Status: Complete :')
Note to Self: Just Breathe
Extremely R-Rated! Contains Rape!
After that Cohen untied me from the bed but kept my hands tied together. He pulled me off the bed and I hit the floor with a thump. Pain soared through my body and Cohen sighed, putting his hands under my arms to lift me up. I flinched away from him and went to take another step from him, and another pain shot through my body.
“G-get away f-from me,” I slurred.
“I’ll do what I like,” he spat. He moved towards me and swung me into his arms. I moaned from the pain and tried to get out of his arms, but he just clung on to me tighter. “Wanna know what we are going to go for the rest of the night? Mine and Scarlett’s room. You will really enjoy it in there.” I didn’t understand what he meant. Their room wasn’t really any different from mine or my parents.
When we reached their room Cohen took me into their closet. It wasn’t really a closet; it was sort of a small bedroom type thing that led to their room. I was always under the impression that Scarlett used it for all her clothes, however when we got in there I realised how wrong I was.
Ropes and chains dangled off the ceiling so one could be tied in an awkward position. There was a thin, narrow table placed in the centre of the small room and various types of handcuffs dotted around the room.
He took me inside, placing me on a table. He got a bottle of water from somewhere and handed it to me, also putting a tablet in my hand. “It’s paracetemol,” he told me. I put the pill to the back of my throat, swallowing it without the water.
He took the bottle from my hand and threw it across the room. He then proceeded to lift me up and take me across the room, lifting my hands up and tying them to a rope hanging off the ceiling so my arms were above my head. I began to feel woozy, like I had no control over my body. I wanted to tell him to let me go, but I couldn’t manage it. It was then I figured it was that tablet he had given me. It wasn’t paracetemol; it was the date-rape drug.
He then picked my legs up, wrapping them around his waist, holding me in place by grabbing my buttocks and holding me to him. I felt him enter me and inside I was screaming, but I gave no reaction on the outside. Cohen smirked at me. “I see that drugs already taking effect.” and as if to prove his point, rammed into me. He continued like that, until once again, I felt him cum inside of me. The nerve! He wasn’t even using a condom. I know I was on the pill, but I had forgotten to take one the other week. I could still get pregnant.
He moved away from me quickly, simply letting my legs drop and my body scream in protest. He undid all the ropes on my hand, instead opting to use a pair of handcuffs which bent my arms backwards in a painful position. He forced me to lean on the table so my torso was on it but my legs were free, before he tied my legs apart onto the table legs.
I felt him force himself inside of my arsehole and my mouth didn’t move at all. He would continually pull his dick out before thrusting it back in, until he had set a rhythm. It wasn’t as painful anymore; he had done his damage, yet it still hurt. He began to ram himself inside of me, moaning louder and louder as he climatized, placing his fingers in my mouth to pull my head back. I would often feel him stiffen, then he would stop himself from cumming, trying to spin it all out. But after around half an hour I felt him stiffen for the last time, feeling his juice inside of me which disgusted me so much.
He untied my legs from the table and undid the handcuffs on my arms. He once again picked me up in his arms, and this time I was unable to struggle away from him. He carried me to the bathroom, playing me in the shower before he got in with me. He made me stand toward the tile wall, bending on it so he could get me from behind. He turned the water on, as he placed his cock at my entrance. “I bet you regret saying yes now, don’t you?” he taunted. I didn’t reply—even if I wanted to I couldn’t. He suddenly thrust himself inside of me, making me arc my back. He started grunting, his hands roaming my body and groping at my breasts. He began to go harder and faster, and the movement was making me slap my cheek against the wall. Eventually I felt him stiffen inside of me, before he pulled out.
He turned the water off, dragging me out of the shower and saying he was done with me before tossing me on my bed. I layed in a heap: naked, beaten, bloody. I was cold, but I couldn’t move to pull a cover on top of me. In the end I fell asleep, only to see Cohen in my nightmares.
“G-get away f-from me,” I slurred.
“I’ll do what I like,” he spat. He moved towards me and swung me into his arms. I moaned from the pain and tried to get out of his arms, but he just clung on to me tighter. “Wanna know what we are going to go for the rest of the night? Mine and Scarlett’s room. You will really enjoy it in there.” I didn’t understand what he meant. Their room wasn’t really any different from mine or my parents.
When we reached their room Cohen took me into their closet. It wasn’t really a closet; it was sort of a small bedroom type thing that led to their room. I was always under the impression that Scarlett used it for all her clothes, however when we got in there I realised how wrong I was.
Ropes and chains dangled off the ceiling so one could be tied in an awkward position. There was a thin, narrow table placed in the centre of the small room and various types of handcuffs dotted around the room.
He took me inside, placing me on a table. He got a bottle of water from somewhere and handed it to me, also putting a tablet in my hand. “It’s paracetemol,” he told me. I put the pill to the back of my throat, swallowing it without the water.
He took the bottle from my hand and threw it across the room. He then proceeded to lift me up and take me across the room, lifting my hands up and tying them to a rope hanging off the ceiling so my arms were above my head. I began to feel woozy, like I had no control over my body. I wanted to tell him to let me go, but I couldn’t manage it. It was then I figured it was that tablet he had given me. It wasn’t paracetemol; it was the date-rape drug.
He then picked my legs up, wrapping them around his waist, holding me in place by grabbing my buttocks and holding me to him. I felt him enter me and inside I was screaming, but I gave no reaction on the outside. Cohen smirked at me. “I see that drugs already taking effect.” and as if to prove his point, rammed into me. He continued like that, until once again, I felt him cum inside of me. The nerve! He wasn’t even using a condom. I know I was on the pill, but I had forgotten to take one the other week. I could still get pregnant.
He moved away from me quickly, simply letting my legs drop and my body scream in protest. He undid all the ropes on my hand, instead opting to use a pair of handcuffs which bent my arms backwards in a painful position. He forced me to lean on the table so my torso was on it but my legs were free, before he tied my legs apart onto the table legs.
I felt him force himself inside of my arsehole and my mouth didn’t move at all. He would continually pull his dick out before thrusting it back in, until he had set a rhythm. It wasn’t as painful anymore; he had done his damage, yet it still hurt. He began to ram himself inside of me, moaning louder and louder as he climatized, placing his fingers in my mouth to pull my head back. I would often feel him stiffen, then he would stop himself from cumming, trying to spin it all out. But after around half an hour I felt him stiffen for the last time, feeling his juice inside of me which disgusted me so much.
He untied my legs from the table and undid the handcuffs on my arms. He once again picked me up in his arms, and this time I was unable to struggle away from him. He carried me to the bathroom, playing me in the shower before he got in with me. He made me stand toward the tile wall, bending on it so he could get me from behind. He turned the water on, as he placed his cock at my entrance. “I bet you regret saying yes now, don’t you?” he taunted. I didn’t reply—even if I wanted to I couldn’t. He suddenly thrust himself inside of me, making me arc my back. He started grunting, his hands roaming my body and groping at my breasts. He began to go harder and faster, and the movement was making me slap my cheek against the wall. Eventually I felt him stiffen inside of me, before he pulled out.
He turned the water off, dragging me out of the shower and saying he was done with me before tossing me on my bed. I layed in a heap: naked, beaten, bloody. I was cold, but I couldn’t move to pull a cover on top of me. In the end I fell asleep, only to see Cohen in my nightmares.