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His first one was an accident. Dennis didn’t intend on killing her when he entered her dorm room that night. Oh he’d thought about it, frequently, but never meant for it to get that far. Tori – or was her name Terri? – liked it rough. Slapping, biting, hitting, binding and being bound, she was all for that shit. And Dennis was all for it too, a small way to indulge his darker fantasies.
They’d been hooking up for a few weeks now, each time getting progressively hotter and heavier. At first she had just asked for him to manhandle her, throw her around a little, and he was all too happy to oblige. After a while Dennis asked if he could tie her up. She nearly knocked his teeth out during the make out session that followed. Zip ties were added to the usual smacking and spitting, and Dennis thought he could continue like this with her. As long as she agreed, he wasn’t really harming her, was he?
Really, he hadn’t meant to see her at all on this night. He was at the dive bar off campus this Friday – the one that always “forgot” to I.D. college kids – sipping a light beer while leaning his back against the counter. A perfect picture of casual ease. He was watching a group of girls dancing together, and took particular interest in a short blonde wearing a slinky dress. As she gyrated, he thought of what her perky little tits would look like on a stake. He wondered what kind of knife would be best for the job (serrated?), and whether he’d rather take them off while she was still alive and screaming. As he took an idle sip from his beer, still thinking about how the blonde would look in a puddle of her own blood, sans tits, he felt a slap on his back. He spat the luke-warm beer out in surprise.
“Dennis! Didn’t expect to see you out tonight!” He hadn’t expected to see Terri – or was it Tawni? – either.
“Hey you!” he responded, hoping he sounded excited. Well, he was excited at the idea of fooling around with her tonight, but that was a little overshadowed by the frustration he felt at being knocked out of his fantasy. “Yeah, just thought I’d take a break from working on that essay for McHale. Take my mind off things.” He took another sip of his light beer.
“Hmm, I know a way to take your mind off things…” She trailed a hot pink nail up his shoulder, to his neck and behind his ear. Oh his night was about to get interesting.
She lead him, stumbling, out of the bar, manicured hand clutching his forearm. Out the door, across the street, and several blocks through the city, she eventually switched to leaning on Dennis for balance. They made it to campus unscathed, despite a close call with a swerving car – Dennis almost started chasing it before settling on a very loud “Hey fuck you buddy!” Giggling, she pulled him close.
“Oh forget him. Come on!”
He could feel her chest pressed into his arm. The soft warmth of another body against his. A jolt of excitement ran down his spine.
Onward toward campus, the night was filled with the usual Friday night shenanigans of a college town: houses pumping out party music and flashing lights, random whoops and hollers, the occasional drunk driver, distant sirens. Dennis could feel his God-hole aching – as still, dark, and empty as the streets outside the parties. Tawni (?) fumbled with her keys, eventually finding the one to her dorm and opening the front door.
“Maybe I should get back to my paper. You know McHale-”
“Fuck McHale! Come on and fuck me!” She grabbed his arm again, pulling him toward her room.
Inside, she kissed him, all lips and tongue, grabbing at his shoulders with the sloppy ferocity of a drunk college girl. Dennis chuckled, she was always so easy. He pushed her onto the bed. That earned him a moan. She tugged at his shirt hem, and Dennis complied, tossing his shirt somewhere onto her roommate’s side of the room. She was always out on Fridays. He leaned back down to continue kissing her, left hand searching in her dresser for – aha – the zip ties! As her hands roamed up his torso, admiring his carefully sculpted physique, he caught them and pinned them above her head. She groaned, a growing wetness soaking into his knee. Her skirt had risen during the struggle, leaving just her thin panties between him and his goal. With the confidence of experience, he bound her hands together, and flipped her on her front. He pulled down her panties and unzipped his own trousers.
“Condom!” she grunted.
“Oh damn your condoms!” But he still grabbed one from her dresser and rolled it onto his stiffened member. He lined up with her entrance, sliding in easily. She shuddered. He pulled back, then thrust forward with the loud thwap of skin-on-skin. He quickly sped up the pace, holding her hips for leverage.
“Choke me.”
“Huh?”
“Choke me!”
Well, that was new, but not unwelcome. He leaned forward, pinning one of his arms under her and the other around her neck, full weight on her now. Slowly, still thrusting, he put pressure around her neck.
“Like this?”
“Mhm”
He could feel her tighten around his cock as he increased the pressure, twitching slightly with every thrust. He tightened his grip around her neck just a bit more, and her inner muscles spasmed. Oh, this was very good. He could feel his climax approaching, and hastened his thrusts. She forced air from her throat with a wheezing sound, trying to take some in and failing. She tried to reach up and pull his arm away from her throat, but she didn't have the leverage, and just ended up slapping his arm with her bound hands. Dennis was so close. He pulled his grip even tighter around her neck, thrusting with a desperation he had never felt before. She went limp under him and with a few more pumps he came, seeing stars.
He let go her and shifted his upper weight onto his elbows, pulling back and out of her. She didn't respond. He slapped her face a couple of times, but no dice. Dennis put his head onto her back, searching for breath, but couldn't hear anything. Realization washed over him: she was gone, and he had done it. Dennis felt his soul, or what was left of it, leave his body. Would he get caught? Would there be enough evidence pointing at him? Maybe that condom wasn't such a bad idea after all. He was in awe that he'd actually done it.
Maybe he could never fill his God-hole, but perhaps he could act as a God: a shining Golden God with power over Life and Death. And besides, the bitch was asking for it.