Bloody Toy Of His

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When you see him, you will fall at his feet. When you hear him, you would wish to love him. when he sees you, you'll wish for death. Lenari Fane ran from her village, after being accused of witchery, avoiding death by the hands of her family, she ran for two days before collapsing in her vain search for food and water. When she woke, trapped in a metal cage she was not expecting. There, she met the devil, unknown man in the middle of the woods with no humans in sight, with his smokey silver eyes, black hair and handsome face, his toy she quickly becomes. In a few quick weeks, she becomes immune, no matter how much he hurt her, killed her, she would always come back to life, and he gets the pleasure to kill her again. She was his toy after all, and he loved how beautiful she looked bleeding to death, and how deliciously rich her blood was. After all, she was his, his to bleed, his to torture, his to drain, his to break. She was his, and she will never leave his grasp, no matter what happens.

Horror / Erotica
4.9 22 reviews
Age Rating:

Chapter 1: Witch.

Chapter 1: Witch.

“Catch her!”

Oof. I winced at the loud shouts of old fat men yelling, trying to catch the witch.

That's me. Well not really, I am not a witch. I may be a real bitch, that I am sure of, but not a goddamn witch.

I sprinted through the thick forest, my skirt swishing behind me, tearing apart when it caught in the branches, exposing my -now very cold- legs.

Yes, I am being chased for reasons that are seriously unreasonable.

It’s sad but simple really, I was born into a pretty small family, two sisters and a brother, my parents worked different jobs for minimum wage, my brother went to school, while my father forbade me and my sister from doing so, sending us off to clean houses instead.

My mother bless her poor unfortunate soul; Taught us what she was taught by her own parents. See, my mother was a genius; born to a great scientist, and she taught us what they taught her. With genes like that you’d wonder how and why I am running from men that can barely see their nonexistent balls from all the stomach.

Well being smart and having wit also equals being a witch, and my strange features certainly did not help.

What a time to be alive.

I gasped in pain and surprise when someone grabbed my long wavy snowy blonde hair, by its end, tangling their grubby dirty pudgy fingers in my locks. I looked back at the disgusting balding man, his small beady eyes went down my disastrous form, and a sick smile made its way onto his face. “Caught ’er.”

Kicking him in his bejewels, that are surely worth nothing, he howled in pain, his grip loosening on my waves. I took my chance and tried to run, but his grip tightened again growing frustrated and terrified, I pulled out my dagger from its hiding place and swiftly swiped at the place connecting us. He pulled away screaming in pain, his fingers falling to the floor.

I bit my lip to stop myself from screaming in horror, not giving myself a second to realize what I had done, I sprinted away from the man, straight through the trees his screams growing farther and farther away.

I was tired, my lungs were on fire, I was thirsty and very much losing pace, which wasn’t so fast in the first place.

Slowing down to stop in a thick part of vegetation, the wall of a mountain almost fully covered with moss and vines; I sat down on the soft grass my breathing coming in short pants.

My heart felt like it would explode.

Truth be told, I sat there for quite a long while. How do I know this? The stars told me that.

That’s because It was morning when I sat down.

The moon’s silver rays barely shone through the branches of the tall trees, the thick greenery hiding most light keeping the forest dark.

The silver was brilliant.

I had always enjoyed the night, the darkest hour was my favourite, the eclipse a very close second. I love seeing the stars etched into the dark sky like that game we used to play with dots connecting lines between each one to make squares, but this time you invent new constellations so you could easily draw and read your own map to your own land. Create everything you like, painting and writing your own stories of every tiny little star.

It always made me wonder how it would feel to go closer to one, take one’s first steps on one, and where they would disappear in the mourning.

I stretched and I felt a cold material under my fingertips, the feeling of moss. As much as I loved the company of the moon, the night bought on it’s own challenges, For one, I was freezing, and the moss looked quite soft and inviting, I stood up and pulled at the moss, trying to tear it.

I succeeded at landing on my ass, the moss as stubborn as I. Standing up again I pulled at the moss again, moving side to side, trying to pull it off.

“Oh my...” I ran my hand through my hair. “The stupid is truly infectious.” I mumbled to myself as soon as I realized, I did indeed have a dagger and did not need this pain.

My hand went down into my skirt, looking for my blade, hoping I had not dropped it while running.

After twenty minutes of not finding anything I collapsed onto the floor exhausted.

The morning came soon, and I looked for food and water, but failed in my search.

It’s been two days since the chase and I was dying.

No food, no water.

I could not find anything and I was crumbling. My throat burned and my stomach ached, as if my stomach was eating my kidney.

I stumbled and fell to the floor, my vision blurred, darkness fought to consume the rest of it. The image of what I could only hope was shoes entered my line of vision.

I felt someone’s hands grab my waist, and pull me up before I welcomed the darkness as it overwhelmed me and rendered me unconscious.

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