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A great fog lifted from over Lysanna’s mind. She was in a cave, cold and damp, with hard, jagged rocks digging into the soles of her bare feet. The chill of the late-Autumn wind blew through periodically, nipping at her skin, and a constant drip-drip-drip echoed off the walls. The only warmth came from a brazier on the other side of the room, its coals smouldering as their flames died out.
In her palm was a curious object. A ring, engraved silver in a pattern akin to a twisting vine and adorning a red gemstone. A faint glow emanated from it, not enough to illuminate anything, but still enough to identify that some form of magic ran through it.
It was honestly nothing more than a mundane trinket. Its craftsmanship was mediocre and would only fetch a meagre sum, and the magic within was likely far too weak to justify keeping. And yet, when she had touched the ring, she gained a sudden clarity that she had felt had been missing for many days.
Her surroundings were unfamiliar, and she had no idea how she ended up in her current situation. In fact, most of her memories were still clouded over, leaving little of her past coherent. Even knowing her own name was a miracle.
The cave she was in was lined with wooden cabinets and shelves with an assortment of plants, mushrooms, and random animal parts organised in ceramic bowls. Behind her was a worn rug covering the cold stone floor with a large rickety bed nearby. Spaced around the room were numerous books, flasks, and implements whose function were a mystery to her.
As for herself, she was clothed is rags that barely covered her body. Her shirt was torn at the midriff, and one of the arms was missing, leaving the one remaining arm to be the sole thing keeping her decent. She had no shoes, and her feet were red and bloody from the sharp stones she was standing on.
As her mind cleared more and more, it was becoming increasingly obvious that she was in a very bad situation. There was no way she would willingly dress like that in such a place, which must mean—
“Why are you just standing there?” a soft and slimy voice asked from behind her, uncomfortably close to her ear. It took all of her effort to suppress the yelp that tried crawling out of her throat. “Perhaps the spell needs weakening if you’re forgetting your tasks.”
Lysanna, suppressing a shiver of revulsion at the sound of the man behind her, looked down to see an assortment of magical artefacts. Rings, necklaces, tools, and scrap pieces of metal littered the table, all with their own arcane glow.
“Hmm…” the voice hummed. “It looks like there isn’t anything of worth there. A pity.” He clicked his tongue. Desperately, she tried to hide the ring in her hand without drawing his attention. She must have been put under some kind of spell, and the ring broke her out of it. She couldn’t let her captor see it.
“Well, no matter,” he continued. “Skin those fish and bring me the scales.”
A tray of grey fish was slid across the table to her, the man reaching around her rigid body. He was close, so close that she could feel his hot breath on her nape. It tickled at her skin as his arms brushed against her. Just don’t draw attention. Just don’t draw attention.
After what felt like an eternity, her captor left to go about whatever it was he did. Lysanna methodically started removing the scales from the fish, hands moving with practised ease around the knife. She had avoided drawing too much attention to herself, so there should be an opportunity to escape somewhere. The slimy man, who she had yet to lay eyes on, believed her completely under his control, and more, that she was made a bit too obedient. His guard would be lowered around her, and she could make her escape should the opportunity arise.
Ten fish and reddened fingertips later, she had a tray full of fish scales. She turned to get a proper look at the cave, searching for the monster who stole her away. Just a couple metres away, rocky stone floor was covered by planks of wood, forming a more comfortable floor. A large but poorly made bed sat in the corner, matted furs strewn haphazardly atop. And opposite, against the wall, stood the hunched figure of the man that Lysanna needed to escape from.
He was tall, notably so even with his bent posture over a worktable. He wore a large black robe with a red inner lining, and from what she could see, he was rather young. Large, clean hands marred only by callouses on the fingers worked a mortar and pestle, grinding up an assortment of flowers, and his long dark hair draped down and framed his face. Despite her own disgust at what the man had done to her — and what he was likely planning on doing, given her state of dress — she had to admit he was rather attractive.
She banished those thoughts from her mind. She just needed to focus on keeping a low profile until she could escape. She slowly approached him, tray in hand. The floorboards creaked beneath her bare feet.
“Just place them on the table,” he ordered in a bored tone. He didn’t even spare a glance her way, simply looking down at his workbench and grinding up ingredients. His guard was completely down.
Her heart thundered in her ears as she gripped the knife tight. The one he so carelessly gave her to skin the fish. All it would take is a single thrust in the right place to kill him, and then she could flee. She raised the blade high.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. Where did she strike? If she missed, he could still fight back and chase after her. The neck then? It was a small target, though, so she might fail. The back was safer. Upper or lower? Lower was easier, but the upper had more vital organs that would debilitate him if she hit them.
The blade hesitated for a moment in its raised position. Did this man truly deserve death? She was pretty sure he had kidnapped her and placed her under a spell, but was that really the truth? She could be condemning an innocent man to death based on a misunderstanding if she was wrong. Maybe she should just go along with it for a bit longer to be sure. Just follow what he told her to do without question.
No! Those thoughts weren’t her own. This man was guilty, that was for certain. He needed to die for her to be free. The voice telling her to obey was a foreign influence, the remnants of the spell suppressed by the ring trying to eat away at her will.
She brought down the knife.
The man whirled around suddenly, piercing blue eyes wide in shock. The blade pierced his shoulder, missing its intended target after he suddenly moved.
“Fuck!” he yelled, blood spurting from the wound.
Lysanna froze in shock. She hadn’t anticipated him to dodge like that. What did she do now? Did she run? Try and stab again?
In her distracted state, she didn’t see the fist come to clock her right in the face. She tumbled to the ground, falling with a thud onto the wood floor. The man pressed down on her, getting on his knees, putting pressure on her shoulders.
“You’re going to pay for that, you little bitch,” he snarled. She tried to get him off of her, but the knees on her shoulders felt like boulders. His large hands wrapped around her throat, squeezing tight.
Lysanna squirmed and thrashed as more pressure was placed on her windpipe. She kicked and scraped to no avail, gagging, and gasping for air with what little passage was allowed through her throat. Black dots danced across her vision as her assailant strangled her, his pretty face contorted in rage and glee. Her protests grew weak, the energy leaving her body as everything went dark. Her hands, gripped around his wrists in desperation, fell to the side.
Suddenly, air flooded her lungs. She gasped and gulped down massive lungsful of oxygen, vision clearing. The man had loosened his grip, staring down at her with satisfaction.
“I don’t know how you managed to break out of my spell, but maybe if I do this, you’ll submit again.”
She panted, mind blurry from the asphyxiation. “Fuck… you,” she gasped out.
His gleeful expression dropped to a cold neutrality. His hands tightened around her neck again, and the whole process repeated. Her body was already exhausted from the previous round, so there was nothing she could do to stop him this time either. And while he choked her and watched her flop about on the floor, he ranted.
“You don’t deserve freedom! You were nothing more than a common bitch before I found you! Walking around on the streets with a body like that, you’re a simple slut! I just showed you how you should act, like how all should treat me. Just submit and serve like you’re meant to, you filthy whore!”
With each sentence, something pinged in the back of her mind. The commands he gave resonated with the spell that still lingered, and it tried forcing her to comply. Luckily, the ring on her finger blocked every one of them, no matter how weak she grew from the repeated strangulations.
Finally, he let go of her throat, allowing her to breathe fully. She coughed and spluttered with her heaving breaths, unable to move even when he got off her shoulders. Her limbs felt heavy and tingling, every movement sending an excruciating yet numb pain all through her body.
“Fuck. What a waste,” her captor muttered. “Now I’ll have to find a new test subject, and I wasn’t even able to use this one.” He looked over her. “Although,” he said with a sly grin, “I could still find one use for you.”
He kneeled down again, this time resting his knees on either side of her torso. She once again struggled to escape, but she didn’t have the strength to wriggle out from under him. He leaned close and whispered into her ear. She felt a flush go through her body at the feeling of his breath on her skin.
“Let me tell you all about what I do here. You see, I’m experimenting with a certain potion, one that will unlock the first step to immortality. Only, the trials may be lethal, and results differ if you’ve already had one before. So, I need test subjects, right? That’s where you come in.” He started tracing a slender finger up her bare arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “A simple mind control spell on an unsuspecting victim makes for an easy test subject, and this place is remote enough that no one will ever find us. And when I saw you, I just couldn’t resist.”
He ran his hand over her cheek, and she jerked her head to the side in disgust. He tutted. “But you just had to ruin things. The test potion won’t be ready for another eight hours, and you can cause too much trouble in that time, so I have to get rid of you. And I think you know perfectly well what that means.”
Lysanna’s heart pounded. She was going to die. He was going to kill her and dump her body somewhere unless she escaped.
“But don’t worry, there’s something else I’m going to do before the end. See, I pick out very particular test subjects for one special reason. If they survive the test, I don’t really have a use for them anymore, and I need to dispose of them. But I figure, why not put them to another use for a bit?” He leered and drew close, hand coming up to her one clothed shoulder, pushing the ragged cloth to the side. “You get what I mean?”
She sat completely still, frozen in fear. The ripped shirt began to be pushed down, the slight modesty she still had in it being quickly taken away. With a loud tearing sound, he ripped the item off of her, leaving her with nothing covering her large breasts.
“Ah, wonderful. You know, you rebelling is almost a blessing in disguise. Normally, I’d lessen the mind control for this part, so my slaves are fully aware of what’s going to happen to them, but you’ve done that part for me!”
Lysanna bit back the retort that sprung to mind. If she said anything now, he might start choking her again, and that was the worst outcome, save for outright killing her. If he was kept happy, there might still be a chance to escape.
The man started kneading her breasts, hands sinking into the mounds. Her body felt hot under his ministrations as he struggled to capture the entire breast in each hand. He started to slowly move his hips as he toyed with her. She could see a bulge forming and pressing up against his robes.
“Oh? You interested?” he taunted, noticing where her eyes had gone. “Well, I suppose I can let you know what you are getting into.”
He peeled back the folds of his robes, and a thick rod slapped down on her chest. It twitched and leaked liquid onto her body, veins wrapping around the member like vines. She swallowed thickly. It was huge, bigger than she thought possible, and it didn’t even seem fully erect yet.
The man continued squeezing her tits, this time rubbing his hardening dick along her stomach as he did so. He shuffled up until it sat in the valley between her peaks, and he enveloped in in her breasts.
She squirmed a bit as he thrust his dick between her breasts, hips bucking. She could feel it twitch against her and grow even stiffer, until it began to poke out the top of her tits. She couldn’t look away as the man pleasured himself using her body for a titfuck, until the head of his cock, glistening wet, brushed up against her lips.
Her heart quivered at the touch. Her body felt unnaturally hot, like she was trapped in a sauna, and it was making it hard to think. She looked away as the tip pushed closer, seeking to enter her mouth.
“Do it,” he commanded. “Or else…” he raised a hand which caught on fire. “Well, I think you get the idea.”
She glared at him and swallowed her fear, turning back to face the monstrous rod of meat ahead of her. It pressed forward onto her lips, leaving her breasts behind, and she gradually opened her mouth to let it in.
As soon as the salty taste of precum ran over her tongue, her mind grew clearer. A chorus of voices in the back of her mind chanting every order he had given her — suck his dick, be a slut, obey, obey, obey — silenced, leaving room to think. They weren’t loud enough to control her, the ring made sure of that, but they weren’t fully blocked out either. So long as she obeyed for now, she could find a way to escape.
She never stopped glaring at him as he prodded the inside of her mouth, pressing against her cheeks, running along her tongue, and seeing how far he could go before she gagged. He pushed nearly three quarters of his length into her mouth before she tried to jerk back, tears springing to her eyes.
He let out some grunts as she sucked his dick, letting her tongue dance around it as it ravaged her. This was all to satisfy the order of being a slut, nothing more. If she degraded herself and accepted his cock in any way, the voice would stop, and she could think clearly.
The man grabbed the sides of her head and jerked her forward. She gagged as he went to her limit before he pushed even further. Her lips were brought to his base, her nose being tickled with his pubic hair as his massive cock penetrated her throat.
She groaned in protest, trying to pull back and get some air, but his hold was tight. He let out a satisfied moan with every protest her made, the vibrations in her throat bringing him pleasure. She pushed with all her might, tapped his thighs, kicked out her legs, and writhed under his larger frame as her airflow was blocked, but her didn’t let up. Once more, she was being asphyxiated, only this time, instead of rough hands crushing her throat, it was a penis being shoved down her.
Just as she began seeing stars dance across her vision, he let go and let her breathe, shuddering, spluttering coughs wracking her body as trails of saliva ran from her mouth to his penis. And yet, despite all the choking and violation, she felt a burning sensation in her crotch.
Why? Why was she feeling this way? She acknowledged that he was an attractive man, with a great dick to boot, but she shouldn’t find this enjoyable in any way. She was being forced against her will, treated like a toy, only going along with it because of some stupid mind control spell.
The spell. That must be it. Her ring protected her mind, but her body was still responding to his orders. Making her desire him. She just had to endure a little longer, and it will be over then. Once he was dead, she would stop desiring his body. At the very least, it will be a less painful experience this way.
“I think that’s enough foreplay,” he said with a smile. “Let’s move on to the main course.”
She shuddered at the thought in both revulsion and anticipation as he roughly picked her up by the arm and dragged her over to the bed. She had to be practically carried there, her legs unable to support her own body. The bed stank terribly, the smell of old sex coating the furs. Just how many girls had this man raped in this bed? How many enjoyed it as he railed them like no tomorrow?
Lysanna crossed her legs as she was laid down, denying him access as much as she could. The voices in her head complained at the action, but she wanted to preserve this part of her modesty. The man didn’t even care, placing a knee on her pelvis and forcing his way between her legs.
Her heart was racing a million miles a minute as his slick, throbbing dick rested on her crotch. Her body yearned for him, obeying his commands despite her mind. She grew wet in arousal, liquid dripping out of her pussy.
Her captor wasn’t a caring man, not checking if she was prepared before placing his rock-hard member at her entrance. She shook, eyes glued to the rod as it prodded her. The heat was unbearable, and her mind was filled with thoughts of what it would be like. Would she cum? How quickly could he make her orgasm? How long could he last? She didn’t want to think those thoughts, but they came unbridled regardless.
The tip pushed past her lower lips, sending a jolt of electricity to her brain. He pushed in slowly, tantalisingly, stretching her out and making her mind go fuzzy. It felt better than she expected. She thought there would be some pain as her tore her open, his size dwarfing all other partners that had explored her caverns, but all she felt was pleasure.
He pulled out a bit, only fitting half of his length inside as he made slow, meaningful thrusts. She held back the moans that built up inside, resisting the blinding pleasure that struck her with each stroke. The voice in her head screamed in protest. A slut doesn’t hold back.
She hesitated for only a moment before letting out a scream of ecstasy. Her mind felt so much clearer with her loud moans that went in time with the quickening pace. He pushed deeper inside, so she moaned louder, voice hoarse from the rough facefucking she had endured earlier.
“You’re a little slut, aren’t you?” he taunted as he pounded her in an ever-increasing pace. “I knew I was right about you, bitch.” He pulled out a dagger and cut off the scraps of cloth that had clung to her before stabbing the blade down into the bedside table.
He pushed his dick fully inside, and her back arched. He continued going down on her, her fat tits bouncing as the bed creaked dangerously. She let out screams freely as each long and hard thrust sent sparks all through her body.
He was better than she had ever imagined. It wasn’t just the length, but also his technique was exquisite. Each time he rammed into her, her mind went blank, and he hit all her weak spots. He even hit ones she never knew existed.
She bucked her hips in time with him, forming a rhythm of them both thrusting their hips in time. Why was she doing this? The voice telling her to be a slut was quiet still, content with her current actions, so there was no need to do any more.
He slammed their pelvises together, and she was hit with a massive surge. A tightness began to form in her belly, growing over time with every pound. She clung desperately onto her back, clawing and grasping as the feeling grew.
She was doing this because it felt good. Her body wanted him, wanted to be ravaged, wanted to cum. And what her body wanted overrode what her mind wanted in this moment.
The man started rapidly moving in and out bruising her hips with how strongly he moved, and the surges kept coming. Her legs began to shake and wrapped themselves around his body as the squeaking of the bed grew in a crescendo.
“Oh fuck,” she whimpered. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuckfuckfuck!”
She was at her limit, static filling her mind and drowning out all other thoughts. Even the fact she was having sex at all mattered little in that moment as he brought her to the very edge. Nothing else mattered but reaching her climax.
With one final thrust, one of many that kept coming without pause, she let out a scream of, “Fuck!” and tensed. The orgasm ran through her body and tensed up every muscle, from her neck to her legs, to the inside of her aching pussy. Her mind went fully blank, and she stopped paying attention to what her partner was doing. He had brought one hand down to her crotch and started rubbing the clitoris, while the other kneaded a breast, all the while his godlike dick thrust deep inside her.
Lysanna couldn’t tell how long it took her to stop orgasming, but by the time she did, she could already feel the need for more. The man didn’t pause for even a second, bringing her back up to the mind breaking pleasure within seconds.
“…More,” she whispered despite herself.
“Speak up, slut. Say it louder.”
“More.”
“More what?”
“Oh, shit!” she cursed, leaning back in ecstasy. “Fuck me more!”
He obliged her with a laugh, grunting as he ravaged her like it was the last day alive. She let out a constant stream of moans and curses as he continued fucking her in all the right ways. Within seconds, she was at the limit once more, and this time she didn’t hold back.
She screamed with all her might as she came all over his cock, almost fainting from how good it felt. She went limp, muscles all spent in the two consecutive orgasms, and yet he still kept fucking her. The exhaustion overtook the pleasure, and somehow her mind felt clearer than ever.
Her captor started grunting more, holding onto Lysanna’s flesh with an iron grip. His pounding became more animalistic, and she could see his eyes begin to glaze over. Her body quivered in anticipation for what was coming, but her mind overcame.
He let out short moans with each thrust, no longer focused, and she took the opportunity. She used all her remaining strength to dislodge the dagger embedded in the bedside table and shoved it into his neck.
Blood spurted out like a fountain, coating her in sanguinous liquid. His eyes widened in shock and rage. “You… bitch…” he choked out between the blood.
His hand lit up with flames and pressed against her right eye. She screamed in pain this time as the flesh burnt under his hold, but she couldn’t escape the dying man’s throes. She felt the dick inside her grow ungodly hard at the same time, his body seeking to procreate before he expired. She tried to scoot back, but a heavy thrust and his powerful arms pulling her back shoved his dick into her deepest parts.
Her pain mixed with pleasure as the dying beast used her as a sex toy, and despite herself she felt her body opening up to accept him. Just as the light left his eyes, a warmth spurted inside her, a massive load of semen flooding her inner chambers.
She scrambled back, slipping the softening dick out of her, but it was too late. She was completely full of his cum. More erupted from the dying cock, streams covering her stomach and breasts in the hot fluid.
Lysanna sat there, coated in cum and blood, and cried. Too much had just happened. She was raped, she felt pleasure, she had two amazing orgasms, she killed a man, she was filled with his semen.
Be a slut.
The thought hit her once more. No. He’s dead. Why were the thoughts still there?
Be a slut.
She shook in fear. She could resist the thoughts, and the ones saying to obey had gone, but that one remained. If it weren’t for the ring, she would be completely consumed by the order to the point where it would be her entire life.
Be a slut.
Despite her best efforts, her fingers found their way down to her pussy, rubbing against it fervently. She could resist, that was true, but it had been a long day. She was tired. She wiped the cum that covered her body with her fingers, then plunged those same fingers inside of herself.
The voice was quiet again.
She could escape whenever she wanted now. The villain was dead, and she deserved a reward. Tomorrow, she would venture out into the world. But for now?
She would be a slut.