Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Eddie twitches in the driver's seat of his car, its windows frosting over in the December chill. His hands grip the steering wheel, white knuckled under fingerless leather gloves. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye and clears his throat.

"I do hope you had a good time..." he prompts, worrying at a small piece of loose material on the wheel.

You smile at his awkwardness. You'd met Eddie at the bridal shop where you both work, and had asked him out on a date when you noticed his furtive glances. He was shy around you, despite being outgoing with everyone else. You thought it was adorable that his attraction made him so awkward, despite the fact that he could attract so many women just by smiling. You couldn't believe a man as hot as him had wanted to go on a date with you.

"I loved it, Eddie. Especially when the waiter asked if you were my dad," you giggle. Apparently an older man with a younger woman was still taboo to some, despite the progressive times.

He breaks into a smile, chuckling warmly and easing up a bit. He sighs and starts the car, waiting for the engine to warm up. You bite your lip and stare at him, at his sharp haircut and dapper black outfit. Boldness fills you, and you reach over to touch his knee.

"...I think you've earned a blowjob, if you want one..." you murmer, waiting for his response.

His eyebrows shoot up, and he looks shocked. For a moment you see fear flash across his face, then an ice cold look that makes you draw back a little. But then he grins, and you tell yourself you must've imagined it.

"No man in his right mind would reject a blowjob from you," he returns, practically purring. It was the first time his awkwardness had left, and you roll your eyes internally, smirking slightly. Men. Offer to suck their dick and they instantly warm up to you.

You lean in, tilting your head upward to kiss him. He shifts and meets your lips, engaging you in a passionate kiss. He moans softly, reaching out to cup your cheek with his massive hand. You break the kiss and slide your lips down to his neck, suckling a love bite into his pale skin. You let it go with a pop, and reach down to his crotch. He huffs in excitement, sitting back and watching you carefully. You unzip him, his bulge pushing out eagerly. You love that he wears briefs to accentuate his sizable package...you're sure that he's caught you staring more than once. You pull open the slit in his briefs, and pause.

"Do you prefer your balls in or out?"

"Out, please," he smirks, eyes dilated in pleasure.
You jiggle him until his tight balls pop out, resting on your fingers as they hook into his briefs. His penis flags to the right, only just starting to harden. You aren't surprised, considering his nerves. He'd been so twitchy tonight.

You gasp, already in love with what you see. He's veiny as hell, just like his neck and arms. And goddamn, he's BIG. Maybe about 7-8 inches, you gauge. The head is circumcised, a faint v-shaped scar rosy against his fair skin. You'd caught yourself wondering a couple times if he were cut or uncut, but either way it didn't change anything. You rub the trimmed pubic hair, coarse and pleasing.

He shivers, sensitive skin assaulted by the cold air. You turn the car heat up as high as it can go, and take him in hand, chafing gently to warm him. He moans appreciatively, rolling his head back and exposing his pale throat, love bite finally beginning to show clearly. You start to flick your tongue across the tip, stopping when he grunts.

"You ok?" you prompt, concerned.

"Yes...it's just, my tip is very sensitive and I only like rubbing it right before I cum," he explains sheepishly, "I know it's weird, sorry."

You laugh, thunking your head onto his muscular thigh. "You're not weird, trust me," you comfort, focusing again on his dick. You finally take the head between your lips, swirling your tongue around the flared coronal ridge, sucking your cheeks in to give him maximum suction. You aren't much of a braggart....but you know you're pretty damn good at sucking cock.
He sucks in a deep breath, reaching down to snake his fingers into your hair. You take as much as you can, wrapping your hand around what you can't take. You set a fast pace, and he pants in pleasure, so you keep it steady.

You moan, adding vibrations to the suction. He bucks ever so slightly, unable to help himself. You suck dutifully for another 3 minutes or so, and he suddenly gasps, reaching over to nudge you off.

"Fuck...I'm gonna cum," his cheeks burn, probably with shame at the quickness of his orgasm. But that cold look from before is back too...and it's creeping you out a bit.

"It's fine Eddie, really. I'm honestly flattered that you're so excited over me," you point out, reaching into your purse to dig out the emergency vibrator you carry with you.

He's staring at you dumbly, not expecting you to be so sweet...his experiences with women had been kinda shitty. Little did you know that your sweetness was maybe saving your life tonight. He reaches out to caress your throat, closing his hand around it. You allow it, feeling yourself becoming even more aroused from the slight choking.

You switch on the vibration, settling it against the underside of his head, and his reaction is immediate. He bucks, hips snapping, and you lower your mouth to settle it over the very tip, sucking tightly.

He lets out a long, drawn out groan, gripping the steering wheel as his cock twitches. Hot, salty cum floods your tongue, and you swallow it eagerly. He cums for an impressive 30 seconds, and sags back against the seat afterwards. His hand is still around your throat, and he clenches it tightly, choking you. You scramble a little and he releases you, looking dazed and confused. You settle back into your seat, flustered at the fact that he waited to let you go.

He zips himself back up and smiles at you, and it's disconcerting. He reaches down into the door and you blink in confusion as something glints. His hand snaps out to grab your hair, and he shoves a knife up under your chin. You scream, struggling against him, terror exploding through your nervous system.

"We're gonna head back to my place and have fun, how's that sound, you little whore?" he purrs, locking the doors and swinging the knife to slam the butt into your head, knocking you out. He shudders in excitement. It had been difficult to control his violent impulses around you, and what you mistook for awkwardness was really just an extreme attempt at self control.

He pulls out of the parking space and speeds towards his house, eyes shining like lightning. It had been years since his last excursion, and he itched for something real tonight.

He itched for death.

Chapter Text

Eddie slams his heel down on the brakes as he impatiently skids into his driveway, jolting with the force of the stop. Your deadweight body slides down to the floor, legs crumpling beneath you like old newspaper. He grinds his teeth and squeezes the steering wheel. HE was supposed to inflict the oh so delicious bruises, not his fucking car. He angrily turns off the radio, which had been playing Comedown by ohGr. His handsome face smirks at the irony as he slides your dead cellphone into his pocket. You're most definitely gonna blow his mind over and over whether you want to or not.

He flings the door open and stumbles out; thick legs locking beneath him, refusing to walk. He's so excited he's almost pissing himself. Walking to your side of the car, he pulls your door open and leans in to study his newest catch.

Your head is thrown back, arms tangled in the seatbelt. Blood from the knife handle wound is soaking your matted hair, trickling down to stain the shoulder of your dress. Eddie reaches down to rub his twitching erection through his trousers, leaning down to gather some of the warm blood on a trembling fingertip. He stares at it before slipping the digit into his mouth, groaning at the smooth coppery taste.

You begin to regain consciousness just as he's pulling you out from the floor of the car, tossing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You whimper and clutch at his back, trying to remember what had happened. Had you drank too much? Was Eddie taking you home? But then it all slams into you like an icepick to the face: the blowjob, Eddie choking you, then knocking you out with his knife. You start to kick, opening your mouth to scream. But you're only able to let out a short cry before he has you whipped back over his broad shoulder; his masculine, veiny hand locking over your throat in a vice grip.

"Shut the FUCK up, you $5 whore, or I'm making you swallow that fucking knife," he snarls, his hand close to crushing your trachea. You claw at his hands and nod urgently, prompting him to let you go. Desperate, you bring your pointed shoe up into his groin, and he instantly crumples to his knees, letting out a choked hiss. He stares up at you in shock, blue eyes wide, mouth hanging open as he cradles himself.

"You broke my balls, you bitch," he sobs out, rocking on his knees, and if not for the situation you'd be laughing your ass off in revenge. But instead you kick off your heels and run to the car, desperate to find your phone and call 9-1-1. You fail to notice that Eddie's already back on his feet, adrenaline and sadomasochistic tendencies dulling his pain. He slams into you, a corded arm reaching around to lock over your bruised throat. He hauls you into his garage, your feet kicking helplessly and your fingernails tearing into the sleeve of his coat, shredding off ribbons of the material. He flings open the door and sags against the hallway wall, tightening his grip until you're no longer moving. After waiting a full minute, he releases you and lets your body slide to the floor, shrugging his coat off and sinking down to cup his aching balls again.

"Jesus fuck," he grits out; you'd caught not only his left testicle but also the middle of his erection, and he's sure to bruise later on. He's lucky that you didn't bust a blood chamber and cause a penile fracture. "Fucking sluts have no respect for superior anatomy," he hisses, kicking your unaware body in the right breast.

Despite his pain, the sight of you all bloodied and helpless makes his cock respond again. He sits down to cut open your dress and expose your breasts, leaning in to bite your left nipple hard enough to draw blood. Panting, he reaches down and unzips himself, pulling his thick cock out and rubbing tenderly at the places where your foot had connected. Biting a trembling lip, he drags his hand through the blood on your neck, sitting up to kneel next to you. He begins to jerk himself off roughly, bucking into the slick blood, moaning in both pleasure and pain. Having already cum once before, he lasts a good 15 minutes this time, the thick, dark pink head swelling even more as he nears his orgasm.

"Fuck...oh darling..." he hisses, teeth clenching as he spurts warm cum onto your breasts. "Take my seed, bitch," he pants, shaking the last couple droplets off onto you. "You're going to be so full with my babies," he moans as his erection softens, zipping himself up and going back outside to turn off the car. He glances around at the surrounding houses, hoping that nobody saw or heard anything. He hurries back inside, locking the door behind himself and turning back to your body. Excitement again floods his sick brain as he picks you up, this time bridal-style.

It's time to begin preparations for the conception.

Chapter Text

You come to groggily, eyes fluttering open and cringing at the bright light. Your throat feels like a gorilla used it as a stress ball, and there isn't a spot on your body that doesn't ache. Moaning, you loll your head around in a weak attempt to take in your surroundings. You're in some sort of stone room, bare except for the bed which you've been unceremoniously dumped on. Your hand tries to move towards your face, but it jolts to a stop with a metallic clank. Cursing, you yank it again, blinking up to see your wrist connected to the metal bedpost by incredibly tight handcuffs. You probably couldn't even escape with the good old thumb dislocation trick.

"Shit," you rasp hoarsely, yanking repeatedly in panic. What the fuck was he going to do to you?? Rape you? Slowly cut you into little pieces and eat you? BOTH?

You glance down to see that your dress has been sliced open and you're half naked, so you scramble to cover yourself with the thin blanket. Something that feels and smells suspiciously like dry cum is all over your breasts, and you scrape it off in disgust. To think you swallowed that shit...

You don't notice how much noise you've been making, and you freeze as you hear the click of a lock being turned. The door swings open and Eddie appears, dressed sharply in a new outfit and holding a plate of food. You scowl at him in both rage and terror.

"You think I'm eating that shit? You probably poisoned it, you bastard," you spit out, and he flinches, looking hurt.

"You really think I'd poison the mother of my children?" he returns in annoyance, setting the plate down on the floor just out of your reach.

"Well you haven't exactly been treating me like the mother of your children," you venture further, anger fuelling your smart mouth.

You've earned yourself a smack, and his strong hand hits you hard enough to cut the inside of your cheek on your teeth. Your ear rings, and he holds up a shaking finger in warning.

"I've been as good to you as you've allowed," he hisses, "you haven't exactly been the most grateful. You even kicked me in the balls, you disgusting whore. You should be grateful that I chose you to carry my seed." He kicks over the plate in rage, broad chest heaving. You sink back down into the bed, pure terror now overriding your sarcastic mouth.

"You can eat off the floor like a worthless mutt if you're going to continue being a spoiled brat," he screams, snatching up your hair and shaking you violently, smacking your head into the wall as he flings you away.

"You'd better change your goddamn attitude before tonight, or you'll be fucking my knife first, then my cock," he grits, sitting on the floor and crossing his arms. You stare at him, unsure of what to do.

"Eat!" he snarls, lips pulled back over his white teeth, exposing his pink gums. He looks like a rabid pitbull, and you're transfixed by so much violence and beauty joined together in one person. Gesturing sharply at the food on the floor, he screams the word again. You quickly comply, sliding off the mattress and groaning as your body aches in response. He scoffs, glaring at you.

"You think YOU hurt? You nearly obliterated my left testicle earlier. Not to mention my cock. I should cut off your clitoris, then you'd know REAL pain," he says softly, this sudden detached calmness even more frightening than his screaming. You tremble and piss yourself, the warm liquid soaking your jelly legs as you stare at him. You need to make sure not to snap at him anymore; lighting his short fuse would almost certainly mean death or horrific mutilation. Fuck, he's probably going to mutilate you no matter what. But still, you need to try your best.

"I'm so sorry," you whisper, reaching for the thing closest to your feet: a warm dinner roll. He stares at you as you eat it, looking appeased with your apology. It's actually quite delicious, and you vaguely wonder if it's homemade.

"If you're good, I won't knock you out to bathe you before the conception," he beams, and you gag on the roll. Was he going to rape you until he got you pregnant? Because that's what it sounded like. Tears sting your eyes as you consider the harsh reality of being stuck down here for fuck knows how long, all alone with him raping you every night in this cold stone room.

"Okay," you agree weakly, unable to eat anymore. But he slides a piece of broccoli across the floor towards you, so you force it down. He waits until you've eaten everything and gives you a prenatal vitamin. You struggle not to vomit as you chew the fruity gummy, shuddering quietly.

"Are you going to kill me?" you sob suddenly as he turns to leave, empty plate in hand. He turns and cocks his head, a cold smile stretching over his pale face.

"We'll see, darling," he purrs cheerfully. "I'll be back in a few hours once everything is ready."

The lock clicks again as he leaves you to dissolve into hysterical tears, sobbing into the pillow as the seconds drip by like old, congealed blood.

You desperately send a prayer into the void that the reaper doesn't visit this house tonight.

Chapter Text

"Daaaarrrrliiiiiing...," a soft masculine voice coos as you jolt into wakefulness. An offensively strong scent is being held directly beneath your nose to stimulate consciousness, and you cough as he withdraws the small vial.

"There she is," he whispers giddily, a large hand descending onto the soft curve of your hip in a failed attempt to soothe you. You jerk away, cuffs jangling against the metal bedpost as you stare up at him in terror. He's wearing a simple black turtleneck with the sleeves rolled up, and a pair of grey sweatpants he probably uses as pajamas. Your lips part as you notice his very obvious dickprint, whimpering softly. You'd forgotten just how thick he is...he's going to rip your vagina to shreds. Or your ass, whichever one the sick fuck prefers to rape. Hopefully not both.

He caresses your cheek and rubs your bottom lip with a well manicured finger, leaning in to press a chaste kiss into your now cracked and bloody mouth. He moans quietly and reaches into the pocket of the sweatpants to fetch the key to your cuffs, giving you a dangerous glance as he reaches over to unlock them.

"Now darling, if you don't behave, this will be much more complicated than it really has to be," he hisses, light blue eyes pinning you down under a cruel gaze. You nod eagerly, just wanting to get it over with as quickly as possible. He unlocks the cuffs and they clink down onto the bed, still attached to your raw wrist. Your nervous system screams at you to make a run for it; base human instinct of survival warring with your logical brain. No. You have to obey. You can't afford to anger him.

He grabs your forearm in a vice grip and pulls you up, the sheet falling away to expose your breasts. He stares, and you grit your teeth in fear. An erection is beginning to strain his pants, and you suck in a deep breath as his other hand comes up to squeeze your breast. You shudder with fear and he pinches your nipple cruelly, drawing a pained squeak from you.

"Don't be so fucking annoying, I know you're loving this, all whores do," he scoffs, and you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood when the hand slips down to invade your cunt. He jabs his finger in roughly and you choke back a yelp of pain, earning a smile of approval from him.

"Good girl," he purrs, and you blink up at him. Despite the situation...god, he was still a gorgeous man. Maybe...maybe you could learn to adjust to this. In order to retain some broken semblance of your sanity. Stockholm Syndrome is better than death, right? And in the meantime, maybe he'd get lax with his security. It's a long shot in the dark, but you don't have many other options.

"I'm sorry for being so annoying, you're so good to me, I don't deserve it," you whisper hoarsely, stroking his ego and leaning into him, letting your shaking hand trail down to ghost over his cock. He stares at you with half lidded eyes, lustily glancing back down to your exposed tits. But then he furrows his brow, smacking your face sharply and moving towards the door, yanking you along behind him.

"We're not husband and wife yet, don't be such a slut, control yourself," he hisses as he leads you up a flight of concrete stairs.

You glance around nervously as he shuts the door and leads you through the small house. Eddie appears to be quite the homemaker: it's immaculately clean and cozily decorated. The pleasant scent of air freshener fills the air as well as the slight tinge of a fireplace. Who knew rapists could be so normal?

He pulls you into what you assume is his bedroom, and gape. The bed is large, perfectly made, with rose petals scattered on top of the comforter. A bottle of wine sits on the sizable nightstand, with a plate of chocolates and two slender glasses. For a split second you forget that this is a captivity situation. You're snapped out of your focus as he opens a drawer and pulls out a leather leash and collar, your heartrate spiking.

"For security purposes," he hums happily, strong hand tightening on your arm as he sets a record to play on an antique gramophone. Dated music fills the room, old ditties about men loving women and having families. How very Eddie, you think.

He finally pulls you into the bathroom and shuts the door, locking it behind you and hanging the leash and collar on the doorknob. You shiver with fear, glancing at him as he reaches over to finish ripping your dress, letting the tatters fall to the ground and nudging you towards the prepared bath. He's filled it with just right hot water and bubble bath, and you step in shakily.

"Ah, wait, you silly goose, it's not right to bathe still wearing undergarments," he chuckles, and your jaw drops as he pulls a massive knife out from somewhere behind the sink. The cold steel blade slips up your skin as he slices through your panties and the center support of your bra, the fabric parting like butter. You start to shake more violently, teeth chattering despite the hot water. He sets the blade down on the sink and sits on a small stool, staring down at you with the same heavy lidded look from before. A washcloth is sitting on the bath ledge next to you, so you slowly slide it off and soak it in the water, beginning to clean yourself.

"No no, let me help!" he insists, sliding off the stool to sit on the ledge, towering over you as he snatches the cloth away and pushes your hair to the side in order to scrub your neck. He cleans your back and torso but stops when he gets to your breasts, biting his lip and looking like he's having an internal argument. His impressive cock is at full mast now, tenting his sweatpants and gently flexing every now and then. He drops the cloth and suddenly stands, nimble fingers hooking into the waistband and pulling the pants down, beautiful cock springing free. You can't help but gawk, studying his muscular veiny arms as he slips a thumb behind his balls and gently bumps himself. His penis is already bruised but he doesn't really seem to notice. He's got a little belly chub, but the plane of his groin is still quite smooth, a few of his abdominal veins popping out.

Your thoughts are interrupted as warning signals go off in your brain: rape. He's going to rape you now. Tears flood your eyes and you blink up at him as he cocks his head, lips pulling back over his teeth in a leering grin. The terrifying cold look is back, freezing your blood in your veins as you cringe against the far side of the tub.

"I know your little kitty wants this tomcat," he growls, hooking a thick leg over the edge of the tub and straddling it, invading your space and destroying any of the peace you'd been able to gather inside yourself.

"But you have to wait until after the bath, when I put the ring on you," he chides gruffly, reaching down to snake his fingers into your hair and yank you over, pulling you up against his thigh and belly. His pink cock bobs, precum beading at the tip as he pushes your face towards it. You obey, parting your lips and slipping them over the thick head once again. He reaches over to grab the knife, white knuckling it and bringing the blade over to caress your skin, making shallow cuts on your arms and throat. You whimper in terror and he smacks you with the flat part of the blade warningly.

"Didn't I tell you to shut the fuck up with that shit??" he growls, practically ripping your hair out now. Hot tears flow down your face and clog your sinuses but you obediently suck, his salty precum coating your tongue and adding to the salt of your tears. The knife slides down and slices into your breast, causing you to jolt involuntarily and give the sensitive head of his cock a reflexive chomp.

"YOU FUCKING BITCH!!!" he howls, shoving you away. You splash backwards into the tub, bubble bath stinging your eyes as it floods your senses. You come back up gasping, stinging eyes barely able to make out what's going on. You feel another explosion of pain in your right shoulder and throw your hands up in an attempt to protect yourself.

"HOW DARE YOU BITE ME!" he shrieks, grabbing your hair again and pulling you out of the tub. The water is tinged red with your blood, and the hot liquid is flowing down your torso from your breast and shoulder. He flings you to the floor and slashes down three times, catching your arms and hands with each slice. Blood is everywhere, and you faintly register yourself screaming through the terror. He stops slashing and picks you up by the hair again, snatching the collar and slipping it over your head, cinching it tight enough to choke you and cut off the scream.

He drags you out of the bathroom into his bedroom and flings you up onto the bed as you choke, fingers scrabbling desperately at the collar. He smirks, tugging the leash as you squirm and panic.

"It's only what you deserve," he spits, walking up until his thighs bump into the bed. "Speaking of which, I don't think you deserve to be my wife now. You're just a common whore. Just like the rest of them," he whispers, his terrifying calmness returning.

He finally loosens the collar and you gasp in greedy lungfulls of air, your sight swimming from oxygen deprivation. You sob, clutching at his arms and only just managing to beg for your life.

"NO! PLEASE! I'LL BE A GOOD WIFE! I PROMISE! I'M SO SORRY, I'M SORRY I'M A WHORE! I LOVE YOU!!" you sob, clutching up at his pale face and turtleneck. Your blood smears across his face and he licks the blood from his lips, a shudder of pleasure running through him as he stares at you.

"You're so beautiful like this...," he whispers, and a sob of relief rips out of you as he leans in to kiss at your throat, his violence slipping away in a heartbeat.

You just might live to see another day...but the night is far from over.

Chapter Text

You blink up at Eddie as the gramophone begins to skip, trapped and destined to loop until someone resets the needle. The terror of the situation paired with the music makes you feel slightly trippy as your captor leans in for a kiss. You're stuck in this time loop just like the machinery; brain glitching and sending itself into a hazey dissociative state in an attempt to protect you from the trauma.

"Mmmmm, darling...." Eddie breathes, lips ghosting over your cheek and traveling down to press against your ruined mouth.

"So delicious...so fertile..." His voice trembles on that last word, massive hand sliding up to rest against your belly.

"Oh...pardon my ignorance, love...I should treat the fruits of your punishment," he breathes, stretching your bloody arms out to make sure he hasn't doomed you to death via blood loss. Thankfully the gist of the attack was absorbed by your hands, cutting down to your phalangeal bones but not threatening your life.

The wound in your shoulder, however, might be more serious.

You squeak as he twists your torso around to caress it. His thick yet deft forefinger slides down the curled edges of the flesh, and he coos when you scream.

"There, there....I apologize for losing my temper, but you brought it upon yourself," he growls, releasing you and turning away to dig through the bottom drawer of his dresser. Your eyes linger on his half nude form, glancing down at his heavy balls as he squats.

Despite the situation, and due to the dissociation, you find yourself grinding down against the bedsheets as you stare.

You want his babies.

You NEED them.

Eddie stands again, walking back over and unraveling a roll of bandages. His cock bobs as he walks; you moan as he reaches the edge of the bed and it slides on to rest against the sheets. His icy blue eyes follow your gaze and he gives you a wicked grin, snapping the bandages tight and leaning in to wrap you.

"You know, I've heard that different positions might ensure that the child is either a boy or a girl...." he whispers as he wraps your arms and hands, expertly tying off the ends. He stitches your shoulder wound next, working quickly and holding you down through your broken wails and whimpers.

Seems as if his tailoring skills aren't just good for fabric.

"But despite all that, I can't bring myself to stop using my favorite...." His voice is a deep purr; a deadly steel pipe wrapped with velvet. The supplies are swept down onto the floor by a corded arm, which then swings back around to yank you up against his broad chest.

He aggressively squeezes you against himself, hand scrabbling off to the side and finally returning with a glitzy wedding ring pinched between two fingers.

"I'm sure you won't mind skipping the formalities, what with your filthy whorishness," he leers, grasping your left hand in a deathgrip and shoving the ring onto your finger. It's too small, scraping your knuckle as it descends, but the pain is nothing compared to the sharp stinging in your shoulder and arms.

He impatiently picks up a larger one for himself and slips it on, attention finally locking back onto you as you quietly stare up at him.

And here it is. That dreaded, glorious moment....

The conception.

Eddie reaches down and pulls off the turtleneck, tossing the garment to the floor and smirking when you stare. He's much less hairy than you'd expected: a thin, dark happy trail leads to his immaculately trimmed groin, but his chest is entirely bare.

He does aim to impress, after all.

You're snapped out of your thoughts when he lets out a possessive snarl, hand grabbing your face and effectively shoving your entire body backwards into the mattress. His hands are on your knees next, corralling you into the middle of the bed. He climbs on, crushing your left side beneath his solid torso and reaching down to slip a thick finger into your wetness.

"Ohhhhh goddddd, darling," he pants, a slightly crazed look on his face as he starts to pump into you. Fireworks go off between your legs at the intrusion and you can't help but moan.

"Eddie," you breathe, flinching when his face snaps up to stare into yours.

"Say it again. My name. Say it," he grits out, impatiently yanking his finger out and grabbing your jaw in a bear trap grip.

"Eddie," you squeak again, nails scraping against his smooth chest as he rises above you, a strong knee forcing your legs open. He traps you between his arms and shudders when you obediently let your legs fall open for him; a flower blooming against his violence. He looms above you, eyes glinting and jaw setting.

"Say that you want my babies," he demands, tone sharp as the blade that had cut you.

"I want your babies," you whisper, voice almost inaudible against the heavy pattern of rain on the roof. You absently wonder at the face that it must have warmed up enough to not be snowing. "And I want my husband's cock," you daringly add, shocking yourself.

His eyes flutter as you say it, an orgasmic look of bliss settling onto his face as he lowers himself.

"My little wife," he groans, "MINE."

He punctuates the adjective by settling his blunt glans against your tight entrance, a tiny O gracing his lips as his eyes widen.

"So...so wet," he sobs with a shiver.

A thrust, a rock, a grunt. A loud moan from him; a pained wail from you.

And suddenly, he's inside, hot column searing your sensitive nether lips as you whimper. The stretch is almost too much, and a deep ache settles in your gut as he pushes against your cervix. But the pain is morphing to pleasure in your dreamy state; you gaze up at him with glassy eyes as he grunts.

"Hush now, don't ruin it with your womanly complaints, little slut," he grumbles, but his face doesn't look angry. It's relaxed, and almost loving.

His hips are snapping now, slamming his cock into you and battering your depths into submission. The noises he makes are gorgeous; he's much louder than you'd expected. He's groaning, babbling, sometimes almost sobbing. You sob in return, burying your face in his chest as his fists ball up the sheets. The agony and pleasure marry together to create a new sensation: a beastly pleasure that stimulates a familiar build deep in your womanhood.

"My love, my love, my LOVE," he chants, thrusting harshly every time he says that four letter word.

"Eddie....Eddie I'm cumming," you gasp desperately, and his hips slow. He blinks down at you in surprise, looking confused.

"Women can cum?" he asks, looking unconvinced.

You can't help but giggle at the ignorant question, but it's the wrong reaction. Rage twists his features and he abruptly pulls away, your cunt gently pulsing in a needy complaint at the loss of his cock.

"Don't you laugh at me, you WHORE!" he screams, giving you a smack and looking betrayed. "I...I try my best, and THAT'S how you repay me??"

"Eddie, please, I wasn't laughing at you," you cry, shielding your face until he calms and covers you again. But he seems to change his mind, pulling away and dragging you with him. Terrified that he's going to stab you again, you bleat out a loud scream. But you calm when he simply settles you against his groin, lifting your legs up to settle them on his shoulders.

"Yes...I...I suppose you're not lying. After all...you were so sweet to me in the car," he whispers, becoming loving again and reaching down to slip back into your silky warmth.

He's rougher now, an excited look on his face as he fucks and studies you. Your breasts bounce with the harsh force, and you're wailing again as the orgasm rebuilds itself. Blood is still running from your wounded breast, and he reaches out to smear it as he rocks. He licks his fingers when he's done, utter ecstasy painting itself across his face as you claw at the sheets.

"Yes, yes, you filthy whore, MY filthy little slutty wife, cum for me, swallow my seed into your womb and make us a child, a beautiful baby," he moans, head lolling against your right calf as you arch.

He snaps the leash tight and you choke, shock filling you as you writhe. You'd forgotten about it, and apparently he'd been waiting for the grand finale to implement the gear. But the asphyxiation only serves to deepen your arousal, sending you catapulting into your orgasm.

It hits your senses like a bullet to the brain, slamming into you hard enough to make your eyes roll back in your head. You lose control of your bladder and piss yourself, watching him as he stares down at your joining with wide eyes. He looks as if he's having a religious experience; some sort of epiphany as you massage him with your hidden muscles.

"Ah...aha...love, DARLING," he gasps, hips stuttering and mouth falling open as he hits his own peak.

He's silent through most of it, just staring as you feel his warm seed flooding you. But he finally finds his voice, knees buckling as he whimpers and yells out his fixation.

"Darling, darling, DARLING, oh darling, nnngh, ah, you feel so heavenly, oh GOD, oh FUCK," he sobs as it ends, slumping forward onto you and claiming your lips in a desperate kiss. He pins you down for what seems like forever, finally pulling out and frowning as you cringe.

His cock is bloodied, obviously having ripped you at some point during the rape. But this brings a loving smile to his face, a look of awe rewarding you for your suffering.

"You were a virgin...just for me," he whispers reverently as you begin to cry. The convulsive sobs rack your entire body; the fear and pain finally fighting to the surface now that the pleasure has disappeared.

Eddie hushes you but doesn't hit you again, caressing your thighs and whispering in an attempt to get you to calm down.

"Shhh, shhhh...I know it hurts, but just think of the babies," he points out, nuzzling your cheek and finally pulling you up into a sitting position. He leaves you sitting there, but slides his wrist through the handle of the leash and retrieves his turtleneck.

"Here, let's just take you to bed so you can rest," he whispers in excitement, tugging you forward until you slide off. You stand on wobbly legs, collapsing as he huffs in annoyance.

"Fine, I'll just have to carry you then," he sighs, pulling you up into his arms and making his way back to the tiny concrete room. He snaps the cuffs back into place after pulling his shirt onto you, tucking you in and planting a soft kiss onto your forehead.

"Sleep well, my love. Tomorrow morning I'll make you a big breakfast and then we can make love again, just to maximize our chances."

He's beaming, pale face stretched out in that familiar wide grin as he pulls away and finally leaves you alone, locking the door behind him and creaking back up the stairs. Your sobs only worsen. You're terrified of him, but you want him to hold you. To give you something to anchor yourself in reality. You're floating in the darkness of your own head, and nothing feels real.

But you're still alive. You survived.

And if you can survive this, you can survive the rest of the long nights to come.

Chapter Text

It's been six months.

Not that you have access to a calendar, or anything else that would connect you to the outside world.

Eddie's particularity about pregnancy and period timing has allowed you to keep a timeline of how long you've been in this domestic prison.

"Maybe...maybe tonight will be the night," your captor hopes, offering you an irritated smile and vehemently slicing into the chicken he's made for dinner.

You nod and smile, following suit and chafing your ankle against the chair leg restraint out of habit. He's been growing ever more agitated lately, upset over the fact that his breeding has come to no avail yet. You desperately hope for your own safety that it happens soon...

Who's to say he won't just slit your throat one night and go out looking for a new mother?

You know stress impedes the conception process, so you've been trying your best to behave and be positive. Eddie even lets you watch television with him in the evenings now. Provided that you fuck him on his lap, that is.

The cuddles he gives you afterwards have become one of the high points of your day.

"I know it's upsetting Eddie; I'm upset too," you whisper, staring down at the milk he forces you to drink. "Maybe we should try three times a day instead of just twice?"

He pauses and stares at you, breaking into a wider smile and clacking his fork down.

"Oh? Does this have something else behind it than just pregnancy?"

It always gets him worked up to hear you say how much you want him, and the fact that you can still get him hard in under a minute gives you hope that he'll keep trying out of dedication to you.

You blink coquettishly, genuinely blushing and sipping the milk.

"Some women's husbands hurry home to breed them during their lunch breaks," you suggest, heart thudding when the familiar glint shines in his piercing eyes.

Time to appeal to him.

"So...Eddie...I've been thinking, I'd like to go outside with you."

His expression snaps into a dangerous, suspicious glower and his brows lower.

"Why would you ever want that when I provide you with everything you need right here in this house, ungrateful whore?" he growls.

"But other husbands take their wives on walks," you pout, toeing the line as much as you can before he snaps. "I'm so grateful for everything you give me Eddie, and how much you care for me. But...I miss fresh air. I miss dogs barking. I miss birds."

He shrugs, not offering a reply and finishing his dinner. You hurry to catch up, knowing that he'll drag you to the bedroom right after this and what you eat now is all you'll get until morning.

Sure enough, as soon as the dishes are in the sink he turns and untucks his shirt, letting out a tired sigh and squatting to undo your restraints. He grabs you by the wrist and leads you to his room, fixing a collar around your neck and securing you before beginning to unbutton his vest and undershirt.

"Darling...how would you feel if I took another wife?"

Fear and another, less identifiable emotion blasts into your system and you stare at him, eyes widening and knees shaking.

Jealousy. That's what it is. Jealousy.

"Why?" you demand.

He looks sheepish and cowed as he walks over, unanchoring you to pull you close.

"I...I just itch...for more," he whispers, brushing soft lips across your forehead and leading you to the bed.

You obediently lie back and wrap your legs around his hips, clutching closer than usual as he begins his punishing pace. He digs his face into the crook of your neck, biting and soaking the sheets with blood, deep moans and beautiful grunts filling your senses.

No orgasms reward you this time.

You're too busy crying over his question about another wife.

He doesn't take out his daily frustrations by hitting you anymore, but he does still cut you. When he's finally ejaculated, he always makes you clean him off with your tongue while he drags the tip of his favorite knife up your back. Tonight he only lets that continue for a few minutes, pulling you back up to kiss you passionately.

He's hard again, so you maneuver yourself upwards and drop yourself down. He gives you an apologetic look when you start to grind, squeezing your ass to pull you even closer.

"Darling...I'm so sorry...I can't believe I actually entertained the idea of being...unfaithful. I promise, I'll never take another wife. You're my one and only," he groans, gasping slightly when you cum on him and moan into his chest.

"EDDIE!" you shudder, clawing your nails down his back and up the back of his neck as he finds a second release deep inside your core.

You remain in this intimate position for a good ten minutes, Eddie eventually pulling you down to lie next to him in the bed. He remains inside; cockwarming is one of his favorite activities apart from fucking and drawing blood. But eventually you have to piss, so he leads you to the bathroom and stands, letting you hug his stomach while he waits.

Just before you're done, something catches your eye.

A bloody shirt in the bathtub.

He hasn't attacked you enough to draw THAT much blood for quite a while, and that blood looks fresh.

Jealousy and hatred boil in your gut and you glare up at him after standing up. He looks confused for a second, then realization dawns. But he doesn't explain himself, simply leading you back down to your concrete room early for the evening.

"No tv?" you sniffle, miserably sitting down on the bed.

"Maybe later," he loosely promises, not meeting your eye.

Then he leaves, leaving you to cry and scratch at the door while he walks back up the stairs.

Your husband, YOUR beautiful husband, is out hunting whores, leaving his wife back home to rot in loneliness.

Eventually you wear yourself out, flopping down on the bed and curling up under the blankets.

But through the emotions, a thought strikes you: he's hunting whores, but he hasn't killed you, or otherwise gotten rid of you.

That counts for something, right?

You're asleep when he comes home, much later than usual. You don't wake until he's pushing open the door to your room, something bundled up in his arms at he hums his favorite old song under his breath.

You blink, squinting in the bright lights after he switches them on.

It's a woman. A blonde.

No.

Nononononono.

NO.

HE PROMISED.

"YOU PROMISED!!!!" you screech, flying up out of the bed like a wild animal.

Eddie yells, realizing that he's forgotten to cuff you to the bed. He never needs to anymore, what with your good behavior and willingness.

Before you can even comprehend what you're doing, your hands are at the woman's face. Digging into her eyeballs. Scraping at her skin. And finally yanking, yanking until you hear crunching and the head lolls limp in your hands.

You stare down at the corpse, vaguely aware that she'd been screaming until a few seconds ago.

Your tunnel vision fades, and you whimper, looking around for Eddie. He's in the doorway, staring at you a conflicted look of guilt, love, and surprise. When your eyes meet, his face twists. And for the first time ever, Eddie cries.

He cries until he can barely breathe, apologizing over and over and begging your forgiveness.

"I couldn't help it darling, she was so tempting, flashing her tits like the disgusting slut she was, I got an erection and...and I just had to," he sobs, pulling you close and leaning into your gory hands.

"Just make us a fucking baby," you whisper, kneeling on your knees and elbows this time.

He climbs on willingly, tears ceasing as you accept his forgiveness with your body. He's rougher than ever, slamming your head against the metal bars and screaming your name over and over. The dead woman stares at you with glassy eyes and you smirk down at her, wiggling against Eddie's groin when his warmth fills you once more.

YOU'RE the woman of this household.

And none of those ugly, undeserving whores will usurp you.

Chapter Text

"Darling?"

The familiar voice carries into your shared bedroom, where you sit folding the tiniest of socks and the softest of onesies. You glance up and your ever dapper husband is in the doorway, watching you with a look of mixed love and disgust.

It's been two years.

And still no conception.

"Yes, Eddie?" you return, meekly straightening a wrinkle in the bedspread and giving him a simpering expression, glancing at the collar in his hand.

"I'm going out," he says, walking in and brushing your overgrown hair away from your nape, the massive hands you crave every moment of every day brushing your most vulnerable parts as he cinches down the leather strap. He tests the spacing with a thick finger to make sure you can adequately breathe, then loops the end about his wrist and tugs, forcing you to tumble off the bed in pursuit.

"DON'T PUT ME BACK IN THE ROOM!!" you sob, twisting and yanking, gagging yourself in your futile attempts to escape. Eddie just watches, blinking at you until you exhaust yourself, collapsing on the floor with a shudder.

"You know you won't find any," you whisper.

His lip curls, but it's true.

Every three months he goes out in search of a new wife, a fertile mother in which his seed can finally come to fruition. He's the best hunter on the streets; the news outlets dub him the The Groom. Every three months, a local woman goes missing. And on every fifteenth day of every following month the corpses are found somewhere in the outskirts of town, dolled up in the best of wedding dresses, an innocent veil hiding their maggot-ridden flesh. Bellies torn open, ovaries removed, breasts missing. Absolutely no DNA evidence except for inconclusive semen samples that don't match any known criminals.

You don't mind his hunting now. You may not be able to conceive, but Eddie loves you. He satisfies the itch but always comes crawling back to you, apologizing and showering you with love, even expressing said love by executing his little whores for you.

And yet, he hates himself for it. How could he ever love a woman who cannot perform a woman's basic duty? But he can't resist you, every night still spending himself in your warmth, palming at your stomach as if he can wish a child into existence.

"Shut your mouth before I stitch it closed, love," he sneers, tugging again and watching you pout.

"We can still have a baby," you whisper.

He scoffs, giving you an irritated glare.

"How, by cutting out your uterus and stuffing in a new one?" he mutters.

"Just steal one," you explain in exasperation, watching him with a hopeful expression as his shoulders tense and he jolts to a stop.

"Hospitals, strangers...there's babies everywhere," you continue.

The look Eddie gives you is one of slight respect, as if he's shocked that a woman could come up with such a splendid idea. The ever-present look of disgust melts ever so slightly and he gives you a tiny smile, reaching out to caress your cheek.

"A special hunt tonight, I suppose," he purrs, eyes slitting as you lap at his fingers, talented tongue flitting over his finger pads until he tugs your leash and leads you back to your room. The farewell kisses you share are vile and desperate, filled with dazed moans and romantic whispers. Then he abruptly pulls away, slamming the door and creaking up the stairs.

You blink, soupy brain processing the noises and finally identifying what was missing.

The clink of the key.

He finally trusts you.

Your beautiful Eddie, your soulmate, your defender.

Trusts you enough to let you enjoy freedom.

Your legs can barely support you as you wobble to the door, turning the knob and letting out a pained sob as the mechanism gives, allowing you to pull the door open and stare up into the dark stairwell. The gramophone is still playing from your passionate nightly session, and you can hear the faint crackles of the cozy fireplace as it eats up all the fresh wood Eddie must've piled on before leaving.

You crawl up the stairs, legs now shaking so badly that you can't support your weight. You sob out confused thanks, kissing the steps as you drag yourself up and finally onto the carpet. To be quite honest, you have no idea what to do with yourself.

Obviously you don't want to leave.

Maybe you could watch tv? Without Eddie (bless his soul) whining and shoving you down onto his cock for a gentle rock as he fixates on his favorite shows. Or you could cook something? Try one of his delicious recipes yourself?

But the shock of it all is still too much, so you ultimately decide on curling up in his bed and waiting, rubbing your thumb over the soft onesie fabric and obsessively daydreaming about the child that will soon be filling it.

You hear the car a short hour later, leaping up and reflexively bolting for your containment room, irrationally terrified of him finding you out of your bonds. But then you hear his footsteps coming up to the front door, and momentarily forget your terror.

"Eddie," you breathe, shuffling down the hallway and peering with wide eyes when the door finally opens.

The first thing you register: blood.

The second: that Eddie is indeed clutching an infant-sized bundle to his chest.

"Oh EDDIE!!!" you squeal, rushing over to grab the baby away from him for a long-deserved entrance into motherhood.

"Ah," Eddie gasps, cueing you to glance back up at him in curiosity. You gape, reaching out to push your hand against his shoulder.

A bullet hole.

"D-darling," he wheezes, grabbing hold of the doorway as his knees give out, face paler than the full moon. He fights to smile at you, too weak to form words but obviously ecstatic at finally seeing a baby in the arms of his true love. And also at the fact that you stayed for him.

Because you love him.

As exciting as the new addition to the family is, the baby ends up on the ground (placed gently of course) and you lunge to squeeze the wound. There are three holes, actually. You vaguely wonder how on earth he had the strength to get home as you scream in his face, abusing him for letting himself get injured. Like a rookie.

Then, in the haze, bright blue and red lights come skidding into your driveway, rough hands are pulling you off and assault rifles are waved. Someone whispers that it'll all be okay, you're okay now, you were kidnapped and now you're safe.

But you're not.

You'll never be safe without Eddie.

So you lunge and bite their nose, ripping the tip off and sending them screaming out the door. You're tranquilized, spitting and screaming, clawing and kicking to get to your husband. He's being dragged away, weakly flailing for you with a look of utter devastation splattered across his ghoulish face.

Eddie. Eddie, Eddie, EDDIE!! EDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIEEDDIE!!!

"....poor thing...gone mad...drove her to insanity...bit the cop's nose clean off...killed...don't think she even remembers..."

The soft whispers tease you into wakefulness, eyes blinking open to squint up at a bright ceiling and something you can't recognize. It's round...and red....red as the blood that fills your memories.

A balloon?

Eddie? Where's your beautiful Eddie?

You groan and cough, lolling your head to study the pristine medical equipment and the two nurses in the corner of the room who are cleaning your bedpan. One glances over and gives you a soft smile, setting down the pan and approaching you with hesitant steps.

"Where's my husband?" you croak, throat drier than a desert during drought. Her smile falters, and she looks scared, glancing over at her coworker.

"Um...Mr. Gluskin? He survived but...he's in the male ward."

You squint at her, trying to put two and two together. Ward?

"Is this a hospital?"

"...sort of. This is Mount Massive, sweetheart," she whispers, and you scowl.

These FUCKERS.

Labeling the both of you as outcasts, crazy lovers, and even having the gall to SEPARATE you. AND take your baby away!!!

"LET ME SEE HIM!!!!" you scream, rocking violently against your restraints and kicking up a horrific scene. Your wrists and ankles are already worn from past struggles, although you can't remember them. But the pain is nothing compared to what you feel in your heart, the all-encompassing ache of being taken away from your generous husband, your true love.

The nurse moves for your IV drip and turns up the dosage; you're calming and flopping back into the mattress within seconds.

And then darkness.

For days, months, years, god knows how long.

But you prefer it. Prefer it to the pain of separation. Prefer it to the doctors peering into your face to read your blank expressions.

If you can't have Eddie, you want only darkness.

But then one night, something changes. You're half sober, and the head nurse is late to arrive with the delicious dose that will snow you under. You're being spoon fed when the lights flicker and an ungodly noise rises from the depths of the asylum, ending just as quickly as it had started. The nurse leaves to investigate and never returns, probably becoming one of the choked off screams echoing throughout the corridor. The pain is reaching unbearable levels again so you grasp your pillow and heave yourself off the bed, crying out when you land awkwardly on your left arm. Then you wiggle beneath the bed as footsteps pound past the door, alarms screaming near and far as the mass outbreak begins.

You hide. You wait.

If Eddie is still alive, if they haven't electrocuted him for his so-called "crimes" of love, then he will come for you.

And if he doesn't, well, starving to death is a fit punishment for a wife who let those nasty pigs drag him away.

"I want a girl........just like the girl that married....dear old dad....."

You jolt, smacking your forehead on an iron rung but completely ignoring the pain. Who knows how long you were out, but the sound of that familiar voice rips you out of unconsciousness fast enough to give you mental and physical whiplash.

"Daaaarliiiiiingggg?" the voice calls, a lighthouse in the darkness.

You scramble out from under the bed, clutching your dirty pillow and crawling over to the door, pushing your matted hair out of your malnourished face in order to see it it's really him.

"...son, see how happy you will-"

"Eddie?" you call.

Silence.

Then footsteps, coming from the far end of the pitch black hallway, getting faster when you call out once more.

And suddenly, a unique broad figure is there, a mostly recognizable but mutilated face is staring down at you. The soft light of your barred window illuminates his surprised expression and the glint of a long serrated knife clutched in his bloody hand.

"DARLING!" he booms, shock giving way to pure ecstasy as he finally finds what he's been looking for. Fighting to get back to even since before the doctors fried his brain like an egg with that infernal machine, which you'd overheard through the grapevine.

He drops to his knees, knife clattering as he snatches for you and squeezes you to his dirty chest. He smells disgusting enough to make you gag, but you don't care. Sobs of bliss and confusion wrack his form as you trace the planes of his injured face, renewing the memories that had drifted through your subconscious while you wasted away.

"I searched....for so long....but all I found were men, disgusting liars that wanted my love but offered nothing womanly, nothing that compared to you...I tried helping them, fixing their flaws, but they all left me. They left me...just like you did, darling."

His voice has dropped to a deep growl now, and his lip is curled into a feral snarl. His teeth are yellowed from neglect, but it still doesn't mar his attractiveness in your eyes. Fear spikes in the pit of your stomach as a hand slides up to grasp your throat; a strong thumb rubbing over your shivering skin and his bare teeth coming within inches of your nose.

"A little birdie told me," he whispers, voice shaking, "you bit a man's nose clean off. And then, you tore a nurse's face to shreds. All for me, darling," he groans.

He looks angry, but his voice is filled with awe and praise at the fact that you fought so hard to get past the cattle separating you. Before you can respond you're flung backwards into the room of your captivity, sparking a memory of your first coupling. God, you'd been so scared of him then. You hadn't known any better. Hadn't known anything about love, or family.

But Eddie, Eddie had been kind enough to teach you.

He punishes you according to your sins, kicking and shaking and cutting and screaming out sobs of betrayal. But then it's over. Your darling can't kill you, like he killed all the others.

You're irreplaceable.

"So long, so long, it's been too long," he breathes, reaching down to grasp the zipper of his gore-splattered dress pants, eyes crazed with sexual starvation and insane joy. "I need you NOW!" he barks, kneeling and reaching down to yank your legs apart.

His cock bobs in the mildewed air and you sob, trembling with joy that he's somehow in front of you again, in all his glory. Maybe it's just a figment of your broken brain, but even if it is, it's a beautiful hallucination to experience before death.

"Oh! OH! EDDIE!" you scream as he lunges to cover you, violently tugging your legs up around his waist and tearing your gown up around your legs. He cringes at all the overgrown hair but then gives you a forgiving smile, leaning down to kiss and lick the tears into your cheeks.

"Mmm...we can fix that later."

"Pleasepleasepleaseplease Eddie take me, oh god all that time without feeling you, it was torture Eddie, I couldn't take it," you babble.

"I know, darling, you always were such a whore," he whispers in your ear.

A thrust, a feminine scream, and a deep masculine groan.

And then you're filled, quite possibly torn, filled for the first time in such an unbearable eternity. He screams too, but out of the sheer pleasure denied him for so long. You imagine your poor husband hunched over his small cell toilet, fucking his own hand, desperately pleasing himself and missing you. Forced to spend his priceless cum in that disgusting toilet because of those devils.

"DARLING, YES, (Y/N)!!!!!" he chokes out, reaching down to hold your skull down to the floor and squeeze your left temple to keep you from moving. God, but his hands are so massive. You're forced to stare directly up into his eyes while he stares down, tears flooding your vision as he violently breeds you. It's rough enough that you're soon scooted to the other side of the room, limp as a ragdoll until you finally begin to spasm.

The peak is cataclysmic. You nearly convulse around him, catching glimpses of his adoration when you blink your eyes open. But then your face is smashed into his chest and his legs are kicking, cock twitching and deep warmth anointing you, forgiving you for causing him so much pain. For making him love you, for letting him trust you and forcing him to find you a baby.

"D-d-duh-harling," he gasps, eyes wide and mouth twisted as you stare up at him.

Then he collapses, first crushing you then rolling off when you wheeze. His flagging cock makes a wet pop as it slips out, resting against his thigh and cueing a small tired moan. You scramble down to clean it with your mouth and he purrs for you, rubbing your blushing cheek with a blood crusted finger. He begins to harden again, of course not sated after so long being deprived. So you work him with a vengeance, reveling in his rhythmic "ughs" and soft "fucks". The gorgeous member pulses between your lips until you lose yourself in his pleasure. He finally spills, bucking up and forcing you to gag, yanking you over to force you beneath him again. He waits until he hardens and the dance restarts, over and over and over until you're absolutely raw and he's hopelessly soft.

"Oh darling, oh love, you're so perfect for me," he croons, drawing you close and cuddling you right there over the smeared blood and other fluids of your sex. You snuggle up against him, letting him absentmindedly stroke your aching cunt (and periodically stab in a curious finger) until your eyes are heavy with sleep and starvation. "It'll be all right, darling. I promise. As long as you're a good wife, we can rebuild everything."

You nod, drifting into drowsy dreams, finally content now that you're home.

Home is where the heart is, as they say.