The Black Lily

The Black Lily The Black Lily

Status: Finished

Genre: Horror

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Horror

Summary

This is a gorey necrophilia story that should only be meant for adults. There is very explicit material, but there is a reason for it all. There is an overwhelming, passionate presence that is suppose to fill the mind of the reader.

Summary

This is a gorey necrophilia story that should only be meant for adults. There is very explicit material, but there is a reason for it all. There is an overwhelming, passionate presence that is suppose to fill the mind of the reader.

Content

Submitted: August 08, 2011

A A A | A A A

Content

Submitted: August 08, 2011

A A A

A A A


The time was late for the broken hearted. The clocks struck pain for those who waited. It was a pleasure to see things bleed; to see blood purged from the body of the weakened; to see liquid crimson pouring out so thick…so deep. A single drop slid from her perfect lip. The image itself was so perfect…a beauty that could never be described. It was all so immensely breath taking…all just a simply complicated piece of art. One that could never be repeated or copied for the placement of every deadly, copasetic droplet could never be the same.

The brilliance of her body was ever so lovely. She laid with her shoulders flat against the bed in almost a fetal position. Her legs were that of a model; they went on forever guiding a way to her stunning curves and a softly toned abdomen. One of her hands was gently above her thin stomach, ribs delicately showing, smooth, round breasts bare, a hint of a sternum sunk in between. Not a single blemish on her body…except for a small mole directly below her pink nipple. To obsess over her was pure madness. To cling to her beauty was a sickness. Maybe that’s why she’s dead. Maybe that’s why her pale skin was stained with her own blood. Maybe that’s why she laid glistening in red satin begging to be forgiven. 

Her beauty could only be compared to that of blood; both completely flawless and pure. No wrong could be done to them; only a stronger perfection. Her classic beauty will live on, but it’s a shame no one could possibly see that now. Life had forsaken her. And love had only left her. Black and blue is all she ever saw and pure innocence was take before a white veil. To endure such a cruelty was a sorrow filled melody that constantly played in her mind. To take her life was a gift. She was an angel on earth and now she will always be an angel.

 

The voices purred. Art and blood are always libel to take the strangest forms. A luminescent glow hovered around the scene. The darkness had never been so bright. I had thought until this moment that death was an unavoidable, ugly disease from which everyone slowly suffers from. A disease that scars your skin and paralyzes for an eternity of wasting away…but I guess I was wrong. Yessss, you were very wrong. You let the angel live in a place more suitable for the sacred. A divine soul surrounds us now. Congratulations on such a decadent kill. For some, death comes as a horrible surprise, but for others…death is a joyful release. I’m sure she could have said her death was both.

Her taste was so satisfying, but watching from afar never quite quenched my thirst. Now I will always savor her lingering flavor. I worshiped her as god for so long at a painstaking distance. The voices edged me closer to her every day. I thought that there were demons inside were demanding me to do their bidding and that everything I did fed them bringing me down even more. I’ve learned since then that those demons were just my dark inner voice. It appears that I was my own demon. The last hand was raised the say his blood splattered onto my lips. That was the last time there was silence in my mind. As purity was taken, evil enveloped and flooded my very existence.

That’s how I came to be known. Someone once told me I was invisible. And maybe I am to those who do not wish to see me. But to others…I am the person in the blackened corner that is labeled insane and demented at mere sight. I understand…only because I am. There’s nothing more beneficial to life than death. I can’t say that I’m the reaper of souls, but I wish I could. My demonic self will always rule over that of which is not…and gloom will always please me. She was impeccable, but a gothic touch was needed.

 

As her blood continues to flow, I examine her body; taking in every single detail. Piercing purple eyes stare blankly into the ceiling with a bit of ironic life left in them. They look as if she could see straight into my soul…almost like she could see all the wrong that I had ever done. As I stare into her eyes, adrenaline starts to build inside me. I want to suffocate her already lifeless body. Bruises around her neck would be such a delicacy to see. My fingerprints would stay permanently…I would always be a part of her. A piece of me would always be hers. Do not touch her. She’s a broken angel. You will go to hell for this. There is no hell. There is. The only hell is on earth and the only heaven is in the minds of men. Nothing is worse than touching someone so vulnerable. Watch her. Fall to your knees for her.

There was nothing more that I could do than listen to my own mind. It has trained me. It has led me through the life I lead. But I still have urges. I have to touch her. I need to touch her. Before I slid the metal through her very bones, I got to feel her breath upon me; her warmth touch me. The very thought excites me. She excites me. She was a whore in my mind, but was engagingly prude in her real life. She could always please me despite that. In all actuality, her prude tendencies probably egged me on more to kill her. To defile her. To drip at the very thought of her touching herself. I just want to lather myself in her blood and her wetness. I have an unswerving urge to know what she really tastes like. To know what it feels like to be inside her.

I slowly graze her thigh with my fingertips. Her skin is so soft and sensual I can’t help but to carry on. Her blood is still warm. Still purging from her open wounds. They taste so amazing. She tastes so amazing. I could never ask for such a brilliant moment. As I lick up her abdomen and around her nipples, I am struck by how absolutely beautiful her lips are. I softly touch her lips to mine. Ever so slightly. So I don’t scare her with my forward nature. I gently lick her lip and nibble kindly. Just the way I know she likes it. I move her face so I can kiss neck and savagely bite her jaw bone. I claw at her breasts. Scratching them. Playing with them the same way a dirty girl may like it.

I come to realize that some other areas deserve particular attention. I caress her outer lip. Taking it how incredibly perfect her filthy pussy is. She knows I want inside her, but tease her longer. I flick my tongue against her clit making her jolt and jittery in an ever so pleasing way. She’s vibrating in pleasure. I swirl and circle my tongue making her moan like a whore. Yes…I admire her this way. I will always admire a whore. I think she deserves a little punishment though. She is enjoying herself a little too much for my taste. I am her master of course. I decide how she feels. I bring her down a peg of pleasure by biting off her clit. Quite gracefully I might add. Oh does she love me now. Forever will she listen to me for my mouth is dripping with her skin and blood. 

She’s so wet now. I’m throbbing. My veins are bulging and my breath is heavy. I cannot deny myself her tightness any longer. I take her wetness and cover myself as a curtsey to her when I tear inside her. I carefully just put the tip of my head in just to tease ever so slightly more. I push in a little more. She is begging me to be inside. To thrust so hard it hurts. So I do. With every thrust, more blood purges from her wounds. She is completely covered in wetness now. Oh how I can please her. She feels so tight around me. But I want deeper. I pull her thigh to my chest. Attempting to force myself all the way. She seems pleased by the idea. She spreads her thighs. Arching her back. Pushing into me. Grasping the sheets in ecstasy. Her breasts raise and her breathing is oh so much faster. Her moans so incredibly loud.

My body tenses as I watch her nipples get hard and bounce with each thrust. I grab them pulling her into me harder, so I fuck her as deep as possible to pleasure her in her moments of ecstasy. I cannot help but to allow myself to enjoy this moment. I being to tingle and warmth entrancing my entire body. She feel so good around me. Better than anything else has ever felt before. We orgasm together and it seems as though the moment is lasting a lifetime. I’ve never fucked to good and obviously neither has she. I was pleased to the cum dripping from her. More excited than anything else. It was hers and mine. Forever will she be mine.

I lay next to her. Pulling her in close to me. Caressing her shoulders and sides. I love her so. I’ve never wanted to be closer to another person. She is all I want forever more. I want to be with her until the end of days. She’s so beautiful and I believe she loves me just the same. I kiss her cheek and show every sort of affection toward her because she the goddess that no one else could have.

I even brought her a gift. All because she deserves the best treatment. She deserves all the romance in the world. All the love that could ever be loved. White lilies were her favorite flowers, so I lay them next to her and stroke her hair as she admires their beauty. I smile softly in such delight. I step back to appreciate the scene. To stand in awe at the magnificent beauty created.

You are so beautiful baby. I love you. So why must the scene look this way? Why did I do this? You are more than I could ever ask for and far more than I ever deserved. In the end it all goes away…so perhaps I shall end in the same fate. Forever I will be yours.

 

And that was the closest anyone came to cutting out their own heart


© Copyright 2018 Shockett. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Other Content by Shockett

More Great Reading

Popular Tags