𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓 || DOUMA X YN || 16+ {DISCONTINUED}

chapter 4

┌─── ∘°❉°∘ ───┐

"Strip." His voice dripped with excitement, as if he had been waiting for this moment—planning it from the very start.

"Unclothe yourself," he commanded, settling into a chair and tapping the wooden table with a steady rhythm.

"W-what? I thought you were going to help me." I clutched my body, pulling my clothes tight as if they could protect me.

His grin widened, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Even if you tie it like that, I can just rip it off you." His voice was dangerously soft, dripping with confidence. "So, take them off. I’m asking nicely. Be grateful I haven’t ripped them off you, yet."

I walked backward slowly, my mind racing as I searched for something—anything—to hit him with and buy myself time to escape.  Shit. Shit. Shit. I cursed under my breath, hating every second of this nightmare. My fingers grazed the cabinet behind me, desperate to find a weapon, while my eyes remained locked on his, trying to mask the fear that clawed at my insides.

"You're wasting my time."

In a blur, he was in front of me, so fast it felt like he’d teleported. "You will obey me..." His hand clamped around my wrist, pain shooting through me as I let out a whimper.

"Let go, you asshole!" I spat, swinging my fist into his face before darting toward the door, my heart pounding in my ears.

"P-please, someone...!" I cried, pounding desperately on the door.

His mocking voice cut through my panic. "You think someone will come and save you? No, you're mine... forever." He whispered the words like a promise, his breath hot against my ear as he pressed his body against mine.

In an instant he had me pinned against the wall. "Please, I didn't mean to-" My plea was silenced as he tore the back of my kimono open, the sound of ripping fabric echoing in the room, sealing my fate.

I froze, every nerve in my body screaming as the cool air brushed against my exposed skin. His hand traced the edge of the torn fabric, slow and deliberate, savoring the moment.

"See? It's pointless to resist," he murmured, his voice a dark lullaby in my ear. I could feel his smirk without needing to look, the satisfaction radiating off him as he relished my helplessness.

My mind raced, desperately searching for a way out, but the walls seemed too close in around me. "Please..." I barely recognized my own voice, trembling and broken.

He chuckled softly, his fingers trailing down my spine. "Begging won't save you now. You belong to me," he whispered, his words wrapping around me like a noose, tightening with each second that passed.

"Please, no..." I sobbed violently, the words barely escaping my lips as my body trembled uncontrollably. Each breath was a struggle, as if the air itself was too thick to inhale. My heart pounded in my chest, a frantic, erratic rhythm that only heightened the suffocating fear gripping me.

I needed to calm down, to think clearly, but the drug pulsing through my veins was merciless, amplifying every sensation, every emotion. The walls seemed too close in around me, the room spinning in and out of focus. Tears poured from my eyes, blurring my vision as they fell like rain, relentless and unstoppable.

My throat burned, parched and aching, as I gasped for air, each breath more difficult than the last. My chest tightened painfully, a vice-like grip that squeezed tighter with every sob that wracked my body. I could feel myself spiraling, lost in a storm of fear and despair, with no way out, no escape from the nightmare unfolding around me.