The light of a single candle flickered softly, emitting a warm glow throughout the bathroom. The wooden wick crackled as it burned, filling the silence, but not disturbing it.
Sinking down into the water, the surface rippled as your body acclimated to the heat, muscles tensing before relaxing. You leaned your head back, neck resting against the porcelain edge of the clawfoot tub, eyes fluttering shut.
The past week flashed throughout your mind - what felt like an endless, dull routine of work. You looked forward to the relief of the end of each week, having a few days to revive yourself both physically and emotionally before starting the cycle again. There was peace within the solitude of your home, within the silence and within every detail of your quaint space that you’d designed and tweaked to your own liking. Being home gave you a sense of control, a sense of belonging.
Even if it was lonely at times.
You don’t know how much time passed as you began to doze off, suddenly blinking your lashes open at the slightest gust of cool air along your face. A chill ran through your body, hair raising and nipples hardening even beneath the warm water.
In the golden candlelight, a dark figure stood in the corner.
The figure was large, tall - almost touching the ceiling, and while you couldn’t see the face from the shadows, you could tell it was masculine. Your heart began pounding in your chest, but worst of all: you couldn’t move a muscle.
Your body felt frozen beneath the water, tears brimming your eyes as you desperately attempted to wiggle a finger or toe. Nothing budged, the surface of the bath water remaining almost perfectly still. You couldn’t speak; hell, you could barely breathe, realizing that half of your face was submerged as well.
The dark figure stepped closer, almost curious, footsteps slow, heavy. Echoes disrupting the crackling sound of the candle nearby. As the figure crept into the soft light, sharp, aquiline features traced his face, disturbingly handsome. Dark, jet-black hair that was well-styled, a single strand just barely skimming his forehead. Black slacks, black leather shoes and a white button-up shirt with the sleeves pushed up his muscular forearms.
“Not quite,” His voice, deep in his chest, broke the silence as if reading your terrified thoughts. A chuckle. “However, I’m sure he’d steal a few of my ideas.”
All you could do was stare, your tears trailing down your face before mixing with the water below. As the man stepped even closer, you felt as if your throat was being constricted, the very little oxygen you could intake through your nose getting cut off. This man hadn’t laid a finger on you, yet somehow, in whatever questionable state-of-mind you were in, you knew he was responsible.
Responsible for the tightening in your throat, and then, the swirling sensation that suddenly surrounded your clit.
You couldn’t make a sound or react in any way, your lack of oxygen only increasing the build-up of your impending climax. This felt like torture - all of your muscles wanting to tense but being unable to, lost whimpers and whines that could never climb out of your chest. This was hell, up until your release inevitably came. Then, for the briefest moment, it was heaven.
Purely horrifying, bewildering, adrenaline-inducing heaven. You were beyond starry-eyed, your vision starting the darken around the edges as you silently pleaded him with your eyes to let you take a breath of air.
The man loomed over you, rough and veiny hands gripping the edge of the tub as he crouched down to your eye level. His eyes were a golden-olive mix of hazel, drowned out by the darkness of his dilated pupils as he watched you in awe, gaze trailing along your naked figure beneath the surface of the water, as if he weren’t the one somehow doing this to you in the first place.
“Good…that’s good,” He cooed. A long finger reached out, stroking along the top of your cheekbone.
You closed your eyes, finally giving in, and then everything was black.
When you woke soon after, gasping and heaving desperately, you quickly yanked the plug of the bath. You stood on shaky legs, glancing around the dimly-lit bathroom, alone once again. You were grateful for your mobility, snatching a fluffy towel and wrapping it around your body as you stepped out of the tub.
It must’ve been a nightmare. Sleep paralysis, probably.
You would have been more convinced of that possibility if it weren’t for the slight ache in your lower region. Reaching past the towel, you hesitantly grazed your folds with your fingertips, noticing that they did feel a little swollen.
Maybe you masturbated at some point. Is that even possible, to reach an orgasm while asleep?
Your mind wandered, reeling through hypotheticals as you flicked on the bathroom light. Wiping the fog from the mirror, you immediately yelped, flinching backwards at your appearance. Eyes widening at the freshly crimson, finger-shaped marks around your neck, too big to be your own. The beginnings of what would become bruises. You stepped closer to the mirror, tracing along the markings with your fingertips, lips parting.
You began to question reality at this point, too stunned to think for a moment.
Footsteps somewhere outside the bathroom door pulled you from your state of shock.
dailybridgerton
pixelskylines
vaporwave
baratheonpilled
snowghoul
germansingergirl
