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It’s Irme from Color me Killer: Honeymouth! I wuv them and want to ship them with an oc ;w; Gave them sharp teeth because every killer needs sharp teeth uwu
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Authors Note: We take it a little back in time to see who really Dave was and what he become. I am trying to work on his past and character development.
Live is always hard and even more so when you have to survive into a world where the rich are playing the strings and the poor are scrambling for a penny to buy a piece of bread for their children to eat.
Humans were despicable, that was Dave's view on the people that he passed on the street on his way home from work. He worked at a factory that made furniture and today he didn't get the money. Why? His temper got the best of him and he punched a co-worker for bumping into him.
Going home without money wasn't a good thing and as he entered the decent house, the woman known as his wife waited for him with her arms crossed over her chest, tapping her foot impatiently.
"So? Where's the money?" she asked, her long brown hair framing her face beautifully so, bright brown eyes showing one of the deadly sins, the greed.
"No, but I am gonna get it. Don't worry." Dave told her, passing her to get to the kitchen, taking a glass of water.
Footsteps approached him and he knew what was gonna happen. He felt her punch him in the back, her tiny fists not even creating a slight amount of pain. Normally, if there was anybody else he would have thrown them across the room, but she was his wife.
"Elizabeth. I am not in the mood." Dave told her, swallowing down the tension.
"You are never in the mood for anything! No money, no respect, everyone views us as garbage. Fuck you! You are nothing." she grumbled and walked out of the kitchen and upstairs.
Daves fists balled up and he walked out of the house, not able to stay even a second in this hellhole.
His steps took him to the local bar where some of his so-called friends were, drinking some alcohol and sharing stories of good ol' days
"Dave! It's so good to see you. How's work?" Harold, one of the co-workers at the factory asked, offering him a seat and a glass of whiskey.
"I don't have money. I don't drink." Dave told Harold who rolled his eyes and insisted, handing him the glass of expensive alcohol.
"So, I'm guessing you still have problems with money, huh? I understand that besides working at the factory I still do part-time jobs to sustain my family. Raising two kids is never easy." Harold told Dave, lightning a cigarette and handing the light-haired guy one, which he accepted.
"Don't tell me." Dave grumbled, blowing a 'o' of smoke as he looked outside at the window, seeing people pass by.
"Riiight....So you and Elizabeth started to work on making babies?" Harold asked with a smirk.
Dave snorted at the question, taking a sip of whiskey. Elizabeth wasn't the type for creating a family. She was a beauty, he had to admit and everyone thought so, but wife-material she was not, well in the past two years since they got married she changed and not for the good.
"Not really." Dave whispered and Harold patted his broad shoulder, trying to comfort his friend. From all the people Harold was probably the only one with a straight spine and spoke in a headstrong way.
"You know, my father used to say that having a beautiful wife is amazing until they get old and all beauty fads away, leaving just an empty carcass of maggots. Figuratively of course, but you get my point." the older male told him and took a sip of his own drink, both males looking at the young girls that were at the bar, flirting and trying to get a bag of money in form of a rich male.
"Your father was a wise man." Dave spoke, scowling at the image of his wife.
He loved her, but after so many years all the love that was at the beginning faded into dust, leaving only frustrations and arguments that didn't go anywhere to a clarified point.
He sometimes wished he could just beat her brains in and out, not with words, but with something hard and strong, like a hammer perhaps. At first, Dave ignored such morbid thoughts, telling himself it was the rage that gave him such toxic scenarios, but as time passed he realized that he actually enjoyed what his imagination created.
Both men continued to drink and talk, about life, work and other problems, until it almost got to midnight and the bar closed.
"See you tomorrow at work?" Harold asked, adjusting his coat.
Dave gave him a nod and they waved goodbye at each other, going on their way home. The younger male wondered as he walked home how life would have been if he would have got a more brain-filled woman, someone who actually knew what she wanted from life, and not the dirty money.
A family.
Dave was in his middle 30's and he knew he wasn't getting any younger, his wife being 31 made things even harder, because she wasn't looking forward to being a mother.
As he got home, he noticed the lights were out, alas he entered the house which was deadly silent, leave for some sounds upstairs in their shared bedroom. You didn't have to be a genius to know what was going on. Normally, anyone would have barged in and probably beat the shit out of the man who was fucking his wife, but Dave didn't do so.
'Do I actually love her?' he asked himself, sitting down on the old couch and waiting for them to finish and come down.
After 30 minutes, the man was the first to come down, seeing Dave, his eyes widened, but he didn't say anything, just getting his coat on and exiting the house.
After 5 minutes, Elizabeth came down and her eyes fixed on her husband who gave her an empty stare.
"You're home. Where were you?" she asked in a snarky tone, crossing her arms.
"Out with the guys." he simply responded.
"Yeah, right. More like going between prostitutes' legs. That's where my money is going." she said and rolled her eyes.
"You're sleeping on the couch tonight." she told him one last time before going back upstairs, slamming the bedroom door shut.
That's new, accusing someone of cheating when you're the one that did so just a few minutes ago. What a hypocrite.
What Dave felt now was anger, not just a simple fury, but pure on wrath, he felt like getting his hands on something and choking the life out of it. His grey eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep.
His wife was driving him nuts and before he realized it, he left his home in the middle of the night, going down the streets, trying to get some fresh air and calming himself down.
The streets at night were only filled with bad people, the ones doing dirty business and such. He never paid them too much thought, until a feminine voice pulled him out of his train of thoughts. It was a young woman, probably in her middle 20's with red hair and a blue dress.
A prostitute.
"Hey there, stud. Looking for a good time?" she asked in a seductive voice, giving him a cheeky smile.
He was right and on an everyday basis, he would have told her to fuck off, but he found himself smirking and stopping in front of her.
"Lead the way." he whispered to her and she grinned, taking his hand and moving into an alleyway.
Times were hard and affording a hotel room wasn't an option, so people had to stick with cheap options.
The girl pushed him against a wall and began to run her hands down his chest, her red lips looking inviting, but more so was her neck.
"So? What can I do for you tonight? A blowjob or maybe we can go all the way up with some doggy time?" she asked, ready to kiss him.
It all happened in a flash on a second, their roles switching as he held her now against the wall, only for his hands to wrap around her neck, so tightly she began to choke, her green eyes looking up at him with fear, her tiny hands trying to grab him, but it was in vain.
Slowly, her eyes drained of any life and she laid limp in his arms, dead. Grey eyes looked at her face, Dave's breath was deep and in the past, he would have panicked, but now he felt a rush of excitement run in his veins.
He killed someone, he actually did it, he wasn't hallucinating and he enjoyed it, a lot. Letting the body hit the floor he looked left and right, making sure none saw.
After checking it so, he left the alleyway and walked home, all the rage is gone and he never felt more at peace.
