Work Text:
Smack!
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.
"It's-time-to-learn-what-happens-to-sluts-who-run."
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.
His breath tickled your ear as he spoke.
"You-are-mine," hissed Feitan.