>>7224


"Isn't it a bit early to put on that dress, milady?" I ask from the doorstep.

It's not that I was dspleased by what I saw - Eliza looked amazing in that stark white wedding dress. It just felt like a personal jab that she decided to wear it tonight. A reminder that tomorrow she will be married to another man. I would have accepted my loss if it was by love. But it was arranged for a man who she barely knows. For a man that wouldn't even bother to strain himself to do his part on a wedding night, as he saw Eliza as nothing but a political power at a cost of a wedding ring. But of course, he will be furious if he discoveres our little dalliance. That hoarder William...

"You're blushing, officer." Eliza saves me from my own envious thoughts.

My cheeks burn even harder. They always do when she calls me by my rank. "It's just-"

She places a finger on my lips before I can finish my excuse and, checking corridor for eavesdroppers, closes the door behind me. We sat down talked over a glass of wine. A glass followed by a second one. In a middle of the third glass, she took my hand and pulled me towards the bed. Responding to her invitation, I lean forward to embrace her by her waist and gave her a long and passionate kiss. Might as well put a proper end to things, as it's going to be my last night with her.

Eliza carefully removed my tunic and hanged it on a chair, as if not to damage my honor. Funny enough, she was one of the only women would allow to treat it crudely. Maybe even rip a button or two. I lay my hands on her just as delicately, trace the corset up to her chest, to her shoulders, and to her hips, hidden underneath endless folds of the skirt. This is where the gentleman should tear the whole thing off, freeing milady from the weight of her attire. But I don't want to. I want her in that dress.

"I did not invite you in just to spend a night together." She pauses.

I back off a little, looking into her light-blue eyes for answers. "Then what is it?"

Eliza leans closer. So close I can feel her ot frantic breath on my lips. She lays a had on my saber; it hangs from my belt so naturally I often forget I carry it. "I want you...to take my life, officer."

My heart skips a beat. I rush to retreat, but Eliza doesn't let me, stuck to my naked chest. "Milady! Surely you jest! That would be scandalous of me to snuff a lady right before her wedding!"

"That's exactly why I'm asking." Her gloved hand traced down my abs. "This is our last chance to end our relationship properly. Please, officer, I beg you to take it."

Before I could hardly call it a relationship. But now she was offerng her life to me. Either she does this out of untold devotion, or to escape a loveless marriage, I struggle to regect her offer.

"If William finds out, I'll be in troble."

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone." She chuckles, unbuckling my belt. Damn it, her eyes do better job convincing me than any words could.

Another deep, wet, and passionate kiss. Eliza sinks into her featherbed, and I dive in with her. Thighs, slightly squished under the garterbelts, peek just from below the skirt. I drag her panties down, admiring her slender legs. Then, I dig my face between her thighs. Then deeper. Brushing through my curled hair, she vocalized her desire so shamelessly I would perish myself if discovered. She asked for more, deeper, and closer. But she was so defenseless and fragile in my arms, I had to treat her like a delicate flower. I was convinced she could crumble if I embrase her too hard.

Climbing higher and facing her, I pull my saber from of it's scabbard with a soundly metallic chime. A ceremonial weapon, but with a great edge. Eliza marvelled at it, yearned to feel it inside. Yearned to be destroyed by it. To be reduced to a lifeless doll for me to enjoy. With one quick motion, I let myself in. I thrust, and she moans. I thrust again. And again. She archs under me, clings onto me, feverish and intoxicated. In her pleasureful cries I hear a wordless plead: "fuck me, enjoy me, kill me."
I raise my saber, linger a bit to see a joy in her blue eyes, and slash it. Feathers erupt from disemboweled pillow, white and red. Ecstatic tremor surges through Eliza's body, vigorously milking the seed out of me. From the half-shashed through neck crimson streams down her chest and consumes the white on her dress, snuffs all of if out on it's way. I take my breath, soaking in the blur that was this night.

___

Yes, Korone is indeed 95...in dog years that is.

Name: Marcy
Age: 19 in human years
Character: forward, open to new experiances, doesn't know much about how humans operate
Setting: I couldn't decide so here are options
- human hooks up with an alien girl who's species have...interesting (and fatal) mating rituals
- human makes (first?) contact with an alien girl and offers to show her deadly but fun Earth traditions.