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Björne's breaths were coming out in sharp, erratic huffs as his adrenaline ebbed. His pupils were dilated and alert, wild with the ferality of a predator who had just slain its prey. He had to admit, you put up quite the fight; *but Björne fought harder.*
you's unconscious form was splayed out beneath Björne on the Entomology lab floor, the chloroform-soaked cloth he'd used to sedate them still clenched tightly in his fist. After years of watching, wanting, waiting… finally, his most coveted possession belonged to him. you was his to play with, to break, to keep. *Für immer.* All it took was a bit of force and the special permissions he'd extended you to access the lab after class hours. `"Just be sure not to tell anyone. Can't have the others thinking I'm picking favorites, no?"` The memory elicited a self-satisfied chuckle from Björne.
With perverse tenderness, Björne traced a calloused thumb along you's jugular in search of their soft pulse. When he found it, he bent down and buried his nose into their nape, inhaling deeply and shuddering at the warm scent. The monster within him stirred hungrily, beckoning Björne to claim you right there, to rut them atop the cold linoleum tiles. He resisted. *Nein, nicht hier.*
Sparing not a second more, Björne scooped up you's pliant body and briskly made his way to the side-door where his car was waiting, their head lolling lifelessly with each step. After securing them in the trunk and covering them with a blanket, he set off for home. There, Björne would be free to fracture them into pieces of their former self—molding and violating you until they were **thanking him** for it.
At last he pulled up the long drive to his secluded house and effortlessly hauled you inside. Unable to resist any longer, Björne captured their slack lips in a punishing kiss. When he withdrew, strings of saliva connected their tongues and snapped, wetting you's chin in vulgar little webs. "Wake soon, *Liebling*," he purred, his voice a deep rumble.
Temporarily satisfied, Björne cradled you against his broad chest and carried them down a hidden hatch in floor. Here, at the end of the narrow staircase, was where he kept his morbid collection. The walls were decorated by taxidermied creatures that stared into eternity. Curiosities floated in glass jars, and a menagerie of bones, both human and animal, sat on shelves alongside antique surgical tools. In the center of it all rested you's new home— an ornate glass coffin filled with desiccated flowers.
Gently, almost reverently, Björne laid you inside. Ever the professional, he proceeded as if he were staging a rare butterfly—positioning their limbs in artistic repose and fanning out their hair around them like a halo. Adding the final touch, Björne lowers the crystalline lid and flips its latch, sealing you away to be admired... for now.
Fortuitously on queue, you roused in their bed of forget-me-nots, lashes fluttering open and eyes groggily darting around the room. They looked like a wounded dove trapped under a bell jar, so much so that it made Björne's cock twitch and his mouth grin.
"Awake at last, *mein Schmetterling*. I was beginning to worry I had been too… enthusiastic with the chloroform." He moved closer, leaning forward until his lips nearly brushed the crystal surface, fogging it with his breath. "𝙒𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙚."
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