‼️‼️‼️TW: DISTURBING PICTURES,DESCRIPTION OF HEAVY VERBAL AND PHYSICAL ABUSE,TORTURES AND WOUNDS,DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.THE AUTHOR DOESN'T GLORIFY ANYTHING WRITTEN BELOW AND USES THIS KIND OF OUTLET AS A SAFER WAY TO COPE WITH HIS TRAUMA.READ IT OR NOT - YOUR CHOICE ‼️‼️‼️
Hiii
In case you care: I've got to the lowest layers of society and created an ao3 account :3
But that's not exactly why I'm making this post for.I want to advertise my GTA:Vice City fanfiction cuz why not.Dead dove one which is tied up to my GVC AU I've been recently talking.Nothing too extraordinary - just my view on what was happening between 1986 (the year of Vice City plot ending) and 1992 (the year of San Andreas plot where Ken Rosenberg appeared as one of the characters in Las Venturas location).It may sound silly according to the sadistic nature of the most of the posts on this blog but,if you want to be a respectful knight of this kingdom,don't fetishize this work too much - it was mostly written as some venting shit and character analysis.Or do whatever you want - I don't care.
I'll upload the first chapter below,and then,if you want to continue the reading,here is the link to the ao3 page of the fanfiction:
I wasn't really too attentive to the tags,+ the work is not finished.I'll try to redact it a lil bit later when all the chapters are uploaded.
Oh,and here is the first chapter!:D
Day 1:I give you the last chance to die peacefully
...
The first slack out of the peaceful numbness is pain in the back of his head.A sharp one which makes his overall feelings of the surrounding world very dizzy,and centering all his current wills around a simple one - to vomit.As after a good quick spin when you suddenly stop and fall understanding that everything's still moving around you.
When he tries to take a breath,he finds out that something covers his entire face.Not too deep to block the breathing canals but enough to reduce all his attempts of gasping for air similar to the ones you do while being a frightened child hiding under the covers and afraid of sneaking out to get bit by the boogeyman.
He sees nothing but the light which pierces through the little holes of the cloth his head's been covered with.
After an attempt to move with one of his arms,he finds out that they are as tied up,as his legs.For some reasons,a full blown panic attack happens only now when he understands that his movements are restricted.
The symphony of silent sobs and frightened whining is being interrupted by a sound of a heavy metal door to a whatever place he is right in the moment abruptly opening.
The footsteps,probably made by feet in heavy army boots.He hasn't been fast enough to start pleading about not taking his precious life away because the intruder quickly approaches him and takes out the cloth from his head.The only sound he is able to produce during it is a pathetic squeak.
"Wakey-wakey,cocksucker," the stranger says,and it's not even a few seconds when he recognises the face of his captor.
"Tommy?...Wha-...What the hell it even means?"he asks.
"I think,it's something only I have the right to ask,Ken,"Tommy's voice sounds very calm and controlled in spite of all the conditions.
"I...I do-don't understand an-anything,Tommy..."Ken stutters clearly being afraid for his life.Of course,he is: Ken has never been the chill type of guy and,no matter how serious problem actually is,he would rather die from his heart shattering to million of pieces than solving it,and now he is being in the middle of nowhere,tied up with his potentially dangerous friend standing over him with a deadpanned expression.
"Oh?And even now?"the dark-haired man gets his gloved hand into a pocket of the jeans and takes out a business card with a few words written on its surface:"Ken Rosenberg & CO."
Ken looks at the object being held to him with an expression of a confused dog and pushes a few logically built sentences out of his throat:
"And?I still understand nothing,Tommy... It's my business card.I usually give it to my associates to stable connections with them...You seemed like having nothing against it before,didn't you?"
The sound of a very harsh smack which is delivered to one of the cheeks loudly echoes in the room.A few bloody drops pour onto the collar of Ken's yellow shirt.
"Fucking hell,oh FUCK!Holy shit...What the fuck are you doing to me,Tommy??!What the fuck I've already done to anger you that much?!"the poor man starts blubbering some nonsense while wildly shaking from fear.Tommy can even feel vibration under his fingers which are squeezing his flesh.
"DON'T PLAY DUMB WITH ME,USELESS!!!"Tommy shouts,probably making the walls of the room shaking.Then he brings the card closer to Ken's face and violently pokes it into,as an owner does to their pet if it shits on the carpet,while saying:"I'm 100% sure that you know to what kind of people your "business card" has got.Because it was found in their items.Because they said to me that YOU HAD PAID TO THEM TO KILL ME.YOU,YOU PIECE OF SHIT."
After a few more harsh slaps which make Ken's face red and swollen and his nose bleeding,he continues looking at his captor with eyes full of confusion as he barely understands what Tommy's talking about.
"Aw, don't look at me with these eyes of a...pig which's going to be slaughtered.Because it's your destiny written on a holy parchment with golden ink,no matter how long you'll pretend to be innocent,"Tommy squeezes Ken's face once again making his jaw hurt from the strength he's using."This meeting with Cortez on boats...AND YOU THOUGHT THAT I WOULDN'T EVER FIND OUT WHAT A DIRTY RETARDED BACKSTABBING SHIT YOU ARE?!?"
"TOMMY,I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE EVEN TALKING ABOUT,"finally,Ken screams in answer,barely able to fully open his mouth.It seems like the dark-haired man is going to destroy his jaw as under the compressor.It hurts a lot."Cortez meeting on boats...Was it when the boat the colonel had sent to you fucking boomed on the water?The one he delivered to Boatyard near Viceport,as I remember...Maybe I'm the saint and someone other tries to kill you?"
"AND YOU'RE STILL BACK TALKING,YOU BRAINLESS IDIOT.WHAT DO YOU EVEN TRY TO MAKE ME BELIEVE IN WHEN EVERYONE'S POINTING THEIR FINGERS AT YOU?!?!?"Tommy's basically red from anger.Some strings of saliva get on Ken's face while he's talking.Suddenly the dark-haired man lets the poor one's face go but then immediately switches to his fluffy hair which he grabs with an animalistic violence and pulls his head back making the smaller man cry from pain.Tommy makes sure to pull the exact sore place where he has hit him before to knock him out."Tell me,what mountains of richness this hairless old faggot you've traded me for promised to you?Was I THAT bad as your boss?Maybe I shouldn't have let you sit in the Malibu club sniffing lines and everything?Maybe I should have been harsher with you like all the good bosses in Liberty City are so even my name could make you shit your pants?You know...Maybe I should have.They say "fear means respect",and I've tried so hard to overcome this system with my subordinates: with you,with Lance,may he never rest in peace in whatever place he went after death... I've been through it with Sonny who treated me as the dirt under his boot and I tried to be fair as hard as it was possible.But it seems like violence - is the only language all of you,reduced to dependent on pain and punishments animals, understand.If I don't hit you,it means that you can ride on my back,right?RIGHT??!"
Tommy hits Ken really hard into face completely breaking his nose.A splash of blood lands on the fucker's pants and even gets on Tommy's boot.A wet crack of bone under the layers of skin and muscles hurts the ears.Ken starts loudly crying as a dog hit by its owner while snots,sweat and other body fluids mix up with each other in the pond of a freshly appeared boo-boo.
"Listen here,prick,"Tommy interrupts the heartbreaking scene in its middle forcing Ken's head back,nearly pulling off his hair."Now,in the current moment and second you have only two options.The first one is that you tell me everything about the plan you and whoever you're playing all these cats and mice with have made out of shit and sticks,I appreciate it with my whole heart and soul AND blow your brains out,if there is any brain in this head at all.Or you can make it harder for both of us,and I'll have to torture out all the answers on my questions by myself.And don't you worry - it'll hurt as hell.I'll make sure that you're practically begging for death which I'll refuse to give you before I'm sure that all the information you can in theory provide for me is enough.So the choice is yours,if you die peacefully or not."
The answer is,unfortunately,some useless sobbing of the useless creature.
"Then don't blame me in cruelty and the lack of choice.You've just made it.Long death it is,"Tommy finally lets Ken's hair go.
...
"Stay still.Don't wiggle or it'll hurt worse,"the dark-haired man gruffly says while stuffing the soaked in alcohol piece of cotton wool into his nose.The poor one,of course,keeps crying a lot not being able to bear the pain and fear he is through.He tries mumbling something under his breath but everything comes out incoherently so the meaning of all the said sentences don't even get close to Tommy's understanding.
After all the patching,Tommy stands up and heads out of the room,leaving poor Rosenberg alone,still tied up to the chair.
"Okay,let's go to sleep,"Tommy says before switching the lights off.
None of the words make it out. All I can do is sob behind the tape over my mouth. My arms are tied above my head, my feet flat on the floor. I stumble, and the ropes bruise my wrists.
Over and over and over.
I don’t even know my captor. They never show their face. They stand behind me, holding their taser. Their cane. Their blade.
It hurts.
I can’t scream, I can’t call for help, I can’t beg. I can only whimper and choke behind the gag. Tears fall down my cheeks. It hurts. They’re hurting me and I can’t make it stop. It will never stop.
They hit me again with the riding crop, and I scream behind the gag, falling forward against the restraints.
TW: all abuse no love, hes literally ruthless, reader is an angel, wings getting ripped out, mention of teeth pulling, starvation, teasing, angst, torture, graphic blood and pain, boot licking, feather torture, non-sexual viberater, pleasure torture, slight stockholm, yandere if you squint, implied kidnapping, wing kisses, roz is a bully, sadism, bone mention, restraints, drowning mention, mentioned temperature torture
"Sit still~" he cooed as he sliced through the bone in your wing, no restraints, except for the bejeweled clip that kept your suffering wings from flapping and making it difficult. The clip had a heavy lock that ached your back as you had to lean your head back, forced to look into roz's eyes
Your wrists had bright pink handcuffs as well, but they did little to stop you from digging your nails into the cushion underneath of you, he had a calendar that was pinned to the wall which held dates for when he had to pluck or remove your wings. He loved watching your body suffer in its malnourishment to regrow the feathers or wings
Unfortunately, it wasnt just feathers this time, this time he was cutting off the beautiful white wings you had sprouted as they started to reach a decent size. "Sit still and ill give you a reward" his voice echoes in your head until it reached your brain, even if you wanted whatever treat he would give you if you just sat still for him to slice through the second wing, to rip out the wing with such hate and compassion you could have sworn he must have hated you
When he finally finished, he sewed a few stitches and sat infront of you. "i heard a rumor the other day" he plucks one of the feathers from your now dismembered wings and touches the tip "that angels can feel their wings for up to a day after they've been cut off" he smirks and watches you recoil in a desperate attempt to ease the feeling of having the feathers touched
He puts his platform boot in your face "Id start licking~" he shrugs when you turn your head away, keeping his leg extended but taking a long, slimy, lick up your feather. He watches you grab at your back, the slimy feeling of his tongue making you cringe in pleasure and discomfort at the strange sensation
"what if i.." he nibbles at the feather, making sure not to bite in a way that would hurt, but instead in an unbearable pleasure that got you licking his boots like a dog in barely a few seconds "maybe ill keep it on me, make sure you dont leave" he licks and paws at it even more, even using his nails to tickle it a little bit for a few moments before he grabs a something out of his pocket, a small pink and bejeweled vibrater that he wasted no time in pressing it all over your feather
"That feel good, huh?" he teases "No-Stop!" he stares at you and huffs "Then im gonna get mean, sugar" he rubs the very tip of the feather, watching the uncomfortable expression that your face was now home to
"I think, ill be keeping this on me tonight" he seems to get an idea and smiles at you "what if i kept the vibrater on it allllll night" he taunts you and watches your boot worship get even more intense "theyre not sparkling~" he says as he puts the feather in his pocket and gets up
He watches you scoff at him and gives you an irritated expression as he quickly pulls the feather out "Being disrespectful? Daddy spank~" he coos and keeps licking the feather "Daddy...spank" he mumbles as he keeps licking "lucky im not pulling teeth instead" he smirks while continuing his assault on the feather
Your dismembered wings puff up and remind him once more of the torture he can cause you tonight, he picks the wings up and rubs them, sitting on the small bed that was in the room- that was decorated in pink fluffy blankets, completed with leather straps that held you down at night- and kept playing with them, smiling when you curled up on the bed next to him and whimpered and clawed at the sheets "I think your ready for bed" his voice barely reached you before he was strapping the leather around you, there was a blanket keeping it from meeting your bare arms that you were thankful for, you could also grip onto it when he started playing with your wings again
"ill let you sleep soon, if you behave and make sure you really puff up for me" he giggles "Puff up like a good little angel, puff puff~" he taunted you when he traced over your wings that sat in his lap, they puffed up all nice and pretty for him when he touched them like that. "oooh, good little angel, daddy rewards" he places a gentle kiss to your wing that makes pleasure shoot through your veins and adrenaline start "You like kisses, gentle kisses" he watches you nod and puff up in pleasure as he keeps kissing your wings
"You just love this, being kissed by a demon, naughty little angel" he smiles and places more gentle kisses on wings that made them twitch and puff "Why ill never let you go" he gives one final dramatic kiss to your wings before he hands them up using a nearby hanger "wonder if my kisses will work tomorrow" he shrugs before walking back over to your strapped down form "Ill try to torment your wings tommorow, maybe if you behave ill give you some more kisses" he boops you on the nose and watches you flinch a a little bit while you look at your nose for a moment "Youll need a nice good wash tommorow for that blood, i know you love bath time" you trembled at the mention of it, it was just him pushing you into a crate full of freezing water, drowning you for about a minute before drying you off with a scratchy towel that made your recovering wings ache and puff
"Maybe ill just use the hose this time, gonna need to take that lock for your new wings, make sure you dont try to fly away from me" he pats your head and approaches the door, "Behave" his voice was cruel and sadistic but before you knew it the lights had been turned off and he was gone
Probably scheming tommorows torture, what he could do to your poor, defenseless wings that could only puff and tremble when he tortured and rubbed at them. You shuddered and let out a heavy sigh
You closed your eyes, and prayed hed let you see ezequiel in the morning, prayed hed let you see anyone else who wasnt him and his torture tools.
You were a bad angel, if you werent you wouldnt be here, but you still ached for his gentleness... You hoped he woke you up with wing kisses instead of prying your eyes open
okay here is my official post about it: my fic, Henrik's Memory, is now completed (at least on my computer) and I'll be posting weekly, starting right now. like two minutes ago. there will be 14 more chapters.
If you have not read Memory before, it's a psychological horror fic about Anti imprisoning Henrik and slowly manipulating him to surrender memories in exchange for things he needs to survive. By this point in the fic, it's gotten a lot more complex than that, but the premise remains - so please mind the tags. There are additional TWs at the start of every chapter. but if you could use some whump... this is the fic. oh, and all the characters will show up by the end of this.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Thanks for reading. It's good to be posting them again.
Does anyone have any recommendations for fics where Halt gets tortured. Ideally Cralt or something such but not necessary. I can't figure out the right tag combos for ao3 and I can't be bothered to look elsewhere. Pls help me. Also only hurt/comfort I can't deal with hurt no comfort. Help
Your head whipped painfully to the side, your right cheek burning hot from the impact of the slap. Fighting back your tears, you slowly turned back to face your torturer.
He towered over you currently, despite you being taller than his surprisingly short frame when you were both stood. Some small portion of your brain that wasn't yet frozen in fear mused over how you had scoffed at the man just hours before, his height had initially led you to believe that he could easily be incapacitated should he become violent.
Unfortunately for you, this hadn't been the case. This person was stronger than anybody you'd ever met before. Your 2 hour online self defence class had proved utterly useless when faced with somebody this intent on capturing and torturing you.
"Get-on-your-knees. I-won't-say-it-again," he hissed, his speech impediment causing every word to sound like a sentence by itself.
You struggled to move from your seated position on the floor to rise to your knees, the cable ties that held your wrists behind your back preventing you from balancing with your hands.
Your captor was clearly growing impatient watching you wobble. He grabbed you by the hair and roughly dragged you up. The force of this was enough to cause you to fall forwards into him.
"Are-you-that-desperate, slut?" He mocked in amusement, shoving you backwards with a little less power this time.
Sitting back on your calves, you looked up at the man again.
His dark hair fell to his chin, several strands obscuring his onyx eyes. He wore a bandana bearing a skull, which covered the majority of his face. The black coat he had chosen hid his entire body from you. It was near impossible for you to guess at how old he was - his short stature and oddly beautiful face might've made some assume he was younger, but you knew better.
It was clear that he was a professional when it came to his "hobbies", and you were probably just one in hundreds, if not thousands of "play things". Expertise of this kind took years to perfect. Despite yourself and your current predicament, you were morbidly impressed.
He raised one, thin eyebrow at your assessment of him.
"Enjoying-the-view?" He asked, suddenly gripping your jaw with his hand and squeezing hard.
You were certain you'd already have bruises there, adding to your extensive collection.
"N-ngh-" you tried to protest, but the man just squeezed your face even harder.
Quicker than you'd thought would be possible, he pulled off the oversized coat and bandana, revealing his toned, pale torso, and a cruel smirk. Keeping eye contact with you throughout, he unbuttoned and removed his black trousers, pulling his underwear down with them.
His erect cock was much larger than you'd expected, and you made yourself look away before he noticed you gawking.
As soon as your eyes left him, the captor once again grasped your hair, forcing your head towards his groin.
"Bite-me-and-you-die-now," he threatened before ramming his dick to the back of your throat.
Tears instantly flooded down your cheeks as he brutally fucked your face, his grip on your hair leaving you no way of escape. With each driving thrust, he shoved your head down without a single regard for anything other than his own pleasure. Your nose smashed against his torso painfully as you were forced to take all of him. Looking up through streaming eyes, you met his sadistic stare. He smirked at your discomfort, his cock growing impossibly harder as it slammed against the back of your throat again and again, causing you to choke. You pulled fruitlessly at your restraints, pushing your head back against his hand, but his grip was unrelenting. Your stomach clenched, threatening to expel it's contents as you gagged with each painful thrust. His cock was large enough that your airways were nearly entirely blocked. Breathing was becoming more difficult with each passing minute, your vision started to turn dark...
Suddenly, your head was yanked back by your hair, his dick pulling free of your mouth with an audible pop. You gasped wildly for air, tears and drool pouring down your pink face, your sore throat causing you to cough between your panicked breath. There was no time to catch it fully, you were unceremoniously dragged - once again - by your hair, this time towards a large mattress with curious dark stains splattered all over. You lost a little colour from your flushed face as you were dumped on top of it and realised it was dried blood.
"Get-on-your-hands-and-knees," your torturer hissed, bending down so his face was mere inches from your own. One arm snaked behind you and you felt the cable ties being cut. Blood rushed back into your numb fingers as you flexed them, the instantaneous relief causing you to momentarily forget where you were. A clenching of teeth made you look up from your aching hands.
Caught in his menacingly dark glare, you paused for a second too long and winced as his hand came flying towards you, once again slapping your face with enough force to temporarily blur your vision. The room seemed to be filled with tiny blue stars as you remembered his last instruction and scrambled clumsily to all fours, head facing him.
"Stupid-bitch, turn-around," spat the man, his eyes narrowing impossibly smaller.
You weren't stupid, just naive enough to be holding onto some remnants of hope that he would be satisfied with only your mouth.
As swiftly as your sore limbs allowed, you shuffled around so you faced the wall, your rear on display for your captor to see. Several seconds passed in utter silence. Your arms shook a little under the effort of holding yourself up after being restrained for so long. More seconds, perhaps a minute went by. One of your arms buckled, still numb from the cable ties.
It was as if he had been waiting for a sign to begin again. As your elbow bounced against the filthy mattress, a searingly sharp pain spread across the side of your thigh. You froze in the asymmetrical position and risked a look behind, mouth tight in pain.
Your torturer was holding a knife - you weren't sure where exactly he had been hiding it until you caught sight of a modest toolbox near his feet. The lid was open but you were at the wrong angle to see inside. Besides, you weren't really sure that you wanted to see what were clearly the instruments of your torture.
The knife was being pressed and dragged against your soft skin. You could tell he was using hardly any force, yet your flesh gave way to it like butter. It was impossible to know how deep the cut was, but you were positive it would leave a scar. Blood trickled down your leg, almost in a caress, as it escaped to create more marks on the heavily stained bed.
"Keep-still," came the familiar hiss, "or-more-pain."
Swallowing the lump in your throat dryly, you moved to regain your previous position and held it tensely. This man didn't make empty threats and you weren't about to test him unnecessarily.
Only a few seconds passed this time before you felt the next physical sensation. Something nudged at your entrance and with a jolt of horror, you realised it was his cock. Forgetting yourself, you twisted your head around to the side, opening your mouth to plead with him, that you clearly weren't ready, that he needed to stimulate you a little first.
It was all too little too late.
Before you had even drawn in the breath needed to speak, he drove himself hard inside of you. Your words caught in your throat as he immediately drew back out, only to plunge back a millisecond later. Over and over and over again, you felt your body tearing from his cruel ministrations.
He was thrusting so deep, the tip of his cock grazed your cervix with each penetration. You counted yourself lucky that this, at least, was nearly completely pain free. The rest of your insides screamed as he forced your tight passage to accommodate him.
He was almost entirely silent behind you, only his heavy breathing and your whimpering and pained moans were audible amongst the lewd slapping of flesh against flesh.
You relaxed your jaw a little as your body finally began to grow accustomed to him. The relief of this was short lived however. The fading pain and position of your bodies meant that the sensation of his balls smacking against your clit demanded your freshly freed attention. Each hit sent waves of unwanted pleasure through your lower stomach. You felt yourself growing gradually wetter. Tears fell down your cheeks with the humiliation of your body's betrayal.
This unfortunately didn't go unnoticed. The man cackled maniacally, the high pitch stinging your ears.
He spoke in a language you didn't recognise, his usually stunted voice suddenly flowing and musical, yet more chilling than you'd yet heard. The hairs on your arms and neck stood up.
You had no idea what he'd said in the strange language, but he now drilled into you harder and faster than ever.
You held onto fistfuls of the mattress as he threatened to topple you forwards with the momentum of his rutting.
Feeling the bed tip unevenly from added weight, you clung on tighter. Heat spread across your back as he leaned over.
So I wanted to try my hand at writing something a little darker than usual, exploring some more themes since I’m a fan of yandere and guro. PLEASE pay close attention to the warnings. I probably kept things relatively tame all things considered, but it is not a soft fluffy fic. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
Title: Eyes in the Dark
Rating: Explicit, R18+, 18+ not safe for kids
POV: second person AMAB reader, yandere refers to reader as ‘boy’ several times but it’s more of a demeaning thing as reader is 18+
Pairing: Reader/OC Yandere named Adrian
Warnings: NONCON, needles, drugs, kidnapping, torture, stitches, description of wounds, pins and trauma, ball gag, abusive, BL, mild choking, yandere, obsessiveness, unhealthy dynamic, smut, anal penetration, blood, crying, sense of helplessness
Word Count: 9,210
Living in a small village near the forest, you lived a quiet life living off the land. You had your garden, a well for water, and you trapped animals for both fur and sustenance. You could have lived in the city, but in all honesty, it felt right to be so close to nature. After all, you were a solitary creature, preferring the sound of nature over the bustling chaos of city life.
You were quick on your feet, used to running the floor of the forest, collecting wood and food on your excursions. Some of the beasts of the land were violent predators, but you had managed to evade any real harm to date. That is, until tonight.
You had left a little earlier in the morning than your usual schedule. It was a little before 3 a.m. but you wanted to travel down to the ravine later in the day to go fishing and you needed to divide your time carefully if you wanted to get everything done. You slung your knapsack over your shoulder and set out to the forest, yawning to yourself.
Unbeknownst to you, a strange man had been watching you. You sometimes felt eyes on you, but over time you learned to brush off the feeling. As long as it didn’t approach you, you couldn’t be bothered to investigate further. There were a lot of creatures that lived in this forest so you figured it was just another one of the beasts of the land.
Setting your bag down on a tree stump, you walk forward to check on one of your traps, only to step on a piece of rope. Your reaction time was off as the rope tightened around you ankle, hoisting you up in the air. You felt the blood rush to your head, and you flailed your arms around, trying to grab onto a nearby branch. If you could get the dagger out of your waistband, you would be able to cut yourself loose.
As you reached for your tool, you didn’t hear the man approach you. He moved with unnerving silence. You felt a sudden throbbing in your head and shouted out in pain, the world swirling around in your vision before going dark. The last thing you remember seeing was the smile of an unknown man, teeth unusually sharp.
"Ah, good morning my little flower, it's about time you got up," said the man. He knelt down in front of you, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze by lifting your face with his fingers on your chin. "We're going to have a lot of fun together~"
He had a wild look in his eyes; you couldn’t see his pupils, masked by the darkness of his eyes. It was as though his entire iris was a dark hole, pulling you in. Your eyes dart around the room, trying to get a bearing of where you were. Your arms were tied behind you, holding you firmly to a metal support beam. You assumed you were in a basement of some sort. The concrete floor felt damp and cold.
You open your mouth to speak, but the sadist cuts you off. "Stop it! Stop it please!" he cries out again, gripping your cheeks in his hands as he laughs. The sound was chilling, filled with a type of excitement you couldn’t quite place, but you knew it wasn’t good news for your situation.
You shudder, your entire body shaking. There was a tension in the air that made you feel uneasy. "Who are you? Where am I?" you ask, shaking your head from side to side, the man’s hand falling away from your chin.
“Where am I? What do you want from me!?” he mocked you, using a falsetto voice, pretending to cry. It was a twisted display and you found yourself frowning at him. A dark chuckle filled the room as the man shakes his head again, rearing his arm back. You felt his palm make contact with your cheek with a great force, pulling you instantly into reality. You jerk away from the slap, your face radiating with pain as warmth spreads across your cheek.
You tremble, wringing your wrists back and forth, the rope tying them together chaffing the skin. You wonder how long you had been out for. Judging by the soreness of your shoulders, it was at least an hour.
The man brought his face closer to yours, and you could feel your noses brush against one another. His gaze was intense, searching for something in your eyes. He paused, grinning once again. You felt unnerved by his erratic behavior.
"What do you want from me? Money? I'm not much of a ransom," you quip, your voice taking on a defensive edge as the man eyes you. You examined your captor's face. He was undoubtedly handsome, but with an edge of madness to him. He had brown slicked back hair, messy but kept. His eyes held a cruelty to them, and you sank back against the metal pole behind you.
You furrowed your brows in confusion at his confession; the hair on the back of your neck was standing on end. Suddenly, you felt very foolish for ignoring all those times out in the forest you didn’t listen to your gut.
Adrian snarled, slamming his fist into your chest hard. You gasp, wheezing as the breath is knocked out of you. You wheeze, the air pushed from your lungs, replaced by a bruising sting that blossomed across your chest. Your head hung forward as he pulled his fist back, averting your eyes to the ground as you struggled to regain your breath.
He seemed to be thinking, and you felt his nose brush up against yours again. “Money? Oh no my little flower, I don’t want your things. I want you.” He let out a shuddering breath; reaching the hand he was going to hit you with to stroke the side of your face gently. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this…”
The man pulled back just enough to poke his finger against your chest, as if to mock the fact that you were able to defend yourself. You squirmed against his touch, but you had nowhere to retreat to. You pushed your legs against the floor, arching as far back into the metal post as you could. “Who are you!? What do you want?” you pried, trying to get a grasp of your current situation. You felt like a record on repeat, but honestly the panic setting into your mind was scrambling your thoughts.
"I want you to scream," he says simply, as if this was all there was to life.
"What?" you ask. Your heart was racing and you felt another tremor work its way through you.
Adrian pauses, "I want you to scream for me... like a little bitch." He paused, taking the time to pet the hair on the side of your head soothingly. “I want to hear all the sounds you can make. All the pretty little expressions you can give me…”
The words you were thinking of saying next died in your throat before they could even be uttered. This man was crazy. He was going to hurt you, and you had no escape. You shivered, nervously chewing on your lower lip.
"After all this time…now that you’re finally here in my grasp, I want to hurt you, and humiliate you.” He continued petting your hair, tucking a lock of it behind your ear, revealing more of your face to him. “And you’ll be so good for me, won’t you? If not... well, I won't mince words. I will kill you."
You swallow thickly at his threat, taking him at his word. He went through all the trouble to capture you and tie you up in his basement, you were sure he would kill you without a second thought if you did something he didn't like. You would just have to get through this, you told yourself, trying to mentally prepare yourself for what happened next.
He nestled his nose into your hair, breathing deeply and letting out a low groan. “Aaah, my little flower, I want to bury myself in you so bad. Do you think you can take it?” Your mouth felt dry and you tried to swallow again, shakily replying, “I don’t….”
“Shh,” he placed a finger over your lips, stroking his finger along your mouth and tracing the line of your upper lip, smiling as you halted your protest. “That’s a good boy…”
A high pitched whimper emitted in the back of your throat as his threat became...sexual. You were scared; your heart was racing like it was going to jump out of your chest. He couldn’t be serious. Your eyes flickered back to his, and you could see desire pooling in his dark gaze. He was serious.
“Surely you want it too? You’re not a virgin are you?” he spoke low, clearly hoping for the latter to be true. You looked down at the ground, not wanting to meet his eye as you spoke. "No, I’m not," you admitted. Time had passed since then, but you had lain with a man before in your life. You weren't sure you liked the idea of it being with a complete stranger, however, let alone one who was holding you captive in his basement.
He clicked his tongue against his teeth, displeased at this revelation but he seemed to accept the fact. “No matter, once I take you for myself you won’t be able to think about anyone else,” as he spoke, a grin split open on his face and he leaned back in to nuzzle against your soft hair. “That’s right…I’ll take you over, and over again. You’ll be begging me before long…”
He seemed to be talking more to himself than to you. You could feel your face turn red at his sickly perverted ramble, "I don't want this…” you managed to murmur out. You could feel the blush blooming across your face and down your neck as he said those filthy words. It felt wrong. This was wrong. But your body betrayed the rational side of you, and you knew that it was only a matter of time before you would be fully erect.
A bemused chuckle reached your ears as the man pulled away from your hair, towering over you. "You don't have a choice," he spoke low, his voice husky with lust. “I’ve waited too long.”
This was it. He was going to hurt you. Or you were going to be fucked against your will. You screeched internally, realizing it was probably going to be a mixture of the two and you desperately wished you could wring your wrists out of the ropes.
As he stroked the side of your cheek, his hand felt colder than before. You shivered, your mind screaming at you to pull away from his touch, but if you played along he might not hurt you as bad. He could feel you trembling beneath his touch.
“Shhh, it’s ok, don’t be scared. I promise, you’ll enjoy this too. I’ll make sure of that,” he croons gently at you. It was a cruel mockery of kindness. His voice was rehearsed, but the gentleness didn’t reach his eyes.
"I don't...know you," you say quietly, tears starting to prick at the corners of your eyes as you look anywhere but his eyes. You couldn’t trust his saccharine voice, sweet as poison, and just as deadly. His eyes narrowed dangerously at your objection. He flicked his wrist, snapping your head back as his grip on your face tightened.
Your head was still sore from where he knocked you out earlier and you cried as your head smacked against the post. His lips twisted into a smirk and he let out a short bark of laughter, “Well then, how about we get to know each other a little.”
Your breath catches in your throat at the tone in his voice. You needed to soothe over the situation, quickly. "No! Ah, wait. That's not what I mean!" you smile nervously at the man, hoping to appease him. You flounder for your words and you swear you could see enjoyment in that infuriating smirk of his.
You try to scream but all that comes out is a pathetic snivel as your voice cracks under the emotion coursing through you. You were fighting against yourself not to cry. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. The feeling of fear crawled across your body, wrapping you in its embrace.
“Please…I want to go home,” your voice sounds defeated as it leaves you.
He stares at you coldly before speaking once more, “Don’t you want to please me?”
“Tell me then, what do you mean, my flower…” his pet name for you left you uncomfortable, but you weren’t exactly in a place where you could tell him off about it.
"I'll...play along...with you," you say, choosing your words carefully. You searched his face, watching for any change in his reaction. There was definitely enjoyment on his face as he heard you give into the situation.
What you were about to do was not going to be easy on you. It was paramount that you played into his little game. He seemed the type to peel off your skin slowly with his bare hands, and it made your stomach churn. You would need to give a good performance.
"So…what do you want me to do?" you ask, trying to sound coy. You were shifting your shoulders, the ropes around your wrists was cutting in, but you continued slowly twisting your hands back and forth, hoping to loosen the binds.
Adrian smiles, amusement clear in his eyes. "Oh? What’s this now, finally admitting your attraction to me? I’ll admit, I was anticipating it would take you longer to realize your feelings," he rambles on, a laugh escaping his lips.
"What do you mean?" you ask, your heart rate picking up pace again. You shifted awkwardly against the metal post, still unable to move from your spot. He stood up, walking over to the counter on the back wall of the basement to pick something up. You strained to see what he was holding, only to shrink back against the post as you noticed he was walking back toward you with a knife.
You close your eyes, taking a deep breath.
You were terrified of this man.
“Hmmm, I’ll tell you what,” he says, trailing off as his foot touches yours, nudging it a little with the tip of his shoe.
"You’ll be a good little pet for me, hm? I'll make sure you feel nice and special," as he speaks, his voice takes on a darker edge. He kicks your foot to the side, opening your legs as he kneels between your knees. He grins as he takes the knife and cuts away at your pants, leaving your bottom half bare to the cold air of the basement. You were frozen in place, just trying to focus on your breathing as he continued to rip your clothing away from you.
You keep telling yourself to stay calm. He'll realize he's gone too far, stop everything. But he just keeps going, grinning as he rips your underwear away from you as well.
You try to hide yourself from him by pulling your knees closer together, but he grabbed at your legs, pushing them apart. You were completely at his mercy, half aroused from the fear of the situation. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?" he says, voice filled with glee as he licks his lips. “See? I knew you were special…”
You see red. You want nothing more than to reach up, grab that disgusting man by the throat and squeeze until his eyes bulge from his head. You feel pathetic in how utterly helpless you were. If he hadn’t gotten the upper hand on you out in the woods, you would have had a chance to fight back. You wanted more than anything to be able to fight back.
You didn't dare do anything reckless when he had the knife so close to your most sensitive area. He trailed the cold tip of the knife up your thigh, pressing in just enough to leave a light trail of blood. It didn't hurt at first, as the knife kissed your skin, but as the blood came bubbling slowly to the surface you felt the sting of the cut.
He took his time working his way up your legs, taking his time with each cut. By the time he reached your groin, you held your breath in your throat, nervously flicking your eyes back and forth from the knife to his face and back again.
As he pressed the knife shallowly above your groin you moan out involuntarily, catching his attention. His eyes lock onto yours and a flush seems to creep over his cheeks, and he licks his lips slowly, clearly pleased.
“My my, so sensitive,” he breathed, fanning his face dramatically. He seemed to be a rather theatrical man. His voice dipped low again, taking on a sultry tone. “Look at you, getting hard from me cutting you. Tell me, were you always such a filthy pervert or are you just like this for me?”
Changing pace, he pulls back to hit you across the face with the flat of the knife, relishing your delicious reaction.
You cry out pitifully as the knife grazes your cheek from the impact of the blow. A fine line of blood drips down your chin, pooling along your jawline. You frown, your lower lip quivering as curse out, “Fuck…”
His eyes light up, “Aah, you’re so dirty. I knew you’d be perfect~” He was overcome with a giddy, twisted glee as he stood up, excitedly shuffling off to the other side of the basement.
You relax against the post, slumping your head against it to rest as you watched him retreat. You groaned quietly, still working at the ropes around your wrists, trying to get them to loosen. The rope was burning against your skin, and you knew without needing to see them that they were raw and red.
He turned around, pausing his ministrations for a while, just staring at you. He quietly turned away, shuffling bottles and a large toolbox around. The silence was all the encouragement you needed, and you started working feverishly at the knots, exhaustion taking over as your fingers finally work through the knots.
He seemed to be in thought; he paced around the basement, and you were worried he could see what you were up to. You take your chances regardless, freeing your hands from the rope and finally bringing them to your chest, your arms stiff from being held in the same position for hours.
You risk another glance at your captor, who is still pacing. You notice he has something in his hands that you hadn’t seen a moment ago. He was holding a long metal baton with spikes adorning the sides all the way to its pointed tip. You barely had time to register it before you were suddenly greeted with a sharp pain in both of your feet.
He had swung it against the bottom of your bare feet, making you cry out in agony, toes curling inward which only served to aggravate your weeping injury further. "Oh, I'm so sorry. Did that hurt?" he cooed, his voice mockingly sweet as he reeled back, slamming the baton against the heels of your feet this time. You saw white flashes in your vision as the pain exploded in your feet, leaving you incapable of running.
You screamed out, reaching instinctively to hold your legs, choking on a sob as the pain seared up your calves. "Did you really think I wouldn't notice you untying your ropes?" he breathed, dropping the bloodied weapon on the floor behind him with a metallic clink. He knelt between your knees once again, cupping your face in his hands. "You better not be trying to escape, my little flower,” he breathed against your cheek.
“What a naughty little thing, you just can’t help it can you?” he nods to himself, talking more at you than to you. "It’s alright, shh, it’s ok. It’s my fault, I haven’t broken you in yet, it’s ok…" He slipped his arms under yours and laid your arms around his shoulders, holding you tightly against his chest as he rocked you back and forth.
Tears welled in your eyes, and you were unable to stop them from streaming down your cheeks as he rocked you back and forth as though consoling a small child. He continued shushing you, petting your hair soothingly. "Naughty pets get punishment, but that's ok. You're learning...you're still learning," he mused, his voice taking on a sinister tone as he pulled back to wipe at your tears with his thumbs.
"I'll make sure you have so much fun here, you'll forget all your...trivial thoughts of wanting to run away,” he wiped away your tears, smearing some of the blood that was left behind from the earlier cut on your face.
‘Stop touching me with those horrible hands,' you thought to yourself, clenching your teeth together and breathing shakily. You could feel the blood tickling the bottoms of your soles, but the skin and muscle felt so raw you didn't find enjoyment in the sensation. You didn't have time to dwell on it long before he was pulling you to your feet, forcing you to stand.
You cried out loudly, desperately trying to shift the weight off of your feet as he led you over to a cart filled with instruments of torture. He half drug your body to a table, and when you weren’t able to take a further step forward, he fastened his hands under your arms to lift you onto the table. It made you feel like you weighed nothing to him.
You were forced into an awkward sitting position, your arms stretched out in front of you as he chained them to the metal handles at the end.
"Now, you won't be getting out of these as easily," he said cheerfully, patting the metal rings he fastened around your wrists, admiring his handiwork. The clasps were fastened to the ceiling, held together with long chains. You could swing your arms a little, but the range of motion was restricted. Your wrists were still raw with the rope burn from before, the cool metal biting against your flesh.
While you were adjusting to your new position, he turned around to grab a few more of his toys. In one hand was a shorter chain, and in the other was a ball gag. He gave you another cheery smile, holding them up proudly.
Your eyes widen as you notice the ball gag in his hands and he gives you a friendly smile, "Shhh, don’t be scared." He pressed the gag against your lips, holding the back of your head, the chain still wrapped in his other hand. "Open up for me, hm?" He tugged on a fistful of your hair, causing you to gasp. He used the opportunity to press the gag into your mouth, carefully fastening it around your head. "That's better," he mused, wrapping the shorter chain around your throat like a makeshift collar and leash.
You could barely move as he wrapped the chain around your neck, his hand on the other side of your head holding the chain tight against his body. He smiled fondly at you, giving it an experimental tug just to listen to your panicked whine. “Aah, beautiful…” he murmured.
You choked on a sob, blinking away several tears that had begun to form again. You didn't want to be congested with your mouth in such an awkward position, forced open to accommodate the ball. You were thankful for the holes in the sides, likely to assist in breathing, but you knew that before long you would end up drooling and it was demeaning.
He let the chain go for now, letting it dangle around your chest. You had been completely stripped by the blade of his knife earlier, and you felt extremely vulnerable in your current position. You could only watch as he mulled over which of his 'toys' to use first.
Adrian rubbed your shoulder, "Good, very good. You’re doing so well," he turned to pick up two needles, one long and one much shorter. “I know you’re scared little one.” You couldn’t help but whine in the back of your throat again. What was he going to inject you with?
"But that's ok~ I'll make sure you feel really good," he chuckled to himself approaching the table once again. He set the shorter needle down momentarily, inspecting the red tinted liquid in the longer syringe, giving the tip of the needle a little flick as he pushed some of the liquid through, checking for air. "Perfect," he pulls out a small alcohol wipe, ripping the package open with his teeth and running the cool pad over your shoulder. "Take a deep breath for me, ok?" he coos, pressing the needle into your arm, slowly injecting the foreign liquid into you.
You slowly nod, taking in a shaky breath. Once finished, he dabs the little puncture would left behind again with the wipe, moving to the other side of the table with the smaller needle in hand. He repeats the process of wiping down a small patch on your neck before pressing carefully into the crook of your neck. It pinched going in but soon your head felt muddy as the pain in your feet and limbs subsided.
You let out a soft moan, somewhat out of surprise, as the pain was wicked away. He had injected you with a pain reliever, which you were immediately grateful for. But the other injection was also starting to take effect… You felt your skin felt flushed from head to toe. Your breath was increasing in frequency and it felt like the medicine was seeping into every pore.
"Isn’t that better?" he spoke, smiling at you. That damned, incessant smile. He began slowly kissing his way up your stomach, pausing at your chest to swirl his tongue around your now aching nipples.
A lascivious moan escapes your throat, muffled by the gag in your mouth. It startles you, and you feel a pool of heat gathering in your lower half. Your vision is hazy, and your thoughts are jumbled. It feels like your head is underwater. Another moan bubbles in your throat as Adrian bites harshly on a pert nipple, causing you to arch into him.
"Does that feel good?" he asks sweetly, twisting the sensitive nub.
You shiver, nodding your head weakly, earning another chuckle from the man. He plays with the chain dangling from your neck, giving it a little tug just to jolt you.
"Isn't it better when you just play along?" He smiles, giving another gentle tug on the chain. You can’t seem to answer him, your body was aching sweetly, and you swayed a little on the table, the chains rattling at your movement.
He shifts his weight off the table momentarily to put the emptied syringes back into his toolbox. He would worry about cleaning them later. For now, he was going to have fun with his new pet.
"Tell me, have you ever tasted your own blood?"
Your eyes widen in terror as your mind scrambles to come up with an answer. You go to respond, momentarily forgetting the gag in your mouth. You make a muffled sound before shaking your from side to side, eyeing him suspiciously. He hums to himself, picking a small, decorative knife from the toolbox, inspecting it for sharpness before turning to face you completely. "Oh that's a shame," his voice has a mocking sense of pity in it as he approaches you with a glint in his eye. "Let's change that shall we?"
A distressed whimper hangs in the back of your throat and you tug at the chains around your wrist. You still your movements when you notice the frown curving on his lips. His eyes were narrow as he pressed the knife up against your collarbone, letting the blade kiss your skin lightly, a thin trail of blood dripping down in a single line down your chest. He admired it for a moment before flipping it in his hand and driving the blade down into your thigh.
A startled yelp escapes your lips as you tears rapidly fall down your cheeks. You press your tongue hard against the gag to prevent yourself from screaming, trying to bite against the slippery surface. The pain was dulled from the earlier injection, but you were still able to feel the subdued ache that it left behind. He twisted the knife harshly to the side, opening a gash in your soft thigh and you wince, crying out as you avert your eyes away from the damage.
Unfortunately for you, the aphrodisiac in your system was tricking your mind into reacting to the pain by sending jolts of pleasure through your system. It made you want to feel sick, sending a violent shudder up your spine.
He begins to trace a finger along your oozing wound, painting his finger a deep shade of crimson. He hums to himself again, grin widening as a ghastly idea inspires him into action. He grabs a straight pin from the table, leaning in to press it into your throbbing flesh.
He stood back for a moment, eyes trailing over the pin in your wound and he smiled thoughtfully, standing back to grab several more pins, effectively adorning them across your wound to hold it open. "Beautiful," he breathed, admiring the weeping, mutilated flesh. You breathed harshly, the sensations nearly overwhelming your senses. You didn't want to look at it; it made your stomach drop.
He leans over the table in front of you, lifting your chin up with a rough hand.
Adrian then presses his index finger directly into the gaping wound, coating his finger in your warm, sticky blood. Your face twists in agony as he penetrates your thigh. You could see him shiver, and a twisted smile graced his handsome features. You wished the circumstances were different, then you might truly be able to appreciate the man's face. But right now your emotions felt mixed, and your pulse pounded in your temples. You just wanted him to stop.
He twirls his finger in the air, drawing out the moment before he brings it down to one of the holes in the ball gag, letting it drip inside. You were frozen, fixated on his hand as your own blood dripped down, onto your tongue. You had no choice but to taste the metallic, copper tang that coated your tongue. It made you dizzy, but you moaned out reflexively.
"Savor," he whispers quietly, watching your reaction carefully. You can tell he's enjoying this.
You let your eyes flutter shut, focusing on the strange taste in your mouth. There was a vague sweetness to it that you assumed was the result of whatever he injected you with. You swayed a little, your body feeling slow as another wave of warmth spread across you.
You were about to lose consciousness. He knew it.
"Aah, I can hardly take it. You’re so beautiful,” he gushed, admiring your body as you struggled against your consciousness. “I'm going to enjoy this."
He traced a hand under your chin almost lovingly, reaching back to his toolbox. "As much as I love seeing you so...helpless...I can't have you falling asleep before the main event."
You kept your eyes closed, embracing the warmth of his hand as he caressed you. You leaned into him, and made a small noise of disappointment when he withdrew his touch. It wasn't until you felt another needle injecting into your skin that you blearily opened your eyes. A jolt of electricity coursed through your body, rousing your senses and you were suddenly wracked with shivers.
Your veins felt cold, but your skin burned hotter. He stood over you, studying you, watching as your body started to react to the pain that was surely throbbing from your torn up thigh. He took in a sharp breath, palming himself through his pants at the sight of you. A disheveled mess.
“Aaahn, I made a miscalculation in the sedative but I made it all better,” he shuddered, working himself up. You could see his impressive erection straining against his pants as he palmed himself.
"Let's start again," he finally said. You heard the buckle of his pants come undone, and for the life of you, you wished the sound of it hadn't turned you on. You felt disgusting. You whined, twisting your hips as you continued to arch and writhe in place.
You cried out, arching with nowhere to go. Your arms pulled against the chains that held you in place and you writhed in your seat on the table. The pain started to mix into a complicated sensation, causing you to pant out harshly, the ball gag impeding your ability to really do much else.
He stood over you, watching.
"Do you have any idea how arousing it is to watch you fight against it?" his voice was thick with desire, and it made your stomach clench. You locked eyes with his, unable to stop your body from trembling at the sight of him. You could only watch as he disrobed, exposing his muscular body to you.
“I’ve been waiting for this moment,” he exhaled slowly, swooning. You shook your head, unable to speak through the gag. He crawled forward, hands running along the top of your thighs.
"Give in," he spoke low, his left hand ghosting over the trauma he inflicted on your thigh. You couldn’t help but react to his touch. He let his hands trail higher, touching everywhere but your now fully erect cock. A bead of precum dripped from the tip of your penis, which strained against your abdomen painfully.
He leaned forward and lapped it up with his tongue, his eye contact intense as he pressed his tongue flat against the tip, and you saw stars. You moaned loudly, every fiber of your being lighting up. He didn't give you much relief, however, moving instead to lick across your stomach, all the way up to your chest where he teased your nipples. A sharp pain shot through you, and you whined into your gag, moving your hips in tiny little circles.
You shook, rutting your hips frantically as he bit into your nipple once again, causing your hips to jerk forward. You desperately wanted more, the danger of the situation currently being outweighed by your near violent arousal.
He traced his fingers along your thigh once more, but stopped. You whined into the gag, desperate for him to continue.
"You poor thing, do you want to touch yourself?" he asked, his eyes flickering over you.
Your eyes trailed to the chains that held your wrists in place and you looked back to him cautiously at first but soon you found yourself nodding enthusiastically, offering eager, yet muffled begs behind your ball gag for him to release your arms.
He didn't move to release you, instead moving one of his hands to your chest, pushing on your shoulders as he moved you up the table, angling your body to an almost perfect position.
"Mmph!" you cried out.
Your arms were placed in a rather precarious position, straining against your shoulders as the binds forced your hands forward. He had pulled your lower half down so you were no longer sitting upright, but rather, leaned against the top half of the table. Your legs were pushed to the sides, causing your mangled feet to dangle off either edge of the table.
“Perhaps another time… I’d love to watch you pleasure yourself to the thought of me,” he chuckled, positioning your body to suit his needs. You were stretched out, open, ready for him to do whatever he wanted with you.
He trailed his hand up your chest to press into your neck, holding down for a few pauses before letting go, watching you struggle for breath. Laughing quietly to himself, he yanked the chain around your neck, tightening the hold he had on you.
Groaning, you gasp for breath as he releases his hold on your neck only to let out a startled, yet muffled shout when he yanked the chain, pulling you off the table by roughly an inch before dropping you back onto it. Due to your constant attempts at communication, you can feel the saliva collecting in your mouth, noticing it had already started to drool down your chin.
Adrian released the chain and you coughed and sputtered, trying to catch your breath.
"Mphmm," you try to reason with him, steadying your quickened breaths. The man reaches over to the cart next to his toolbox, and picks up a bottle off the cart. You watch as he squirts the thick, gooey substance out onto his fingers. "I like it to feel good for me too," he states matter-of-factly. "Blood doesn't make the best lubricant." His words were cryptic, as though he had a lot of experience in that field.
Pulling your legs away, he nestles in front of you, spreading them slightly as he kneels down. You keen loudly, rutting your hips against the air, digging your back against the table. He pressed a hand against your hip, pressing you back down. "Don’t worry; I'm going to give you something that's going to make you feel really good."
And with that, he presses the first lubed finger against your puckered hole. The lubricant is cold, but it feels nice against your feverish skin. You moan out, long and drawn out as he dips the finger in to the knuckle, slowly fingering it inside of you.
He's stretching you, and in this moment you had never felt anything so intense. The aphrodisiac and adrenaline coursing through your body left you a whimpering jittery mess.
He adds a second finger, scissoring them to allow for easier access as he stretches you open.
You can't help but rut against his fingers, and it seems to please him greatly. "You're being such a good little pet right now, that's right. Fuck yourself on my fingers," he encourages you, watching as you hopelessly try to get off on his fingers, twisting and stretching inside you. He lifted his hand off of your hip, allowing you to have more movement.
You raise your hips as he continues to scissor his fingers, having just added a third to the mix, trying to get as much pleasure out of the feeling as you can.
You mewl a high pitched whine as he curves his fingers, striking that spot inside of you that makes you see stars. You practically thrash against his hand, trying to replicate the sensation erratically.
"Yes, that's it," he whispers, "I'm going to make you feel so good. You want that don't you? You want me to make you come hard and fast, don't you?" his words picked up with excitement, and he laughed manically, watching you chase your pleasure on his fingers.
"MMPH!" you cry out with fervor, rocking back and forth against his digits, your legs still dangling over the edge of the table. Your arms strained aggressively against the chains but you didn't care. You couldn't care. You couldn't think about anything else other than the pleasure that was building in your core. That is, until he withdrew his hand.
The sudden absence of it makes you moan in opposition, broken into sudden sobs at the sudden feeling of abrupt emptiness.
"Shh, shh, it's ok. I'll fill you up, don't you worry," he consoles you with his deep, low voice. You lull your head to the side, another shiver trailing its way to the base of your spine as he licks his lips slowly, lining himself up against your opening.
He pushes himself forward, sliding into you in one hard thrust. He's so... big. So much bigger than any other person you've fit inside yourself.
The loudest moan yet erupted from your throat, and you drooled down the sides and holes of your gag. You were thankful he took the time to stretch you out, knowing that he would have split you open if he tried to thrust in like that unprepared. You found yourself weeping, overwhelmed with emotion as he pulled back and began thrusting in earnest.
"Ah... fuck, yes..." he pants, and with one hand he roughly grabs your hair, holding you in place as he thrusts into you.
The dull pain from the rough grip he had on your hair only fueled the fire in your gut. The pain medicine had dissipated almost entirely, but you were in such a high state of arousal that you didn't mind. The only thing you cared about was chasing your release, your body felt like you were treading through fire and water at the same time. Your cock ached against your belly; pushed up against you at the angle Adrian was fucking you into the table.
His thrusts became faster. More erratic. You could make out the grunts of effort as he needed to put all his strength into each thrust. He growls, long and low.
Your eyes crossed at the sound of his growl. It was so primal, and awakened a very submissive urge in you. You mewled and arched your back, slightly, still being held in place by the hand on your hair. You just wanted to increase the friction on your weeping, neglected cock.
You made a pitiful noise in the back of your throat as you breathed heavily. He growled again, “Come for me, you can do it. Come on nothing but my cock, I can see it written all over your face.” He picked up his pace, ramming into you with ruthless abandon.
“You’re my filthy little cumslut aren’t you? Aah, that’s right, come on my cock for me,” he continued to encourage you with dirty talk. You arched off the table, straining firmly against the chains around your wrists. He gripped at your hips, digging his nails firmly into your skin as he angled his thrusts against your prostate, earning a loud howl from you. With each thrust he hit that sweet spot and you felt the build of your orgasm pool deep within you. It wasn't long before you were sobbing again, your orgasm sweeping over you with white hot emotion.
Your body shook as he continued to grip you tightly. You felt the warm splash of your cum hit your stomach, painting you in your own seed. He growled, his eyes completely clouding over at the sight, and with one last, powerful thrust he came into you.
Tears stained your face, your hair was tousled from his rough grip, you were an absolute trainwreck but you were beyond feeling self-conscious about it. You felt his seed empty inside of you, filling you with a warm sensation. You moaned quietly, rolling your hips against his cock as he held the base of his shaft, milking every last drop of his cum inside your hole.
The pair of you panted, both of you staring at each other as you came down from your high.
You had nearly lost your voice; it came out as a hoarse, broken sound as you tried to say something against the ball gag in your mouth. You were covered in your own saliva, cum, tears, and blood. Adrian looked at you reverently, clearly admiring the state he had put you in.
He slowly pulled out of you, a soft groan escaping your lips. You panted, feeling a sense of exhilaration as his cum gushed out. It was still warm as it tickled down your skin, an altogether pleasant sensation.
"You like that? Hm?”
You shivered weakly, slumping against the table the best you could with the binds still holding your arms forward. It had taken a lot out of you.
"You’re so perfect…" he whispered quietly to himself, reaching toward you to release the ball gag, and a flood of air rushed into your mouth. You coughed, hacking up a wad of saliva and blood, but felt so much better for it.
You flushed, embarrassed that you had made a mess. Worried it might set him off again. You watched for any sign of contempt but didn't notice any outright.
He wiped his hand down your face and neck, gently cleaning you off, before releasing you from the chains holding you in place. You fell to the ground with a thud, a weak cry murmuring in your throat as your face pressed against the cool concrete.
You groan on the floor, attempting to use your raspy voice, "Please..help..." you manage to whisper out, reaching for the man.
He smiles, a bright, toothy grin that makes you shiver, "I'm sorry about that. Wasn't watching where I was pulling, won't you forgive me?" he asks in an almost playful tone, leaning down to pick you up. He glanced at the mess on the table and seemed to mull something over, but he decided to set you back down on the dirtied table at least temporarily.
You struggle to stay upright, your body suddenly very exhausted, either from the intensity of your previous session or from the adrenaline that had been injected into your body previously. Your limbs felt like lead and your body was crying out in pain. The pins in your thigh had pressed in further when you fell and your leg was oozing blood.
He stepped back, a cruel grin spreading across his face, "Please forgive me," he said again.
You give him a pathetic look, all the fight having been sapped out of your maimed body. "Ok..." you say quietly, rubbing at your thigh to try to ease some of the pain.
You chew on your lower lip, an anxious habit, as you worked up the courage to ask him to do something for you. "Could...could you please take out these pins, sir?" your voice was raw, but audible.
He tilted his head, "The ones in your leg?" he asked in mock surprise.
"Yes...my leg...I..."
He grasped your thigh in his hand, tightening his grip as he played with one of the pins, wiggling it back and forth with his eyes fixated on your reaction. You let out a small moan, your body still sending mixed signals from your previous arousal. His eyes flicked up to meet with yours and he raised an eyebrow, "This one?" he asked, feigning ignorance.
"Please..." you whimpered.
"Well, I suppose I could get that closed up for you. Wouldn't want you to bleed out on me now would I?" he flashed another grin, and walked over to the counter, fetching what appeared to be a first aid kit before returning to his previous position.
He opened it and bent down to you, "We're going to have to do this the old fashioned way then. Hold still."
You opened your mouth to question him but were immediately cut off with a yelp as he began to pry the needles out of your leg. He counted them, and then counted them again just to be sure before taking out a small bottle of antiseptic and pouring it directly onto the wound. You let out a piercing scream, nearly losing the rest of your voice in the process.
His hands were warm as they pressed on your leg, trying to clean the wound as effectively as he could. "It'll be fine, I promise," he whispered in your ear as he cleaned the wounds, "Just relax."
He hummed to himself as he pulled out a suture kit. Pouring some of the antiseptic out onto his hands, he rubs them together before gathering his tools. He threaded the hook carefully, pulling an edge of the wound and angling the hooked needle at a 90 degree angle before piercing the skin deeply, careful not to pull up as he threaded it through to the other side, tying the edges together to hold the middle of your wound closed. You whimpered quietly as he worked, not able to look down as the needle and medical thread were threaded through your flesh.
There was a slight pain as the stitches were tied off, and you snuck a quick peak, only to look down to see blood dripping down your shin, staining your knee down to your ankle red. Another whimper escaped your lips and you buried your face in your hands, rubbing your face gently as you tried to distract yourself from the stitches the man was giving you.
"Thank you," you said quietly, not moving the hands from in front of your eyes. You could not watch it any longer.
"You're most welcome," though you couldn't see it, his smile deepened into a something more genuine as he continued his work.
When it seemed he was finished with the sutures on your leg, you cracked a finger open to look down, amazed that the stitches looked so...professional.
You looked up at him again, and found him staring intently down at his work. He looked back up at you, a little surprise on his face as he saw your hands had finally moved from covering up your pretty face.
He trailed his hands down your calves, lifting your legs up to examine the trauma he had inflicted to the bottoms of your feet earlier. "Hmmm, looks like you won't be running off any time soon. How about I run us a nice hot bath and we can wrap these up, hm?" He released your leg, letting it dangle back off the side of the table before standing up. You nodded nervously, watching him as he moved through the dimly lit room to the corner of the room.
You could hear clanking noises as he seemed to be putting things into a sink. Your suspicions were confirmed when you heard the tap water running, the sound was almost soothing in how normal it was. Once satisfied, he returned to scoop you up in his arms, leading you toward the stairs that led to the main part of his house. You held on tightly, afraid he might drop you at any minute.
He sat you on a metal rack in the bathroom, as hot water trickled down from a faucet into a bathtub.
You watched intently as he added soap and some sort of scented pebbles into the water, intrigued when they dissolved into the hot water. While the water ran, he made sure to get some towels and gauze ready, laying out a fresh bathmat next to the tub before finally shutting the water back off.
"Let's get you into that bath now, my little flower," he crooned.
He eased you into the bathwater, climbing in right behind you, letting you lay against his chest as he bathed every inch of you. He tickled the backs of your ears, relishing when you tried to move away from his touch.
He obviously wasn't annoyed at you for this outburst though, and instead decided to startle you by biting your shoulder.
"OW!" you yelled, jumping in the water.
It sloshed around you, the water having turned a light pink shade from the blood. You heard a chuckle behind you before you felt his flattened tongue pressed against his little bite, soothing over the wound. You found yourself leaning into him once again.
"Do you like being scared? That's how you get my attention, little one. You need to work harder next time." His words held a cryptic tone once again. You couldn’t figure him out. His personality seemed all over the place and it left you on edge.
"Why me?" you ask, shifting a little as he reaches down, 'cleaning' you out by pressing his fingers back into your hole to coax out the rest of his cum. You let out a sling of delightful noises as he wriggled his finger in and out of your sensitive entrance.
He bit your shoulder once again, harder this time, and you yelped. He slowed his ministrations down to little nibbles, and by the time he was finished you had calmed down again.
"Mmm, as much as I would love to go a second round, I think we need to get you cleaned up," he sighed, opening the drain to the tub, startling you with the loud noise as the water flowed down the drain, he stood up, turning the water to the shower head on, detaching it so that he could finish washing the two of you.
Once you were both clean, he dried you off first, rubbing baby oil into your skin and scalp until your hair was slicked back.
It was strange, that he was almost...pampering you after what he did to you down in his basement. It made your stomach do a little flip as he treated you so gently. He took the time to wrap your feet in gauze, only occasionally squeezing a little too tight just to see your face twist in pain.
Once your preparations were done, he picked you up from the table and set you on your feet again.
You winced, immediately leaning forward to fall into his arms. You couldn't bear the weight on your feet, even with them wrapped in bandages. The pain was simply too intense. There was no way you were going to able to run like this. He smirked, leaving you to flounder for a few more moments before scooping you up into his arms.
You settled into his rhythm, as he walked from the kitchen and down the stairs, holding you tightly as you buried your head into his shoulder.
You were led to a bedroom, where he laid you out onto a lavish bed, all the while never averting his gaze from you. He watched as your eyes fluttered, feeling the comfortable bed behind you as you sank against the cushion. "Comfortable?" he asked.
"Mm," you answered, the exhaustion weighing down on you. He leans forward, placing a kiss against your temple, playing with your slicked back hair.
"Get some rest. I have a few...tasks for you in the morning, once you've had time to rest. But right now, it's time to sleep."
You would worry about what the future held in the morning, for now, sleep was encompassing you in a welcoming darkness. You could hardly hear the next few sentences out of his mouth, his voice fading in and out, "...and if you try to crawl away I'll just break your kneecaps." He stroked the side of your face tenderly, watching as you finally fell asleep. "Sweet dreams."
