She ran down the hall, out the door, past the patio, and into the void. Her legs pumped, taking her further away from him, from her love. The wind whipped her blonde hair, stinging as it stuck to her face and her neck. The cold air bit into her flesh, the gown she wore not helping from the winter night.

Her legs carried her to the unknown, the forbidden. The dense forest went on for miles, engulfing her in darkness. The moon was bright overhead, but not enough to help light her way.

Tripping over a tree branch, she fell to her knees, tears marring her face. The mascara ran, leaving black lines on her jaw. Her eyes scanned her surroundings, the unfamiliar area scaring her.

She had never run before. With no reason to, she was content with her life. Her soulmate beside her, nothing could or would make her run.

Until tonight.

The betrayal, the lies, and the heartbreak pushed her away. Though he never promised anything, never gave her an inkling of more, she never expected tonight. She hadn't thought he would take her heart and step on it, which is what he did. She watched in horror as her soulmate, the love of her life, ripped her heart out and pierced it.

She wasn't whole anymore, if she ever was.

The rocks, pebbles, and tree bark perforated her skin along her legs and feet. Vines with thorns marked her skin, pieces still embedded in her body. Her gown was torn, dirty, and bloody. She was a mess, her former self tucked away as she sat there crying.

He would come for her. When? She didn't know. Hopefully soon, but she made a mess out of his night, and he wouldn't be pleased. She knew whenever he found her, her punishment would be severe. Something she deserved.

A distant sound caught her attention, her eyes flying open. Scanning the forest, her eyes still hadn't adjusted to the dark night. Her ears picked up on the small noises, though she didn't know where they were coming from.

Head held down in shame, she closed her eyes, waiting for him.

She smelled him first. The musk, the sandalwood fragrance of his body. He was all male. Tall, gorgeous, and thick, mixed with his male scent, made women go crazy. When he picked her, when he chose her out of all the others, she was ecstatic. He wanted her, marking then and there how she belonged to him.

Fingering the collar around her neck, her hand brushed the lock that kept it in place. The other day, when she originally found out his plans, she took it off, throwing it at his feet. Hours later he brought back the new one, heavy metal with a lock, and fastened it around her.

His smug look and eyes that turned black easily pierced into her soul, baiting her into trying to remove this one.

He was before her now, his body close enough to touch but far away at the same time. She itched to touch him, to feel him before her, to say sorry. She kept still, her hands resting along her thighs, the way he taught her. Her head stayed down, her eyes averted.

His hand snaked out, his callous fingers running through her hair. She purred as his hands massaged her scalp. She knew it was only a matter of minutes before he became rough.

He could be gentle when she was good, but she wasn't tonight. Overall, over the last five years, things were great. He took care of her, her needs, and her wants. Her body and soul. Only a handful of occasions he had to punish her. It wasn't like the first year they were together. Where he had to tear her down, where he had to remake her.

It was a struggle. The punishments were brutal and harsh, but she survived, healed, and became who she is now.

The ring on her finger, not a wedding ring but a promise ring of devotion and love, glinted in the moonlight. His hand stilled, both sets of eyes peering at it. He gave it to her when she became whole again. She became his, to love, to cherish, and to do with as he pleased. A vow.

His hand still petted her, smoothing her hair away from her face. His other hand cupping his massive cock through his pants. Without a word, he pulled his zipper down, the noise breaking the silence of the night. She could hear it, the slow burn of desire punctuating each tooth it bypassed.

The noise stopped, followed by the slap of his cock as he pulled it out, hitting his abs. She rose up, not tall enough to actually reach his waist, but she knew that no matter what, his cock would be in her mouth regardless.

With her hands behind her back, she took a deep breath and permitted him to force it down her mouth. She gagged, the intrusion not foreign but intently different. He wasn't easy either. His hands on his hips, he pushed his ten-inch cock forcibly down her throat, taking what she had to offer.

Her body belonged to him from day one, even when she fought him. There was never a doubt; she gave him everything, anything.

Her cheeks hollowed, she bobbed along his shaft, saliva dripping down to his balls. She felt his eyes on her, watching her mouth as she fed him inside her delicious mouth. Heaven, he sometimes called it. Her tongue massaged his length, running up and down his vein, then around his mushroomed head.

She had practiced for hours, days, to perfect the proper rhythm. To perfect her mouth and how she took him. She learned to read his body, the signs he permitted informing her on what he wanted. Either a slow pace, one to draw out his release, or a faster pace to swallow his seed, giving him instant gratification. Sometimes, he wanted her just to get him slick enough to take one of her other holes.

He buried his cock deep in her throat, the pulsating shaft letting her know he was going to release. It didn't take but a mere minute, his cock deep, her lips closed tightly, holding him as jet after jet shot out. She swallowed, gagging here and there, but cleaning his cock the way she was taught.

She kept him in her mouth, even when he became flaccid. It was up to him to pull it out or to make her suck him again. It was always his choice, and she just followed along.

His cock disappeared into his pants, the zipper and button done. His hand fisted into her hair, pulling her over the rough ground. She remained silent as she stumbled along. The house stood before them, the dark gray with black shutters making it ominous.

Music poured out, mixed with laughter and voices. They stopped at the back door, the kitchen bustling in front of them. Without a word, her gown was stripped off, her naked flesh flushed with want, with need, with desire. He pulled her into the house, into the ballroom where dozens of people milled around. He kept going, through the crowd of onlookers, up the stairs, and into his chambers.

He didn't stop until he tied her to the bed, her dirty backside displayed. Her knees under her, her arms stretched to the fullest. He shucked his clothes, his silk boxers the only adornment he left. His footsteps, loud even on the carpet, trailed away from her.

She knew, deep down, what he planned. He would get a belt, spanking her until her screams filled the whole house. He wouldn't settle for just twelve.

She braced herself, the whoosh coming before the strike. She screamed, counted, and took it all. By twenty, her voice was hoarse, her screams no longer ringing out.

He gently laid the belt at the end of the bed, then pulled her legs apart, adjusting the restraints to keep them apart. Her whole body was a display, one he admired with lust, with a deep yearning. He took his time, drawing out his pleasure.

Tonight was about him, about reclaiming her body. He had to show her again who was the boss, who was in charge. Who she belonged to.

His hands went to her ass, the calluses running over each welt. In some areas blood came to the surface, an indifference to times before. Her puffy skin, broken and battered, turned him on. The sheer dominance he controlled and the submission she craved ignited a passion in him no one else could.

His lips touched her, his tongue lavishing attention on her backside as he licked every inch possible. Her taste was exquisite, an aphrodisiac that made him want more. Some nights he would draw more blood, the metallic smell begging him to taste, to suck, to lick.

He pulled his boxers off, his thick cock slapping his abs as he stood behind her. His cock wanted to be buried in her sweet heat and wanted to pull her back to him. His hand pushed him down, his cock lining up at her entrance. The push seated himself to the hilt, his cock gone between her bottom lips.

She screamed out, with joy, with reckless abandonment. His cock was fully in her, his massive size stretching her as always. She loved the feel of him, the joy of knowing he couldn't get enough of her body. She gave herself freely to him, whenever, wherever. He was the boss, the proprietor of her.

He slowly pulled out, his mushroomed head staying in. Then he slowly pushed back in, his cat-and-mouse game painstakingly sluggish. She wanted more, faster, harder. He was in control, always and forever. He led; she followed.

His cock made her pussy a mess, the blubbering noises overwhelming the once quiet space. She leaked pre-cum and her nectar, the mixture causing their noses to breathe them in. She loved it—his smell, his taste, and his authority. He played his game, bringing her higher, her crescendo peeking out, but then he took it away. Again, he brought her higher before stopping, making her shake uncontrollably.

He wanted to edge her, to make her remember he held her pleasure, her pain, in his hands. In his body. She would relearn everything again if he deemed it necessary. Which, right now, he did. Her pussy hugged him; her walls slick with need held him as his thrust slowed down. He was eager to spill his seed but controlled himself until she was wrecked.

His game worked; hours passed as he fucked her hard, then soft. As he played her like a fiddle, her orgasm was on the cusp of rupture. She got close, then he backed off. He ejaculated a few times, picking between her lips or on her back. He was saving the big one for last, when he would allow her to go over with him.

She played her part, taking everything he threw her way.

He began fucking her again, this time with more enthusiasm. She knew this time was the last time and he would let her finish with him. Her body connected to his, the two of them matching thrusts. His hands dug into her tender body, his nails definitely leaving marks.

His cock poked and prodded, the slight curve reaching new depths. His hunger grew, the wildness of his passion was out of control, but he went along with it. He fucked her so hard, her lower body lifted off the bed with his powerful drives. He didn't let up, wanting, needing to feel her milking him.

Her explosion was instantaneous, a fast burn he felt in his toes. His pelvis slammed into her, the broken skin forced back open, drawing small drops of blood. His body claimed it, causing a momentum of raw hunger to burn. His cock stilled, his hands holding onto her as the last bit of his seed jetted inside of her.

They screamed, the inferno whipping them both, igniting another trigger as they both climaxed again. Their bodies fused, two became one as he grunted his approval, forcing her into the mattress.

She felt alive; her heart sang as he draped his thick body over hers. His hands undid her bonds, their bodies falling into a heap of tangled limbs on his bed. They didn't move, both of them taking big breaths as their bodies came down from their high.

He didn't take long; his breath was back to normal in mere minutes. He stood up, got dressed, and placed his face nose-to-nose with her.

"You do that shit again and I will let everyone take turns using your body. Now, I have guests to get back to." He left quietly; the only sound left behind was her quick intakes of breath. He left her tied down, left her to stay there until he was ready to let her go.