Hot Evil People Enthusiast

GOD it's like you read my mind !!! He absolutely would- controlling you gets him hard like nothing else, and this is one of the ultimate forms of control. Forcing you to ignore your own body, watching you squirm and whine for hours but not allowing you to find relief; and then suddenly changing what he wants from you and playing your body like an instrument to get it despite your humiliation,,, AUGH

The mental image of his huge hand resting on your knee (stilling your leg that you'd been bouncing in a last ditch effort to not piss yourself), squeezing gently- and then sliding up up up your thighs, dipping teasingly between them for a moment just to hear you yelp and plead with him not right now sounding so whiny and embarrassed. "Alright, I won't touch you there" he soothes, agreeing with you surprisingly quickly; which you realize is actually a bad sign when his hand slides just that little bit further up to rest over your bladder.

He presses gently at first so he can feel you writhe, hear you try and tell him that you're serious, you really have to go; as if he doesn't already know that. Then he starts gently kneading, slowly increasing the pressure until you can't hold it anymore- and of course he acts surprised when you actually do piss yourself, like he really didn't know you meant it, like he didn't orchestrate this whole thing.

You have to take a deep breath when you reach the window, you were trying to be so quiet you forgot to breathe, and to control yourself. Every piece of you wants to scramble out of it, but Agatha will definitely hear that. The windows are loud every time she opens them and it’ll be even louder if you knock into it. You carefully climb through. You instincts scream at putting your back to the kitchen but you have no other choice. The lock scrape your skin even as you try to twist away from it. Every second is agonisingly slow. You expect a hand to close around your leg at any moment.

And then you’re suddenly touching grass. You freeze for a moment. The feeling feels so foreign now and you forgot how strong it can smell. Remembering yourself, you crawl forward. Your feet land with a muted thump and you wince. You press yourself against the wall below the window and freeze, but Agatha’s humming hasn’t changed. You start crawling forward, as fast as you can. Ironically, Agatha not letting you walk has given you speed in your escape. The house is surrounded by bushes as tall as trees. At least the windows are. All you’ve ever been able to see is a stretch of grass and the green border. You’ve never seen movement beyond it, or heard anything other than birds outside. Heart pounding so hard you feel like you’re going to be sick, you reach the bushes. You shove yourself to your feet and brute force your way through. The bushes are grown tightly together and limbs scrape you but you don’t feel it beyond the pressure and a few trickles of blood. This is it. The first new sight in— in so long you feel like you’ve been here forever. You stumble free and look around with eager eyes.

Your heart drops, your stomach with it. 

There’s a wall. A flat, wooden wall well above your height. You try to jump high enough to catch the edge, knowing it’s futile. You fingers don’t get anywhere close. You scramble desperately at the wood but there’s no dents or knots to dig your nails in. Panic closing your throat, you step back a few paces and run at it, jumping at the last second to try and push yourself up using the wall. You’re fingers are still a hands breath away from the edge. You fall on your ass, panting as you stare up at it. The bushes are too far away to jump from. What the fuck are you meant to do?

“Well, that’s my entertainment for the day.”

You jolt upright, turning to see Agatha standing there. Instead of the rage you’re expecting, she looks amused. There’s a sharp, thin kitchen knife in her hand. Your mouth is so dry you almost choke.

A door. A wall has to have a door. Doors have handles and things you can climb. You dart sideways, sure you can outrun Agatha’s slow gait. There has to be a way out of here.

All you find is a corner. You turn to try again but Agatha is already behind you. She’s close enough that she’ll be able to reach out and grab you, slice you, no matter which side you run.

“Don’t give me that look,” Rio says, like Agatha’s expression isn’t flat. Maybe a little unimpressed. “I know you’ve been fantasising about this. Your little toy trapped under me.”

“I’ve never been one for chains.”

“Liar,” Rio says, sounding delighted. Her fingers dip under your waistband and you try to move. Her nails dig warningly into your hip and the knowledge that she has a knife makes you still.

“For myself,” Agatha adds dryly. “We both know how much I enjoy you all wrapped up.”

“What about this one?” Rio gives you a little shake using the hand on your hip. She showed off how strong she was when she kidnapped you but it’s still odd to feel. “Do you enjoy this one all curled up in the corner?”

“Not particularly,” Agatha says. Rio’s hand goes into your underwear. A panicked sound escapes you as you grab her wrist. Agatha steps forward but the chain rattles and she stops. “What do you want, Rio?”

“I want both of you,” Rio breathes. She sinks two fingers into you and you gasp. The games you’ve played with Agatha have confused your body in this moment to make you embarrassingly wet. Rio easily moves in and out of you. You try to pull her hand out but it’s like she can’t feel you at all. Rio makes a humming noise, turning to brush her lips over your cheek. “So wet,” she murmurs low enough the words could be just for you. Until she looks at Agatha.