Beautiful Nightmare

"Scorched Earth Erotica"--Cradle of Filth

I had a pretty fun week.

It was really as Freddy had said—the neighbors HAD heard my screams that night. So imagine their shock when I stepped outside the next day to go shopping. The lady in the house next to mine actually shrieked. I just waved a little and got into my car.

I admit, I was still very sore from that night, and the pain didn’t really stop until three days later, but even by the end of the week, people were still giving me funny or cautious looks. I guess word of my night sounds traveled fast. Still, I had some fun with it. I took to humming that “1, 2, Freddy’s coming for you” singsong while waiting in line, and actually made some poor dear who was doing her shopping drop her groceries and run away.

This town is turning out to be very fun.

The end of the week finally came, and quite curiously, I still haven’t had any dreams of Freddy. That meant one of three things—one, it really had all been a dream; two, Freddy wasn’t exactly stressed yet; or three, he was just too busy.

I was kind of leaning toward one or three.

Anyway.

It was Friday night now, and I had nothing to do. Than sleep, anyway. I had already gone to the mall earlier to pick up a new book and to Victoria’s Secret to pick up a lacy white negligee (I figured that Freddy had something of a fetish for white lacy dresses). I took a shower and put it on, then put in a CD (Rob Zombie), then crawled into bed, listening to Thunder Kiss as I willed myself to go to sleep.

Just like the last time, I didn’t really register when I had fallen asleep, but I suddenly sat up in bed, and my CD had just now begun playing “House of 1000 Corpses”. Charming and appropriate. I slipped out of bed and walked out of my room, and I didn’t even need to go down into the basement this time; right outside my bedroom was the boiler room. It was red-lighted and hot, and just after I opened the door, I could hear a gut-wrenching scream from the bowels of the room.

Ah. He was busy with another dream. I could come back later…

…Who the hell was I kidding?
I walked down the metal staircase, hearing the screaming get louder. It was coming from a larger area in the boiler room. I followed the screams and finally came upon the scene.

Yep, he was killing someone, alright. It was a blonde girl, about seventeen, and obviously a queen bee, from her looks. Anyone with a brain could see that her breasts were fake. And what was worse, Freddy seemed to be molesting her while he was cutting her arms, face, and chest open with is knives.

….That son of a bitch.

I deftly grabbed a hammer sitting on a row of pipes and stalked forward, just as Freddy was about to stab her with his knives again. Just before he swiped, I shoved him out of the way and bashed Queenie’s face in with the hammer. And then I did it again. And again. And once more with a quick switch to the back of the hammer. An eye came out with it. Whatever.

When her face was nothing more than a bloody crater, she fazed out of this plane of existence. I heaved a sigh and tossed the hammer aside, then heard a growl behind me and turned to see Freddy glaring at me, his eyes turned red.

“What…the fuck…!?” he snapped, his knives splaying dangerously. “She was MINE!!!” He dove for me and I jumped out of the way in time to grab a length of pipe on the floor and block his knives as they came down on me again, but I was knocked to the floor.

“…Hello to you too, Freddy,” I said flatly, struggling to keep his knives off of me. “Jolly fine greeting, but I cant help but wish for a ‘happy to see you’.”

Freddy snarled at me and grabbed the pipe to wrench it out of my hands and yank me to my knees by the front of my new night dress. “Just who the fuck do you think you are?” he growled, clinking his knives. I grabbed the front of his own shirt and yanked him closer to me.

“Jealous,” was all I said. His eyes went from red to blue.

“…What?” Wow. I think I shocked him.

“Forgive me if I’m a bit crazy,” I said, unclenching my fist from his shirt and pressing my palm to his chest. “…But I just got a little…peeved, when I saw you running your hands all over her…I thought that’s what I was kept alive for…” I gave him by best pout. I saw his eye twitch.

“…You are one demented bitch,” he commented. I gave him a sweet smile. “…I’m surprised they haven’t had you committed to Weston Hills yet…”

“Yeah, me too,” I said. “You should’ve seen the look on Mrs. Tanner’s face when I went outside the day after…she actually screamed.” Freddy finally cracked a smile.

“Told you they would think I killed you,” he said.

“Mmmyep,” I replied. I shifted my eyes up to him. “And you didn’t even comment on my nice new nightgown I bought just for you…” Freddy took a step back and gave me a once-over, his eyes lighting up.

“…However did you know?” he finally asked. I gave him another smile.

“Call it a hunch,” I replied. “I figured that you liked the image of a pretty young innocent girl, ripe and ready to be plucked like a little flower…”

I could practically see Freddy drool at the description. With a soft growl, he pulled me to him, and I could feel that he was hard. “That’s what I see…” he drawled, stroking his knives down the sheer material. “Would you care to, ah, break it in?”

“I didn’t come all the way down here to smash a girl’s face in,” I replied. Freddy grinned, then pulled me in for a bruising kiss. I kissed back and pulled him closer, pressing my body to his. Freddy suddenly shoved me back, but instead of hitting hard floor, I found myself back in my room on my bed with him looming over me.

“I recall you saying you wanted to do this in your bed this time,” he said lewdly. I laid back in an innocent pose.

“You recall right,” I replied. “I am at your mercy.”

“Ooh, my favorite game,” Freddy quipped, his eyes glowing in the dim lighting. His knives twitched with anticipation. “Whatever I tell you to do, do it.” I nodded. “Lie back.” I did so. “Pull that dress up over your stomach. Now spread your legs.” I parted my legs a little and saw Freddy’s expression lighten in delight. “Put your hands near your head. Don’t do anything with them.” I lifted my arms a little and let my hands rest near my head on either side. Freddy crawled up on my bed and straddled my hips, making sure to let me know that he was still hard. “This brings back memories, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” I said, feeling warm in my face. Freddy smirked and reached forward to unlace the little ribbon that held the top half of the dress together and parted them, leaving my chest bare. He leaned down and squirmed between my legs, and I could feel a pulsing in his cock through his pants and my lacy panties. He kissed me again and ground his hips into mine, dry-humping me roughly.

I clenched my hands into fists tightly, moaning into his mouth as he rode me hard. I bent my knees up and out and thrusted my hips back up to his.

‘You like that, don’t you, bitch?’ I heard his voice in my head. I pulled back from the kiss and took a deep breath.

“Fuck…yes…!” I gasped, my chest heaving. Freddy laughed and sat back up on his knees, then unbuckled his belt and dropped it next to him, then undid his pants and pulled his cock out.

“Do you want my cock, little slut?” he taunted, touching himself. I fought to keep my hands where they were.

“Yes…!” I hissed back. Freddy clenched my panties in his hand and tore them off.

“You’re already dripping wet,” he remarked. “You must really want it.”

“I do!” I groaned, squirming around. Freddy leaned forward on one hand near my side and positioned himself over my pussy and nudged the tip against my clit, stroking it with agonizing tease. “Freddy….! Fuck me!”

“How can I resist when you ask so prettily?” he purred, then he shoved himself in hard, making me arch up and scream from the sudden intrusion. He sat back up on his knees and parted my legs wider with his hands, rocking his hips hard and fast. I kept my hands where he instructed and cried out and groaned.

After a minute or two, he suddenly pulled out and threw me to my stomach, hauling my lower body up onto my knees. I clenched my hands into my bed sheets and spread my legs wider. He put his left hand on my sacrum and thrusted back in, speeding up his thrusts. I moaned and pushed my hips back. He pressed my hips down to the bed and straddled my thighs, his hips slamming into mine hard and making the bed shake with each thrust. I found myself wriggling into my bed, trying to create more friction.

Sex was never consistent with Freddy; he pulled out when he got bored with that position and leaned sitting up against my headboard, his legs parted. He pulled me up to him and pushed my head to his cock. I didn’t need to be told twice, and I sucked on the head before taking him into my mouth. My hands clenched into the top of his pants and I could feel his ungloved hand on top of my head, just resting there and occasionally tugging on my hair when he wanted me to go faster or deeper. Both of his hands then rested on my head and his hips bucked slightly, and I deepthroated him as much as I could.

Without cumming, Freddy pulled me up and into his lap, shifting me around until I sank down on him and sat in his lap with his cock inside me. I clenched his shoulders and raised up on my knees a little, then let them drop, crying out when I felt how deep he was inside of me. I kept it up, feeling myself exhaust quickly from the effort. Freddy slid down the headboard so he was lying flat on his back and I sat down on his cock for a momentary breather before grinding my hips back and forth, my hands resting on his stomach.

An orgasm hit me without warning, and I let out a short scream before collapsing on Freddy, my body shivering with pleasure.

“Tired already?” he quipped, poking at me with the tip of his index knife. “Lightweight.” He pulled me off of him and laid me face-down next to him
and pulled up my nightgown. He made a thoughtful sound, then spread my legs again and glided his ungloved finger into my ass. I yelped and squirmed around, not expecting anal. He pressed his gloved hand to my back, keeping me still. “Tense up too much, and I might tear something,” he commented, sounding almost like he would like that idea.

Not feeling like humoring him on THAT aspect, I kept my body as relaxed as I could, clenching the sheets in my hands and biting at them to keep from screaming as he added another finger. After a few minutes, he withdrew his fingers and replaced them with his cock, actually going slowly to avoid that tearing he seemed so fond of. I cried out and felt tears stream down my face as he inched his way in, swearing and panting above me. After a few more minutes, he was finally all the way in.

It hurt like Hell, and he hadn’t even began fucking me yet. I felt him shift around until he was lying with his lower body pressed to mine up to his stomach, and was propping his upper body up with his arms. I kept my body relaxed and rested my head to its side on the pillow, breathing heavily and glad he wasn’t lying RIGHT on top of me.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” he asked, and I could tell he was grinning.

“Kiss my ass.”

“May I fuck it first?”

“Sure, why not? You’re already in,” I shot back. Freddy laughed and leaned down to kiss between my shoulder blades.

“You’re a doll, Princess,” he murmured, then drew his cock out a little, making me grip the sheets again in pain, and then shoved back in. I screamed in pain, swearing worse than he did, and laid helpless beneath him as he fucked my ass hard, no doubt making a few of those tears along the way.

After a few minutes of the hack’n’slash-fest on my ass, it actually started to feel good. I kind of started seeing what those idiots who checked into hospitals on account of items stuck in their anal crevice were obsessed with. My screams turned into groans, and I even started to push back a little. Freddy sat back on his knees and hauled my legs over his thighs, and I could push back more easily.

I finally had to bend my knees, and Freddy put them back on the bed, then hauled my upper body up for easier access. I could feel his thrusts becoming more erratic and his swearing intensify, and knew that he was close to an orgasm. It was just the second before he came that I wondered where his semen would go up in my ass, but didn’t have time to ponder an answer to that before he did cum. He slammed inside of me with a loud “FUCK!” and I could feel liquid heat shoot up into my bowels.

I absently wondered if this was what an enema felt like.

He stayed there for a few moments, then pulled out and let go of my hips. I slumped to the bed, panting, then with some difficulty, turned over to face him. He was recovering quickly, and tucked his cock away into his pants before turning to me and pressing me on my back to the bed and parting my legs to give me oral. Compared to the recent encounter, oral was a rather gentle way to end a rousing round of sex.

I arched lightly off the bed and moaned, reaching down to keep his head in place and also indulging my apparent new fetish of touching third-degree burn scars. He flicked his tongue over my clit and sucked at it before delving his tongue into me, prodding around until I arched sharply and came, crying his name into my dark dream room.

Freddy sat up, licking his lips. “You were right,” he commented. “Your bed WAS better.”

I grinned through my pleasure haze and pushed my nightgown back down. “I know,” I replied. Freddy sat down next to me and lit up another one of those weird cigarettes of his, handing it to me after two drags. I took it without argument and took a long drag, feeling that pleasurable darkness and exhaling black smoke before handing it back to him. He polished it off, then suddenly turned toward the direction of his boiler room.

“…Duty calls,” he said, standing up and stretching. He turned and grinned at me. “And for the record, I was going to stop by after I killed that little tart. You need to have more patience.”

“And YOU need to visit more than once a week,” I shot back. “Send me a little tart of my own to smash with a hammer. We can go on a tart-slashing date or something.” Freddy snorted and walked toward the door, then paused before opening it.

“…I’ll see what I can do,” he said before walking through the door and shutting it behind him.

As soon as the door clicked shut, I woke up, immediately feeling the sharp pain in my ass. I was definitely calling in sick today. I managed my way into the bathroom and ran myself a nice hot bath. I stripped off my nightgown, amazed that it survived the night, and laid it in the laundry basket before slipping into the tub.

I think I dozed off because I woke with a start with my chin in the water. I sat up, ignoring the pain in my lower back, and noticed that there was something in my hand. I lifted it out of the water and gaped at it.

It was a brand-new, custom-made, right hand leather glove with glistening knives on the four fingertips.

I stared at it for a few moments, then smiled.

We might get that slasher date, after all.