DISCLAIMER

The following is a work of dark fiction, featuring erotic consensual death as part of a sexual encounter. If you are capable of enjoying this as macabre horror fiction, or as a fantasy, enjoy. If not, read at your own risk.



Surrender

This is a story about the free dreamer. Empowered by dark lusts, embraced without regret, his dreams are not the prison of the individual. As we all dream in our private universes, he moves freely amongst them, looking for a victim of his lust.

Pacing quietly at the edge of one, a shimmering sphere of shadow and light, he pauses to peer in. His eyes, shining an unnaturally bright green, appraise the moving shadows within. Very few people would be able to make sense of what he saw there, but experienced as he was with seeing the dreams of others, it was an open book to him.

Inside, he saw a stunningly beautiful woman, wearing a sheer satin dress. She was under attack by a blurry shape, which vanished almost instantly as if nothing had happened. Then it returned, only to vanish again. Another flash, and a knife hovered at her throat, pinning her against a wall in shock. Another flash, and it disappeared. All the while her poses flashed back and forth, matching the situations she found herself in, and not seeming to notice the constant flickering of her reality.

This woman was dreaming about peril. About dying. Yet this was not a nightmare. The constant flickering was a sign of her hunger for more, and her frustration of living out these fantasies as a mere shadow of what they would be in reality. Clearly she had experienced these dreams far too often already, and hungered for something more. Transfixed by this woman's struggle to satisfy her darkest impulses, the dreamer stared at this marvellous creature.

Pushing against the wall of her dream's universe, he felt it yield and give way against the pressure of his hand. He smiled. The wall was a way for the dreamer's subconscious mind to protect the dream, and only letting in what belonged there. If it allowed him in this easily, considering his intent with his new victim, her subconscious was clearly welcoming it. He quietly walked through the shadows of her dreams, the blurred void that is beyond the dreamer's attention. He was to be the peril that didn't flicker out of existance. The mortal danger that did not fall under her power. She would get what she wanted.

As he entered the room, the flickering stopped, and she was standing in front of a mirror, brushing her hair. She was facing away from him, but he could see her nervously looking at him in the mirror. She could sense something had changed. "Are you here to kill me?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

He walked up to her, still looking at him with a deer-in-the headlights kind of stare. When he reached her, he paused. He tenderly placed a hand on her shoulder, as if to comfort her. "I am," he said simply, "but first I want you to go to sleep for me"

She barely got the chance to wonder what he meant, before he reached his arm over her shoulder, wrapping it around her neck and clasping his hands together behind her head. He then pulled up and squeezed her neck, cutting off the blood supply to her brain. Almost immediately, she felt herself starting to black out. Within about ten seconds, she fully surrendered to it, slumping back against his body in an unconscious daze.

When she came to again, she found herself lying on her own bed. She was completely naked, and lying on top of the sheets. She felt very strange, and her body tingled all over. Investigating a strange sticky sensation, her hand reached between her legs and brushed her mound. Her fingers felt wet with what seemed mostly saliva. She frowned, but then the door to her room opened, and he stepped into the room. Poorly lit as the room was, she could only see twin glowing lights where his eyes should be at first, but a little later a threatening looking figure stepped out of the shadows.

"You know," a voice said quietly, "you look beautiful when you're unconscious." A little fazed at his uncaring attitude towards her well being, she realized this was her cue to get upset and angry with him, but somehow she couldn't. In fact, she really hoped he would do it to her again. So she could wake up all over again, wondering what he had done to her while she was passed out. She was a little shocked to find out she was getting decidedly excited at the prospect. Torn between the anger she knew she was supposed to feel, and the bestial lust for more she did feel, she found herself unable to answer him. He just smiled at her, and moved closer to her. Stepping fully into the light, she could see that he was naked too, and he was clearly as excited as she was.

Biting her lip and taking a few unsteady breaths in a vain attempt to calm herself, she quickly realized that she wanted to give up, to surrender her body to his darkest desires. Still unable to speak but painfully impatient, she spread her legs in an obscenely overt invitation to him. He wasted no time, and within seconds she closed her eyes and moaned softly as she felt his tongue pleasuring her. Abandoning all shreds of decency in the heady rush of the moment, she grasped his head in both of her hands and pushed it against her crotch, grinding her pelvis against him. Within a matter of minutes, she screamed out, in the grasp of a powerful orgasm. Invaded by his tongue, her back arched as wave after wave of pleasure pulsed through her body.

Finally, she relaxed and laid back with a smile, still breathing hard. Her wonderful attacker released her and got up, looking at her with a smile. Wondering what was next, she opened her eyes, just in time to see him come closer again. He crawled on top of her and without warning entered her. She gasped. She was not prepared for this. Having him enter her this forcefully, this quickly after an orgasm of that magnitude, was not entirely pleasant.

As she felt him urgently press deeper and deeper within her, she felt utterly unable and unwilling to stop him. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to let him have his way with her. After a few seconds of this, she was surprised to find out that she was actually enjoying the feel of him, throbbing and thrusting deep within her sore body.

When she finally opened her eyes, she was startled, looking straight in his eyes. He smiled at her again, and said "I think it's about time I end your life." Stunned by his simple admission of her impending death, her pleasure flared to new heights, but her mind was in shock. Abandoning herself fully, she obediently reached for a cabinet next to the bed. With him still on top of her it wasn't easy, but she really didn't want to interrupt him having her, and she stretched out until her fingertips brushed the handle of the drawer she was looking for.

Still thrusting deeply into her, he watched her progress, looking amused. She finally managed to open the drawer, and pulled out the silk scarf she so loved to use for her own private breath play. Looking deeply into his eyes, she slowly wrapped the scarf around her neck. Her heart pounded out of control, anticipating the ultimate fulfilment of her darkest, most secret, desires. He had stopped moving, watching her every move in fascination. He had stopped moving, but she still felt him deep inside of her.

The feel of the silk on her skin, the subtle rustle of the cloth, made her shudder in delight. She pulled on both ends to properly settle the loop she'd draped around her neck, and in the ultimate gesture of willing surrender, she handed them over to her beloved killer.

He grasped both ends, closing his fists around them tightly. He then leaned down and kissed her passionately. She knew this was his way of saying goodbye, and that she would die soon. He slowly started moving inside her again, and while she still enjoyed the feel of his lips, she felt the scarf tighten. Her eyes closed, her mouth opened in a silent scream. The tight feel around her neck was far more than anything she'd ever experienced before, and as her throat fully closed, she knew that she'd drawn her last breath. She reveled in the thought of giving herself to this man. Her body, her life. Her last breath. The spectacle of her slow death, given freely and willingly for him to enjoy.

And he did enjoy it. The look in his eyes left no doubt that he would take this all the way, and not allow her another breath. She felt like she was just a willing toy for him to act out his dark lust. She would've tried to hold her breath till the end, just for him, and this felt like he was just helping her do that. Her body started going more and more numb, and yet she still felt him moving in and out, ever faster. As her vision started to darken around the edges, and felt him moving faster still, she knew they were both very close to reaching their climax, though that word clearly had a different meaning between the two of them. He pulled even tighter, and her neck arched from the strain of it. He was gritting his teeth. Clearly he was close to finishing, and wanted to finish her at the same time.

Three things happened, all at once. Firstly, her loving killer tensed, and she felt him climax inside of her. Secondly, in the final throes of death her lust peaked, and she answered his orgasm with one of her own. At this point, her lungs burning for air and her body burning up the last of her oxygen in a frenzy of pleasure, she expired beautifully.

The unseeing eyes of his willing victim still staring up at him, the dreamer didn't stop thrusting until he was fully spent. He then leaned down and tenderly kissed her open mouth...

...

When she woke up, she looked around herself in confusion. Could that really have been a dream? She was drenched in sweat, but sweat was not all that made her body feel sticky. With a content smile she leaned back on her pillow, marvelling at the delicious realism of the dream, and she hoped this was not the last time she would wake up like this.

...

Little did she know, the dreamer had tasted her depraved thoughts, and had taken a liking to them. Her dreams were his now, and they would never be the same again. She would get her wish.