The taste of blood

Of all the days, of all the weeks your body had to start. It's when you've been kidnapped. And what's worse is that you're fairly certain that he knows.

Or at least you think he knows, the way he stares at you unabashedly while you avoid eye contact entirely makes you feel paranoid he's aware that you're on your period. You wouldn't be too surprised if he did though, with the way you've been awkwardly squirming in place trying to find the position that would stain your clothes the least and the visible grimace anytime you felt a sharp stab to your lower abdomen. It's a surprise he hasn't commented on it yet.

"You've been moving a lot more Tiny, you uncomfortable?" Jasper asks, a sly grin spreading across his face as if enjoying some private joke that only the two of you know, he's not far off, you think. 

Forcing yourself to meet his gaze, you force out a weak "I'm fine," Your voice surprisingly steadier than you feel. It's a lie, but it's one you think might buy you a little more time. 

"Sure you are," he drawls, his condescending tone frustrating you.

"Come on, just tell me," he urges, tilting his head slightly as if that could coax the truth out of you. "I promise I won't laugh... too much." 

You can't help but roll your eyes, an uneasy smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite the discomfort pulsing through you. 

"Okay, I guess," you relent, the words slipping out before you can fully think them through. And for a brief moment, you regret your decision. "It's just… you know."

He raises an eyebrow, leaning in slightly, his expression shifting from teasing to genuine curiosity. "Know what? That you're secretly training for the Olympics by fidgeting?" 

You shoot him a glare, but it falters when you see the way his eyes crinkle at the corners, your annoyance only proving to amuse your captor further. "I'm … uh, you know, on my period…" 

For a moment you genuinely found terrifying he simply stares at you, eyes searching your embarrassed expression before he realizes you're telling the truth. And he just… laughs, in your face. As if he heard the funniest joke of his life. "Is that it?" he chuckles, wiping a mock tear from his eye. "You actually had me worried there for a second, Tiny. I thought you were going to say something serious."

Something serious, you think bitterly. Like the fact that your life is dangling on a thread, held by a man who finds amusement in your discomfort. With every fiber of your being, you want to scream at him, to hurt him just once in your time here. But the fear of what he could do in response keeps your bitterness down.

Instead, you settle for silence, hoping he'll grow bored of this exchange and leave you alone. Jasper strides over to where you 'sat', staring down at you with that infuriating smug look. "So is that why you've been moving around so much, hm? Want me to get you a pad? Maybe some chocolate hm?" He mocked, crouching down to eye level, his grin widening like a wolf's as he savors your discomfort. 

As if reading your thoughts, his expression shifts slightly, contemplative. "You know, Tiny," he begins, his voice dropping to an almost conspiratorial whisper, "I really could help you out. I mean, a little kindness goes a long way. Even for someone in my position."

"You're not funny." You whisper bitterly, biting the inside of your cheek

He stands up straight again, chuckling lightly as he turns away, his back to you. "Oh come on, it's not like I'm completely heartless. I mean, I do have a reputation to uphold—you know, the big scary cannibal and all that." He spins around to face you again with an exaggerated flourish. "But I can't just have my guest squirming around in pain. It's bad for morale."

Asshole, you think, not bothering to hide the visible grimace on your face when you feel another sharp stabbing pain. 

"See?" He beams, "You're practically begging for my help. I really am a nice guy underneath all this… well, you know." He gestures to himself expansively, "C'mon, wish and I'll grant it"

You know he's fucking with you, that he's just throwing bait out into the ocean. 

But desperation bleeds into your resolve, and you can't help but feel the weight of your predicament. "You wouldn't help," you manage to say, voice trembling slightly as you test the waters.

Jasper raises an eyebrow, his expression a mix of feigned innocence and wicked glee. "Oh, I could surprise you, Tiny. You just have to ask nicely." He leans closer again, his breath warm against your skin, and for a moment, you think he might actually be serious.

Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself for whatever consequences this might bring. "I—" you hesitate, trying to find the right words that won't signify defeat but also display your dire need. "Could I at least have… a change of clothes? Please?"

His laughter erupts like a sudden storm, filling the dim room with sound as he throws his head back. When he finally calms down, he wipes at his eyes again and smirks down at you "Now, why would I do that? I mean, at least you're aware enough to know that I don't have tampons and pads on hand for my prey."

Even with the sting of humiliation, you're glad you at least asked, "Because I'm bleeding all over my clothes?" You tentatively respond. He tilts his head, carefully considering your words as if you said something extremely complex and convoluted. And you can see the wheels turning in his mind, weighing your worth as either entertainment or a nuisance. "So just take your clothes off." 

"Pardon?"

"You heard me, I'm not getting you new clothes, you'd just bleed all over them— So why ruin the ones you have any further? Strip." 

You stare at him, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as shock settles in your gut. "You can't be serious," you manage to croak, horrified by the suggestion.

Jasper's grin widens, a predator eyeing its prey. "Oh, I'm dead serious. You wanted a change of clothes, right? This is just a practical solution." He steps back slightly, crossing his arms as if waiting for you to comply. 

"Why the hell would I ever do that?" you shoot back, nails digging into the palms of your hand.

"Because," he starts, "I've already seen you naked before. Well, at least your chest…" He adds the last part on as if it was an afterthought as if the memory he's referencing didn't include him literally putting you onto a meat hook.

Your stomach churns at the recollection, the pain is still fresh in your mind. "I'd rather bleed out than give you the satisfaction," you say, forcing steel into your voice despite how weak you feel.

His smirk falters for just a moment before returning with renewed vigor. "Okay," He simply says, to your surprise, turning around "It's not my problem if you stain your entire pants red." 

You watch as he strolls right back to his seat, dropping down and crossing his legs, arms resting casually on the arms of the chair as if he were merely observing a play.

The audacity. 

The silence that followed felt heavy, like a thick fog settling in the corners of the room. You could feel your heart racing, each beat loud enough to drown out your breathing. You could feel his gaze on you, waiting for you to crack, and part of you knew what was bound to happen. That the two of you are simply waiting for the inevitable to happen, though anticipation varied. You shifted uncomfortably—every movement tugged painfully at your clothes, and the fabric clung uncomfortably where it was stained. 

Gritting your teeth, you wrestled with the idea of giving in. A change of clothes would be nice, and you're willing to bet that he wouldn't mind too much about blood on his spare clothes, seeing he had no problem licking your blood fresh off the meat hook he put you on. So, if you just have to spend a couple of hours—maybe days— bottomless what's the price compared to the discomfort you were enduring? 

Fighting against the instinct to recoil from his stare, you took a deep breath and shifted your weight. "Okay," you said, the word tasting bitter on your tongue, "I'll do it."

Jasper visibly perked up, something you could probably akin to being cute if you still had a semi-positive impression of him.

"Really? I didn't think you'd actually cave. I thought you were tougher than that, Tiny."

"Shut up," you muttered, keeping your gaze fixated on Kaiser who was peacefully resting. You wished you could be him, fed, warm, not bleeding out.

"Alright, alright," he responded, taking back your attention, amusement clear in his tone. "No need to get all flustered. I'll make it quick, just for you."

Ignoring the disgust that rolled around in your stomach you simply squeezed your eyes shut trying to block out the soft thud of each step he took on the wooden floor, the creaking floorboards doing little to ease your nerves.

They stop the moment he stands in front of you, his soft breathing warm against your cheek. "Try kicking me and I won't hesitate to break your fingers."

You begrudgingly nod, swallowing hard as you feel the heat radiating from him.

"Good girl," he teases, as if you were his dog. "Now, let's keep this civil."

You don't realize how much you're trembling until he places a hand around your waist, brushing the waistband of your pants with his thumb, gauging a reaction you refuse to give him, much to his disappointment.

You bite your lip as he begins to pull at the fabric, his fingers deftly working against the stubborn material clinging to your thighs. You work with him despite the aching pain in your leg when you try to lift your hips just enough to help him. The thin fabric of your pants drags against your skin, and you wince, feeling the sting as it pulls away from the dried blood.

Jasper's grip is surprisingly gentle, but your past experiences with him and how unnecessarily close he is makes it hard to believe this gentleness is coming from genuine worry for your comfort. You kick your bloodied pants completely off once they pool around your ankle, and he's surprisingly quiet as he tosses it to the side.

"See? Not so hard,"

You don't bother to respond, choosing to remain silent and forcing yourself to breathe through not only waves of anxiety crashing over you but the aching pain only somehow worsening. There's no telling what he has in store; wouldn't it be just like him to make things worse?

With oddly little ceremony, Jasper casually tosses your stained pants to a corner of the room, where they land with a soft thud. You feel exposed and vulnerable, the chill of the air wrapping around your bare skin making you shiver involuntarily. "You're not taking my shirt?" You tentatively ask, closing your thighs once you realize where his gaze is fixated.

"No need," he replies, scanning your form with an appraising eye. "You've got a perfectly good top there, Tiny. Well," he leans in closer, the warmth of his breath disturbing the air between you, "Unless you were hoping I'd do something a little more."

"What— No," You quickly corrected, face feeling a little warm at the implication, "I just assumed since you said clothes… Not just my pants."

He hums in acknowledgment, "I guess I did say that." He seems to ponder for a moment, his eyes narrowing in thought, and you can feel your heart racing in the heavy silence that follows. "But, why take the time to cut your shirt to take the thing off when it's not even dirty." He sighs, only now pulling your attention back to his hands when he lifts a rather familiar piece of fabric into the air.

Stained red with your blood, he holds your underwear up like it's some kind of prize "You bleed a lot," He commented watching the way embarrassment floods your expression, heat rising to suffocate what little bravado you had left. "Put that down!" you exclaim, your voice turning sharp.

"Why?" he asks, feigning innocence as he dangles the fabric in front of your face. "Scared I'll lick the blood off or something?"

Your stomach lurches at the sight, and you turn your head away, focusing on the wall instead, willing the heat from your cheeks to disappear. "You're disgusting," you mutter, trying to sound unbothered, but the tremor in your voice betrays your true feelings.

"Aww, don't be like that," he says, his tone dripping with mock sympathy. "I'm just teasing. After all, we're practically best friends now." He drops your underwear carelessly onto the pile of your discarded pants like it's an afterthought.

The laugh he lets out is a mix of delight and something darker, and you can't help but shrink back against the cold wall behind you. With every lingering moment of this twisted game. "Besides," Jasper continues, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leans closer again. "I prefer it fresh."

You recoil instinctively, pressing your back harder against the wall as if it could somehow shield you from him. The idea of him indulging in any part of you—much less what had just been discarded—made your skin crawl. "What is wrong with you?" You choke out, voice barely above a whisper.

His damned grin seemed to only widen at your reaction "Oh, you know," he replies nonchalantly, his smirk stretching wider. "Just a guy trying to make the most of his situation. Besides, I thought we had established that I like how you taste." He softly chuckled at innuendo, and the sound of his laughter made you wish you could rip your ears out.

That'd be nice, you think, being blind, deaf, unmoving, dead. Anything other than this would be nice truthfully. But then again, death felt like a distant luxury. You were still here, painfully aware of every second ticking away like a clock counting down to an uncertain fate.

"Are you just going to sit there and sulk?" he taunted, tilting his head to the side, his expression one of mock concern. "Don't do me like that Tiny, I'm not just thinking of myself when I say that."

You refuse to respond, your silence only pushing him to continue

"I'm thinking of you! I mean, not to say I'm an expert or anything but I heard orgasms really help with period cramps."

His words hung in the air, an awful mix of incredulity and revulsion swirling in your gut. "You can't be serious," you murmur under your breath. The absurdity of it all, and the way he seemed completely unfazed by your horrified expression, made a knot form in your throat.

"Why not? It's just science," Jasper replied with a shrug as if discussing something as mundane and boring as the weather. "Releases endorphins, eases pain—might even make you feel good for once."

"Why the hell wo—" And as if the gods themselves were against you, you were interrupted by the sharp, stabbing pain in your gut that somehow seemed to outdo most of the cramps you've experienced thus far. You doubled over instinctively, gasping as you willed yourself to just let it pass.

"See? I told you that you're not fine," he said, leaning in just a bit too close for comfort. "I can help," he said.

"Help? You mean by making things worse?" you spat back, the last thing you wanted was to entertain his sick ideas any further. "I don't need anything from you."

"Oh, come on, Tiny! Think of it as a little... distraction," he countered, that infuriating grin still plastered on his face. "I promise I can be very accommodating. After all, I wouldn't want my favorite guest squirming in pain now, would I?"

You scoffed at his implication of favoritism. "Said the same guy who broke my fingers."

Jasper chuckled lightly, clearly unfazed by your jab, probably enjoying the little back and forth if anything. "Right, how could I ever forget?" he hummed, dragging the vowels out to a degree that you found annoying. "But that was before I realized how good you could be... if you'd just let yourself."

There's a momentary pause between the two of you, your expression of grimace only souring while his delight seemed to only increase. One of you was breaking tonight, and you both knew it wasn't gonna be him.

"Look," you said, forcing your voice to steady despite the tremor running through your limbs, "I'm not interested in playing your games or whatever sick idea you have in that head of yours. Just… let me be."

"And miss out on all this fun?" he shot back, feigning shock as he gestured around him with exaggerated flair. "You wound me, Tiny. Here I am trying to offer a little relief, and you're turning me down? How rude!"

"Of course I do, what would I even get out of this?"

He stays quiet for a moment, tilting his head slightly as if truly mulling over what you said "You don't listen well," he huffed, crossing his arms "I already laid out my goals and what you'd get, you get pleasure, and a bit of relief, and all I would really get is your blood and maybe the satisfaction of seeing you let go, even if just for a moment."

He wasn't entirely wrong, some sick, desperate part of you wanted to entertain the idea despite how your skin crawled at the thought of him touching you. But the gnawing pain in your abdomen urged you to reconsider. You hated him; no, you loathed him. But as your gaze flickered downward, seeing blood smeared across your inner thighs and the desperate ache of the situation tightened around your chest like a vice.

"Just think about it," Jasper continued, "One little distraction could help you forget all this… pain." He gestured at the space around you. "And who knows? You might even find it enjoyable."

"Just… stop," you finally managed, your voice trembling. "You're sick."

"You say that but you go on to not outright deny me."

You felt your stomach twist at his words, the insinuation hanging heavily in the air between you. "I'm not denying you anything because I refuse to give you the satisfaction," you said, the remnants of your defiance cracking under the weight of your discomfort.

Jasper stepped closer, his gaze piercing through the fog of shame and pain enveloping you. "You're not even being honest with yourself. Every time you squirm, every little gasp—it tells me everything I need to know." He leaned down, almost nose-to-nose with you. "You want relief just as much as I want... well, you."

You inwardly frown, wishing you could just push him away, to slap that smug grin off his face— "I... I don't know," you whisper, your voice barely audible. The words felt heavy on your tongue, thick with doubt and a hint of want you couldn't quite squash.

Jasper's eyes lit up, sensing your wavering resolve "You see? It's not so hard to be honest, Tiny." You hated that he was right, and it made you sick to your stomach. The way he studied you—like you were a puzzle he was dying to solve—made you sick. But beneath that crawling sensation, there was the undeniable truth of your body, of the ache that you prayed came from a place anywhere but desire.

"You could make this easier on yourself," he urged, leaning closer until you could feel the heat radiating from him. "And trust me, I can be very... gentle." The last word dripped with an unsettling sweetness that sent another wave of revulsion rippling through your body.

"Gentle?" The word slipped from your lips before you could stop it, laced with incredulity. "Is that what you call this…"

For once, however, he doesn't respond. Just simply staring at you with a look you rather not name.

"If… If I agree, will you at least promise not to bite or anything weird?" The question slipped out before you could think to hold it back, your heart pounding in your chest as the weight of your own words sank in.

Jasper's expression shifted, surprise flickering across his face before morphing into that infuriatingly perverted grin. "Oh, Tiny, that's adorable. You think I'm just going to bite you? I mean, you really should trust me by now." You flinch reflexively once he places his hand on your thigh.

You couldn't help but curse yourself for the way your breath hitched at his touch.

"Trust is a funny thing, don't you think?" he mused, his voice low and teasing. "It's such a fragile little thing, easily shattered." He paused, watching your face closely as if searching for any sign of weakness. "But I guess I'll promise just this once, no biting. Just… pleasure."

You swallowed hard, your heart racing at the implication of his words. It felt like a sick joke—like when he'd laugh in your face when you had asked him about a change of clothes. Each pulse in your abdomen, whether it be from pain or something more, seemed to echo louder in your ears.

"Just… get it over with then," you muttered, almost as if you were in a trance. You hated yourself for even considering this, but if you were going to end up as a meal for him, what's the point in not indulging yourself? Even with scum like him, you probably weren't any different from him when it came down to it anyways.

Jasper's eyes sparkled with a mixture of excitement and something darker as he straightened up from his crouch. "That's more like it, Tiny, just let yourself relax."

"Easier said than done," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. Keeping your gaze focused on the ceiling, you felt Jaspers slide his hand higher along your thigh, his fingers grazing your skin lightly. With a surprisingly gentle touch, he pushed your legs apart, the cool air sending a shiver through you as his palm pressed against your skin. 

"See? Not so bad," he said softly, almost coaxingly, as if this were just another game he played with his dogs. "I told you I can be gentle," he murmured closer to where you were most vulnerable, his breath cool against your blood-dampened skin. Though you aren't looking, you can tell he's staring, completely enamored with the way blood slowly leaked through.

Whispering something too quiet for you to hear, he swipes a thumb through your cunt, collecting blood before bringing it to his lips. Making a show to savor the taste to let you hear what he was doing, and even though you didn't see directly the imagery was enough to make your stomach chur.

"Delicious," he whispered, "Just like I remembered— You taste like a fine wine."

A part of you wished he'd just shut up, but the other part of you—deeply buried beneath layers of fear and disgust—found itself quivering in response, drawn into him.

"Stop-" you managed to choke out, your voice trembling as you turned your head away, refusing to meet his gaze. "Stop dragging it out."

"So impatient," He whispered, but even with that comment he still somewhat listens to your plea. His fingers slipped inside you with startling ease, blood making it easy for him to slip in and out, the intrusion foreign. The sensation was overwhelming, wet squelches and soft whimpers echoing in the otherwise silent room.

It was… weird, you suppose, the way his fingers curled inside of you, pulling out gushes of blood. The way his fingers dragged and pressed against your gummy walls was enough to pull out the slickness of arousal. Forcing soft, pathetic whimpers and gasps from your cracked lips.

"See? I knew you were just aching for a chance to let go," Jasper taunted, "You're a walking contradiction."

Forcing yourself to focus on the way his fingers seemed to perfectly grind against that one spongy spot inside of you that had your thighs quaking, rather than what he was saying you felt a shameful heat creeping up on you It was wrong, all of it, but when you've become so touch-starved how could anyone blame you for the way you practically ached for when his fingers seemed to brush up against such sensitive places inside of you? At Least you'd put up a good fight, rather than letting him have his way flat out.

"Doesn't it feel good?" Jasper whispered, his tone laced with playfulness, his pace steady yet maddeningly relentless. You could hear the smirk in his tone, and could almost picture the twisted satisfaction dancing in his eyes. "You're practically begging for more."

"Shut up," you gasped, trying to sound defiant even as whimpers and moans spilled from you. You can feel him laughing to himself as he shifts positions, "Careful what you wish for," He said, his breath cold against your cunt "Cause maybe I will find something to shut myself up with."

You barely had time to register his words before he shifted closer, warmth and wetness and hotness suddenly enveloping you as his mouth latches onto you, tongue taking long, dreadful laps at your hole to lick up all of the blood that's been gushing out of you.

The sensation of Jasper's tongue lapping at your cunt sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through your veins. His tongue expertly flicks and sucks at your sore, swollen folds while his fingers continue to pump into you, scissoring and curling against spots he's long since figured out to have you weeping. It's too much, yet somehow not enough.

"God, Tiny," he groans against your flesh, "You taste even better than I remember." You wish he'd just shut up, that he'd stay quiet while he lapped at your cunt like a starved man. But he doesn't, and it somehow only worsens your arousal, the vibrations of his voice pressed so plush against your clit has shivers being sent through your body.

You swear that you would think that man is in heaven with how he's so desperate to lick up every last drop of you, blood arousal and all. Slurping and moaning as if you're the most delectable thing he's ever had. His fingers are relentless, pumping in and out of you, as his tongue laps at your clit with a single-minded focus that would be insulting if it weren't for the way your body was reacting.

You can feel it, the knot in your lower belly slowly tightening and pulling taut as he continues to tongue and fingerfuck you.

The room becomes a cacophony of sounds: the wet, slurping noises that he makes as he licks and sucks at your core, the harsh panting of your own breath, and the soft whimpers that escape your lips in response to his ministrations. You're disgusted with yourself, knowing that you're all but begging for more, but you can't seem to stop. The pleasure clouding your judgment, making you forget — if only for a fleeting moment — where you are and who's doing this to you.

"That's it," Jasper groans, his voice low and guttural as if he's fighting to control himself. "You like that, don't you? You like it when I make you feel good."

"J-just shut up," you manage to gasp out between heavy breaths. Your thighs squeezed around his face as you struggled to ground yourself. Arching into his touch with every thrust of his fingers, every time his palm would grind up against your clit, with each and every flick of his tongue pulling you closer to the edge.

"Fuck," you whimpered, caught between horror and a sickening thrill as the knot in your belly twisted tighter. You could feel it building, that sweet pressure, the urge to let go— to entirely forget where you are and who's doing this to you. "Jasper-" You croak, squirming in his grasp as you reach an end you simultaneously wanted to meet and dreaded.

"Just let it happen," he crooned against you, voice muffled against your dampened skin. His fingers curled deeper inside you, hitting that perfect spot with every thrust, coaxing out the sweet tension that had been tightening in your core.

"I don't want to—" you gasped, but the words slipped away as a deep moan escaped your lips. Brows furrowed and your eyes squeezed shut.

"Jasper—please," you gasped, the plea slipping from your lips before you could stop it. You hated how desperate you sounded.

He chuckled darkly, a sound that sent chills down your spine. "Please what? You want me to make you come?"

"God— Please, I don't know-" Your rush through your words, mind much too hazy to truly care about the humiliation you felt. You were so close, teetering on the brink of something incomprehensible, as if you'd be driven mad by pleasure. "Fuck, just please let me cum,"

Your begging only eggs Jasper on more, his fingers settling deep inside of you as his palm grinded mercilessly against your abused cunt. Blood and arousal are readily eaten up by Jasper as he finally pushes you over the edge. You felt the world around you shatter into a kaleidoscope of color as the waves of ecstasy crashed over you. Your vision blurred, the edges of your reality fraying as Jasper's relentless pace pushed you toward that brink.

You could barely contain the cries that ripped from your throat as your body tightened around his fingers, pulsing rhythmically in time with the intense jolt of pleasure that coursed through you like electricity. You bucked against him, thighs shut tight around his face as your body seized in a final shuddering climax.

As you spiral into the blissful void, every shred of awareness tearing away from the harsh reality of your situation. The sheer intensity of it left you gasping, your body trembling uncontrollably as waves of sensation washed over you like a fierce tide.

"Look at you," Jasper murmured, reviling in your still trembling body "You're actually kinda beautiful when you let go like this." He chuckled to himself, slowly withdrawing his fingers.

"That was quite the sight," he said, patting your inner thigh as a sort of praise.

You find it impressive how you only manage to look at him now after all that has just happened, his entire lower face covered in red— Which albeit not an entirely foreign sight, but the knowledge of where the blood came from made your earlier contentment fade away. What made you feel sick though was the two fingers he was showing off, two thick blood clots connecting his crimson-red fingers. Your Gaze briefly flickered towards him for a moment, intending to look away the moment you locked eyes— But for whatever reason you didn't, you watched as he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean.

Funny how your earlier pain did significantly lessen, just to end with you feeling sick by something else.