Property

by Renard, Loki

  * * *

  Chloe

  Darko’s cock jackhammers inside me, his flesh making my flesh submit with every hard stroke. This is what I needed all along. I feel as much a toy as any one of the objects in this room, a piece of property for him to spend his seed in, something to be used. It should be a degrading experience, but it isn’t. This is how I will atone. This is the only way I will ever be punished for what I have done. It is the only way I can ever learn, and he understands that.

  I hear his grunts, his animal man sounds as he pulls his cock from me for a moment and leaves me empty to feel the ache of his lost. The little cuts of the cane are ignited with the heightened sensitivity of my body as he drives me closer to orgasm, thrusting his cock all the way inside me, and then pulling all the way out again.

  “You were a bad girl, Chloe,” he grits.

  “Yes,” I moan.

  “You’re not going to be a bad girl anymore, are you?”

  “Nooo...”

  His cock slams inside me to make the point, gives me a series of rough, hard strokes and then pulls free again.

  “You’re going to do as you’re told, be my sweet little fuck toy. You’re going to give me your body whenever I please because it’s mine, isn’t it, Chloe? You’re mine.”

  “Yessss.” My agreement is drawn from me in a sibilant hiss. Yes, I am his. I don’t want to be mine anymore. I don’t want to take on the world. I want to be sheltered from it. In this moment, my mind is so addled with the hormones of lust that I cannot think straight. Everything is fuzzy and remote, except for him. As his cock plunges into my wet pussy again, he becomes the thrusting, powerful, dominant center of my universe.

  “Fuuccckkkkk...” I let out a scream as he fucks me to orgasm. My pleasure is entirely incidental, it just happens to occur as he is thrusting toward his own climax with faster and faster strokes, my body bouncing, my pussy aching as he slams deep one last time and comes with a roar of triumph, pulling me up and back against him, one hand around my throat, squeezing just enough to restrict the easy flow of air as he pumps me full of his cum in spurt after fucking spurt.

  I collapse when he lets me go, my knees no longer supporting me. He lets me slide to the floor and stands over me, my caned and well fucked body curling at his feet. I wrap my arms around his lower leg and make soft sounds like a little wounded animal, giving expression to the part of me that is forever broken, and may never heal.

  “Oh, Chloe,” he says softly from on high. “We’re not done, are we?”

  I shake my head and he picks me up, his big hands wrapped around my arms as he lifts me onto a new piece of equipment, a broader table where I can lie face down, my head through a padded hole, my legs shackled into place, spread with his practiced hands.

  This isn’t over. One orgasm is not enough to take my guilt away, and it is not nearly enough to make my sins up to Darko. I cannot see what he is doing, but I feel him run his fingers over my caned ass before giving it a light slap. I know I am leaking cum all over his table, but he doesn’t care.

  The room spins as he lifts the table up at one end, my face going higher, my bottom going lower. He walks around and presents his cock to me through the hole in the table. “Clean me,” he says, pushing it smoothly into my mouth and giving me no choice but to obey.

  I begin to work my lips and tongue obediently on his shaft, and as I do, I feel something sliding up between my spread thighs. Another toy, and the whirring of a motor. He has strapped me up to a fuck machine, and now a fresh cock is pushing inside my cunt. It is slow, but it is thick, stretching my soft, aching sex one more time.

  I moan around his dick as it starts to fuck me again. Yes. This is what I deserve. Dick forever, sliding in and out of my sore little hole, making me wet and sloppy, using his cum as lubricant.

  Darko’s fingers caress my hair with a light, almost affectionate touch as I suckle on him.

  “Good girl,” he murmurs. “Such a very, very good girl.”

  I feel the glow of his approval as well as the spreading of my cunt, and the taste of myself mixed with him on my tongue. I am a good girl. He will not give me the choice to be anything else.

  “This dungeon is going to become your world,” he says. “Every day, you are going to come down here and pick a new punishment. Every day, I’m going to fuck you. Every day, you’re going to come for me, understand?”

  He pulls his cock free for me to answer, his rod gleaming and clean and hard all over again.

  “Yessir,” I whisper.

  “Good girl.” He smiles that enigmatic handsome smile, and pushes his cock all the way to the back of my throat in a deep thrust. I struggle for breath until he pulls it out again, a second later. He is showing me how my life will be, always dependent on him for everything. For shelter, for food, for safety... his cock slides back in, filling my mouth completely... for air.

  This is as depraved and dangerous as he has ever been, and as my clit begins to tingle with yet another orgasm, my tired, stretched, fucked body being used over and over again by man and machine alike, I love him for it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Darko

  When I took Chloe, I intended to use her, break her, make her mine. When I got her back from her little escape, I just wanted her to be okay. But the Order is not done with me, and it is definitely not done with her. My fuck punishments do nothing to sate their desire to control Chloe.

  Our fallen brother has been mourned by the division of his influence. His cousin will take his place at the table, a man who does not miss him and does not bear Chloe any ill will. But the Order has sent an envoy to my home.

  A friend.

  Roland.

  It’s hard to describe Roland. I usually don’t. He wears his blond hair long, at least longer than I would. It hits his shoulders in a golden mane. He has the flair of Fabio, and the soul of a slaver. Every bit of his beauty is reflected in equal measure in his darkness. He is handsome, but that only carries weight with the women he takes for a short while. They soon see past the handsome looks to the soul beneath, and then they find him as repulsive as it is possible to find a man.

  “Get the hell out of here,” Chloe seethes as he strolls into the living room.

  “Quiet, you,” Roland smirks at her. He has an easy way with women. Even the most beautiful among them do not intimidate him. He has broken far too many to see any female as more than a collection of sex holes and soft flesh.

  “Didn’t you hear what happened to the last member of the Order I met?” She comes right back with a threat. I can’t fucking believe it. For the last week I have punish fucked her every single day, and yet at the first sight of a member of the Order, it’s like I’ve done nothing to her at all.

  “Chloe!” I snap her name. She has been so obedient down in the dungeon, but when she finds the light, the lessons have a harder time sticking. It is one thing to sexually break a woman, to train her to your desire. It is something else entirely to have her carry that attitude into the every day.

  She gives me a smoldering glare. Her reaction to Roland is one of visceral hatred. I see it written on her gorgeous face, and I realize that the Order is right to be worried. When she and I are alone, she regrets her actions. But the mere sight of Roland and she is ready to kill again.

  “I heard, girl,” Roland says, his pale eyes running up and down her form in a way I find far too familiar. “Do you want me to be afraid of you, is that it?”

  “You should be,” she hisses.

  “Well,” Roland smirks, turning to me. “I’m convinced that she’s one hundred percent rehabilitated. No problems here whatsoever. Let’s turn her loose in the world.”

  “Chloe! Go to the bedroom. Now!” I snap the orders at her and she goes, but the damage is already done. I grit my teeth and think of the things I will do to her to teach her not to speak so foolishly and out of turn.

  Roland pours himself a drink. “She’s still trouble, Darko.”

  “I know.”
>
  “You like her too much to break her. It happens sometimes. You should send her to me. I’ll have her submissive in a matter of days. She won’t be capable of even thinking of lifting a finger against us.”

  The thought of his hands on her makes me seethe. “There is no fucking way you will ever touch that girl while I am alive.”

  “Okay, well, if you don’t like that plan, there is another way that might work.”

  “What’s that?”

  He takes a long sip of his drink. “You understand, Darko, this is not about revenge. It is a concern we have that she may decide to further her revenge at a later date. It would not be inconceivable that she could regularly escape, pick us off one by one, and return to your loving arms.”

  “And what do you suggest?”

  “Long-term captivity and confinement. In other words...” Roland’s mouth spreads in a smile. “Marriage.”

  “Marriage? What would that change?”

  “Not just marriage.” Roland shakes his finger at me. “Children. Lots of them. Fill her belly with baby after baby. It is the best and most effective way to destroy a woman.”

  He really is an asshole. But I knew that already. I say nothing, as he says more than enough for us both.

  “Put some babies in her and within months she will be helpless. Big, swollen. At your mercy. And then once the baby is born she will be bloodied and broken, and the thing will scream all night. Then put another one in her. And another. She’ll love them because she won’t have a choice. She’ll fear for them like she has never feared for herself. A decade will go by and she will hardly notice it. Babies, Darko,” he says, pointing his glass at me. “That’s how you get control.”

  “And if I don’t want to marry her?”

  “You want to marry her,” he smirks. “That’s the best part of this plan. This is what you want to do anyway. Think of it, Darko, a nice home, a loving wife you can fuck whenever you please, and a gaggle of spawn who think you’re the best guy in the whole gosh darn world.”

  He’s a sarcastic fuck, but he’s a smart one, and he’s right. I do want Chloe. Forever. But I never considered myself a family man. I know too much about this dark world to want to put more souls in it.

  “Also,” he says casually. “If you don’t marry her, we’ll kill her.”

  Glass breaks, splinters fly, wood cracks as I throw myself at Roland and beat the shit out of him, my fists flying fast and hard, meeting his face, his abdomen. My knee finds his crotch, and my shin meets his thigh. I beat him relentlessly, until his nose is broken, his eyes are bruised, and he is gurgling his own blood.

  “Don’t you ever threaten her,” I growl, my voice thick with my old accent. Roland is my friend, but I will kill him with my bare hands if I have to. I will do it in an instant if it means protecting Chloe.

  “I’m not threatening her,” he says, turning his head to spit a gob of blood onto the floor. “I’m warning you. Marry her. Make her a housewife. A mother. Remove her as a threat. Or we will.”

  “Fucking asshole.”

  “Yeah, no news there. You want to hit me again, or do you want to go propose to your lovely bride to be?”

  I sit back, panting, coated in a spray of my friend’s blood. I’ll give Roland credit, he can take pain and not give a fuck about it. There are no hard feelings from him, even though he knows I hate him in this moment. Emotions slide off the man like water. I don’t think he even recognizes them except as ways to manipulate others. And ultimately, he’s right. None of this is complete until I marry Chloe. Legally, emotionally, physically, I need her to be mine.

  “Daa daa da da da dum dum daa da da dum da daa...” He hums the wedding march from the floor, laughing even with his face broken open. “Oh, it’s going to be beautiful. ‘Do you, murderous little wench, take this evil billionaire in holy wedded matrimony?’”

  I get up, grab a napkin and throw it at him. “Get out of here,” I say. “Before I fucking kill you.”

  He smirks and rises to his feet. “I’ll be checking the wedding announcements with great interest, Darko. You want a toaster for a present? Or a fruit bowl?”

  I hate this fucker, but he makes me smile. “Seriously. Get the fuck out.”

  Roland gives me a lazy salute and stumbles toward the exit, not quite steady on his feet. I think I might have burst his eardrum. Oh, well.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Darko

  “Is he still here?”

  Chloe snaps the question when I go to see her. I’ve changed my shirt and washed Roland’s blood off me. I don’t want the sight of violence to trigger her.

  “He’s gone, and in the future, Chloe, you will treat my guests with res—” Ah, fuck it. I can’t bring myself to tell Chloe to respect Roland. “He’s leaving.”

  “Didn’t even stay for a drink. What a pity.”

  There’s spite in her voice, real fiery hatred. Roland is gone, but his idea lingers. Marriage. Babies. I have thought about both, though I wouldn’t admit it to myself until now. He and the Order are right. Chloe needs something of more substance to be settled. She needs something to invest in. Her father is gone and I have assumed control of her assets. She has nothing, and that makes her dangerous, to herself and others. I can’t spend every day of my life fucking her into submission. I’m going to have to do some work eventually.

  “What do you want in the future, Chloe?”

  The question seems to surprise her. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, what kind of future do you see for yourself?”

  “Leather and whips and probably some kind of weird fuck machine,” she shrugs.

  “I mean more than that. I mean, long, long term. Family. Do you want family?”

  “Are you asking me if I want kids, Darko?”

  “Yes.”

  She looks at me incredulously. “I don’t want them in this situation. How would that even work?” She puts on a sweet, high-pitched voice. “Okay, sweeties, Mommy has to go be whipped and fucked in the ass now, and oh, Daddy is off to his evil cabal meeting, now you two be good.”

  I allow myself a smile. “Two?”

  “A boy and a girl. The boy grows up to be a war criminal. The girl grows up to poison the president of Pakistan. Oh, sure, Darko. I just dream of having a family with a madman who can’t offer any kind of real love or affection.” Her tone gets more sarcastic and hits a higher pitch with every passing word.

  I grit my teeth and keep my expression impassive. So that’s what she thinks of me. Even now. I have been harsh with her. I have punished her, but it has been for her own good, every bit of it. I thought she understood that. I thought her submission meant something. Now I see that it doesn’t. There’s nothing deeper to her connection with me than her need for orgasm and pain.

  “Are you going to turn your sex dungeon into a romper room? Replace the fuck bench with a pool table?”

  “It doesn’t have to be all or nothing, Chloe.”

  “So you want babies,” she says, pointing a finger at me and then at herself. “With me.”

  “Maybe I do.”

  “I’m a murderer, Darko. A fucking murderer. I shot a man, in cold blood. And god only fucking knows what you’ve done in your fucked-up life. And you think we can be parents? To human children?”

  “There have been worse parents, I’m sure.”

  “Well, yeah, real race to the bottom, isn’t it.” She crosses her arms and presses her lips together. “If you try to knock me up against my will...”

  “Even I’m not that fucked up, Chloe.”

  * * *

  Chloe

  “Oh!” I throw my hands in the air. “Oh, I see. Now we’ve finally found a limit of yours. Took us long enough!”

  I hate the way he is looking at me. I hate the fact that I can see actual disappointment written in his eyes and on that beautiful brutal face of his. I hate that he would ask this of me, and not be able to see why I could never, would never say yes.

  “Think ab
out it,” he says, reaching out to take my hands in his. “We can make something good between us. Something innocent and pure. It would be a chance to make the wrongs we have committed right.”

  “That’s what every narcissistic asshole thinks,” I say bitterly. “Oh, we’ll make it better, they’ll be better. But they won’t be. They’ll have our genes and they’ll be raised by us. A captive mother and an evil father. They wouldn’t stand a chance.”

  He drops my hands. “You think I’m evil.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  Darko’s face turns blank and cold. He gives a curt nod. “Very well, Chloe. No kids. But we are getting married.”

  My anger flares again. “Uh, no, we’re fucking not! Don’t you think I should have a say in that? Isn’t it traditional to, you know, ask a woman if she wants to be your bride?”

  He gives me a dark look that chills me to my core. “Evil men don’t make marriage proposals, Chloe. They take what they want. You’re to stay in this room until we leave.”

  “Darko...”

  He turns and walks away.

  “Darko!”

  The door shuts behind him. I hear it lock.

  “Darko!” I slam my hands against the door. It’s useless. He’s gone.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chloe

  I never imagined my wedding day taking place on a windswept rocky island, forced to pledge myself to a man without any choice in the matter.

  Darko stands next to me, handsome in his tuxedo, as unyielding as the rocks themselves. He has barely spoken a word to me since the day I told him I wouldn’t bear his spawn, and he has touched me only to take me where he wishes me to go. I wonder if he hates me now. Actually no, I don’t wonder. I know. I can feel the absence of whatever modicum of care he managed to muster for me. It is gone. Never to return. And I am here, about to promise to be his until death parts us.

  My dress is white lace, a long skirt and train billowing in the rough sea winds. It’s pretty, but it doesn’t matter. There is no photographer. We will never look back on this moment in fond memory. This is a false transaction with a dead god, and nothing more.