Page 12 of Neon Pestilence
Glistening red beads form, dripping onto the table beneath her. Taking my gloved finger, I gently stroke down it, spreading her blood even more. Like I’m some fucked up version of Picasso.
She shudders under my touch, and my dick strains against my slacks in response.
I realize then that none of my other patients has made me feel like this. And fuck, I barely even know her. Shaking the thought away, I switch my focus to my current objective. I need to make sure my little raver isn’t infected.
The sound of bass floats through the tent, the deep notes fueling something deeper, a feralness that wants to break out and show this patient how a doctor, like myself, can really tend to her needs.
“Are you gonna do something, or just stand there staring?” She smirks at me, fingers gliding across her clothed nipples. They’re hard, and pierced, and gods be damned, I’m lucky she can’t see my mouth right now. I swipe my tongue across my lips, saliva practically flowing down my chin as I imagine her sweet, musky taste on them.
A quick twist of my wrist and my scalpel slices through the fabric with precision. Her pussy is bare, glistening in the soft lighting.
I turn away, dropping the dirtied knife in a tray, and reach for my cane. I normally don’t use it much anymore; it’s more of a reminder of the countless patients I’ve healed. A relic of the old times, when I was just a young doctor, tending to those infected by the plague.
My eyes darken as I turn toward her and begin to walk in her direction. My heavy black boots fill the room with a hollow thump with every step I take. Reaching out with my cane, I place the tip on her bare mound before pushing the bottom of her outfit up, revealing her plump tummy.
She throws her arms up, ripping her wings from her body, then lies back fully, spreading her thick thighs wider for me. A soft moan escapes her lips as I softly rub the bottom length of the cane across where I just marked her. I smirk in response before running the tip of the cane up her body, making my way up her stomach, to her chest.
I position the cane’s tip under the black straps of her bodysuit, tugging it off her shoulder, causing her soft breast to pop free. A rush of heat flows to my lower stomach, and I can feel my cock hardening, but I ignore it as I make my way to the other strap.
She lets out a slew of sweet noises, and I try my best to ignore them, but like a deadly disease, she’s finding her way inside my brain.
“Fuckkkk, just do it, please,” she urges breathily, pleading with me. And all my willpower crumbles, like a building engulfed by flames.
As you wish, I think to her.
Another flick of my wrist, and she’s baring everything for me, like a goddess waiting for worship.
Taking a step back, I admire her for a second before flipping the cane in my hand so the bottom is now facing toward me. I move my other hand to the tip of my beak, the end of the cane following.
In one quick motion, I tug the beak up, revealing the lower part of my jaw to her. I flick my tongue out and roll the edge of the cane on it, making sure it’s coated. The saccharine coppery taste of her blood has my taste buds desperate for more; she’s delicious.
She lets out a breathy ‘fuck,’ a short whimper following after. I smirk and run my tongue along the bottom of my top lip, putting on a show for her, before placing the mask back in place.
She makes me want to rip the damn thing right off. Something I haven’t even dared to imagine doing from the moment it was gifted to me.
Moving the cane down her thigh, I press it gently on her center, gathering her wetness on the tip. With one small push, I breach her, burying the tip inside her body.
Satisfied moans fill the room. They’re better than any drug I’ve ever created. The sound could heal people, and fuck, it’s so much better than the constant robotic music blaring through the festival at all hours.
Her body trembles in front of me; she’s practically vibrating as I push the tip of the cane in and out of her. She’s so wet I can hear the sounds of it fucking her, and it makes me want to bend her over the chair and use my cock instead.
Patience, I tell myself,she’s not ready yet.
Chapter 11
Indy
My body is a live-wire, acid flowing through my bloodstream, making everything so much more fucking intense. The Doctor stands above me, working me from the inside out as his gloved hand caresses the breast closest to him. I moan out loud, the sound barely heard above the music surrounding the tent.
You sing so pretty for me.
His voice fills my head as the deep bass notes fuel his assault. He matches his pace with the vibrations flooding through the tent. It’s the perfect blend of music and passion.
My hips buck as my body is pushed closer to the edge. His assault takes its toll on me quicker than I expected as fire begins to burn in my core, my words becoming less coherent. “Ple- Fu- Ahh, yes.”
It seems like an eternity passes, and the ache becomes unbearable. I’m begging for my release as the doctor moves forward, pushing against the cut on my thigh. The pain sends a rush of pleasure over me as heat floods my body. My eyes roll back, and my breath comes out in short bursts. A broken scream bursts through my lips, so loud I’m sure you can hear it over the bass drop.
My skin is on fire as he pulls his weapon of mass orgasms out of me. Releasing a heavy breath, I slowly lift myself to a sitting position and watch as he takes his gloved finger and runs it along the part of the cane that was just in me. He pulls it away, and a string of my juices follows, soaking his gloves. I watch as he reaches for his beak, lifting it again before placing his fingers in his mouth, cleaning me off his gloves.
