b l o o d s u c k e r

I'm laying upside down in the bathtub. My head is sitting in the sink behind you, my blood lining the faucet. You're kneeling down, heels still flat, to clear our hair from the drain before you start the water. You lower yourself onto your knees and admire me, your work. Your fingers trace squares and rectangles along the white skin of my back, one hand gripping the lip of the tub. My blood, what's left of it, is pooling into my stomach. The skin is turning purple, but the color drains as the warm water touches it. My eyes follow you in the mirror, helpless.

You pull on your rubber gloves before you start scrubbing my body, pushing the grayish mix of soap and waste off to the far side of the tub. You hum as you work, your lips pursing slightly as my hands float up to greet you. My mouth is hanging open. You can't hear me. You turn the faucet up and cup your hands in the dull red water, holding it to your face. More blood is leaking from the hole in my throat as you turn off the water.

I stare at your hands as you pull your gloves off, the yellow plastic still glistening with rust-colored soap bubbles. You throw the gloves beside my head and sit on the toilet, still admiring the glow of my pale skin in the bathwater. You reach over and grab my head. You cradle me between your thighs, smiling at me, as you turn me to look into your face. I love you. You place me on the back of your toilet before standing up again.

You start to strip, leaving your clothes in a perfect square pile on the floor. My tongue, shrunken and dry, is drooping out of my lips, the taste of the bath soap in the air filling my throat. Your naked body looks jaundiced and sick under the incandescent light. When you hold your hands to my face, though, I can feel their softness and warmth. You bend over to move your clothes. A trickle of blood escapes from your crotch before racing down to your ankle. You're smiling at me as you turn around. You angle your foot to catch the drop of blood, letting it pool around your toes. You gently place my head on the ground before dragging your sole hard across my tongue, streaking it with your blood.

I'm on the ground when you get into the bath, careful that you don't jostle my body too much as you sit down. I can hear the overflow valve gurgling as you push your body under mine. You're holding my body in yours, our weight blending together as my blood spills onto your stomach. You dig your fingers into my armpits and slowly turn me over, the water splashing into my eyes, until I'm where you want me. You lazily drape one arm over the edge of the tub and grab a handful of my hair before dropping me into the water, my head floating between your feet. I buoy up and down as water trickles through my mouth.

You run your hands across my chest, your long fingernails tickling my cold skin. You're staring into my eyes as you touch me, silently grinning as my body reveals its true purpose to you. Your soft fingers, pruning a little in the warm water, slowly travel down my stomach, drawing concentric spirals in my hair. I'm getting an erection. You're pulling the blood that pooled in my stomach down to my crotch. I can't help it. You're smiling, giddy at the prison of my unchanging face. My arms hang limp beside you in the water, powerless to relieve my discomfort.

You use your foot to move my head closer to you, grabbing it with one hand while the other moves further down my waist. You play with me. As you move my head from one post to another, your oily black hair fills my mouth. The wound on my neck is leaving wet, red kiss marks on your breasts. The more you play with me, the more blood collects on your chest and in my cock. You let my head roll own my chest and rest against my crotch, your hand disappearing under the water. After a second it surfaces, cupping a handful of dark red mush you've gathered from inside you.

My cock is agonizingly hard now, overfull with blood from my stomach. You smirk as you grip one hand around it, my body unable to squirm or resist. You press the palm of your other hand against my face, staining me with you. The heavy chunks of coagulated blood adhere to my hair and teeth. The stench - like rust and mildew - mixes with your breath in the open cavern of my mouth. Your blood is sliding down my face, floating on the surface of the water. You squeeze my cock harder, trapping even more blood into my swollen crotch. You open your mouth and let your tongue fall loose, your head hanging slack on your neck. Your hair is grazing the surface of the water, like a rope from my body to your mouth. A drop of saliva falls from your tongue into the water. The ripple makes me cum. My dead body is straining uncontrollably against your hands, unable to resist. My sperm splatters the crown of my skull, flowing into the blood you painted onto me. My cock sputters uselessly before falling limp again.

You lift your head and smile at me, admiring all you've done. You cup my face in your hands and draw me close. Our eyes are inches apart, your breath flowing through my skull. I can only look at you, love you, admire you, but you see through me, past my body and my self. I don't exist, but I need you anyway. You open your mouth and crane your neck back, danging my head over you, before running your tongue from the base of my neck up to my scalp. Your blood and my cum are smeared indistinguishably across your lips. Then you drop my head back into the water, waiting to start again.

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2025