Falling Destiny

Episode 51 : " Bound To The Beast"

18+ Mature Content

(Neha's POV)

The scent of stale alcohol and acrid smoke hit me first, a thick, suffocating cloud that clung to the very air of the room. It was a premonition, a physical manifestation of the danger I was stepping into. He stood by the massive, ornate fireplace, silhouetted against the dying embers, a half-empty bottle clutched in one hand. His eyes, usually sharp and calculating, were glazed over, bloodshot, and burning with a dangerous, untamed fire. He looked like a beast ready to strike.

"Come in, Neha," he slurred, his voice rough, barely recognizable. "And lock the door."

My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat of terror. Every instinct screamed at me to run, to bolt and never look back. But my feet, as if no longer my own, carried me across the threshold. The click of the lock echoed in the silence, sealing my fate.

He straightened, dropping the bottle carelessly onto the plush rug. It rolled with a soft thud, a stark contrast to the heavy silence that descended as he began to advance. Each step he took, I instinctively took one back, a desperate dance of evasion. The smell of him, a potent mix of whiskey, smoke, and something distinctly masculine and predatory, filled my nostrils, making my stomach churn.

Then, his hand shot out, not gently, but with a terrifying speed. His fingers clamped around my wrist, iron-strong, and he yanked me forward, stumbling. I crashed against his chest, the impact jarring my teeth. His arms immediately wrapped around me, pulling me into a crushing embrace. It wasn't a hug; it was a cage. I felt my bones groan under the pressure, the air forced from my lungs. I pushed against him, my hands flat on his chest, but he only tightened his grip, a low growl rumbling in his chest. The more I struggled, the more I felt his immense power, his control over my every movement.

He pulled back, his hands moving to cup my face, his thumbs digging into my cheekbones. His eyes, dark and turbulent, bored into mine. "How could you touch another man, Neha?" His voice was a raw whisper, laced with venom. "In front of me? Did his touch feel good? Did you crave him? But you... you pushed me away when I touched you."

His words hit me with the force of a physical blow. He cared? The sheer audacity, the hypocrisy of it, rendered me speechless. Why would he, the man who had dragged me into this nightmare, care about my interactions with another? The shock of his words, the sudden shift in his twisted logic, left me momentarily stunned.

Then, he lowered his head, his mouth descending on mine with a brutal force. It wasn't a kiss; it was an assault. His lips were harsh, demanding, tearing at mine. I tasted blood, metallic and sharp. He bit down, hard, drawing a choked cry from my throat. I thrashed, my fists pounding against his chest, trying to push him away, to break free from the suffocating invasion. But he was relentless, his grip on my wrists tightening, then twisting, forcing my hands behind my back with one powerful hand. My struggles were futile, my resistance a mere tremor against his unyielding strength.

With a sudden, powerful surge, he lifted me, my feet dangling uselessly in the air. He carried me, not gently, but like a sack of unwanted goods, and tossed me onto the vast expanse of his king-sized bed. The springs groaned under my weight, and for a moment, I lay disoriented, gasping for breath. Before I could even attempt to scramble away, he was over me, a dark shadow blotting out the dim light of the room.

His mouth returned to my skin, not just my lips, but everywhere. He bit down on my neck, leaving angry, burning marks. His teeth scraped against my collarbone, his lips suckling fiercely, possessively. The more I squirmed, the more he pressed his body against mine, a heavy, suffocating weight. "Please," I choked out, tears streaming down my face, begging him to stop, to show some semblance of humanity. But he was lost to the rage, to the alcohol, to his own twisted desires. My pleas were swallowed by the terrifying silence of the room, unheard, unheeded.

His hands moved to my clothes, tearing at the flimsy fabric of my kurti. The sound of ripping cloth was loud in the quiet room, a stark testament to his brutal disregard. I slapped him, hard, the sharp crack echoing. It was an act of pure, desperate defiance. For a moment, his head snapped back, his eyes flaring with an even more terrifying anger. That was my mistake.

He grabbed my wrists, twisting them, and with a swift, merciless movement, he tied them above my head to the headboard with something rough, probably a silk tie from his closet. My struggles intensified, but I was utterly helpless. The remnants of my kurti were ripped away, then my leggings, leaving me exposed, vulnerable. I lay there, clad only in my bra and panties, tears blurring my vision, a raw, primal fear gripping my heart.

He stared at me, his eyes devouring every inch of my exposed skin. It wasn't a look of desire, but of ownership, of a dark, possessive hunger. He began to bite, leaving angry, red marks across my stomach, my ribs, as if he were branding me, claiming me as his own. His fingers moved to my bra, pinching my n*****s through the fabric. I winced, a sharp cry of pain escaping my lips, but he showed no mercy. He ripped the lace, sending buttons scattering across the bed, then his hands were on my breasts, cupping them roughly, kneading them. He suckled, bit, and marked, leaving angry bruises on the soft skin. The pain was excruciating, but still, he continued his brutal claiming.

His hand then slid lower, tracing the curve of my hip, then delving into my panties. My body tensed, every muscle screaming in protest. With a single, brutal tug, he tore them away, leaving me completely naked, completely exposed. I sobbed, twisting my body, trying to escape the inevitable. But his hand was there, rubbing roughly against my sensitive flesh, igniting a searing pain. He pressed a finger inside me, and the pain intensified, a sharp, tearing sensation that made me cry out. I was a virgin, and his brutal entry was agonizing. He pushed and pulled, his movements rough, forceful. I begged him, pleaded for him to stop, to leave me alone, but he was deaf to my cries. He added another finger, then another, stretching me, forcing me open. I felt something building inside, a raw, unbearable pressure. "Release," he commanded, his voice a low growl. I didn't understand what he meant, or perhaps, I couldn't. All I felt was a blinding, all-consuming pain.

He stood then, a dark, imposing figure, and began to shed his own clothes. The sight of his powerful, unyielding body, the anger etched on his face, filled me with a fresh wave of terror. He was completely naked, his large, hard erection thrusting forward, a stark, terrifying promise of what was to come. My eyes squeezed shut, desperately trying to block out the horrifying reality.

"Open your eyes, Neha," he commanded, his voice sharp, unforgiving. I kept them closed, trembling, willing myself to disappear. A sharp crack against my cheek, then another, and another. My head snapped to the side, a hot, metallic taste filling my mouth. Blood began to ooze from my split lip, trickling down my chin. The pain was immense, forcing my eyes open, tears blurring my vision.

The moment they opened, he thrust himself into me. The pain was immediate, blinding, a searing agony that ripped through my body. I screamed, a raw, guttural sound, as I felt him tear through me, the sound of ripping flesh echoing in my ears. I felt a warm gush of liquid, my own blood, mixing with his heat. He began to thrust, in and out, roughly, mercilessly, each movement a fresh wave of agony. He lifted my legs, throwing them over his shoulders, deepening the penetration, his body pressing down, trapping me beneath him. Hours passed, or perhaps mere moments; time ceased to exist in that hell. He continued his brutal assault, relentless, uncaring. He came inside me, not once, not twice, but again and again, each time a new wave of pain, a new wave of violation.

The last thing I remembered was the searing pain, the suffocating weight of him, and then, mercifully, darkness. I succumbed to the black abyss, escaping the torment of my reality.