Non-consensual sex warning.

As her orgasm and subsequent afterglow subsided, she dried herself off in the bathroom, stomach churning. The sex and her climax were wrong, the house was wrong, Lucas was wrong. How could she have let that happen? Why didn't she stop him? She glanced to him as he redressed, seeing his tired, deadened eyes. He scared her like never before. She didn't know what to make of it all, especially not as he took her into his bedroom (which devastated her again when she saw how normal it appeared). He gave her his clothes to wear.

"Gonna throw yer other stuff in the wash," he said, handing her a belt to help keep his pants from falling around her ankles. He reached up and ran a few of his fingers under her chin. "Make yerself at home, beautiful."

And he left her there. Her mind screamed to just leave but that horrible monster awaited her in the halls. Its gnarled, long fingers and gaping, sharp-toothed jaw had been burned into her memory, chilling her to the core. She couldn't leave — she couldn't face that thing. It was hard enough to face Lucas. Or, what appeared to be Lucas.

She didn't want to believe he was Lucas at all. It couldn't have been — he was just another monster. Or he was some lookalike, or this was all a horrific nightmare and she'd wake up at any moment to the sounds of her shitty life in shelters or on the streets. Maybe the whole year had been one big nightmare. Maybe when she awoke, she'd be greeted by a morning message from the real Lucas. That Lucas calling her beautiful made her heart flutter, but this one calling her beautiful dropped a pit in her stomach.

She must've been standing there in shock for quite some time as Lucas… As whoever that was returned, footsteps behind her. Something slipped over her shoulders and a familiar scent wafted over her. She knew without needing to look that it was his hoodie. No, he wasn't Lucas. Her nose simply lied.

"Chilly down here," he said, putting her arms through the sleeves.

Then he held her, chest pressing into her shoulders. He kissed the top of her head, once, twice, then three times until he trailed kisses down to her neck. His hands fervidly groped her breasts, tongue running along her ear.

"Stop," she said firmly.
"Stop? Why?"
She broke away and crossed her arms, back still toward him. "Because I don't want this."
"Ya don't?" He questioned, a hint of frustration in his voice. "Is that why we fucked in the shower?"
She turned to look at him over her shoulder. "That was a mistake."
"A mistake? How could it've been a mistake? You were soaked — ya came. How was that a mistake?"

Being reminded of her complete lack of self-control soured her stomach. Things had been so different in her mind. She would've given anything to go back to her delusions. Under the veil of his sleeves, hoping it would wake her from this nightmare, she pinched herself. It hurt but perhaps not badly enough.

Her quivering voice found some semblance of courage. "I came back here expecting everything to be the same." She pinched her skin between her sharp nails, feeling a warm trickling of blood seep through, and held back the pain in her voice. "But it's not. This house isn't the same, this family isn't the same, YOU'RE not the same!"
"Aw, baby." That condescending tone. The real Lucas would never talk to her like that. His arms held her once again. "I know things're diff'rent right now but I'm still the same ol' Lucas."
"No." She pushed him off and faced him. "You're not. You're not Lucas. Just some-s-some—" She tried to find the words but as they ran through her mind, they sounded unbelievable. "Some fuckin' lookalike pretending to be him!"
His widened eyes looked at her strangely. "The hell are ya talkin' about? How could I not be, Pers?"
"Don't call me that!" A perversion of her nickname — that's what this was; soiled by this impostor. "Lucas would never have abandoned me! He always texted me in the morning, always texted me goodnight. When was the last time I got a call from y—" She stopped. No. Not from him. He wasn't Lucas — he wasn't. "From Lucas."
"I am Lucas."
"No, I don't believe it — you're not! You're not Lucas at all! He never would've taken advantage of me like that!"
It was like the thought never occurred to him — his eyes widened more, jaw dropping, face paling a shade making him look all the more skeletal. "You think I took advantage of you?"
"Are you fucking kidding? You can't expect me to believe you didn't know I was terrified! Lucas would've known — he never would've done that to me!"
"But Pers—"
"STOP CALLING ME THAT!"

She slapped her hands over her ears, trying to get his voice out of her head. That sacred nickname, violated by this other Lucas, by his tongue. She couldn't stand to hear it, not by this impostor with his beautiful voice. Before she arrived, she'd wanted to hear him call her that — it felt so intimate, so right — but not now, not when everything was fucked up.

He snapped, "What do I have t' fuckin' say t' ya t' make ya realize that I am Lucas?"
His tone made her flinch and her heart skipped a beat. She took a step away from him. "Please stop…"
"Why th' fuck are you scared a' me!?"

Maybe because he was acting like a damn psycho. In any other circumstance, she would've gladly said that to his face, but she couldn't even look into his manic, ghostly eyes.

"I dunno what ya want from me, Pers— shut th' fuck up!" He shouted when she put her hands over her ears again.

She hadn't planned on saying anything, she only wanted to block out the sound of her nickname but her silence seemed to piss him off just as well as her words did.

"When y'all first arrived here, I thought we were gonna be together again," he said, chillingly calm. "But now yer tellin' me what we did was a mistake n'— fuckin' look at me!"
Her unblinking eyes slowly made their way to his face, sweat dripping into her brow.
"I can't even call ya 'Pers'. Yer treatin' me like I'm a completely diff'rent person."

Her lack of speech and tiny whimpers drew his brows together as he scowled. His height towered over her. She tucked down into herself, shivering. It was so difficult to look at those eyes. He slammed his fist into the wall beside her, making her jump and whimper again. The evenness of his tone chilled the entire room.

"So now ya think I'm some kinda monster, do ya? All that talk years ago was just a bunch a' bullshit. Sayin' ya weren't scared a' me, ya didn' think I was crazy. Then ya see who I really am n', what? Ya don' love me anymore?"

She swallowed at a lump in her throat. No. She didn't love him. She loved Lucas. But… He was Lucas. She knew it had to be true, but telling him that she loved him... No, she loved who he used to be. Everything about his old self was so beautiful to her, flaws and all; beautiful, innumerable flaws. She loved him dearly. But this Lucas that sent fear throughout her body? No. She didn't love him.

He growled, each word like a snarl that came from his chest. "Answer me."
"Please stop," she pleaded again, voice shaking.
"So you don'… But I still love you."

His fingers ran through her wet hair, gentle against her scalp. But it hurt. It hurt that in moments like this he proved to her who he truly was. She couldn't deny Lucas's touch and her heart pained. The familiarity slowly faded the longer she went without replying. As she said nothing, his brow furrowed and his gaze hardened with narrowed eyes. His frown slowly turned to a sneer in time with her racing heart.

He slammed her against the wall, one hand crushing her shoulder, the other entangling her hair in his fist.

"How could you fuckin' do this to me!? Leadin' me on, then actin' like ya want nothin' t' do with me!"

His grip on her hair tightened, pulling so hard she thought he was going to tear it out. All she could do was quiver before him, eyes stinging with tears as he screamed in her face.

"Betchu been off with other dudes behind my back, too, ya fuckin' whore! All I ever wanted was t' love you, protect you — n' you treat me like I'm a monster!? Fuck you!"

She couldn't handle the screaming; couldn't handle the pain on her scalp from his rough, furious grip; couldn't handle having lost her old Lucas. Tears streamed out. His shaking hands released her and he took a step back as she slid to the ground, losing control over her emotions.

"I'm sorry," he apologized breathlessly, dropping to his knees and trying to hug her. "I'm so sorry, Pers."
She shoved him away, screaming, "Don't touch me! LEAVE ME ALONE!"

She jammed her face in her hands and sobbed loudly, surrounded by his scent as she curled up against the wall, tears caught by the sleeves of his hoodie. It could hide her, hood over her face, so she kept it on, crying and screaming until her head hurt. She could smell unwashed days inside of his hoodie, reminding her of the time they'd spent working on their slingshot project for Physics. Both of them tended to smell after they worked all day. How long had it been since she last thought of that? She wished she could return to those days six years ago. The way he used to be only made her cries louder.

Eventually, once her head pounded and her stomach acidified with sickness, she hiccuped back tears and wiped her nose and eyes on the sleeves. She sniffled, breath uneven, and looked toward Lucas. He was sitting on his bed, hunched over his knees with one hand on his forehead, fingers rubbing his skin. A single leg bounced while the other held his elbow. His grey shirt hung loosely on him. As if he knew she'd been staring, he looked up to her, the dark circles under his eyes shadowing his face.

The shock of seeing him was going to shake her core for the last fucking time. A desperation to hold onto anything of normalcy took control of her. She had to keep some semblance of her sanity, to have something tangible to make sense of things, make things seem real again. Frustration, anger, fear — she didn't know what made her body shudder.

Instinctively, she reached into her pocket to grab her phone — hoping she could distract herself with god-knows-what; she knew it didn't make sense but she didn't care. The loose pocket of his pants held only emptiness. Words formed at the back of her throat and her tongue articulated them before she could keep them in.

"Where's my phone?"
"Y'all don' need t' concern yerself with that."
She repeated herself, slower and more forcefully. "Where is my phone?"
"I put it away fer ya."
"You snooped through my pockets and stole my phone?"
"Situation's a little shaky here — can' have ya doin' somethin' t' compromise it, ya know."
She really didn't know. Nothing made sense to her anymore.
"But I gotta know, Pers: why'd ya come all th' way from Baltimore on a damn whim? Now that yer here, ya want nothin' t' do with me anyway, so why'd ya come in the first place?"

She wiped her irritated eyes. There wasn't a good way to answer that question. She'd come because she wanted to see him. But if she'd known what she'd be coming home to, she never would've made the grueling, anxiety-filled trip.

"Wish I'd stayed in Baltimore."
He stood — reflexively, so did she — and said, "That right? Had a good life without me, did ya?"
"No. But I'd rather be there than here, with those monsters and… All this."

But as the words left her lips and the thoughts escaped the recesses of her brain, she realized that she didn't mean them. Would she really rather be back at Baltimore; homeless, alone, apathetic? Somehow, despite how crazy it seemed, she wouldn't. She wasn't going to tell him that, though. Especially not as he approached her, so close that she could see the faint color of veins across his collarbone and arms.

"Yeah, betcha had yerself a nice stable boyfriend, didn' ya?"
She shook her head, body tensing. "I was never with anyone else."
He moved down to her ear, breath tingling her skin. "I'm 'onna make sure it stays that way."

He grabbed her by the shoulders and threw her into the bed, then pounced on top of her, wildly tearing off the clothes he'd just given her.

"No! Please, stop!" Not again. Dear god, not again.
"Aww," he snickered. "Poor baby."

She shoved his chest but he snatched her wrists and pinned them to the sides, lips attacking hers. Even when she turned her head away, he wasn't deterred, instead kissing, nipping, and sucking her cheek and jaw. He reached over to his bedside table, knee crushing against her chest as he did. When he finished in the drawer, he came back to her, holding a familiar pair of handcuffs with fuzzy, burgundy-colored coatings. He tried to grab for one of her hands and she moved it away. After a brief chase, he clutched it, giggling with excitement as he attached a cuff to her. Then he went for the other hand to much the same resistance as before.

"Pers," he said in a stern facade. He still giggled like it was all a game. "Gimme yer hand."
She couldn't look at him directly, eyes only focused on their hands. "Stop, please."
"Hand. Now."

He wound up pinning it to the bed by her wrist, then tearing her hand over to the other, running the chain through the railings in his bed frame before cuffing her. She yanked at her binds, unable to move her arms more than a few inches. His teeth found her neck and dug into her skin. She squirmed underneath him, mewling pathetically.

"Oww," she whined, teeth clenching. "Please, don't!"

He slapped her naked breast, then his fingers clenched it hard. His mouth moved down, biting her chest and breast until his lips engulfed her nipple, teeth pinching at first, then gnashing. She screamed, legs thrashing but all she could do was beat his back with her heels. It did nothing but get his other hand to constrict her opposite nipple and roll it between his fingers. It burned red hot from the stinging pain, and she writhed and cried beneath him.

He chuckled into her breast, showing her the tiniest bit of mercy by letting her nipples rest from his stimulation. Drool ran down the side of her mouth as she panted. She wasn't mentally prepared for such rough sex, not properly warmed up, and the intense pain addled her mind. If it was this bad with only her nipples, she wasn't sure she could handle much else.

He got off the bed and crouched to reach underneath it. Something scraped along the floor.

"Now, I know yer a fighter," he said, "so let's make this easier on th' both of us, yeah?"

In his hands he held a long bar with a strap on each end. He confined one of her ankles, snatching the other when she tried to kick him away. That ankle was strapped in as well. The spreader bar kept her legs apart, knees unable to buckle enough to close her thighs. With her pussy exposed, he jabbed his fingers inside of her, two at a time digging into her sweet spot. Her hands and teeth clenched.

"Look at this," he grumbled, "y'all don' know what ya want. Pussy's all soaked, n' after the bitchin' you been doin'."

All she could manage to do in response was feebly whimper, "no," at him. He chuckled malevolently, prodding another finger inside her. Then he fucked her with his bony fingers, slamming them inside of her until his knuckles hit skin. She squealed and pulled away from him, cuffs indenting her wrists, but he was never far behind. Soon, her back hit the bed frame, arms bent awkwardly. His fingers dug deeper into her groin as he tore her down by the spreader bar. He licked his lips, eyes upon her like a carnivore about to devour his prey.

"Nervous? Ya should be. 'Cuz my cock is gonna rip you apart."
A chill shot through her. "Pl-please, Lucas. Please stop."
"Huh?" His hand cupped his ear and he brought himself closer. "Yer gonna hafta say that a bit louder 'cuz it sounded like y'all just called me 'Lucas'."
Her breathing shook. "Please, Lucas. Please stop."
He cackled, tearing his fingers out of her, wet hand slapping her ass. "Stop? I don' think so. Ya need t' learn a lesson. Can't have ya forgettin' who ya belong to."

He reached across her and liberated her left wrist from the cuffs that had etched into her skin. Her world flipped when she was shoved onto her stomach, hands then ripped behind her and re-cuffed. Lucas grabbed the chain and forced her arms back hard enough to lift her chest off the bed. His pants unzipped and she felt the head of his cock rubbing into her cunt.

She flailed again. "No! Please don't do this, Lucas! Just let me go!"
His nails sunk into her ass. "Whassa-matter, Pers? Scared I'm 'onna hurt'cha?"

His cock probed its way inside of her. Her panicked mind couldn't think, couldn't react.

He fucked her. Hard.

He stuffed her full, stretched her wide, rubbed her pussy raw as she screamed, toes curling and legs quivering. He laughed at her.

"Fuck yes! You fuckin' feel that, Pers!? Don' you ever forget that yer tight pussy is mine!"

His cackling continued. All she could do was shred her throat by screaming. He was tearing her apart, hurting her just as he mocked that he would. Tears streamed down her face. He slapped her ass, stinging and burning as though it could've broken her skin open.

"Say my name, Pers! Who am I!?"
"Lucas!"
"WHO!?"; Another hard hit to her ass.
"LUCAS!"
"Damn right!"

He released her arms and slammed her chest into the mattress, using her shoulders as leverage to keep fucking her. She could do nothing against him; completely at his mercy, or lack thereof. It went on for far too long, at least it felt that way. With aching pussy and sore body, she pleaded for him to stop, but he didn't relent. He choked her with their necklace's chain, slapped her ass, and randomly bit her neck, shoulders, and back. She couldn't think, couldn't fight, couldn't do more than cry, implore, scream, and feel his relentless assault on her.

She only got her relief when he pulled out and came all over her back, warm strands of cum wetting her skin. Her pussy throbbed and ached alongside each of his murmurs and grunts. Once he was finished, he moved down and pressed his mouth into her cunt, tongue swirling around her surely gaped opening. Then, to her humiliation, he took a long, deep breath through his nose, which he shoved almost completely inside of her, sniffing her wrecked pussy. His fingers sunk into her thighs.

"Oh, fuck yes," he sighed contentedly, smile apparent in his voice. "Mmm, I just can' get enough a' yer pussy."

She tried to move. Every joint had stiffened, every muscle tensed to the point of near immobility. She heaved for breath, limbs failing her as she lay there. Her arms dropped to the sides when he released her wrists from the cuffs. Lucas also allowed her the respite of removing the spreader bar. It clanked carelessly to the floor beside her. He kissed her thighs, up her ass, along her lower back, until he reached the nape of her neck, then he collapsed beside her. His hand caressed her shoulders.

"Tell me again," he said, panting, "who ya belong to, Pers."
Her head turned to him slowly, watery eyes gazing at his content smile, her mind as shattered as her body. "You, Lucas. I… I belong to you…"
"N' don' you forget it."

He drew her close to him and put her face into his chest. With all that had happened and exhaustion overtaking her, she succumbed to an uneasy sleep.