Chapter 14: Clean

I couldn't think of anything except the pain of my stomach eating itself, and the moment the door opened I was in the doorway, clutching the front of Arthur's vest.

"Arthur where have you been?!" He raised a painted eyebrow as I accosted him. "I'm so hungry!" I pushed past him and to my surprise he didn't stop me: he must've been able to tell I only had eyes for the kitchen.

"Sorry Princess. Business took longer than I thought."

I wasn't listening anymore. My eyes were wide, searching as I threw open the fridge. It was empty aside from some jars and a stick of butter. Nothing fresh or substantial. I turned my attention to the cupboards, desperate for something. Bread! I snatched it, all but tearing open the package and stuffing slices into my mouth ravenously. My mouth gummed up with thick mouthfuls of starch and I struggled to chew it fast enough but it eventually slid down my throat, glorious calories. I truly couldn't remember the last time I'd even wanted food, let alone enjoyed it so much.

Arthur had lit a cigarette, and was tinkering with something at the kitchen table. Wires and electronics. I didn't stop to see what it was because I had some suspicions, and didn't want to confirm them because they weren't good.

My stomach growled at me and I realised I was still hungry. The bread was good, but I wanted something more, something hot and hearty. I rooted around the cupboard again, pulling out a package of bowtie pasta. A vision of piping hot, saucy, cheesy pasta popped into my head and I found myself actually drooling as I searched for a saucepan. With a lot of clanging of pans and excited spilling of ingredients I made my meal. One of the jars in the fridge contained pasta sauce and I even found a nearly demolished block of parmesan in the back of one of the fridge drawers.

My eyes boggled slightly at how much my hungry stomach had thought was the appropriate amount - it could easily fill four bowls. The bread had settled slightly and I was feeling more rational; I knew I'd only be able to eat one and a half at best. I could probably save the rest... or... I glanced over my shoulder at Arthur, who was still preoccupied. How often did he eat? Did he eat anything decent? No, why should I care? Well what did it hurt to make sure I was on his good side?

"Here." I placed a second bowl in front of him as I sat down at the table. I sat sort of diagonally from him, not wanting to sit next to him but not wanting to be exactly opposite either. His eyes reluctantly pulled away from his project.

"In case you're hungry." I mumbled, feeling stupider by the minute.

His gaze flicked to me, lingering for a second before he returned his attention to the mass of wires and metal under his hands.

I felt myself going slightly red and stuffed a mouthful of pasta into my mouth as if it would help. The hot sauce seared my mouth. So he didn't want it? Fine. What did I care. It was a stupid gesture in the first place. I felt so awkward eating in front of him when he was clearly trying to concentrate. Why did I sit with him at the table?! I should've just eaten it standing up. I scarfed the rest down quickly, excusing myself to load it in to the dishwasher.

Since I no longer felt like my stomach was tying itself in knots, my mind returned to the situation at hand, and my other senses began to bother me. I hadn't washed in probably 48 hours, and among the blood, dried and crusty on my lips, nose and forehead, dust and dirt from our scuffles on the ground, and just the feeling of Arthur touching me - I felt dirty. So dirty. I was suddenly desperate for a shower, as desperate as I'd been to eat just moments prior. There was no reason why I couldn't just take one... right? Arthur still seemed pretty occupied.

"I-I'm going to take a shower." I announced. Arthur's eyes flicked to me briefly but soon returned to his task, and I took that as approval.

I checked the bathroom for towels; there was a full cupboard of them just outside and I selected the biggest. I triple-checked the lock behind me after closing the door - I wasn't having anyone accidentally walk in on me. When I hopped under the shower head I was overwhelmed by the glorious hot jet of water that pounded my skin, searing away all the dirt and grime and memories. My lip and forehead stung but it was a good sting as I knew I was getting clean. I was in the shower for a good 20 minutes, and even then I was reluctant to get out; it was like under the water my problems didn't exist, I was just warm and refreshed. However, I knew eventually Arthur would come looking for me so I had to finish up.

I wrapped myself in the towel; it covered me from shoulder to ankle and I nuzzled into its warmth. When I was dry I reached down for my clothes but stopped. Was I really going to put the same soiled, blood crusted clothes back on now that I was clean? I didn't have any clothes with me though - it wasn't like Arthur had let me pack a bag for my kidnapping.

The owner of the house though... my mind thought back to the portrait. She looked roughly my size, my build. I'd seen a ton of women's clothes in the closet when I was ransacking the room for snacks. I could just borrow something... that wasn't weird right? Ok, it was totally weird. But I was desperate. Pushing the idea that I might be about to steal a dead woman's clothing to the back of my mind, I checked the towel was wrapped tightly around me and tiptoed into the hallway. I could hear Arthur shuffling around in the kitchen still as I slipped into the bedroom and shut the door.

"Ok..." I pulled open the wardrobe door and studied what I saw. Plenty of fancy cocktail dresses; not quite what I needed. I tried a few drawers before I found what I was looking for: some comfy t-shirts and jeans. No sweatpants sadly. I needed underwear first though.

Ok now this is super weird... I hoped I wasn't going to hell for what I was doing.

To my dismay, it appeared that this lady had very racy taste in lingerie; everything was tiny, or had cutouts, or ruffles, or lace. After rooting around for a while I pulled out a dark blue pair of panties and a matching bra. They were somewhat see-through, but at least they'd actually cover my butt cheeks. The bra was a little small when I put it on and I was debating whether I should try to find something better or just layer up a couple of shirts, when I heard a sound that made my blood run cold.

"Miiiii-aaa..." Arthur's voice sang my name a moment before the door handle began to turn.

"Wait- don't come in!" I screeched, but he was already standing in the doorway. I shrieked, and reached for the towel, pressing it into my half-naked body protectively, but not before he had looked me slowly up and down. "I-I'm changing." I stammered. "Get out."

I really wished I'd just put my old clothes back on.

Arthur didn't leave.

After a beat, he grinned and began to saunter towards me. I stood frozen, in disbelief and not certain what to do.

Whyishecomingoverherewhyishenotleavingohmygodi'mhalfnakedwhatthefuckishedoing

My mind babbled at me incoherently and I could only stare, trembling as he stopped in front of me.

"What are you hiding under that towel Mi-mi?"

I clutched the towel around me but with an intentional yank he snatched it away, clearly relishing my vulnerability as I attempted to cover myself as much as possible with my hands.

Obviously when he'd kissed me before my mind had gone to some dark places, wondering what he wanted and how far he would go... but I couldn't believe it was actually happening. It couldn't be.

"G-give it back... please..." I couldn't look at him; I was too full of fear and shame.

"Why are you being so coy Princess? I know how much you want my hands on you."

"W-what? No I-I-" I took a step back but it was into the arm he'd just snaked around me and I found myself pressed into his embrace against the wardrobe door.

This time, when his mouth hit mine, his tongue forced its way in straight away, with no patience to tease my lips first. His hands slid into my hair, cradling the back of my head, and his knee pressed slightly into my thigh, reminding me that everything was up to him.

"Mmm-mpphh- n- stop!" I was so done. So done with his games. Rage fueled me to such an extent that I managed to shove him off me. "Arthur... just... just stop! I get it okay?!" I was shouting at point-blank range. "I know you're trying to show me who's in control, I get the idea! I know I can't stop you from doing whatever you want! You don't need to keep proving your dominance! Just... just leave me alone! I know I can't escape so I'm not even going to bother trying so just- just stop!"

When I'd finished my tirade, Arthur looked irritated; I thought he was mad that I was trying to ruin his fun.

"You're still trying to pretend you don't want this?" He almost snarled at me, his tongue darting around as he enunciated. "Why are you still playing dumb Mia? It's getting tiring."

"Wh- Dumb...? W-What do you mean...?"

"Stop denying how you feel." He'd closed the gap between us again; I could tell he had limited patience for explaining himself. "I know your secret. You can't hide something like that from me. I saw it from a mile away."

"Saw what? Arthur I don't unders-" I squealed as he gripped my upper arms with a fierce insistence, almost throwing me back into the wardrobe.

"Just admit it already Mia. You're in love with me. I've known it for a long time." The anger evaporated off his face and he began to laugh, looking to the side with quiet chuckles that evolved into vibrating guffaws. "I caught all the signs. The amount of time you spent with me in Arkham. The fact that you kept coming back, again and again, no matter what I did to you. I saw you always staring at me with longing." He cupped my shocked face in his hands, stroking his thumbs across my cheeks. "The way you took every opportunity to touch me, the way you tried to defend me from the orderlies. Not to mention I saw how miserable you were without me - drinking yourself to death, alone in your apartment. I figured it out a long time ago Mia. You've been in love with me from the moment you first saw me." He smirked. "It's ok. I get it."

"I... I..."

Oh my God.

This man was absolutely insane. Well, I'd kind of known that already - why else would he be in Arkham - but this? This was next level. I'd never even heard of person being so delusional. In love with him? Was he serious? How did I even reply to something like that? Did I laugh in his face and tell him he was a total moron? Gently explain how wrong he was? Go along with it in case he decided to kill me? I opened my mouth but nothing came out because I truly did not know what to say. In love with him? With him? I would've laughed if I wasn't so terrified.

Arthur seemed to take my silence as agreement, and pressed into me, his lips once again going in for the attack.

"Mmm-mmphh-nghh-no! Arthur you're fucking deluded!" His forced kisses helped me find my voice and I was screaming at him before I could decide if I was signing my own death warrant. "There is absolutely no way in hell that I am possibly or have possibly ever been in love with you. You are wrong and you are a complete psych- mmphh!"

"Mmm... come on Mi-mi." Arthur spoke between pecks. "You practically threw yourself at me yesterday."

"I- that was you!" Was he kidding? "I-I was trying to stop you!"

"Mhmm..." He pressed his mouth onto mine aggressively, sliding his tongue across my bottom lip.

"I know how much you want this Mi-mi... even if you want to lie about it."

He exerted force on my shoulders; I resisted but he was quick to kick my feet out from under me and pull them towards him, the force flattening me against the carpet. I felt his hands slide around to my back, and the temporary rage that had consumed me fell away and all that was left was the fear. I tried to shrink away but couldn't press myself any further into the floor, nor generate enough force to prevent his hands from sliding all the way to the clasp of my bra. Panic descended on me.

"A-Arthur n-n-no... please, p-please don't." I was beginning to cry. "Please... please..."

He continued to grope at the fabric as I struggled and sobbed, holding me still with ease. He seemed to be having trouble with the fastenings, and eventually all but ripped them apart. Very slowly, he pulled the straps over my shoulders; I pressed my hands over the cups in desperation to keep my privacy. They were the only thing keeping the flimsy piece of fabric in place.

I felt his fingertips suddenly trail down my stomach, to below my belly button, and I panicked: I reached down and stacked both hands over my underwear as a protective shield. Arthur was sly, however, and he'd tricked me; he was now free to remove my bra entirely, and he threw it far out of my reach.

"No! Don't-!"

Our arms wrestled; me, trying to cover myself up, him wanting a better view. Of course the stronger of the two of us won, and it made me feel sick how he stared, so lustfully, down at me, half naked beneath him. I couldn't hold back a sob.

"Please Arthur..."

His lips crashed back down on mine as I spoke and I wondered if he was hearing my pleas as me begging for him to ravage me. As his rough hands slid across my stomach I screwed my eyes shut, trying to send my brain into a daydream where this wasn't happening.

Imagine it's Ben. It's not Arthur, it's Ben touching you.

His fingers reached my right breast and tears slid to either side of my face, wetting clumps of my hair. The way he touched me was so different, so much more aggressive and commanding that there was no way I could trick myself into thinking it wasn't Arthur.

"N-no! Stop!" I choked out a cry as he explored my chest with his hands, squeezing and fondling without making a particular effort to be gentle. His fingers found my nipples and he rolled them between his fingertips, with only a little pressure at first but then pinching hard. He pressed his face into my chest.

"I need to be closer to you Mi-mi. This isn't enough." His words were a murmur from beneath my flesh.

I could see his face paint had left smudges of red, blue and white across my chest, and the trails began to extend down my stomach as he slid his tongue down over my skin. I shuddered and struggled, but he caught my wrists with his hands, now only using his mouth to explore. I shivered with a terrified anticipation as I felt his breath skid across my hips.

"Nngh... no!" His tongue trailed along the waistband of my panties just before I felt his teeth hook over the edge, allowing his hot breath to wisp underneath. With a painfully slow motion he pulled them down, using his hands to assist in stripping them off my legs completely. I was totally bare underneath him. I couldn't have felt more exposed, more vulnerable than I did in that moment. That is, until I felt the tip of his tongue slide purposefully over my labia.

His first lap was gentle; his tongue skated lightly all the way from the bottom to the top of my womanhood, just tickling the top of the folds. I squirmed beneath him, and his grip moved to my hips, his fingers pressing into my butt cheeks as he held me in place firmly. I felt his tongue move across me a second time and let out a strangled moan. He was burying it deeper into me, beginning to lick and suck with such reckless abandon that I nearly screamed from the overwhelming assault on my senses. The experience was such a weird mishmash of confusion; there was a feeling that was so associated with pleasure drilling into my mind but at the same time just complete fear and humiliation that it was being done by the very last person that I ever wanted to touch me so intimately. A tremor ran down my torso and I couldn't stop my hips from bucking; whether it was in desperation to get away or my body responding to his tongue penetrating harder into my folds I wasn't sure.

One of his hands left my hip and that was when I felt something tickling the entrance to my vagina. Before I knew it he was sliding a finger inside me.

"A-ahh- n-no..." I whimpered at the intrusion, though in the back of my mind I was grateful he was kind enough to take it one finger at a time. His fingertip curled and I couldn't stop my butt lifting off the ground as my hips responded. Why was my body so affected by this? I just wanted it to reject it all. But as he added one, then two more fingers it was totally beyond me to not react.

"Unff-" I bit my lip to quell the sounds spilling out of me. Was this pleasure or pain? Disgust or dirty enjoyment? I didn't know. I felt something welling in the very pit of my stomach and it was a huge relief that his next move was to pull away. I saw a hungry look of determination in his eyes as he sat up momentarily.

Naively, I thought that was the end of it - but at the sound of his belt unbuckling I realized there was much worse to come. My eyes widened in horror and I thrashed harder underneath him, completely unable to move my legs since he was now sitting on my thighs as he freed himself.

"N-No... no... no..." I was begging, my voice breathy and hysterical. "A-Arthur please... I- I'll do whatever you want - anything - j-just not that, please, I-"

He was breathing heavily, and I knew he didn't hear me, either deep within his delusion or just past the point of caring.

As nausea welled in my stomach, I felt the tip of his manhood drag like a heavy weight over my inner thigh and, perhaps anticipating my discomfort, he was grasping my wrists, keeping me in place so there was absolutely nothing I could do about this unwanted contact. His length was ever so slightly wet and left a trail of moisture across the skin of my leg before he stopped at my pubic bone. Feeling his hardness pushing against me sent a new wave of fear shivering through my body and it seemed to halt my movement entirely. My muscles gave up; they knew what was going to happen and couldn't overcome the shock enough to change the outcome. My body seemed to just give in to him.

"A-Arthur..." He silenced me with a kiss, pushing the sobs that were waiting back into my throat.

As unwanted as I thought his attempts at foreplay were, it did seem to have warmed my body up to the idea slightly even though my mind was still vehemently against it; when he pushed himself inside me it was less painful than I'd expected. He intruded without a huge amount of resistance, although his total lack of hesitation somewhat added to my discomfort. I'd almost have preferred if it had been a painful struggle for him to enter me; the idea that my body was at all amenable to him was nauseating. As I felt him fully submerge himself in me I let out a small moan of distress, but It was drowned out by his exclamation of satisfaction.

Neither of us seemed to have an ability for words for a moment, only noises. I whimpered as felt his fingertips curl into the flesh on my shoulders for leverage, he grunted as he began to slowly move in and out of me with hard, deliberate thrusts. I almost wanted him to go faster - just to get it over with - but soon regretted my wish when he got into the rhythm or perhaps couldn't hold himself back, and began oscillating at a faster pace. My head hit the wardrobe door every couple of seconds and I could feel my inner walls grating against his length. He grabbed my chin suddenly with rough fingers, dragging my gaze to meet his.

"Mia..." He grunted. "Tell me how hard you want me to fuck you."

I could only shake my head, seriously taken aback by the extent of his grandeur. I knew at that moment that he could only see me squirming with pleasure, begging him to go faster, harder. I knew there was no way I could break through the fantasy he'd built up and I didn't try anymore. I could only wait for it to be over.

His grip tightened unnecessarily. He moved one hand around my buttocks and pulled my cheeks apart, giving him better access to my intimacy and allowing him to press himself even deeper inside me. I gasped at the increase in pain and dug my fingertips into his back, seeking some form of comfort from violence.

"Ungh..." Everything became a blur of limbs and senses and moans. His hand gripped the back of my head with a crushing insistence and my hips protested one last time just as he came to an abrupt stop. He collapsed on top of me, heaving out a long conclusive breath. A growl of satisfaction reverberated through my head, his lips sitting inches from my ear.

I lay still, defeated.