dieciseis

XERXES

I am standing on the outside wall of a residential building. Somewhere between the working class part and the part of town where Kalota lives. I'm not alone. Platura is here too. Not that I see it, but it's there. My shadow of the night He's actually always with me. At that time I took care of him. Got him from a similar neighborhood to where Kalota is from. I saw its potential. that he is like me Dark and yet closed enough that no one sees the evil. We are both the same. At least almost. Platura was poor. My wife Magda asked me at the time whether all good spirits had left me when I took him home. She has a say in a lot and I like to include her in my decisions. Magda has a vision that few people possess. But with Platura I didn't let anyone talk to me. I wanted him by my side. He should become the shadow that everyone fears and yet nobody sees. A ghost. And he has become.

The same way I held on to him back then, I feel the same way about Kalota. In fact, I can't even explain what draws me to her so much. At first I thought it was her inviting lips. But that's not true. Even I realized that. And just because I want to keep her, I should go. I should just turn away and let them continue on their way unmolested. But I can not. There's the fight inside me again. The one who wants to release the animal in me. The problem is that I'm afraid I'll actually destroy Kalota with it. And I don't mean physically. She's unlikely to die from another rape. The body is hard. It can take a beating and make us humans endure things that few can imagine. I know that from experience. I've been to torture before. But what the body can do, the mind doesn't have to be able to do. Many souls are so vulnerable. So infinitely filigree that I sometimes have the feeling that a firm grip is enough to break it.

And with Kalota, I can't tell how her soul is. The problem is that I need these. What good is a woman when the fire in my eyes is gone? Nothing. An empty shell to play with is like someone handing me an empty wine glass. Maybe nice to look at, but boring. So I should be careful - I should feel my way around slowly and see how Kalota is doing. But I find it difficult. She seems so strong. And so vulnerable. An incredibly intoxicating blend. But also dangerous. At least for her. If she's only wearing a mask and she's already cracked inside, I could enlarge that little crack and her soul would burst. But I guess I have to take the risk.

I do not want to go. So far I've been careful with her. At least for the most part. That she had to give me a blowjob is part of her job. I wouldn't call that excessive. It was different with the blows of the whip. That's where I lost myself. But I didn't feel that. I was holding the handle of the crop, not her body. And that should change now. I take a deep breath and enjoy the coolness of the night. It's good that it's cold. My blood seems to be boiling with anticipation. That's a welcome change.

Footsteps sound and echo almost heavily through the silence. And now my senses are heightened. Like always when I'm waiting to mug someone. This isn't the first time I've stood in the black just waiting for my target to appear. And it won't be the last time either. Nevertheless, no habituation occurs. The adrenaline is pumped into my body. Makes my senses sharper. I love that intoxicating feeling. It's the mix of the forbidden and not getting caught. Nobody can see what I'm doing here. Then my reputation as a gracious king would quickly be lost. Still, I can't manage not to play in public. The kick is too strong.

And as Kalota scurries past me, I push off the wall. She won't recognize me. Even if she turns around, she will only see a figure in a loose cloak. The hood ensures that my face is also protected from the shallow light of the moon. And so I take my time. Make my shoes scrape the floor extra loud. I want her to hear me. I want to see her turn around in a panic and make her blood run cold.

Kalota. I told her I'm going to be her nightmare. And that will be me. I want to show her how sweet life is and at the same time let her feel how great suffering can be. How close beauty and ugliness are. She will experience all of this through me. By the hand that feeds them and can crush them.

She falters slightly when she notices my approach. Follow her into the alleys. And she shrugs her shoulders a little. That is interesting. In the room of the tavern she always tightens them. That just shows how insecure I'm making her right now. That I really was right. She is a rape victim. And I'm sorry she has to go through this again. But there is no other way. She's too stubborn for that. It's interesting that she herself made sure that she had to live through this nightmare again. At least halfway. So I quicken my pace again and now I'm really close to her. It's almost as if her smell creeps into my nostrils and it's probably a miracle that she doesn't hear my heavy breathing.

The animal in me rages, wants to ram its claws into her narrow back and drag her to the ground. But that would be too easy. I don't want it easy. And then the moment has come. She looks over her shoulder, looking straight into the blackness of my hood, and yet she won't see my twisted grin. Only the small white cloud of my breath is visible to them. Immediately she widens her eyes slightly, tenses. Then her lower lip trembles.

"Please don't," she whispers, but her voice breaks. But she doesn't turn away from me immediately. Can't take her eyes off me for a moment. And only after a few seconds does she dive forward. But too late. I don't even have to start the race. I'm too close to her for that. So all I have to do is reach out and grab the dress. It has to be fast and efficient. She mustn't scream. Not that anyone would intervene. Hardly anyone would do that. But I don't want spectators.

So I yank Kalota back with a jerk. She crashes into me and I already have a glimpse of her side profile. Notice how the mouths open. But before the outcry can fill the streets, I put my hand over her mouth. What a pity. I love looking at those lips. But this time, I guess something else will get my blood pumping. And above all, it has to be fast. I can't give Kalota time to think. Then she would probably recognize me. My cloak smells musty. But it's only a matter of time before my own scent fights through and reveals who's overpowering her. That means she must not think. A good quality of panic. This displaces an incredible amount. Actually, that's for protection. That people don't have to bother with uninteresting influences, but concentrate on the essentials. That exactly one of these supposedly uninteresting influences would show Kalota that she won't be raped again by a complete stranger is just another irony of fate.

She immediately rears up, but Kalota is far too weak to do anything against me. Her muffled scream rings out, letting me inhale deeply. This is real panic. The way I love it and hate it at the same time. But I can't pursue it any further. I don't have them where I want them yet. So I take her with me. It's almost amusing to watch her punch the air. Completely uncontrolled. The hand doesn't even come close to me. But she doesn't notice it herself. Driven by the instinct to survive. And she will. But she shouldn't know yet.

And so I drag her into a small alley. And no sooner are we shielded from the light of the moon than I grab her by the hair and press her against the wall of some house. I just hope the humans are already asleep in it, otherwise they'll probably hear the dull thump caused by Kalota's resistance. Again and again she hits the wall, wants to pull away. And she can't even begin to free herself from it. So I can just keep going without paying too much attention to her. With one hand of mine still holding her against the house and my other hand intercepting her noises, I wedge a knee between her legs. Again she makes a choked sound. Again, there is absolute despair in it. And again the beast in me thirsts for more. It never gets enough. Only when the heart stops beating. Only then will I have peace from the raging storm inside me. Otherwise never.

****

But Kalota fights back. With all her might she squeezes her thighs together. Gasps softly into my hand. The warm breath feels good. Almost hot. Somehow her fear seems to be palpable even in this. But I can't enjoy it right now. I have to be able to act better. So I squeeze them even more against the wall of the house. Press my body to hers. And then finally I can release a hand. She could smell me better now. Am I so close to her? But I do not care. I want her to open her legs, I can touch the shame one more time.

And so I roughly reach for her inner thighs. There's one thing I've learned in all this time. Pinching may sound harmless, but it doesn't have to be. At least if it is done really efficiently. There just needs to be some of the meat between your fingers. Not just skin. And this is how I do it. I pinch with all my might. Tug and twist that delicate spot. And that freaks Kalota out. Again, muted tones manage to fill the alley. And even then, the pain is clearly audible. She rebels even more. Really squirms beneath me. Pushes her ass against my crotch and that's enough to make my hardness swell all over again. Those uncontrolled movements. The little trembling of the butt only increases my excitement. It's not like the inn this time. When she let her ass slide almost energetically over my hardness. No, this is something animalistic. Exactly what I need so badly not to go completely insane.

And so I dig my fingers even deeper into the tender skin of the thigh. Then finally she no longer manages to press them together. She's weak for just a second. But I don't need more. I immediately wedge my knee between her legs. Kick the shin so she's spread even more in front of me. The dress is still between me and the body part of my desire, but that is not an obstacle either. I grab the heavy fabric and pull it up. And the more Kalota's skin is exposed, the more her resistance fades.

The muffled screams ebb into sobs. Your body trembles beneath me. Trembles with the deep fear of another rape. It's hard for me not to hum contentedly. But that would give me away. So I just press my crotch tight against her lower back. She must notice my stiff member. And even as I take a deep breath and just enjoy the moment, the first tear hits my hand on her mouth. I would love to look her in the face. But that would take too much time. Instead, I tug at the dress again and finally the light skin of her butt shimmers towards me. The welts are still visible on it.

For many, the bruises and red streaks are probably a deterrent. Yes, many would say that these marks destroy a woman's beautiful, even complexion. But that's not how it is with me. For me this is one of the most beautiful sights. Right after the pained face when a woman sits down after the beating. And so I can't help but grab it tightly. The soft flesh of the ass immediately yields to my fingers. Fits my hand and even if it's stupid, I'll hit it. Powerful. I want my handprint on her butt. I want everyone to see that she's mine. The loud clapping echoes heavily in the alley and I just hope nobody really noticed it.

Still, I can't resist hitting the same spot again. Kalota gasps. Jerks violently at the impact and another whimper sounds. One that combines fear and pain. And that's tearing down my beast's cage. From now on, I no longer have full control. My heritage demands more. I can almost hear my father's sneering voice. How he tells me that women are only good for raping. Someday I will understand that too.

Normally I would probably let go of Kalota and go now. But I can not. That trembling of hers ties me in place. It shows that she is in absolute panic. The ones she froze. And without being able to control it, I open my pants. My cock immediately pops out, slamming into her ass, leaving a wet trail on her skin. I stare spellbound at the sight in front of me. How my hardness rests on her pelvis. The gathered fabric of the dress. The slight trembling of the shoulders. And Kalota's messy hair. The bond that was supposed to keep them in check is no longer there. It must have been lost somewhere. But I like that. It just makes the whole sight even more perfect.

So I venture a step further and grab my shaft. Slide it between her thighs. As a result, I have to bend my knees slightly and now Kalota should feel my breath on the crook of her neck. Hear how difficult this is and, above all, recognize the desire. But I don't bother with that any further. My glans touches her shame for the first time. The heat from it takes me instantly and I press the tip even harder to her center. I have planned. If I do lose control, then Fett will make sure Kalota doesn't tear open. And this fat now allows my erection to slide effortlessly through her labia.

You can even feel the shaking between her legs. It's almost as if Kalota is vibrating. And that literally massages my erection. The jerky movements run from the tip over my shaft to my testicles. I clench my teeth quickly, wanting to start the pleasurable sound, but I can't. It presses heavily over my throat and fills the air around us. I immediately grab Kalota by the hair and pull her head back. A dull sound leaves her lips, but she narrows her eyes. don't look at me And that calms me down again. She probably didn't hear my soft moan. Is too caught up in her world.

So I let the glans wander over the middle again. Enjoy the soothing warmth. And all of a sudden I'm no longer sure if I shouldn't penetrate her after all. Just how the labia wrap around the tip of my hardness is intoxicating. The blood has left my brain. Doesn't make me think properly. And then there is the animal in me. It wants me to give in to urges. Whispers to me in a lovely voice that if I take her here now it won't make much difference. Just the way I want it. Kalota would have no pain. At least nothing worth mentioning.

So I navigate the acorn towards the entrance. And now I'm the one shaking. I want to press her even tighter against this wall. Scrape her cheek against it and elicit a soft moan from her. But she wouldn't moan. she would cry. Scream. Break. Like so many women among the men in my family. But it's so hard for me. The thought of getting weak just once is so seductive. God, it's so exhausting to fight against your own lust again and again. I'm so tired But a rape is a limit. One that I don't want to and can't cross. If I get weak now, I won't be able to look at myself in the mirror all week again. Then I became a bit more like my father. If it weren't for the evil in me. It rages. Slams its claws into me, trying to complicate my thinking, taking control entirely. I must not become weak. But I find it difficult. Damn hard.

"Please," whispers Kalota, pulling me out of my struggle. She probably noticed my hesitation. "Please don't do that." It's quiet and you can hardly hear the words. The voice trembles too much. I would be happy to answer her. But I can not. Instead, I bite her shoulder. I have to relieve pressure somewhere. And if I can't have that through an orgasm, then so be it. So I dig my teeth deeper into the fabric of the dress. And now Kalota's shrill shriek is free to echo down the streets. I'm doing this on purpose. Just the prospect of spectators brings me to my senses. Nevertheless, I press the pelvis slightly. My glans does not penetrate. But I feel that the entrance willingly yield to my pressure and would let me go. It must be enough. It should do. But that's not the case. I want to feel her. The heat. And so I bury my face in the crook of her neck, grab her hair even harder and thrust. Firmly. Kalota whines softly as I gasp against her skin.

She feels incredible. I feel the tremor even stronger now. My entire length is hugged by her soft abdomen. And not only that. She tenses her muscles. It's hardly intentional. But that's not relevant either. She massages my shaft, tightens my glans tight. So I press my pelvis even harder against hers. Push my erection an inch further into her and take a deep breath. Kalota smells good. I could go on. Could throw her on the floor right here and pump my cum inside her. But suddenly another idea comes to my mind. One that my beast likes even better. So I pull away from Kalota with a jerk and only now notice how difficult my breathing is.

But that's okay. It was clear to me from the start that this was going to be a fight. But I won. At least almost. Nevertheless, I see this evening as my victory. Not my monster's. I quickly grab my pants and pull them up. My erection is still sticking out and with regret I force the hardness back into the fabric. But it won't be long before I can release the pressure.

Magda have to spread her legs again today. I'll ram my cock into her knowing it was just in Kalota. And I will not see Magda before me, but Kalota. This will satisfy my inner beast. After all, Magda is the one who helped me lock it up. And now she's going to be the one who doesn't even know that I'd actually rather have someone else under me.

I look at Kalota again, brushing the hair from her tear-stained cheek. She's still standing against the wall and seems afraid to move. She looks so vulnerable again. Normally that would probably awaken my protective instinct, but not today. So I grab her by the hair and forcefully press her head against the wall. Again a scream whips through the streets, but I don't care. I just want to show her who's behind her. So I lean forward. After all, I want to make sure that she understands every word I say.

"I told you that I find a weakness in you." As I speak, Kalota stiffens. She seems to understand who I am instantly. "And believe me, this is just the beginning." Now I let go of her and turn away. Stroll down the small side street. I have a hard time not turning around. I would love to see Kalota's face. The bewilderment in it. But I don't want her to take that as an invitation to talk. I want to leave. Instantly. The pressure in my loins increases. And so I just whistle softly when I'm on the big street. Immediately, a shadow rises from the darkness and approaches me. platura. I have to grin and without a word he catches up with me as we make our way to my castle.