Sweet Dreams Honey
Muse: Brendan Block
Word Count: 696
Warnings: NC-17 Explicit Content. Non-consensual.
Verse: paradisa
Notes: Continued from this thread
It's odd, the way he lays her down so gently, so carefully, easing her head back on to the pillow and pushing the hair from her eyes with a delicate stroke of his fingers. He loves her, he really does. He traces her cheekbone affectionately, feather light touches, afraid of hurting her almost. He's only doing this because she's forced his hand, if there was another way...
But there isn't. This is for her own good. They can't run away, it's not feasible, there's nowhere to run. If her ankle heals, she wants to go, and he has to stop that, he needs more time to convince her. She's stupid, she's gullible, she'll believe anything he tells her. Why does the stupid bitch have to be so fucking aggravating, so fucking stubborn? She could be so perfect if she'd just listen, do as she's told. But that's not going to happen overnight, that needs time, conditioning. Dependence, she needs to feel dependent on him; she nearly does, but it's not blind yet. It will be.
He's not sure how long he's got, the combination of Phenobarbitol and Rohypnol would be enough to knock out a human for at least a couple of hours, but Jenny, she's different, she's Gallifreyan. He thinks he'll have longer, it sent her out cold quicker than it would a human, maybe it'll affect her more.
"I'm so sorry I have to do this." He whispers to her, leaning in and claiming her mouth with a kiss so deep, it's disturbing. She's completely unconscious and he's probing her mouth with his tongue, it's obscene. But she's his isn't she? He can do what he wants with her, she told him, she said the word 'Yours'. He has permission. And she tastes so good, she's like raw honey untainted by additives. Pure and natural, and he owns that, he can shape it, teach it, he's in control of what gets added, he decides.
He rolls her over onto her front, he's flicked the switch, he's detached. There's nothing in his expression, nothing at all. The metal bar comes down on to the back of her head with frightening speed, but he's in control, he knows what he's doing, he won't let the rush of adrenaline take over. This has to be precise, no room for mistakes. A simple blow to the head, enough to give her concussion if she were lucid. She won't remember what happened, amnesia brought on by the trauma to her head. And he'll have to take her to the clinic, back to the castle. He'll be the hero, they'll all thank him and pat him on the back for bringing her back. 'Brendan, he's such a nice guy'. He smiles at that, the blood's pouring out of her head and he's smiling at how he'll be received. Head injuries, they always look worse than they are; no need for worry.
"Jenny, Jenny, Jenny." He sighs shaking his head, it's condescending, and it's not even for an audience that can hear. "Why did you try to walk on it? And downstairs of all things, you silly silly girl. So fucking stupid."
He didn't think her ankle would bend like that, it's surprising how fragile she really is. He feels the bone snap like a twig under his grip and it makes him hard, so fucking hard. He knew it would. He brings himself to the edge so fast, it's aggressive and he bangs at her relentlessly, moaning her name as he spills into his palm when he withdraws.
He leaves her to sleep then. He rinses out the glasses thoroughly, and then he kisses her goodnight. Tender, gentle, like he's kissing a butterfly and frightened of crushing its wings, he avoids the blood that's already starting to congeal in her tangled hair.
"Sweet dreams Jenny. We'll get you better when you wake up. I'm here for you Jenny, I'll never leave you. You're mine."
Word Count: 696
Warnings: NC-17 Explicit Content. Non-consensual.
Verse: paradisa
Notes: Continued from this thread
It's odd, the way he lays her down so gently, so carefully, easing her head back on to the pillow and pushing the hair from her eyes with a delicate stroke of his fingers. He loves her, he really does. He traces her cheekbone affectionately, feather light touches, afraid of hurting her almost. He's only doing this because she's forced his hand, if there was another way...
But there isn't. This is for her own good. They can't run away, it's not feasible, there's nowhere to run. If her ankle heals, she wants to go, and he has to stop that, he needs more time to convince her. She's stupid, she's gullible, she'll believe anything he tells her. Why does the stupid bitch have to be so fucking aggravating, so fucking stubborn? She could be so perfect if she'd just listen, do as she's told. But that's not going to happen overnight, that needs time, conditioning. Dependence, she needs to feel dependent on him; she nearly does, but it's not blind yet. It will be.
He's not sure how long he's got, the combination of Phenobarbitol and Rohypnol would be enough to knock out a human for at least a couple of hours, but Jenny, she's different, she's Gallifreyan. He thinks he'll have longer, it sent her out cold quicker than it would a human, maybe it'll affect her more.
"I'm so sorry I have to do this." He whispers to her, leaning in and claiming her mouth with a kiss so deep, it's disturbing. She's completely unconscious and he's probing her mouth with his tongue, it's obscene. But she's his isn't she? He can do what he wants with her, she told him, she said the word 'Yours'. He has permission. And she tastes so good, she's like raw honey untainted by additives. Pure and natural, and he owns that, he can shape it, teach it, he's in control of what gets added, he decides.
He rolls her over onto her front, he's flicked the switch, he's detached. There's nothing in his expression, nothing at all. The metal bar comes down on to the back of her head with frightening speed, but he's in control, he knows what he's doing, he won't let the rush of adrenaline take over. This has to be precise, no room for mistakes. A simple blow to the head, enough to give her concussion if she were lucid. She won't remember what happened, amnesia brought on by the trauma to her head. And he'll have to take her to the clinic, back to the castle. He'll be the hero, they'll all thank him and pat him on the back for bringing her back. 'Brendan, he's such a nice guy'. He smiles at that, the blood's pouring out of her head and he's smiling at how he'll be received. Head injuries, they always look worse than they are; no need for worry.
"Jenny, Jenny, Jenny." He sighs shaking his head, it's condescending, and it's not even for an audience that can hear. "Why did you try to walk on it? And downstairs of all things, you silly silly girl. So fucking stupid."
He didn't think her ankle would bend like that, it's surprising how fragile she really is. He feels the bone snap like a twig under his grip and it makes him hard, so fucking hard. He knew it would. He brings himself to the edge so fast, it's aggressive and he bangs at her relentlessly, moaning her name as he spills into his palm when he withdraws.
He leaves her to sleep then. He rinses out the glasses thoroughly, and then he kisses her goodnight. Tender, gentle, like he's kissing a butterfly and frightened of crushing its wings, he avoids the blood that's already starting to congeal in her tangled hair.
"Sweet dreams Jenny. We'll get you better when you wake up. I'm here for you Jenny, I'll never leave you. You're mine."