request: “uuuh imagine isabelle forcing her f!darling to orgasm as she fucks them with the handle of the knife. her darling's bleeding from all the cuts and bruises she inflicted on them. if darling doesn't orgasm, isabelle says she will kill them [eyes]”
“not to be horny on main but can we see the forced orgasm with Isabelle 😳👉👈”
a/n: isabelle has a particular fondness for knives. and for pretty, precious girls like you. noncon, object insertion, forced orgasm, death threats, blood, knives, bruises, hardcore sex, painful sex, masturbation/forced masturbation, kidnapping, death mention, mindbreak, abuse, restraints, female reader, lemon.
You couldn’t count how many times Isabelle had spoken those words, since you had first woken up in her bedroom and cried at the realization that you’d been taken against your will. Murmured into your skin, whispered into your ear, moaned as she brought herself to orgasm in front of you...she said it so many times it felt like it was seared into your brain, an endless mantra, and a constant reminder.
She said it even now, with a smirk clear on her lips. The handle of her favourite knife pressed firmly against your clit, rubbing back and forth after being lubed up with your clear, strong-tasting cum...and though you almost wished you had become numb at this point, the aches and stinging soreness of your injuries kept you present in the moment. Isabelle loved to cut you, leave little marks and designs on your skin, and of course lick the blood up from your wounds as she opened them, watching with a pleased shudder as she laid her claim over your pure, precious body. She had told you stories and shown you pictures of her previous lovers, forcing you to look through albums of photos detailing the abuse she made them suffer along with you...but when she cut all the others, it was random and violent, as you could clearly see in the pictures. With you, however, you’d noticed that whenever she left marks that would scar, she would always spell out her name in your skin.
Isabelle had said you were her favourite. Now you knew it for sure.
You’d been trying to keep your mind off it, but once she started to press the handle past your soaked lips, the torture hit you again at full force. She was cooing to you, telling you how precious you were as she pushed the knife in by the sharp end...and once it was sheathed and the edge was only a hair’s length from your skin, she let out the breath she’d been holding and gripped it hard enough for her fingers to bleed.
She moaned, and you watched her free hand descend beneath her clothes as the other turned and twisted the knife inside you. Her eyes shifted up to meet yours, and at once you wished they hadn’t. It didn’t feel good, you swore it didn’t feel good...it wasn’t supposed to feel good.
“...I can’t wait to watch you die.”
You clenched involuntarily around the weapon as she started to pull it out, lifting it up to circle the handle slowly around your clit before pushing it back inside. You wanted to cry but you had nothing left, she had drained everything from you...well, almost everything.
“...Tell me, why should I wait, little one? Why don’t I just kill you now?”
Your blood froze in your veins, but Isabelle continued, her eyes even darker and more soulless than usual as she moved a little faster, the handle squelching inside you as she churned up your pretty, girlish insides. You were desperate to beg for mercy, but all that came from your throat was a moan you didn’t want to release, which only made the torture worse as she fucked you even faster with the knife and started to leave painful cuts on the rim of your pussy. This wasn’t your choice, she was forcing this on you just like she forced you to touch yourself while she watched, and just because your body was crying out for more didn’t mean you wanted it...it didn’t mean you were like her.
If you weren’t so scared of the pain, you would have told her to just kill you already and spare you the torture.
“Cum for me, babygirl. Cum all over the knife I used to kill the girl before you. Show me how much you love being my little darling, and I won’t slit your throat while I sit on your face.”
Her catlike purr turned to a roaring growl in an instant, lust twinkling in her eyes as she pounded your pussy with the end of her most beloved blade. Blood trailed down her arm in rivers but she didn’t care, and all you could do was sob as she fucked you so hard it was painful--and you knew, deep in your heart, that this was all you could do. Just squeeze tighter around it, give in to the fact that the aches and bruises and blood reminded you you were alive...and before you knew it you were keening, your shoulders hunching over and pulling at the restraints keeping your legs apart, and losing yourself in the intensity of your sudden orgasm as it flooded through your core and into the tips of your toes and fingers. In these dizzy, hazy moments, you had some sort of blissful reprieve from the reality of the situation, eyes rolled back at how strongly it had rocked your system...but then the knife was pulled out uncomfortably slow from your cunt, and you were forced to watch her suck every drop of your juices from the handle while never breaking eye contact.
She was quiet, placing the blade carefully off to the side, before pulling her hand out from beneath her pants to slip her sticky fingers past your lips. If you weren’t sure she would stab you in the gut without hesitation, you would have happily bitten her.
“...I’ve known plenty of girls like you. They all tend to have one thing in common...one thing that makes them so addictive.”
Despite still being sore from your last orgasm, Isabelle trailed her fingers off your lips and down your chest littered with wounds, to start rubbing at your clit again...this time with the same lack of gentleness, only focused on ripping what she wanted from your broken, helpless body.
“They love losing control. Taking risks, getting hurt, and remembering their place...it’s adorable to watch. I was the same way. And so are you...yet you make me feel a different way.”
She chuckled in a way that felt like she was mocking you, and you knew she was--especially when she lifted her head to meet your lips. Her kisses never had any love or affection behind them...especially not when she was working you up again tonight, undoubtedly planning on forcibly eating you out while you cried and begged her to stop. There was no better way that she liked to fall asleep, anyways.
“...You were my favourite from the start, you know.”
Isabelle curled her fingers and pressed suddenly into that spot nobody had ever found before, and the moment you started to moan she muffled it with her mouth over yours. Your hips were rocking again already. You were going to cum again...and again, and again, until she decided you were finished for the day.
“And that’s why I’m so eager...so excited to see the face you make. When I finally get to kill you.”
