5

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.