Domestication: Maing a Wife

Welcome back, dear audience, for the moderately delayed (and hopefully much anticipated) second chapter of Domestication. As always, comments and constructive criticism are welcome and encouraged. Now for the disclaimers. This story features content with dubious consent at most (and probably some offensive language). Rape is wrong. Don't do it. Everyone knows this. If you don't enjoy stories with this kind of content, don't read them and don't whine about them in the comments. All characters who engage in sexual conduct are of age. Now, on with the show.

***

The world around Raquel shook as she stumbled towards consciousness, her eyes blinded by the harsh light of day from the moment they opened. At first she thought an earthquake had woken her, the prospect prompting her to clutch wildly at the bedding around her in an instinctive effort to latch on to something stable. That did little to steady her, though, and a moment later she abandoned the attempt, her attention stolen away by a fierce throbbing in her head. Instead she groaned and rolled her head to the other side, trying to blink away the light in her eyes even as the tremors rocking her body conspired with the pounding inside her skull to rob her of all strength.

The beleaguered student let out another groan, louder than the first, mentally kicking herself for the binge she must have gone on the night before. She couldn't remember the last time she had suffered through such a brutal hangover... though... that fact honestly didn't say all that much considering in the moment she could scarcely even remember the night which had caused her current ordeal. There had been... a restaurant? A date? But... why was her body so sore? And why did it feel like someone had shoved a telephone pole halfway up her snatch? It was all so very fuzzy, and every time her sluggish mind tried to seize hold of the memories they slipped through her grasp like so many grains of sand.

Raquel tried to escape the evil light assaulting her eyes by rolling over to bury her face in pillows, but her body stubbornly refused to cooperate. A halfhearted flop came up short when her hip collided with something firm and warm and... kinda soft... and... moving? By that point the rocking motion that had awoken her was more a source of confusion than one of concern, even her lagging brain could tell it was too regular, too rhythmic to be caused by any sort of disaster, so she released her grip of the bedsheets and pulled in one arm to shield her face as she squinted up at... Connor Hathaway?

What the FUUUUCCCKKK?

"Morning, sleepyhead," greeted the gigantic smirking asshole above her. Why in every hell humanity had ever dreamed up was that utter bastard in her bed? It was a mystery all the alcohol in the world couldn't even begin to explain, but she had no time to start piecing the puzzle together before he cheerfully continued on. "Hope you don't mind me getting started without you," his voice was entirely too smug to deal with in her current condition, and since when was he so chipper?

"What?" she mumbled, blinking her eyes a few times as she tried to clear her head. "What're you..." it was then that the hungover young woman froze, flashes of the night before finally starting to surface in her memory. A fancy car... a fancy meal... Ellie waiting tables, fighting back tears as she did. And then... coming home... with... oh no. No no no no no no...

Raquel's head rose slightly, her eyes going wide as she gazed down the length of her body. The blankets she normally slept under were nowhere to be seen, leaving nothing to spare her the view of what was happening between her wide spread legs. In their absence she could perfectly make out every lurid detail of how Connor was fucking her; the way his hips smacked against her ass with each thrust of the cock he was burying ever deeper inside of her, how his hands wrapped tight around her thighs to pull them apart and grant himself access, even the porcupine of short bristly hairs around his shaft that she had finally noticed scratching at her sensitive flesh.

It couldn't be happening... it just... couldn't...

"Get... get off..." she mumbled, her booze-sodden brain and paste-dry mouth struggling to work in tandem.

"Ha, what do you think I'm working on, babe?" he chuckled. His voice was like a cat in a bath scrabbling its claws on a chalkboard and... ugh it just made her head hurt.

"That's... not... can't..." she sputtered, lifting one hand to push feebly at his chest.

"Wow, you are such a lightweight," he chided. "Probably don't even remember half the fun we had last night."

Fun? No. She wouldn't have... would never have... but Connor's words drew out more memories from the slowly fading fog. Of herself writhing under the oppressive weight of a man's body. Of herself quivering helplessly as she was fucked and spanked. Of herself climaxing again and again while he explored every inch of her body. Even just the memory of the orgasms she had endured was enough to make her womanhood tremble around Connor's shaft, a tribute to the pleasure it had gifted her the night before.

A defeated whimper escaped the young student's lips as she let her head fall back to rest on her pillows. Connor Hathaway was fucking her. Connor Hathaway. Was fucking her. And not for the first time. She wanted to either curl up and die or just start running, but lacked the will to do either. With her body weak and aching, her head relentlessly throbbing, there was little she could do except lay back and... enjoy it. Because as much as she struggled with the thought, she knew she would. In all her life Raquel had never felt any attraction to a male before, at least not that she recognized as such. Her first time laying with a man, though, had been an undeniable experience. Whether it ever happened again or not, she would spend the rest of her life comparing the soft tongue and gentle touches of Ellie or any other sapphic lover she embraced to the rough handling she had endured at Connor's mercy.

"Attagirl," her conqueror praised as she let her body go limp, one of his hands rubbing up and down her thigh like she was a beloved pet. "Don't fight it. You know you love this cock." Raquel just blushed and turned away, knowing any attempt to refute him would be immediately apparent as the lie it was. By chance her eyes fell on her alarm clock, the bright red numbers there calling out to her.

9:22

For several seconds the dark-haired student was transfixed by those numbers, struggling to process why they seemed off. Then it hit her. It was a weekday and she had slept far too late. Distracted as she was by everything that had happened between her and Connor, she must have forgotten to set her alarm the night before. More than two hours had already passed since the time she would normally have awoken meaning the first of her Monday classes would have already wrapped up and if she didn't get moving quickly she would be at risk of missing the second as well.

Her motivation to get out from under Connor abruptly renewed, Raquel tried to roll away. With one hand she pushed feebly at his chest, but it did no good. He was too heavy and she was too weak. "I can't... late for class..." she managed, finally starting to find her voice.

The spoiled scion fucking her just let out a harsh laugh, though, and she knew without having to look that he was rolling his eyes. "A few less classes won't hurt you, girl."

The scorn in his voice made clear Connor had no intention of abandoning his fun, but Raquel wasn't about to let an ass like him keep her from class. Some people actually had to work for their success. The second time she tried to roll away Raquel actually managed to pull herself most of the way out from under her unwanted bedmate, the maneuver drawing his cock out of her slick pussy with an embarrassing squelch. Flipping over onto her front she started to crawl to the edge of her bed, wishing that doing so didn't display her tight young ass quite so prominently. Unfortunately the sudden motion set her head throbbing once more, the hangover she was nursing reasserting itself with a vengeance.

The time it took Raquel to stop and shake her head (a rather foolish way to clear the headache, she quickly and regrettably realized) was all Connor needed to catch her. His hand grabbed at her ankle, gripping much too tight for comfort as he pulled her back towards him. "Stop, Connor... I have to go." She complained, glancing back over her shoulder to plead her case. His attention was focused elsewhere, though, only one hand holding her in place while he leaned off the other edge of the bed and reached for something on the floor.

"I think not," with his head out of sight the words were oddly muffled, but a moment later Connor straightened up and turned his full attention towards his prey. "This lesson is far more important for you." A look of pure terror dawned on Raquel's face at the sight of what dangled from his hand, a reaction that only seemed to fuel his excitement.

The wide-eyed beauty instinctively turned away to shield her face and tried to scramble out of reach from that fearsome instrument. She remembered all too well what a man could do with his belt. One of her mother's last boyfriends, back when her daughters were just little girls, had been an angry, bitter man. When he drank, and he drank often, what little self control the brute possessed would vanish and he would look for any excuse to vent his fury on Raquel and her sisters.

Some nights their mother had been able to shield the girls, luring Vincent into her bedroom and drawing his attention to herself. Those nights Raquel and her sisters would quietly huddle together and try to ignore the sounds coming from within the locked chamber. Other nights, though, she hadn't been there, busy at work, already asleep, or too drunk herself to intervene. On those nights the man of the house had punished even the slightest infraction of his many rules with his own brand of brutal discipline.

Eventually, the scumbag had gotten himself arrested for some meaningless barfight in which he lost control and put another man in the hospital. The girls never saw him again after that, only hearing a year or so after the fact that he had been killed in a prison yard scrap. More than a decade had passed since those days, but it would take far longer than that to forget the "lessons" Vinnie meted out with fist and belt.

A single mighty tug was all it took for Connor to undo Raquel's feeble attempt at escape, though, and then once more a man was looming over her, belt in hand. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned away, knowing full well she had neither the training nor the raw strength to fight him off. Seconds passed, though, and the rain of blows never came. Cocooned in darkness, the young beauty didn't realize what was really happening until too late. Her eyes flew open at the touch of cool leather pressing against her neck, but already her partner was pulling the end of his belt through its buckle to complete the loop.

"Someone has certainly done a number on you, I see." Connor's voice was still merry and Raquel wanted nothing more than to smack him for making light of her reaction, but she didn't dare. Instead her hands flew to her neck, tugging experimentally at his belt. "Don't worry, I don't get my kicks beating on girls. I much prefer an opponent who can fight back. As you can see, though, a belt has more than one use in bed." The bastard punctuated his declaration with a quick tug on the makeshift leash he had fitted around her neck. Raquel went bug-eyed as the motion drew the smooth leather tight around her throat, forcing her to gasp for breath.

"Now, be a good girl and show me that tight little ass I had so much fun wrecking last night, why don't you? It'll all be over so much quicker if you play along." The dark-haired student blushed, both from his uncomfortably accurate assessment of the night before and the knowledge that he was right. If she did as she was told, Connor would finish up and hopefully let her go on her way. If she resisted... well, if she resisted she would fail, he would have his way with her regardless, and then he would probably insist on a second round just to spite her. Knowing that, her best option was clear.

With just the slightest hesitation, Raquel rolled from her side onto her belly and lifted her hips, presenting her taut rear as instructed. She didn't know what to say, didn't trust herself to speak, instead just burying her face in the sheets and trying to pretend she was anywhere else. That illusion lasted all of a second before Connor's hand was all over her ass, reacquainting himself with its youthful curves. "There you go," he mocked "now was that so hard?" She fought down the urge to kick him, instead shifting her hips apart when his hand drifted from her ass to her crotch.

While it wasn't nearly as unpleasant as the hangover she was nursing, the dark-haired girl couldn't help but notice a dull ache that radiated out from her cunt. Many details of their encounter the night before remained a mystery to her, perhaps always would, but one thing that was abundantly clear was that the little pocket between her legs had seen some very heavy use. As Connor lined himself up to enter it once more she wondered whether she would even be able to walk without pain by the time he was finally satisfied.

It was only when she felt the crown of his cock once more slipping past her entrance that Raquel realized he wasn't wearing a condom. Again. She may have fallen far in the past 24 hours, but there were still lines she wasn't willing to cross. Pushing herself up onto all fours meant driving her ass back against the man riding her, but that couldn't be helped. Lifting her face out of the sheets and turning to look over her shoulder, she started to tell him off. "Con..."

A split second after she opened her mouth to speak Raquel felt Connor's belt tighten around her neck. Her pussy clenched fiercely around his shaft and her eyes went wide, the quick tug pulling her head backwards. One of her hands flew to her throat, but the leather was too tight against her skin for her fingers to find purchase. "Good girls speak when spoken to, little dyke." His voice was still cheery, but also firmly authoritative. Their eyes met and almost as abruptly as it had tightened she felt the leather around her neck loosen again as he let the lead fall slack.

"You..." She tried again, but once more Connor cut her off with a pull on the makeshift leash, hard enough to make her rear up like a horse. The way she writhed and pushed back while struggling for breath made him grunt in pleasure as he was pulled further into her body. He kept up the pressure a little longer the second time before letting her breathe again, just long enough for Raquel's instinctive panic to pass and be replaced by genuine fear. When he let up she fell onto all fours panting.

Turning to glare daggers at him over her shoulder, the fiery-eyed beauty opened her mouth once more to spit out a curse at her abuser. "Fu..." It went the same as before, her impromptu leash tightening around her throat before she could get out so much as a single word.

"Tsk, tsk," Connor clicked his tongue, shaking his head slightly. "And here I thought it was supposed to be the smart girls who made it to college." The disappointed scion let his toy's punishment linger that time, one hand resting firmly on her back for leverage while his other tugged mercilessly at her leash. Deprived of breath, Raquel operated on pure instinct. Both hands flew to her throat to scrabble at the belt while she sputtered for air long enough that the edges of her vision began to blur.

In her panicked state it felt like she had been choking for an hour before Connor finally let up and allowed her to crash forward onto the bed. The pitiful student's perky breasts heaved as she gasped, rushing to refill the drained lungs beneath. She was so distracted she barely noticed him giving his cock a few languid pumps in her pussy while she recovered. Eventually, though, she found enough strength to turn and once more glare back at him over her shoulder. Silently.

"Decided you'd like to breathe, sweetie?" he asked innocently, as if they were debating menu options in a cozy cafe.

Raquel struggled to swallow her pride, fury contorting her face as her eyes locked onto Connor's in a silent contest of wills. But when she finally opened her mouth, only one word came out. "Yes."

"That's 'yes, sir'." he corrected. His voice was still light, but he gave just the slightest tug on the end of the belt. Not enough to rob her of air again, just enough to let her know he wasn't asking.

"Yes..." the raven-haired beauty almost choked on his demand. She couldn't remember the last time she had referred to anyone as 'sir'. Being made to do so in any situation was condescending, and patronizing, and degrading, and just entirely unacceptable. Having to do so in bed... would let her keep breathing. With that knowledge in mind she forced herself to grind out the second half. "...sir."

"Good girl," Connor smirked. Raquel was sure she had felt his cock twitch inside her when she finally gave in. "And the guys all said you couldn't be tamed." She had to bite back a retort, more than a little anger burning in her gut. It was hardly news to her that men gossiped about pretty girls behind their backs, their dicks were all they ever thought with after all. It was also no secret many of the guys they both knew fancied her, she had caught more than a few stealing looks from time to time when they thought she wasn't paying attention. But she had thought most of her fellow musicians respected her enough not to talk about her in such a manner. Apparently she had given them too much credit.

It was to her dubious luck, though, that Connor was done talking. The leashed tigress didn't care to test how many taunts she could weather without biting back, not when finding the answer would only mean being choked again. So she was relieved when he went silent instead and began to ride her in earnest. It was a surprise when he settled into a languid pace, his length moving in and out of her without any sense of real urgency, but not an unwelcome one. With how sore she already felt down below the kind of reckless abandon he had demonstrated the night before may well have left her cunt aching as much as her head.

That appreciation was only enhanced by the fact that being casually deprived of breath for however long had done no favours for Raquel's hangover. As Connor got to work between her legs she let her head hang as low as the makeshift leash would allow and closed her eyes, trying to force the throbbing in her brain to go away by sheer force of will. The effort was wasted, naturally, but at least it was something for her to focus her attention on other than the shame of letting a bastard like Connor so thoroughly dominate her. With her eyes closed and nothing to listen to save Connor's occasional grunts, her own stifled moans, and the slick sound of their bodies joining, the dark-haired student let herself fall into something of a trance, the unwanted encounter dissolving into meaningless monotony.

"I guess you don't care about those precious classes after all if you're just going to lay there and take it, babe. I could go all day like this." Her partner's voice eventually jarred Raquel from her state. She opened her eyes, letting them glance over at her alarm. It read 9:39 in bold, red digits.

The harried student grimaced when she realized he wasn't entirely wrong. She had barely half an hour before her next class was due to start and it was one she really couldn't afford to miss, not with exams coming up and a grade right on the brink. Considering her partial scholarship would be forfeited if she failed to meet stringent academic standards, failing was not an option. No scholarship meant no college, no college meant a life spent waiting tables or some such hell, and her mother's fate was not going to be her own. That meant if Connor had as little urgency as he would have her believe it would fall to Raquel to... accelerate matters.