Rebecc Yuri Snuff

The mothman giveth, the mothman taketh.
Small yuri variation of the following scene: https://pastebin.com/09Trh5FY


>Encounter Rebecc >Snuff >//Enjoy her body

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//Break point between having a cock or just a vagina
//Vagina variant:

You're nowhere near done yet, however. You quickly disrobe, eager to get started with the real treat. At the sight of your [vagina], Rebecc flinches, offering a weak, [say: Please... not that...] You're surprised she still has the strength to beg, but perhaps she should save that strength for what is to come. After all, there is only one way for you to truly be [i: connected], and she gave you just the right tool for it.

You brandish the girl's knife in your hand, running the edge almost teasingly along imaginary lines over the her pubis before gripping tight and ramming it into her most delicate flesh in one fell swoop. Her voice rings out when the blade enters her. It's her loudest scream by far, but no one is coming. She's all yours. A fresh, warm flood of blood flowing from her confirms you were more than a little sloppy. No matter, this only makes your treat even more delectable. The squirming sheep tries to shift away, but it's a trivial thing to pull her back and into position, intertwining your legs.

With a ravenous, wolfish grin on your face, you align your impatient hips and press the tip of the handle against your own drooling entrance. You feel a shiver running gloriously through you as the shoddy hilt sinks inside until her bleeding pelvis is pressed firmly to yours. A weak hand pushes against your chest, but none of the resistance she puts up could hope to stop a lowly imp, let alone you.

As you set in and start grinding, your hands roam over your claim, probing at her tender breasts, provoking weak flinches when you brush against a stray cut. Rebecc is crying nonstop now, but hardly makes any noise, her body having gone completely limp. It seems that she's finally surrendered to you, and this thought drives you wild. You mercilessly pound into her, repeatedly impaling yourself on the dagger's handle and her already battered body on the blade in turn, the rough treatment exacerbating the wounds from earlier and deepening the fresh gash. It's not long before not only your nethers, but the rest of your body is coated in her blood as well. You suddenly realize just how much she's losing.

The end is coming—yours and hers. Which will be first? Which would be better? The uncertainty is so thrilling. You're too excited, it's going too quick now, but you can't stop yourself. As the heady pleasure of taking the sheep-girl so viciously fills your mind, only a few things still register. The feeling of her soft, feeble body beneath you. The light fading in her eyes, the fire burning in yours. The blood pounding through your veins, the blood pumping out of hers. The sonorous melody of your voices merging into one harmonious concord of predator and prey, drowning out the wet slapping of flesh against bruised, bloodied flesh.

And somehow, almost miraculously, you reach the end together. Just as you crest your limit, the spark in her eyes flares and then expires as her life fades away. As your trembling hips mash into Rebecc's lifeless husk, you bite down on her shoulder and squeeze her tight against you, riding the broken doll as hard as you can. Despite the fact that nothing would ever come from this union, your walls do their best to milk the blood-soaked knife buried deep inside Rebecc.

After you're spent, you stay like this for some time, intertwined with the slowly cooling corpse. When strength finally returns to your limbs, you slump back, exhausted.

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