Sorry about the wait, pretty much everything here has been redrawn twice or more trying to get it right. Planning on reducing the scope on the next one. Chapters 7 and 8 are mostly written, the slow update speed is entirely on my side of things.
As a warning, this chapter has significant violence. Notably more than those previous.
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De-Programmed
Part 6
Part 6
After the endurance session she was now aware of a nagging feeling, like something was off. More so, something in her was off. Her thoughts were a consistent fog of uncompressed nonsense. Wandering in directions ever so subtly but enough so that without a bit of solitary meditation, which Edwin’s constant presence made difficult to do, she couldn’t focus. Yet still she persisted.
\tAfter thinking it over for several hours, struggling to mentally heft herself through a cohesive train of thought there came an idea that perhaps she was most certainly not thinking clearly. That the toys and tools which he plied against her were far too effective based on her personal experience. She was too receptive, too easily confused and cowed by him. That there must be something which is affecting her behavior to make her act like this.
\tPerhaps a device that was attached to her somehow. Despite how strange it sounded, to her distorted perceptions it seemed to make sense. However after a quick inspection of her limited attire she came to the decision that in all likelihood it couldn’t be that. Her next thought was that it could be chemical, maybe there was a form of gas which he pumped into the room. However she dismissed this after realizing that it would put him at risk of exposure since she never remembered him wearing a mask to filter such a substance.
\tA few hours working over where she could be given consistent doses of something without her noticing. The easiest source to cut out as well as to slip it in would be her water, at least she thought. So she could attempt to secretly dispose of the water he would bring her and refill it from the sink when she was confident he was not committing himself to a degree of direct oversight. This is what she was able to reason through in her semi conscious state from what she could only assume was weeks of dosing.
\tAfter the first two days passed, nothing seemed too significantly different which started to affect her outlook. Eventually a subtle shift was perceptible, as his demeaning training continued. While it felt different it most certainly wasn’t just a switch. The intensity being reduced was a blessing enough that it didn’t exhaust her nor come close to the mind melting delirium it reduced her to previously. It was difficult to gauge how much it affected her mind really due to the fact that even without the theorized narcotic the tools he used were seemingly designed to exploit biological weaknesses she wasn’t even aware of.
\tOn Top of this was the continued submission to his desires which grated on her. However even if this just stopped her body from being so sensitive, it would be all the more worth it. As it was unfortunately increasing her physical perceptions. Meaning that the pain he inflicted as punishment was also debilitating, she would have no real chance to resist if a mere sprain felt like a fracture. So she played along with the continued endurance and speech training. Not wanting to change anything, still giving it a bit of her consistent resistance, yet not too much, lest he produce the stick instead of carrot.
\tThen came a night of consistent headaches making sleep a chore till she awoke the next morning, tired, grumpy, but clear. Something she barely noticed until now was how dull her body felt. The sensitivity that made her so easy for him to toy with her gone. Along with the relief of her mind being unshackled from the medicinal handicap which was inflicted upon her was also a rush of cognitive clarity. With this sudden flow of erudite apprehension were the makings of a plan, an idea, a hope.
\tThe concept seemed distant when her mind was so weighed down with comforting torpor. Yet now it seemed possible, a mad smile cracked across her lips as she indulged in her cognisance for but a moment. As she realized that deviations in behavior that were too drastic would likely arouse suspicion.
\tNow came the harder part. How to act like she was a sexual lightweight sensitive to her “master's” touch. As well as maintain the seeming behavior, which while she found humiliating, would be necessary in order to assure there wouldn’t be some strange alteration to the already intense security measures her captor had gone through in order to keep her here. She could imagine a few things he could do if he was concerned about behavioral changes, but she was also sure that he probably already had some creative ideas and tools to use against her anyway. For now she just needed to play the part and look for an opening. Which might be a great deal easier now with her clearer head.
\tThe first day was the worst, though not because of any action that Edwin actually took against her but more so, Liana herself having to temper her own pride. Simply more speech training; in which she allowed herself the luxury of resistance, but in limited bursts as his tools were still designed to still elicit significant sexual stimulation even without the aphrodisiac. In another world she could almost appreciate the stimulation were it not being dispensed in such a manner that demeaned her so. The violation of herself was not worth this pleasure. She worked to get where she was, and she would work her way out of this.
\tThe speech training moved to a mix of some of the others, combining aspects of her being bound, but not affixed to her bed or the cell wall like usual. Instead just mummified in leathery cushioned bondage gear while she simply was held by Edwin. She talked with him still using honorifics, but he also still had that damned shock collar on her the whole time. Making it so any attempt to harm him in this state would more than likely result in a much more extreme punishment.
However this meant in a way it was working. He was a little less cautious now as she started to act more subservient. At least this was the first time he was in her cell within reach without having her completely restrained.To her this was progress, as she supposed it was progress for him to. Still his touch was infuriating, yet she swallowed the feeling for now. For now she just needed to play along till he let his guard down. Till she saw a way out.
\t
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\tLiana wasn’t quite sure if he was testing her or if perhaps he knew and was trying to push her to break her act. Every day he expanded the routine to be a bit more exotic, as he produced new tools to humiliate and toy with her. Though she was able to at least notice he seemed to make time for her around the same time of day. As long as she spoke with the proper language, allowed him to touch her, and obeyed the majority of his requests his presence could have almost been considered compassionate; at least in comparison to his actions prior to now.
However as he felt he had more control he started to pressure her into much more depraved acts: Leaving an assortment of toys and demanding she use them on herself while he watched. Bringing in a camera to film her and demanding she not cover herself or turn away while doing so. Putting on sets of erotic clothing that was labeled things like Slut, Fucktoy, Slave or some other derogatory term. Most recently putting on a labeled blindfold with “Edwin’s Property” written on it, then navigating the cell nude for various toys and using them for his enjoyment, while responding with the appropriate tone and of course honorifics.
Overall it was horrible, she believed that without this plot to escape she would indeed be driven mad by his constant escalation even in the light of her cooperation. At least it was escalating to her. For the most part she made it through by focusing on her task, looking for patterns, and finding a way out. The abuse made it difficult but in her mind she tackled it like any issue she normally would have. Putting aside her emotions to come out on top like she always did; through this opportunity would crystallize.
Indeed it did, at least in her mind, as she noticed that every other day or so he would personally see to her health and cleanliness. Binding her down then unbinding her collar or other restrictive attire to assure that she was in good health before personally cleaning her and applying a new set of degrading attire. She had started to discern a pattern over the last week since she was off the drug, every 3 days he would commit this ritual. Meaning that today would be the 9th day since she had stopped ingesting the drug making it a perfect time to surprise him and grab the keys.
She never saw the keys he used as her head was always held in place and he seemed to store them out of her limited eyesight when tied down. However he had to have them on him today. She just had to wait, wait for him to present an opportunity. If she could get him down then she could get the keys and get out; she could win.
First she would need to get him in the cell, and she couldn’t just wait for him to come in for cleaning since he binds her to the bed anyway. She thought back through all the times he had come to her, thought back to the day he chained her to the cell wall with the winch, and then when he was done simply let her slump forward into unconsciousness. If she could feign the unconsciousness perhaps that would give her an opportunity to knock him out to attain victory. She thought back to the day he captured her, in a raw test of strength he would likely overpower her. Granted he had the drop on her, however she still could recollect his might
Then she thought of it, the chain, if she could get the chain around his throat she could choke him out. Even better if she could tangle up his limbs but she couldn’t focus too much on that. The easiest way to avoid getting hit or taken down would be to jump on him from behind. Even if she were to somehow stop the use of his arms it wouldn’t mean he couldn’t just use his bodyweight to slam her around or crush her. With her best estimates her chances didn’t seem viable, however that seemed to be the point. At every step he didn’t seem to give her any real opportunities. He thought this very thoroughly, perhaps she was not the first. Had it not felt so hopeless there might have been some flattery in the effort employed in her capture. Still, while it was hard, it was not impossible.
She didn’t like her chances but she also didn’t know how much time she had to work with, or if he already knew she was pretending and was preparing something much worse. No, she couldn’t think like that, she had to focus. Focus on what would be her way out, based on the pattern she had an opportunity, an opening, and she was going to take it. She would feign unconsciousness, ambush, incapacitate him and free herself. The question of killing him would have to come down to the moment itself.
She had grown to be wary of indulging such outbursts of emotion. She was not intent on caressing such a dire barrier between murder and morality. However she reckoned that she would do whatever it took to escape, to perhaps aim not to kill would be a mistake. Thus she resolved to do anything, as long as it yielded success.
The schedule wasn’t always the same but she had been able to predict a pattern of some sort. Soon he would visit and her plan could be set in motion, she could commit to this; she had to.
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Edwin entered her prison just as any other day with a confident mechanical stride that almost made her wonder if he was more machine than mortal. She however did not rouse at her “owners” presence as what was expected over the last few days.
“Up. We have more to work on today.”
She debated refusal, contemplating the significance of torment that would be levied against her based on her previous experiences. Refusing to talk merely brought silence, but could include greater punishment as it is a step back now. Insulting him was a bitter shock, however simply resisting his physical touch was what pushed him to bind and overstimulate her before. She chose to get up, but slowly, putting her best effort into acting lethargic, not that an act was entirely needed as her body ached all over.
Her slow rise seemed to extract a subtle scowl from her captor before questioning.
“Something stopping you from getting up?”
Once she had completed the waking ritual of prying the warmth of her covers off and rolling towards the edge of the bed. Standing upright in the cool air of the basement she was trapped in. Then feeling the harsh cold of the concrete on the soles of her feet. The lack of any real clothing covering her made the environment worse than it actually was. She wished she had her winter coat.
“No... sir. Just very tired.”
The depth of his scowl lengthened which she assumed was due to her strange pause. Then he stepped closer to the cell where he leaned within a few feet, squinting trying to appraise her status. She wondered what she looked like as there was no mirror in the cell. Her messy hair now having grown a bit since her capture, her ruffled fur coat, of course she could take showers however that seemed to be the limit. She started stretching while he seemed to take his time assessing her.
Now that the time had come she had to step carefully, think through what would be the most likely to get him to take the steps she wanted. Little rebellions at first, make it believable, you’re exhausted and resistant now, lacking the energy to obey.
“Today we are going to combine some previous exercises…” He produced some chains with clasps just like he had any day he would enter the cell. Of course he did it while he was outside first, cowardice perhaps.
“Your hands please.”
She simply held her arms over the bed up for him as he clasped the leathery wristbands that were already there together. Then taking her hands up into the air above the bed he clasped the chain between them to the hook over the bed forcing her to step up onto the bed. To which now he reached down and clasped her anklets together with another chain. Once she was firmly restricted he seemed more confident, turning to move into the cage with more bondage tools in his hands, leathery bands, chains, and clasps.
“Aside from simply making sure you understand that your body belongs to me. I want you to maintain a conversation with me; regardless of the content of what we talk about.”
While not something she would enjoy, the exercise was perfect for her plans. She would merely resist in particular areas to try to get him to focus on them specifically. If she was mostly obedient perhaps it would result in that...what did he call it, the carrot? The day he decided to put those diodes in her. She turned away and grit her teeth, steeling herself as he fiddled with the key unlocking the cell. Taking a deep breath as he stepped up to the bed and stood on the mattress with her reaching up to the riveted crossbar on the ceiling, unlocking it with one of his keys that held the chain in place, releasing slack from the device so she could lay down on the bed instead of awkwardly standing.
Locking that in place he moved on, lifting her up and placing his back against the cell wall finally setting her down on his lap. He tied off her waistband to the frame of the top of the bunk making sure she couldn’t flail her upper body excessively. While she was parallel to the bed, her back to the headboard and ankles clasped to the footboard. He was perpendicular to her, her right shoulder against his chest as his left arm reached around her back to help support her. Her butt firmly planted on his groin, not physically uncomfortable but most certainly not a position she appreciated being in.
Thankfully he was clothed. Despite everything at least he didn’t insist on being nude himself humiliating her further by having his genitals directly touching her. The first day was more than enough of his cock then she would want for several lifetimes. Strangely enough she didn’t feel much of an erection, perhaps all this was some exercise for him to get it up. It tickled her to imagine that this was an eccentric cure to some kind of erectile dysfunction.
Her mind was jolted out of her resentful ruminations by his sudden touch of her body. Starting with her face as he brushed aside her hair, now a half-inch longer since her capture.
“Do you feel that you have been pushed too hard Liana?” Liana did want to pull away, to not let him caress her cheek, to play the romantic instead of the rapist. However she couldn’t lose it too early.
“Honestly I could use some less exhausting training….” she paused again for a moment, waiting for his hand to stop.
“Sir.”
He looked her over, with a rather inquisitive intensity, she swallowed hoping she didn’t push it too far already. Till he continued down to her chin and over her collar to her chest. At the same time he leaned in to nuzzle her neck which she tensed against trying to stymie a violent urge to shudder in repulsive bitterness.
“I can understand that, however I still wish to see your real limits. You seem to be able to handle this, don't you agree?”
His hand started to move down between her breasts first, his left arm beginning to move up and down massaging her back as she leaned on it. Finally as he started to fondle her left breast she closed her eyes but forced out a response.
“I.. I can sir.”
Augh! How context dictated what felt good. Without the clouding intoxication of the drug he had been slipping to her this felt so much worse. Now fully aware of her disdain, her revulsion made her sick to her stomach that this vile madman was transgressing against her. Yet still, her emotions were not her ruler, she was. She would not let her ruin this for herself, not yet. Taking another deep breath she pushed down on her feelings.
“You are doing very well. It’s rather impressive, your progress recently has surprised me. Well aside from a few slip-ups, but we can move past that with a bit more…” He squeezed her breast letting with his thumb and index finger pinching her nipple rather ruthlessly, she could feel the tips of his claws scraping against her.
“Intense education.”
She grit her teeth letting a grimace come over her face before hissing out a reply. “Ye… Yes sir.”
With her response he finally loosened his grip which also made her unconsciously release the breath she was holding in from the experience.
“You have come far. Such a ruthless bitch at work and now look at you. So supplicant you almost are like a real woman.”
Oh! Ohhhh! How she could feel the fury bubbling within. At this point he seemed to purposefully be trying to get a rise out of her. To find a reason, push her to break. Mother fucker! It would not be so goddamn easy this time. Not without your shitty little handicap would she so easily be coaxed into harm regardless of her pride.
“D… D-Do you r-really have to say it like that…” another deep breath, focus. Brushing aside everything else she maintained her focus. Centering herself on the gravity of the situation. Holding on to her plan.
“Sir?”
He continued down her body, and she prepared herself. Still remembering the weeks of him toying with her, the abuse. She would transgress once he hand found purchase in her most sensitive area. There would be the counter attack. There would be her mutiny.
His profane caress continued southward over the elastic straps that criss crossed her abdomen. His palm stroked the fur over her midriff with a parasocial sensuality. Liana turned her head away to hide the fact she was biting down on her lip. Perhaps he would have thought it was some erotic signalling, in reality she was distracting herself letting her fang dig into her flesh. Averting her desire to shudder in revulsion; hoping that her hair would not stand on end. The tools she had developed over a decade of vicious corporate politics were useful. However she still had difficulty restraining herself in such a vile situation.
“Of course I do. You are bearing the mantle of your nature. Submitting as you always should have.”
Liana didn’t realize how much she had tensed her body until she felt a strange taste in her mouth. Through the fury she had bitten through her lip leaking a warm flow of blood trickled from her wound letting her taste its metallic tang. Completely unaware of her pain in the vibrant flash of indignation. Out of instinct to hide the wound as well as care for it she sucked the part of her lip into her mouth. Not wanting to hint at the wound's origin. She then realized she had to speak.
“I… I would prefer, sir, if you would not be so… reductive.”
She choked back her blooming wrath pressing at the base of her throat. Casting a momentary prayer to- she supposed, the universe- that she succeeded in cleansing the caustic ire which she desired to slather over her words. A bitter vitriol begged to get out, but she knew, not even he believed what he was saying. It was all to toy with her, prod her. Make it a game. Her days of supplication might be causing him to attempt more drastic acts of desecration.
He continued down over her thighs, to which she started to squirm. Noticing this he seemed to pause, raising his brow he gauged her response. Seeing her posture turning away from him. Her sucking on her lip, she didn’t know if he started to piece anything together through his mechanical deadpan. Unsure if he was suspicious or simply trying to get a read on her.
He plunged his hand between her legs. Her trap was sprung as she reacted bucking in his lap suddenly causing him to be pushed up against the bars. With a devious smile he audibly chuffed at her action. Redoubling his efforts as she squirmed again.
“There it is!”
She couldn’t stop him from penetrating, worming his way between her thighs. It was profane tantalization which turned her stomach. Still her emotions toppled before her, she would not be conquered by mere instinct. After he was inside she squealed, shuddering in a way that she hoped he would identify as some impulsive reaction.
“Th… there what is?” Her words stammered through her blush, though she supposed that some of the reddening was involuntary anger. Antipathy pulsed through her blood, she still grasped back control quelling any sensation that dared betray her as she rode upon the tarot of the chariot. Letting her continue to act like the meek prey. “S-sir”
His posture deflated a bit as he continued to finger her. Toying with what he found. She was not able to stop the natural bodily responses, despite the organs between her thighs informing her of the pleasurable sensations she had to disagree. Shunting the sensations from her mind as best she could. She instead allowed herself to exaggerate the whimpering twitches, demonstrating a modicum of discomfort. Keep his attention on her behavior, focus on throttling the line between disobedience and supplication. Easy in theory, but difficult to accomplish. As he moved to the next step, a new intruder slithered dryly into her rectum.
She was an individual that had never truly lowered herself to indulge in any such profane hedonism. Thus her captors presence there while she was fully conscious was a transgression of such magnitude it caused to actually arch her back trying to lift her whole body up and away from him to get his hand out. It was lucky that he caught on quickly. Purely for the fact that if she caused him harm, the punishment would be much more grievous than what was dispensed over simple resistance.
This time he was not as amused, though when he forced her back down into his lap she could now feel him becoming erect. Laying his cards out on the table regardless of his intention. What an unsavory individual, only able to truly appreciate beauty through abuse. Another reason to despise such a brutish cur as her captor. Only gentlemanly in presentation yet having none truly in his character.
“There IT is. You have been hiding how you really feel for days, it’s nice to know you are still in there.”
Of course she had never left, yet this was beside the point. The snarky ridicule she would normally conjure didn’t even really have the opportunity to solidify as his transgressive assault escalated; yet more of his odius digits squirmed into her to the point where she had to instead inhibit the more violent responses her body seemed to be urging her towards. There was once a time in her professional environment she was asked to look at anger management therapy. This cumulative experience had accomplished more than the classes ever did as a murderous fury surged with cataclysmic force from within her depths of her character.
“SooOooo-OO.. so you preE-efeeer Disob-E-edience!?” She had to speak through clenched teeth hissing out speech the steaming gout of a boiling teapot. Closing her eyes to focus on her words. She turned back to biting her lip, dragging herself from the involuntary. Digging into the small wound already sent a shock through her nerves helping retain clarity, which she used to determine that allowing a lapse of honorifics he demanded from her. There was a momentary pause at least till he shoved the whole of his fingers in digging around viciously trying to excavate a response. Here she decided, there would not be one. It didn’t take long, he seemed to have a very limited grace period for such an infraction.
He pulled his hand from inside her while he unceremoniously dumped her back onto the cot while he stood up and stepped over her onto the concrete below. At first she acted confused, not entirely sure of her success or failure. Now she hung by the bar at the ceiling of the cage while he turned towards the exit. Now she would play the supplicant.
“What… what is wrong, sir?” His ears twitched, as though there was a modicum of delight in such a title. She would not again dilute her pride with the humiliation of again referring to him with a title such as master again. However sir was something she was familiar with even outside this concrete perdition. Thus it made sense that he would prefer her dispense such an appellation. While she was repulsed, a chill sickness now bubbled in her gullet, yet it was effective as the gesture it seemed to get his attention. He began opening the cell door, yet speaking. Apparently she didn’t warrant eye contact.
“Well, it seems there are still gaps in your behavior. Aspects that still require adjustment. I am merely going to retrieve the tools necessary to assist with further education. Then we will again attempt to acclimate you to the sensations that caused your lapse in judgment.”
He opened the cage door, still leaving her a half bound, a hanging harlot, over a now subtly dampened bedsheet. She had to make an effort to not let herself dirty her tail upon the sullied cloth, while not something so unsavory, she wished to avoid any more unwanted annoyances. Regardless of her mental state the device was likely to still be effective. She was not looking forward to this.
“What did I do? Sir? I…”
He opened the cage door, stepping out and closing it behind him.
“Your lack of appropriate honorifics when conversing with your betters. Regardless of your mental state, if you can speak you can apply the appropriate epithet.”
Despite her inescapable position he still locked it as well. A force of habit, which made sense based on his demeanor. He had all the time in the world to toy with her, no rush, do things in order; Step A through Z as in all things he did. He Stepped around to the side of the cage, with the bars between them, standing up on a stool to unbind her hands from the adjustable bar on the ceiling letting her fall to the bed. Damp in some spots against her bare fur and flesh.
“Unbind the carabiner on your ankles and move towards the winch.”
She closed her eyes knowing that this was the deciding moment. Liana wondered if there was any way she could further tilt the scales. To assure that the desired tools were used or at least something adjacent in potency so her feigned unconsciousness would be believable. After ruminating for a moment she aired towards aggression in this state.
“So just more touching, sir?” She wondered how much he really enjoyed every time she placed that title onto his shoulders. As though it was another meritorious sigil stamped upon his chest. Oh she fantasized what titles the media would dispense upon him in his capture. She allowed herself this delightful imagery as she unclasped her ankles from the chain around the bedframe and stepped towards the rear of the cage.
“No, nothing so simple. Just a tool that has been used before. Something to acclimate you to erotic stimuli.” Goood. Regardless of which tool it was she was delighted to know that her plan was a success. Had she had the time to congratulate herself appropriately she would enjoy a series of delightful cocktails to celebrate her genius. Still though she must continue the act, something she still felt a tangible fear over. She had to steel herself for the coming events, as if it was a tool designed to elicit pleasure, to extract a response from her. She would have to smother that impulse to retain her sanity, yet still present the image of weakness.
Taking her place against the cell wall she turned to him as he finished placing the tools of her torment out on the workbench in an ordered fashion. Then briskly walking to the side of the cell with the winch rapidly turning it till it was taut pulling her against the cell wall.
“Raise your hands against the bars over your head.” A simple request that she complied with; to which he responded with a more complex action of clamping her hands to the bar, then un-clasping her hands from the chain one at a time. Oh so very careful Edwin, such a stickler for these little details. Once that task was done, he moved to the chest harness, then her ankles. Finally finishing he gave some slack on the winch allowing her neck a minimal amount of freedom to pull a few inches from the bars.
Once she was secured against the cage he walked back to the workbench to collect her selected punishment up in a small pack. Placing it on the bed through the bars of the cell he reached into his pocket to extract the keys. Letting his feet clack against the concrete, his ominous gait which she had memorized by now. He walked around the cell and approached the cell door. Liana took a set of deep breaths fading back into character letting herself be immersed in faux helplessness.
The key ring jingled as he unlocked the door taking a step inside before locking it behind him. If she wanted out she would have to completely incapacitate him. There was no real way she could just unlock the collar itself by fiddling with that ring of keys. There was a twinge of despair as she contemplated that he might not have the key with him that unlocks the collar which would completely nullify the escape attempt. She brushed it aside, as far as she had come with this attempt she didn’t feel backing out now would be viable. While she had never personally seen the key that unlocked the collar, it appeared to be like the key ring he currently had.
Stepping over to the bed he unravelled the wrap he rolled the toys in allowing her to get a better view of what exactly she had sentenced herself to. A variety of vibrators, batteries and chords. Likely going to be a variation of the endurance training she had undergone days ago, which seemed relevant to her resistance. Stifling a sigh of relief recognizing the tools as the knot of anxiety dropped from her chest. It wasn’t that strange electrical… diode, did he call it? Not like it mattered what it was called, even without the drug she was not exactly confident in her ability to resist something which so directly stimulated her nerves.
He selected a number of his tools along with the vibrators and batteries attached to them, then knelt down in front of her. As he went to work, she squirmed at his touch at first which prompted him to stop for a moment turning back to the bed. As he reached for the remote she tensed.
“I’m sorry. I’ll be still sir! Don’t!”
He stopped, turning to look up at her eyes with his signature stoicism. He slowly dropped his arm from what she assumed was the remote for her collar, and then resumed. She did live up to her word, however difficult it was as he continued to force things inside of her with thick plugs to help keep them in and then strapping over them. Invasive as it was humiliating, Liana steeled herself against the roiling tumult the emotional revolt within her.
Her relief flowed from her lungs in a heavy sigh as he finally finished strapping the last of the toys inside her. Placing the batteries in a strap along her thigh highs similar as to every day before. The sensation of having such oblong objects forced inside her was not alien to her, merely the aspect of having another individual she so despised consistently subject her to it could not have possibly built up more resentment.
She didn’t quite know what he expected, how this was all supposed to make her change her mind or something. He perused the remaining objects in the cloth coming to a remote where he held down the power button.
It was a ‘shock’ to say the least. As the variety of sex toy’s all activating at once was as debilitating as the electricity from her collar. Erotic sensations rammed into her mind suddenly causing her to flinch momentarily. As she grit her teeth she eventually settled into a squirming shudder as again her body heat started to rise in tandem with her heart rate.
Her captor appraised his work as she allowed herself to express the intensity of the sensations in her bound writhing. Appeased with the outcome he rolled up the cloth before turning back to the cell door. Given the current circumstances Liana could not be more happy that she had purged the toxic narcotic from her system. Contemplating the potency of her current torment while still on such a substance made her shudder with a visceral disgust, a sensation she grabbed onto as it helped the onslaught of stimuli run off the surface of her mind.
This was the best she could do, now she had to hold. Endure.
He exited the cage going to store many of his remaining tools back where he found them before heading to the door of the basement. It was difficult to think clearly at the same time as resisting the constant droning of sexual stimulus. However she still felt she should voice something to him as he left, despite being impaired she chanced a query.
“H… How l-l-loong? S-S-sirrr….” her voice shuddered with the vibrations in her body combined with her combative squirming.
He glanced at her over his shoulder with a smirk, while she couldn’t identify the exact reasoning behind it she still had to swallow the desire to audibly wretch at his degrading leer.
“Because of your good behavior, four hours, or until you are unconscious. I haven’t decided.” The cruel rictus he had donned disturbed her enough to look away. Hearing the door close she supposed that he was pleased with her response despite how it his visage caused her stomach to turn. A feeling that was all the more assisting in ignoring the siege of arousal against her psyche. She turned her mind from the sexual stimulation instead focusing on her anger, disgust, and loathing. Holding on to prepare herself for what would assuredly be an exhausting few hours.
******************************************Hours later**********************************************
Hanging limply against her bindings was far from comfortable however she determined that if four hours have not passed than it was e-fucking-nough as it was. While she wasn’t as drained as her act portrayed she most certainly wasn’t far off. She just hoped that hanging as a limp corpse was identifiable from the surveillance equipment she knew he had to have on her. Not a few minutes into this act did she hear the door open, and the true test came.
She heard the familiar clacking of his footsteps along with the sound of him opening a drawer. Not entirely sure of his intentions she made an educated guess based on his previous depth of paranoia . She hoped that her bangs hid the fact that she clenched her jaw in anticipation till the upcoming event.
A subtle click was all she heard as the array of vibrators within her were turned to full power. She assumed that her captor was scanning to see if she really was no longer conscious with his signature caution. She grit her teeth, grasping with as much restraint as possible to resist the involuntary spasms from the sudden burst in stimulation. The vibration stopped shortly after she couldn’t help the subtle trembling that came over her body. The pressure of the situation twisted up her anxiety into a sickening lump in her throat.
The drawer closed as his footsteps neared, hearing him step up behind her there was a slow, eerie scraping of metal as she felt slack in the chain connecting her collar. After which his footsteps started to orbit around the outside of the cell on her right. Her eyes closed, she took slow, deliberate breaths. Culling her fear as best she could as doubts writhed within her blood with every heartbeat.
The jingling of the keys rattled against the cell door as a gentle click noted the lock unhinging letting him enter. It was difficult to locate it all, the involuntary tension across her body building up faster than she could focus on them to relax. Her teeth clenched, joints locked, heart pounding. If he did come in contact with her like this it wouldn’t last long. More deep breaths, more focus, more mettle.
Another set of steps as the door creaked open, then creaked shut again. He turned to lock it as the keys rattled yet again. Finally he approached her.
She shut down, letting go, something she had learned before through the cutthroat aspects of her life prior to her capture. There are points in life where you have to just fade away, to subject yourself to the little death in order to sell what you want to your target. A tactic among many she was forced to adopt, and one she summoned now as his hands came upon her.
He touched her, grabbing at her ankles as he knelt down, unclasping the chains from the cell wall to let her down. She was empty, in this moment there was finally serenity as her purpose was elucidated. When she was free from as many bonds as possible, she would strike. With the reality of her opponent's presence she submerged into her focus. A way to take back her life in beating him, a way out from all this.
He moved onto her wrists shortly after, putting all the pressure of her hanging body on the abdominal harness. Her body leaned forward, her limbs now freely hanging brushing against him with their sweat soaked fur. It was calming now, she was focused, ready. Her target set and her goals aligned. Success was all that was perceived as the opposite could not! Would not cloud her actions.
He reached around behind her, as if to hug her as he grasped the clasp between the abdominal harness and the cage. As soon as it came unhooked she felt herself fall forward. He seemed to be expecting the weight in his kneeling position as she fell slightly off center towards his left shoulder. Though he wouldn’t be expecting this.
She slammed her hands down on his shoulders as she fell forward, springing her claws into them to hold her grip. As his head reeled back up and to the right in surprise. She jolted upward with her knee trying to catch him in straight on but instead blasting into his left jaw causing him to further fall backward. She pushed off his shoulders intending to fall behind him till she felt him grab at her legs. Her claws scraping against her target's wrist caused him to momentarily lose grip as she rolled behind him.
Unfortunately the chain was still attached as she felt the gentle tug of it unspooling with her pull and falling to the floor beneath her. The ovular chunks of metal biting at her shoulder blade as she rolled over it on the concrete floor. But she was behind him as she jolted up to see him grabbing at the chain, starting to turn towards her. She jumped forward, whipping the chain as she grabbed it in her left hand causing the wave to ripple down the surface and strike across the side of his face. Not really landing a good hit as he turned away just as the wave splashed against his cheek. He leaned back causing her to crash into him with her shoulder.
He seemed to use the momentum, pushing him forward and helping him stand back up. She jumped up on his back, locking her legs around him and grabbing at the chain in her right hand trying to wrap it around his throat. His own right arm already reached up for the slack over his left shoulder blocking the attempt but she pulled as hard as she could, leaning back into it forcing his right arm against his chest as he roared out. His left arm came around to elbow her in the side, not finding direct purchase because of the angle but catching her off guard for a moment as his left hand reached up from there to grab at her head.
She saw it coming and tried to block with her own arm but too late as he grasped a clump of her hair and pulled wrenching her forward and to the left away from his neck.. He spun clockwise, causing the chain to unwind from the direction of the winch. Pulling the slack with her right hand after he grasped her head. She bit down into his shoulder digging in with a bitter scream as the burning sting of her scalp caused her eyes to water. Pulling on the excess slack with her right arm to keep his right arm stuck to his chest he finished spinning around as he slammed her against the cell wall. She couldn’t pull away now that he had her head as she reached up with her left arm digging into his own ripping into it with her claws causing blood to spill down his forearm and onto both of them.
He slammed her again, much harder. She felt the air blast from her diaphragm with the last hit knocking the wind out of her. She struggled to keep focus as her body began to rebel. She reached up for his hand digging into between his fingers causing his grip to weaken. She pulled away again as he leaned back once more now caught between the concussive force of both the wall and his back slapping her between them. Her legs wobbled between gasps for air as she couldn’t keep herself held on. As he pulled away again she slipped off his back, the chain going taunt as he fell backward, tightening around both of them. the weight of both their bodies tugged at the collar on her throat, choking her.
She slammed down ass first, against the angled floor of the shower, a deep crimson mixing with sweat and tears that tumbled down the drain. Edwin tried to stand. She tried to pull on the chain to keep him off balance but he slipped out as she did so. Kicking at him as she gasped for air she tried to get back up as well till she saw him dash forward at her, still half hunched over. She held up her legs that caught onto his shoulders slowing him down as he forced them apart. His own claws digging into the fish nets as he climbed up her body.
Defiantly swinging with what strength she had left he blocked her clawed slap with one hand and grabbed at her hand with the other, digging further in with his own tearing holes in her body, bypassing her furred exterior entirely. She would not give up trying to bring her knees together and hit him in the side as he loomed over her. Her arms now both in his grasp she tried to bite at him as he locked her arms to one of the chains used to bind her feet from before. She tried to pull in her legs enough to kick him away, but he was inside the minimum distance she could bring her knees to.
After she had completely lost the use of her hands, now attached to the clasp meant for her anklets. His hands came down suddenly and without mercy as they wrapped around her collared throat, the entire force of his body leaning down on her, crushing her windpipe even through the leathery reinforcement crumpled under his weight. Finally he locked eyes with her.
Behind his eyes she no longer saw the man that had tormented her these past few weeks. Buried beneath an ocean of veins as his eyes reddened towards the cornea all that remained was a violent slit screaming a malignant gout of fury from the window of his soul. No more was there a machine like nature to his gaze. Her captor was now lost, submerged in a vortex of violence. She no longer contended with a man, but a beast. Some violent abscess roused from stygian gates wielding a cudgel of sexual fury. This was not punishment, it was brutality. His body tensed into a primordial mass of muscular savagery further distancing his presence from the calculating individual from before. She was going to die to this beast, the pitiless organism which had replaced the mortal she despised was something she could not bring herself to hate, only fear. Her composure was engulfed by utter terror, her mind racked by shock at the visage of barbarism which glared down at her.
Bound by the chain and unable to escape his adrenaline filled fury she felt the light start to go out from his suffocating onslaught. Kicking, flailing, reduced herself to a screeching animal as rasped cries passed from her lips like the ephemeral fragments of her spirit leaving her in these last moments. Till suddenly his pupils dilated, only just barely. His grip around the collar diminished, the murderous pressure relenting as his body began to tremble. Was he sparing her, her fear still the only tangible element in her mind it was impossible to tell his motives as she gasped for air curling back from his presence. He tied the chain around her arms to the cage. His body trembling, jolting through the motions it seemed as he struggled to contain himself.
Finally reaching back down to her she instinctively kicked which he responded with a violent slamming of her leg against the concrete of the floor. She felt him hold back at the last second, resisting the urge and sparing her any real harm. However the message was clear, further resistance could have agonizing consequences. For the first time since she arrived she truly yielded to him, as he reached out with churlish savagery and grasped her thighs, baring his manhood against her. He stared her down as she looked away, closing her eyes hiding from his vision. She could feel it though, like a predator appraising its meal she was denigrated to a position she could no longer actively protest her placement in. To him, now, she was meat.
Grasping her abdomen with his wounded limbs he painted her in his blood. His maw frothing from his animalistic emotions having conquered his sentience, he angled his groin against hers, poised for entry. With no concern for her in his predatory state he tore into her.
Tears were all she could muster between his thrusts; she sobbed while her captor claimed her body. Fear froze all her limbs in supplication to his dominance and she could no longer fight. It was absolute defeat, the thrusting further penetrating the depths of her very mind, her very being. Ripping up any image of hope, pride, strength that she had. All she had was taken from her tonight; all she was.
He leaned down causing her to recoil slighting as he bit into her breast, not with enough pressure to draw blood, yet ruthless enough to elicit a soft cry even through her body's terrified paralysis. One hand still clamped onto her body, holding her in place for each thrust as while the other scraped up the side of her abdomen and clamp onto her left shoulder, pulling her into him even further with each thrust. Her tail between her legs started to scrape against the concrete floor as he bore down on her. His claws digging in as the tremors from the thrusting.
The rhythmic thrusting continued. She just wanted to disappear, to cease being She wanted to do anything to avoid this feeling, she felt herself receding, falling into herself. He finally tensed one final time, plunging as deep into her as his body would allow in a shuddering climax of emotional blasphemy while his limbs crushed her against him. It was an eternity, she wished he killed her. That he just destroyed her, or at least had the capacity to suffocate her into unconsciousness like the first night. All was ash now.
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Stillness, at least the only kind that mattered to her. Frozen in rigid fear after such trauma, her mind and body reeling in shock. She lay there, unmoving, as her rapist muttered and trembled.
She wasn’t sure how long they laid there, she wasn’t sure of anything real anymore. Just sure she didn’t want to be here, to be herself, to be this. A crumpled pile of animal: Blood, sweat, semen, tears, all the things that make a life form arrayed in an entropic mound representing the antithesis of morality.
Her captor roused, to which she recoiled instinctively. His wounds were already scabbing over from how long they had been lying in the spiritual sepsis. His movements were hollow, zombified. Even in her state she could see his entire silhouette shudder. A visceral trembling, like he was struggling to contain something. Reaching his bloodied palm into his pockets for several seconds, in the sterile fluorescent lighting of the basement. Eventually finding purchase upon the desired object. He pry’s them from the depths of his pocket with an agonized malaise. He leaned against the door clearly struggling to maintain his upright position. Then trying to line up the key with the hole, raising it only to have it clank against the edges with his blood greased grip. Clanking the keys against the metal of the door till eventually the key found purchase as he ambled through his mental shock with a shuddering daze.
After enough failed attempts the keys slipped from his grasp, as though to taunt Liana now that she was castrated of her will, bruised and bound against the cell floor. Her rapist turned slowly to the keys and with shivering hands grabbed at the blood sullied metal chimes. Using the cage as an anchor with his wounded left hand. He lowered himself to them and picked them up, while kneeling down his eyes, still dilated, passed over her, A sight she was not ready for as again she instinctively froze from merely his gaze. He quickly looked away to focus on his tack, finally finding purchase as he clambered out through the cell door and slumping against the nearest workbench as he turned to close it. Then he turned to cabinets across the room from her cell wall nearest her cot. Trudging over to the countertop he falls towards it, catching himself with one of his arms while the other blood slick one slips on the surface causing him to flinch in pain letting a primitive snarl crawl from his throat.
Taking his other hand, he rips the drawer open. Seeming to nearly tear the drawer out as it bent awkwardly in its tracks. Digging his hand into the drawer he snapped up something inside. A familiar sound of many small objects rattling inside a plastic container echoed in the silence. He slammed it down on the bench taking several seconds working with it outside of her vision till finally it popped open. Pulling some out he downed what she could only guess were pills of some kind. Finally he fell back into his seat, still a shuddering mess of unchecked emotion.
Several minutes passed of him sitting there, staring off into space. Refusing to acknowledge her or anything around them. The shuddering slowly faded and his body suddenly tensed. He jolted up with an almost mechanical precision while he appraised himself. Then turned to her, his eyes empty of the fury before, empty of anything. Hollow baubles suspended in a ebon sea of fur. Unblinking, he spoke.
“I am not in the mood to deal with this right now… I will return later to tend to you.” His voice rasped with phlegm shadowing the fury. After a few moments of steadying himself. He then turned and, stepping with alien grace which betrayed no feeling he, wordlessly glided to the exit and up the stairs. Closing the basement door behind him. Leaving Liana alone to wallow in whatever remained of herself.
*************************************Indeterminate hours pass**********************************
Edwin was… well he didn’t quite know what he was. Nothing went as he wanted tonight, nothing as expected. To him this was perhaps the second worst possible outcome to which he only narrowly avoided the worst. While he cleaned his wounds he chastised himself, losing control was much worse than ever before. He imagined he was getting better, he had not had to increase the standard dosage for years.
This was so far outside of the approved uses of the medicine. His composure was so utterly shattered by this simple outburst. Something that he had planned so significantly around to try to avoid. Clearly he needed to always follow the full protocol, if not increase the caution.
He ran through what happened, what he remembered before he lost himself in the rage. He must have missed something, she should have been nowhere near so agile, so clear headed to have committed to such a strategy. She would have fallen unconscious much earlier if… he can’t do this right now. He would have to figure this out later. After such a lapse he could barely think straight as it was, the drugs nullifying the anger but still making it like he was navigating through a sauna of information in his head.
“This can’t happen again.”
He would have to play detective later, now that he had tended to his own wounds as best he could. He knew that she would have some as well. He barely was able to curb it, to pry the primordial maelstrom of emotional destruction away from simply crushing her barely healed neck. While he couldn’t feel it, he knew it would come later. The anger, the shame, the pain of failure, however now, now he needed to focus. To struggle through what was left of his mind right now.
He turned back to the camera looking over her cell, her body still lying there limp. Not trusting that she is unconscious he still couldn’t just let her lie there, bleeding. The cuts would lead to an infection if they weren’t cleaned. He looked over the remains of the medical supplies he had on hand. Scooping them up he looked at himself in the mirror before stepping towards the basement door. Clean, bandaged, fresh set of clothing. He was as he needed to be, as he wanted, before even approaching the basement. He Started down the stairs into the basement.
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\tLiana wasn’t really asleep, not really awake either. In a state of abject mortality, languishing in her pool of filth and ignominy. Jolted into reality by the sudden change in her environment as the door opened. Fear, only soul crushing terror grasped her first as she tried to scuttle away from what she assumed was her punishment, her execution. Unable to escape as the chain pulled tight, her body burned in protest. Instead she curled up to be as small as possible as his footsteps approached.
First she heard the cage door close followed by the familiar jingle and clank of it locking. Then the footsteps, which she prayed were on the outside, again navigated the edge of the cage till they were behind her. This was it, she was going to die…
A short few moments of the chains around her wrists jingling till… she was set free? She… she didn’t quite know what to do with this freedom. A voice, his voice.
“I will leave some alcohol and medical supplies on your bed, as well as some towels to clean up. I’ll be watching so don’t try anything else today. I have had enough of you for now.”
His footsteps clacked away to the other end of the basement, followed by the sound of the door opening… then closing. She was alone.
It took a minute or two of just… being. Just feeling herself again. His presence shocked her from whatever despair she had fallen into. At which she literally looked down to see that it was quite a vile puddle of liquids that she was laying in. Some part of her started to reboot, initialize. She looked to the shower head, then the supplies and towels on the bed. She closed her eyes and reached up for the shower handle, and turned it on.