>Wrote this for the SO using her favorite Overwatch character. It’s not exactly a masterpiece but I thought it might be enjoyed by someone so here it is. Enjoy. Names were changed, obviously. And apologies for the formatting, it was a nightmare to get it to this point let alone try to make it pristine.
The breeze was a minor factor, a slight annoyance as she looked down the scope of the high powered rifle. It meant minor adjustments, slight calculations that were made in the back of the mind, things that she didn’t even consciously consider anymore. It wasn’t necessary to. The breeze caught at the fringes of her black hair and shook it this way and that, making the tight ponytail of lengthy hair like a flicking tail, a pendulum marking the moments left.
She paused for a moment and lowered the rifle, the scope receding, the rifle collapsing into its more compact form as she relaxed for a moment. A hand rose to her ear, pressing at the comlink within her helmet. “Widowmaker, au rapport,” she said, her voice a firm but quiet sound, a tone that gave information and expected nothing but what she needed in return.
The comlink crackled for a moment as the man on the other end went through the file he’d been sent for this mission. She didn’t know his name, didn’t need to. He was a grunt, fulfilling his purpose for this mission. He might work with her for a hundred missions or he might never speak with her again. It didn’t matter, she had no attachment, no desire to know anymore than what was absolutely necessary, and the name to go with the voice on the other end of her radio was not one of those things.
“Target is a young woman, Kelly Calumn. Early twenties, brown-red hair. We believe she has information on members of Overwatch. You’re supposed to take her alive and interrogate. A safe house is located nearby and marked out on your helmet’s GPS for you.” Widowmaker nodded once to herself, absorbing the information for the sixth time. She’d read the files herself already, she had come here prepared, but it was good to keep reminders, to keep the images fresh and ready. It wouldn’t do to make a mistake. She rarely did so, but it was best to plan for the worst.
“Understood.” She cut the channel and returned to her watching. The pieces of her gear came into place, metal plates with red lenses sliding into place over her eyes to enhance her vision and spread it wide, giving her greater view of the city about her vantage point atop at all roof. At the same time the rifle rose and expanded again, the scope rising and the mechanisms whirring to life as they charged for a powerful shot. “Allez… montre-toi…”
*************
“Brr, cold one tonight,” she muttered to herself as she walked along the dimly lit sidewalks, the noise of the city a faded and distant thing on this edge of things, leaving the slight breeze and the occasional skittering of leaves or refuse being blown along the pavement as the only sounds to accompany her walk. The day had been long and dull, the job simple and uninteresting as usual, but now it was at its end and home was in sight of her mind’s eye.
She moved quickly, bag over her shoulder and trying not to shiver too much with each chilling breeze that blew through her hair and tugged at the edges of her light jacket. Plain pants and a simple uniform shirt were ill suited protection against the chill, and so it was that she was trying to hurry home as quickly as possible, eager for a night in, of warm comfort and simple relaxation. She didn’t hear the shot, barely felt it. One moment she was hurrying along, and the next there was a sharp sting between the shoulder blades, like the sting of a rather large wasp. “What… what the…”
The world spun, swayed and shook around her, the ground seemed to riot beneath her legs as they gave out. She found herself tumbling to the ground with a gasp of pain. Blackness began to descend upon her vision, the lights and sounds fading as she passed from consciousness.
Nearly a mile away atop a tall building, the blue skinned assassin lowered her rifle and let her headgear recede to its resting position. “Ca pique, n’est-ce pas?” she muttered softly to herself. For just a moment there was a brief twitch of her face, as if she were trying to smile, or smirk, but had forgotten how, as if her face simply couldn’t make the gesture any longer. And then it was gone, like a ghost whispering away into the night, something you might have seen but can’t be sure.
It hardly mattered now. Widowmaker slid her compacted rifle into the holstering position on her back, letting it click into place before she took her leave. She stepped upon the building’s edge and then another step, and then she fell, racing towards the ground. There was no fear or concern, simply planning as she took aim and fired, grappling hook and line shooting from the metallic device on one arm and crashing bodily into the wall of a building, holding firm as she swung through the open air, landing on the next building in line, closer to the ground.
She repeated the process several times, moonlight glittering on the metal of her gear and off the tight contours of her sleek suit. It took a matter of minutes to reach the ground, and a minute more to reach her prey. She knelt and removed the small dart that had embedded itself into the young woman’s flesh. It was something one of the Talon scientists had concocted. Small and sturdy enough to fire from Widowmaker’s rifle without being destroyed, yet malleable enough to pierce skin and stick rather than burrowing into the body. It had been loaded with some manner of powerful tranquilizer that should keep the target down for thirty minutes. Should was not something that had ever served the sniper in her career. She worked with knowns, with certainties. Taking something on faith was a good way to end up dead, so she knew better than to waste any time that may or may not be easily had.
Still, there was time to be forced. A car would be arriving to take the pair of them to the safe house, another grunt just doing his or her job for the evening. Until then though, all there was to do was the waiting. Widowmaker stood there, next to the unconscious woman and wondered what exactly this seemingly mundane girl could offer them. She supposedly had information on the agents of Overwatch, both known and unknown, though it was possible that Talon’s agents had made a mistake. It didn’t matter, the truth would come out soon enough. No one would be coming to rescue her. Widowmaker had all the time in the world to pull answers out of her.
************
The car came into view after six minutes, a simple black machine that was neither too new or too old. Completely uninteresting and unlikely to arouse and sort of suspicion. It stopped along the curb, engine rumbling quietly. No words were exchanged as the agent in the driver’s seat stepped out. She was a young woman, dressed casually. To see her on the street, you wouldn’t pick her out as anything but another young person making their way to or from work, trying to keep themselves afloat.
There was rope and duct tape, the agent handed some off and she and Widowmaker worked quickly. In a matter of moments it was done, the young miss Calumn lay unconscious still, now with her ankles tied tightly together, wrists crossed behind her back and lashed together as well, silver tape sealing her lips tightly. The agent grabbed Kelly’s bag and made sure nothing else had been dropped before throwing it in the front seat while Widowmaker lifted the unconscious woman in her arms. The trunk of the vehicle opened and then closed, Kelly secured inside.
Though the exterior of the car was completely uninteresting, it’s interiors were heavily modified. The front and back seats were plush and comfortable, doors were bulletproof and a radio was easily accessed for contacting various agents, headquarters, other vehicles. The trunk meanwhile was heavily padded so as not to injure anyone or anything stored within, as well as heavily soundproofed. It was, in every way, a thoroughly put together and thought out machine. Widowmaker took her place in the back, rifle across her knees now. The door closed, and the car rumbled into action, heading down the quiet streets, tracing out of the main city and towards the far fringe where the Talon safe house resided.
***************
Everything was fuzzy, unfocused and uncertain. She remembered a sudden pain, remembered collapsing and then… black. Nothing. But something must have changed, because she was moving. Someone must have seen and helped her into their car, or maybe an ambulance had been called? She wasn’t sure, and her senses were slow in return. A groan passed her lips… or tried. That was her first realization that something was wrong. She her mind began to work again, Kelly realized that she wasn’t safely tucked into an ambulance, or even the backseat of someone’s vehicle. Her wrists and ankles were bound tightly with rough ropes and a strip of duct tape was firmly over her mouth, making any sort of noise or movement near impossible.
There was a brief moment of almost utter calm, a few meager seconds where her brain refused to process this, refused to accept the reality of it. She was still passed out. It had been some freak fainting spell and she was still lying somewhere, dreaming terrible dreams. But that moment was a quickly fleeting one as the vehicle she was trapped in hit a bump and jostled her against the soft padding of the trunk interior, shocking her system into realization, into terrified reality.
This was real. This was all too real and it was completely unknown. Where was she, who had done this, and why? What was the point? Panic began to set in as Kelly began to struggle, looking for any means of escape, any slack in the ropes or something to give way in the padding and metal of the trunk as she kicked and squirmed. But nothing gave, nothing granted her the freedom she so desperately and frantically sought. She had nothing here, no idea where she was or where she was going, no sense of how much time had passed or would pass during the travel. She was lost, utterly and completely. Alone and kidnapped and without even a slim idea of who had done the kidnapping.
How much time had gone by since she had woken? She couldn’t be sure. There had been panic and struggle and then exhaustion from the struggle. And then just lying there, feeling the car as it rolled and rumbled along whatever roads and paths it was taking to who knew where. And then… silence. Nothing. The car stopped, the engine died. She couldn’t hear anything, and for several long seconds, Kelly briefly wondered if whoever had grabbed her had simply forgotten her back there, or if they intended to leave her overnight before there was more driving. Then a click, a thunk, and the utter blackness opened up, moonlight pouring in and making her blink, blinded for a second by the dim but sudden influx of light.
******************
When they stopped at the safehouse, Widowmaker eyed it curiously. It was far from the center of town, on those fringes where people began to have proper yards and space between neighbors. It was the perfect sort of place for this, people coming and going without being seen or spied upon, no one any the wiser as to who was supposed to live here or when. Still, it seemed somewhat… quaint. As if it were ill suited to its purpose. It screamed for a simple lifestyle, a family and children, things it would likely never see. Not in the usual sense at least.
She slid out of the vehicle and walked around to the trunk, watching, waiting. There was little chance that the woman had slipped her bonds, but Widowmaker was prepared for that small possibility. It could be the difference between life and death. The agent in the driver’s seat hit the appropriate button and with a dull think, the trunk released its latch and Widowmaker opened it. And there she lay, still bound and gagged, blinking in the dull moonlight.
“Ah, je te vois,” Widowmaker said softly as her hands went forward. She quickly grabbed hold of her prey, keeping a tight grip as she hauled the young woman out of the trunk and onto her feet. Widowmaker shut the trunk then and tapped on it. The engine rumbled and the car vanished, leaving them alone. Widowmaker said nothing as she began to half push and half drag the frightened woman towards the house. It was a task, but her strength more than out matched that of her target, and soon enough they were inside.
As with the vehicle, the house was a completely uninteresting exterior, hiding a modern and sleek interior. It had the normal furnishings, a kitchen and bathrooms, bedrooms, living areas. It was a place for agents to lay low and rest before and after missions, a home away from home as it were. But everything was modern and high tech. Televisions, security systems, radios and computers to keep everyone in touch with everyone else. And beyond those standard rooms of basic comfort lay the work spaces. A workshop for the mechanical needs, laboratory for the chemical and scientific. Interrogation rooms, some more prone to producing blood than others.
Widowmaker paid no heed to the rooms of comfort, merely dragging her captive past them as Kelly tried to fight, desperate for and escape she couldn’t grasp. When she realized she wasn’t getting out of the woman’s powerful grip she tried to figure out where they were, tried to locate herself on a mental map. But it was too late. They were inside, and there was no sight through any window that provided anything but trees or open space, nothing that would let anyone outside see into the private deeds, and nothing that someone inside could use to aid in an escape attempt.
Soon enough Kelly found herself shoved bodily into a simple but sturdy wooden chair. She grunted as she fought to sit up and looked around the room, eyes widening as she did so. It was a well lit space with plain walls and a bare floor. Widowmaker set her rifle against the wall beside the door as Kelly’s eyes roamed the area. There were cupboards and cabinets hiding who knew what sinister items. Tables along one wall laid out a variety of tools. Pliers, hammers, saws. Brutal and violent implements that made the blood run cold.
“We won’t be using those,” Widowmaker said as she saw where her captive’s eyes had lain. “I prefer simple, subtler things,” she said softly, as if telling a joke that everyone already knew the punchline for. The sniper turned and walked towards one of the tall cabinets and opened it, stepping aside to reveal its contents. Inside was a bevy of tools that seemed both intriguing and horrifying. Various gags of metal, rubber and leather, straps, machines to produce electric shocks, clamps of a variety of shapes and sizes and on and on it went. Whips and floggers, ropes and chains and cloth and on to ever more devious items.
“These are my tools,” Widowmaker said simply, fanning a hand in a displaying gesture. “These are my trade for the information I want.” She spoke softly as she reached inside and withdrew a simple, sharp knife, the blade glinting in the light, along with leather cuffs. Kelly squirmed in her chair, shaking her head, eyes wide as she tried to scream, only for the duct tape to keep her muffled and make the sounds worthless. Widowmaker approached with a slow pace and shook her head.
“Do not worry, I have no intention of harming you. Not with this at least,” she said with a flick of the knife. Kelly didn’t listen, couldn’t listen. Terror had her as she struggled and squirmed. Widowmaker ignored it, simply grabbing hold of her where needed and holding firm. In a moment the knife slid forward and with a swift slicing stroke, the ropes around Kelly’s wrists came free. Her struggles slowed for a moment as reality once again asserted itself and she realized she wasn’t about to die. The relief was quickly pushed aside as she realized her chance to fight back was gone, her left wrist already secured to the arm of the chair by a heavy leather cuff, and the right one quickly joining it.
Widowmaker repeated the process with her ankles, slicing them free of their bonds before securing them to the legs of the chair with the heavy cuffs. Finally she reached out and took hold of one edge of the tape and tore forward, ripping it free, eliciting a howl of pain from her unfortunate captive and tears of discomfort. “You may scream if it makes you feel better. No one will hear,” Widowmaker said, as if it were something of an afterthought. She stood then, knife still in hand, looking her captive up and down briefly. “You have information that Talon wants. You will tell me everything you know of Overwatch and its members. If you do so now, you will make things much easier for all of us.”
Kelly blinked away the tears that had risen in her eyes, shaking her head. She couldn’t have heard right. Overwatch? Talon? She didn’t know what was going on, but clearly there had been some kind of mistake. “I… listen… please, listen. I don’t know what you’re talking about, seriously, if I did I’d tell you whatever you want, but I’ve never even heard of Overwatch before!” she cried out, trembling. Surely this would be the end of it, surely she could just go home and forget this whole horrible evening?
“Please, I don’t know what you think I know, but I don’t know a thing. Just let me go, please let me go, I just want to go home, I’ll forget you, I’ll forget everything I won’t tell anyone,” she pleaded quickly, silently praying that this would all end, that nothing bad would happen. Widowmaker merely sighed, rolling her eyes and shaking her head.
“Well I would commend bravery, if it were not so stupid. We do this the difficult way then,” she say as Kelly’s heart fell.
“No, no please I swear, I swear I don’t know anything, I swear you have to believe me, believe me I don’t know anything, I don’t know anything!” she shouted, struggling desperately against the bonds holding her to the chair. As she struggled and shouted, Widow returned to the cabinet, and when she came back she brought with her a metal bit wrapped in soft leather, leather straps on either end. Kelly soon found the bit in her mouth, gagging her once more as it was secured tightly in place.
“We’ll take that out when I think you have something worthwhile to say,” Widowmaker said softly. Kelly grunted and shouted against the gag but it all came out as garbled sounds, no words to be deciphered. Widowmaker said nothing, she ignored the noises and set about her work. She knelt and in a few swift movements, her captive’s boots were off and tossed aside, followed by her socks. Widowmaker stood then and turned to the girl’s jacket. The knife made short work of it, slicing it to pieces that were tossed aside. The same was done to her shirt, then her pants, until nothing was left but a nearly naked girl in purple underwear, strapped to the chair.
And then she stopped, a brief pause as Kelly shook and wondered just how far this would go. Widowmaker moved across the room, behind her captive. There was the noise of a cabinet opening, then the sounds of a computer being brought to life. “One of our agents is taking your things to a nearby base. They’ll have your phone cracked shortly, your entire online life combed through for anything we need,” Widowmaker said from outside Kelly’s line of view.
“But that will be rather paltry compared to this. You cannot see them, but there are cameras in this room. Several. They will be capturing your interrogation, to be dissected later if we need to learn more. But most importantly, they will be capturing you, here and helpless. Think of it as insurance. Should anyone suddenly discover what has happened here tonight after you leave… well the world would certainly enjoy this show.” More tears in her eyes as Kelly shivered, a chill running along her spine at the implication of that, the humiliating idea implied in such a threat.
The cabinet doors closed, the sound of the computer humming dulled behind them as Widowmaker walked slowly towards the chair and her captive. She bent low, lips practically brushing Kelly’s ear, making the girl flinched nervously. “Now our true fun can begin,” she whispered softly, and soon afterwards Kelly felt lips upon her skin, just between shoulder and neck. But it was not the warm kiss of a lover, rather the cold kiss of a corpse, of the world’s deadliest assassin, and it made Kelly shiver. And then she screamed against her gag as Widowmaker’s teeth bit into her, just enough to be felt, to hurt. In the same instant the knife slid between her breasts, cold steel against her flesh, and slid forward, slicing Kelly’s bra in two, bringing her breasts into the open air.
Widowmaker pulled back from the bite and a few cuts later and the bra lay in pieces on the floor as Kelly shivered, face flushed with embarrassment. She had little time to consider this though as Widowmaker suddenly pushed on her back, pushing her slightly forward, away from the back of the chair. That same hand slunk downwards, cold fingers tingling along Kelly’s spine before finding the hem of her panties. Kelly whimpered and then without warning Widowmaker’s hand pulled up, and the underwear went with it. Kelly screamed into her gag, whimpering and squirming as the fabric pulled tight and harshly into her backside. The knife slashed once, then twice, and the panties came free and joined the heap of ruined clothing on the floor as Kelly whimpered in pain and shame.
Widowmaker chuckled softly as she stood and walked back to the cabinet. “Perfect,” she said softly, slipping the knife back into its place along the cabinet door. There was a few moments of rifling, items moved this way and that as Widowmaker sought the correct items and Kelly whimpered and squirmed, looking around desperately. It was true, she couldn’t see the cameras, had no idea where they were, if they were even real… though something told her they were. They were there, watching her, capturing every shameful moment, and that this woman and whoever she worked with would not hesitate to follow their threats.
She turned back to eye her captor, who by now was approaching her again. In hand Widowmaker carried a pair of the clamps, a chain connecting the two bits of metal with rubber tips, as well as a simple flogger, duct tape, and a number of boxes with wires running out of them to various devices and leads all jumbled together, difficult to discern one part from the other in her current state.
“I find,” Widowmaker said as she set the items down on a small, metallic table on wheels and rolled it close. “That the body and mind are closely linked. Everyone knows this of course. But what many fail to understand is that you don’t need to go one way with this. We do not need to break the body, only to stimulate, in order to break the mind. You will give in, you will tell me what I want to know. It is only a matter of time.”
Once again Kelly shouted into her gag, pleaded, swore she knew nothing, but Widowmaker was uninterested. It was as if she heard nothing. She worked effortlessly, with a practiced grace. First came the clamps, one to each of Kelly’s nipples, biting down with a painful pressure. The rubber tips kept the metal from biting into skin, but did nothing to relieve the general pain. The chain was cool against her skin, a constant reminder of its presence and the idea that it could be pulled, yanked, held or weighted, all things that would add to her humiliation and suffering.
Next came a variety of suction cups attached to various wires, all running back to a single, black box. They were attached to her thighs, her abs, one of the outer side of each breast, before the device itself was set aside. And then the other devices came, and Kelly’s eyes widened and her face flushed darker than ever before as she realized what they were. Each device was small and plastic, shaped much like an egg or oval, with a wire leading to a simple remote.
Widowmaker saw the look of shock, of shame and fear, and a smile graced her lips. “I find the mind is so much easier to break, much more malleable, with the application of pleasure and pain at once. It brings such confusion, no?” she whispered softly. She took one of the eggs then and a gloved hand gently inserted it into Kelly’s pussy, the remote quickly taped to the inside of her thigh. Another of the remotes was taped opposite, on her other thigh, and a bit of duct tape soon secured the egg itself to the lips of her sex.
Widow stood, looking over her work as if admiring it for a moment. Then a hand reached out and one by one began turning each item on. The vibrators came to life, buzzing and humming away, immediately stimulating pleasure directly to Kelly’s core, making her gasp and moan, which made her face burn all the more harshly. Then the little black box came next, and the shamed moans were joined by gasps and squeals as short, small electric shocks were delivered at the sight of each suction cup, making her squirm and jump every few seconds.
Finally Widowmaker picked up the flogger, swaying it back and forth in the air. “This will continue,” she said softly. “Until I feel you are ready to speak.” Kelly’s eyes were wide, amidst the variety of feelings and sensations she felt it was hard to find room for fear, but it wormed it’s way in there nonetheless. And yet she could do nothing and she knew it. Widowmaker brought the flogger up, and then brought it down, the various tails smacking down against Kelly’s exposed breasts with a sharp crack, making the girl shout and yelp, leaving behind reddening lines upon her pale flesh.
Then she repeated it, the flogger rising, then falling, a sharp crack and a squeal of pain as it made Kelly’s breasts jump and sting.And again, and again, and again. All the while the vibrators buzzed and hummed away, forcing pleasure upon her constantly, while the pain of the flogger mingled with the seemingly random electric shocks. All of it together mingled into a confusing cocktail of sexual arousal, humiliating shame and stinging, shocking pain.
Through it all, Widowmaker seemed to pay no heed to the cries of pain and pleasure, the grinding and shaking and squirming of her captive. She was wholly focused on her task, on striking her prisoner’s breasts with the flogger, of driving her mad with pleasure and pain combined. If she could be said to enjoy anything, perhaps it was this. There was a light there in her eyes, a glint of passion perhaps, an enjoyment of this particular piece of her work.
Kelly for her part couldn’t hold out. She shook and shivered, squirmed and shouted, cried out and moaned, and all the while the various toys and implements pushed her ever further, higher and higher towards a peak she didn’t want to reach. But it was inevitable. Time had long ago lost meaning. What could have been hours or merely minutes passed. The only time keeping was the number of strikes, each one lashing against her sore and stinging breasts. She lost count though, quite early on, and there was no way to know which strike finally pushed her over the edge, screaming and writhing as a climax took her.
Widowmaker paused for a moment, breathing slowly as she watched Kelly squirming upon the chair, body spasming as she climaxed, juices running from her pussy, over her thighs and the seat of the chair. “My, that is quite the show. Perhaps you are enjoying this?” Widowmaker asked, mockingly, tauntingly. It may have been true, or it may have been a lie, but it didn’t matter. Widowmaker knew that no one could withstand this long. Pleasure and pain mixing, mounting, orgasm after orgasm. She would break, sooner or later.
******************
Widowmaker returned, the door shutting behind her softly. She had left for nearly half an hour, eating, drinking, leaving her captive to be stimulated beyond relief. When she returned she found quite the puddle of excitement beneath her prisoner, the young woman slumped in the chair, barely twitching now, completely spent. A shiver went through Widowmaker. She would never say she felt emotion anymore. Her heart was dead long ago. But in these tasks, these interrogations, she found something, some spark. And with this one in particular, she had found it most powerfully. She almost didn’t want it to end.
Widowmaker moved forward and one by one the machines turned off. Kelly was panting, her whole body exhausted from the ordeal. Every ounce of pleasure had been wrung out of her, mixed with pain that had sent her whole body spasming with shameful delight. She had always been a touch of the masochist but this… this was extreme. It was humiliating and shocking and awful and terrifying… and perhaps exciting, under better circumstances. She felt the leather straps holding the gag come loose, and that was soon removed, thin lines of drool breaking from it, snapping against her lips and chin.
Widowmaker titled the girl’s head up and put a bottle of water to her lips, making her drink, knowing she would be dehydrated even if she didn’t know it. After a few sips she pulled back, Kelly whimpering softly, her thirst only now making itself known, having been awoken before it was sated. “You will get more. When you talk.” Kelly was still breathing hard, still shaking and shivering. She looked away, feeling as if she would cry though no tears came.
“I… I don’t… know…. Much,” she said softly, shame burning in her. “But I’ll tell you everything.” Widowmaker smiled softly and nodded, once again allowing her captive to drink a few sips. “I knew you would,” she whispered softly.
*******************
Widowmaker sighed as she stood before a large computer screen, a dark skinned, rather vibrantly colored woman frowning at her from the other side. “That’s it? She held on to that? Ay caramba, I thought this was something good, something interesting.”
“Believe me Sombra, zat is all there is,” Widowmaker replied with a shrug, as if she didn’t care either way. “She knew where a few agents lived, all long vacated, and she knows Oxton’s name. Nothing that’s exactly a secret.” Sombra sighed and shook her head.
“Yeah, nothing online either. Just the usual boring stuff, social media, pictures, art, stories. Not a thing we need. Whatever. I’ll have to check on my division. Clearly someone gathering intel isn’t doing it right,” Sombra grumbled unhappily.
“Perhaps you should try one of these operations. A night in the field, an interrogation. It might do your mind some good,” Widowmaker offered.
“Yeah, maybe. Sombra out.” With that the screen went black and Widowmaker sighed as she cut the power on her end. It had been an… interesting night. Widowmaker smiled slightly. She hoped to repeat it sometime.
***************
After she’d spilled everything, Kelly had been released, easy as that. The toys of torment were removed and put away, or set aside for cleaning she assumed. The strange woman had been… not kind really, more distant, cold. But not hostile. She’d shown Kelly to a pristine and modern bathroom and said she would have replacement clothes by the time she was done cleaning up.
It felt… wrong. She should be running, fleeing… but for what? The torture was over… if it could be called torture. There was no way she was risking going to the cops. This seemed like the people who killed first and asked questions later for that sort of thing. No, the best thing was to stay calm and just walk out as soon as she was able. So a shower it had been, gingerly cleaning her sore body. And true to her words, clothes were waiting when she stepped out, almost identical to that which had been destroyed… and one other thing.
Kelly froze as she looked at the item, at the note that came with it. She blinked in confusion, fear, nervousness, trepidation… curiosity, intrigue. She dressed quickly and slipped out of the bathroom. The whole place was quiet. Lights off, no one to be seen. Without a second though she ran, out the door, down the street, all the way to her apartment and inside, panting hard as she slammed the door.
Kelly slowly made her way into the kitchen and turned the lights on. And there on the table was a her bag, phone right beside it, both looking pristine and unharmed, nothing missing. She slumped into a chair and glanced into her hands. In one was a simple, black collar like you’d put on a dog. The difference was that this was lined on the inside with a soft, supple velvet to make it more like a high end choker than a collar. It clasped simply in the back, and at the front, embedded in the leather was a silver spider, an hourglass on its abdomen in red. In the other hand was the note, which now read more true than ever.
“I have already left and you will not be harmed. No one need learn of tonight’s events unless you wish them to see tonight’s events. Your things, your phone, your bag, all of it will be waiting when you return home. You may stay here the night or not, it does not matter. Wear this, remember me. I will know if you try to lose it, I will know if you try to destroy it. Keep it, wear it, know that I am never too far. And that I will come back, on my own time.Personne n’echappe a mon regard.”
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/6p812f/captured_interrogated_excited_ff_bdsm_sadism