This is hard to believe. I can't believe I allowed him to take control. And to make matters worse, we nearly crossed a line! I can still feel him, barely inside me, not fully consuming my core. How did this happen? I genuinely don't know. It felt so good that I lost all sense of myself. I submitted to him willingly, and he savored that submission. I despise it, truly. Yet, a part of me enjoyed it—the way he dominated me and made me lose my grip on reality, if only for a moment.
Still sprawled on the bed, I slowly sat up and surveyed the bedroom.
I need to drink some water.
I left the bedroom and made my way to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, grabbed a glass of cold water, and took a sip.
Suddenly, a loud noise startled me!
My head turned sharply toward the direction of my garden. What was that? A wave of suspicion washed over me; could it be the killer?
"No, it can't be..." I whispered as I set the empty glass on the countertop and cautiously approached the sound.
My heartbeat quickened. Every instinct told me to flee, yet my body moved toward the noise as if guided by an unseen force.
I reached out to touch the curtains of the window. Taking a few deep breaths to steady myself, I quickly pushed the curtains aside to see what was in my garden.
To my fear, I spotted a creature.
It was a small black cat.
Relief washed over me, and I closed the curtains again. Placing my hand on my chest, I felt my heartbeat start to calm. That man had terrified me, and I was grateful it was just a cat—a surprisingly cute one, at that.
"It was just a cat... Thank heavens." I smiled, relieved it wasn't the killer. If he had been here, I'd be in serious trouble.
"Thank heavens indeed, right, Little flower~"
I was startled, my eyes widening as I spun around to confront him. I swung my fist, but he blocked it effortlessly, his grip tightening around my knuckles. I could hear him clicking his tongue in amusement, his expression hidden behind his fox mask.
But why is he here? Why now? This is frustrating. He shouldn't be intruding on my life. I long for a normal, peaceful existence, yet he keeps shattering that hope.
"What are you doing here?!" I shouted at him, trying to push his hand away, but he merely stepped closer, blocking my path to escape, his towering form overshadowing me like a mountain.
He knows I want to get away. This monster.
"Why am I here? Am I not allowed?" His mocking tone irritated me as if I were in the wrong.
"Yes! This is my house, and I own it! You need to leave!" I glared at him, pointing toward the door, urging him to exit. He tilted his fox mask, staring at me intently as if processing my words before laughing softly. His hand brushed against my shoulder.
"You don't understand, do you, Little flower?" My eyes narrowed in confusion at his words.
What does he mean?
"You belong to me, Little flower. Body, mind, and soul." His grip on my shoulder tightened, making me wince in pain. "And when you belong to me, that includes this house. I can come and go as I please." He whispered seductively.
I gritted my teeth, filled with anger and fear. I wanted to push his hand away, but I knew that would only intensify the pain.
"You don't own me! I am not an object! I was never yours!" I protested, standing my ground. He chuckled deeply, his amusement causing his nails to dig into my skin, prompting a whimper of pain to escape me.
"You've been mine from the start, Little flower. The moment you captivated me, you became ensnared in my web." He leaned in closer, whispering chillingly in my ear. "And I plan to claim you again until there's nothing left but shredded petals."
With that, he crashed his lips onto mine with force, causing me pain. I struggled to push him away, but he lifted me effortlessly, and my legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. I could hear him chuckling against my lips as our tongues entwined in a dance of power and submission.
He propelled both of us onto the bed, positioning me beneath him as he loomed above. He reluctantly broke the kiss, staring down at me through the slits of his fox mask. I couldn't discern his expression, but I knew what his gaze conveyed: the look of a predator who had finally secured its prey.
"What are you planning to do next?" I asked, a tremor of anticipation in my voice.
Why wasn't I resisting? Had I finally realized how incredibly intense this man could make our encounter right now? Or perhaps, my desire had simply overwhelmed me.
His silence caused my heart to flutter with both dread and excitement. His hand slowly dipped into his pocket. My eyes tracked his every small movement, and I heard a deep chuckle escape him, clearly amused by my reaction.
"Don't worry, Little flower. Just a reminder of my claim on you, once more," he said calmly, then withdrew his hand from his pocket, revealing a butterfly knife.
The sight of the blade made my body tremble with fear, my eyes widening in shock, and a rush of dark thoughts flooded my mind. I twisted and punched, desperate to escape, but he swiftly pinned his full weight over my lap, making any flight impossible.
"NO! NO! LET ME GO! YOU'RE MANIACAL! HELP! AHHH!" I screamed in terror, my skin turning pale, sweat beading and running down my forehead. His free hand easily seized my wrists and drove them to the headboard, holding them fast.
"Shh... shh... I won't use this on you..." he murmured, placing the butterfly knife carefully beside me and running his fingers gently along my chin. "Yet," he added, and that single word sent shivers down my entire body. "Now, undo my belt, Little flower," he ordered in a firm, commanding tone.
My body flinched, and I hesitated for a moment. "I'll release your hands, but remember... I have a butterfly knife here." His words were a clear threat: if I dared defy him, death would be my consequence. I felt his grip loosen on my wrists, and he immediately moved to grasp the knife tightly.
I bit my lip and slowly reached for his pants, my fingers visibly shaking.
"Good girl," he said with satisfaction and amusement. His masked gaze seemed to penetrate my entire being. I unbuckled his belt, which made a soft click, and placed it on the bed next to me.
"Go to hell..." I hissed in anger, yet we both knew I was helpless but to obey. He held every advantage. He was skilled in combat, and I was not.
He tilted his head curiously, then shook it, a low, rumbling chuckle vibrating through his chest.
"Oh yes, Little flower. We'll both soon get the taste of that 'hell' you wish for," he replied.
My face flushed at his explicit words. My fingers pulled his zipper down, and I slid his pants off him, exposing his black boxers where his erection was prominently visible. I glanced away briefly to regain my composure, then looked back up at him.
"Well done," he complimented me, then pushed me down once more to lie flat. He removed my shirt, revealing my red bra.
"Sexy, but this needs to go," he said in a low, soothing tone. My body involuntarily shivered. "What do you mean by—" My words were cut short when he gripped the butterfly knife and sliced straight through the center of my bra, separating the fabric and exposing my breasts fully to his view. I felt my nipples instantly harden in response to the tension.
"You are perfection," he exhaled huskily, then leaned down, seizing one of my engorged nipples. Before I could fully process the action, he was already feeding.
"Oh god!" I moaned in a mix of surprise and pure pleasure. His movements became bolder with every passing second. His hand slid down my stomach, reached my underwear, slipped past the edge, and began rubbing my clitoris, causing me to arch my back, my sounds growing louder.
"Oh, Little flower..." he growled, fueled by raw need and dominance. His hand slid out of my underwear and went to his mouth; he tasted his finger, sampling my moisture.
"You fucking taste exquisite. And I am an impatient man, baby," he whispered in a raspy tone, then slid his boxers away. His cock sprang out freely, standing tall and proud, ready to take what was his.
"Ah! Wa-wait!" I gasped in surprise. This was happening too quickly, but he gave me no time to process what was next; his hand forced my legs wide, and before I could react, he claimed me in one rough, jarring plunge. His hips slammed into mine. My eyes were wide with intense pleasure as our cries mingled when we finally became one.
"Mhmm, you're so wonderfully tight..." he hummed, utterly satisfied.
He then accelerated into a feral, relentless rhythm, the bed loudly protesting beneath us. The room became a symphony of my desperate moans and his deep groans of delight. One hand roamed over my body, savoring and committing my every curve and hollow to memory, while his other hand kept a firm grip on the butterfly knife.
"Ah! Oh god! Ah! Yes!" I cried out in pure ecstasy, my face contorted with sensation. His fox mask remained fixed on me, watching and drinking in every one of my reactions.
He further increased his pace, driving rougher and deeper, creating loud, echoing sounds of skin colliding, and the bed groaned faster and harder, threatening to splinter. The pleasure became overwhelming; I could feel my stomach clenching and turning over, nearing the edge of climax. I could hear his own ragged breaths and feel his body tensing in anticipation.
My moans soon escalated into screams as my hands instinctively grabbed his back, my nails digging in, lacerating his skin, leaving marks. He responded with a groan that mixed pain and pleasure, a direct acknowledgment of my action.
"Yes, yes... I will claim you over and over, Little flower..." he breathed out heavily, then carefully aligned the butterfly knife against my stomach, the sharp edge pressing against my skin. My eyes flew open in absolute horror.
"What are you going to do?!" I shrieked, the terror oddly intertwined with my pleasure. He pulled his core out of me, then thrusted back inside my center with such force that my eyes rolled back.
"I told you I would claim you, even though you are already mine, Little flower," he hissed with dominance and pleasure, then dug the knife into my skin. I screamed in pain as blood immediately trickled down my stomach.
"God, you look so perfect like this... Red suits you best, babe," he groaned, relentlessly pleasuring and tormenting my core with his rhythm. Screams of pain and moans of pleasure echoed throughout the room, and the tension became thick and suffocating.
He began to inscribe on my skin with the knife, and the searing agony made me screech, tears streaming down my face. I wanted to fight him, but I couldn't. The flood of sensation—pleasure and pain—made it impossible to think or act coherently.
I had no idea what he was carving onto my skin, but the pain was hellish.
"Ah! Stop! Stop! It hurts!" I arched my back, screaming in a desperate blend of torment and bliss.
"Remember this, Little flower. Remember this moment. This mark I leave on you," he commanded with authority and possession, his member sliding out, then back in with a powerful plunge into my wet entrance. My body and face flushed crimson from the overwhelming, confusing emotions that consumed me. My fingers shook as they tightened and scored his back.
"You."
Thrust.
"Are."
Thrust.
"Mine."
Thrust.
Suddenly, the sensation became too intense to bear; moans and screams filled the room as we both shattered, reaching our climax. His essence spilled deep inside my core while mine flowed richly around his member.
"Ha... Ha..." he panted, riding out the last waves of our release. After a few moments, he withdrew from me. His fox mask stared down at my satisfied, yet distressed and bleeding form. Without a single word, he dressed quickly and exited the bedroom, leaving my house and abandoning me on the bed, bleeding. Once I heard the sound of his departure and realized I was truly alone again, I began to sob.
Wiping away my tears, I slowly managed to sit up, groaning from the pain. I could feel my entire body trembling and aching. I looked down at my stomach, soaked with the blood from his inscription, but I couldn't make out what he had written. Curious, I forced myself toward the mirror, my legs shaking, but I stayed upright. Blood dripped onto the floor with every step until I reached the mirror.
When my reflection came into view, my eyes widened in sheer horror.
My breath caught as I finally processed the word carved into my stomach.
'Owned.'
The realization was so overwhelming that I collapsed onto the floor, crying loudly. Why was my life this way? What had I done to deserve this kind of treatment? I despised this existence.
I hated everything.