Isolated Property - Bonus Scene 02

This is meant to be read after Isolated Property and Isolated Property: Bonus Scene. I can't promise it'll make sense without it but it's a quick, pitch black (spoilers) scene for anyone who likes their non con without all the romance.

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Stupid.

So fucking Stupid.

Avery had been doing so well. He'd even let her start walking, albeit with his hand constantly resting on her neck, but she'd been walking instead of hauled around like a sack to be positioned wherever he wanted her.

And then she just got stupid. A moment of weakness. One slip and here she was.

The bar dug into her back below her shoulder blades. She tried again to relax her limbs a little, increase the arch in her spine so her elbows weren't pulling the bar so harshly. But it was no use. He'd bound her forearms to her biceps, keeping the bar firmly lodged in the crook of her arm and against her mid back as it ran across her body, holding her stiffly upright. She couldn't see where he'd secured the bar itself but then again, the bed was surrounded by fixation points, she knew that all too well.

Two weeks, three days. She'd managed to keep herself compliant, quiet, and seemingly beaten. Harrison had eased up! And then she just lost it. What an idiot. It was just how he stood there, his huge arms crossed over his chest as he watched her pee. Her arms had still been locked behind her back, but her ankle cuffs hadn't been clipped to one another. This rash anger had just overcome everything she'd been building towards.

Her legs ached, knees bent as far as possible so her thighs could be firmly lashed to her calves. Another bar holding them obscenely open. She'd lost sensation in her feet from the pressure a while ago. She tried to move again. Nothing. Not even a shift of her hips. She hadn't been able to see when he'd fixed her in place but she could tell every strap or rope on her body was tied off somewhere. She was pulled in all directions at once resulting in absolute motionlessness.

When he had lowered his hands to come towards her to clean her she'd lost all sense of herself and threw her body forward, lowering her head so that the crown slammed into his unprepared stomach. Even relaxed the muscles there were hard, but the satisfying whoosh of air from his mouth had made any ache she felt in her neck worthwhile.

She had managed to scramble into the kitchen, almost to the back door. But when she turned to get her hand lined up with the knob he'd been there, glaring at her. Only then had the full weight of what she'd just done hit her. Two weeks and three days of progress lost. Punishment would follow, as would resetting the clock on his treatment of her.

She'd babbled, hysterical when he came at her, but there was no pity in his eyes, not a word of anger from his lips. He'd dragged her back to the bedroom, locked the gag in place, and begun slowly binding her to complete stillness. When he'd rolled her on her stomach and laid the bar across her back she'd been sure he was going to strike her, but now this was worse. She was locked in place, nothing to distract her from how completely immobile she was.

Once more she tried to throw her head, to dislodge the sound canceling ear muffs he'd clamped over her ears, or to disturb the complete darkness behind the blackout mask he'd placed over her eyes. She could do little more than strain against the rope that ran from the base of her ponytail to some ring embedded above her, keeping her head perfectly still.

Immobility, complete loss of her dominant senses, and nothing but time to sit there and feel every piece of bondage keeping her completely static.

He was fucking evil.

She knew what he was doing. He'd been in enough counterterrorism units to have been trained in "interrogation techniques." He was letting her stew, leaving her blind, deaf and dumb, elaborately tethered so there could be no mistaking her situation. Her rebellion was met with a demonstration of his complete dominance. So he left her with no other option than to face reality: He controlled every inch of her body and there was nothing she could do to change that.

Her fingers strained against the ropes, even her hands unable to curl into the fists of rage she felt because he had looped the bindings around each digit individually. A muffled sob, one she felt but could only hear from inside her own skull, erupted unbidden. She promised herself, again and again, that she would survive this, that she would last as long as it took to get away. She couldn't give in.

The dark and silence conspired to fill her desperate mind with whatever it could latch onto. But instead of happier times she felt herself lost in the last few weeks: the view of the lake from the porch, the way he lined up the dishes on the shelves by size, the deep blue ink of a tattoo on his shoulder. She felt his hands on her even then, holding her down, rubbing her shoulders, stroking her skin. She heard his voice and his breathing, the soft snores when he fell asleep, the rumble of his voice through his chest as he held her close. She screamed into the gag again, trying to banish the phantom sensations.

Her body felt empty, the one thing he hadn't included in this round of bondage was some sort of sex toy filling her up, stretching her out and making her feel his dominance inside and out. She wanted to squirm, even that tiny motion was denied to her. How long had she been here? Hours? She'd gotten used to his attentions early in the morning, before and after and sometimes during breakfast. And now she was here, hungry and empty.

She tried to ignore the nagging ache in her gut, the way her spread thighs offered up the liquid coating of her lips to the air so it could cool on her skin. A low groan rippled through the gag that filled her mouth. She would not feel this! She did not want to be fucked! She didn't want him to touch her or make her cum. It didn't matter what the darkness whispered to her.

The silence sunk its claws in, it irritated her, another itch she couldn't scratch because she was bound in place. Time lost regular intervals, stretching out in all directions in the dark, punctuated only when the pain from her bondage flared and ebbed. Her body shook, barely a centimeter in any direction as she strained once again, desperate to feel, hear, see anything besides what he'd forced on her body.

Please! She wanted to scream. Anything beyond the ropes and bars, the blindfold and gag. Anxiety grew, rippling through her. She wanted out so badly, even the slightest difference, the tiniest change of position would be a welcome relief.

She felt her anger slipping into panic and fear, the change subtle and insidious in the infinite quiet. She tried to hang onto her fury, her rational self that knew this was wrong, that he was horrible and that escape was all she truly desired. But the mind can only hold out so long, and she fell into the terror he wanted her to feel, the loss of self he designed for this exact purpose. Her mind chased itself in circles until she found herself desperate for his touch to return. She could almost feel it, his fingers on her thigh, the way he circled her clit, the easy penetration of his thick finger inside her, another seeking entrance into her ass. If she could have moved her hips she would have humped the phantom hand, desperate to feel more. But it was gone, her mind tricking her once again.

In the darkness his face took shape, his teeth displayed by his hungry grin. She saw the lust in his eyes, the way he devoured her naked body with his look. Anticipation sent her pulse skyrocketing. The promise of what was coming encouraged her wet cunt to spread its offerings down her thighs.

A voice that sounded familiar chanted 'No' over and over as she fell into another tortured fantasy, his thick organ splitting her open, her anus stretched impossibly over his slick cock, his fingers worrying her clit until she clamped around him, begging for his seed. Maybe then he would remove the bindings, let her stretch and move if only for a moment. Gratitude filled her at the thought. She'd be good. She would. Anything to let her feel her body again.

If she wished him back to her hard enough would he come? He was the only one who could save her, who could banish the dark and let her hear once more. She tried to will it, to make her fantasies real. Could that shadow touch have been true? Was that his voice in her ear or another thing she'd invented to keep her company in the dark? Her brain conjured up his hands, dozens of them, covering her body in his touch. She felt him fucking her, her cunt and ass at the same time as they clenched around nothing. In the quiet dark it happened over and over again, he was everywhere and nowhere, relentless and constant.

A woman was shouting at her, screaming at her to stop. But that voice would not fix this, it could not unbind her or touch her skin. It could not let her hear beyond the muffled moans she managed. That voice lived in the aches of her strained muscles and the pain in her stiff body. That woman hurt and she wanted no part in her wailing.

Tears soaked the blind fold, sticking the fabric to the skin of her cheek. It itched and burned but it broke the fantasy, if just for a moment. Avery was back in her head, sobbing-chest heaving, throat destroying sobs that were consumed almost completely by the gag. He was evil. And she had never wanted to see someone so badly in her life.

When his touch did finally come, and it took a long moment for her to realize it was real, she cried harder. Relief filled her, every caress welcomed, encouraged by the muffled sound in her throat as she tried to beg him for more. When he took out the gag and kissed her she opened her mouth to his tongue, sliding hers along his, eager and desperate for him to free her, to see how good she could be.

When he kisses traveled down her neck she babbled, promising, swearing she'd do what he wanted. Her voice sounded fuzzy in her ears, vibrating off of bone instead of air, deeper and unclear. He kissed her and she responded again. When he pulled away and forced the gag back into her mouth she sobbed. She begged him with every fiber of her being not to leave her again.

His hands returned, calming her desperate cries somewhat. He ran his hands over her breasts, stomach and legs, only the cuffs and ropes hindering his perusal. When he found her wet cunt she wept in relief. Every part of her sensory deprived brain focused down on his hand and the tiniest of movements as he violated the integrity of her body. When his touch disappeared she screamed behind the gag. The darkness engulfed her again.

Her body started to tilt forward, even the restraining tie in her ponytail allowed her head forward a few inches while her knees took the weight of her body, her ankles still lashed to her thighs. His hand returned, spreading her wetness over her ass, one massive finger penetrating her. She shook in her bindings, the pain of this new position nothing compared to the heady intoxication radiating up from her groin.

That mattress dipped and his hands cupped her hips. If she could have she would have arched her back further, spread her legs wider. As it was his first thrust into her needy pussy was euphoria. The dark and quiet could not contain that feeling, and she latched onto the sensation with every piece of her resolve. She could feel everything, every retreat and assault as he battered her, fucking her hard as she hung there.

When he pulled out and started pressing into her ass it burned, but she didn't care. He grabbed the bar that lay across her back with both his hand beside her bound arms. He pulled her body back onto his cock viciously, pounding her dry channel. And she reveled in it, screaming in pain but sobbing as he delivered her from the nothingness that had swallowed her whole.

Her orgasm ripped through her, shredding her overly focused nerves, exploding into the void in her mind. Nothing existed but her skin and his, the pain and the ecstasy of feeling. Lights danced behind her eyes, her head felt light despite how it bobbed on the string as he continued to ravage her, holding nothing back as he slammed into her over and over again. He would break the darkness, release her from her bindings and make her whole again. The agony that followed her climax was its own balm, the pain something that was not the endless dark behind her mask. Avery tried to hold onto to the rapidly fraying sensations but they slipped away from her, the pain faded, as did his touch and her body with it until she was left alone in the absolute, crushing void before she faded to black.

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It turns out, medical licensing exams are exactly the kind of inspiration I need.

I want to ask a question to you lovely readers and anyone with an opinion or insight please leave me a comment or write me an email. I get A LOT of requests for pregnancy in this story and in others. I am not opposed to the idea but I'd really like to know why readers like it/what's sexy about it/what makes it so exciting in non con, or how much you hate it. Whichever. This is purely for research purposes for now, I don't have any pregnancy stories planned but I'd love to learn more about what it does/doesn't for you.

I have plans to continue this story with more plot, but apparently I just really needed to torture Avery a little more to get me through this brutal study period. I can't promise more soon/ever but hopefully this continues to scratch your itch as it does mine :)

Your suggestions last time were great, so keep 'em coming. Who knows how much more stress I'll need to take out on poor Avery.