Inescapable Heat
Lily hasn’t yet looked away from James, the heat of before died down, she jumps at the sound of the zipper of the tent's opening being pulled down. Her eyes tear away from James’ bloody corpse to see Peter in the opening, a small serene smile forming on his face when he sees her there. Lily feels warmth flood her chest, and for a moment, she wonders if he might keep her around. He did say that he could tell she was different.
“I told you I’d come back for you,” He says, stepping into the tent, not bothering with the hazmat suit this time. As he steps into the light, Lily can see that he’s covered in dirt, and has blood on his sleeves and around his mouth.
He’s not being careful anymore, which must mean he got the rest of them- because he’s much too calm to have been found out. She can’t open her mouth to ask, or plead, or even call out, if that is what she wanted to do. The gag in her mouth was wet and cold, and really starting to bother her.
He crouches down beside her, stroking her hair.
“I have something special planned for you, little red.” He promises, before beginning to change the way Lily is tied up. She doesn’t fight. If she complies, maybe he’ll see that she can be good, and obedient, and he’ll let her live, or… Keep her around.
When her hands are tied, he cuts the ropes that hold her ankles to the weights, dragging the knife back up her legs, along her body, and holding it under her chin. Peter leans close, the knife pressing just firm enough to break the skin, and whispers. “I have prepared something special for you, little red. Do not try to run. It will not end well for you.”
Lily nods, a new wave of arousal hitting her. Peter, unaware, tugs her by her joined hands to sit up, and then to stand. She gasps, relishing in the rough treatment. He pushes her out of the tent, and when she stays put while he zips it closed behind them, he smiles.
“Good girl.”
She shivers, and it’s not from the cold.
Peter leads them through the woods, and Lily stumbles and trips along behind him, noticing as her eyes adjust from being in the light of the tent that it’s even darker than it was earlier. She looks up through the gaps of the trees, looking for the full moon, finding nothing but darkness.
Thunder rolls in the distance. Peter looks back at Lily. “Looks like I’ve gotten to you just in time. Though it will take quite the downpour to put out the bonfire I have for us.”
Lily feels a little thrill at the promise of us, something they would be doing together.
They continue further into the forest, Lily following Peter's footsteps as closely as possible so that she doesn’t continue to trip, only for Peter to turn around and trip her himself when she gets too close. She gasps as she falls heavily, unable to properly break her fall with her hands tied together so tightly, and Peter’s laugh fills the air around her, and she knows it’s just a game. He’s playing with her. It’s fine. He doesn’t wait for her to get up, and she scrambles up to follow him.
Soon, they reach a clearing, and she wonders how no one had come across this cottage since they had arrived for their camping trip.
It was quaint, beautiful she was sure, though she could not really see it right now.
What she could see, however, was a platform of logs, a pole in the middle of it, with cuffs at the top. It looked like one of those stakes that you used to burn witches on, and the thought of being tied up up there surrounded by fire had her pressing her legs together.
“I made this just for you.” Peter says to her quietly when she catches up, like it’s a secret.
Lily looks back at him with wide eyes.
“I’ve thought a lot about this, little red,” he continues, nodding for them to continue towards the structure.
Lily wonders what it would be like to be fucked against that pole, while cuffed in place. Looking up at it, the cuffs are almost too high for her to comfortably stand. Oh, this is like a wet dream. She had no idea Peter had even noticed her, let alone gauged a want from her that she didn’t know she had.
“Climb on up, little red,” Peter whispers in her ear from behind her, and so she does, with Peter close behind her. She can feel the heat of his body behind hers, smell the iron scent of blood.
She wants to hear him tell her how good she is again, and she stands with her back against the pole, her hands up towards the cuffs. She pouts at him, when her wrists don’t quite reach.
Peter chuckles, the smirk on his face softening her in a way it never had before today. Oh how did she never see it? That Peter was the guy for her, the kind of guy she never knew she needed. Gods, she had been walking through life blind before tonight.
“Hands on my shoulders, little red, and jump.”
She complies, arms around his neck as she jumps into his arms. He’s so much stronger than he looks.
“Good girl,” He praises, and she presses her forehead against his in an affectionate gesture. Peter responds by pushing her bodily against the pole, her head smacking against it with the force. In doing this he’s also pressed up against her core, and she moans. He wants her. She raises her hands, and this time, they comfortably reach the cuffs.
He presses harder against her and says, “Hold your legs tighter, little red.” When she does, he praises her again, and Lily’s heart is pounding- her breathing laboured, as he cuffs her to the pole really, really tight.
For a moment, he stays there, his hands coming down to cup her face, slowly removing the gag.
“Don’t be scared, little red,” he says, and she rolls her tongue, clearing her throat a little before responding, breathily,
“Why would I be scared?”
Peter raises his brow, and Lily surges forward to claim his lips. He freezes for a moment, and she doubles down, rolling her hips against him.
Peter gasps and shoots backward, wiping his mouth, but Lily’s legs are tight around him and she flies forward keeping Peter on the platform long enough that he can keep his balance, but her legs loosen as her wrists surge with pain. She drops heavily, finding if she stands on the very tips of her toes she can almost find relief.
“What the fuck.” Peter spits, scowling.
Lily can barely think, and it’s not just because of the ripping pain at her wrists, but the rejection that stings even worse than the sweat and dirt dripping into her open cuts.
“Filthy bitch.” Peter growls, backing up and climbing back off of the platform.
“No, no Peter where are you going?” Lily cries.
“Where do you think?” Peter says, looking back at her like shes an idiot. She’s clearly missed something here.
“To… Get a different knife?” She asks hopefully.
His brows furrow. “Dude, what? No. I’m getting an accellarant to start the bonfire.
“For ambiance?” She looks around, trying to find a bonfire. There's nothing else in this yard but the platform she stands on, and a small veggie patch on the other side of the yard.
Peter nods thoughtfully. “I suppose it will be quite a mood I’m setting, I have quite looked forward to this part of my evening. You are the main course, little red.”
When Peter starts pouring gasolene onto the wooden platform, it finally dawns on Lily that this might not be some kind of kinky sex thing, and that this is how he’s planning on killing her.
“What- what are you doing?” She asks, her voice shaking. She’s feeling a lot of things, but betrayal is right up there. She thought she was special, and that’s why he had allowed her to see James like that. That’s why he had saved her for last. That he had hoped to keep her around.
Peter doesn’t answer, emptying the jerry-can and tossing it away.
“I filched this from Sirius,” Peter says, holding up the lighter like a prize, a grin on his face as he holds it in his hand, the glow of the small flame casting his face with a warm glow.
“Peter, you don’t have to do this. Please. I won’t tell anyone. I’ll help you. Please, please Peter,” Lily pleads, thrashing a little as reality sets in.
There's nothing sexy about being burned alive.
“Please, if you have to burn me could you at least kill me first, please Peter!” She cries.
Peter shakes his head. “I’ve been looking forward to this, little red, I told you.”
“What, what if you cut me up, bleed me out first? What- wouldn’t you like that?” Lily tries, begging. Perhaps she’ll be dead before the fire even starts.
“Oh no little red, you’re going to sing for me,” Peter explains, grinning. He tosses the lighter onto the podium, and fire licks across it quickly, tickling her legs, and she cries out, pulling them up, and groaning with the pain of the strain on her wrists. Peter smiles as the fire begins to eat the platform.
What Lily didn’t see, was the kindling, sticks and logs piled beneath the platform that were now quickly burning and creating a much, much larger fire. It was no time at all before the fire was able to reach her, whether she pulled herself up or not.
Her screams and cries rang out into the night, intermittent points where she would pass out, and then be shocked awake by the pain, screaming until she was hoarse.
Eventually, she didn’t wake up.
Peter had known that the fire would match her hair. He felt like an artist, and wished he could replay this memory again, and again. He had never been happier.