His hands fell from her cheeks to her breasts. Her skin was soft under his rough hands, and the juxtaposition of sensations made her nipples perk. They massaged her and slapped her, and she was powerless to move away.
Pressing her against a wall with her wrists cuffed tightly above her head, he dipped his lips against her neck. She had long ago given up pushing against him, and the drug he had slipped down her tongue was starting to take effect. Every sensation was intensified, and the warmth of a single breath against her ear sent shivers down her spine. Her body ached, not just from the sting of Baal's seemingly endless torture, but from the way he played with her but never quite got her to her release.
She couldn't remember how she ended up here, nor had she been able to keep track of time. She tried to focus on remembering 'the before' – that is, whatever she had been before this – but her memories were just all just the same damn thing. Baal had started by demanding information from her, information she had at first tried her hardest to hide, but now couldn't remember at all. Now he seemed to no longer care about anything other than using her body to fuck.
Her clothes were long gone and her body was covered in grime. Baal didn't seem to notice. He bit roughly at her neck and licked at the blood that trickled from the wound. Grabbing a handful of her hair that now fell just past her shoulders, he pulled her head back, smacking it against the wall of his ship. She groaned and felt his responding pleasure against her heat.
Her breasts were swollen and her skin was hot. Panting, she begged him to do something other than tease her. She needed release. That seemed to push him further, and he dug his knuckles against her ass. Kneading her cheeks, he trailed his fingers down farther and inserted two into her. He wasn't gentle; he finger-fucked her until she was crying out in pain. However, the stimulant he had slipped her was electric and the pain sent shiver down her spine and into her core. She was hot; she could have sworn she was engulfed in flames, and she desperately needed him to put her out.
"My dear Samantha. You are certainly beautiful." He buried his face against her neck and finally pushed himself inside of her. Occassionally he'd throw a pleasantry her way. She wasn't sure why, but it made her stomach crawl. If his servants allowed her more than one meal a day, she figured she'd probably have vomited.
He thrusted hard and quick, his symbiote giving him stamina that most men didn't have. And he wasn't particularly small either – she knew Goa'ulds were vain, so she shouldn't have been surprised to find out that Baal's host was more than blessed.
His hands trailed her body, muscles well defined from her many years of dedication to… well, whatever she had been dedicated to before being relegated to Baal's frequent fuck. He told her on numerous occasions that she should be thankful a god like him would choose to be with a peasant like her, but her skin always prickled and her mind always revolted.
The drug finally fully kicked in, and she bucked against him as she tried to get him to work her faster. He let out a low chuckle and reached up to release her from the wall. Her hands, although still bound, fell over his shoulders, as if in an embrace. He pulled out of her and she whimpered. She could see the sweat drip off Baal's brow and the stench of sex lingered in the air. Baal released her hands and she looked at her wrists, red and bloody. She couldn't remember the last time she had been able to freely move her arms. They felt limp and tingly, but the drug Baal had given her pumped her with enough adrenaline to be able to give her the ability to move them. She took the opportunity to lunge at him and he quickly caught her and threw her to the ground. Momentarily knocked out of breath, she laid there long enough for Baal to grab a knife from the utensil tray that stood proudly next to his torture wall.
Pressing her against the floor and holding the knife tight enough to draw blood – she wasn't even sure what was blood or dirt anymore; everything was caked together in a grimy mess – he hissed at her.
"You will not disobey me, my dear Samantha. You will oblige my need to fuck, and you will do it with pleasure." He smirked at her and the raw power in his eyes made her heart speed up.
She rocked her hips under him and threw her head back, using his name to beg him to finish their release. The stone floor was cold on her back and it helped her high de-intensify, but when Baal leaned forward to grab her earlobe in between his teeth, she nearly buckled at the pleasure.
He rubbed his thumb against her clit and when she murmured the wrong name – 'Jack', the name that kept popping up in her mind but had no face to match it – he thrusted into her without warning and she screamed. He seemed to take pleasure from that, screwing his face tight with passion. Her voice was raw from screaming. She remembered a time she wouldn't have screamed at all, but she couldn't imagine how she could have ever managed that.
She took this momentary lapse in attention to bring her freed hands up and wrap them around his neck. Squeezing hard, he opened his eyes, surprised at her, and pressed the knife harder into her throat. She didn't relent, though, and he continued to thrust as if turned on by the sudden act of rebellion and his lack of power. They continued this way until Baal's face began to redden. He threw the knife to the side and it skittered across the floor.
"I had forgotten how much of a fighter you were, Samantha," he forced out. "Tsk tsk, I really have broken you."
With that revelation, and one final thrust, Baal came inside her. He came violently and quickly and her vision blurred. Everything began to tunnel and she felt like she might explode. "Please," she begged. He didn't let go of her throat but thrust one more time, bringing her to the brink, and her vision went completely dark.