Come and I Will Show You My Skill

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by TorTracyn, Mar 8, 2013.

  1. Emily stood in the butcher's secret workroom, staring at the man as he worked to quickly carve the flesh and muscle away from the dead man's bones.

    Ave María...grátia plena...Dóminus tecum...Benedícta tu in muliéribus, et benedíctus fructus ventris tui, Jesus...Sancta María, Mater Dei, ora pro nobis peccatóribus, nunc et in hora mortis nostræ...."

    She shuffled her feet slightly and looked down at her shoes. Dark blood was seeping into the satin of her nice blue heels. Absolutely replaceable. They could go in her closet with the rest of her blood-soaked clothes.

    Emily O'Connor wasn't afraid of blood and death and gore. She had been a hit-man since she was 16. She had seen blood and death and gore. She had caused it. She had walked through the streets of hell to come out the other side beaten, bruised, and ready for more.

    Her eyes flicked back up to the wolverine in front of her. Her heels clicked softly against the cement floor as she walked up to the man hanging from the meat hook and walked a slow circle around the two men, watching Pyotr's every cut, every slice, every single movement. Now and then she looked up to his face, awed by the look of concentration she found there.

    There wasn't one bit of this that made the cat squeamish or uneasy. Quite the opposite, honestly. She shivered at the thought of the knife running across her skin and stepped back, rubbing her upper arms with her hands.

    She watched as he gutted, dismembered, and disposed of the two bodies. They were nothing. Thugs who thought it would be a good idea to try and shake the butcher down for protection money when he was already under the protection of the Russian mob. Not only that, but they interrupted a rather intimate moment the hit-woman was sharing with her butcher out in the alley beside his shop.

    She was a little sad the others ran away after Pyotr cut two of them down easily with knives she didn't even know he was carrying. She really was ashamed she forgot her guns. She never left the house without her guns. She wasn't good at hand-to-hand, especially not with her knee and shoulder injury. She wasn't very good at it before either. Hence the veritable road map of scars crisscrossing through her fur. Every one a memory, every one very important to her.

    As she watched Pyotr cleaning the surfaces once both bodies were nothing more than ground up meat in the sewer below, Emily realized she had to make a choice. Should she let her beau know grateful she was for dinner now? Should she let him in on just how messed up she really was? He was a butcher. He was the type of man who drew an anatomical cow's heart on the back of a business card when she had asked for his phone number. He was perfect for her.

    The others had been perfect too...

    But the others didn't know how to eviscerate a body with the grace that Pyotr did. Plus, the others were gone. Out of her life for good. Every single one of them dead. The rumors were she did it herself. The truth was she only killed the first one...

    None of that was the point at the moment.

    Well, is finish.

    She barely registered that he had said anything. She stood there, fidgeting, trying desperately to make up her mind. It was a fiery debate between her brain, her heart, and her crotch, two against one vs her brain.

    The debate ended with Pyotr pulling her into a heated, passionate kiss. Electricity shot through her body. Every single nerve felt like it was on fire, every inch of her begging to be touched. She wrapped her arms around him and jumped up, wrapping her legs around him as well. Not that she had to jump very far. They were the same height, but still.

    She pulled herself into him as tightly as she could and when the kiss broke, she let out a sigh, her pulse racing. She could feel her heart pounding. She stretched her neck out for him to do with what he wanted. "I'll take dessert now." She said, desperately hoping he understood she didn't mean ice cream.
  2. Pyotr looked at her after he spoke, watching the conflict in her eyes. He wished he could figure out what she was thinking. She had a thing for blood and knives, he knew that. They joked about it all the time. But carving up a cow and carving up a person were two very different things. Was she afraid of him? Yes, she was a killer, but he had been nothing but a harmless butcher in her eyes.

    Until tonight. Tonight he had gone from loving, tender and gentle, to ruthless and vicious and calculating. He had swiftly cut down two men without a moment's thought, and had single-mindedly dismembered and disposed of them. Was his image tarnished in her eyes? She had known that he 'took out the trash' as he put it, for the mob boss he paid rent to, but until someone actually sees it...

    Unable to be able to stand the waiting, he gently took her paw and pulled her to him. He hadn't changed. He was still the big-hearted wolverine that had fallen for the lonely and beautiful cat he'd met in a speakeasy. He wanted her to know that with all his heart. Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her with a passion that surprised him. He didn't realise just how much tension had built up in him until he poured it all into this kiss, as if it were his last.

    When she jumped up into his arms and wrapped herself around him, he smiled in relief, almost too excited for words. Dessert? "Da, I am give you dessert..." he chuffed excitedly, already growing hard as she felt her heat pressing against his belly. He turned and pushed her up against the wall, growling possessively as he kissed her neck, so deliciously offered to him, dragging his claws up her legs. His thick, wide paws and long, sharp claws immediately shredded her stockings, scraping her skin below the fur just enough for her to feel it.

    "I give you dessert..." he repeated in a low voice, his dick now started to poke her in her belly.
  3. The cold wall she was pressed against sent a shiver up her spine from more than just a chill. Between that and what was poking into her stomach, she knew this was going to be a very good night. It usually was with him, but pleasure had yet to be mixed with blood...

    When she felt her stockings rip, she let out a laugh and nipped at him. She had other stockings. She didn't care about her stockings. She did know, however, that she needed to at least keep her dress in tact of they would be able to leave the room.

    Not a bad idea though...

    She reached up to the drawstring that allowed her to adjust the shoulders of her dress and pulled one of the tail ends of the bow, unraveling it easily. The fabric relaxed and slid down over her shoulders. She nipped at him again and wriggled, pulling her arms up and out of her dress, wriggling more so the dress fell to her waist.

    She brought her mouth back to his, her hands up cupping his jaw and holding his mouth to hers. She moaned softly and squirmed, pulling back from the kiss just to shove his face towards her breasts instead.
  4. Pyotr was practically drooling when she undid her dress and let it fall off her shoulders. His muzzle had nosed down into her bra before he could even get it unclipped and off her shoulders. Exposing her chest to the cool air, his hot breath practically steamed as he panted over them, taking one into his mouth, then moving to the other.

    Grinding his hips up against hers, his paws went back to clawing up her legs more eagerly now, getting her dress off the rest of the way. Growling and grunting in need, he scooped her up under her ass with one hand, pressing her harder against the wall as he struggled with his pants with the other. After a few frustrated curses in Russian, he had freed his cock from its cloth prison.

    He suddenly felt like he couldn't breathe suddenly, and struggled to free himself from his bow tie and collar, even as his dick tried to find its mark between her legs. He whined and chuffed at her, beyond words and needing a little help. His excitement was starting to get the better of him, trying to do everything at once so he could get into the rhythm of boning his beautiful lover.
  5. At his mouthing, she moaned and arched her back, putting her head back against the wall. The air was so cold and his mouth was so hot. She bit her lip, helping him to get her out of her dress, and was a little relieved that he was too excited to ask why she hadn't worn panties but she had on a bra and girdle.

    A heated purr rumbled through her as she watched him struggle. It thrilled her to know she could cause him arousal to the point of forgetting how to talk or undress himself. She bat his hands away from his bow-tie and undid it for him. She then worked her way down the buttons on his shirt, her tail coming up to flick around between his legs and frustrate him more.

    She, of course, wanted it just as badly as he did, her scent filling the air and doing nothing to help the poor man's frustrations she was sure. But she wanted at his chest. She loved feeling his muscles. Knowing he was so much stronger was thrilling for her. She nosed his ear and the side of his head, biting at his ear. She was doing nothing to help his aim down below, however, just serving to make it harder.
  6. Finally freed of his bowtie and shirt but just as frustrated by her beautiful, soft, distracting tail. He finally carried her over to the steel table, throwing down his jacket and shirt for her to lay on before climbing up there with her, pulling apart her legs and driving himself home. Leaning over her, he eagerly shoved himself into her, grinding and humping frantically before he could find a rhythm. She was so hot and wet, he felt as if he were losing his mind.

    Finally coming back to his senses a bit, Pyotr slowed his pace, thrusting harder to make up for the decrease in speed, and ducked his head to her chest again, growling deeply as he nipped at her breasts. <Is this delicious for you?> he teased her in Russian, nipping her breasts to accentuate every word.
  7. She held onto him while he got the table ready, teasing him with her tail and running her claws along his chest. She looked over at his knives, whined, and let him lay her down. She started to relax but was interrupted by him finally getting his act together. She gasped and moaned loudly, grabbing onto his arms and running her claws down them. She thrust back against him, squirming on the table, letting go of his arms to grab the edge of the metal slab to keep herself from sliding anywhere.

    "God damn, Pyotr!" she managed to gasp out, before going back to her moan. When he slowed down and turned some attention back to her breasts, she lowered her arms to wrap loosely around his neck.

    Then, a thought struck her. She didn't have to stay quiet for anyone. She hadn't been able to fully let loose since...she had never been able to fully let loose! She was always in an apartment building, or had Alexa around, or her cousins! She moved her hands down and pushed at his shoulders, twisting her hips suddenly to get him beneath her instead. She gave him a wicked grin and a loud purr. "Why don't ye let me show ye some o' my skill now? Since ye were so kind tae show me yours..."
  8. Pyotr blinked at suddenly finding himself on the cold table, his jacket and shirt falling to the floor when she made her move. No matter. His fur was thick enough to withstand the cold, and their excitement so far had warmed the table up some. He grinned up at her and licked his chops eagerly. "Da, you show me skill. I am learn eager from beautiful woman," he agreed, nodding his head as he stretched and relaxed a bit beneath her, playfully thrusting up into her, letting her bounce on his cock a bit. It both amused and further excited him, feeling her bounce and slide on his shaft.
  9. She gasped and steadied herself with her hands on his stomach, sitting up. She laughed and grinned at him, riding him for a moment. She slid off him though, promising herself that she would be back to that in a bit. She slid her way down to lay between his legs, taking his shaft in her hand. She admired it for a moment, sliding her fingertips over the soft, slick skin. "So, I know opossums have a bone wolverines?" She asked, looking up at him as she pulled his cock towards her mouth.

    She brushed her lips against it lightly, waiting for his answer.
  10. He whined slightly when she slid off, but the moment she held it in her hands, he was sitting up a bit, leaning on his elbows and panting like an excited puppy. "Da, is bone. Is keep hard for give many loving to beautiful lady..." he chuffed, staring down at her lips hungrily. He tried to move his hips to get it in her mouth faster, whining some more.

    "You are want to taste? I am happy to deliver to beautiful mouth..." he suggested hopefully, really hoping she'd accept his offer. Right now he was so excited he could probably fuck a hole through the wall.
  11. Emily giggled and dropped her eyes from his face back to his cock. "Da?" She smirked and planted a row of kisses up and down his shaft. "Why're ye in such a hurry, love? Ye t'ink we'll be interrupted here? Tha door's one's' I plan on makin' ye scream, might as well jes' sit back an' enjoy the ride, aye?"

    And with that, she took him into her mouth. Apparently his little Irish hit-woman didn't have a gag reflex...
  12. Pyotr's jaw dropped and his eyes rolled back at the sensation, his arms going weak as he flopped back onto the table. This was the most amazing feeling he'd ever experienced and it was all he could do not to hold her head there and fuck her mouth until he came. He could feel her rough cat tongue on the slick, sensitive flesh and yelped in pleasure, wanting more of that. He rolled his hips at her, trying to find her tongue with his cock, cursing in pleasure.

    "Maybe," he panted, "maybe you are bring self up here. Is no fun to eat alone, da?"
  13. Her tail, which she was holding high in the air, flicked in excitement. She pulled her mouth off him to take a breath and smirked. " dessert I've ever had..." She said as she crawled back on top of him. She was honestly glad they were the same height suddenly. It meant she could put her knees on either side of his head and still reach his cock and no one would have to hurt their neck!

    She took him back into her mouth, rubbing her rough tongue against his soft flesh since he had sounded like he liked it a minute ago. Her tail flicked about happily as she worked him, sliding a hand up and down his thigh before bringing it back up to cup his balls.
  14. Pyotr eagerly wrapped his thick arms around her slim waist, burying his muzzle between her legs. His tongue was longer than hers, and he used it to full advantage, lapping and slurping loudly at the juices now starting to soak the fur between her legs. She be able to hear his lewd snuffling and snorting as his tongue penetrated her with the same enthusiasm his cock had just minutes ago. His cock, which was now humping away at her tongue, leaking precum which dribbled down his shaft, inviting her to lick at him even more.
  15. Emily gasped. "Oh fuck!" She licked at him happily, arching her back slightly and squirming. She gave his balls a gentle tug and took him deep into her throat again. Despite her earlier realization, it was just habit for her to keep quiet. He was making it hard, though, thrashing his tongue around like that.

    She was absolutely soaking wet. The sounds he made were driving her crazy, along with everything else. Just knowing how excited he was and how readily he dove in helped, too. It made her feel young and beautiful again. He always did. Not that she was old. She was only 25 but her knee and shoulder injury usually made her feel so much older, like she was past the prime of her life already and no one would find her attractive.

    Then she found her wolverine...she slid him deep into her throat again, her purr vibrating through his cock. She pressed herself into his muzzle firmly, enjoying every single bit of him.
  16. Oh god, she was doing it again, and with that purr of hers! That beautiful purr was doing such wonderful things to him now, he was sure he'd never hear it without getting hard again. He found himself growling and whining, sending the same vibrations into her when she pushed down onto his muzzle. At one point he removed his tongue and shoved a couple thick digits in there instead, giving her thighs and clit little nips with his teeth, nipping at her, then licking to soothe it. He allowed his teeth to drag along her inner thigh, then his claws, while the fingers he'd shoved inside her were making slick, wet noises as he finger-fucked her.

    He didn't know what it was about this woman that made him love her so much, or get this excited to take her in his workroom. Maybe it was the freedom they had to be completely honest with each other. Maybe it was the joy in two lonely souls finding each other. Whatever it was, he knew he had never met a woman like her before, and most likely never would again. But that was alright with him, because he didn't really expect to be looking for another.
  17. With all of the attention she was getting piled on top of how she generally felt around him, she wasn't planning on just letting him go. She pulled her mouth off of him to let out a nice, loud shout of pleasure before diving right back in. She shivered and squirmed, arching her back and tightening around his fingers.

    She spread her legs a bit more, wanting more from him but having no idea what more he could do. Not at the moment. She was having enough trouble focusing on his cock and what she had been doing there. She started circling it with her tongue, not missing an inch of it, dragging her claws lightly over his balls with one hand, and up and down his thigh with the other.
  18. Pyotr suddenly pulled out his fingers and actually sat up, carrying her lower half with him and tipping her almost upside down! He held her securely around her hips and shoved his muzzle into her as deep as he could, his tongue reaching even farther than before, lapping up her insides with long, slow licks. Still holding her with one arm, he pressed one of his already wet fingers and pressed it to her ass, just below her tail, trying to work it past the ring of muscle and inside. He gave a long, deep growl, the vibrations even reaching down to his own cock as he continued to ravish his lover with the same single-mindedness he put into his work. He wanted her to cum, screaming his name.
  19. Well, that was sure as hell the right way to go about it.

    When she found herself upside down, she wrapped her legs around his head, squirming and putting her hands down on the table. She moaned into him when he started licking deeper inside her, but when he added another finger to the mix, somewhere she had never been touched before? Well, that was it for her. She gasped as she brought her head up off his cock and started shuddering and screaming. "Fuck! Pyotr!! Oh FUCK!"

    As she came, she brought a hand up off the table to jerk furiously at his cock. She wanted him to come too, to feel just like he was making her feel. Her shouts turned to Gaelic as he mind slipped away, hardly able to make words, much less ones in English.
  20. Pyotr smirked to himself as she came, lapping up the fruits of his labour. So, she liked that, hm? He'd have to remember that. When she started to jerk him off, he humped into her paw, moaning, a few eager spurts of cum shooting out. But he wasn't done with her yet. Setting her down, he extracted his cock from her hand, climbing up behind her while she was still on her hands and knees, shoving himself back inside her. Leaning over her back, he panted in her ear while groping at her breasts again, pulling her into him every time he thrust forward. Growling in lust, he nipped at her neck, grabbing at the scruff of her neck in his teeth.