Hybristophilia and Autassassinophilia

 
He's had so many victims since I first found out about him, but finally, after almost a year of research and investigation, I have found him. He's even more attractive than my imaginings of him and the seduction went off flawlessly; with him pretending to care about me as a person, and I pretending not to know what he had in store for me.

He was so gentle and hesitant at first; playing the part. I grinned and enjoyed it; playing my part. His hands were not meant for loving caresses, and I, knowing what he is, can feel the lie in them. Still, they excite me, because I know they are part of his ritual. I undress him, and he undresses me. As he does, a slight sneer crosses his lips at the ease with which I give myself over to him, though it is quickly hidden. Ah! And we kiss; an electric pleasure as his lust mounts, so close now, so close to the moment we both came here for. He lays above me and plasters a hollow smile on his face, then thrusts himself inside me. I writhe beneath the increasing pace of his hips and pull him close for another kiss. He obliges me and I moan.

And now, finally, his hands wrap around my throat as he pulls back to look me in the eyes. For him the game is over, he's no longer pretending that I am his lover. I am his victim, and his eyes scream the fact as a malicious grin spreads across his face. Here he is! Here's his true self! Now my lust begins in earnest and as he thrusts deeper and harsher inside me he realizes it. He chuckles, and I know he thinks me a stupid girl that does not understand her situation; a girl with a slight kink that thinks this is play. He clenches his hands harder, his hips never stopping their rhythm, my breathing cut off.

I smile up at him and confusion crosses his face. His hands unclench and I take an instinctive, unwanted breath. He stares down at me, hands still at the ready and malign lust still in his eyes, and tries to make it clear; “I'm going to kill you.”

My smile widens as I respond; “I know.”

His hands rush to my throat again, harder than ever, as he unnecessarily tries to impress upon me the seriousness of my situation. Then he forgets about me, lost in the act, and again my smile widens. I can't breath, can't move, my head begins to swirl as this man stares down into my eyes. Those eyes! Those delicious eyes! No hint of the mask is left; vicious insanity pours out of them. Hatred, anger, lust, and that beautiful unhinged joy! As I cascade over the edge of carnal bliss my vision dims, and blacks out. My only regret is that I can't give him the only thing he truly desires from me; my fear.

I wake up, sore and confused, every breath a wonderful torment but a tremendous disappointment. I open my eyes and realize I am on the floor beside his bed, with him looking down at me. His gaze suggests I'm a curious creature, one he means to study.

Tears come to my eyes and I force a cracked whisper out of my damaged throat; “No. No I thought you were going to kill me!”

He smirks slightly, and when he speaks it's in a tone of condescension; “I will. If you do as I say. If you're a good girl.” He pauses; “If you bring me others.”

“When?” I demand.

A grateful smile crosses my lips as he grabs the back of my hair cruelly, almost strong enough to pull out by the roots, reminding me of my place.

“When .I. Decide to, and not a second sooner.”

“Of course, I'm sorry.” I whisper back to him.

He smiles at his control over me; “Good girl.”