It's late, the numbers on my digital clock reading 4:09 a.m. My tiny space heater has made my cubby hole of a room warm and comfortable, so much so that I am at ease with my nudity as I try to drift to sleep. Sleep of course, doesn't come. It has abandoned me, in its place, stress and longing reside. I get up and walk to the bathroom, barely a yard away from my bedroom door, unconcerned if either of my male roommates see me. With steady hands I turn on the faucet and wait a moment, letting the water draw to its coldest. Slipping my hands under the cold liquid I relish a shiver that escapes my body, making my nipple erect. I cup the water and pour it over the back of my neck, over my breasts. The slide of the water is the closest thing I have to human hands. I move my head down to the faucet and lap at the water with my tongue like a thirsty cat until the gnawing in me is somewhat clenched.

Walking back into my room I stretch my long body and catch my reflection in the mirror as I do so. High breasts, small waist, round hips that lead, if I say so myself, to a great ass. But what does this matter? They go unappreciated, at best. The catcalls and whistles mean nothing to me, they are just passerby's astounded by my confusing type of beauty. With my pin up figure, leather jacket, cowboy boots and red and black short hair, they're not really sure why their cock jumps to meet the zipper of their pants, they're just happy to know it still works.

I pace my cubby hole, my black kitten Bellatrix eyeing me playfully. She used to be so scared, now she's a cocky little thing that loves to play and pounce. She rolls onto her back and puts her paws in the air, wanting her tummy rubbed. My hand reaches into her black silky fur and I rub softly, not at all surprised when I find it is a trick as her tiny fangs bite into my hand as her little paws try to hold it still for her to nibble on. A smile plays across my lips before I take back my hand and lie back down.

Burrowing my hand underneath my pillow, I find my new black bullet, waiting for me to be in need of its service again. I switch it on, feel the slight vibrations of the first setting, letting myself feel the power through my fingertips. Sliding it down my torso I spread my legs and as the bullet first touches my clitoris, I switch it up to the second setting. My back arches into my new toy and a moan escapes my lips as thoughts of her fill my head.

Her tongue, soft and pink, licking gently over my quivering body, teeth, small, white, and beautiful, biting into my flesh. I would love to bleed for her. I can feel her delicious weight on top of me, thrusting into me. I look up and see her beautiful face, eyes closed, eyebrows arched, her lovely mouth in the shape of an O as she found her pleasure with me.

I push my bullet up to its highest setting, making the visions more clear, more real. The closer I am to my orgasm the more real she is on top of me. I look up at her with perfect love and perfect trust as she thrusts the strap on inside me and my legs wrap tightly around her waist. Back arched, my breasts push into hers and I cling to her in an animalistic way, not wanting to ever let go.

The pressure is too intense, my orgasm building to quickly, yet I can't stop it now. I can barely whisper, "Goodbye my Love," before I cum, my whole body shaking with it's force. Her body slowly disappears and I don't even bother to reach for it anymore, knowing there is no use.

Sleep is on me now, but this time I fight it, and get up. I grab my pink silk robe and pull it around me, grab the sheath of knives from my dresser. In bare feet I pad down the stairs to my concrete basement and turn on the solitary light bulb to illuminate the darkness. With budding skill, I feel the hilt of the first knife in my fingers, play with it a little, before I arch my shoulder and let the blade leave my fingertips. I hear a solid Thunk and smile, the knife landed deeply into the middle of my wooden target. I pick up the second one, envisioning the stress falling from my body as I took aim and threw again, the second landing deftly beside the first. I keep throwing until my target is a mess; a beaten woody pulp of splinters.

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