Author's note:
Hey, this is my first time finishing and posting a story. I was kind of unsure of the direction I wanted to take it in the beginning so it might seem a little jumbled. I plan on continuing it in the future (with a more coherent direction) so I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think!
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Mark woke up, struggling to open his eyes and looked around the room. His mind still a little foggy, the realization of not knowing where he is slowly crept up. Panic started building up inside him, his first instinct was to pick himself up from the bed, whose owner was unknown to him. His plan was foiled however, by a sharp tug at his wrists. His hands were bound behind his head, the ache in his shoulders now setting in. He must have been bound here for some time, he thought. Trying a few more times, he was beginning to figure out the effort was futile, putting the force of his whole body into it this time, the only result was more strain on his already weakened arms. He was bound tight, the rope chafing his skin, but not cutting into his skin so far as he could tell. Deciding to stop uselessly exerting more force, he rather looked around, examining the place he was trapped in.
First looking down, he found his legs were bound to the lower end of the bed, making movement to look around much harder. Turning his head to the right, the stiffness in his neck became apparent, complementing his already aching arms and legs. He definitely spent the night here. Little rays of sunshine peeking through the almost completely covered window helped him figure out there was daylight outside, he could only guess at the time though. Apart from this, however, the room was almost completely dark, making his investigation of the room a lot harder. There was something that stuck out, appearing in a small burst of light right next to his - no, the bed. The object jogged a memory, tugging at his brain, making him remember something about last night or at least some night. They were handcuffs, hard metallic ones, not like the softer material that bound his hands. What was it about them? Being the only object sticking out to him at the moment he strained his eyes, examining them further. He saw what seemed a bit of rust beginning to form on them. No, not rust...
A sudden burst of light accompanied by a loud sound of the door opening on his left side made him turn that way, but he closed his eyes immediately.
"Hello darling, I see you woke up already." The voice was familiar. A soft girly voice, making him feel comfort and dread at the same time.
Who are you, he wanted to say, but couldn't. Why? Another wave of panic started to come upon him. Why can't he speak? His tongue felt like lead in his mouth as he tried to move it. Struggling to open his eyes, making some sense of this situation, he fought against the light trying to shut them back down. If only I could see her he thought and that was his sole focus for now. Starting to see an outline of a person he began to regain some hope.
"The drugs are starting to wear off I see. Too bad, I was hoping we could have some more fun, baby. All good things come to an end sooner or later though, right?"
Her voice, those words, that tone. Lighthearted and playful yet dangerous and exciting all at once. A new flood of memories came back to him, this time clear and strong. He remembered now, at least he remembered her. But that was enough. She was enough. Enough to shatter any shred of hope he had regained. He could see more clearly now, her face cementing his fears for good.
"Hope you haven't forgotten me already, sugar. I know guys like you tend to forget us gals quite easily. Not me though, I'll make sure you remember me forever."
Oh god, why does it have to be her? He saw her walking closer, trying to scream but not managing even a squeak, pulling his hand and legs as hard as possible to try and break free. Everything hurt but the pain seemed distant now, something he would worry about another time. Now, everything was focusing on him escaping this hell, escaping her. But nothing helped, she was only getting closer.
"Oh don't be scared, baby. I'm not ready for you yet you see, so you can rest easy for now."
She sat next to him, putting a hand on his cheek. He recoiled as far as he could but she didn't like that. She pressed the hand against his neck, her expression twisted in anger, face to face with him now. How can someone so scary be so beautiful at the same time?
"That's how you're gonna be, huh? Alright then, I guess you need some more lessons."
The dark red gloss, emboldening her full lips always stuck out to him. It complimented her pale skin and green eyes so well. But the thing that got him the most was her flame bright red hair. He was mesmerized by her, the sharp pain that started spreading across his cheek started doing something to him.
She slapped him. Hard enough to break past the dullness induced by the drugs. Hard enough to really hurt. She wanted that, and she enjoyed it very much. The hand that was clasped around his neck started squeezing tighter. She wanted to choke him, she wanted to choke him so badly. Her fingernails started to dig into his skin, drops of his blood streaking down her nails, fitting the color of her nail polish.
It was exciting her. Everything was exciting her. The pained expression on his face, his soft whimpers, his struggle to breathe. It made her so wet, she couldn't control herself.
She straddled him, easing off the pressure on his neck, rubbing her pussy on his crotch, the soft fabric of her panties brushing against her. She wanted him, but she wanted him in her own way. She pressed her left hand on his neck again, this time only enough to grip, not squeeze. Her right hand slapped him across the face again, harder this time. But it wasn't enough. She did it again. Harder. Again. Harder. Her palm was as bright red as his face, but she didn't care. The pain she was causing him excited her more and more. It was intoxicating, she couldn't get enough of it. She was grinding against him so hard now, she thought her panties would tear. She squeezed him tighter, slapped him again, and felt something poking at her between her legs.
She stopped suddenly, put both her hands on his neck and squeezed. There it was again, no denying it. She started laughing, kept lightly grinding against him, put one hand behind his head, the other caressing his cheek lightly, sensitive from all the pain it endured so far.
She put her lips next to his ear, close enough for him to feel her hot breath against it and whispered.
