This is not sweet reluctance, this is creepy, dark, non-con, and a work of pure fiction.
*
"Isn't this nice?" asked Ronald.
"Yes, Joe," replied Louise, hoping she had chosen the proper way to address him this time. He kept changing his demands in that area.
'Joe' moved below her. Louise fought an urge to cringe. They were cuddling. Pretending to cuddle at least. She lay with her cheek on his chest, her legs between his, and he was holding her tenderly.
Louise was struggling to keep her fear-fueled nausea at bay and her breathing calm.
Today is Sunday. Last day is Sunday. Weekends ends with Sundays.
One way or another an end was approaching.
Saturday morning, her wrists had been swollen. 'Joe' had taken off her handcuffs and had bandaged her wrists and hands. Since then, the bandages had become the primary bondage for her wrists. Right then, her bandages were bandaged to each other.
'Joe' ran a hand up and down her upper arm. Louise felt a tear building and concentrated to withhold it.
This was the fifth time they did 'cuddling'. Louise was counting Joe's activities. During the weekend, Joe had threatened her with the knife thrice. He had bathed her twice. He had scolded her for harming her wrists seven times. He had raped her uncountable times. He had played "If you don't come, I won't beat you" twice. He had...
The second time 'Joe' had played "If you don't come, I won't beat you", Louise's body had been drained and hadn't responded to his touch. At first she had been glad for that. By then, she had already felt like one big bruise, and the prospect to pass on even one beating had looked good.
Joe had taken her passivity with good humour. "Does this mean I've already satisfied you thoroughly?" he had asked with a grin on his face. The grin had passed, however, as his continued efforts had dried her out, instead of lubricating her.
With growing fear, Louise had watched his face, while he had continually increased his efforts at pulling some kind of response from her body. Over half an hour, Joe's face had contorted into a constant grimace of frustrated anger, Louise had been afraid that if she didn't come, he would snap.
Louise was fairly sure that Joe snapping would be very, very bad for her, so she had faked it. Well, she had tried to fake it.
That had been a mistake.
Louise tried to push all thoughts of what had happened next aside. Every activity seemed to have its own rules, and right then they were doing cuddling. When they were cuddling, 'Joe' didn't want her to shiver with fear.
This really does feel good,
thought Ronald, enjoying the warmth of Lowish's body against his, even enjoying her weight on his stomach.
Maybe I should get a girlfriend. I can afford a high maintenance woman. Shouldn't be hard to find one that won't complain about affairs and long work hours.
This was Sunday. Louise had been with 'Joe' since Friday evening. She had learned several things over the weekend, most of them about 'Joe'. Like 'Joe's different ways of being angry.
There was 'pretend angry', like when she had orgasmed the first time 'Joe' had played "If you don't come, I won't beat you." 'Joe' was a good actor, he really was. If he hadn't already been playing with her mind uncountable times prior to that game, Louise would have believed him to really be angry.
His anger had been pretend then, but her fear had been real, as had the beating. 'Joe' really liked using the belt on her.
When 'Joe' pretended to be angry, Louise was scared because she knew pain was coming. But 'Joe' pretending to be angry was not half as terrifying as 'Joe' actually being angry.
It's Sunday,
thought Louise, but tried not to. She still wasn't sure what the end would be.
The end had almost come Saturday evening, though, when 'Joe' had caught her faking that orgasm.
Some things he wants me to fake,
Louise reminded herself, still struggling to hold back that same tear.
Some things he wants me to fake, some things he doesn't.
Louise had closed her eyes while faking it, so she hadn't seen his expression change.
"What the fuck was that?" he had asked.
"I'm sorry," she had lied, "I tried to hold it back. Please don't beat me. I'm sorry."
"Did you really think I would fall for that?" he had asked. His voice had been... "Did you really fucking think I would fucking fall for that," he had screamed at her, flipping her to her stomach. Then he had let the belt talk.
'Joe' hadn't been pretend angry then, he had been real angry.
Louise had screamed with terror and pain under the assault. But, it hadn't lasted long. Compared to the other lickings he had served, he only gave her half a beating.
He lost his temper,
thought Louise.
That was what it was, he lost his temper.
The whipping had ceased and 'Joe' had crawled onto her back. Without a word he had spun the belt around her neck and had tightened it till she couldn't breathe at all.
She had struggled. Of course she had struggled. But, it hadn't made a difference. None at all. She had panicked. That hadn't made a difference either.
He had made no sound apart from his own breathing. The last sound Louise had heard, had been 'Joe's laboured breathing. Laboured from anger. Laboured from exertion.
She had thought she was dying.
After I passed out, he must have decided not to kill me after all,
thought Louise. The tear escaped her eye, rolled across her nose, and dropped to 'Joe's chest. Louise's breathing halted.
Please don't notice that. Please don't.
Cuddling was a frightening activity. While it lasted, it was harmless, a pause from the continued abuse. But, Louise had learned something about cuddling from the first four times. She had learned that 'Joe' really enjoyed it. Woe to anyone who would dare ruin the moment. Anyone, being her.
'Joe' didn't respond to the single tear, nor to the second and third, which Louise couldn't stop either.
This has been the best hunt ever,
thought Ronald.
It really has.
He was still trying to pinpoint exactly what made the difference. All he could say for sure was that it was something about Lowish.
I've been limiting myself too much for too long, going for specific types. Variety is a blessing.
He moved his hand from Lowish's upper arm to one of her breasts.
It has been a great weekend.
Blood surged to his cock as Ronald remembered how hoarse Lowish had sounded during her most recent orgasm and how wet and hypersensitive she had been afterwards. He had fucked her then, and she had whimpered slightly at his every stroke in.
That was one of the things he liked about Lowish, he guessed. She often responded to threats and force as his normal lovers responded to praise and soft caresses.
Her breast was soft under his fingers. He ran his fingertips across her nipple. It was puffy and soft. With one fingertip he circled the areola enjoying the change in feel as Lowish's nipple slowly hardened for him.
Sunday afternoon and her body still talks,
thought Ronald, smiling contentedly.
Lowish wasn't as responsive as she had been, of course. Covered with blue and purple bruises, she looked as worn as any of his victims did, come Sunday. She was exhausted, physically and mentally. Yet, she hadn't gone completely zombie on him.
Usually, around this time on the last day of the hunt, Ronald was bored with his prey. Usually at this stage, his prey would be in very tight bondage for easy fucks in between his preparations to round off the hunt.
With Lowish it was different. He was trying out new things with Lowish. Things like cuddling. He hadn't been unfamiliar with cuddling, many random lovers had managed to squeeze him into a cuddling position after sex, but cuddling on a hunt was new to him.
Absentmindedly, Ronald kept caressing Lowish's nipple, while thinking about the pleasures of the weekend. His cock grew to full size against Lowish's hip. He moved slightly giving his cock the extra space it needed.
I need to start preparing soon,
thought Ronald.
I've got a lot of work ahead of me cleaning this place.
As usual, he had been thorough about which surfaces to touch, and which not. There would be fingerprints in the cabin after he left --depending how good the cleaning lady working on this place was. But, there wouldn't be any of Ronald's.
He didn't feel like preparing, however, he didn't feel like ending the weekend at all.
When did I last take a real vacation? Something longer than a hunt?
The nipple he was toying, had gone puffy again, unresponsive.
If only I could give Lowish a good eight hours rest, then I think her body would be ready to really fire up for me again.
Ronald sighed. In eight hours he needed to be on his way. At least that was the plan.
What's the point of being rich and in charge, if you can't take some extra time off?
