Dare

The morning sun springs up in the sky, I sit on the sofa in the living room staring at a door that catches my view. I had given her just one rule, never step out of the room without my permission. I have no idea why I want her to defy me, why I want her to open that door and step out. Ofcourse I would feel good about punishing her, a little gore play doesn't hurt.

The sound of the door bell catches my attention and I make my way to the door. An unexpected guess stands there with a smile on his face.

"Dare, it's been a while" Mark says. He is wearing a blue Jean on a black leather jacket clad with his combat boot. I spot the BMW right behind him and he turns his eyes to it.

"Sweet ride don't you think" he asks and I give him a slight nod.

Mark and I have been buddies, we work for the same organization until I left and decided to start afresh. When he first joined us, he was a naive little boy who needed a family, I thought him everything he knew, made sure he could stay on his back on his own. He was my right hand man, I'm certain that when I left he took over my position.

"Why are you here?" I ask leaning on the door, the urge to let him in was the last thing I thought of. I didn't want him in my home, especially now that I have company. Mark thinks like me, women are nothing but prey in our eyes, a means to do whatever we want with them. He didn't know that before until I showed him what it was like to dominate a woman, to have her crawl to him, to beg for his mercy and his touch.

"Aren't you going to let me in?" He answers and brushes past me into the house.

Despite working for the same organization, we wanted different things and that was what grew us apart, we were only alike when it came to work. I had his back and he did mine, if we didn't work together then we would be dead by now and we both knew that.

His combat boots create shoe prints on my ombré tiles, I frown at it but his unregistered access into my home is what boils me up.

"This is cool" he crosses his leg and his hands tap on the side table beside him. I fold my arms together watching him, he has something to say and he is taking his damn time to tell me. He knows i am fucking impatient, he is trying to tick me off.

I lean on the brown walls, my left leg raised up, my hands on my chin. He had grown a few inches and the Mustache underneath his nose reminding me of how mature he has grown.

He moved forward, the sofa makes a crumbling sound, he has his elbows on his knees and then he looks up to me.

"Something happened Dare"

I blink my eyes showing forth an expressionless face, anything could happen, he has to be more specific if he wants a reaction from me.

"The Boss, Mr Klaus is dead" he informs me. I fucking know that, I was the one who killed him but I would never tell him that.

"What happened to him?" I ask instead, allowing the damn conversation to continue. Mark wasn't smart enough to suspect me and even if he did, he had no evidence. I made sure there was no witness or clue left at the crime scene, except her but she won't be a problem right now.

He let out a sigh, I don't know if he was affected by Boss death or he was just overreacting. We have never met him, the closest we got was hearing his voice as he sent us on assignment that claim our lives. None of us has seen his face, he made it that way so that he could never be traced. It took me eleven years to find out who he was, only his secretary could see him and talk to him. He was a retired general and there was nothing in this world that you would do to him to make him spill, I tried.

"He was murdered along with his family, the news is only shared amongst us, not many people know it" 

He looks away from me, fixing his focus on his shoes, the room becomes silent.

He pulls back up to me and I match his gaze, was he expecting me to say something. We had no relation to the man who except business.

My eyes catch sight of the blood residues in his finger, he was coming from there and came over to tell me the news.

"I am going to find the motherfucker who did this to him and I am going to make him pay" he threatened.

"If you need anything don't hesitate" I replied, it was the least I could do. Not like I cared about the man's death, it was his fault for crossing me. I had dreamed of taking his life for a long time and just when he messed up, I seized the fucking opportunity and did what I had to do.

I don't care if the gang comes after me, I will kill them one by one until I am the only one standing.

He bolts to his feet, "Thank you" he says and makes his way to the door.

"Mark" I call before he could step out.

He sharply turns towards me, 

"Congratulations" 

"For what"

"You are now the head of the gang" I inform him and he nods. 

With my absence, he was now in charge of the brothers. He would be the one receiving orders from the higher ups, he had several men to feed and train. I couldn't be more proud of the boy I had raised.

"Thanks" 

I turn away moving towards the couch, I hear the door shut but the footsteps drew much closer until his eyes were now on me. A considerable amount of distance between his legs, his brows breached downwards and forward and those brown eyes darkened.

"How is it that you left us not long ago and three days later, the boss is dead?" He asks.

I stand there quiet, if he has a suspicion then he should fucking work on it. 

"Why did you leave?" he asked, his voice calm but sharp enough to cut through the tension.

"I was sick of it," I said, my tone flat. It wasn't a lie. It had been a game to me, one I played until I got what I wanted. By then, there was no point in staying.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't suspect you."

I shoved my hands into my pockets and rose to my feet, walking closer until I was inches from his face. His words were a challenge, and he knew it. Daring me to act. Testing me.

But I wasn't afraid of him. If I wanted to, I could smash his head against the wall and bury his body right next to his father's grave. The thought almost made me smile. I'd made him who he was, built him from nothing, and now he had the nerve to stand there and question me like I was some kind of commoner. My fists clenched at my sides, the urge to hit him burning through me.

But not yet. Not now. If I killed him here, it would be too soon. Taking him out meant taking down two leaders in a row, and the organization wouldn't rest until they hunted me down for it.

"I don't need to," I said finally, my voice calm as I forced myself to relax.

He nodded slowly, his curls bouncing slightly before settling back into place. Then he circled me, taking his time as he studied my face, searching for any crack, any hint of guilt or fear. I gave him nothing. My glare was steady, my expression cold.

"Fine. I believe you," he said at last, stepping back and raising his hands in mock surrender. His fingers brushed his neck, a casual gesture that somehow made my skin crawl, like he was toying with me.

"Can I have a glass of water?" The request was polite, almost casual, but I felt the weight of it. Felt the resistance in my chest. I didn't want to do it. Didn't want to serve him anything.

"Are you going to give a brother some water?" he pressed, his voice light but insistent.

I almost told him to get it himself. Almost. But the thought of him wandering through my house, snooping where he didn't belong, stopped me. Instead, I turned on my heel and went to the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it from the faucet.

When I came back, he was gone. The door was still shut making me wonder why I didn't hear him leave. I shoot my eyes to the door upstairs to find it slightly open.

Shit!

I raced up the stairs, my heart hammering in my chest as I shoved the door wide open.

There he was.

He had her backed into a corner, her body curled up like a wounded animal, trembling, barely able to look at him. His filthy hand gripped her waist, holding her in place, while his other arm leaned against the doorframe, blocking any chance of escape.

My vision turned red.

I didn't think, didn't pause-I was on him before his disgusting tongue could touch her neck. I slammed him into the wall, the force rattling the entire room. He crashed onto the table, scattering papers and glass to the floor, but somehow, he got back to his feet, his eyes blazing with a twisted kind of satisfaction.

My blood boiled. How dare he touch her without my permission?

"Is this it?" he taunted, his voice venomous. "Is this the reason you left? So you could live out your wild fantasies?"

"Shut the fuck up," I growled, my fists clenching at my sides.

"Or maybe," he continued, undeterred, "you were hoping for a love story, huh? Settle down with her, have kids running around the house. I can't see that for you-but damn, she is gorgeous."

"I said shut it."

He sneered, circling me like a predator toying with its prey. "You're forgetting something, Dare. Men like you and me? We don't get to settle down. We don't get love. No matter how much you try, it's not for you."

"Mark!" My voice was a warning, but he ignored it.

He leaned closer, each tone dripping with malice. "She'll never love you. Does she even know who you really are? The things you've done-not just the assignments, but the women? If she knew, she wouldn't stay here for another second." He paused, a twisted smile spreading across his face as realization dawned.

"You kidnapped her," he said, his voice almost gleeful. "That's it, isn't it? You took her."

One more word. One more fucking word, and I'd slit his throat.

"She cannot fucking handle you Dare, the things I have seen you do, she can't fucking handle it. You have dark, twisted fantasy, she looks like you could break if you fucking touch her" 

The truth hurts just as they say. She was a fragile little thing, her skin was soft as silk, her eyes blue as the ocean, her long black hair that stopped at her waist. But besides being fragile and beautiful, she gave herself to me. She chosed to belong to me, it wasn't entirely my decision, she made the decision too.

Staring at her, she is still pinned to the wall where he left her, I wonder the things he had told her in the few minutes I was behind, her eyes are weary and she looks at me with fear. It is much different from the first time we met, when I gaze into those delicate blue eyes and made the biggest decision of my life. Sparing a witness.

Now, she looked at me like I was just another monster.

Mark pushed himself off the wall, brushing broken glass from his shoulders. He wasn't done. His smirk curved into something smug, calculating. He turned back to her,closing up the space between them.

"If you come with me, darling," he began, his tone slick, "I promise I won't make your life miserable. Unlike him. There's nothing he can offer you but pain and misery." He stretched his hand toward her, his audacity dripping from every syllable.

That was it.

I grabbed him by the collar, yanking him away from her before he could take another step. My grip tightened as my defenses kicked in, and I dragged him toward the window. Without hesitation, I smashed his head through the glass.

She screamed behind me, her hands flying to her mouth, but I didn't turn around. My focus was on him-the bastard bleeding from his head, his arms dangling uselessly out the shattered window. 

His dazed, blood-smeared face twisted into a weak smile, his eyes glinting with defiance.

"Say one more fucking word," I growled, my voice low and lethal, "and I'll throw you out this window."

Silence. For once, he understood the gravity of my warning.

I yanked him back inside and threw him to the floor. He groaned, clutching at his head, his once-arrogant demeanor crumbling. I loomed over him, rage still pulsing through my veins.

"Leave," I said, my voice cold and final. "And never fucking return."

He looked up at me, his expression shifting-half a promise, half a threat. It wasn't over, not for him. But I didn't care. If I saw him again, if he tried to pull this shit one more time, I wouldn't stop. Next time, I'd kill him.

Mark stumbled to his feet and staggered toward the door, leaving a trail of blood behind him.

I turned back to her. She still stood against the wall, staring at me like I was the same monster she'd feared minutes ago. Maybe she was right. Maybe I was.

I sank into the cushions of the couch, my arms dangling loosely from the armrests as I exhaled, the weight of the moment pressing down on me. The room was quiet, save for my own breathing and the faint creak of the house settling. I forced myself to let go of Mark's words, to push his poisonous voice out of my mind.

Then I heard her footsteps.

They echoed softly down the stairs, each step slow. She wasn't rushing. She wasn't fleeing. But she wasn't calm either. I could feel her hesitation, the weight of her thoughts as she moved toward me. For a moment, her steps stopped entirely, lingering in one spot as if she were deciding whether to face me or retreat.

My patience wore thin.

"Come to me," I ordered.

The pause lingered before she obeyed, finally stepping into the living room. She stopped a few feet in front of me, her posture stiff, her head tilted down. She wouldn't meet my eyes. But I searched for them anyway, wanting to see those striking blue eyes, to read whatever she wasn't saying.

I rose to my feet.

She flinched.

The movement was subtle, but I saw it. Felt it. She was scared, and I couldn't entirely blame her. I knew what Mark had said, the seed of doubt he'd planted in her. But it wasn't just him. She had seen me. Seen what I could do.

"What is it?" I asked, my tone controlled, neither harsh nor gentle. Her silence stretched, but I caught the faint sheen of sweat glistening on her forehead.

Slowly, she lifted her gaze, those brilliant blue eyes meeting mine for just a heartbeat before they dimmed again, her lashes lowering as she looked away.

"What are you going to do to me?" she asked softly, her voice trembling, her head bowing once more.

If only she knew.

If only she knew the things I wanted to do to her, the thoughts that burned through my mind whenever I looked at her. She'd run. Scream. Never look back.

I bit my lip, stepping toward her. She moved back, instinctively, but I didn't stop. I closed the distance, step by step, until her back pressed against the wall. The sight of her like this, trapped between me and the unyielding surface, reminded me too much of earlier. Of Mark.

But this was different.

I leaned down, my head resting lightly against her shoulder, my breath brushing against her neck. Her breathing quickened, shallow and uneven. She was terrified, and I couldn't blame her.

My lips hovered near her ear, so close I could feel the warmth radiating from her skin.

"Why?

Are you scared now that he said something to you?" 

A subtle flinch comes from her, I guess she doesn't like me being close to her or Atleast that was what I thought until I felt a pull at the hem of my shirt. The corners of my lips lit up.

I shift backwards and raise her chin to stare at me,

"Are you forgetting that you gave yourself to me, I can do whatever I want with you. Isn't that right?" I question and she nods her head in response.

Such a sweet little girl.

"Don't worry, I will make you feel good. I will make you crave for my touch on your body so much that you will despise every other, you will beg me to touch you in places that you couldn't, you will crawl to me and do whatever I say like my little bitch.

You are mine now" I whispers, my gaze darken and I mean every fucking word I said.

Her knees fail her and she drops to the ground, she is breathless. Damn do I fucking like the sight of her boobs bouncing upwards in a fast motion. I want to feel them in my palm but I restrict myself. I will have her, she was already mine but I won't touch her yet.

Sky

The room was suffocating, the kind of darkness that felt alive, wrapping around me like a second skin. I was naked, trembling, my body pressed against the cold wall. My hands and feet were chained, the iron biting into my skin, reducing me to something less than human. I whimpered, tears streaking my face as the reality of my situation sank deeper. I had no idea where I was, how I got here, or how to escape.

Then, I heard it.

Footsteps.

The sound of leather boots pressing against the floor echoed through the void. My heart raced, panic overtaking me as I scanned the blackness, trying to see where they were coming from. The footsteps grew louder, closer, each one sending a shiver through my body.

The creak of a door opening caught my attention. A sliver of light appeared, faint and distant, casting the outline of a figure. My breath caught as the door swung wider, flooding the room with just enough light for me to make out the man stepping inside.

He was massive, towering, his presence swallowing the space like a shadow come to life. Six feet tall, maybe more. He wore only leather pants and boots, his upper body bare, every inch of it carved like a statue. His muscles rippled with each movement, and his skin gleamed, as if painted with oil and glitter.

His eyes were the first thing that truly terrified me. At first, they burned red, like embers, but they seemed to shift, glowing with an intensity that locked me in place.

I tried to shrink away, pressing myself against the wall, but the chains held me fast. I raised my head again, and he was suddenly there, right in front of me.

I flinched, gasping as he crouched down, his presence overwhelming. He grabbed the chains that bound me and yanked them with a force that made my body jerk violently forward. Pain exploded through me, dragging a cry from my throat as he pulled me across the floor. The cold stone scraped against my skin, and I struggled, my limbs weak and useless against him.

We stopped in the center of the room.

A bright light flickered on above us, illuminating him fully now. My gaze flickered upward, and I saw it: the mask.

A panda mask.

It covered the upper half of his face, leaving only his sharp jawline, green eyes-no longer burning red-and wild, dark curls exposed. Those eyes glinted under the light, full of something I couldn't name. Something dangerous.

I thrashed, desperate to get away, but he pinned me to the ground with a strength that left me helpless. His powerful legs bracketed my body, caging me in, while his right hand pressed down on my waist, trapping me exactly where he wanted.

I tried to scream but my voice is gone and all I could make out was muffled sounds that I could hardly here.

He wrapped the chains around his neck and ran his hand round my body, he groped my breast from underneath, my nipples hard at this point. Why does my body have to act like I am a fucking slut?. He squeezes on them and it hurts. He follows down my back until they stop at my asshole. 

"Don't you dare?" I warned but nothing was coming out. I could feel a finger slip into it, my body twitched from the action but he pressed forth on my waist harder with his order hands. My breasts are slammed hard to the ground turning them flat, my chin hurt from being pushed and dragged around.

Two fingers in and I think he is going to tear it, he pushes it further in and then he stops and pulls them out. My eyes closed waiting for the inevitable, I knew he was going to shove his cock into it since that was the only place of interest to him. His hands trail further until they are on my fucking clit, he slaps it hard and I squint. I crossed my legs immediately a finger waltzed into my cunt, he drags the chain and and turn me over. My legs are wrapped around his waist, spread further than I could imagine. He is looking directly at me, then he dips his finger into my cunt, this time he puts two fingers. My walls are tampered with and they bring forth a sweet sensation, I thrust my hips further to get a better feel and he understands as he pushes his fingers further in. A moan escapes my lips but Ofcourse it was inaudible, he slid them in and out as he worked my hips like I was riding a horse.

A knock came on the door and my eyes open in shock, could there be someone else.

"What is it?" I hear him speak for the first time. His hands still working my pussy but faster this time, I leaned my head back, I was this close to coming when he suddenly pulled out. I opened my eyes again to find myself in the room, he is standing by the bed with his three fingers out, he looks at me and it dawned on me that I was completely naked and desperately fucking his hand in my sleep.

He bit his lower lip and walked out the room,

"We have some issues" I could hear someone say over the door, he takes one last look at me, strictly a warning for me to behave myself then he stormed out.

I glance at myself, my legs spread out, I could see bite marks on my thighs and I don't fucking remember that in the dream. Was I really dreaming? Or is what happened in the dream different from the reality?. 

My stomach grumbled, a loud reminder that I hadn't eaten in hours. I needed food, and I needed it now. The sound of the entrance door shutting echoed faintly, signaling the coast was clear.

I quickly grabbed a pair of jeans from the closet and tugged on a black hoodie from the limited set of clothes he'd given me. My eyes darted around the room as I cracked the door open, making sure the hallway was empty. Satisfied, I slipped out and rushed quietly down the stairs, heading straight for the kitchen.

The cabinets in the kitchen were ridiculously high, clearly designed for someone taller. At barely over five feet, I didn't even bother trying to reach them. Instead, I went straight to the fridge and yanked it open.

There it was.

A strawberry cake, sitting in the center shelf like a gift from the heavens.

I didn't think twice. I grabbed it, pulled a knife from the counter, and carved out a generous slice. Then another. And another. I didn't stop until I was shoving the cake into my mouth, barely pausing to chew. The sweet, creamy texture filled my senses, and for the first time in days, I felt something close to satisfaction.

The sound of the door opening snapped me out of it.

I froze, the knife still in my hand, cake smeared on my lips. Without thinking, I ducked under the counter, clutching the plate close to me. My heart pounded as I listened, every footstep drawing nearer.

No. I wasn't giving up this cake. Not after craving it for a week.

He never says anything to me expect remind me of his fucking rule, I had no idea what his name was until yesterday and I am certain he didn't know mine. All he did was touch my body in ways that I have never touched before, I knew I was his fucking sex toy, just like the man from yesterday had said but it was better to do this than get killed by him. I hated him. I hated everything about this situation. But I wasn't about to starve because of it.

When I think about Mr G and his family, I feel regretful but I have to live too.

The sound of the TV came on in the other room, the faint murmur of news or static. The tension eased slightly, and I sank back against the cabinet, finishing the last bite of cake and licking the plate clean. My stomach was full, my body buzzing from the sugar rush.

I wiped my mouth on my sleeve and peeked out. The coast was quiet.

Carefully, I crept out of the kitchen, keeping my head low as I shut the door softly behind me.

Then I felt it.

That heavy, suffocating sensation, like eyes boring into me. The air turned cold, goosebumps prickling my skin. I slowly raised my head, and my heart stopped.

He was standing there.

Not just him, though.

There were others.

A group of unfamiliar faces, all staring at me like I was something out of place, their expressions a mix of shock and amusement.

I stood there, caught, my pulse hammering in my ears. The remnants of cake on my hoodie sleeve suddenly felt like evidence of a crime.

Busted' were they right words to discuss what was happening right now. 

The room spun as I glanced around, my mind racing to piece together what was happening. My eyes landed on him, Dare. Unlike the others, who stared at me in shock, his face was calm, unreadable. But there it was-something flickered in his eyes. Was it fear?

No, it couldn't be. A man like him didn't know fear.

Before I could make sense of it, one of the other men lunged toward me, his hand outstretched. My instinct was to pull back, but I was frozen in place. The distance between us vanished in a heartbeat.

Then it happened.

Bang.

The sound tore through the air, deafening, leaving my ears ringing. Warm liquid splattered across my face and dripped down my cheek. I froze, my hands trembling as I raised them to touch the sticky wetness.

Blood.

It was blood.

I looked up in horror to see the man who'd reached for me crumple to the ground, a jagged hole in his forehead. His eyes were wide, staring at nothing, his body collapsing like a marionette with its strings cut.

My breath hitched. My legs felt weak.

"Ahhhhhh!" I screamed, the sound erupting from deep in my chest, uncontrollable and loud. I stumbled backward, my hands trembling as they wiped at the blood on my face.