Summary:
Choose your own adventure. (18+)
Black Flag: (least spoilers/you want the darkest ride):
Libby's life as a small-town librarian is brought to an end the night two monsters masquerading as men drag her through a portal into Hell.
Subjected to public humiliation and ritualized depravity beyond comprehension, Libby clings to one certainty: none of this is random cruelty. What purpose does it, and will she, ultimately serve in this terrible new world?
Red flag: (STOP. Only read this if you want the informed ride or are easily triggered):
Lilibeth Gildbane is the daughter of the King of Greed and his only living heir. Her father has been missing for a decade, leaving her kingdom to suffer at the hands of the other six circles of Hell. The only way to protect her realm is to design a plan so depraved that it will trap her between the role of architect and victim.
Her plan requires her to give a command to the two men she trusts most: her loyal commanders, Galen and Fenrow. Her orders? Wipe her memories. Stalk her. Break her. Make it real. And when they do? When it becomes too real and twists the minds of her loyal vassals?
Well, that's when things get interesting for you, dear reader.
---
Notes:
First and foremost:
No AI was used to write this. This filth comes directly from my very own thought pocket, thank you very much.
A few serious warnings:
This content will trigger most people. Do not read this if you are triggered by hot yandere drow elves, rape fantasies, extreme power play, cum fetishes, humiliation and degradation, forced anal, public use, captivity and confinement, stalking, demons, monster dicks, and bondage/restraints.
Bookmark This Series to Follow Updates:
This is a multi-chapter story, and I will make efforts to update weekly, though posting schedule may vary. At first, I planned to make this a 16 chapter series and close the book. However, due to how well it's being received by the community and the stack of notes I have on my desk if I decided to extend it, you'll be enjoying this story for some time to come.
The smut starts pretty quickly, so don't worry, you won't have to wait long. BUT there IS a real plot, I promise.
Do not replicate or reproduce any of the acts in this short.
Many will not feel safe reading this. It is okay if you DNF. In fact, I strongly suggest you immediately go outside and touch grass afterwards. Or talk to your therapist. ;)
Comments and Feedback:
I'm curious to know which route you chose. How are you enjoying the story? Should I keep writing it? I'm in a tough place in life mentally, financially, existentially, and would love some encouragement in the comments if it's due. Writing is my happy place, and I'd love to keep doing it.
A Quick Note:
None of these themes appear in this body of work: scat, piss, extreme gore, necrophilia, underage, bestiality (there is some light anthro).
---
Ch. 1 - Devils in Disguise
Libby cursed as she stood outside the library doors, rummaging in her bag for the key ring she swore she'd snatched off her desk. It wasn't in her bag, that much was obvious. The clunky thing was impossible to miss. It was littered with old loyalty program tabs from stores that'd closed over two decades ago, along with several keys that none of the staff knew which locks they belonged to anymore.
She threw a sharp glance over her shoulder. Her old Fiat was parked under a sprawling oak tree, and the gray van the library used for its Books on Wheels events was in a spot at the far end. They were the only vehicles in the parking lot.
So then why did it feel like someone was watching her? Why was she shaking so much?
She'd felt like this since June, just after the company retreat, and it was already almost October. Four months. Four months of feeling like someone was breathing down her neck and watching her from the shadows.
Resigning herself and cursing another time for good measure, Libby flung the doors open and jogged through the lobby, the overhead fans blowing her sandy brown locks back from her shoulders.
Go in, get out, make it quick.
The Elderbee library was a two-story building erected sometime in the late eighties. It'd been remodeled once, but it was already a decade overdue for another.
Every five or so rows, a small alarm light illuminated the aisles. They barely penetrated the gloom and only served to cast the floor in a milky hue that turned everything into a muted grey-scale.
It only served to make the large building feel twice as large, twice as dark.
Remnants of the library's after-hours event, a dour affair celebrating antiquated fiction, were still strewn about. Cocktail cups, tiny napkins, and leftover standees that discussed the works from various regions around the globe.
It was almost ten, and everyone, guests and employees, had already left for the night, leaving her to lock up on her own.
The bastards. Let's just say she didn't have any favorites at work.
This library had always given her the creeps after hours.
Even before she'd starting obsessing over the fact that she might have a stalker.
Surprise, surprise, the police had done nothing. She'd tried to explain her situation to the officer. How she felt like there were eyes on her at work, at the grocery store and even at home. When she couldn't give a suspect description, he'd given her the look and then told her there was little they could do if they didn't have any "tangibles." The public stewards of Portland—not to be confused with the sprawling, identically named metropolis in Oregon—had sent a squad car to patrol her street for a few days. However, Maine law enforcement hadn't spotted anyone and had ended up closing the case the following week. The officer who'd been in charge of her case had told her she should get out more and look into counseling.
Like she said, they'd done nothing.
Her desk was on the second floor, butted up against the wooden partition that doubled as a railing just off the top landing. She took the steps two at a time, needing to get this over with before her fried nerves burned her resolve to a crisp. The sooner she got out of here, the sooner she could lock herself in her car and circle the block multiple times until she didn't see any headlights tailing her. Because wasn't that just the best way to end the evening, every evening?
The keys weren't at her desk.
She checked every drawer just to be sure, but they weren't there. She turned, building up the courage to go and check the rear office, when a glint caught her eye.
The keyring in question was on the floor two rows down from where she stood. It was centered within a spotlit circle from an overhead alarm light.
Everything seized up all at once.
Her breathing stopped, and her skin felt too tight.
Had someone taken her keys and planted them there?
Would someone jump out the moment she got close?
She shook herself, knocking some sense back into her overactive thoughts. That was the last aisle she'd been in towards the end of the night. Children's was just behind her workstation, and she'd had to put several books away that a toddler attending the event had pulled out in a surge of sugar-induced fury. The mother had been apologetic, and Libby hadn't wanted to continue the interaction any longer than it'd already gone, and had waved her off with an encouraging smile and polite placations.
Most likely, Libby had dropped her keys there when she'd been cleaning up the aisle. Yes, that had to be it.
Shaking herself, she wiped her sweaty palms on her green corduroy pants, and forced steel into her spine. Her hand sank into her bag and closed around the gun she'd made herself buy last month, pulling it out and flipping the safety.
Just in case.
She crept towards the keyring, her feet quiet as she stepped across the carpeted floor. When she reached the head of the aisle, she quickly peered around the corner. The row was dim, the far end shrouded in complete darkness. She clicked on her flashlight keychain, braced, and shone it towards the end.
It was empty.
She released a tense breath and quickly squatted down to pick up her keys.
That moment of vulnerability was all it took.
A hard body tackled her to the ground, the air rushing from her lungs at the impact. The gun was wrenched out of her grasp, and a knee was shoved between her legs. They tucked both of her arms under her body and trapped them against her stomach where they were pinned and useless.
Libby whimpered as a hand fisted the hair at the base of her neck, bowing her back until her throat lifted off the floor.
"Please," was all she could manage, her voice thinner than she'd ever heard it. She wanted to shout, wanted to snap out of it and fight back, but shock was gripping her in an iron vise.
"Please?" a man repeated in a low tone. At first, she didn't recognize his voice. "How polite. Are you asking me to hurry this along, or are you inviting me to take my time?"
Her senses rushed back all at once, and she screamed, but only for a heartbeat. A thick wad of fabric was shoved into her open mouth. Before she could build up another cry, a length of cord was pulled taut across her face, snared between her molars, and fastened at the back of her head.
"Can't have you distracting me with all that noise. Now behave and hold still."
Tears welled thick in her throat as true fear saturated her veins. He was at least twice her size, and she couldn't budge him an inch. She'd tried, was trying, but his heavy chest mashed her breasts against the floor, and he'd locked his legs around hers, keeping them immobile.
He kept her there, unmoving, his body silently forcing hers to submit. Her heart was pounding, her chest rising and falling so fast she thought she was going to pass out.
The man leaned down and dragged his tongue along the back of her neck. Libby cried out from behind the gag, trying to scream through her nose. Someone had to hear her, someone had to stop him before it was too late.
His hand came across the lower half of her face, trapping her wails inside. Another long-fingered hand was gripping her throat, choking her until her vision started to go black. What felt like an eternity later, he released her long enough so she could suck in a few ragged breaths before squeezing again. When he finally let her throat go the second time, she devolved into a coughing fit, wheezing as she struggled to regulate her breathing.
The scent of sandalwood and incense crashed into her nostrils. That was all it took. Recognition crashed into her like a freight train. She knew who this was. In fact, she'd seen him at the event a little over an hour ago, leaning against a wall and reading Nietzsche.
By conventional standards, he'd been handsome, with a strong jaw and flinty eyes that'd made the blood freeze in her veins the one time they'd made eye contact across the room during the panel reading.
The reading had been dull, and Libby had noticed his eyes had rarely left the pages of Beyond Good and Evil. He somehow fit in with these stuffy types despite the obvious disparity in breeding. Long legs, a bespoke suit. This man felt untouchable, someone who would never be interested in a girl from Iowa who'd grown up a mile from a pig farm, whose family grew potatoes to help take the edge off when times were hard.
She'd been cleaning up one of the metal cocktail tables when she'd felt a light tug, as if someone had come up behind her and briefly grasped a few strands of her hair. Pivoting on her heel, she'd expected the space behind her to be empty and confirm that it'd just been a hallucination.
Only, the Nietzsche man had been standing there, a faint smile playing at his lips.
He'd been tall from across the room. This close, he towered above her, at least a foot, maybe more, of height disparity between them. Stormy gray eyes regarded her, mid-length dark hair curling slightly at the ends. Cleanly shaven, with a shadow of stubble that accentuated his angular cheekbones. She'd been flat-out staring when she realized he'd been holding out his hand, a tuft of dust caught between his fingers.
"A rather bold fashion statement, but I figured you wouldn't lament its loss."
"Oh. Um… thank you. I must've caught a dust bunny while I was crawling in the stacks earlier."
Her arms had been full of unused napkins and clear plastic cups. In short, she looked busy. He made no move to step out of her path, that smile that wasn't a smile still ghosting across his lips. She hadn't known what else to say and had only stood there awkwardly, hoping he would let her go.
Then he'd given her a brief incline of his head and walked into the crowd, turning a corner before finally going out of sight.
Libby had brushed it off, feeling overly paranoid. She knew how naive it sounded, but it hadn't crossed her mind that this man could be her stalker. Because people like him, attractive people of pedigree, didn't need to follow poor librarians around at night. They didn't need to be rapists because it was so easy for them to get as much sex as they could possibly want with whomever they wanted.
Just because this man had made the hair on the back of her neck stand up didn't mean he was her stalker. Because that wouldn't make sense.
None of this made sense.
Libby was losing steam, already winded. She hadn't stopped struggling, not once, but now she was exhausted, her breaths coming in labored pants.
His hand clamped around the waistband of her pants, shucking them down her legs in quick, uneven jerks. She'd started weeping, her thoughts turning and twisting in the paralyzed recesses of her mind.
"I'd like to propose a wager," he said conversationally. She heard the clink of his belt buckle. "First, you should know we are the only ones inside this building. The front door is padlocked from the inside, and I've got every entrance covered by an armed guard." He ran his nose down the line of her jaw, inhaling her scent as he trailed the aquiline tip towards her ear. "No one will be here until morning, which means we'll have plenty of time together. In short, that means I can do whatever I want to you, howeverI want, and there is nothing you can do about it." He roughly grabbed a handful of her ass, and she shrieked from behind the gag as he spread her apart, grinding his burning erection against her. "The sooner you accept that, the sooner you might have a chance to stop this from happening."
The hard line of his erection burned against Libby's backside, his words senselessly echoing in her mind.
"I'll give you one chance. If you keep quiet and manage to take me without making a sound, then I'll stop. Just like that. I'll slide into you so you can feel me, and if you're a good girl, I'll pull it right out and leave you be. How does that sound? Do we have a deal?"
Libby was shivering, her entire body a live wire pulsing with bitter streams of cold. She could feel herself pulling away, her mind trying to disassociate. It didn't matter what he was offering. He had just told her, in no uncertain terms, that he was going to hurt her, that he would make this so painful she'd scream no matter how hard she tried not to.
And even if she managed it? She had no reason to believe him. If he'd truly locked them in here, then there was no way he would expend this much effort just to let her go afterwards. Besides, she'd already seen his face.
The consequences sat like tar in the pit of her stomach, curdling and making her feel sick.
A draft blew across the bare skin of her hip just as she felt the broad head of his cock press against the back of her thighs. She flinched, the only thing she could manage underneath his weight. His cock was heavy and searing hot, the tip drenched with a coating of his pre-cum.
"This will hurt less if you relax for me, Libby," he whispered, leaning in until the wet tip slid between her legs. The sound of her name in his mouth set her teeth on edge, made her want to never use the name again. "I'll lubricate you enough for the both of us. You see, I've been looking forward to this for a long, long time. Ever since I caught my first glimpse of your curvy little body, all I've wanted to do is bury myself to the hilt inside you. To break that foolish, wild spirit of yours on this cock." He said the last words almost affectionately, his tone pitched low like he was sharing a personal secret.
Cold. She was so cold. Everything felt distant, unreal, and she was only half listening to his words. She'd been so incredibly stupid. A single woman in an isolated building with a suspected stalker haunting her footsteps. Why hadn't she used a shred of sense? Maybe this was her divine punishment. Perhaps that's why she was destined to be alone. Too stupid for her own good, too useless to protect herself or even to put her weapon to use.
When the head of his cock moved against her slit, only to shift higher until it was poised at the ring of her other entrance, her body froze in new horror.
"Yes." The Nietzsche man released her mid-length hair and gripped the back of the leather strap he'd fitted between her teeth. He wrapped it around his fist, the cord like a bridle in his hand. He wrenched it towards him, and her shoulders arched from the floor. "That's where I'm going to take you. You'll behave for me, won't you?"
She shook her head, trying to plead with him, to beg him to let her go. Then she remembered his wager, his uncertain promise, and forced herself to clamp her jaw shut.
He'd already won, but that promise was all she had, and she gripped onto it like a lifeline. A breath later, pressure welled at her back opening. He pressed himself in deeper, and discomfort quickly bled into agony.
There was nothing she could have done to stop the screech that erupted from behind the gag. Distantly, she heard his biting laugh as fresh waves of horror washed over her.
From somewhere deep in her soul, she found the willpower to thrash again, desperately trying to buck him off. But it was useless. She might as well have been trying to move a slab of cement off her back.
"You know, I am a man of my word. I would have let you off as promised if you hadn't started braying like an animal. Though I suppose a title like that is fitting for someone like you, isn't it? Little better than the pigs you grew up with, aren't you, Libby?"
Burning pain unlike anything she'd ever experienced in her life flared as he forced himself into her bottom inch by punishing inch. Her saliva drenched the gag, his breathy laugh pitching higher in volume every time she spasmed under him. A hand slid down between them, and he found her clit. He pinched it too hard, tugging on it with cruel fingers. She squealed in discomfort, hopelessness overwhelming her fury as he used her surprise to shunt himself deeper. At her keening cry, he grunted, the sound of satisfaction building to a snarl as he bottomed out inside her.
Full. So full. Full of him, full of despair. Fissures of pain radiated from her aching aperture, the unbearable stretch dragging her beyond the confines of sanity. He gave her no time to adjust, dragging himself back out before shoving it back in again. He rocked himself into her, chasing his own pleasure, his tongue coming out to lick the tears that painted her cheeks.
"I know this is your first time taking a cock here," he grunted in her ear. "But I'm also glad our first time together allows me to demonstrate what the future of our relationship will look like. I don't want to leave you with any illusions of what your life is going to be like from here on out."
A sob tore free at his words, and he started fucking her in earnest, his balls slapping heavily against her pussy, his pre-cum so copious and thick that it fully lubricated her rear passage.
"The thing is, I know everything about you there is to know, Libby. Which is an abysmally short list." He made a derisive sound. "But you already knew that, didn't you? You've felt me. Felt eyes on you no matter where you tried to hide. But all that was for your protection." He pinched her clit again, and she cried out as he rolled the nub between his fingers. "But after what you've done? You should be thanking me for soiling my cock in your ass, especially after you ruined your pretty cunt with that sordid lowlife. So now? Now this is the only hole I can stomach to use, as filthy a hole as it is."
Her face was soaked with tears, her body a taut line of pain. His teeth grazed her throat and bit down sharply into the tender flesh between her neck and shoulder.
"This is the hardest part, or so I've heard. But it can't feel that bad, can it? Not when you feel this good. Damn it, Libby. It's like you were made for me."
Her cries ratcheted into shrieks as he continued to brutalize her, his thrusts increasing in speed, the burning rod sawing in and out of her abused opening without any regard for her at all. As if she were just an orifice, a piece of unfeeling flesh for him to use at will.
"I'm not going to be able to last much longer, but don't worry, we'll have plenty of time to make sure you get your fill of cum. Once we leave this place, cum is all you'll be allowed to have until you've redeemed yourself. So get ready. Your training is only just beginning."
His cock swelled even larger as he roared his release, finishing himself off inside her with several sharp snaps of his hips. His fingers bruised her skin as he moaned in approval, his cock spasming inside her channel as he bathed her insides with his semen.
She could only lie there, still crushed underneath him, her mind blank, her body frozen. He slid out of her without comment, not bothering to be gentle, and she whimpered once she was finally empty.
"A tight, perfect ass. Luckily for you, I doubt I'll ever tire of sinking into it every night. A shame about your pussy, though, but I suppose I can just use your throat to supplement from time to time." He shifted off her and gave her a single slap across her backside, the sting bringing fresh tears to her eyes. She didn't dare move from where he'd left her, dread coiling in her gut as he straightened and rose to a standing position.
"Go on. She's yours," she heard him say. "Don't take all night. We have to cross the border in a few hours. You'll have the opportunity to sample her sweet ass as much as you'd like on the way there."
It took several seconds for her thoughts to pick themselves up and stitch back together into a semblance of consciousness. A new fear seeped into her as she realized he was talking to someone else.
Another man tsked. "You almost broke her, Galen. She's too fragile for that. Be more gentle, will you? I don't want you to fuck all the fight out of her before it's my turn."
A sudden flash of terror-laced clarity accompanied the entrance of this unknown man. She moved to lift her head, but a foot pressed down on the back of her neck, pinning her there. In that moment, her awareness of her own soiled body burned away everything else. Her torn pants discarded around her calves, her fluttering, drooling asshole, her limp limbs defeated and unmoving on the ground.
Her sluggish thoughts circled back to the people who'd attended the event, trying to connect the voice with one of the faces, but none fit the deep baritone this man possessed.
Libby tried to turn her head, but only caught a flash of smooth, porcelain skin and shockingly white hair before her head was firmly positioned forward, her forehead pressed to the floor.
This time, she didn't bother to move. These were two men, and there was no way she could overpower either of them, let alone both. Maybe if she remained docile, they would spare her. If it meant it would be over faster, then she would lie here and let this man use her until he was done.
"Come here, love," the new man said, pulling her so that she was on her side and he was spooned against her. His hands were kind, his words were soft, but his cock was painfully hard at her back and stabbed against the base of her spine.
His fingers came between her legs, trailing through the previous man's ejaculate. "Ah, yes. Truly, you are perfect," he said as he spread it around the swollen ring of flesh. "You're already so eager for me."
Realizing this man intended to take her in the same hole as the last, aimed to debase her even further, made a hollowness open up inside her that threatened to swallow her whole.
"I wish I could be more gentle, but if I'm not inside you in the next few seconds, I'm going to go absolutely feral, and neither of us wants that to happen for your first time."
With the other man's cum to ease his path, he lined himself up with her back entrance and pushed himself inside. Speckles floated in her vision, her body shuddering as his impossibly thick cock thrust into her.
Even though she'd taken the man he'd called Galen earlier, her ass had already tightened up again, and his cock made her feel as terrible and as miserable as the first one had. The wet sounds of the man's egress punctuated each thrust, and she felt streams of warm fluid drip down the lips of her disregarded pussy and leak down her inner thighs.
Once he was fully seated, he began to move inside her slowly. He took his time, not bothering to increase his speed. With his arms still wrapped around her, he'd maneuvered them so that most of her body was off the ground and halfway on top of him. He cradled her against him in the crook of his arms, and whispered sweet nothings into her ear, intermittently placing a tender kiss at her temple, along her neck.
A sound caught between abject fear and confusion escaped her lips.
The contradiction between what he was doing and how he was touching her sent spliced signals to her brain, leaving her with a noxious turmoil that made it impossible to think straight.
The man was taking her as if he were a lover. As if this meant something to him.
Her skin crawled in revulsion when he pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder in the same spot the last man had sunk his teeth. She couldn't see where Galen had gone, could only see about ten steps in any direction through the dim stacks.
His fingers trailed down her belly before they slid into her delicate folds. Libby cringed, waiting for him to mercilessly torture her sore bundle of nerves.
He started stroking her there. Tenderly. Expertly.
"Unlike Galen, I prefer to teach with pleasure," he said, rolling his hips as he pushed back into her. She winced, but the pain had begun to edge into something even more horrific, something that made her heart slam harder in her chest and shock roll through her body.
"Yes, that's it," he encouraged. "Let it happen. It's not your fault that you're weaker, nor is it shameful to be conquered by me."
A single fingertip teased her nub, and he rubbed her as slowly as he fucked her, each thrust languorous and sensual.
"Galen was right about one thing, however. You ruined this pretty little cunt for us. After what you did, all it deserves is my fingers, and that's all you'll ever get from me."
Libby's face was bright red, her breaths starting to come in hiccupping gasps. She felt a strange heat starting to build in her core. She shook her head, trying to reject whatever it was, to pretend that she was anywhere else but here.
"You were meant to be ours. Ever since we found you and decided to protect you, we made sure no one could get too close. But then you met that inferior swine and let him fuck you, you filthy girl."
She shuddered, both in disgust and from an unwanted ache building inside her core. No, it wasn't possible. What was wrong with her? How could she?
She furiously shook her head, which only served to slow the man's movements even more. "Shh. Be a good girl for me. I want you to come on my cock. If you don't…" he paused his thrusts, "then I can drag this out for as long as it needs to take."
The unknown man unfastened the gag from around her mouth, and she sucked in deep breaths of cool air. The finger at her clit started tracing slow circles, teasing her towards an edge she didn't want to fall over.
This was sick. These men were sick and wrong, and vile.
"You'll come to learn that I'm a patient man, my dear."
Libby was shaking, her body swarming with a toxic blast of pleasure as he flicked his fingers, his cock continuing its tender pace.
"I know, I know," he cooed, "you don't want this. I'm sorry, I know." He hummed gently, calmly, as if he didn't have his cock buried to the hilt inside a woman he was actively raping. "Your sweet submission makes me want to be rough with you. To show you that I can be much, much worse than Galen. But like I said, I can be very, very patient."
He was worse. Far, far worse than Galen. At least with Galen, it had been clear. A sociopath who used violence to indulge his cruel, selfish intentions. Libby had quickly understood that to Galen, she was little more than a convenient place to relieve himself, something for him to use and later discard. As fucked up as it was, she could understand that. He was the beast, the animal that had lost all privileges to call itself human.
But the man behind her? The one lazily flicking her clit and pretending to be kind, pretending that he wasn't delighting in violating another person's body? He was someone who possessed an utterly black soul. A true monster.
And she didn't even know what he looked like.
"Baby, I'm getting close. If I finish before you do, I'll have to ask Galen to take your ass again. You don't want that, do you? So come for me. Show me that we chose the right girl. We'll take care of you, pamper you when you're not pleasuring one of our cocks. You're special to us now, you know that, right?"
"Y-you're fucking d-disgusting," she spat, finding her voice at last. It had been some time since he had removed her gag, but she'd been too weak to muster coherent words. Now, she felt vitriol boil in her throat, and she'd had to say something, even if her words were pitifully few.
"Oh sweetheart, you have no idea. The things I'm going to do to you. The way I'm going to turn you into a panting bitch that drops to all fours with her ass in the air and whimpers for my cock. You'll always be hungry for my cum, begging me to put something in your empty belly. But don't worry. Once you've earned the right to eat food again, we'll ensure you still get plenty of cum in your diet."
Libby was seconds from losing the contents of her stomach. His hand suddenly clamped around her throat, blocking her windpipe.
He moaned with each shift of his hips. "Yes, that's it. I'll fill you from both ends, my darling. All for our good girl."
His deft fingers didn't stop assaulting her clit, the vulgar sensation igniting a pressure deep in her belly.
There was no warning. Libby came apart on his fingers, her aching pussy clamping around nothing, her sore ass too full to bear.
"There she is, our good little whore." He laughed darkly, the sound a sonorous ripple in her ears.
As she damned herself with her orgasm, she felt her courage briefly rear its head. In that moment, Libby wanted to see the face of this man. To know her assailant and witness the countenance of true evil. Tilting her head back on her shoulder, she turned to look up at him.
Oh.
Oh no.
Like Galen, he was striking. His face was softer, less angular, but no less beautiful. Hints of defined musculature rippled under his fine clothes, and he had a cast to his expression that made him look like he found something to be permanently amusing. Only his eyes belied his true nature. They were emotionless, their crystal blue depths flat and utterly dead.
Which only made her more confused, more terrified of what they were truly after.
"Since you came so well for me," he said, staring down at her, "I suppose it's my turn for some fun. You know what that means, don't you, my love?"
She didn't, and it only served to send her spiraling into another fit of panic. He winked down at her, and his cock took on a ruinous cadence. Libby tore her eyes from him, letting them settle on a colorful book with a fuzzy green caterpillar on the cover. Her eyes focused on it even as his strong hips pounded into hers, his painfully large shaft stealing her breath and ravaging her without mercy.
"I'll make you a promise as well," he said with a hiss. "There will come a day when you plead me to take this greedy hole. Once you get used to being fucked this way, it's all you'll ever want. Doesn't that sound nice? No thinking, no stress, just living as a pretty little hole for my cum."
Despite his aloof attitude, he was close. She could feel it. His thrusts were becoming more eager, his pace more punishing.
Seconds later, the frost-haired man moaned as he emptied himself into her ass, his hot cum splashing her battered walls. The sound he made didn't sound human, was something that came from the depths of hell and raised every hair along her body. Impossibly hot and thick, his cum gentled the drag of his heavy cock as he slid from her slack channel.
***
Ten minutes later, Libby had been stripped bare. Her wrists and ankles had been bound in front of her with zip ties, rendering her entirely immobile.
She'd come to learn the other man's name. It was Fenrow, a name she surmised was either foreign or fake. It was he who was presently carrying her through the lobby in both arms, his tousled white locks covering half of his face. He was tall, perhaps an inch or two shorter than Galen, but it didn't matter. Both made her feel diminutive at her meager five feet four inches.
Although Fenrow was clearly a psychopath, a certain boyishness touched his full pink lips and the lightly upturned tip of his nose. It made his face deceptively angelic, a trait she'd noticed he and Galen both shared. They didn't look like the kind of people you'd expect to find in Portland. People like them belonged on TV, on a runway, or were generated by AI. If she'd met them under normal circumstances, she likely would've been tongue-tied and blushed like an idiot.
But now? Now, their faces only reinforced her fear of what they intended to do with her.
Sensing her eyes on him, Fenrow glanced down and gave her a pleasant, close-lipped smile.
"It'll take us a while to get to our final destination, but don't worry." He winked down at her. "I'll be keeping you company and helping you pass the time in the back."
She turned her face away, repressing a shudder. She stared off at some distant point, letting her eyes go blurry at the edges.
Before they'd gotten the zip ties on her, she'd tried to fight them one last time. She'd already known it would be a losing battle, but it didn't matter. She'd had to try. The awful reality of being captured, of being forced into a life of servitude to these two freaks, allowing her existenceto devolve into a living nightmare, had rekindled an inferno inside her blood.
They'd caught her before she'd even managed to make it two steps, easily overpowering her and laughing at her like she was being mischievous. Then they'd pinned her down and trussed her up like the animal they'd previously compared her to.
A chilly gust pelted her skin the moment Fenrow walked outside, though that hadn't been the only reason she'd shivered.
A sleek black van pulled up from around the side of the building and came to a stop under the covered entrance. As she took it in, her heart started to race all over again. It was the kind of van she imagined the government or a security agency would use: blacked-out windows, double swing rear doors, and enough space to hide a trove of expensive equipment and gear.
Who were these people? They weren't your average sickos, that much was clear. Were they cultists? Criminals, maybe? It'd certainly sounded like they belonged to some organization when they'd mentioned that they had chosen her.
Libby glanced up at the domed security camera above, praying that the device was still operational. At ten A.M. tomorrow, Jackob and Lina would come to work, see her car, and realize something had happened to her. Hopefully, they'd call the police, who would hopefully decide to review the security footage. Maybe they would be able to trace the van's license plates and locate the owners of the vehicle.
That was, if the plates were real and the cameras were actually working.
It was a single light in the dark, but it would have to be enough.
Because it was all she had.
The thought made bile rise in her throat, but she held it in. She was already covered in filth, was filthy, but she couldn't stomach the thought of being covered in her own vomit.
She would have to play along. At least for now. The last thing she wanted to do was to push these men too far and find out how much violence they were capable of. She needed to bide her time, observe, and look for opportunities to manipulate them, if such a thing were possible. Libby had pitifully little experience when it came to using her feminine wiles, but she had to try. To escape them, she'd have to be smart and use everything she had at her disposal. Which meant she couldn't risk goading them into abusing more parts of her body. An injury would only slow her down and make it harder to get away.
"By the way," Fenrow said quietly in her ear. "I'm having someone pick up your car tonight." Libby felt the blood drain from her body. "We're also going to make sure we lock up after you. Can't let anything bad happen to an archive of great American literature, after all." He lightly snorted, as if this were all some funny joke. Clearly, that's what all this was to him. A diversion. Entertainment. Libby refused to look at him, fighting to swallow a lump of despair forming in her throat. "No one is going to come looking for you, sweetheart. You've always been a transient nobody. People will think the anti-social klutz skipped town, was just passing through on her way to her next gig."
Libby was still reeling as the doors swung open. Fenrow easily cleared the ledge and stepped up into the van. The doors shut behind them, locking her inside a fresh new hell.