Unorthodox Chemistry

by Lilah E. Noir

  I stopped to admire the cloud that was embracing the moon. There was something hypnotizing about its pale shining and the peculiar, faint shadows it cast down on the water. Earlier that day the wind had been whipping me like a furious lover. The wide-open sky and gray ocean made all my anxieties implode. They were laughing, cold and indifferent to my petty drama, to how insignificant I was. Their cruel hissing and loud roar broke any willpower I had left.

  Hours later, in the embrace of darkness and gloom, with the soft glow of the night, and the quiet whisper of the distant waves, I felt something new, a sensation I hadn't had in months, maybe years.

  Comfort.

  I'd been on a crazy roller coaster ride until I was too dizzy to go on.

  Suddenly, everything slowed down. The agony was beginning to fade. For the first time, after hitting such a low point, my inner world was finding its center. Confidence was driving out the fear.

  I was all alone on a dark and lonely beach where a thousand dangers could lurk in all directions, yet I didn't think of the Procedure at all.

  If only it had been summer I would have stayed longer, stared into the distance and taken in all the consolation the austere landscape offered me. The storm may have quieted down but the air was still freezing. The cold was slowly battering through my thick coat and wool dress. Soon, I'd have to go back to the house.

  Still, it wouldn't hurt to spend a few more beautiful moments in the dark. I wrapped my arms around myself and slowly turned back. The sand scrunched under the weight of my boots.

  While I was making my way back, something caught my attention. All the houses along the beach strip were dark, without any sign of life. Thomas and I must've been the only visitors.

  The thought of our solitude filled me with some worry but this time it didn't have me in a choke hold. I even allowed myself to think our isolation was romantic.

  The rest of the world could wait.

  We were all alone and that was beautiful.

  I kept walking at a steady pace and hugged myself as the cold seeped into my bones. Perhaps we could have a nice last night before we went back to reality. Hot chocolate and cuddling in front of the fire followed by slow and sensual lovemaking, if we had any strength left at all.

  That idea made me smile as I made my way up the pebbled path from the beach to the front porch. The house was dark and looked abandoned, and that made me frown a little. Had Thomas gone out? Perhaps he'd gone to buy something we had forgotten yesterday. The supermarket would be closed by this time, though...

  The hair on the back of my neck rose when I unlocked the front door and I nearly ran out in a rush of panic. It was way too quiet. My self-preservation instinct went on full alert. Still, I took a deep breath and moved inside with my heart beating like a drum.

  "Thomas? Are you here?" I called out and reached out for the light switch.

  I never saw the dark figure or heard them move behind me. The moment I became aware of their presence was when they clapped their hand over my mouth, tugged me hard by the hair and forced me to kneel.

  Too late.

  You should have followed The Procedure.

  "Don't make a sound or I'll cut your fucking throat," a low, growling voice hissed in my ear. I cried out when the stranger pressed a blade to my throat, close enough that I felt the cold metal. Not so close that it would break the skin. "Be a good girl and I won't hurt you. Do you understand?"

  It was a man, tall and strong. He'd overpowered me without any effort and was a mere hair's width away from slicing my throat open. He released my mouth and I let out a shaky gasp.

  "W-who are you? Seth?" I whispered lowly, as if a cat had gotten my throat. The anonymous hand tugged my hair so hard he nearly ripped it out. The knife dug a little deeper but still not close enough to make me bleed. Yet red, painful lines were forming. I knew he could make good on his threats with just one push.

  "It's not important who I am, bitch." He held the knife tighter and spat in my face. I shivered in disgust but horror was a stronger emotion in that instant. "You keep your mouth shut and don't speak unless I allow you to."

  His hot breath was coming from above me when he yanked my hair harder. I couldn't help the thrill that went through my subdued, pinned body and closed my eyes in the hope it would pass.

  "Don't get any ideas and don't try to play dumb," he hissed, and ran the blade up my throat in an almost delicate way. The sharp edge stroked my goose pimpled skin. A rough caress. "You know all the houses around are empty. No one will hear you scream. Even if there's someone out there, you will have bled to death by the time they arrive. So have no illusions... I own you tonight. Do you understand, cunt?'

  No, no, this couldn't be happening again. Was it Seth? Some burglar raiding the empty houses over the winter?

  Thomas, where are you?

  A whirlwind of horror blew my mind when it dawned on me how real this threat was. He had the power and its weight was as tangible as the hand that was fisting my braided hair and forcing me to arch my head back.

  My captor didn't give me a lot of time to contemplate. He let go of my hair and gave me a rough, backhanded slap. His knuckles left a burning sensation in my cheekbone as I cried out in pain.

  "I asked you a question, slave. You're my slave now. The sooner you get it into your head, the better for you." His mocking, cruel voice was still as low. The hiss of a snake. The same hiss that kept me awake night after night. "Now, tell me--do you understand?"

  The smarting in my eyes wouldn't stop. They watered with the harsh blow of his hand against my face. I finally spoke with a shaking voice in a struggle not to burst into tears.

  He wouldn't get that satisfaction.

  Would he? The terror was choking me. My personal demon had finally caught up with me and demanded retribution.

  It was him.

  No doubt.

  And I was all alone.

  "Y-yes..."

  "Good little whore." His laughter boomed throughout the empty house. I nearly cried with relief when he withdrew the knife from my throat. There were a few stinging lines but no blood trickled down my neck. "That's what little bitches like you deserve--proper handling and taming by a real man."

  Again, the stranger didn't let me revel in my survival for too long. He grabbed me by the hair and dragged me across the floor. It was smooth, polished wood. I'd spent most of the previous evening crawling on it. It wouldn't scratch my knees but he was pulling me so hard I felt bruises forming there. His grip was hard and it was useless to even try to escape. He was yanking my helpless body without any effort as if I were a rag doll.

  "Please, I can walk. I won't try to escape," I whispered pitifully and couldn't stop my tears anymore. My heart was all the way up in my throat, and I gasped when he halted and pushed me to lie on my stomach on the floor. His strong palm pinned me against the ground and his boot pinned the small of my waist.

  "Where is the fun in that? Also, I told you to keep your mouth shut. You have no right to demand or plead. I'll take what is mine."

  He pulled my disheveled braid again harder to bring me up to a kneeling position. There was no way to hold my tears back.

  I wasted too much of my strength when I tried not to cry.

  The stranger kept dragging my trembling body for who knows how long. The pitch-black darkness made it difficult to figure out where he was taking me.

  Whatever peace I had found down on the beach had been cruelly snatched away, and the black night was once again a nightmare.

  He pushed a door open and dragged me into a room. The moon had risen above the clouds and its beams were sneaking through the window. It was a faint light but strong enough to help me see we were in my bedroom. The door slammed behind me, and there was no time to cry in protest before he grabbed me by the throat and forced me to get up.

  "Get naked. Fast." He leaned forward to keep the harsh whisper in my ear. "If you're not naked in five minutes, I'll cut them from you. I'll also make sure to carve your se
xy skin with my blade. Do you understand? Say, 'Yes, Master'."

  The words stuck at the back of my throat but I forced them out, still trembling like a leaf. There was no point in making it worse for myself.

  "Yes, Master."

  "Get moving." He slapped my ass hard and pulled away from me. The hit was so strong I felt it on my skin even through the thick protective layers of my coat and dress. Soon, I'd be deprived of those defenses.

  My back was turned to him but I could still feel his eyes burning a hole through me when I started stripping with shaking hands.

  "Faster." Another slap followed when I removed my coat and dropped it on the floor. When my thighs pressed together, I realized there was a very thin streak of wetness trickling down through my panties. "We don't have all night."

  Would he just tie me up and leave?

  Would he rape me?

  "When you're done, lie on the bed. Flat on your stomach. Spread your legs and arms. Eyes down. Don't move or you'll be sorry. These sheets will look beautiful soaked in your blood."

  These words broke the weird, abnormal arousal just like the knife he'd threatened to slice me with. When I pulled the dress over my head and remained in my bra and panties, the lust came back full force, as much as it didn't make sense.

  I was about to undo my bra when he called out with a louder, more authoritative voice, "Stop. Let me help you here." Without another word, he slid the blade under the back clasp and cut it. The lingerie fell off my breasts and hung, useless. I let it drop to the floor. "Don't think I won't use the knife if you misbehave, slave."

  He kept sliding the knife down my spine while I was taking the rest of my clothes off. The house was warm but none of the heat was getting to me. A drop of cold sweat was streaming down my back and it fell all over his blade.

  "Well, aren't you a beautiful whore? Maybe you think you can seduce me? That your looks give you an advantage?"

  His first slap on my bare skin, still tender after last night, landed straight between my ass cheeks and thighs. The stranger had no patience. The moment I was fully naked, he pushed me down on the bed and pressed my head against the pillow.

  "Tonight, I'll teach you an important lesson you'll never forget," he said, and placed the knife against my back. "One wrong move and I'll stick it between your ribs." His free hand lay down on my exposed cheek and pinned me in a hard, smothering move.

  The stranger didn't wait for me. He grabbed my wrists and brought them close to the bedposts. I stared at the wall ahead and tried to figure out what to do. It was difficult to think when my head still pounded from his rough slap. The white noise was buzzing in my head.

  The rough texture of hemp rope bit at my wrist, and next thing I knew, the stranger had tied them to the bedposts. For the first time, I dared to turn my head and tried to make out his features in the darkness. There was little point. The moonlight was way too weak a lantern for me to see anything other than faint shadows. His face was covered with a black mask, with just slits for the eyes and mouth.

  He must've noticed I was looking at him and chuckled while he moved to bind my ankles as well.

  "Oh, you poor slut. I already told you it won't save you if you know who I am. Spare your efforts."

  My attempts to recognize him were as futile as trying to move my wrists or shimmy out of the scratching rope cuffs. Whoever he was, he was fantastic at bondage. The knots bit into my skin and were tied so hard to the posts even the slightest movement made them sting me harder.

  The stranger ran his hands along my thighs until he brushed my exposed pussy lips. It made me fight harder no matter how much it hurt. The slick wetness was gathering across his fingertips and he laughed, a deep, dark, sardonic laughter that sent shivers down my spine. I hated myself for it but the strong pulsations through my clit grew even more intense.

  "My my, what do we have here? I'm forcing myself on you and you're getting wet?" His free hand wrapped around my brain and forced me to raise my head. I faced his black mask and throbbed with discomfort and shameful lust when he kept teasing and tapping my most sensitive spots. "Who the hell are you? A horny little rape slut? Does it feel when I brutalize and manhandle you? Fucking whore."

  The emotional sting and the horror were bad enough. When he shoved two fingers inside me, I screamed out, both sick and horny at the same time. The betrayal of my body and the way it responded to his violent touch were breaking me on the inside.

  I gritted my teeth. The avalanche of grief, lust, and shame overwhelmed me, and soon I was sobbing. The stranger laughed harder and kept groping me, fondling my flesh as if he had every right to it.

  "Oh God, you're a fucking disgrace." His warm spit hit my back, right over the knife's blade. "Look at you--no better than any cock sucking cum hungry slut. Nothing but a mindless slave. Say what you are."

  He removed his fingers from my cunt and used them to slap me in the face and spread my fluids all over. The sore spot from his previous blow was still pounding. The humiliation left me sobbing even harder and mixed the juices with tears. Another slap on the ass made the rising welts worse. Any rational thoughts were giving way to the pain.

  "Say it," the stranger hissed and squeezed my chin.

  "Fuck you," I spat in response and blinked the tears away. His claws sank into my skin, leaving a white-hot sensation behind. "What do you even want from me, you sick psycho?"

  "Isn't it obvious?" He laughed and wrapped a hand around my throat in a chokehold. "You need to learn your place in life. It's time to start living like the slave bitch you were meant to be. You want it."

  The man moved his fingers down my shoulders and picked up the knife again. I screamed in genuine horror when he rubbed it against the sensitive skin between my legs, its edge brushing all my delicate spots. It would take one wrong move for him to mutilate me.

  "No, stop it. Why are you doing this?" I pressed my cheek against the pillow in the hope I'd escape or find it was just another bad dream. Another pitch black abyss of horror and lust. The knife that was drawing invisible lines over my pussy was real, just like the breath of the sadist wielding it. Where was Thomas when I needed him? "I..."

  "God, you're really a very stupid bitch, aren't you?" I felt his claws all over my body, leaving a cruel red line. "You'll break. Have no doubt about it. It can happen the easy or the hard way but I'll make you see how fucking worthless you really are. Your life will be so much better when you admit what a disgusting animal you are."

  A flash lit in the darkness. He directed the torch at my face and blinded me with the sick white light. My wrists tensed in the cruel bondage. I kept screaming, thrashing back and forth while the painful beams sliced straight through my brain. The memory of a similar cold light rushed back and woke up all I'd been trying to sweep under the rug.

  There must be a way to stop him.

  Infinite ways.

  Another slap brought me back to reality. He turned off the torch and slid his fingers deep into my throat.

  Would it be so bad if I gave him what he demanded?

  The world was getting blurrier while he was choking me and stealing my breath.

  Make it stop.

  "Admit it." His cruel grasp tightened around my neck, and he brought his masked face closer. The eyes looking at me through slits were dark and barely visible. The hissing voice chilled me even worse than the wind outside. "Say you're a submissive nasty bitch and everyone with a little power can have your needy holes."

  Nausea got to me, as intense as the paces of emotional pain he was putting me through. My heart was an open wound in that moment when he landed another harsh slap to my cheek.

  The man's limited patience was running out. His anger was growing ugly, out of control, and any attempt at keeping his temper was thrown out the window.

  "Fucking say it, slave. Don't make it worse for yourself. Or is that what you want?" He pressed his warm lips to my ear. "I'll break you properly like you deserve."

  I closed my eyes and let the dar
kness fully encase me, just like I had down on the beach. The ice-cold chill filled my mind. The abnormal lust was distorting my senses but when I spoke, my voice was whipping.

  "You can never break me."

  "Oh, yes? Brave words from a woman who gets wet from a beating." The knife went back into his hand and he ran it across my cheeks. "You're already broken. You just need someone to finish you off. Why fight when you were born to be used and abused?"

  Before I could wrap my mind around a response, my captor dropped the knife and raised himself in an abrupt movement. It happened so fast I couldn't see what he was doing until the first cruel bite of the cane fell across my ass.

  "You still think I can't break you?"

  The pain rose across my back and thighs along with the welts from yesterday. The hits felt violent and yet strangely intimate, leaving rough marks that would stay for a while. The edge of the cane slid between my thighs and I knew it'd get soaked. All the lines forming pulsed with the intensity of his strikes.

  His hand moved with skill but the potent rage was stronger. If he could have whipped me with his voice, I'd have bled all over.

  "You make a fine canvas. Such a perfect toy." His voice was almost passionate when he hit me again.

  "You can never break me," I hissed and tried to think through the haze in my brain. When I spoke out loud, I realized I was trying to convince myself more than him. "I might be a whore but pain makes me stronger. You'll always be a sad, pathetic freak. Come on, show me your worst."

  "Fucking slut." The cane clattered on the ground and rolled across the smooth floor. My mind embraced the agony. I was slowly getting lost as I tried to shed the fear. He grabbed me by the hair again and kissed my spine with the edge of his blade, nearly cutting the skin. "I'll teach you respect."

  He spat on my back and moved the cold metal back to my throat. His fingers found my soaked pussy again.

  "Go ahead," I hissed. Would that be it? Would he put an end to this with a slit across my throat? Fear possessed my mind and I closed my eyes when he grabbed the handle tighter. "Do it. You can't hurt me anymore."