Soft whimpering filled the pitch black darkness around us. A pathetic lump of human being was curled on the dirty ground at our feet. Roderick turned his head upward slowly, giving his full, void-like gaze towards me as if in permission. Drool spilled over his bottom lip at the corner of his mouth.

“Not yet, my pet,” I cooed. I touched the top of Roderick’s head then knelt down by the whining, cowering human. The grown man on the ground shuddered and recoiled away as much as possible. “The Dark Mother is not pleased with you,” I continued in a disappointed tone. There were three thin, stinging cuts on the underside of my right arm, parallel to each other. Blood gladly seeped down my forearm and branched off my elbow to pool on the ground below. The curl of my lips was unmistakable. Very gently, I began to trace an index finger over the man’s hip.

A multitude of screams pierced the silent blackness. Nevertheless, I continued to drag my finger down over the side of the man’s thigh, despite the convulsions and howls of agony coming from him. The man’s clothing turned a grayish yellow then melted away. The flesh where the trail the finger had been wrinkled, cracked, then split open and began to decay. The muscle beneath the skin rotted into nothing. The bone below it all turned brittle and splintered like a twig. It was a gorgeous masterpiece of destruction. Blood spilled out over the remnants of the man’s leg and washed down over the ground like it had rained. Beautiful, was all I could think, simply beautiful. My smirk never ceased, but I held up my opposite, free hand. Beside me, Roderick fidgeted after giving a throaty and hungry groan. When I was a fledgling, this would have made me aroused already… but that was when I was young. I felt nothing for this man, nothing at all, not even with the decay.

“Not yet, my pet,” I said again. “Just watch… watch what happens to those that become traitors to the Dark Mother…”

Stopping my finger just at the man’s knee, I purposefully left the entire leg split wide open and half-decayed. Slowly, I removed my hand so I could place both hands now on either side of the writhing, yelling man’s face. Unconsciousness from shock would not be far away, but I had much more to show the man before he woke up dead. I leaned my face down close to the bawling and pale man. “It’s a shame I cannot use your body for my own desires…” I whispered. “For, you see, my zombie needs to feed…” On cue, Roderick fidgeted beside me again. He licked his lips hopefully, fingers curling and uncurling as they hovered near his stomach. The man gurgled suddenly and choked on words that I couldn’t make out; the words were obviously protests. “Shhh,” I comforted, stroking the man’s cheeks with my thumbs to feign sympathy. My lips twitched. I grinned widely in amusement.

The flesh of the man’s cheeks did the same thing his thigh had done: wrinkled, decayed, then the bones of his face splintered. His eyes were white and wide, face contorted with an unspeakable pain. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, but no sounds came from him. “Ah…” A light sigh slipped from my lips as warm blood oozed over my fingers.

“M-masterrr…” Roderick pleadingly moaned. His hands were fisted in the front of his shirt, his thighs rubbing together.

“Alright,” I finally said, dropping the man’s head and standing back to my feet. I extended my arm out to Roderick, fingers near the boy’s lips. He took two fingers into his mouth and suckled the blood from them before biting down roughly. My lungs took a sharp intake of breath and I wiggled my fingers away from Roderick before he could bite them off. “Wish him goodbye, boy… and then you may feed…”

Quickly dropping down to his knees, Roderick leaned over the nearly dead man so his lips would be close to the ear. “…Goodbye…” Roderick whispered happily. The man gurgled loudly, but Roderick had already begun to devour him, drool and all. Roderick was one of the Raised, but I had taught him to be erotic with his food, to play with it… for me, of course.

Gently, he ground his hips into the man’s crotch, causing the gore from the man’s decayed thigh to spill over onto his lap. His fingers teased the flaps of flesh left from places where he had chewed and bitten. His mouth was full of meat and blood and organ, but that didn’t stop him from making soft moans of pleasure. Now it was my turn to fidget. The man’s annihilation had not aroused me… but Roderick’s meal-time manners did. I longed to delve my own hands down into the warm wetness of the man’s cavity; to smell the blood, the rotting musk; to feel the slippery organs as they passed through my fingers when I crushed them. I groaned huskily.

Roderick paused in his dinner and gave me a curious glance. I slid down into a seated position against the wall opposite him. “Finish,” I said hoarsely. Roderick looked me over a moment more, then turned to scoop up a handful of what mess had been inside the man’s chest. He turned afterwards and crawled towards me. “I said to finish your food…” I murmured, feeling myself dazed.

He dumped the junk of blood and meaty organs at my feet, then crawled through it to get to my lap between my raised knees. He leaned on my chest with his torso and cheek, looking up at me. “Want,” he mumbled. “You. You. Want.” He lifted his little hand to my mouth to smear blood over my lips and chin. I captured his wrist with my hand, then captured two of his fingers with my lips and suckled firmly. For what was once probably a pathetic little village boy, he sure had some intuitive moments now. He sure knew how to pluck the right strings on me. I think I had created a monster.

I tugged his hand away from my mouth. “Go finish your food,” I said to him huskily, “or I’ll put you back in the grave I raised you from…”

He stared at me with emotionless eyes for a moment, then leaned in slowly and placed a sloppy, messy kiss half on my lips. “Thank you, master,” he whispered before dragging himself back to the shell of the man near us to finish devouring all of the man’s body. I sighed and leaned my head back against the wall behind me after draping my scarred arms over my knees. For a moment I wondered: Was the Dark Mother proud?

But then I knew; she was always proud of her favorite son.

too short! need more!

Seconded

The skeleton that I had Raised previously sauntered towards me. When it came into reach, I lifted a hand to stroke its dirty, marred skull with my fingers and nails. It still had a few leathery pieces of flesh hanging from its bones here and there, but mostly it was a complete skeleton; hollow sockets, empty skull, bare ribs and arms and legs. I traced the skeleton’s jaw and then its perpetual grin and its teeth with an index finger. Half-satisfied, I traced my thumbs along the skeleton’s brow bone. A light cut without much blood spilt will ensure that a skeleton is Raised rather than a zombie. Skeletons were frail, but easier to control and a lot less hassle to keep up with.

Roderick shifted close to my thigh. He appeared animatedly jealous, though it wasn’t jealousy since Roderick had no initiative for emotion. As a minion, he was instinctively protective of his master, me, because, well… if I died, he would return to the ground. As I lowered my left hand to place it atop of Roderick’s head, a feminine voice sneered, “My son, you were not at the games…”

Slowly, I lifted my gaze up past the skeleton’s face towards the haunting presence that strode for the three of us. The woman there was paler than white, with pitch black eyes and hair to match them. She was clad in a robe and hood the color of the shadows she emerged from. “I was not aware that my attendance was needed,” I responded, “especially since I was enacting punishment for you on the traitors who constantly defy you… and you… you…” I waved my free hand in a small circle near my shoulder for emphasis.

“You are always sought after during the games, Adelram, because you enjoy the most blood play,” she cooed before her face fell flat. “You mock my penalties,” she said suddenly with seriousness in her tone. It wasn’t a question. “Perhaps I shall have to give you your own punishment for missing the games and for making fun of how I go about my business…”

I leaned forward just enough to be able to place my chin on one of the skeleton’s bony shoulders so that I would be looking back over the skeleton towards the woman. I inhaled the musky scent of death and dirt and decay on its neck and skull. My arms looped around its middle, fingers caressing and playing with the vertebrate and knobs of its spine. Occasionally, I would stroke the back of its head and neck as if in admiration. “As you wish, Dark Mother,” I said finally.

“And that’s it, Adelram? My, are you tired tonight, my son? Was that traitor you obliterated really that troublesome? Poor dear…” The Dark Mother whisked the distance between us closed. Her arms slipped around the skeleton and me, pulling the three of us into a captured embrace. She leaned her own chin on the skeleton’s other shoulder. From her position she could see my backside and Roderick behind me. “I will dice your insides and decay your flesh while your little pet watches…” she threatened in a whisper.

I bit the edge of my tongue in restraint as a chill of anticipation rolled over my skin. Her ‘punishments’ came rather frequently and despite her wants for it to be ‘punishment’, it was not. I think it was obvious to say that we both greatly enjoyed these ‘reprimands’… perhaps her more so since I was merely out for bloodshed and not really sex. “Do you promise?” I whispered lowly.

Her icy hands were then on my lower back, fingers shifting up under my Dread armor and under shirt to stroke at my sickly-looking flesh. “I promise,” she assured me. “You will have holes in you galore, all for your little slave to poke and prod… and maybe eat, too?”

“No,” I said in a sigh. “Roderick has already eaten.” My eyes were somewhat heavy and my mind lulled so much that my head drooped lazily on the skeleton’s shoulder. “But he always does like to watch.” The first scorch of pain I felt along my backside snapped me instantly from my daze. With a groan, I threw my head back as my body rolled into an arch. My fingers curled into the skeleton’s spine as if I were bracing myself. Pleasure spread down through my thighs like warm liquid, then it spread back up to mingle with the sting of the pain that was my lower back splitting apart from the Dark Mother’s decaying fingers. I attempted to swallow, but it only came out as a gurgle of pleasure. I could feel her probing my insides with her fingers, caressing my muscle and then the cracking bones. Roderick had latched onto the back of my thigh and knee, his lips peeled back into a snarl.

“My,” the Dark Mother said, her fingers faltering and then disappearing from my back. “You should surely teach your pet some manners, Adelram. He has a nasty little bark…” The wound I had been given slowly began to knit shut. The Dark Mother reached under the skeleton’s arm and grasped Roderick’s jaw. “Or I could teach him for you… decay that pretty little mouth right off his fa—”

I quickly grabbed her wrist and shoved her arm away. “No,” I hissed hoarsely, brows furrowed. I was both greedy for the twisted affections she gave me and much too proud of the work I had done in Raising Roderick from the grave, so perfect and nearly human. “No, you won’t.” I looked up at her face as she stared me down for making a move against her. “…Give it to me instead,” I insisted lowly.

But her arms moved away from me and the skeleton altogether. “Oh, Adelram,” she said in an amused tone, “you are so sly and wicked, and I love it.” She took a step back and then turned around. “If I wasn’t myself, I would say that you cared a lot about your pet...” She cut those charcoal eyes back over a shoulder and past her hood at me. “You’ll get more when the time comes, my son, trust me… It might be much more then you can handle…” She looked ahead and then glided off for the way she had entered.

“Hardly,” I drawled after her fleeing form. “I’ll be waiting… Dark Mother… as always…” I lowered my head some, eyes watching her disappear from view under my brows and over the skeleton’s shoulder.

Awesome!This world you're created is really interesting. I'd like to know more of it.

Thanks. The next part will be up soon. I've had this muse and his story somewhat mapped out, but I'm typing as I go along.

I agree with the above Anon: this story's world is pretty interesting. Perhaps something more gruesome lies in wait? More plz.

Out of nowhere, molten liquid gushed around everything, consumed it completely. Fire and brimstone were rampant; the epitome of Hell. People, humans, ran screaming, their bodies charred, their flesh scorched and burning endlessly. The smell of melting skin and meat and fried hair wafted through my nostrils. I inhaled it and it churned my stomach. Slowly, I closed my eyes to be one with the darkness, and then reopened them. I glided forward and along, blood pouring after me on the ground, following me as I went. I watched survivors laugh as they doused the flaming wretched with water, only to split them open afterwards from groin to neck. Intestines were strung after the marauders as they ran along in the clutches of madness.

At the end of the trail I glided on, I stopped. A large pit had been dug, a pit fit for the half-bodies and the empty shells that had been salvaged. A fire had been made in the pit, fueled by the carcasses of the dead. Around the edges, the marauders danced. All were nude aside from pale masks with the grinning faces of skeletons and the horns of demons.

Deep, loud drums began their song of praise of the destruction. Each beat rumbled through my stiff, Unliving heart, encouraging my own inner insanity. I longed for it, for the chaos and the suffering. I longed to likewise run my hands over the brittle flesh of the seared. “Come!” the demon-humans squealed as they violated the bodies of the burnt virgins. “Join… us…!” They repeatedly raped the bottom half of any women they found and I squirmed. They fingered the sockets of children’s eyes and I squirmed. They shared intercourse rights of the hole over the hearts of men and I squirmed. The drums beat to the rhythm of the lust of death and sex. “King! Come!” they beckoned with amused voices simultaneously.

I was nearly with them, joining them, helping, living, being their king, but the final, deafening beat of the drum snapped my eyes open. Even in the darkness of the room, I could make out two dark and seducing eyes gazing down at me. I swallowed back the dream reluctantly.

“My Adelram,” the Dark Mother cooed, “what were you dreaming of? Your face looked so deliciously pained there at the very end…” She ran her fingers down the side of my face.

“The same nightmares I always dream,” I whispered. I heard Roderick sigh softly under the covers to my side. Neither he nor I needed sleep, but there was only so much havoc we could wreak in a day. We had gotten in a schedule of rest to give us something to do, and I rather enjoyed the nightmares that I had. I assumed Roderick had dreams of devouring the bodies of mortals, but I couldn’t be sure. “Pain and destruction. Death. Anguish. Decay.” I sighed.

The Dark Mother straddled my lap and settled, her palms placed on my bare chest in order to support her upper half. “How invigorating. And speaking of decay…” She leaned over and down near my face, lowering her voice to a whisper. “It’s time for your punishment.”

I mmm’d softly, the pleasant smile on my face sharply rising to something more twisted. “Don’t wake Roderick,” I warned. “It’s hard to get him calmed down for sleep…”

“Don’t worry…” She clamped my jaws between her index finger and thumb. “You should make sure you don’t wake Roderick…” Leisurely, she ran her cold tongue over the skin just below my bottom lip and I bit back a groan.

Her hands began to roam easily over my exposed, tanned and sickly grayish torso, feeling my ribs roughly, feeling my collar bone, my muscles, my waist. Despite my wish for restraint, my body was now folding to a new call: her, her touch. It arched gracefully up into the palms, rolling to follow their movement along me. I would have been lying if I had of said I wasn’t aroused, wasn’t nearly hard already and none of it was because she was touching me. I grew excited beneath the sheets because of what lay ahead, what she promised me in the end. She could touch me, lick me, suck me, ride me and none of it would ever phase me, but her promise for punishment… that could make me hard in an instant.

“Do you want to feel my insides, Adelram?” she whispered into my ear. Her hips rolled against my lap, thighs tightening around my waist. I curled my fingers into the top of her legs. “Would you like to open me up?” Her tongue traced a wet trail along my jaw, over my parted lips. “Feel the slit of the cut as you knife your way into me? Feel the blood trickle over your fingers?”

I groaned deeply. “Shut up,” I hissed instinctively through teeth gritted in pleasure. “No… shut up…” My skin rippled from the blissful chill that ran through me. My fingers curled and uncurled in her legs, then her waist as it bobbled on my rigid lap.

But she was pleased enough, for now, with my sudden reaction. The fingers of one of her hands dipped down under the covers to stroke the groove of my hip with her nails. Her other hand’s fingers grasped my short, platinum hair roughly and yanked. I couldn’t help but to groan. “Just do it,” I spat, eyes squinted shut from the electric warmth that spread through my body. She yanked again at my hair, and I made a small noise in my throat.

“You’ll get it when I get ready to give it, greedy son,” she hissed. She leaned down towards me again. “Maybe I’ll start with your manhood first…” The words roused a inhaled hiss from me and she grinned in the dark.

“You couldn’t, or you wouldn’t have anything to ride, just like the little sluts in Madam Claw’s harem…” My half-glowing eyes flickered up to catch her face, but she slammed my head back into the bed before I could see her expression, her palm covering my eyes and nose. Softly, I grunted under the hand. “Dar—”

“Silence,” she growled, though the air I got from her was playful and nowhere near as angry as she could truly get. Her hand slowly ghosted over my face, down my neck, then paused at the beginning of my chest between my collar bones. She pressed the palm lightly on my chest and curled her fingers just a little. There was a smirk tugging the corners of her lips upward.

I threw my gaze back up to her once more. I had known what was coming before it came, despite not being able to completely realize it at first. Her thighs tightened against my sides and all at once a splitting, burning pain pierced me dead-center in the chest. Gritting my teeth and clenching my jaw, I arched sharply upwards as the flesh on my chest wrinkled and melted away, as the muscles beneath shriveled and blackened, as the rib bones below splinted and cracked. A howl caught in my throat and rumbled there loudly and deeply, unable to escape past my lips. “More,” I croaked in a daze, “more.”

“Where is your little bejeweled knife now, Adelram?” she inquired, curling her fingers around the edge of the wound on my chest that poured buckets of blood as if she planned to rip my chest wide open by brute force. “Where is the little knife you’d love to use to cut me open? To probe my flesh, to cut it, to slice it, to pierce it? Hm?” She stroked the hole of a wound in my chest as I lay there and babbled my pleasure.

More. There were no words to describe how much more I wanted. Not more of her or her body, no… not in that sense. I longed so painfully for more of her affliction. I longed so painfully to run my fingers up through the cavity of her torso and feel all the gory, disgusting, yet beautiful parts of her insides. “More,” was all I could manage again. I longed so painfully to cut her open starting from her thighs. My hips rolled slowly against her, instinctively trying for a good stroking rhythm against my hardened length. And she left me open, allowing the world to see the rise and fall of my lungs and the beating of my heart, the few organs left untouched by the decay. She left me open, allowing me to sink back into that void of ecstasy that only I knew, left with nothing but my ragged, labored breaths.

She purred, though it was nowhere near like the purr of a cat. The purr of a demon was the only noise that would ever come from the Dark Mother’s lips. “Look at you…” she whispered. “So eager to be played with, to be violated and abused. Don’t you know this is bad for you health?”

“I haven’t been alive for ages and ages… Now, give me more…” And finally to my beck and call, she gave me what she and I both wanted. Being so paralyzed with desire, it seemed as if she moved so fast, so inhuman to mount me. The feeling of her cold orifice enveloping me did nothing compared to the fingers digging inside of the wound to my chest. With each twist and turn of her nails, I groaned and squirmed beneath her.

I suddenly felt something more wet and more warm than my blood on my upper arm and shoulder. Panting heavily from the decay and the writhing woman on my lap, I turned my head enough to throw my eyes in the direction of the new sensation on my skin—only to find that it was Roderick, wide awake and craving. “Masterrr,” he whispered over my arm, latching his mouth to it and suckling. His large, boyish eyes were rolled up to meet mine, his fingers curling around my wrist and the place by his mouth.

“No, Roderick, don—” I started, but was interrupted by the tantalizing feeling of Roderick making an impression of his teeth into my arm. He bit through the skin and down into the muscle, suckling and probing the laceration with his tongue. “Nngh, Roder—”

The Dark Mother grabbed my face by my jaws and turned it back so I was forced to look up at her. “You woke him up, so let him snack on you if he wants.” I was only able to give a grunt of protest through my teeth. If this kept up, then Roderick would think he could chew on me as he pleased… you had to keep a dog in order. “You look so exquisite all mangled up and open,” she said in a hushed tone. Gently, she lifted herself up off me and then rode me back down hard, a pleased moan falling from her lips. The jolt rocked the precious organs in the open wound, splitting the seam down just a tad farther and causing me to hiss in pleasure.

But now I had other matters to worry about: her hands were traveling my body again, searching for more places to decay and torture. Her movements atop me only increased in velocity, her voice becoming deeper and more primal with its noises. She ripped me new holes down my thighs, over a knee, up a hip, down an arm. She played with my innards. She desecrated my bones by mistreating them with her fingers and nails. My body had become her play toy and she abused it, gladly. Total bliss and satisfaction coursed through me, enveloped me, and lost me. There was no bed anymore, no Dark Mother, no Roderick, no room; it was only me and my body, me and the decayed bits, me and my blood. My moaning had reached peaked yells, though I didn’t hear them. The only sound that washed by my ears was the thumping of my exposed heart and lungs and the pounding of the pain at the edges of the wounds. The energy of climax that had built up did not center in my groin, like one would expect. It was placed neatly like a little round, warm ball in the center of the gaping hole in my chest. With each prod and jab of fingers into the wounds, into my body, feeling me, caressing me, I was losing myself more and more. I could hear the drums from my previous dream. I could hear dark voices beckoning me along, calling me out.

And then it came and went just like that.

So suddenly that it was as if it had never even happened at all. Vertigo had set in and then dissipated, leaving me muddled and looking down my body for the scene that had unfolded while I was in ecstasy. The Dark Mother had her fill and was missing from my lap. She sat between my legs facing me, but with her own legs thrown up over my healing thighs. Spread wide, she had gathered up my boy-slave and was having him devour her below, what I had left in her and all. She stroked his head comfortingly, reassuringly, and then slid a sly, coy smile in my direction. I somewhat hoped that Roderick would start eating her as payback, but I knew he wouldn’t.

A brief, content sigh escaped my throat and I sunk back into the blood-soaked bed, spread eagle. After a moment, Roderick was crawling between my legs and up on my chest so he could perch there. He peered down at me with stoic eyes and I looked back at him. Then he went to watching the hole in my chest close back up. Licking his lips, he settled his head down on my newly formed chest and draped over me like the child he was. I slipped my arms around him and stroked the back of his head. As the rest of the wounds healed, I half-missed the sound of my raspy breath and throbbing heart.

Wow. So foreceful. So beautiful. You, sir, are an artist.

I've read from alot of famous novelists and writers, and you have the potential to be better than every one of them. The way you told the story was captivating, and you can't really just read one sentence of your work and then go about your business.

I've read your story twice, and frankly, I'm amazed you have so much talent. You really, really should get an agent and look into publishing. Alot of people are against the sensuality of gore, but you could very well play a big part in the evolution of writing.

I myself find scars, pain and torture beautiful and sensual, and you played this along very well. If this was published and to be made into a movie, it could have a much more devoted following than Lestat and The Crow. Not one of them could make pain seem as erotic as you've done, so this is my feedback.

Please write more!

Yes!! Great job!!! (I wish I have a boy-pet)