ᴅᴀʀᴋ ʀᴏꜱᴇ ❀ reverie. + koura

[reverie.]

❝ Nathaniel was taunting her, and in the process he was stalling. Hazel did not need more time, nor did she need another cup of juice. What she needed was to pee, and in order to do so she needed him to unchain her, or at least give her the key so she could do it herself. But she was running out of time. She could barely contain her pee, and if he unchained her, there was still a possibility that she wouldn't make it all the way to the toilet before it started pouring. Even after she'd called out a name, he took his sweet time contemplating whether or not to unchain her. If he was waiting for a confession, for her to admit that the name was fake, he'd be disappointed. But he could probably see the fear - and not just for peeing herself - when he threatened her. He might not know it yet, but she knew that name would lead nowhere. She knew he meant every word, and knew that she would have to face the consequences at some point. And yet, she said nothing. But when he threw the key to the floor in front of her, between the bed and the toilet, she let her eyes linger on the key as if to find out if it was worth getting it. Why couldn't he have just unchained her on the bed? Why make it more difficult for her? Why set her up to fail? She tilted her head back, narrowing her gaze at him. "Fuck you." She'd never thought she would hate Nathaniel - the man who had been like a father to her growing up, but he was walking a thin line now. She knew that if she got up, her bladder would burst. Perhaps not all at once, but there would be pee on the floor. And the stain on the bed would probably be visible too. But whether or not she got that key, the pee would flow, so she might as well give it a try. Hazel grimaced as she got to her feet, trying her best to keep her legs pressed together as best as she could. She tightened her core to the best of her ability to prevent pee from leaking out, but she could still feel a stream trailing down her thigh. One arm was still covering her breasts when she crouched down to grab the key off the floor, but she had to use both hands to unlock the collar. She could feel the pee threatening to escape her as she desperately tried to turn the key around. It wouldn't fucking budge. It fit inside the hole it seemed, but she just couldn't get it to turn. She could feel a new warm stream trail down her leg. God no, please stop, she prayed to herself. "It won't open!" she cried in panic, her hands desperately trying to twist the key in the lock without any luck. She turned to look at Nate, her eyes glittering with tears and despair. "It won't open!" It was a cry for help. She'd expected him to rush to her aid, to help her when she obviously was incompetent in opening the lock on her own, but when he didn't move, a new feeling took over. Betrayal. And then it dawned on her - the key wouldn't turn no matter how hard she tried. Because that bastard of a man had given her the wrong key. And by the looks of it, he already knew. He had been taunting her with the wrong key all along, tricking her into giving him a name, a name she was glad was a fake now that she knew it had been nothing more but a game to him. Realizing that she wouldn't make it to the toilet in time - or at all - she sank to her knees as soon as the pee started flowing. She tried to stop it, but it was no fucking use. A large puddle formed underneath her, and she could feel the warm liquid against her bare skin. And it was all Nate's fault. When her bladder was empty, she kept her eyes on the floor, too ashamed to look anywhere else. At least she was no longer in pain, as her body seemed to be able to relax now that her bladder wasn't about to burst. But despite her body being relieved, Hazel was not. She threw the key she had been clutching in her hand in Nate's direction, without turning her head. She just knelt there on the floor, in her own piss, looking at a spot in front of her through blurry eyes. "I hope you rot in hell," she said to him, her tone cold as ice. ​

. H A Z E L W  A  L  K  E  R ​

 

[Koura]

. N A T H A N I E L F  A  U  L  K  N  E  R ​

❝ Nathaniel watched Hazel scramble for the key with a wicked smile on his lips, her despair leaving him feeling a little warm inside. While the old man held little but contempt for the her, he could still remember the bright-eyed child she had once been. Hearing her swear at him only strengthened his resolve. This wasn't the Hazel had seen grow up. This was someone else, an enemy to the very principles that had protected New Jericho for hundreds of years. Her misguided compassion was threat to everyone within the city. "Surely you can pick it up?" he quipped, watching Hazel consider her options. "You didn't expect me to open the lock, did you?" Nathaniel shook his head, wondering where hazel found the conviction to fight him. "You brought this to yourself, Peanut." She had admitted as much, Hazel having taken the blame for her actions. "You are leaking..." the old man mused, tilting his head to the side. Nathaniel wanted Hazel to be keenly aware of his eyes on her. It wasn't enough that she felt humiliated. He wanted her to understand how he enjoyed her misery. How he was willing to play with her. "Are you going to piss yourself?" he asked, his voice dripping with mockery, waiting for Hazel to realize that the key he had throw on the floor didn't actually fit in the lock on her collar. The Father Quaestor had always been a cruel bastard, taking delight in his dour duty. He was the scourge of God, tasked to make His will manifest on earth. "Mhmmh... maybe the lock is just tight?" he offered when Hazel tried to pry herself free, the young woman able to hear sadistic mirth in his voice. The man she had considered her second father enjoyed her misery. "Try again?" Nathaniel suggested, the way he looked at the young woman making it obvious that he was messing with her. That he had never had the intention of letting her relieve herself with any degree of decency. Seeing Hazel eventually lose the control of her bladder, Nathaniel smirked. "Let it all out." he beckoned her, his voice now a little deeper. "Mhmmh. Good girl." Nathaniel praised Hazel as she pissed herself — much the same way as he had done when she had first won a gymnastic championship some twelve years ago. "I'll look up the name you gave to me. If it checks out, I'll see about getting you some clothes. If not..." Nathaniel shrugged, allowing Hazel to imagine what he might do to her. "I'll be back later." he promised her, turning to leave. "You might want to think of another name meanwhile." Nate slammed the door close behind his back, Hazel left kneeling in the pool of her own piss. Pain, humiliation and fear would eventually break the young woman, he knew. It was only question of time. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~​ Few hours after the Father Quaestor had left, two guards barged into her cell, offering her an old bucket and a threadbare cloth. The burly women let the young dissident know that if she wanted to clean her mess, she was free to do so herself. No-one would clean the cell for her. Much to Hazel's relief, they also freed her from the chain that bound her to the wall, warning Hazel that if she misbehaved, they would not hesitate to lock her up again. She was told she was to sit quietly in her cell if she wanted to maintain some dignity. The way the two women spoke among themselves made it rather obvious that they would have rather left her bound like an animal. Eventually the callous guards left, leaving Hazel to her own devices. Time passed, the young woman able to see the shadows slowly move across the wall. She could occasionally hear fragments of chatter from the outside, the voices distant enough to make it impossible to make sense of the words. Afternoon brought cold rains, humidity seeping into the small cell. As the skies eventually grew dark, a bowl filled with thick, cold stew was pushed through the hatch on her door, the young woman soon realizing that she hadn't been provided with any sorts of utensils. If she wanted to eat, she would need to use her hands. Unbeknownst to Hazel, her meager dinner had been laced with potent a mixture of sedatives that would allow her to slip into deep sleep where she knew no pain or fear. ​

 

[reverie.]

❝ She was still recovering from the humiliation long after Nathaniel left her cell. She didn't move from the floor in what felt like forever, sitting there in her own piss until it was as cold as the floor. Eventually, she'd gotten up only to lie down on the bed, not giving a single fuck whether or not she stained the mattress. She didn't say anything to the guards that came with cleaning supplies. She didn't even thank them for taking off the collar and removing the chain. Hazel cleaned up her own mess in silence, the feeling of betrayal only growing inside of her. She still couldn't believe that Nate had changed so much since the last time she saw him. When did he become a monster? At some point, she'd felt loved, but now? He couldn't possibly care about her. The Nate she knew, the one who had been like a father to her, was long gone. She wondered what Lily would say. . . if she knew what he was doing. If she knew he was hurting her. And for what? For smuggling some items out of the City. It was ludicrous. And yet, Nathaniel's words lingered in the back of her mind. Mason had approached her after she first got a job at the customs, ushering her to apply for a transfer when it opened. But at the same time, he was such a good boyfriend - it just didn't make any sense. And the others, they all treated her like she was family. Nate was probably lying, it was the only logical explanation. He had to. The others were probably out there trying to come up with a way to free her. Perhaps she could join Xadrian on the outside. Surely, he would be able to keep her safe - alive. Hours passed and she was growing more hungry by the minute. By the time her stomach was growling she tried to carefully ask a passing guard if dinner was delayed, but he didn't answer her. She couldn't blame him - Nate had probably ordered them all not to speak with her, let alone answer her questions. Perhaps this was another punishment. . . If he'd run that name through the database, he'd know by now that the poor guy had nothing to do with their operation. Hazel had half expected Nate to show up when he found out. Maybe she'd got lucky, maybe they'd recruited him now that she was gone. It didn't seem likely, but why else would Nate leave her alone? Her answer came with her delayed dinner. She glared at the bowl, snorting to herself. Fuck you, Nathaniel, she thought. No spoon, no fork, no knife, no glass of water, no nothing. He was getting really creative with her punishments, she'd give him that. Fucking bastard. Taking the plates with her, she sat down on the bed with the plate in her lap. Scooping up some stew with two fingers only to realize it was cold made her lips curl into a disbelieving smile. Her stomach growled again, and she put the food in her mouth, licking it off her fingers. If Nathaniel thought he could starve her into submission, he was wrong. So. Very. Wrong. If he wanted to serve her cold food, then so be it. She'd eat it anyway. If he wanted her to eat it with her fucking hands, then she would eat it with her fucking hands. She was not going to let him break her. After she'd emptied the bowl of cold stew and placed it on the small desk on the other side of the bed, she half-sat on her bed, leaning against the wall, trying to come up with a way to get herself out of this mess. Nathaniel would find out that she'd given him a fake name, but then again, he had given her a fake key. They were even. But when her eyelids were getting heavy and she was having a hard time focusing her gaze, she knew something wasn't right. It wasn't that late. She glanced over at the empty bowl and hissed. No. He wouldn't fucking do that. Scrambling to her feet, she grabbed the plate with one hand, leaning against the desk with the other. "Fuck you!" she yelled, throwing the empty bowl at the door. "Fuck. You!" It was obvious who she was cursing. She knew who was behind this. She just knew. Hazel was fighting to stay awake, her vision clouded with black dots. She staggered back, hoping to reach the bed before her body succumbed to the darkness. *      *      *      *      *      *​ When Hazel woke up, her body ached and she was feeling groggy. At first, she thought there was something wrong with her vision, but then she realized she had to be surrounded by darkness. But the dark was the least of her worries. Panic slowly started to kick in as she realized she was strapped to a fucking chair - or at least something that seemed like a chair. She was still naked it felt like, and her legs were spread and strapped to something; as were her arms - and her neck. . . There was something around her neck that kept her locked in place, something tight. She tried to break free, tugging at the straps holding her arms and legs only to find it impossible. No, no, no, no. Tears welled up in her eyes as realization hit her - she was stuck. She desperately tried to break free and winced in pain as the straps dug into her flesh. It was fucking useless. The straps didn't budge. And yet she kept trying, kept hurting herself until she heard footsteps in the distance. That made her body go completely still. She held her breath, afraid that someone - or something - would jump at her any second. ​

. H A Z E L W  A  L  K  E  R ​

 

[Koura]

. N A T H A N I E L F  A  U  L  K  N  E  R ​

❝ In some ways, Nathaniel had always been a monster. A man who divided the world into neat compartments Everyone and everything had a proper place in his mind. There were the godly people and then there were the wicked and the foul. It was a simple, yet comfortable way to view the world. A bulwark against doubt and disbelief. Hazel had once belonged to the little compartment containing all the people dear to him, that particular box nested within the compartment that housed all the devout men and women he knew. His friends and colleagues. Having seen the evidence against the woman, he had simply moved her from one compartment to another, any affection and loyalty he might have once held evaporating like mist at dawn. With Hazel now irrevocably alien to him, Nathaniel could justify hurting her. Tormenting her. Breaking her. He had felt no remorse in ordering the guards to bring the young woman to the interrogation chamber. A room containing all the tools necessary to pry a confession from a sinner. Stirring into consciousness, Hazel could hear steps behind her, someone heavy built walking closer, his boots clanking against the steel floor. A moment passed, then two. Hazel was bathed in a dim, pale light, the only lamp in the room dangling above her head. She could not see the walls of the room, darkness surrounding the chair the young woman was bound to. Still, she could smell a familiar scent of cologne. The scent she had once associated with strong, warm arms. The young woman could hear Nathaniel breathe in the otherwise quiet chamber, close as he stood. The old man touched her shoulder, his nails digging into her bare skin. "Peanut..." a familiar voice called out, Nathaniel's voice sharp. "Do you know where you are?" he asked her, his fingers trailing the side of her neck, his nails scraping her skin. "The Crucible is different for everyone." Allowing Hazel to guess what that might mean he ran his hand down on her chest, grasping one of her breasts and giving it a firm squeeze. "Not everyone leaves..." Long probing fingers circled her nipple, the old man ignoring whatever protests she might have had. Bound tight, there was precious little Hazel could do. "And those who leave are never the same..." His deep baritone voice rang with pious conviction. Nathaniel was a man with a sacred purpose. He wasn't going to let anything or anyone to get in his way. To make a point, he pinched her hard, refusing to let go. Reaching for his zipper, he walked in front of the bound woman, slowly pulling out his half-erect cock for Hazel to see. The young woman could see him smile. He had drank a large bottle of sweetened tea while waiting for Hazel to come to her senses and now felt a rather pressing urge to relieve himself. "See girl.. ah.. you are filth." Nathaniel proclaimed even as he began to urinate, a stream of piss falling on the ground between her legs. "Nothing but filth..." Holding his cock, he took a step closer and shamelessly pissing on Hazel, the warm fluid splattering against her exposed thigh. Adjusting his aim so that the stream hit her pussy, Nate proceeded to empty his bladder on her, groaning happily as he did so. "Feels... so good." The old man told her with a wry smile on his lips. When the stream eventually died, Hazel found herself sitting in a small puddle of warm urine, her pussy wet with fresh piss. Having relieved himself, Nathaniel tugged his cock back into his pants, grinning as he pulled up the zipper. Contempt burned in his dark eyes, righteous fury burning in his belly. He could remember how he had come to crave for her. How he had stolen her panties and used them to masturbate. Now she was his. Turning his back on Hazel, Nathaniel stepped into the shadows once more, the poor young woman able to hear him rummaging through drawers. Having found what he was seeking, the old man bid his time, standing quietly in the darkness. "The sooner you confess, the sooner it's over." He told Hazel, slowly walking around the chair. "You can end this anytime. All you have to do..." He stepped out of the darkness holding a wicked short cane in his arms. "... is to tell me who Mason works for." Giving Hazel no warning, he struck her hard, old rattan biting into her thigh and drawing blood. Smacking his lips as he heard the young woman cry out, he struck again, feeling warm inside as he watched her squirm on the makeshift seat. "How is it?" Nathaniel asked, pressing the tip of the cane against her knee, slowly dragging the tip along her thigh. "You think you can talk?" Nathaniel had his doubts, but allowed Hazel a singular chance for old time's sake even as he poked his cane against her pussy, pulling it back ever so slightly, making sure she'd know where the next blow would land. ​

 

[reverie.]

❝ Hazel's eyes adjusted to the dim light - not that it helped much. She could still not see her tormentor, but she recognized their scent. No one else she knew smelled like that. And considering recent events, it shouldn't surprise her that it was Nathaniel who approached her. But why he didn't attempt to help her was still a mystery. He could see that she was bound from head to toe, could he not? But as she felt his fingers digging into her shoulder and heard her old nickname slipping through his lips, she knew. Nate had no intentions of freeing her. No, his next words confirmed that. In fact, it wouldn't surprise her if he had been the one strapping her to that thing in the first place. She felt his fingers trail down the side of her neck, and despite how much she wanted to pull away, her head was locked in place. The collar gnawed at her throat, the metal making her aware of every single breath, every swallow. Hazel's breaths were shallow, and not only because it was difficult to take deep breaths. She was still panicking - even more so now that Nate was there, taunting her. Because Hazel did not know where she was, nor did she really know why. Was this an attempt to make her talk? Or to punish her for the crimes she had already committed? Whatever it was, Nate didn't exactly make it sound tempting. Her body fought against the restraints, her panic growing intensely as his hand traveled down her chest. "Nate, stop," she pleaded as his hand found its way to her breasts. She winced when he squeezed it. "Nngh, please." But that grimace disappeared as quickly as it came because as his fingers began to circle her nipple, it didn't exactly hurt anymore - quite the opposite. Her nipples were already hard from the air circling them, but his touch didn't exactly make them less hard. "Please just -" The words got stuck in her throat as he walked around her. Her eyes were glued to him, filled with fear and panic. She didn't really want to see his cock, but it was hard to avoid it when he pulled it out right in front of her. For a second she thought he was going to force himself on her, but then she saw the stream of piss and she realized he was just proving a point. He was relaxed, she was not. But when she felt the warm stream hitting her thigh, she knew that wasn't the main reason he was urinating in front of her. No, he was trying to humiliate her even further, proving to her that she was, indeed, nothing but filth. Hazel squirmed in her seat - or trying to, at least. When she felt the warm stream against her pussy, she refused to stay quiet any longer. "Nate, stop," she repeated, only this time a little louder. "Please." She looked at his smug face. There was no doubt he was enjoying himself. That fucking bastard. Hazel was now sitting in a puddle of piss. It had been warm to start with, but now it was getting cold and uncomfortable. Just like her pussy. She didn't know if she should be worried or grateful that he turned his back on her, but when she heard him rummaging through something, she knew it was the former. Her eyes landed on him as he emerged from the darkness and widened when she saw the cane he was holding. She swallowed hard, her stomach twisting as she tried to imagine what he was going to do with it. Her body went still. "Nate," she said firmly, but it was still a plea. "I swear to G - ahhhh!" Her body jerked at the excruciating pain surging through her thigh, making her thrash involuntarily against the straps keeping her in place. The collar would without a doubt leave bruises on her neck. He gave her no warning nor any time to collect herself before he struck again. Another scream filled the room as her body thrashed against the restraints once again, tears already rolling down her cheeks. She was panting by the time Nate spoke to her. As if he hadn't just made her scream her heart out. Her thigh felt numb, throbbing with pain. The collar allowed her to look down at the bloody mess he had made. A loud sob escaped her lips as she felt him drag the tip of the can along her thigh. She prayed he wouldn't use it again. He hadn't even given her two seconds to answer his question, which she didn't even know the answer to. "I don't know," she said honestly, her voice raspy from screaming, if not from the collar digging into her vocal cords. "He never told me - I swear." She looked at him through blurry eyes, pleading for mercy. "Please. . you can't do this." She drew in a short breath, before adding quietly, "Lily will never forgive you." But more importantly, Hazel would never forgive him. ​

. H A Z E L W  A  L  K  E  R ​

 

[Koura]

. N A T H A N I E L F  A  U  L  K  N  E  R ​

❝ "I am not stopping," he told her, his tone somber, Nate talking to Hazel as if she was a penitent kneeling at a confessional. "Not until you confess everything," the old man murmured, his hand lingering on her jaw, his fingers brushing against her lips. Lips he wanted to claim as his own. "Every single thing." Feeling her nipples harden between his fingers, the old man smirked. Humans were so simple. Proud as Hazel might have been, she was inevitably a slave to her body. No one could reason with pain forever. Eventually, the young woman would crack. It was merely a matter of time. "There's no escape," he assured her, resting his hand on her shoulder, his calloused fingers warm against her skin. The young woman could perhaps remember Nate pressing his hand on her shoulder in a similar manner many years ago when he had consoled her after she had failed to make it to the second round during her first gymnastic competition. "There's no salvation. Not for your kind, Peanut." "You better be careful what you swear," Nate huffed as he watched Hazel squirm with pain. "God sees your sins," he proclaimed with the conviction of a man who had never paused to think of his motives. God stood by his side and guided his arms. Nathaniel could feel the sacred flames burn in his chest. He was God's will made manifest, His Word in Flesh. The young girl he had loved was nothing but a worthless sinner. "He sees you," the old man murmured, idly stroking his length through his pants as he watched Hazel squirm in pain. Her screams made him so very hard. He ached to have her, yet Nate knew his pleasure would have to wait. "You think Mason cared about you?" He kept sowing the seeds of doubt in her mind, knowing that her desperation might allow his words to take root. "You were just a hole for his prick. Just like Rose," Nathaniel named one of Mason's friends. The internal security was rather certain that Mason didn't actually bed Rose. Hazel didn't need to know that, however. "He was away an awful lot, wasn't he," the old man asked, stepping a little closer, the tip of his cane pressing into her thigh. "I wonder what he told you. Did he say he was busy on the other side of the wall?" Hazel could see her captor smirking. "Helping the innocent?" "You don't know?" Nate scoffed, flicking his wrist and striking her nub. He had no mercy for her. "I don't believe you," the old man sighed, shaking his head. He wanted the young rebel to spill everything she knew. "I told Lily you are dead." It was a lie, Nathaniel never discussed his work with his daughter. Lily did not need to know about the evils of the world. It was his solemn duty to keep her and everyone else in New Jericho safe. Nathaniel struck her again, laughing softly as her tears fell. He was the scourge of God and she would learn to fear him. Letting the rattan cane fall on the floor, he stepped closer to the naked woman, pressing his palm on her knee. "You remember the swimsuit you lost?" Nate ran his hand along her thigh, his touch soft and tender. "I took it. I wanted to fuck your little pussy so bad," he admitted, his fingers reaching to stroke her exposed folds. Allowing Hazel little time to process his words, Nate began to stroke her clit, hunger flickering in his dark eyes. ​

 

[reverie.]

❝ At this point, she wished she knew something. Anything. She'd confess it all if it meant escape from this nightmare. But unfortunately for Hazel, she only knew a fraction - if that - of what was going on. "There is nothing to confess!" she yelled, almost frantically as the throbbing in her thigh never ceased to stop. It felt like it might fall off any second. "Nate, I swear, they didn't tell me anything." She met his eyes with her tear-filled ones. "Please, don't do this." Hazel had cried in front of him many times, but this was different. He had never made her cry before- never hurt her. Well, not until recently at least. She still couldn't understand how he had the conscience to. The last time she saw him, he treated her like a daughter. And he would never do this to Lily. Not even if she was guilty. So why did this seem so fucking easy to him? And all this talk about God. . . If God truly saw her, He sure as hell saw Nate, and she refused to believe that He was okay with this. But then he started talking about Mason - "That's not true," she hissed, not really believing her own words. Because no matter how hard she tried to hide it, his words hit her like a punch to the face. She didn't want to believe it, but everything he said made sense. He had been away a lot, using all sorts of excuses or telling her that it was better if she didn't know. "You don't know him," she said matter-of-factly. But neither did she, obviously. Hazel knew where the next blow would land, should he decide to strike her - but never in a million years did she believe he actually would. The tip of the cane hit her clit with such force the pain rippled through her body, a loud scream echoing against the invisible walls. But somehow it wasn't the blow that hurt her the most, but his next words. I told Lily you are dead. The heartbreaking sob that escaped her lips after he struck her again was not only due to the pain he was inflicting. She was heaving for air, her restraints not allowing her to comfort her body the way she needed to. "Please," she sobbed, trying to free her wrists from the restraints. This was insane - he was insane. It had to end. And when he let the cane fall to the ground, she thought it had. Relief shone in her eyes for a split second before his palm found her knee. She took a deep breath, her gaze following his hand until it disappeared from her vision. The collar dug into her flesh as she desperately tried to tilt her head down to see where his hand was going - as if she couldn't feel it. "Nathaniel, stop," she begged quietly. His hand was dangerously close to her pussy. What he said only made her squirm more in her seat. She'd lost that swimsuit years ago. "Nate, please," she pleaded, a faint sob escaping her lips as she felt his fingers eventually reached her folds. Her body writhed when his finger found her sensitive nub and a soft whimper involuntarily slipped past her parted lips. When her eyes met his, hers were filled with pure terror. What he was doing didn't hurt at all, and yet it scared her more than the cane had done. He did not have the right to touch her. He shouldn't touch her. Not there. "Stop," she whispered, her breathing shallow. He had to stop. She needed him to stop. But then there was also this voice in her head telling her she should be grateful that he wasn't inflicting any more pain. But somehow, pleasure was worse. ​

. H A Z E L W  A  L  K  E  R ​

 

[Koura]

. N A T H A N I E L F  A  U  L  K  N  E  R ​

❝ "That's what you'd want me to believe," Nathaniel shook his head, his expression stern. Hazel could tell he thought she was lying. It seemed as if Nathaniel and his people truly believed that she knew more than she had already admitted. "Wouldn't you?" he scoffed, his voice dripping with anger. Her words meant nothing. "You've forsaken your oaths, Peanut. How do you expect me to believe you?" he asked her, tilting his head to the side even as he pulled his hand back, making a point of licking his fingers clean. "Now you cry," Nathaniel cooed, his voice dripping with mockery. "Perhaps you should have thought twice before letting a fucking renegade in your bed," He felt annoyed that someone like Mason had gotten his filthy hands on Hazel before him. Jealousy festered in his heart, Nate tasting bile in his mouth. She ought to have been his. "I don't know him, blah blah fucking blah," Nathaniel shook his head, reaching to rest his hand on her thigh, his dark eyes seeking out hers. "Peanut. I've listened to his phone for hours. Read hundreds of messages he's sent. You think I don't know him?" He squeezed her leg, his fingers pressing into the soft, scarred flesh. "You have any idea how many times he took a picture of his little prick and sent it to Rose?" Huffing, Nate slid his hand closer to her pussy. "And how many times she sent something back?" In reality, he wasn't certain that Mason had been bedding Rose. There hadn't been any such images. Mason had been careful. Not that Hazel needed to know that. He wanted the young woman to believe that her lover had been using her. Make her feel she had been used. Hearing her plead only brought a smile to his lips. Now that he had her in his hands, he would not hold back nor give her respite. Nathaniel was determined to break her very spirit. "No," Nathaniel told the young woman. "I won't." His long, calloused fingers would keep slowly massaging her folds, the old man taking his time with her. He made note of every time she gasped, his fingers never leaving her nub. Bound down, there was precious little Hazel could do to avoid his touch, the restraints keeping her firmly in place. "We are going to have fun, you and I," easing his fingers between her folds, he circled her entrance for a moment, imagining how tight her little pussy would feel. Nathaniel had long ached to get his hand on her. Even after eight long years, he still wanted her. "You have no idea how badly I wanted to fuck you back when we went camping," the Quaestor confessed, reminding Hazel of the week she had spent with Lily and father at a cabin by the lake Mercy. The two girls, sixteen both, had spent days lounging in the outdoor jacuzzi, giggling without a worry in the world. The weather had been unusually warm. Everyone had had good time. "Drag you to my room. Press you against the wall and pull your cute little panties down." His eyes gleamed with unabashed hunger, the front of his pants bulging. "Make you mine." She still made him so very hard. Leaning closer, the old man pecked a gentle kiss on Hazel's cheek. With Nate so close, she was able to smell his cologne. A scent she had once associated with a kind man. "God be my witness," the young woman could hear him smirk, his voice trembling ever so slightly. "I am going to fuck your brains out, Peanut," he growled with hunger, his lips brushing against her ear. "And then I am going to make you confess everything." His long, dextrous fingers sought out her clit once more, the old man gently masturbating the young woman. Her moans and whimpers only seemed to encourage him, Nathaniel kneading her nub faster and faster. ​