Story: Gypsy Blood (Violence, Hard Vore)

[nephilim]

I'm a writer and a biter.
For those of you not familiar with my writing, I have extensive character interactions that shape the circumstances leading up to the vore. It's primarily M/F and very graphic. And intense. Most of my vore scenes - if not all - are hard. (;

Because this part of my story is shamelessly all about the hard vore.... I thought I'd post it here, to give the hard voraphiles a little lovin'
If you want the full tale: http://aryion.com/g4/view/219293
And the precursor: http://aryion.com/g4/view/211330
(Redundant warnings: Hard vore, unwilling, non-con, sexual, fatal, blood, teeth, macro/micro, dark themes, twisted, sadistic predator)

Merciful



In an explosion of movement, he was gone.


No!


And Nita ran. She ran for the counter, heart-pounding. Her entire focus, her entire existence narrowed to the pale white figure trembling on the counter. She ran. She ran to Leigh. She had to make it there before him. Absolutely had to.


But the gypsy knew she could not outmatch him. He was too strong. Impossibly fast. At least, not physically. Instead, mid-stride, she flexed the muscle of her mind.


In the tremulous tick between the seconds she seized upon Leigh's energy field, and, ever-so gently moved it. Danny landed noiselessly. His teeth snapped on empty air. Whirling around in shock, he rolled, and crashed to the floor, disoriented.


He never missed his mark. Stunned, he leapt to his feet.


The disturbance Nita created had shattered Leigh's energy field from under the surface. It was not unlike ripples cascading outward, distorting the reflection in a pond. Danny had become like a cat, darting his paw in, trying to catch a moving image.


He was rubbing his temples, blinking furiously.


Soundlessly, Nita moved forward and cupped Leigh in her hands. She glanced at him, holding the small woman close to her chest like a baby bird.


"Very clever," Danny muttered. His eyes pinched shut.


Nita was suddenly, utterly lost. She was standing before the very abomination that just had Leigh in his mouth. His mouth! Danny's dark lashes flicked up; first one, then the other, revealing a cold, pale gaze. Her skin crawled.


Instinctively, Nita backed away. Her mind, her body, her soul - the very vessel of her being - could no longer stand to be around him. This aberration.


Fear was beginning to clutch her skull. Silent, uninvited, her teeth began to chatter.


"P-put her back. Back to normal." The silence was unnerving, she could sense his amusement. Nita looked up. Her throat closed.


Danny was smiling a wolf smile at her; eerily reminiscent of a man's, but missing a critical element of human connection. "Give her to me." His voice barely made it past the flush of pleasure in his throat. It was raw, ragged. Nita could feel the saliva pooling in his mouth.


Nita shook her head violently. "You'll kill her."


"She's as good as dead." He held his hand toward her, palm up. His lips parted just so, deliberately, shamelessly licking the corners of his mouth.


"NO," Nita screeched, clutching Leigh to her bosom. "No. I can't."


"She's dying. I'll put her out of her misery."


"No, no, no, no, I can't. I can't." I can't I can't I can't.


He took a step closer. Nita held a hand up, blocking his advance.


"Then you're going to let her die slowly? Painfully?"


"I won't let you have her. I'd rather that she died a thousand deaths than die at your hand." Nita was incandescent with her rage.


He laughed. "Have it your way Lady Justice. You sure can be melodramatic."




.x.


Her entire world had erupted along a precious fault line. The tectonic plates were shifting, redesigning the landscape of her known world. Frozen, confused, she didn't know what to do. How to respond. Her legs were shaking. The image, Good Lord, the image was burned into her mind. It was impossible. Yet.


Yet.


Leigh was tiny, dying. And Danny stood soundlessly, watching like a silent beast in the night. This was... It was. It -


A wordless cry snuck past Nita's lips, then another. She clamped her mouth shut, and raked her fingers through her hair. Danny walked closer, intent. She yelled, screeching at him, and, in a mad haste -stumbling to get out of his reach - fell over and landed ugly on the floor. "Don't," she choked out. "Don't touch me." Leigh rolled gracelessly from her hands like a broken doll. Danny stopped her with the edge of his shoe. He bent down to pick her up. Arousal written in every line of his body.


His eyes never left Nita's. She said nothing. Leigh was lifted, suspended, as beautiful and fragile as white china, to his lips. The hinge to his jaw glided open. Teasingly, his tongue flicked out. Wet and gleaming, it caressed her. Tendrils of saliva hung heavily from her pale skin, tethering her to his mouth like spider silk. She could hear the obscene slide of flesh against flesh. And with a twitch of his wrist - a movement so careless, so utterly insulting - he thrust her into the pitiless black. A muscle in his jaw stood out strong and proud as he summoned his mastery. His teeth sank smooth like silk.


Nita was transfixed. She couldn't look away. An audible crack split the seams of the still night air. It reverberated along the fault line in Nita's world, threatening to tear it asunder. And she began to sink. It was the sound of Leigh. It was her body. Shattering. Oh, Leigh... Danny's mouth was moving in the most indulgent sway, the blood gushing down his face thick and black.


In a moment of feverish insanity, she didn't understand. What, what is it that he is doing. This funny movement, this back-and-forth of the bones in his face, the muscles jumping. He is chewing, her brain whispered to her. She choked on the madness. Her intake of breath came in sharp, flecked with rusted spittle.


He tilted his head back, exposing the length of his neck. Nita watched as the muscles in his throat lifted, dark shadows under layers and layers of powerful muscle. Leigh is in there? He swallowed wetly. The force of it drove her down. Nita's shoulders collapsed. Her joints groaned. Bare bone against bare bone. A paroxysm of agony drove her down to the floor. She tried to lift her head - to see, to see the world, why was it so dark - but the muscles in her neck were all wrong. Some terrible force was pinching the vertebrate in her cervical spine. Currents of electrical pain were dancing up her back. And suddenly, it was horrifically audible; the gurgle of juices lapping at her skull, the slithering slide of trapped flesh hissing in her ear. Leigh's broken body slid under his Adam's apple, distending his skin for just a moment - and then - was gone.


A series of quick, gentle after-swallows finished the mélange in his mouth. He swirled his tongue around, feeding on every last drop of her.


His spine arched. Nita nearly went mad. She was in him. In his body. In his stomach. No, it was Leigh. Leigh was in him. Inside.


He shouted in pleasure, one hand moving mindlessly to caress his midsection. Then, he was motionless, trance-like. Sightless and unseeing, his chest heaving, heaving in orgasm. Nita could only stare, disbelieving.


And on this went, his husky pleas slowly dying to nothing.


The silence was colossal.


Finally, he came to. He was drugged on Leigh's sweet nectar, Nita amplifying the pleasure back to him. He spoke slowly, thickly, "It's not nearly half as good when they go down dead." He shrugged elegantly, recovering, his gaze re-focusing. "But you helped."


He moved over to Nita and crouched down. The spell broke. She screamed at him, blathering, clutching her skull. She scrambled under the table. He smirked and grabbed a lock of the gypsy's once-perfect hair. In her insanity she had torn her braids apart, her hair was in tatters. He twisted it around his fingers with a lover's tenderness. "Who's next?"