Author's Notes: Hello everyone! Before beginning, my writer partner Kenju wanted to say a few words. So here they are!
"Hello again and sorry for taking so long to get this chapter to you, but once again real life (and vacation) got in the way of bringing this to you sooner. Now we wanted to address some concerns that have been raised lately in regards to Gwen taking the spotlight these last few chapters. The main reason for this is the story followed Cody and Heather almost exclusively with only side stories and plots involving others such as Jasmine. Gwen IS one of the main characters of the story, but hasn't been given much time to really develop and progress as a character in the story as they have, so this short arc is to give readers a chance to get a feel for her as well as give us a chance to get use to writing and working with her. Don't worry about Cody and Heather, they will be returning for the spotlight in just a few short chapters."
With that in mind, lets get this show on the road, shall we? Here it is chapter nineteen of Unbreakable Red Silken Thread: Chance: Married on Wednesday
October 29th, 2014 (11:25 AM)
The campus' main cafeteria was a thunderous din of numerous conversations overlapping and cascading all at once. Amid the sea of clashing voices and noises, Gwen sat as a silent isle of brooding ire, the world itself around her may as well not even have been there as she didn't even notice Duncan, who was sitting next to her with one arm around her as he groped her bust roughly. Rather than wilting a bit uncomfortably from Duncan's actions while they were in public as she usually did, she just glared at her plate, trying to will the now cold slice of pizza to spontaneously combust from her frustration and anger.
The reason for her negative mood was the previous day, how it started off on a rather bad foot, and ended even worse before the night's end.
Feeling her face heat up just from remembering that note, Gwen mentally cursed herself and Heather for what had to have been the hundredth time that day. She had snapped, Heather hadn't even done anything, just asked her a simple question, and she had snapped at her, exactly what she had been trying to avoid.
Heather got the reaction she wanted (the note proving it) and she hadn't even needed to needle her for it! Gwen had fallen into another one of the Queen Bee's mind games; she had become her bitch once again, and all because of one bad day she was back to square one as Heather's mouse to play with and abuse!
And sadly, today wasn't shaping up to be much better either. Gwen had overslept, meaning she barely had time to get changed and ready before coming down to grab a quick breakfast. As she continued to glare at the cold and questionably old slice of pizza, her memory flashed back to how the entire dorm smelled like pancakes and bacon when she woke up. That didn't help any, and neither did Duncan's relentless pawing at her chest, his groping having reached a level of strength that even her lost and closed off mind was unable to ignore.
From the moment she came in, right when she sat down, he had started playing with her breasts. His pawing was rough, even by his usual standards. Normally this wouldn't bother her, but two factors insured that it did this time. Firstly, she was very hungry and she knew that nothing would get Duncan to stop, meaning she had no chance of even remotely enjoying what little she could of her meal in peace. Secondly, she knew why he was doing it, what the added motive for his actions were aside from the seemingly bottomless ocean of lust that he was trying to convey to her without saying it.
Last night she had given him a goodbye present…but not exactly the kind he wanted.
If she had given him what he wanted, the Goth would have walked back that night with a 'wet' shirt instead of just a stained one. She still had a tiny crumb of her pride and dignity that she was holding onto, but she found that last bit of pride and dignity slowly strangled by Duncan's obvious and rather public gropes.
The Goth didn't want to think about how she would have relented if they were in private, not as she felt his fingers graze along the sensitive underside of her breasts in just the right way to make her squirm.
Pushing those thoughts away, she looked up and noticed someone watching her a few tables down, someone she recognized almost instantly.
The moment said person realized they had been caught, they looked away, shifting their attention to the person sitting next to them trying to hide what they had been doing by appearing to be in a conversation.
The person in question was the dark skinned giant from before, the one that helped Heather move her out of her dorm.
It took a moment for Gwen to process what was going on, but then it hit her hard.
Heather's lackey was spying on her, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why.
Stewing at the realization that Heather had someone spying on her, she was surprised when Duncan pulled her to him and kissed her, his tongue ramming itself into her mouth as though he was trying to map it out for the first time. When it was over, she asked him what it was for, breathless from the intensity and passion. Surprised, he pointed out how everyone was heading out and reminded her that she shouldn't miss her upcoming class since she had missed it the previous day.
Gwen sat there confused, until her watch's timer went off, and at that, she put two and two together. Her next class was going to start in a few minutes, and she had to hurry now since it was at the other end of campus. Feeling a familiar pain in her stomach, she groaned and hit her head on the table.
Yet again, she was going to be going hungry it seemed.
October 29th, 2014 (7:30 PM)
It had taken her a few days to get use to the changes imposed on her daily routine since accepting Heather's "deal" but the Goth was finally starting to figure out what she needed to do, and how to change accordingly. If there was one thing the Goth was, it was adaptable to her surroundings after all.
After choking down the cold slice of pizza she had for breakfast, Gwen managed to get through her classes for the day without too much trouble; having all her assignments to turn in and her books on hand (she now took her backpack with her to the showers in the morning just in case she locked herself out again). She was leaving nothing to chance. After her last class of the day, she made her usual B-line for the library to get her homework finished and worked a bit more on her project. She had two more weeks but she didn't want to let too much time pass and have to pull an all nighter to finish it if she could help it.
That was Duncan's thing, not hers, and if he needed help with any of his projects or assignments then she couldn't afford to have anything else on her mind.
From there, she stopped to pick up dinner from the cafeteria, knowing full well not to expect anything from Heather or Cody, and that Duncan hadn't been to the store yet she wasn't going to waste time doubling back if she wanted something to eat. All that left was her time with her boyfriend for the night, the one thing she had been looking forward to all day. Just as she had changed up her morning routine to including bringing her backpack with her to the shower, she also brought a change of clothes and her toiletries with her to Duncan's so she could shower before turning in for the night to insure there wasn't a repeat of the previous day. But that left an odd feeling congealing in her mostly pizza-less stomach.
From what happened at breakfast, she knew what he wanted from her, what he was expecting from her, and while it was far from enjoyable for her it wasn't too bad. Besides, she knew how much he enjoyed it, and that was all that mattered, so she could live with it. Though Gwen would die before admitting it, the tissues Heather had left her really had proved useful, and she suspected that they would be proving just as helpful again.
The moment Gwen walked into Duncan's dorm and made her way into his bedroom, she knew that her earlier suspicions had proven correct. Duncan was sitting there on the edge of his bed with his pants and boxers already lowered, his cock exposed and staring down intently as if waiting just for her. The look on his face was one that the Goth had seen many, many times before. It was a stern expression that was far harder than the many pieces of metal implanted into his face. It was a look that wouldn't leave unless Gwen did exactly what he wanted to make him cum. Those unwavering teal eyes pierced her like sapphire swords. She always felt so guilty and unworthy of him whenever he looked at her like that, and she would do just about anything to have the glazed gaze of a successful orgasm replace it.
With that motive in mind, she walked forward; with her high-heel, sharply pointed shoes firing off tiny jabs of discomfort into her heels and toes as their hard edges pressed against the softer foot flesh. Though Gwen had long since learned how to tune out the minor pain of these shoes, the knowledge of what she was about to do made that minuet inconvenience stand out all the more.
Titty-fucks were something she loathed if she were being honest; more so than giving blowjobs since a titty-fuck always meant a facial while with a blow job that was actually pretty rare. As much as she disliked the salty taste of semen, she disliked it on her face and in her hair far more.
As she got closer and closer to the edge of the bed, Gwen found that her mind was become more and more blank. The fact she didn't want to do this and any notions of trying to change his mind or push him towards something different were obliterated by the knowledge that it never worked. Not once that she could remember did he never relent when he got like this because of her neglecting him in the past. When Duncan was this horny, there was no point to bother trying reasoning with him because his mind was set.
Though she wasn't fond of what exactly he wanted when he got in these moods, she nonetheless shivered at feeling his want, his need for her, the longing that was almost a physical presence that pulled her to him with all the strength and power that his mighty frame itself could if he wanted.
This was what he wanted, and as long as she gave him what he wanted then everything was okay, there were no problems. So with one fluid motion she took off her top with one hand, tossing it aside while the other unhooked and discarded her bra while still approaching Duncan, her large breasts giving a healthy bounce and jiggle with each step, a feast for his eyes and the show his ego had long since grown to love.
The funny thing, though, at least for her was that giving him a titty-fuck itself wasn't actually the part that bothered her, not exactly. While she loved Duncan for his strength and how safe it made her feel to be enveloped in his muscular arms… She hated getting on her knees in front of him. She hated having to look up at that face, knowing that Duncan would be unhappy if she did not do what she was while basking in artificial, slutty awe at the wondrous flaccid cock that it was her privilege to pleasure as many times as he wanted. She hated that, but she complied with his long-standing condition because she knew it made him happy, and making him happy was something only she could do, it was the only thing she had that she could give him for all that he had given her. As she wiggled herself into position, making sure to give her breasts extra bounce and sway for his feasting eyes, she placed a few fingers in her mouth, licking and sucking on them, lubing them up on her own saliva. After they were sufficiently covered, she began stroking the Delinquent's dick with a strong and steady grip.
Duncan instantly reacted as he felt the slickened digits pleasantly slide along his length, a small moan of pleasure escaping him as his intense gaze weakened ever so slightly. There was something about a girl's warm, slick saliva that always felt so right on his cock. It was the reason why he demanded at least two blowjobs and/or titty-fucks a day from Gwen once they had become a couple.
Knowing that she was doing well, the Goth continued to stroke her boyfriend's growing cock with her skilled and practiced hands, their silky softness working his hardness. She ended up having to re-lube her fingers a few more times before he was ready but that was all part of her act, the show she put on for him that she knew he wanted. While there was the faint aftertaste of penis on her fingers when they reentered her mouth, it was so minimal that she barely noticed it. Part of the reason being due to the fact she was allowing much larger globes of spit to fall from her lips onto his cock as she stroked him. Years of giving Duncan these, with lots of incentive to always get better at giving them, had enabled her to perfect how to increase the amount of saliva in her mouth and how to pour it over his ever-growing manhood like gravy on a Thanksgiving Day turkey.
Noticing that Duncan's dick was now fully erect and gleaming from her saliva in the low light of the bedroom, Gwen sighed. With all the passion and interest of an automaton, she positioned herself and her chest. Kneeling down lower, with her cleavage almost level to the stiff mast, she grabbed hold of the undersides of her breasts, those divine D-cups of marble perfection jiggling in hands too small with fingers too slender to contain their extraordinary mass. Aligning the head of his penis with her cleavage, she pressed against it but denied it entry for the moment.
Gwen, with her expression unchanged, parted her breasts, and allowed the eager cock-head entry into her pillowy soft valley before pressing them together with her hands, and slowly slid her boobs down his shaft, encasing it in the soft wonderland of her supple bosom. Once it was there, she began sliding the slickened shaft between the breasts that heaved back and forth, back and forth, slowly at first to try and spread her slick saliva along the path for him.
Once her cleavage was sufficiently slick, and as the hard spire forced its way through her doughy breasts at a faster pace, Gwen started to zone out.
It was like she was there, but she wasn't. Her body was guiding her boyfriend's cock through her considerable cleavage but her mind was someplace else that she couldn't quite remember afterwards. It all felt like an out of body experience, like she really wasn't there, but the many sensations surrounding her proved that she was in fact there.
She could see Duncan as he sat before her or straddled her chest. She could feel him, his hot, hardened, wet member between her behemoth quivering bust, his hands on the back of her head, attempting to force his dick into her mouth while her tits worked on it, and the long and matted pubic hairs as they brushed along her chest and occasionally her face. She could taste him when he pushed her down as she offered quick and mandatory kisses, licks and sucks on his erect cock made slick by her previous offerings of saliva and pre-cum. She could hear him; his grunts of pleasure, curses of awe, her own moans and groans as she acted out just the way he liked, along with his demands to further degrade herself for his enjoyment. She could even smell him, with the overpowering musk of his crotch flooding every breath she took, with it being a scent that was extremely familiar.
Her senses worked fine; there was nothing wrong with her eyes, skin, tongue, ears or nose. But Gwen was not entirely there all the same. Something had blocked her brain's ability or desire to register what was happening, what she was enduring for her boyfriend's pleasure. Her mind was a void, an infinite chasm of empty thought, of mental white noise overpowering any thought beyond the reflexive memory of the different parts of her body to make Duncan cum. As she worked his cock, Gwen, the Goth of Total Drama, wasn't there. Instead there was only her body, dragging on with this task with what felt like excruciating slowness. What before had been torturous was now merely tedious, it was better to feel cold indifference than to feel the disgust she had felt when Duncan started to demand regular titty-fucks.
Through half-remembered visions briefly materializing before vanishing within a sea of ghosts and dreams, the Goth recalled how she tried to fight Duncan on this idea at first. How she had stubbornly clung to her dignity back then. But how, as time had worn on, she found herself giving in to his demands more and more, despite finding them unacceptable before. She soon figured out that her boyfriend's sexual conditions were inevitable, and that she would have to endure them because they were part of who he was, and she loved him, all of him. In this clouded state, she sometimes tried to think of a time before this, but she almost never could. She always found it very difficult, if not impossible, when trying to think of a time when her life didn't revolve around Duncan. It had only been a few years but her life before Duncan was hazy and dreamlike, distant. It felt like it belonged to someone else and she had always been simply a close observer.
But those kinds of thoughts never lasted more than a few seconds, if even that. Instead, there was no thought in her mind. She merely remained focused on the task at hand, pleasuring Duncan. It was the only way to get though her efforts, to only focus on that. The only way to pleasure Duncan was to focus only on pleasuring Duncan.
And that was what she did, right up until Duncan finished. He never gave her any warning, but in her state it would not have mattered much anyways.
Then, like some great fog of swirling and obscuring grey mist had at last been lifted, Gwen found herself returned to her body. After several minutes, Gwen came back into being. Looking around as if having been in a deep trace, which she kind of had been, the Goth realized her situation. She was on her knees, kneeling before Duncan, who had the grateful gaze of a successful orgasm beaming at his girlfriend. His cock was still in her tits, quite close to her mouth, as if trying to inch it's way back in there as it deflated. The glistening sticky white cum of her boyfriend covered her bust and face in random patterns of speckles, drops and splatters.
When powers of motion finally returned to her, with her brain requiring a few seconds to start working again at its full potential, Gwen stood and went to clean herself off. Walking away like nothing had ever happened, the sway of her hips as she walked almost completely unconscious. As she used tissue after tissue to remove the cum from her body, she was pleased to see that Duncan didn't want her to lick off the cum in a little show for him as he sometimes did. He was feeling generous today, that or his mind was still just too far blown to think that far thanks to how well she had done. Once the last bit of jizz was in the trashcan, the Goth paid the incident no mind, acting like it had never happened, just as she always did.
She wouldn't have had time to dwell on the titty-fuck, though she wouldn't have anyway because when she returned to their bed she was surprised to feel Duncan's arms enveloping her from behind before pulling her against his chest. She was surprised, but not in a bad way, far from it, in fact! Feeling his flaccid dick nestled between her ass-cheeks, Gwen leaned back into his chiseled chest, letting out a deep moan as he groped her large bust. The feeling of those hands roughly clawing at her cleavage made up for the feeling of his cock pressing against her ass and temporary amnesia brought on by a titty-fuck.
His hands were not only large; they were strong, as were his arms, his legs, and everything else about him. This strength, this power, it was physical, it was readably visible. His hands were hard and covered in calluses. His fingers were like hooks of relentless pleasure as they clawed at her chest without pause, one of the parts of her boyfriend's endless sex drive she had always enjoyed. Sure, she could toy with her tits whenever she wanted to but it was nothing compared to when her boyfriend did it. As much as she usually hated her massive chest at times, she did like that it spurred Duncan on to play with them for long periods of time between their bouts and rounds between the sheets. The main reason she enjoyed it so much was because of his hands and fingers. She loved his hard fingers against her soft jiggling breasts; the contrast between them gave her an almost electric feeling of pleasure. His body was a hardened mass of sensual iron, and it felt so right against her chunkier and softer curves.
A part of her, a small part of her, couldn't help but compare him to Cody, to what she saw that morning just the other day.
To put it simply, there was no comparison. Cody had definitely changed since she last saw him, the scrawny geek having filled out. Duncan, however, already had a full frame to begin with, he didn't 'fill out'; he bulked up. While he wasn't exactly at Justin's level, lacking the twelve pack that defied reality, he was without a doubt the definition of a hunk.
Closing her eyes, Gwen basked in his strength, his powerful arms holding her to him like a prized possession. Occasionally a content moan would escape her lips when he was particularly rough with his pawing and groping. She couldn't help it, she loved this, this feeling he gave her, that enveloped her and surrounded her. The only word she could describe it as was 'safe'. She was safe here, in his arms she knew, she knew that no one could touch her; no one could hurt her, that there was no place on earth she could ever be more protected than where she was.
They had just laid there for a good long while, she in his arms and he holding her to him. It felt like a few wondrous hours. Then the Delinquent's rock-hard body started to shift, and as he did so, he started to gently (though with strength behind his actions) move the Goth's body in a yet undetermined position. Gwen felt her face get a little warm and her loins more than a little wet. After cuddling together for so long and enjoying his ministrations of her sensitive chest, she actually found herself in the mood for sex.
She expected to be flipped on her back, but was shocked to find Duncan positioning her limbs so she was on her hands and knees. Instantly she knew what was going to happen as his hands made quick work of her belt, with one hand slipping down to her shoes and pulling them off while the other worked her pants and panties down, over her wide hips, down her quivering thighs, past her knees, and finally off her person, all the while the hand that had removed her shoes remained firmly planted on the small of her back to keep her in place.
With no preamble or word of warning, Duncan's cock rammed itself into her pussy; one strong hand holding her by the hip while the other toyed and played with her heaving swaying breasts as she was fucked doggy-style.
Gwen didn't like doggy-style, at all, preferring to be able to see him while they fucked, she enjoyed the sight of his sweat slick chest and rock hard abs, the flexing of his arms and twitching of his legs with every thrust. But, it was his favorite, so she didn't complain.
She vaguely remembered how she felt when this kind of shit first started, shortly after her mother had kicked her out of her home at eighteen after a series of very nasty and escalating arguments and fights. Duncan had always been super-horny but usually his requests in bed were reasonable, he would always give as much as he took and she had never been unsatisfied with him sexually. But then, the sexual scales started to tilt mainly in his favor after she moved in with him, as she had nowhere else to go. She had brief wisps of memories about threatening to dump his sorry ass when he started pushing her more and more. At first, she would actively fight against the things she didn't want to do. She remembered her threats to leave him, and the handful of times she actually did leave him. She recalled how she had never made it far though, how she always made her way back to his place and him. After all, she had no money in her own right and pretty much no other contacts or friends, the few she had having abandoned her because they, like her mother, refused to accept Duncan or see him as she knew he truly was, the good in him and how happy he made her. That combined with only a high-school education, few skills outside of art, and a general dislike of people meant she couldn't sustain herself. Duncan provided her with all of her needs; he gave her everything and anything she wanted. Within a week or so she would always come back, and after a particularly hard night romp he would act like it had never happened. He would always take her back, always provide for her, and always protect her no matter what. Under those facts, all of her bravado and swagger and childish defiance had withered. Giving into his demands in bed was the least she could do for him providing her a bed to sleep in, a roof over her head, food in her belly, a friend who actually understood her, and most importantly, someone who truly and genuinely loved her.
Besides, as her pussy was plowed from behind while she stared at the wall of their bedroom, Gwen realized something else.
This was the first time she had actually done anything for him, that he wanted since he went along with her plan for dealing with Heather, the deal that resulted in him sleeping cold and alone, the deal that took her away from him.
Here he was, by himself, alone, after having done nothing wrong, and she was the one complaining and unhappy with him? What right did she have to be upset or annoyed with him, when it was her fault that they were in this mess in the first place?
'I deserve this. I do,' she thought as he continued to pound into her with every ounce of strength he had. He was always looking out for her, protecting her, providing for her, and what really could she offer him in return?
With that in mind, her thoughts once again sank into the deep fog it had emerged from not long ago as once again she pulled up the act and routine she knew he loved so much.
If this meant she was able to make things up to him, then she would be damned if he didn't enjoy every last moment as much as possible.
And that's the next chapter of this story! As always, Kenju and me hope you all enjoyed it. Kenju had a few more words for this closing author's note, and here they are:
"And that brings yet another chapter to a close here. A bit short and skimpy on details, but again we are trying to show things from Gwen's perspective here and fully convey not only her relationship with Duncan but also the kind of person she has become over the years. Also, given how much we both dislike Duncan, writing full fledged lemons with him is...to put lightly, repulsive. Don't worry though, as last chapter showed, the old Gwen is still in there, and she's starting to wake up."
The only thing I'd like to add here is that while we disliked the idea of showing a lemon with Duncan in this story, we both felt it was needed, to show the full nature of their relationship and how Gwen reacts towards it. I'm actually curious to see how you all react to the lemon here because in some ways it was my attempt to make a lemon that was both sexy (because of the actions) and not sexy (because of Gwen's mindset, or lack there of, during said lemon).
Until next time, please read, review, favor, follow, and spread the word!