Turn The Key 11 Break The Bonds

CW: Mind control, Dollification, Non-Consent, Capture, Substances, Impact, Blood, Violence. All characters are adults.

Break the Bonds

I pull the coarse cotton blanket tighter around me and listen to the silence. It's been almost two hours since the crashing noises have ceased. The man had been in a rage when he left the bedroom. I'd heard the overturning of furniture and the breaking of glass, before finally a silence had fallen. The quiet is more disconcerting than the noise. He's had a lot of time to plot his malice and I have no idea what lies in wait. I've dressed in the pinafore skirt and blouse left in the closet more for warmth than to cover my nakedness.

I shiver when I hear heavy footsteps at the door, and it cracks open allowing light to spill across the floor of my windowless room. "Come on out little darling," he beckons with deceptive sweetness in his voice.

I know his words are not a request and I have nowhere to hide. As I bring myself to the threshold, I resolve to save my energy for when it will really count. Stepping out into the main living area, it's clear he's cleaned up the mess in the cabin. Tea is set up in the usual place but I take note of the Styrofoam cups that have replaced the china tea set. "Yes," he says calmly following my gaze. "Unfortunately, the tea set was a bit of a casualty this morning. I'll replace it at a later time but for now there's something I want to show you."

The man wraps his palm firmly around my upper arm, leading me towards the door with a strength that I know will become dragging if I resist. I gasp when I take my first breath of fresh air since entering the cabin. Tears threaten to roll down my cheeks. I'd been uncertain if I would ever see the sky again.

The man pulls me along deeper into the woods. I nearly vomit at the sight before me when we finally come to a stop. "I bet if you lie down, you'll see it's exactly your size," he whispers in my ear gesturing to the gaping hole he's dug into the earth. "Do you want to try it out?"

I step back involuntarily and shake my head. He chuckles. "Eventually I'll need to fill this in," the man continues. "It's up to you whether you are inside or outside of this hole when that happens. Do I make myself perfectly clear?" I nod this time in response.

"Good girl." The words on his lips turn my stomach again as he guides me back to the cabin for tea and whatever other horrors await. We eat in silence and I assume he's giving me time to process what has just happened. My mind is finally clear of all the drugs and there is no mistaking the message I have just received. He's not received the return he expected on his little venture, and if prospects do not improve, he has a backup plan.

I tremble when I hear his voice again ordering me to remove my panties. Modesty is not worth my life and I comply. He smiles widely, every "good girl" making me re-evaluate the comfort of the hole in the woods. The man produces some pads of thick paper and art supplies. "I want you to be a good girl and make some art for Daddy, but make sure you keep your bum in the air so I can see all of your pretty little parts," he commands.

I get down on all fours and lower my chest to the ground, putting

ma minette

on full display. With my face close to the floor I reach for a pad and some oil pastels, trying not to let my expression give away the glimmer of hope that blooms in my chest when I see the jagged shard of porcelain tea cup tucked behind the leg of my usual chair. The man is becoming sloppy as his mind unravels. He's missed a piece.

Each time I reach for a new color, I shift a few inches closer to the chair. I know that if I can just get within arms' reach, I might have a means of defending myself. "Roll over and touch yourself while Daddy watches," the man commands, inpatient to exercise his new found control. I grit my teeth and roll onto my backside. The situation is humiliating but it gives me an excuse to move closer to the chair.

I lift my skirt slowly up to my hips. "Good girl. Spread your knees wide for Daddy and play with yourself," he encourages. I swallow the lump in my throat as I allow my fingers to dance across my softest folds, his gaze penetrating deeply. I stop and withdraw my hand as he removes his own clothes, revealing his muscled form underneath. The man comes to kneel on the floor in front of me and I know my timing must be precise or all will be lost.

He fumbles for a moment in the pocket of his discarded pants and produces the false key. I steel myself for what is to come. It takes every fiber of strength I possess to lift my chin and offer my throat to this monster. It catches him off guard, shock quickly being replaced by a wide smile. I feel the key press roughly against my hollow and when I feel it turn, I allow my body to collapse backwards onto the floor like a sprawling rag doll. I paint a blank glazed look over my face, and don't even allow myself a breath of relief when the hand under the chair wraps tightly around the shard.

I know that I'll need to wait for him to move into striking range and so I force my muscles to remain limp as he presses my thighs apart, praising his "good dolly" and running his fingers over my delicate flesh before pressing them inside of me. I will myself to remain still as his tongue joins his fingers in exploration. The man takes his time, enjoying himself in an unhurried way that makes my skin crawl, until at last he mounts me. He tucks his chin down just out of range, pausing to take my breasts one at a time into his mouth, rolling my nipples softly between his lips. I'm filled with horror when I feel his flesh, fully erect for the first time, tease against my opening. My heart begins to race wondering if he will shift to a more vulnerable position in time.

The man doesn't press inside quickly however. Instead, he wraps his large hand around my jaw and tilts my expressionless face to meet his own triumphant one. "I want to see your face when I fill you with my cock for the first time," he whispers. He leaves one hand on my jaw and wraps the other under my hip, shifting me into his preferred position. "You're such a good girl," he breathes one last time before I lash out with the shard and slice at his carotid, bathing myself in his blood and listening as his sickening voice is replaced by gurgles.

Ringing fills my ears as red rivulets run down my face. The man rolls to the side clutching his throat and attempting to crawl away before collapsing on his stomach. I spit his metallic tasting blood out onto the floor and watch the life drain from his eyes, unable to tear them away even as a flurry of activity bursts through the door of the cabin. A loud banging noise rings out repeatedly and the man's body begins to twitch. I want to tell them that he's already dead, but I can't find my voice as I look up to see my real Daddy running towards me and Mademoiselle Pêche, standing in a horrified stupor, smoking gun in hand.

Pêche meets my gaze and I feel the panic consume her. "I shot him!" she cries out. "Oh my god I shot him, what are we going to do?" She doesn't realize that the man, our monster, Jonathan, had expired before she ever even pulled the trigger.

My foggy brain thinks maybe I should tell her that I'm the one who made the fatal blow. Maybe it will calm her down a bit, and her panic is making me agitated. I open my mouth to tell her to stop screaming, but another response seems to slip from my lips automatically. "Don't worry," I manage, "there's already a hole dug out back."

Epilogue:

The first real sensation I feel is my Daddy pulling me into his arms, his tears mingling with the blood on my face. "Take me away from here," I whisper. A key emerges from his pocket, my only key, and when he turns it my consciousness blissfully fades away.

When I wake to find him withdrawing the key, I'm safe and back in our bed. I find I'm wrapped in one of Daddy's soft t-shirts and what looks to be every blanket we possess in the house. Citrouille is curled up beside me and Ana is snoring softly in an armchair in the corner of the room. Tears of relief spill from my eyes when I see that she's alive and well. "She hasn't left your side since we got home," my Daddy whispers.

I touch my face softly and run my hands through my soft curls. No traces of blood remain. "I thought of trying to erase it from your mind Honey," he says with concern in his gaze, "but I wasn't sure if that would really be healthy. I think it's important for you to know it was real and that you survived." Daddy tells me I've already been checked over by a private physician, and aside from some bruises and scrapes, I have a clean bill of health.

I snuggle close into Daddy's arms. "I think I'm OK with the security team moving in now," I sob into his chest. He assures me it's already been arranged as he strokes my hair and soothes me. As it turns out, there will be no legal repercussions. Daddy had chosen not to dump the body in the hole and called the police instead.

"I didn't want you to have it hanging over your head and I knew the law was on your side," he soothes. The authorities had already been searching for me after viewing the security video of the kidnapping. That combined with the discovery of the drugs in the monster's car, bruises on my body, and shed full of furniture used to make me believe I had been moved to a new location had been more than enough to convince the powers at be that I had acted in self-defense. Ana had already given a statement, and even Madmoiselle Pêche was off the hook given that Jonathan had already expired when she emptied her clip into his body. It seems, Daddy informs me, there's really nothing left for me to do other than rest and recover.

"Make me forget," I whisper. The look of concern on Daddy's face grows deeper. "Not with magic," I assure him, as I reach up to kiss him and slide my hands downward to find his cock. "Wipe away his touch with yours," I plead, and he softens. Daddy lifts the T-shirt up over my head and carries me to the bath. I choose the bubbles, cinnamon this time, and Daddy surprises me by climbing into the tub with me. As it turns out, right now, his skin on mine is the only magic I need.

Fin

Authors note: It has been a journey getting here! I didn't set out to write a novel, but here I am at the end of one! Thanks to everyone who has cheered me on along the way. I really hope you've enjoyed the ride as much as I have. If you're just joining me here at the end for the first time, Break the Bonds may be enjoyed as a standalone but may be best enjoyed as a part of the complete Turn the Key series here on Literotica!

Bisous Partout,

Sunny