#current ray toro

you’ve been a fucking brat— didn’t matter if you were trying to run away or simply refusing to do menial tasks. you had it so, so good. and you just had to go and fuck it up.

ray never yelled at you, barely ever hit you. but now, with his hands tangled in an agonizing grip, you saw a version of him you weren’t quite used to.

you had tried to fight him off of you but it was no use. he grabbed some rope from his shop, a hook already at the end, and pushed you to the ground. you jabbed your legs at him with as much force as you could, once even hitting him in the ribs. he looked down at you, fury in his eyes that made the blood drain from your face.

it was dark now, a thin layer of snow forming on the ground. you were barefoot, the soft powder stinging like nettle and lingering all the same. his legs were planted firmly on either side of you, his hands tightening the rope around your wrists.

you’re trying not to cry— for some reason, having ray be angry, or even upset with you left you with a deep, rooting shame weighing on your chest.

“c’mon, get up.” he groaned, pulling you both up on your feet. he fished for the end of the rope, hooking it well above you onto the sturdiest branch he could find.

ray was taller than you, it was easy for him to reach. but your rope was so short, your hands hung in the air as your toes barely caressed the snow below you. you whimper at the feeling, the look in your eyes pitiful as you plead.

“ray— please, please don’t leave me out here. its so cold—“ he squishes your cheeks in his fingers, silencing you and forcibly pouting your lips. you looked so fucking pitiful, so stupid.

“this ain’t cold, baby— you don’t know real cold yet.”

you didn’t have time to guess what he meant before he pulled out his pocket knife, cutting through your clothes one layer at a time— first your flannel fell in tatters beneath you, and then your bra. your nipples hardened into pebbles at the exposure to the cold, and you couldn’t deny, even though ray was being so unfair to you, that a shameful pool of warmth was forming inside of your panties, only making your tears flow more freely.

a gnawing voice at the back of your head wondered if he was finally going to eat you, like he had promised all those months ago…

your jeans and panties he took off gently, unbuttoning the denim and shimmying them off of your legs together, kicking them to the side. he took one glance at your bare, glistening pussy and barked out a laugh.

“dirty little girl, huh? shoulda known this wouldn’t be much of a punishment for you.”

you wanted to cover up, hide from his mocking tone, but your hands were stuck in the rope suspending you in the air.

you yelp as he took two fingers, quickly swiping through your folds, collecting your sticky sweetness. he moans softly as he sticks them in his mouth, sucking your juices.

you were now completely naked. exposed. your hair was a mess, face a sloppy mix of tears and dirt, your body had small cuts from where his knife had nicked you.

“gotta teach you a lesson, not to be a brat, bun…”

and with that, he went back inside. you could hardly make out anything he might’ve been doing— maybe running water briefly. he had shut the curtains, your now only source of light coming from the sliver of moon that peeked through the misty clouds and leafless trees…

the cold had already started to get to you, icy wind licking your skin, freezing blood from your tiny wounds. pulling yourself free was no use— ray had tied your bindings far too tight, you could already feel the chilling numbness forming in the tips of your fingers and your wrists.

the sharp snap of a branch could be heard in the distance, and the hooting of an owl. you wondered if ray had intended to leave you out here, not for him to eat, but for the coyotes that lurked in the thick brush, always threatening to swallow the cat that sleeps in the woodshed.

you’d give anything for his warm purrs as he butted his head at your ankles, but it was the middle of the night. any company and semblance of warmth or comfort you could’ve had is gone.

tears had began to freeze against your cheeks, weighing down your lashes just slightly. you couldn’t even wipe them away, your cup your hands to warm your face with your breath. shivers wracked your body, teeth chattering.

snow had settled into you, soft white specs, and melting from your key temperature. after a while the thin trails began to chill onto your skin as well.

you’re not sure how long its been but you’re sure you won’t last much longer. the moon had barely moved from its peak. if this continued, you were sure you’d be dead by the first break of the dawn— an icy corpse ready to dismember.

nobody would come looking for you way out here, you learned that by now. he had reminded you enough.

your breath was thick, smoky puffs in front of you— you remember pretending you were a dragon as a kid. how you wish you actually were right about now. you can’t help but try and bark a laugh at the foolish, desperate thought, nothing but a scratchy sound coming from your throat.

your mouth had been almost perpetually open, inhaling the dry, frozen air that felt more like prickling needles burning your gums and throat.

you weren’t sure when you stopped crying, or when ray cut you loose. you were hardly conscious, body ice cold and shivering in his touch.

“shh, you’re fine baby. ain’t dead yet.” you chased the warmth from his body as he carried you back into his cabin, resting you on the couch by the fire. you hated how melted into his touch, hated how much you loved when he peppered your face with kisses, whispering about how well you took your punishment. such a good girl, so good.

“i don’t like having to punish you, sweet thing. but you give me no choice sometimes…”

you believed him. that all he wanted was to spoil and pamper you. truth is, he does it so you will act up, be a brat so he can punish you. he loves it.

but he’d never let you catch on.

he tied your hair up for you, offering your still nude body a heavy quilt as he brought you a bowl of soup. he knew your body was still weak, arms still numb from hanging above you for over an hour. he fed you, slowly and gently, before taking you to your now shared bedroom.

“you got something to say now, honey?” he asked, tying up your hair and holding you flush against him in bed. “c’mon, i know you can speak. use your words.”

“m’sorry, ray… won’t happen again.”

ray keeps his promise, untangling your leg from the wire— you hiss as your raw flesh is exposed to the cold night air, blood beginning to trickle down your thighs. you try to stand, legs wobbly from being stuck in your captive position so long.

luckily ray is there, and kind enough to catch you in his arms. your ear is to his chest, your injured leg bent at the knee and elevated.

“shhh, yeah that looks real bad, don’t it bunny?” he soothes you, petting his fingers through the leaves and dirt stuck in your once glossy hair, freshly washed and braided with the intention of sleeping in it. you whimper at the thought of how dirty you’ve gotten— your body covered in dirt, and blood, and cum.

“shh, shh.” ray takes your chin in his fingers, guiding your eyes to meet his. “can’t have you cryin’ now.”

you don’t even register what you’re doing— between the mix of seeking comfort from a warm embrace and the wetness that had coated the insides of your frilly panties from your earlier actions, you capture your lips with his.

he has to lean down just to meet you, and he does. he wants this, with you. one firm hand stays placed on your chin, the other snaking down, prodding your clit. you gasp as he feels the wet patch.

“needy little thing, shit.” you can feel him hardening against you, again, and you whine into his mouth. you’ve never felt like this before, never acted like a harlot. sure, you knew what sex was— you had just sucked his dick. amateurly, and mostly got face-fucked, but sucked it nonetheless.

“c’mon.” he guides you, carefully turning you around and allowing you to limp toward the trunk of a tree. he places both of your hands onto it. your hips are jutting out behind you with your ass against his crotch, which he wastes no time rutting into you.

“shiiit, bunny. haven’t— hah— haven’t had a sweet cunt in a while, yknow. don’t get a lotta visitors up here.”

you yelp as he cuts through your panties with his pocket knife, both from the air licking at your wetness and his knife knicking the skin above your ass. you weren’t sure if it was on purpose or not, but he doesn’t apologize, only swipes a finger from your clit to your taint, earning a mix of a laugh and a moan from the unfamiliar feeling.

“so fucking wet, yeah? all f’me bunny…”

you don’t see him suck the mixture of your wetness and blood into his both, almost groaning at the taste.

you can feel the warmth of his cock radiating onto you as he lines his tip up to your seeping cunt, pushing in agonizingly slow. the stretch burns despite the cocktail of your wetness and blood, gasps forcing their way out of your throat. your legs are shaking, his hands on your hips holding you as steady as he can.

“stop, stop— please it hurts, stop!” you whine, to no avail. your pleas falling on deaf ears as he bottoms out inside if you. blood and juices drip onto the forest floor below you as he moves at his own pace, no regard for the sobs racking through your body.

your palms rubbing raw from holding onto the tree trunk so you don’t fall limp.

after what feels like forever, the burn subsides and his movements begin to hit a soft, spongey spot inside of you that mixes deliciously with the pain of your wounds. you feel dizzy— be that from the white, hot pleasure he’s fucking into you or the loss of blood you’re not sure. you’re not even sure you care, a coil tightening inside of you, hot and fiery as the woodstove back at your grandparents cabin, where they think you’re sleeping.

“so good, bun— fuck, so good…” his thrusts are getting sloppy, his pace less brutal. his fingers reach over to toy with your clit, only a few messy movements of his hand and you’re gasping for air, cunt clamping and slamming around him. your body involuntarily convulsing, your moans broken and your throat scratching itself raw.

it doesn’t take much longer until his hips are stuttering and he stills inside of you, heavy breaths in your ears and a thick, warm liquid spilling into you.

you both stand there for a moment, catching your breath against the tree. you whimper as he starts thrusting again, gently, in and out of you— pulling out of you as gently as possible. your knees wobble, nearly sending you to the ground before ray catches you once again, allowing you to use him as a crutch.

“s’okay bunny, don’t worry. there we go, good girl…”

his words leave butterflies in your tummy.

“mmph— m’sorry, sir.” you yawn into his side.

“ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for, doll. c’mon, i’ll bring you back to my place, m’kay.” considering he had fantasized about kidnapping you not too long ago. had fantasized about eating you, devouring you like seared rabbit or venison hide. that alone should’ve been cause for you to resist. you should’ve resisted, shouldve ran. but you were heavy—sluggish with exhaustion and your leg was in no shape to be used as an escape...

you could only follow him, your arm wrapped around his back for support as you limped across the damp, autumn ground.

his place wasn’t too far, at least it didn’t seem so. he ran some hot water into a bowl and grabbed whiskey from the cupboard. you weren’t paying too much attention, your head in your arms as you rested on the kitchen counter, your injured leg propped up on the chair beside you.

you hiss as he dabbed a wet washcloth against your wounds.

“this is gonna sting s’more, okay? then we’ll get you all bandaged up— maybe it’ll teach you not to go places you don’t belong, little lady.”

you force yourself to keep quiet, teeth digging into the flesh of your hand as he dabbed the whiskey on your wound. he mumbled something about how disinfectant is only at the store in town and he hasn’t gone in god knows longer than he’s proud of…

he dries off the excess, bandaging your wound like he promised before lifting you up again. you’re lying on his couch, him combing the grime from your hair, using another wet cloth to clean off your legs, face, arms, and anywhere else that got stained by the dirt.

“you’re so much prettier in the light, doll. pretty thing like you shouldn’t get all messy like that.”

he caresses your cheeks, calloused thumbs swiping over them like you’re a dog or a child.

“you’ll be sleepin’ here, an’ i don’t wanna hear a word about it.” you smile softly. “in the mornin’ we’ll pay a visit to your folks and let them know what a naughty girl you’ve been, m’kay.”

you turn your head away from him, like a pouting child. telling your family? you thought he had liked you enough to at least spare you the embarrassment, but he was a stranger, after a—

“ah!” you cry out, his hand slapping your cheek. a warm, reddish mark quickly blooming.

“look at what you made me do, bun.” his words are harsh, but the way he brings your head to his chest as you choke back sobs, weakly trying to push him away. “m’sorry, but you gotta listen. not be a brat…”

“we’ll tell your folks you’ve been out past dark, n’then i’ll tell them all about your little accident, kay?” you just nod.

“good girl.” despite the pain, and the fear you now feel, you practically purr at the name, rubbing your thighs together absentmindedly.

“that wire sure was expensive, you think they’ll mind you comin’ here n’ working it off?…”

“i thought you said—“ he presses a firm finger to your lips, silencing you.

“don’t interrupt me.” he scolds. “i don’t want your money, ‘n i got enough wood to last me ten winters.”

you’d get so lonely down there, so he’d let you upstairs, giving you a warm bath while he innocently washes your hair and body. he’d sit down with you while you both ate dinner— maybe a chewy venison and potatoes. he’d let you sleep in his bed with him that night, holding you close to him. he’d gently shake you awake in the morning so you can keep him company while he makes breakfast, all of his pots and pans cast iron with handmade utensils.

he talks about how quiet it is out here, nobody around for miles— how when he saw a cute, young thing like you lost out here like a stray he just had to take you in. he brings a bowl of food in front of you, kissing your head, and youd get butterflies in your stomach from seeing him in the daylight coming through the window.

over months you’ve grown to trust him, to love him, to open your legs for him whenever either of you wanted. it was different upstairs than when he fucked you in his basement— the basement floor was cold and harsh and your spine rubbed against it uncomfortably. he always cleaned you up but the water was cold by the time he brought it down. upstairs, on his bed, it was warm and pleasant. he noticed you enjoyed yourself more, tugging your lips between your teeth to silence any moans. he couldn’t be having that, pinning your wrists above your head, saying that nobody can hear you way out here.

he said that once before, you remember, when he had threatened to break your legs if you tried to run…

occasionally he brings you into town with him in his beat up red pickup truck. some people double taking because you look eerily similar to the girl that went missing a few months ago, but you’d know better than to say anything, lowering rays baseball cap over your eyes while he guided you around the store, asking if there was anything you wanted.

you help with meals, and gardening even though you hate dirt. there’s a cat that hangs around the woodshed that catches mice— you let it lick the bones of animals that ray hunted for dinner clean when you were done with them.