Bitch

Chapter Four: Free Will

In the week following her procedure, Marilyn had recessed deep inside her own mind. Most days passed in a blur of pain and suffering, usually mixed with a heavy dose of humiliation. She'd been brutally assaulted more times than she could count by that point and hope no longer felt like an actual word. The skin on her knees and the palms of her hands had been scraped to hell from crawling along the floor all the time.

Mornings, or what Marilyn assumed were mornings, usually went the same way every day. She could hear when Alistair would get out of bed, then the rattle of his keys just before the padlock to the cage clicked open. She'd brace herself for the inevitable and familiar feeling of Alistair's hand in her hair, pulling painfully on her scalp until she was out of the cage.

Alistair took a great deal of pride in his ability to break down the will of another human being. Not just that, but rewiring them entirely. Marilyn was only halfway there. She no longer fought back or pleaded for mercy and followed orders with little hesitation. He was going to take it a step further though, starting now.

Alistair had started the day like any other, dragging Bitch along with him to the kitchen. He made himself breakfast while she sat under the table by his chair, undoubtedly waiting for him to get his morning blowjob in. This time would be a little different, however.

Marilyn had grown accustomed to Alistair wordlessly forcing her head down when he wanted her to suck him off, so it took her aback to hear his chair screeching back against the tiled floor before her morning defiling. Her confusion must have been evident on her face since she heard Alistair laughing as he stood up.

"Come." Alistair ordered with a smirk, stepping away from the kitchen table back towards the living room. He wanted to be in a more comfortable position for what was coming next, plus throwing Marilyn for a loop made her actually focus on what was happening.

Marilyn crawled alongside Alistair, listening hard to his footsteps as they crossed from the kitchen tile to the carpeted living room. She heard him take a seat on his couch, then pat either his thigh or the place beside him. Either option made her nauseous.

"Up. Now." Alistair demanded. He smiled as he hooked his index finger into the o ring at the front of her collar, pulling gently to guide the woman into his lap.

Marilyn swallowed hard as her legs straddled Alistair's thighs, her hands tightly balled at her sides. This would be far from the first time Alistair had raped her, though every other time had involved a lot of manhandling and force. It made her feel even more disgusted with herself than usual to climb onto his lap of her own volition, feeling the warmth of Alistair's shaft against her stomach.

"C'mon Bitch, surely you know where to go from here." Alistair said in a playful tone, reaching out with one hand to cup one of Marilyn's breasts. His thumb rubbed circles around her nipple, softly pinching it between his fingers as he watched her squirm uncomfortably in his lap.

Marilyn considered begging Alistair to just let her blow him instead, though she knew that would get her nowhere good. Slowly, her hands traveled up Alistair's bare chest until she reached his shoulders. She held onto him, pulling herself up until she felt his cock dip between her legs.

Alistair grinned as he moved his free hand down to line his dick up for her, his tip poking at her dry entrance. His other hand continued to play with Marilyn's chest, feeling her nips harden between his fingers.

Marilyn sucked in a few deep breaths before forcing herself back down. She bit down on her lower lip to try and distract herself from the pain of Alistair's tip slowly entering her. As revolting as it was to be able to feel every inch of his throbbing member pushing into her, she really wanted to avoid getting her insides torn again.