The one-eyed man's whisper died in his throat as the iron gate at the end of the corridor clanged open. Torchlight spilled in, painting the dirt floor red. Heavy boots thudded closer, but it was not a group. Just one silhouette. Tall, swaying, hips rolling like she owned the whole damn slaughterhouse. She stepped into the cage's flickering light and every breath in the room hitched. Sylphie. Long silver-white hair cascaded down her back, catching the torch flames like liquid moonlight. Her skin was moonlight too. Pale, flawless, stretched tight over curves that made the rags she wore look obscene. A cropped leather top barely contained her full breasts, the laces straining. A short, tattered skirt clung to wide hips and thick thighs that flexed with every step. Her eyes were crimson, slitted like a cat's, and her lips, plump, glossy, painted with something that might have been berry juice or fresh blood, curled into a lazy, hungry smile. Two delicate fangs peeked when she spoke. "Mmm… fresh meat tonight," she purred, voice like velvet dragged over gravel. She inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring. "I can smell the fear… and something else. Something sweet." She ignored the one-eyed man entirely. He shrank into the corner, sobbing. Her gaze locked on me. I sat there on the dirt, still grinning. Because this, this was the world I'd begged for. Sylphie crouched in front of me, knees apart, skirt riding high enough to show the smooth, pale skin of her inner thighs. She tilted her head, silver hair spilling over one shoulder. "You're new," she murmured. Her fingers, long, black-nailed, traced my jaw. "Pretty face. Strong neck. I like them when they still have fight left." She leaned in until her breath ghosted my ear. "I bet you taste like defiance and adrenaline. My favorite." Behind me the one-eyed man whimpered, "Please, not him, he just woke." "Shut it, old bone," Sylphie snapped without looking. Then her voice dropped back to that silky tone just for me. "What's your name, little treat?" "Ken." "Ken…" She tasted the word like wine. "I'm Sylphie. And tonight, you're mine. All mine." She did not ask. Her hand shot out, fingers wrapping around my wrist like warm steel. With one effortless tug she hauled me to my feet. I stumbled, smaller body still adjusting to whatever this new world had done to me, but she did not let me fall. Instead she yanked me against her chest. Soft, heavy breasts pressed into me. She smelled like smoke, honey, and raw meat. "Walk or I drag you by that pretty throat," she whispered, lips brushing my ear. "Either way, you're coming with me." I smirked. "Lead the way, beautiful." Her laugh was low and throaty. She turned and pulled me out of the cage like a leash. The corridor was narrow, stone walls dripping with moisture. Every few steps she glanced back, crimson eyes raking over me like I was already on a spit. "You're not screaming," she noted, amused. "Most pretty boys cry when I pick them." "Not my style." "Good." She licked her lips. "I hate when they break too fast. I like to savor." We passed other cages. Moans, pleas, the wet sound of chewing from deeper in the den. None of it touched me. My blood sang. This was real. This was dangerous. This was finally interesting. Sylphie kicked open a heavy wooden door at the end of the hall. Warm firelight spilled out. Her private chamber, stone walls draped in furs, a massive bed piled with black silk sheets, chains hanging from the canopy like decoration. A table held knives, hooks, and a half-eaten thigh that still had a shoe on it. Classy. She slammed the door behind us and spun me around. Before I could speak she shoved me back against the wall, pinning my wrists above my head with one hand. Her body molded to mine, soft where I was hard, hot where I was cold. "Look at you," she breathed, nose trailing along my neck. "So tense. So alive. I can hear your heart racing. Delicious." Her free hand slid down my chest, nails scraping lightly over my shirt. "I'm going to make you feel so good before I bite down, Ken. I always do. Pleasure first then the feast." I chuckled, low. "You always talk this much before dinner?" "Only when the main course flirts back." She nipped my earlobe, just hard enough to sting. "Most meat begs. You… you want this, don't you?" "Maybe I do." Her thigh slid between mine, pressing up firmly. A soft, needy sound escaped her throat. "Mmm, I knew it. You're hard already. Naughty boy." Her lips found mine, hungry, wet, tasting of cherries and copper. Her tongue pushed in, claiming, swirling. I kissed her back just as hard. Why the hell not? This was the thrill I'd died for. She broke the kiss with a gasp, eyes glowing brighter. "You kiss like you want to eat me too. Cute." Her hand dropped lower, palming me through my pants, squeezing with expert pressure. "So thick… I bet you'll fill my mouth nicely before I swallow the rest of you." "Keep talking like that and I might make you work for it." Sylphie laughed, delighted. She released my wrists only to grab the front of my shirt and rip it open in one motion. Buttons pinged across the floor. Her palms roamed my bare chest, thumbs circling my nipples. "So smooth. So warm. I'm going to lick every inch before I open you up." She sank to her knees gracefully, silver hair pooling around her like a halo from hell. Her fingers worked my belt open, eyes never leaving mine. "Tell me, Ken… do you want my tongue first? Or should I use my tits? I can wrap them around you while I look up and beg for a taste." I threaded my fingers through her hair, gripping just hard enough. "Surprise me, cannibal." Her grin was feral. She tugged my pants down, freeing me. A soft, appreciative moan left her. "Oh, yes. Perfect. Look how it throbs for me." Her hot breath ghosted over the tip. "I'm going to suck you so slow… make you leak for me… then I'll drink every drop before I start on the rest of this delicious body." Her tongue flicked out, long, wet, impossibly skilled, circling the head in lazy spirals. She hummed around me, the vibration shooting straight up my spine. One hand stroked the base while the other cupped lower, rolling gently. "Fuck… you're good at this," I groaned. She pulled off with a wet pop, strings of saliva connecting her lips to me. "I've had lots of practice. But none of them tasted like you. None of them looked at me like they wanted to survive." She licked a long stripe from base to tip. "I think I'm going to keep you moaning for hours." I smirked down at her. "Big talk for someone who plans to kill me." "Kill you?" She kissed the tip sweetly. "No, pretty boy. I'm going to ruin you first. Make you beg to stay inside me. Then… when you're shaking and spent and still hard for more… that's when I bite." Her fangs grazed the sensitive skin, not breaking it, just promising. "Right here. While you're coming down my throat. Best flavor." She took me deep again, throat relaxing, swallowing around me with wet, filthy sounds. Her crimson eyes watered but never left mine, lust and hunger mixed in equal measure. One hand slipped between her own thighs, rubbing frantically under that tiny skirt. I tightened my grip in her hair, hips moving. She moaned encouragement, taking it, encouraging it. After long, mind-melting minutes she pulled off, gasping, lips swollen and shiny. "Enough teasing." She stood in one fluid motion, breasts heaving. "I want you on the bed. Now." Before I could move she shoved me hard. I stumbled back, calves hitting the edge of the massive silk-covered bed. Sylphie's eyes burned as she stalked forward, licking her lips. [Counter System Activated.] The notification flashed behind my eyes, cold and mechanical. [Host: Ken. Ability: Perfect Counter. Any attack, bite, or lethal intent directed at you will be automatically reflected with double force back at the attacker. Passive: Pleasure received is converted to strength. Current status: Sylphie's intent detected. Seduction to consumption. Counter ready.] I did not show it on my face. Let her think she was in control. Sylphie pushed me again, both hands on my chest. I fell back onto the soft black sheets, the mattress dipping under me. She climbed up after me, straddling my hips, skirt riding all the way up. No underwear. Just slick, heated skin pressing down on me. "Time to make you scream my name, Ken," she whispered, voice dripping sex and hunger. Her hands pinned my shoulders as she leaned down, silver hair curtaining us both. "Then I'll eat you alive." Her lips crashed into mine again, tongue demanding, body grinding slow and filthy against me. And the chapter ends right there. Me on my back, the beautiful cannibal Sylphie on top, the bed creaking beneath us, her promise of pleasure and death hanging thick in the air like smoke.
