"What ... have ... you ... done ... to ... me ...?" he croaked.
She continued to appreciate every inch of his naked leathery skin that had been pressed against hers, grinding her pelvis into his as the old sensations of arousal flooded back into her and reminded her of the many times they'd made love. But despite her strength, Alexander had insisted on being the dominant one in bed and had proven it time and time again with his persistent knack for binding her to things. Now it was his turn to be bound and gagged for a change.
"I've only given you what you wanted, my love, the opportunity to love me forever." Her voice was low and sultry, like the suggestive moans of a seductress who had captured her lover and was going to make him suffer with ecstasy and agony every minute of their union. As had been the habit from before, she allowed what was left of his manhood to slip into its old spot like a gun into a familiar holster. She tried her best, considering the circumstance, to ride him and keep him pinned all the while, running her dark-red-painted lips along his skin and taking small nips here and there. In the wake of her passionate kisses were missing chunks of his flesh that she
savored as the chill of his grave sank into her.
Though it was hardly the same as in his living days, Kyla found the pleasure exquisite and singular, wholely unlike anything any regular man could ever provide for her darkly insatiable appetites. Every hair on the back of her neck stood on end. The naked surface of her skin was covered in goosebumps. Low moans were escaping from deep within her throat and she knew that the time was soon approaching to take her leave of this grave site. As the final moment came and went, she kissed the lips of her lover once more.
"You and I will meet again. Our work is not finished here."
Upon his finger had been the high school graduation ring he'd received from the year before, when he had stood amidst his peers during commencement. She tugged eagerly to pull it off, but it had been swollen into place. The dagger proved its use one last time for the night when she hacked through the skin and tendons and yanked the whole finger off. This item she stashed in the black velvet pouch.
Having buttoned up her dress again and tying the cloak securely at her throat, she clambered out of the six-foot pit and replaced the dirt. At long last she stood beside it and glanced down at the headstone, licking her lips. There was still much to do, she realized. Her lover would prove his use one way or another, even if it meant the enslavement of his soul for an eternity before his duties were complete. But it wasn't something that troubled Kyla Dunsirn. She'd grown cold to the feelings of others, even if they were dead, and cared only for her own personal advancement. With this in mind, she tucked the shovel beneath her cloak and carried it back towards her car, sulking through the fading mist of the cemetery as her eyes peered out from beneath the hood and searched for any sign that her necrophiliac tendencies had been witnessed.
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Kyla "Looking for Mr. Right " Dunsirn
(Listening to the cd, "Angels of Despair")