The taking of Nicolette

Her body ached from the binds. Hours passed, the stretch of her limbs finally forcing her to scream out for help. Whoever, whatever, this was, he had seeped into her mind, controlling her every waking moment. So many questions that would go without an answer, but did she need one, or did she want one?

“Wasn’t this what you wanted?” asked the voice from the corner of the dimly lit room. She still hadn’t seen him. Not in his entirety at least. The one sense that would prevail over all others the sense of smell.

Deep, labored breaths, she took in the aroma that filled the room each time he walked in. Not a bad smell, but different. There was something in the way he smelled that sent waves of chills up and down her spine.

“Close your eyes and do not open them until you’ve been instructed!” His voice was so consequential that she did so without questions.

Breathing soft, her hair sprawled out over the pillow as she listened to his footfalls coming forward. Heavy, his shoes, expensive. Funny how you can tell that from the sounds of shoes. There was no squeak, no nothing. Just a hard thump as he came forward, his presence looming over her small framed body. She could not see him, but at times in one’s life one sense takes over for the other.

A cold blade moved from her ankle to inner thigh, not stopping till it rested in the crease between her hip and thigh. No nicks, not cuts, well, not yet at least. For now, all he wanted was her to know its presence.

The sounds of a chair dragged, stopped, and one of the legs pushed against the table that held her. Not a normal table, but one of those uncomfortable medical ones. She could feel the padding beneath her, but her mind flooded to an exam. God, was that what he would do. Examine her? A soft click and heat blanketed her body. A light. It had to be a warming light. Beneath the sash that covered her eyes, she could see the slightest bit of light seeping in.

“Please stop! Please..” she fought for her words, but meant nothing. She didn’t want him to stop. She wanted everything.


Her body jolting up from the table, she could feel the welts already beginning to form. He slapped her pussy lips with a flat palm, not holding back when he did. The slap hurt. Her whole body came alive with the sickness she craved. Pain is an intoxicating drug when done right. She soon would realize that some things are better left in the mind, and not the physical form. Do not dream what you cannot handle.

Drawing her legs up, she made the bindings tightened to remind her that she had no choice tonight. She was a puppet and he the one who pulled the strings.

“Tell me how bad you want to feel again,” whispers from ear to ear, he now loomed over the front of her body. His warm breath on the shell of her ear, giving her a slight bit of anxious panic. How, what? How did he move without her knowing it? She was becoming so in tune with his presence that his absence was not felt.

“Please,” she spoke, knowing that her needs had betrayed her with want and desire. A heat built inside of her core, the residual evidence of the fire dripped down the crack of her ass.

She couldn’t see his face to know he was smirking. His cheeks pulled upwards to a cocky grin. None of this visible to the naked eye, but she knew. There are times in life when sight is not needed to know what life has planned for you. You can feel it in your bones.

“Did you think I was going to fuck you?” he asked, his voice ringing with laughter. It was apparent that he found her sexual needs to be humorous. “Tsk little one. You’re giving into human needs, but we both know, you are not human at all,” growling, he pushed his face against hers. The stubble of a day’s growth scratching her ivory flesh.

“I know you’re not because I am the one who created you!” his voice held amusement as he confessed. “No, I am not your father. That is a human fault. I am the one who snatched you as a mere infant and kept you bathed in nothing but pure hate until the day you are ready to share your gifts with the sickness of the world,” the male confessed, his voice deepening to a low animalistic growl.

“I never asked you to touch me,” screaming, her mouth and her brain had yet to synch up. She wanted it. Wanted him to be the one to soil her. If he had created her, he knew that once he fucked her, she would never be the same. Her victims would liter that earth in her wake. She was not human, but she was not like him either. She was driven by lust and awaited the one who could set her free.

He ignored her lies, knowing all too well what she wanted. His body sliding between those beautiful legs, one could say flawless. Her entire body is flawless. Almost as though she was created to tempt man. To drive them into a frenzied lust that they no longer had the self-control to hold them back.

Did she forget that weight on her hip? The cold steel that lay next to her smooth mound. He could almost smell the aroma of her cunt. So different than others. She is made to entice even the strongest man to fall at her feet and beg for release.

“It’s almost time, but not until I mark what is mine. No matter how many men touch you, there will be none like me,” speaking, his words blanketing her with a layer of chills. Yes, even she found that her body would react to even the most human of needs.

“Did you know that in some countries they cut off the clit to ensure that a woman does not enjoy sex?” his voice radiated a new threat that she had never thought of. “Don’t worry my little pet, I will not take that away from you, yet. Deny me what is mine and I will mutilate what is yours,” threatening her with impending actions of violence.

With his dominant hand, he held the knife. The other would part her seal to expose an intact hymen. The desire was there, but that was not how he would do this. When she was ready, he would fuck the innocence out of her until his cock dripped with blood from her innermost depths. Patience was running thin, but she would be worth the wait. “Beg me not to carve it out of you. DO IT!” growling, he was almost inaudible.

“I won’t beg for anything,” screaming, her voice echoing through the room.

“Then you leave me no choice but to mark what is mine. To show the world that you are my property!” his words spat out with an air of possession.

This man, or was he a beast, slid the ring from his finger, holding it over a burning candle to the right of her. A pentagram with his initials heated till they reached a cherry red.

“What’s burning? I smell something,” her voice caught in her throat as he placed the ring flat to her thigh, branding her flesh with his mark. Screams flooded the room, but they would go unanswered. This was the first step in her right of passage. Soon, the hell would walk the earth in search of victims of her own.

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