This is a work of fiction to be consumed ONLY by adults 18 years of age or older. All characters depicted are at least 18 years old. This is a non-consensual, coercive pairing between a dominant man in his late twenties and a virginal woman in her late teens, and involves elements of BDSM, including bondage, spanking, humiliation, and etc. This work
IS NOT
intended as a healthy or accurate depiction of safe, sane, consensual kink - hence it being listed in the non-consent category, and not the BDSM category. This work is purely fantasy and is not written as an endorsement of any illegal, immoral, or non-consensual activities. The opinions expressed by characters do not necessarily reflect the views of the author.
In real life, healthy BDSM is a negotiation with clear, defined rules for both parties, and consent is required.
Coercive BDSM as depicted within is a heinous crime. Read at your own risk.
This is a multi-chapter story - I recommend reading parts one and two for the best experience. It should be noted that this is a moderately rough story and people who dislike violence, extreme degradation, and non-consensual pairings are not encouraged to read, rate, or comment.
This chapter also includes:
potential drowning triggers, rough anal sex, and light knife play.
If ANYTHING described in this disclaimer offends or upsets you,
please choose a different story to spend your time with
. Thank you.
SUNDAY AT NOON
David found himself in the kitchen, not having specific memories about how he arrived there. He was standing at the sink, staring into the spotless, stainless steel basin as scalding water splashed against the surface, and steam rose up in clouds around his face. He was holding a washcloth, but he hadn't moved it towards the faucet yet. He glanced at the clock and noticed, with a small start, that it was exactly twelve, noon. He had approximately forty-eight hours left with Cadence.
This thought spurred him back into motion, reminded him what was at stake. Everything was so tenuous. He had pushed Cadence far, maybe too far, but god, had it felt good. Coming all over her pretty cheeks and leaving her to stew in his spunk was maybe one of his sweetest moments, ever. She had looked up at him, so full of resentment, but so utterly defeated. He wanted more.
He gave the washcloth a quick rinse. A cup of water with a straw was sitting near the sink. He already had an icepack for her face. He didn't want to bruise her - not there, anyway. She was a beautiful girl, a delicate girl. It was fun destroying her, but he still wanted her to be pretty. Some of his enjoyment would be lessened if she bore his marks on her face, if she was degraded so blatantly. There were better ways to hurt her, ways that kept her beautiful - enhanced it, even.
He was going to give her a brief break. But he was eager to start hurting her again.
Getting off usually gave him this rush of soft warmth towards the woman he was fucking. This last time, pinning Cadence to the ground, her wrists bound, fucking her throat brutally, he hadn't felt warmth, but fire.Victory, rage, and the electric desire to bring her that low again, and again, and again.
He wasn't sure how careful he could be, anymore.
Somehow, knowing he had already lost made the next precious few hours swell with terrible potential. If he couldn't have her - if she was really so determined to fight him, to defy the truth every woman he had taken before her had eventually come to know - then there was no reason to pretend her pleasure was anything more than a tool in making her pain even worse.
She would get another reprieve. That was the first step to getting inside her head again. Gathering up his tools to soothe some of her discomfort, David climbed back up the stairs, planning his next step. This was so different from taking women who wanted it.
Like Laura. He would strike her and instead of crying out, she would beg for more. She simpered and worshiped under his hand the moment he signaled the start of that dynamic, following the rules to a tee, rarely requiring the kind of brutal, harsh punishment he really wanted to dole out. Within their established rules, she was a perfect submissive. Almost too perfect. In some ways, as much as it frustrated him, he relished Cadence's continued defiance and disobedience. He hadn't really believed she was going to let him fuck her cunt, despite her offer. He wondered if he would really be able to get her to ask for it, and mean it, by tomorrow. Maybe it would be better if she didn't.
He unlocked and opened the closet door.
She was still in her cage, curled up on the floor, her wrists raised in the air where they were secured to the bars. Her back was facing his, the heels of her small, pink feet pulled up to the cute curve of her ass. Her knees dangled open awkwardly, as if she couldn't stand the slightest touch on her beaten thighs or overstimulated pussy. She looked silly, but mostly, she just looked pathetic. He felt a tiny pang of guilt. He walked over to the desk, setting down the washcloth, icepack, and water. Then, he walked over to her cage.
"Cadence," he said, working to keep his tone even but soft. "Sit up. Show me your face. It's time for us to talk."
Her muscles tensed when she recognized his voice. Slowly, she worked herself into a crouching position, seeming determined to make the movement as graceful and fluid as possible. When she met his eyes, he saw that she was angry. He smirked, and she lowered her gaze, drawing his eyes to the tear tracks that had cleaned away his come while he was gone.
The sight filled him with renewed hope. Crying while alone and utterly degraded was a different experience than crying as a direct result of physical pain. This was a victory, albeit a small one - and an empty one. He hadn't wanted to push her to such a dark place emotionally, not this soon. But she fought him so hard. The sadist in him relished in her struggle, hoped she wouldn't give in until he had license to do some truly despicable, crushing things to her.
But he was a person, too, and a part of him felt a little remorse for her inner turmoil. Just a little.
He lifted her face and traced the tear tracks with his finger, enjoying the way it made her shiver. "Looks like someone learned their lesson."
Her lip curled, her eyes tightening. She jerked her chin back from his face, putting as much distance between them as she could. He chuckled, feeling a swell of vindictive pleasure. There was some fight left in her after all. She was so much stronger than he had expected her to be. Her iron will only made breaking her down that much more satisfying.
"Maybe not," he said, his tone light. He went to collect the things he would soothe her with. He left the icepack for now, approaching her cage with the washcloth and water in hand. He unlocked the cage.
"Come closer, let me help you." He knelt down, watching her struggle to close the short distance between her and the bars. She wasn't very good at moving around on her knees. He'd have to make her practice more. "Which first?"
She chose the washcloth, of course. He smiled, beckoning her forward, gently taking her face in his hand. He worked carefully, making sure every last remnant of dried come was wiped away. He watched her the whole time, reading the minute expressions he knew she was hardly even aware of making. On the surface, her pretty features were a hard mask of stone, unaffected by his kindness. He mirrored this, pressing his lips together tight, keeping his eyes distant.
But he knew how to read people, and he saw the truth beneath her stoicism. It was fascinating, the way he could be so mean to her, so utterly cruel and indifferent, even glorying in her suffering - and yet, the moment he relented, showed her even small acts of sweetness, she softened. She trusted him, just a little more. She didn't want to, she actively resisted it, but something inside of her couldn't help it.
David didn't really buy into the idea of "true submissives" or "natural dominants". He figured everyone found their way to kink by their own path, and that path was rarely traceable or set in stone. He had always enjoyed dominating people - frankly, he knew he was kind of an asshole, even outside of his sex life. He had experienced fantasies of controlling or coercing others since before he was even sexual. Yet some people who were the most enthusiastic about this lifestyle had never suspected they'd experience dominant or submissive urges, and discovered it entirely on accident.
Cadence had just discovered it by accident
and
unwillingly.
That made this all sweeter, somehow. He suspected that, even without his interference, Cadence would have eventually experimented with control and bondage. He doubted she would have gone this far this quickly, of course - but that was half the fun for him, pushing someone so innocent into depravity so quickly. It was a delight to discover that Cadence enjoyed it far more than he expected, and that she struggled against that enjoyment so much. He wondered if he could make her accept it by tomorrow. He had to tread lightly. She was innocent and inexperienced, and her young body could only take so much torment.
There were other, more insidious ways to get under someone's skin than physical torture, anyway. David liked to consider that his specialty. By the end of the afternoon, he would know everything there was to know about Cadence - and she would learn some new things about herself, too, if she was lucky.
When David was finished cleaning her face - mindful of being especially gentle with her red, aching cheek - he wordlessly picked up the cup of water and presented to her. He watched as she accepted the straw, feeling a rush of warmth for her. Controlling her was intoxicating. Seeing her give up control to him was downright addictive. When she finished drinking, she sat back on her heels, and he smirked. For a moment she was gazing at him with gratefulness and something akin to affection.
