat. Her towel fell to the ground, and she staggered forward. Janine was there, with preternatural speed, and strength.

"You know, you beautiful cunt, I've always wanted to do this to you," she whispered, as she dragged Lizzy over to the table and threw her down on it, right next to the take-out. Knuckles pressed against Lizzy's exposed pussy. Hot tears welled in her eyes as pain, and something else, ripped through her body. Janine's mouth closed over her, the tongue delving into the offered orifice.

"In the end, I think Lizzy did get what she wanted...and she got it good and hard," Asenath said.

Her palm came down on the candle.