The Monsters' Favorite

It Left a Burnt Taste in Your Mouth

   It was getting easier and easier with time, though it feels like an entire lifetime has passed since the first. You did try to fight it, really. You swear to a god you no longer believe in that you tried your fucking best to not succumb to the influences of the Entity. But, in the end... you failed. How couldn't you? You're trapped for, most likely, the rest of eternity here, wherever here is, servicing killers for as long as the Entity sees fit. A part of you wanted to be upset. To be angry. To feel something other than ecstatic joy at the realization that you're going to be the Entity's breeding mare forever. But you don't. You couldn't be happier, and you wouldn't do a damn thing to change it.

The Nightmare, Freddy Krueger, had taken a particular interest in you as of late. All it took was seeing you in that short little dress of yours to send him over the edge into a frenzy. There was always something about seeing cute little ladies in those brightly coloured pieces that drove him wild. Especially since it just barely covers what was required of it.

What made him make his initial move was seeing you bending down over an open window frame with your ass sticking up in the air, the curve of your bare cheeks partially exposed like the dirty slut that you are. How could the dream demon possibly resist slapping you as hard as he could with his ungloved hand, nearly pissing himself with laughter as you fall face first out the window with an undignified squeal. To be fair, you were relatively unharmed, but you still fell from a two story window and landed flat on your face. Krueger was an asshole, he knew that, and he loved every second of it. Especially when it comes to making you beg.

Krueger was lounging on an old, worn-down couch, resting his chin on the palm of his gloved hand, staring down at your kneeling form in front of him with a shit eating grin plastered on his disfigured face. The shrill scraping of his metal claws being rubbed together intermittently echoes in the sparse house that he had brought you too. He laid one of his calves across his knee, making him look even more condescending than he already was, somehow. You stared at his well worn pants, struggling to contain the sheer embarrassment radiating off of your body. It's a pointless endeavor, given how well the dream demon can read other's emotions.

"So, what'll be, doll face? I'm sittin here, waiting on ya to make up your mind. Don't ya think it's a bit rude makin me wait like this?" He emphasized his words with a twitch of his clawed fingers, the scraping sound causing jolts of pleasure to shoot down your spine. Worrying the helm of your dress, you swallow thickly and force your eyes to meet his.

"I-I know... I'll- I'm sorry... I'm gonna do it, you know..." You mumbled, shifting uncomfortably under his leering gaze. He chuckles darkly, placing his leg down and spreading them apart, just so that there's barely enough room for you to slide in between them. Krueger uses his clawed fingers to brush the hair from your face. You can feel the cold bite of his blades graze against your cheek, not quite enough to break the skin, but more than enough to leave a reddening trail in its wake.

"Hmm... C'mon, doll. Ya know ya want it, so come 'ere and show me how bad ya need it." Your cheek stings as one of the blades finally breaks your thin skin, leaving a small, scarlet trail in its wake. You shuffle closer, until his thighs are on either side of your head. You can feel his body heat seeping through his clothes, almost too hot to bare.

With trembling fingers, you place your palms flat on his clothed thighs, gently rubbing up and down while you attempt to get your racing heart under control. The sharp nails tapping the top of your head cause your toes to curl. Hurry up, bitch. You're making me impatient. Swallowing the rising lump in your throat, you start to unbutton his pants, earning you a mocking chuckle.