Months since Gwen had joined the fight to protect the multiverse have passed. She had found a new family, one that supported and loved her. Jessica had convinced Miguel to let her stay close to the headquarters to be closer to the fight. Miguel, meanwhile, still showed his disdain for her. His cold eyes staring down at her were never affectionate. His teeth clenched together in a menacing scowl. He saw her as nothing more than an unruly child who was arrogant and smart-mouthed.
Or so she believed. What she didn't know was Miguel's hunger for her. The way he licked over his teeth when his back was turned. He envisioned his hands wrapped tight around her slender waist, squeezing down to feel the bones. He was fascinated with her, starving for the taste of her on his tongue.
He had decided to let her stay near him, in a lovely room of her own. Cacti and small flowers rested on the windowsill, and vines dropped along the side of her room. She had a pretty lava lamp on her nightstand that she looked at when she needed to sleep. She also had her own bathroom; how considerate of him.
Gwen stood in the center of her room, hair tied up into a tight ponytail. She had just saved another world, Earth 472. It was time for her to decompress, sliding the stiff suit off her body.
It slid down her shoulders and slipped past her waist, and she kicked the rest with her feet. Standing naked in the center of her room, her nipples hardening against the cold of the space. Small and hand-sized with a teardrop shape. She stretched her arms behind her back and huffed, "Finally able to get out of these damn-"
The door slammed open and hit against the back of the wall with a sharp thud. She jolted and turned to see Miguel standing and taking up the doorway. She swallowed, momentarily frozen in place. Only to retort with a squeak in her voice, "Miguel?! What the hell! Get out!"
She quickly moved to grab a blanket to cover herself up, but he was faster. His hand squeezed around her dainty wrist and kept her in place. His voice was heavy, and rage pulsed through the veins in his neck.
"I thought you said you fixed it, girl. You saved the wrong one. That woman was meant to die; didn't I teach you to do your research? Now I have to work through your mess."
Gwen's feet shifted away, pulling away her arm to jerk from his grip, but it was hopeless. She shifted between his eyes, not sure which one to look at. She could feel the heat in his grasp from fury. "I did! I… thought-"
"Well, you thought wrong!" He snapped, taking a moment to look down and admire her finally. His nose was breathing in sight. She was completely stripped and powerless.
Without saying anything, he snatched her waist in his hands, pulling her close. His nose nuzzled into the side of her hair, inhaling deeply. He felt pressure on his chest, trying to shove him away. He retaliated by digging his nails into the skin of her waist. "Don't make me hurt you, girl."
He let out the air he had welled up in his chest, his eyes rolling back as he drew in more of her scent. "You smell just like her." He muttered, lust dripping from his voice. His eyes were almost clouded over, something dark forming in his eyes.
His claws dug down her waist and across her soft thighs, only retracting to cup the front of her. Pressing his fingers against the seam of her cunt and distastefully scoffing. "You're not even a little wet? Really… maybe I need to fix that."
"Get your fucking hands off me!" She screamed, beating her fist into the broad shoulders of her assaulter, only silenced when a slap knocked her to her senses, teeth chattering together. Her nose ran cold as blood trickled down.
His tongue attacked the blood on her face like a rabid animal, tasting the iron on his tongue mixed with some sweetness. "Don't talk to me like that, my little love." He pressed back against her, using his fingers to spread her open, rubbing across the entrance.
Gwen's body froze as his hands violated her, sniffling as she tried her hardest to toughen through it. Her throat was squeezing shut, and she was finding breathing harder. Blood-creating rivers down the sides of her body made her feel woozy. Her stance was stumbling as a finger pressed against her. It was like a stab, tearing its way through her.
Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away from her, tasting her slick on the tip of his tongue. Only after he wiped it across her face, "You look so miserable… trying not to cry. Oh, my little Mariposa, learning so quickly not to struggle." He pressed his thumb against her cheek, pressing hard and roughly wiping away the tears that ran down. There is no comfort behind the touches. He wanted her to know she was trapped in his web.
She looked pathetically up to him, blue eyes shining with fear. "Are you done now? I promise I won't tell anybody." Her voice shook as she spoke, coughing out each word.
"Don't worry, dollface, I know you won't tell."
Teeth sunk into her jugular, piercing the skin and injecting her with venom. His hand pressed against the back of her neck to force her to take it.
All she could see as the world turned into fuzz was the sneer on his face and the dribble of blood dripping down his chin.
She awoke in a blur. The light blinded her as she tried to open her eyes, yet they snapped open when a hand jerked her jaw, forcing her to look up.
"How was your sleep, darling?"
Gwen blinked and looked around her surroundings. Grey. All she could see was grey. The smell of wet concrete filled her nose. She gulped and tried to yank at her hands, frozen when she heard the rattle of chains.
"Now, my pet, you can't get off your leash yet. Not quite yet, darling." He laughed and threw her away, standing up from kneeling before her and taking a few paces back. "Seems my dosage was a little strong. Two days, I had to inject you with something to wake you up finally."
His shoes tapped against the room floor, echoing in the spacious room. "Now, I could just give you food and be sweet. But… I think you have to work for it." He began to undo the belt on his hip, the distinct clanking of metals making Gwen shiver.
"You don't think I'll fuck you after this? Seriously?!"
"Playing hard to get? Don't worry, I know you'll crack. I like a good fight anyways."
He reached forward and ripped her legs open, ignoring how her torso squirmed as she tried to wriggle away. Miguel's talons clawed across the front of her belly. Watching as the blood trailed down.
Her head turned away not to watch what he was doing, anything to desensitize herself. She felt numb as his fingers dug into her, curling stiffly. The burn of her walls being stretched between two fingers was far away. It didn't feel like he was touching her skin but somebody else's.
Each thrust of his fingers, each bite on her thighs, and the sloppy wet kisses he forced upon her weren't real anymore. It was hazy and fogged up. Gwen felt almost peaceful as he assaulted her. She couldn't fight back; she couldn't scream. She was paralyzed under his grip.
Miguel pulled his fingers out, wrapping his tongue around the pink that coated them. "Don't give me that fucking look. You should have expected this. After all, it's your fault. Don't you know?"
He didn't earn a response, and nor did he care. His hands went to the seam of his belt and unbuckled. He was lashing it across her face once before throwing it away. His tip pressed against her entrance. It was twice the size of the hole he would be penetrating, but that didn't stop him. She was his toy to play with, and she needed to accept that.
Miguel forced himself inside, earning a scream from the girl below him. He licked over his teeth, tasting the air around her scream. His hips snapped into her as if she was an inanimate object. Her insides squeezed him, constricting his movements. Blood was coating their skin, but the signs seemed to come easier. The blood was the only thing lubricating the pressure that stabbed at her.
She tried to imagine her room. Not the one this monster had gifted her, but the one with her dad. She wanted to pretend she was in her bed, and she was stiff with sleep paralysis. The stiffness of her bones made them ache. She missed her dad.
She missed his tender hand against her cheek when she cried. She missed making remarks and making him groan in frustration. She could have been arrested if she stayed, but it was safer than this.
Gwen shook the thoughts from her head and focused on something else. Letting the pain belong to somebody else. It wasn't her body anymore. It wasn't her flesh he was ripping open. Someone distant. She felt like she was floating out of her body, and something else possessed it. Someone calmer and more suited to process it. And while she still felt the tear as he destroyed her, she almost felt peaceful.
The floating of her mind made her whole body numb. Her legs were flopping in the abuser's hold. Her hands were gentle and limp in the restraints that held her back. She didn't feel the fear anymore.
Miguel's hands clenched around her throat, shaking and tossing her around. He liked how scared she looked as her head flopped. Her stare was off past him and not quite focused. Her pupils were blown, and drool trickled through the crease of her lips.
His tongue lapped across her spittle, taking it into his mouth to taste it. Savor her. Each thrust was getting sloppier. His breath shuddered, and he struggled to keep looking at her. His brows furrowed as a grunt left his lips, and he entered her. His hand wrapped around the base, giving a few pumps to empty her and pull out.
He licked the slick between his fingers and hummed. She tasted like purity and metal. Each glide of his tongue over his fingers was dire. He was an addict and had to fight to get another taste from the source.
Instead, he stepped away and adjusted himself. She was sliding back on his clothes and kicking her in the side. A rumble vibrated in his throat. She couldn't even cry. She could only curl into her own body.
"Now, what happens when you bad mouth me? I could have been nice to you. After all, you're just like my daughter. But you had to run your fucking mouth."
Gwen's throat was bruised, and her voice was a horse as she mumbled a feeble "sorry." In response. He didn't believe her. Nobody could change that fast, so instead, he left the room. Leaving her cold against the ground with his cum dripping from her and forming a pink puddle on the ground.
Two days passed before Miguel showed up again. He made his way to the corner of the room, setting up a tripod and a camera. Pointed right at his stolen treasure.
After he made his way towards her and kicked up her head with the tip of his shoe. "C'mon, get up." He grumbled, not having the patience to deal with her nonsense.
Gwen crawled up to a sitting position like a weak kitten, dragging herself upright to look at him.
"Good girl, already learning not to fight back. Now you see that camera over there? It'll keep watch on you. I'll watch everything you do. Can't you try to hurt yourself?"
Gwen gulped and looked towards the device and back towards Miguel with a gulp. "I won't… I promise."
Miguel scoffed but surprisingly didn't punish her for speaking. "I can't trust you yet."
He lowered himself to her level, tracing his hand along her arm, slipping to her jutting ribs and feeling between the bumps with delicate fingertips. He studied the way they'd define more with each exhale.
He pressed down on the ridge of her skeleton, feeling it almost bend. He could squeeze her tight enough and shatter them. Miguel glided his touch back and forth against the hollow of her flesh. He tip-toed his way down to the bottom of the ribcage. His thumbs dug their way into her and pressed up, almost hooking her.
His tongue brushed over the skin of his teeth. Gwen was a doll in his possession. He could do anything he wanted with her.
He loved being able to have her at his disposal. She was helpless against him, and her eyes were already clouding. An almost white film casts over them as she observes his motions.
He lowered his lips to press against her navel, kissing the desiccated blood wounds from his scratches. Her skin is perfect for him to scar and bruise. Her neck is already a collage of blues and purples from strangling her. She was gorgeous when she was cracking. He loved his girls to be broken, and she wasn't quite there yet.
"How about I make a deal with you? I'll undo your restraints if you suck me off. If you do a good job, I'll keep them off and feed you."
Gwen's blurry, distant sight cleared when she heard the words echoing around her head. A wake-up call to her. She parted her chapped lips, the air feeling cold as it entered her mouth. "Yes." Was all she could muster through rasped speech.
He hummed and cupped her cheek, positioning himself to kiss her forehead. Taking in another longing whiff of her hair. Despite it being greasy and unwashed, the smell of dried sweat was delicious.
He reached around, unhooking the clasps around her wrist, and pulled her onto his lap. He brought her arm up and kissed around the bruises on her skin from being held down. "Darling, I wish you'd just listen instead of hurting yourself. Wouldn't that be much easier?"
Gwen nuzzled against his shoulder, sniffling as she fought back her tears. The endearment was strange, and yet she couldn't fight against it. She longed for the love he could give her. Maybe he was right. If she were better behaved, perhaps he wouldn't hurt her so much.
His tender caresses against the markings on her skin shifted as he slipped her off his lap and placed her on the cold concrete.
Miguel tiptoed his fingers down her jawline, resting under her chin. He tilted her head up when he climbed into his feet. "You're so beautiful when you're like this Gwen." He praised, his knees weakening when her head cocked to the side.
He regained himself and slipped his pants down, pressing the tip of his cock against her lips. A huff left him as she instinctively wrapped her mouth around the head, her tongue sliding into place underneath.
Her eyes were like glass. Transparent and light, reflecting blankly in the luminescence of overhead lights. She needed to be more focused on reality. She was in a different dimension, focusing on everything around her except Miguel. And yet, he was all her focus.
The dark of her pupils was blown as she rutted her mouth against him. Drool was coating the bottom of her chin, slipping down her neck, and sticky smacks echoed while she dug her jagged and broken nails into his thighs.
She gagged while making her way down, whining as her nose prodded the hard of his pubic bone. Gwen was choking on the air she had a limited supply of. Pressure was building up in her ears and eyes, pulling away to sputter and clasp for air to refill her chest.
She proceeded to lip a circle around the head, massaging her tongue into a rhythm. Each glide of her tongue was light, tracing every part of him. Her eye contact remained strong, not daring to break the safety of knowing what he was doing.
Miguel's head was cocked and leaned back, petting the shaved back of her head. She was a dog, lapping at him for food. Sweet, blank eyes looking to him for direction. She was his.
He sank his fangs into his lips, fighting to keep his silence as she began to make a pattern of rising and falling. Circling and tracing with her fingertips what her mouth couldn't handle. Miguel knew he had done good by choosing her; she was so easy to break in.
"Baby girl, if I would have known you were such a good cock sleeve, I think I would have taken you in so much faster. You're so worthless on the team but at this? You're perfect."
She was crying now, not because of the bruising of her throat, but knowing she couldn't make anybody happy. She was nothing before, but should she complain if she's being useful now? Should she fight him anymore? She was making someone proud of her, and she was being useful. All she wanted was to be useful.
She reached her hand down to rut against something, wanting to feel good as well. The tears and spit mixed as they dripped off the bottom of her chin. She could feel him twitching against the skin of her tongue, sliding up and down the slit to draw it out of him.
She wanted to make him cum, to taste the salt and the acidity, and know she made him feel good. If she could make him pleased, she would be useful to him. She just wanted to be somebody to someone.
Talons scratched the back of her head, forcing her down as he filled her throat, emptying out. His breath was heavy, and a growl bit back in his throat. "That's a good girl." He praised, pulling away and using a thumb to clean off the dribble that slipped past.
Soon, his eyes met her vigorous jabbing motions at her cunt, circling to try and get off herself. Her face was screwed up into a swirl of pleasure as she felt herself getting closer and closer until Miguel used his foot to kick her hand away.
"Did I say you could do that? Oh, Mi Cielito, don't you know? You're only allowed to cum if it's me touching you. And I don't feel like helping you right now. I'm sorry, baby."
He watched as her face dropped, her voice rose, and she mewled out a plea, her eyes looking up for help. She wanted to feel good, too, but his glare quickly made her stiffen and recoil. She knew her place, and she knew not to argue with him.
Miguel chuckled as he watched her squirm, wiggling in frustration to ride down the edge of being so close and yanked away at the end.
He redid his clothes and left the room without a word, returning moments later with a sandwich.
"Are you hungry, my princess?"
Gwen hadn't had time to focus on anything but surviving and pleasuring Miguel. She had forgotten her hunger. Her mouth felt dry as she raised her voice to talk, "Yes, sir."
Miguel tore off a piece of the sandwich, "Well, here you go, baby. I'll bring you water down in a bit." He promised as he slipped the food into her mouth.
Gwen's palette was confused as he didn't pull away his fingers, but she was too hungry to care. She scavenged around, digging at the food between his fingertips, swallowing when she got a proper grip. Her tongue searched for more, curling around his fingers. She coated them in a film of saliva, only able to see it when he pulled them out, and the string connected her lips and his fingers.
Piece by piece, he fed her until the last bite was in his hold, "This is the last one, darling, try and savor it." He cooed as he slipped it into her mouth. She swallowed the piece quicker than she could taste it. However, she held him in place when Miguel attempted to retract his hand. Her tongue searched again, sucking and chewing on the skin to soak in the taste. She was scouring for any remnants she could have missed, but there was nothing. She whined and pulled back, nuzzling into her knees afterward.
"Don't pout, baby girl; I'll bring you more the longer you deserve it."
He nuzzled his nose against her shoulder, drawing in the sweet scent of sweat and her innocence.
Months passed, and Gwen had begun to learn her place in this world. She was nothing more than a tool for disposal for Miguel, but she was also his love. His wife, his everything.
And Miguel had decided it was time. He was going down the creaky steps to the sweet child trapped in his basement. Whose head perked up, and she bounced over. She kissed his cheek and neck, a smile beaming from her teeth.
"Always so happy to see my Gwen… such a good girl you are." He cooed, picking her up and holding her against his chest. "How would you like to live upstairs with me?"
Bright eyes filled with fear, frowning as she quickly shook her head, "You said… If I went back up, people would take me away. You said… You said it was dangerous. I'll be useless again if they take me! I'll-!"
Her words were hushed as his finger pressed against her lip, adjusting her to lay over his shoulder. "Only if you try to leave me. But you wouldn't. You'd never leave me, right baby girl?"
She rapidly shook her head and clung to the silk of his shirt, sniffling as she imagined being unimportant and abandoned again. She didn't want anybody but him. She didn't need anybody but him.
"Attagirl." He praised, leading her up the steps and to the main bedroom, placing her softly on the bed and curled up behind her, stroking the sides of her hips.
He moved to crawl into the top of her and stroked the soft of her cheeks. Her eyes were hollow. Each touch he made towards her felt like it wasn't her skin.
Her lips didn't match the girl he had taken in he had cared for months. He licked across the smooth of her neck and to her collarbone, but it was tasteless.
His hand pressing between her thigh burned for her to fight and snap a remark at him. Something that reminded him of who she was.
The kisses that railed down to her stomach and the licks that lapped at the core of her pussy were mechanical. They had no love or feeling behind them anymore.
She didn't speak unless it was to be a calculated and blank speech of how amazing and perfect he was. The way her hips matched his thrusts was inhuman. Each one lacked a lust.
Even when he managed to cum into her, she didn't do anything but smile so sickeningly sweet up to him. A plaster skin that didn't change unless he asked for it.
He had everything he could want now. Gwen was finally his. She never wanted to leave him, and yet he ached. She was a shell of the girl she used to be. She was empty and only serving him as a puppet he had created.
He was left unsatisfied and shallow against the girl whose body pressed close to his own. She was frozen and dead against his palms, even in the warmth of flesh.