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For All The Wrong Reasons	By : darqstar Category: G through L > House of 1000 Corpses Views: 4942 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own House of 1000 Corpses, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
LEGAL DISCLAIMER: I do not in any way own any part of the movies House of 1000 Corpses or The Devil's Rejects. I do not own most of these characters. They are the property of Rob Zombie, Liongate films, and whoever else holds a commercial or property license over them. This is fan fiction, intended for the sole purpose of entertainment. No one has been paid to write or host this story. No one is paid or will have to pay to read it.

THE STORY ITSELF DISCLAIMER: This story is rated NC-17, for disturbing images and excessive violence as much if not more than sexual contents. If stories involving murder, rape, extreme violence, cannibalism, humiliation, and so on, are not your cup of tea, DO NOT READ IT. If you are under the age of 18 don't read it either.

This chapter is an edited repost
Specific Chapter Warning: M/F, oral, n/c, reluc.

Chapter Ten

I'm The One That You wanted

When I returned to Otis's room, I noticed some changes from when I was dragged out of the box earlier. The window was open; that was a refreshing change from the rot and decay that normally hung in the air. The pile of dirty clothes that had been strewn in the corner since that first day had vanished. The bed was also properly made and appeared to have clean sheets. I don't know if Otis had done this domestic duty, or if another family member, Mama, had decided it was time and did it herself. This didn�t make me as happy as it should have. You'd think, after all the squalor and filth, I'd have been thrilled. I'd had a shower, and now the room was somewhat clean, too. But the changes made me uncomfortable; was something new to be expected of me? The Otis before was bad enough, but an Otis who reeked of booze and kept a clean room? What was this Otis going to do to me?

He was standing by the window when I came in, wearing nothing but a pair of threadbare , relatively clean-looking jeans. When he saw me, he looked me over, a slow smile spreading over his lips. �Not bad,� he said as he nodded.

I stood, frozen, afraid to move until I knew what he wanted of me. He had a look in his eyes I wasn't used to. It reminded me a bit of the look he had in his eyes the night Baby brought me up to him - that half-amused, predatory look - but tonight, his eyes were more somber and crazed. He crossed the room in two quick strides and stood in front of me. �Turn around,� he hissed.

I didn't want to turn my back to him, but I wasn�t about to disobey him so I turned around. He moved closer, so that he was right behind me. I half-expected him to wrap his hands around my throat; instead, he slipped his arms around my waist and pulled me close, so that my back pressed into his chest and stomach. I drew in a sharp, almost whimpered breath, and wondered what game this was; all I knew was that it couldn't be good for me.

�Shh,� he whispered into my ear, his voice low. �It's okay.� If it were anyone else saying this, I might have been comforted, but it was difficult to be reassured by a murdering rapist and my constant assailant. As he spoke, his hands wandered over my stomach and across my ribs, slowly and gently. His hands weren�t soft - callouses lined his fingertips and palms - but he moved these hands so slowly, and so gently, that there was something almost sensual in the motions.

He pulled me into him, continuing to feel my ribs and stomach. I kept expecting his hands to move, but he was confining himself to my stomach. My body trembled. �Just relax,� he whispered, lips so close I could feel them tickling my ear. �Close your eyes.�

I'd learned not to refuse anything he asked of me, so, even in my fear of the situation, I did as he asked of me. The moment my lids were closed, he drew my earlobe into his mouth and nipped at it. A jolt shot through me and my body trembled again. The nip was gentle; his teeth were barely scraping along the soft skin of my earlobe. My legs wanted to fold, but I willed them not to. He drew his attention away from my earlobe, and started to kiss my neck; soft, gentle kisses. He kissed from the base of my ear, down, and across to my throat. Then he kissed the tiny hollow in my throat, and drew his tongue up, across the area he'd just kissed. Then, he did the same to other side. When he licked up to the other ear, he nipped at that earlobe just as he had with the other. �Does this feel good?� he asked, his whispered breath tickling the inside of my ear, sending shivers up my spine.

I didn't want to anger or displease him, still, I told him the truth. �Yes.�

He paused, then shifted slightly and began to kiss down my neck. As he kissed along my throat, I caught the scent of baby shampoo - the same stuff I'd washed my hair with a few minutes ago. Apparently, I wasn't the only one to get cleaned up. His hands were still wandering over my stomach and ribs, but they began to move lower, across to my hips, and higher, between my breasts.

I was terrified. Not because I didn't know why he was doing this to me, but afraid for what I was feeling - for what he was making me feel. I knew this man intimately; I'd seen all the bits of him that made him male, countless times. I'd felt him inside me; I was even the one to help put him there the first time. I didn't think there could be anything about him that was a mystery - not anymore. I knew the scars on his body, the bumps, the tattoos, and all his imperfections. I think I even believed that I had a pretty good grasp of Otis mentally too. He was a sicko, a psycho, and a madman. The few times he'd shown me anything remotely akin to kindness he'd done it grudgingly, as if it irritated him to be nice. Although his personality traits weren't pleasant or fun, at least I knew them. I learned to know what to expect.

But, who was this Otis? Who was this man whose touch caused me to shiver, instead of quaking in fear? What was he doing that made it so that my body, instead of being afraid of his touch, was becoming more afraid that he would stop? What games did this Otis play? Would he continue this game of luring my body to respond, so that when I finally gave in and let my guard down, he could then snap my neck?

�Relax,� he whispered again, all the while kissing my neck. His right hand moved over so it was cupping my left breast. A gasp slipped from my lips as I remembered how he'd mauled my breasts the first night we'd spent together, but tonight he was gentle. �You're so tense,� he said, as his thumb traced around my nipple. When my nipple stiffened under his touch, I tried to tell myself it was cold in the room, ignoring the fact that the other nipple didn't seem to be affected by this sudden chill in the room.

�You got a boyfriend?� he whispered, as his other hand ran down my stomach, moving slowly further down. �Someone whose touch you're missing? Someone who's gonna miss you when you're dead?�

�No.� I was amazed at the normality of my voice. Though it was a bit unsteady, the fact that I could talk at all seemed like a miracle. His hands, his lips, his tongue, all moving over me at once, so slowly and methodically that it was the scariest experience I�d ever had.

�I didn't think you were a virgin before I took you.� His one hand continued to move down, past my belly to my thighs, while his other hand moved to my other breast and began to tease that nipple. �Then again, with the blood we used for lube, it would have been hard to tell.�

I should have been revolted by his words, especially being reminded of when he'd forced me to take the lead in my own rape, and what he'd forced me to do. That reminder should have made me burn with anger, made me upset, made me hate him for what he had done to me and what he was doing to me now.

Instead, I leaned into him, unable to stop my legs from trembling. He stumbled slightly, obviously not expecting me to do that - but he caught himself, and me. �Easy, little whore, easy.� He turned me around so I was facing him. �Maybe we'd better get you off your feet,� he grinned, as he wrapped his arms around me, slid them under my ass and pulled me into him. Then, he leaned down, put his mouth over mine, and kissed me.

This kiss wasn't like any kiss he'd given me before. Usually his kisses were dominating, demanding, and cruel. He liked to force his tongue in my mouth until I'd feel like I was going to gag on it. He'd press his lips so hard to mine that when he was done with me, it felt as if I'd been whacked in the mouth instead of kissed.

This kiss was completely different. There was a sense of urgency about the kiss, but it wasn't forceful. Instead of invading my mouth with his tongue, he eased it in, exploring my mouth with it, until my own tongue was playfully exploring his mouth. I felt like he was devouring me - not out of psychotic, sadistic cruelty - but out of pure need.

As we kissed, he led me to the bed. His hands were running down my back, over my ass. When we got to the bed, still kissing, he guided me down on it, and then carefully climbed on top of me. He didn't need to push me or arrange my legs as he usually did; I spread them willingly so he could lay between them. He pressed his groin to mine, slowly, as he continued to kiss me. Just like that first night, I felt his arousal through the denim and cotton, but tonight, even that was different. I found myself pressing up to meet him. I found my hands moving over his back, as his hands moved slowly up and down my sides.

When he broke off the kiss, I was ashamed at how I moved my head, trying to lure his mouth back to mine. Even worse than that, I think he knew. He grinned down at me. �So, was I your first?�

I shook my head. �How many before me?� he asked, as he started kissing down my neck.

�One,� I whispered.

�Serious?� he asked, leaving a trail of kisses down my neck.

I was gasping at the fire-and-ice effect his lips were having on my skin. �Yes,� I managed to say.

�What happened?� He started kissing my right breast, lightly, slowly caressing my skin with his lips.

His voice sounded so normal, I was almost insulted by the lack of effect I was having on him, save for the hardness of his groin pressed to mine. Even with the denim and cotton keeping the beast at bay, it was obvious the kissing and groping was getting a rise out of him. �J-just didn't work out,� I whispered, sinking my head into the pillows. The bed smelled of sun-dried linen instead of the usual rotten decay. Even the quilt had been washed, and smelled as if it had spent most of the day on a clothesline. �We broke...up ... just... before... graduation.�

�What was his name?�

�Danny.�

The name of my former lover was barely out of my mouth, when Otis's lips wrapped around my left nipple and he began sucking on it gently. A small cry sprang from my lips.

There was no more talking for awhile as Otis gave his full attention to my breasts; kissing, licking, and gently nipping at them. Tiny, kitten-like noises were coming from within my throat, and my hands were moving up and down his back, through his hair, unleashed, as if they had a mind of their own.

After giving my breasts more than ample attention, Otis started kissing my chest, and down across my stomach. �Did you love him?� he whispered, between the kisses and licks.

It took me a moment to remember he meant Danny. �Uh... I thought I did. I think I did then.� I paused to gasp as he started kissing around my navel. �But... it just didn't .... work... out.�

�Mmm.� He continued kissing around my belly-button, before swirling his tongue around it, then into it. No one had ever paid any attention to my navel before, not even Danny. �Did you and he make love?� he asked.

�Yeah.� I licked at my lips, still running my fingers through his hair. There was a part of me that was fighting to remember that this situation was really weird. Otis never talked to me, yet here he was, asking me all sorts of questions - intimate questions. But, at that moment, I was just too caught-up in the moment to take much notice.

�Aw, c'mon, did the two of you make love, or did you screw like little fuck-bunnies?�

He rested his chin on my stomach. I looked down at him and saw the gleam in his eyes. �Make love,� I said, trying to sound properly indignant, but failing miserably.

�Mmmm...� He started swirling his tongue around and across my belly-button again. �What did he look like? Was he handsome?�

It took me a moment to even remember what Danny looked like. �Average,� I whispered. �Brown hair; it�s darker than mine. Brown eyes, too. About six-feet tall, a little on the skinny side; he liked swimming and running, that kept him thin.�

He had stopped working over my belly-button and was now trailing kisses lower. �Did you ever go down on him?�

�A few times,� I admitted, hoping I wouldn't blush. Like most guys, Danny had really liked oral sex, particularly if he was the one receiving it. I was a bit less enthusiastic about the subject myself, but I'd done it to please him.

�Did he ever return the favor?� He ran one hand up and down my leg, as he kissed lower still. His free hand moved up to caress my breasts.

�Once,� I whispered, closing my eyes and getting lost in the sensations pouring through me. Part of me knew I should be cautious, and that I should be fighting the feelings I was having - there was no way this would have a good ending - but another part of me was not going to let that stop me from wanting whatever else he had to give me. Life had been one miserable thing after another since I got here; my body and mind were not going to pass up this sweet chance to enjoy it. �He ... mmm ... didn't like it ... mmm ... much.�

Otis had moved himself lower while I had been talking. Now his head was between my legs. �He was a fucking idiot,� Otis said, and set to work doing what Danny had disliked so much. If Otis disliked doing it, he sure had learned how to fake it. Within seconds, I was arching my back, squirming like a fish on a hook. I'd stopped running my fingers through his hair, afraid I'd be unable to control myself and I'd start trying to yank it from of his head. Instead, I grabbed onto the quilt, grasping it and twisting it in my hands.

Somewhere along the line, Otis had gained some serious experience with women who weren't dead, and whom he wasn't raping. And whoever these women were, they had taught him well. Later, I would be ashamed and embarrassed at how I acted, but at that moment, I was unable to think about anything but what that man was doing with his tongue and fingers. Maybe Danny and I had that puppy-love thing going for us, but those nights that were shared in his tiny, off-campus apartment seemed amateur and foolish, like the games of two children, compared to the raw passion Otis was bringing out in me now.

He worked me as though I was a delicate instrument that needed fine-tuning, doing everything with gentle precision. He brought me to the edge, and each time I felt ready to topple over it, he would slow down or stop completely until the wave passed, then go right back at it. It was both wonderful and frustrating, and part of me wondered if that was the game: take me almost to the top of the crest, but refuse to let me go the last half-mile, so to speak.

After about three times of this �Oh so close, and yet so far� treatment, I was shaking and about ready to chew the wallpaper off the walls. The entire experience was mind-blowing. It seemed, in a lot of ways, like I was with a stranger who'd taken over Otis's body, but I couldn't forget that this was still Otis - the man who tormented me, and controlled me at all times. I couldn't very well grab him by the hair and demand he finish what he started.

I was gasping for air and trembling, when he abruptly stopped. I looked down at him, and noted he was smiling. Since I trusted him about as far as I could toss an anvil, I wasn't sure I liked that grin.

He reached up and moved my legs so they were no longer over his shoulders, but spread apart on either side. He started kissing up across my body urgently; again, keeping the glow going without taking me all the way.

He kissed up to my neck, then up to my mouth. He kissed me on the lips; again, exploring my mouth with his tongue. Then he kissed over to my ear. I was pressing my groin into his. �Something on your mind?� he whispered.

�What are yo-� I began, then stopped, remembering again who this was, and not wanting to demand anything from him.

�Don't stop,� he said, as he licked behind my ear. �You want something, don't you, my little whore? Tell me.�

�You know what I want,� I whimpered.

�No, I don't,� he teased, still kissing my neck. One hand had moved up to stroke my breasts again. �If you don't want to tell me, then show me.�

For some reason, touching seemed easier than talking. I snaked my hand between us and reached for his jeans. With trembling fingers, I unsnapped his jeans, and tugged the zipper down. He raised his hips slightly to allow me better access. While I was doing this, he put his mouth to mine, and started kissing me again, hard and deep. As I returned his kiss, I found myself raising my legs until my feet were up at his waist. I had never done anything like this before, not even with Danny, but I hooked my toes into the waistband of his jeans and began pushing them down over his hips. He broke off our kiss and looked at me. �Okay, that's a pretty good start, never had a girl do that to me before.� He helped me getting his pants off, by moving his body so I could push them past his knees. Once I did that, it was no trouble to pull them off completely. The underwear was even easier.

When he was completely naked, he raised himself on his arms and looked at me. �You want this, don't you?�

I nodded.

�Are you my whore?� he asked. He moved closer, his cock springing against my anxious loins.

I nodded again.

�Don't nod, tell me.� His voice wasn't as harsh as it usually was when ordering me about, but I still sensed that menace under the surface.

�I'm your whore,� I whispered.

�Always?� He moved a little closer. I could feel him, and, just like the first night, it felt hot - but unlike the first night, I welcomed the heat. So close, and yet still not close enough.

�Always,� I said, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice, but knowing I wasn't doing well.

�Tell me how much you want me,� he ordered. I knew he wanted this, too - his body was telling me it did - but he was able to keep control a lot easier.

�I want you,� I said. I stared into his eyes, so he could see I wasn't messing around here. �You don't know how bad I want you.�

He snorted, still teasing me. �That's no help. Find the words, bitch.�

I was pushing my hips into him, trying to get him inside me, but he was evading me. �I need you,� I said. My brain was whirling as though I'd drunk too much wine. My body was screaming for this, telling my brain to help me get what it needed. �I'm your fucking whore, and I need you,� I said. �Fuck me, Otis. Because if you don't, I think I'm going to die.�

�Close,� he said, pressing into me, just a fraction more, a taste. �So very close... but not quite enough.�

�Stop this, it's torture,� I gasped. �I don't care if you want to stab me, beat me, or choke me to death, just give me this one last thing. Please, Otis, I'm begging you - fuck me, fuck your whore.�

Still looking me in the eyes, he pushed himself forward, sealing himself inside me with one sure stroke. That was all I needed to push myself over the edge. My back arched and I pushed against him, wrapping my legs around his waist as if I intended to keep him inside me forever.

�That's my little whore,� he murmured into my ear.

�Oh god, oh god, oh god,� I gasped, like a chant. My legs were still shaking as I unlocked them from around his waist. �Oh. My. Fucking. God.�

�God has nothing to do with this,� he said, as he started moving slowly, deliberately starting to tease me up again. �You got the devil inside you tonight, whore, and you love it.�

Those words should have scared me, but they didn't. If anything, they turned me on. �It was fantastic.�

�Was?� He snorted. �Bitch, you ain't seen nothin' yet.�

He was absolutely right.
**********
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For All The Wrong Reasons

I'm The One That You wanted