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“Rise and shine, pumpkin!”
You lurch awake at the voice, immediately recognizing it as your captor despite being blindfolded. Your pulse spikes. Despite being heavily drugged, you can’t help the sobs that erupt from you, the damp cloth around your eyes collecting more of your tears. Tears of confusion and frustration.
“Oh, sunshine, why are you crying?” Lloyd coos, his fingers brushing across your cheekbone with no warning. You flinch away from the touch and start flailing your limbs as best you can with them tied to the bed frame.
He chuckles, clearly enjoying your distress.
“Come on now, you’re still mad at me? All I did was drug you and kidnap you.” He says. You feel his warm hand rest on your collarbone, and he moves it down your chest, pausing just above your navel and letting his palm lay heavy. Though the touch is revolting but involuntary calms you, your whimpers ceasing.
“I’m going to be honest. All I want to do is play with you, maybe see if I can make you break. But we’ll get there. Right now, I just wanna have a chat.” He says matter of factly, making you tremble while you await his next move. You try to ignore how soothing Lloyd's hand is against your naked skin, a pleasant contrast to the cold room surrounding you.
You involuntarily whimper around the scratchy cloth gag, pressing at it with your tongue.
“I’m going to take your blindfold off now,” you cringe again when you feel how close he is, breath against your cheek when he whispers in your ear. He pulls the fabric away from your eyes and you squint, expecting to be met with bright light.
But it’s just Lloyd, with his stupid mustache curved upwards from his wide grin. His face is illuminated only by a dim lamp on the table beside the bed you’re lying on, and the way he’s positioned, the light creates shadows on his face that make him look all the more predatory.
You break the blurry eye contact to peer around the room, mostly hidden by shadows, and can barely see the single door and the absence of other furniture. Lloyd watches with a curious glint in his eyes as you finally look down at your body. You could feel it, but seeing yourself bound makes you want to scream.
You’re spread eagle before your captor. Although you’re clothed, you’re completely vulnerable before Lloyd who’s trying to gauge your reaction.
Forgetting your gag, you begin murmuring the start of a question before stopping when you hear the garbled words.
“What was that, sunshine? You want to say something?” Lloyd sounds playful, pleased by the whole situation. He pulls out the gag, watching as you let out a few coughs and wet your mouth.
You try again. “Are you gonna kill me, Lloyd?” It comes out a lot clearer than you were expecting. You can barely keep your eyes open, whatever Lloyd stuck you with is making your head spin.
“You’re a smart girl. You can figure out my intentions with you.” He stands and looms over your vulnerable form. His eyes rake over your body, not that you can see; his new height makes it impossible to look at him straight.
“I’ll bet you know just what I’m going to do to a conniving slut who thinks she can steal from Lloyd Hansen.” He growls, putting extra emphasis on the insult. He leans back abruptly and you watch with your lip between your teeth as he makes his way to the foot of the bed.
You scoff under your breath. “ ‘Thinks.’ ”
Lloyd smacks your calf hard, making you shout and kick against your ties again.
“No talking back,” he snaps. “You’re already in deep shit, don’t make me spank you like a little brat.”
You wrinkle your nose, averting your eyes to instead peer down at where he’s fiddling with the ties around your ankles.
“Or do,” He continues, “You’re getting hit regardless.”
Schooling your face against his words, you otherwise ignore him. He cuts both zip ties easily using a small knife, and ice runs through your veins seeing your captor is now armed.
Lloyd twirls the knife around in his hand as he crawls on the bed, throwing a leg over your knees in a straddle. He reaches his unoccupied hand below the hem of your shorts and panties, holding them away from your trembling stomach and situating the blade to the fabric.
He notices your unwavering gaze on the weapon.
“Relax,” he starts ripping through your clothes with the blade, eyes focused on the task while he talks. “Y’know, for a criminal, you sure are boring. I haven’t even started, and you’re shaking like a leaf.”
He tears the fabric in two simple lines, letting them fall away around you. Your cheeks darken, but you brush off the humiliation when he doesn’t acknowledge your exposed flesh, instead standing on his knees to bend over you, reaching for your wrist.
When he starts to remove the tie there, you cannot help but ask: “Why not strip me before tying me up?” your voice has a teasing lilt despite your trepidation, which Lloyd appreciates with another laugh.
“I’d like to say I enjoy unwrapping my presents, but… I think you’re more of a trophy.” He leans toward your other arm and slices the zie before settling back, resting his weight back on you. “Presents are usually expected, I thought that was my control over you.”
Your other hand falls free, and he grips your jaw, focusing your eyes on his, now filled with hunger. “No. You’re my trophy. Something I had to win.”
Pulling at his forearm with your now free hands, he releases his grasp on your face.
You manage to smile humorlessly. “What makes you think you had any control over me in the first place?” You fight against the syrupy sensation in your veins, refusing to back down even though you know you’re no match against him. If you can’t beat him, you can at least try to piss him off.
But then again, you’re dealing with Lloyd, the notoriously unpredictable lunatic.
His mouth slowly morphs into a manic smile, and then he climbs off the bed, one again standing over you with one hand on his hip, the other idly twirling the dagger. You, with your hands politely resting in your lap, naked except for your t-shirt, and squinting up at him with what you hope is a look of pure hatred.
But to Lloyd, you resemble an angry bunny. You’re no longer tied up, and based on your still shaking form, all your nerves are screaming at you to make a break for it. It’s your stubbornness that keeps you frozen in place, relentless in your determination to show no fear towards the other man. All you can manage are your feeble little sass-backs. You both know you’re outmatched.
“Oh, Sunshine, you’ve grown so much.” Lloyd reaches for you, trying to annoy you and expecting you to move away again, but you let him hold your cheek in his hand. He continues, now, with your undivided attention.
“Do you remember the first time we met? Denny called me after you extorted, what, a hundred grand? And turned into a ghost? But I found you.” A shudder rolls through you as you’re forced to relive one of the most challenging decisions of your life. Your involuntary movement seems to remind Lloyd of his plans, and he grips the hem of your shirt, beginning to pull it up and off of you.
You immediately protest this and try with all your might to shove his hands off of you, kicking your feet in a desperate attempt to put space between you two. Lloyd puts the knife on the sides table beside the bed, using both hands to dodge your blows calmly, but his patience quickly dies out.
“Hey!” He shouts, which manages to startle you enough for him to land a punch to your stomach. Your body contracts as all the air is knocked out of you. While you’re focused on breathing, Lloyds plucks the knife back up and decides just to cut the shirt off you too. You can’t even scream when he forgoes being gentle, letting the blade run heavily across your skin as he slices through the fabric.
You’re finally able to get a full lungful of oxygen when Lloyd removes the scraps of your shirt from your bleeding torso, and you gape in horror at him. He simply shrugs and continues his monologue like nothing happened.
“I’ll never forget that look on your face when you saw me. I know the ski mask was overkill, but I’m a sucker for the cliche, you know that.” He laughs, but his voice is so gentle as if this is a fond memory for the both of you. He doesn’t take his eyes off you when he unbuckles his belt, silent as he pulls it from its loops.
You’re not sure whether he’s going to beat you with it or tie you up, but you offer your wrists hoping to sway him to the latter. Much to your chagrin, he thanks you and wraps the leather around your arms. Then he harshly yanks them above your head to tie them to the headboard, this time above your head. The ache in your stomach keeps you from fighting back, allowing him to bind you again.
“I know I had control over you. I know I still do because you’re still my boring little troublemaker after all this time. Even before you stole from Carmichael, you were wrapped around my finger, cupcake. You couldn’t even look at me!” You meet his eye instinctively but curl your lip at his words.
“I was trying to stay off your radar! I can’t help that you have a fetish for unconsenting women, you obsessive freak!” You all but scream at him, unsurprised when his expression remains the same; a warm smile, like he’s enamored with you.
You always resented Lloyd for involving you in his antics when you worked for the CIA. He single-handedly made your superiors hate you just as much as they hated him. Everyone believed you were his plaything; only Denny and Suzanne knew the truth, having known Lloyd for so long, but Suzanne hated you anyway for some unknown reason.
Carmichael liked to torment you, too, but his advances were much less threatening. That’s why you chose to steal from him originally.
Not only did you have full access to Carmichael’s bank accounts, you had his trust. Although Lloyd’s fascination with you was perverted, to say the least, he never actually crossed the touching boundary, unlike Carmichael, who put his hands on you the first chance he got. You played the part beautifully, even making advances towards him yourself—whatever it took.
You thought it was a dirty secret between Denny and you, not knowing he’d been gossiping with Lloyd like a high schooler the whole time, though you weren’t shocked. No secrets were ever kept from Lloyd. And Lloyd loved rubbing it in your face. He always stared at you with an insufferably knowing smile, making offhanded comments and innuendos at every chance.
Lloyd looks at you now with the same knowing glint in his eye.
“You can play the victim card all you like, princess, but you and I both know you were gagging for it. Denny trusted you long before you started giving him head left and right. I’ll bet if he told you to, you’d have blown me too.” You shake your head vehemently.
“I’ll bite it off,” You whisper, and Lloyd responds with a loud laugh, throwing his head back, then grabs his crotch and hisses through his teeth with a mocking wince.
“I think you won’t, but that’s a fair threat. Let's put a pin in that one, hmm?”
He strolls away from beside you to the foot of the bed again, a slow stride like he has all the time in the world. Spinning on his heel to face you, he lands with his hands clasped behind his back and feet shoulder-width apart. He silently observes you with an insufferably smug smirk that makes his mustache lopsided.
“Alright, enough talk. Time to play.” He murmurs seductively.
You hold your breath as your whole body tenses up at his words. All the little fight you have left is slowly seeping away. Your harsh words only excite Lloyd further, and that's the last thing you want. Your last resort of defense is your custom whenever you’re faced with your tormenter: Close in on yourself and wait for it to be over.
At least you won’t have to pretend you enjoy it like you did with Carmichael.
Lloyd leans forward and plants his hands on the bed, your only warning before he lunges at you and grips your ankles, pulling your legs straight and climbing on top of you. Your calves are entirely trapped beneath his weight, all you can do now is watch fearfully, begging him with your eyes to please stop this.
He just winks at you, then looks down at your apex, making you clench your thighs, despite them already being clamped together due to the way he straddles your legs. Your puffy lips hide your core and he lays his hand just above your mons and pushes your lower stomach toward your naval, exposing your clit and (unfortunately) slick petals. The action makes tears well up in your eyes, how Lloyd maneuvers your chubby stomach to reveal your hidden parts. It makes you look away in shame, going unnoticed by him.
Lloyds places the pad of his thumb over your clit with his other hand and releases your stomach to watch your lips close around the digit. He begins rubbing slow circles and looks up at your face, seeing you turned away with your cheeks flushed dark red. He pauses his movements but keeps his thumb on you.
“Look at me,” he whispers, and you obey, blinking through the tears that trickle down your cheeks. You see an expression on his face you’ve never seen from him before. His brows are cinched together in a foreign look of concern.
“Are you embarrassed?”
You scoff. “Obviously! You’re about to rape me…” You trail off when he shakes his head.
“I’m still going fuck you, but why are you hiding now?” He resumes the circles on your clit. “Are you insecure about your weight?”
“What?” Your eyebrows shoot up, the claim taking you aback. “You’re seriously asking me that right now?” You yank on the belt around your wrists, trying to pull yourself away to no avail.
Lloyds shrugs a shoulder, then he arches over you, his free hand supporting his weight while he leans close to your face.
“I’m asking because it’s a stupid fucking thing to be ashamed of. I know how Denny feels about big girls, but one: you’re not fat, and two: I may be an asshole, but I am not a shallow man.” He increases the pressure on your clit, rubbing you faster. That plus his proximity force you to gasp your first sound of pleasure. You quickly bite your lips to stifle any more from slipping out.
“I don’t care,” you whine. You don’t understand why Lloyd is telling you this, as if you’d gain any respect toward him for his sexualization of one of your biggest insecurities. Lloyd loves hearing himself talk as much as he loves torturing you, if the erection he’s grinding against your thighs tells you anything.
He huffs at your response and adjusts the hand against your core, sliding his middle finger easily through your lips and swiftly inside you. You barely have time to curse your body for betraying you when Lloyd curls his finger against the spongy spot of your walls, in time with the thumb on your clit. He watches you raptly, how your face crumbles as your desire takes over. Then he ducks his head down below your chin and bites the skin of your neck, almost hard enough to break the skin.
You cry out, utterly confused how the sharp pain somehow enhances the pleasure from his unwanted touch. You can’t control it when your orgasm hits.
“You’re something special, pumpkin.” Lloyd groans against your throat, kissing the skin there.
You manage to hold in your moans throughout your high, but the feeling of his lips and facial hair pulls a strained squeak out of you, much to his delight. He pulls away and you open your eyes, flinching at how close he is to your face, you have to cross your eyes to meet his gaze.
“I hate you,” you whisper, watching his eyes crinkle in mirth.
Then he kisses you, and you know you’ve lost yourself because the feeling of his soft lips against your own makes you melt. Lloyd smiles against your lips when you sigh and sag against the bed, in his eyes a show of submission. He takes advantage of your open mouth and runs his tongue across your teeth, deepening the kiss, and you let your body take over as your previous panic becomes a distant memory. You tilt your head and press your tongue against his own, trying to push it out of your mouth and kiss him properly. The feeling makes his body twitch and you’re reminded of the thumb still pressed against your pulsing clit, his digits deep in your core. You buck your hips the best you can with his weight still holding your legs down.
Lloyds breaks the kiss with a smack and removes his hand with a wet sound, smirking at your displeased face as you’re still too shy to talk. You’re definitely not going to beg him to touch you. At least not yet, your ever-crumbling resolve makes you think twice. He sucks his fingers clean of your arousal in such a nonchalant way it makes you clench around nothing.
“I was planning on making you come at least three times before making sweet, sweet love to you,” he tries to tease, but you’re so wound up you’ll take anything he throws at you. You grimace at his words nonetheless. “But I need you so bad princess and this cock aint getting any harder.” He smooths his hands up your arms, still bound, the touch against the sensitive undersides makes you whimper and you try to rub your thighs together.
Lloyd catches your movement and a smug smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. He stands on his knees and pulls his shirt over his head, carelessly tossing it aside and moves your legs out from under him to wrap around his hips. You wince at the tingling sensation in your feet as the blood flow returns to your legs.
Lloyd stares down at you with a rapt expression, unbeknownst to you as your attention is focused on the movement of his hand. He follows your eyes and slowly reaches beneath the hemline of his boxers, eyes flicking to your face to watch your reaction when he pulls out his cock.
Your brows shoot up at his size, mouth dropping open subconsciously. Meeting his gaze, you scowl at the smug grin tugging at his lips.
“Surprised?” He drawls, gripping himself at the base and tapping the cherry-red head on your mons. You don’t answer, back to subtly admiring his girth with a frown as you always assumed his overall personality was an overcompensation, but his dick is beautiful. An adjective you never thought you’d use for someone’s penis, let alone Lloyds.
Your shame over your mind and body’s betrayal makes you try to turn away again, but you’re stopped by his free hand shooting up to grip your jaw, forcing you to look at him.
“Keep your eyes on me, sunshine. If you look away again I’ll find a way to keep those eyes open, and I can guarantee you won’t like it.” Lloyd says the last part with a wicked smile, removing his hand and leaning down on his elbow, caging you in.
With a last-ditch attempt to stop him, you whisper in a small voice. “Please…” Feeling the head of his cock notch at your entrance. Lloyd shushes your pleads, placing his arm beside you to mirror the other. His face inches away from your own, he leans down and presses a kiss to your cheek as he thrusts into you in one motion, your abundant slick allowing him to bury himself to the hilt.
The sudden stretch is agony, going from empty to completely full. You can’t stop the scream that bursts from you, Lloyd immediately going into damage control despite his groan from feeling your tight walls surrounding him. He lets you adjust, kissing away your tears and whispering praises into your mouth until your cries turn into small whimpers.
The pain subsides into an almost numbing burn, and you find yourself needing comfort. You tug at your binds weakly, looking up at him pleadingly in a silent request. Lloyd understands instantly, his features softening, and he leans up over you to reach your wrists. His movement changes the angle of his cock inside you, the sensation making you gasp, whilst he inadvertently presents his chiseled stomach before your face. You’re not in control when you lean your check against his warm skin, feeling his abs flex from the effort of holding himself up with one arm, his other succeeding in releasing your arms.
Lloyd laughs at your affectionate gesture, and the vibrations against your face makes you ignore the intense ache in your shoulders when you wrap your arms around his torso, burying your face into his stomach.
“Oh, pumpkin. I gotta say, I am loving how sweet you’re being. You just need to touch me, huh?” He cradles the back of your head for a moment, before gently releasing your iron grip around him and resuming his previous position. Your hands move to his shoulders and you sigh in relief at the contact, though your arms shake from exertion after being above you for so long.
“I still hate you,” You grumble, slightly digging your nails into his skin. Lloyd takes that as his sign to start moving, beginning a slow grind that rubs his pelvis on your clit.
“Boring. Don’t you think it’s time to stop lying to yourself?” Lloyd doesn’t break eye contact when he says this.
“What?” You whine, barely hearing him as the pleasure overtakes you.
“I know you want this, you always have,” Lloyd groans, speeding his thrusts until the sounds of his hips slapping against your ass fills the room, mingling with your moans.
“All it took was a few threats and you’re falling apart for me.” He continues, speaking directly into your ear, “You didn’t need to steal from me to get my attention, sunshine. All you had to do was ask.”
You shake your head, eyes tightly shut. “You took me, I didn’t have a choice,” voice wavering from his brutal pace, “Just stop talking!”
“Hmm.” Lloyd sounds displeased. You feel his breath on your face and open your eyes, just in time to get a glimpse of his squinted eyes before your head is thrown to the side. The pain from his slap draws a cry from you and you move your hands from where they slid down to his biceps to cradle your face.
Lloyd gathers your wrists in one hand and presses them into the pillow above you, using his other hand to lift your leg over his shoulder. The new angle allows him to go even deeper, and you wail at the sensation of him slamming into your g-spot with every thrust.
“Did Denny ever fuck you like this? Or did he prefer to bend you over his desk so he wouldn’t have to see you?” He asks casually, not even a little exerted from his almost violent movement.
You see red at the mention of Carmichael, adrenaline rising enough for you to break one hand free, surprising you both when you blindly reach toward the nightstand and manage to grab the knife he left there. Lloyd isn’t fast enough, grabbing your wrist right as you stab him in the shoulder.
He bares his teeth, face contorting in pain, and jerks back with a loud yell. The distraction is only enough for your leg to fall, and you attempt to kick him in the nose, being stopped by his swift recovery. Lloyd digs his fingers into your thigh and shoves you back down, pulling out the knife with another angry shout, and pressing the blade to your jugular.
You let out your own scream of frustration, not only at your attempt of escape being easily thwarted, but the fact that Lloyd didn’t soften at all from being stabbed. If anything, you can feel him throbbing within you.
“You stupid bitch, you think you can outsmart me?!” He digs the knife deeper into your flesh, ruby red beads beginning to trickle out, contrasting Lloyd’s wound, which is steadily pouring blood all over you. “You think I’d set the knife there not expecting you to use it?” He growls, “I’m just shocked you didn’t go for the heart, cupcake!”
He’s slamming into you now, painfully jabbing at your cervix and making you sob every time he bottoms out. You cling to the arm holding the blade to your neck, trying futilely to lessen the pressure.
You don’t want to die like this.
“Please.” You wheeze, looking up at him. His eyes are closed and his thrusts become sloppy. With one last hard slam of his hips, he lets out a loud and primal groan, buried deep in your pussy. You whimper when you feel his cock pulsing, filling you to the brim with his come.
Lloyd drops the knife and collapses on top of you, flinching when the action presses his wound against you. You stare blankly at the ceiling, silent tears steadily streaming down your temples into your hair. His weight on top of you is making it hard for you to breathe, but you can’t bring yourself to care.
After a minute he finally stirs, turning his head to smack a kiss to the side of your neck before pushing off you. He stands next to the bed and stares down at your unmoving form, all the fight drained from you.
“I hope you learned your lesson, cupcake.” Lloyd strokes your hair away from your face. “You’re staying with me now, okay?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer, leaving the room and closing the door behind him.
Once you can no longer hear his footsteps, the dam finally breaks and you begin hysterically sobbing, wrapping your arms around yourself and turning onto your side.
You don’t want to know what else he has planned for you, you just hope he doesn’t come back any time soon.