A Johnny Slaughter X Female Reader Story: The Tracker and His Prey

Chapter 3: A Taste of Johnny

(Warning! There is blood. It also gets a little hot up in here if you know what I mean. No actual smut yet.😉)

You watched with a mixture of mild disgust and intrigue as Johnny tasted your blood. There was an unsettling allure in the way he stared at you while he licked your blood from his fingers. "Hope I taste good," you quipped sarcastically, rolling your eyes in an attempt to maintain some semblance of composure.

He leaned in so close that you could see your blood at the corners of his lips, and your cheeks flushed at his proximity. It was an unusual situation, and despite the danger, you found yourself embarrassed by the attention of this striking man. Johnny, perceptive as ever, noticed your gaze and leaned closer to whisper in your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "Looks like you're curious about how it tastes, Darlin'."

The man with slicked-back black hair began to peel off his sleeveless black shirt, sliding it over his head to reveal his impressively muscular physique. His finely chiseled abs and sculpted torso were on full display. His complexion, was surprisingly pale, adding an enigmatic allure to his handsome features.

Your initial disgust began to wane, replaced by a strange curiosity. It was clear that Johnny was unpredictable, and you were powerless in this situation. His next move, however, pushed your boundaries. With his knife, he made an incision on his collarbone, and you couldn't help but regard him as if he were crazy for cutting himself. Yet, your disgust morphed into a strange fascination.

Gently, he traced his fingers along the fresh cut, smearing blood onto his fingertips. Then, Johnny took his pointer finger and applied the blood to your lips. "Lick it off," he demanded. Your heart raced, and you were torn between defiance and the inexplicable allure of his command.

As a sense of resignation washed over you, you realized that you were in a life-or-death situation, and perhaps complying with Johnny's unusual demands could buy you more time. With that thought in mind, you met his gaze, a mixture of defiance and curiosity in your eyes, as you slowly obeyed his command. Your tongue moved across your lips, tasting his blood.

To your surprise, Johnny's blood was not as repulsive as you had imagined. It held an unexpected freshness, providing a small respite to your dry throat, which had suffered from your earlier screams and the choking you endured. It was a strange moment of contradiction, where survival instincts outweighed your revulsion, and you found yourself adapting to the unthinkable to gain an edge in this dangerous game.

Johnny regarded you with a newfound curiosity, his usual victims never having complied with his demands, especially of such an unusual nature. Intrigued by your willingness to follow his lead, he couldn't help but wonder just how far he could push his demands in his twisted game.

Johnny leaned his imposing figure closer to you, his body pressing against yours, bringing your face to the level of the fresh incision on his collarbone, just centimeters from your face. His tone held a mixture of authority and veiled threat as he issued his demand. "Clean up this mess now, Darlin. We can't have the other family members thinking I'm hurt," he insinuated, hinting that you should use your mouth to lick off the blood from his collarbone.

Your hesitation was palpable, but Johnny grew impatient, his curiosity for you waning. "If you ain't gonna do it, I might as well kill you n..." His voice trailed off abruptly as he felt your mouth on the cut on his collarbone. An involuntary shiver coursed through him at the unexpected sensation.

You had made a choice, a grim one, to do whatever it took to prolong your life, even if it meant performing acts you'd never have imagined. Your mouth covered part of his collarbone, and you tentatively licked the cut. His blood, strangely, continued to soothe your dry throat, a deceptive comfort that allowed you to momentarily forget what you were doing. Johnny pressed himself against you even harder, the undeniable evidence of his arousal pressing against your leg. It was a disturbing reminder of the twisted pleasure he derived from your submission.

The sensation of your warm breath caressing his skin sent an unexpected shiver down Johnny's spine. The taste of your tongue delicately lapping away the blood from his wound triggered goosebumps to prickle all over his body. Despite his efforts to remain composed, he couldn't stifle a soft, involuntary moan that escaped his lips when you began to suck on his skin.

As you continued to lick and taste Johnny's blood, you noticed his heartbeat had accelerated significantly from when you first began this unusual act. Thoughts swirled in your mind, pondering how many other girls he had subjected to such horrors in this basement. How many had experienced this sickening ritual with him? You couldn't help but realize that Johnny was the kind of person who craved intensity and dominance. Perhaps, if you displayed confidence and gave him what he yearned for, you could buy yourself more time - enough to plan an escape.

With your throat still parched, you made a bold decision. You bit into his chest, tearing his skin in a bold move to draw more blood. You surmised that Johnny wouldn't object; in fact, he might relish it. His gasp and shudder of surprise as he began to back away was expected, but you didn't relent. Instead, you sucked and lapped at the fresh wound. Johnny hesitated, torn between pulling away and succumbing to the strange sensation. Eventually, he leaned back into you, allowing you to continue, and it was apparent that for him, this was like foreplay.

When you finished, you left a conspicuous hickey around the wound on his chest, your strategy clear: in this dire situation, you were willing to use whatever tactics necessary to manipulate him into keeping you alive longer.