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Ruined By Reality
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2025-06-17 19:22:42She was strung up like a sacrifice—wrists bound tight with leather cuffs to the iron hook above, eyes blindfolded with black silk, her naked body on full trembling display for him. The room stank of sex, sweat, fear.
Kane stood in front of her, dark and unmoving, a flogger hanging from his hand. The leather strips kissed the ground, waiting.
Her nipples were clamped viciously, red and swollen around the metal, the connecting chain tugging with every tremor of her body. Her thighs glistened with slick. Her cheeks were streaked with tears and sweat. And still, she was fucking gorgeous.
He stepped close, his feet heavy against the floor. She whimpered when he grabbed her jaw roughly, forcing her to meet his cold eyes.
"You’ll take everything I give you, Castelle. You’ll scream, you’ll cry, you’ll fucking thank me for it."
She shook her head weakly, and he just laughed—a cruel, broken sound.
He stepped back, drew his arm back—and crack.
The flogger struck across her breasts, the clamps jerking painfully.
A strangled sob broke from her throat.
Another strike.
Then another.
He lashed her five brutal times across her tits, watching her body twist and writhe, sweat beading on her skin, her mouth open in a silent scream.
He didn’t stop there.
He moved lower, flogging her stomach, her hips, the tender insides of her thighs—ten, fifteen times until her body was shaking like a leaf in a storm, covered in angry red welts.
"Count," he ordered, striking again.
"O-one," she choked out.
"Good girl," he sneered, giving her two more lashes across her inner thighs, so close to her dripping cunt she jerked violently.
When he was satisfied with the marks, he dropped the flogger and grabbed a small vibrator, switching it on with a low, menacing buzz.
Her eyes widened. She shook her head.
"No? You don't get to say no," he growled, fisting her hair and shoving the vibrator violently against her clit.
She screamed.
Her body jolted, hips thrashing wildly, but he kept it there, relentless. She was soaking wet, her juices dripping down her thighs, humiliating and raw.
He worked her to the edge once—twice—three times.
Every time she was about to break, about to fall over into pleasure, he ripped it away.
She sobbed, tears falling freely, her cunt clenching helplessly in the air.
"Please," she gasped, voice raw. "Please, Master Kane... let me.....let me come."
He grabbed her by the throat—not tight, just a warning—and stared into her broken, beautiful face.
"You'll come when I say," he hissed. "Not before. Never before."
He edged her five times before he showed mercy.
On the sixth time, he shoved two fingers into her dripping cunt without warning, curling them cruelly, while slamming the vibrator against her clit.
She broke apart with a raw, animalistic scream, body spasming helplessly in the cuffs.
Her orgasm was violent. Her slick gushed over his hand, soaking his wrist and forearm, dripping to the floor.
Kane groaned darkly, stepping back to admire the wreckage.
But he wasn’t done.
He freed his cock from his pants—thick, angry, dripping—and fisted it lazily as he looked at her wrecked body.
Still trembling. Still crying.
He stroked himself slowly, imagining bending her over and slamming into her bruised, used body, fucking her until she couldn’t walk, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe without remembering him.
He didn’t fuck her in the dream—but not because he didn’t want to.
Because the next time, he would fuck her awake. Make her beg to be ruined.
-------
Kane jolted awake with a growl, his cock rock-hard and leaking against his stomach.
He shoved the covers off, storming into the bathroom, switching the shower to ice-cold.
Didn’t fucking matter.
He braced his hand against the wall and wrapped the other around his cock, pumping it viciously. In his mind, it was her mouth on him—those broken lips wrapped around his length, tears sliding down her cheeks as she gagged and drooled all over him.
"Castelle," he snarled, hips jerking, cock throbbing in his fist.
One, two more brutal strokes—and he came hard with a hoarse shout, shooting his release against the tile.
His body slumped forward, panting.
Still, it wasn’t enough.
He needed her for real.
He needed to bend her to his will, to fucking own her until she didn’t even remember her own name.
---
Kane didn’t bother cleaning up properly. He wiped his cock with the towel, tossed it aside, and yanked on a pair of loose sweatpants. His skin still burned, his muscles tight from the dream.
It wasn’t fucking enough.
His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides as he stalked out of the bathroom, his bare feet silent against the polished floorboards.
The house was dead quiet. Everyone knew better than to roam this part of the estate at night.
Good. He was not in the fucking mood to explain himself.
He pushed open the heavy double doors to his bedroom, and there she was—
Castelle.
Sleeping like some wounded animal, curled up small on his massive bed, in one of his dark shirts that barely covered her up, this was pure torture. The swell of her breast peeking out and her nipples—he reached out his fingers and grazed the nipples and the reaction made him happy. They stood upright like they knew who they were for—Master Kane.
His throat worked painfully.
The shirt barely covered her thighs. Her bare legs were exposed, bruised and tender. Her wrists still bore faint red marks from the rope ties Kareen mentioned to him earlier. Her hair was a messy halo around her face. Her mouth was slightly open, soft whimpers spilling from her even in sleep.
She was so fucking breakable.
So his.
He leaned back from the bed like a predator, looming over her, watching the steady rise and fall of her battered chest. His hands itched — fuck, they itched — to reach for the drawer beside the bed, pull out the leather cuffs he kept there, and shackle her wrists to the iron headboard.
To chain her there.
Make her truly belong to him. Keep her forever.
No escape. No running. No more fucking fear.
Just her, naked and bound, waiting for whatever dark mercy he decided to give.
He exhaled slowly, raggedly, forcing himself to back away.
He couldn’t.
Not like this.
Not when she hadn’t given herself willingly yet.
But one day — soon — she would.
He wasn’t going to ask.
He wasn’t going to plead.
He was going to take.
Castelle stirred in her sleep, a faint whimper escaping her lips.
Kane's hands fisted by his sides again, fighting the savage need to climb into that bed, shove her onto her back, and teach her who the fuck she belonged to.
Instead, he turned on his heel and stormed back out, slamming the door behind him slightly.
Downstairs, he poured himself another glass of whiskey, the liquid sloshing violently over the rim.
He needed a fucking plan.
Because Castelle wasn’t just a pretty, broken thing anymore.
She was his addiction, His fucking obsession.
And he needed to own her, and that too, very fast
---
Último capítulo
Tainted Desires; Demons. Darkness. Damnation The Devil asks Permission to Burn
Leo’s Room – Four Days LaterThe mansion had gone still. Not quiet—still.The kind of stillness that comes before a storm breaks bones.No one dared disturb Kane. Not even to breathe near him.He hadn’t left Leo’s side in four days. Not to eat. Not to sleep. Not even to scream.Lucien and Matteo handled all external affairs. One glance from Kane had been enough:“Keep them alive.”The implication: Until I decide who burns first.They all knew it—Delilah had crossed a line only Leo could pull Kane back from.She was banking on one thing to stay safe—Leo’s mercy.Because Kane would raze the world, but never against Leo’s will.She was hiding behind Leo’s heart.And Kane hated that heart had once loved her.Castelle had done what she could.She offered tea, back rubs, warm baths. She wrapped Kane in her arms when the pain made him tremble, he sought release between her thighs because nothing else soothed him.But it was only her. Only Kane in Castelle’s arms that gave
Tainted Desires; Demons. Darkness. Damnation The Hidden Truths that the Devil Always Remembers
Meanwhile in Leo’s RoomThe machines hummed low.IV fluid dripped with sterile rhythm.Leo’s body lay still—limp, quiet—but something deep within him stirred.His breathing hitched.Brows creased faintly.And then, in a voice so soft it could’ve been the air itself, his lips parted around a single name.“Rem…”A tear slipped from the corner of his closed eye, trailing a silver path down his pale cheek.Even in unconsciousness… he remembered.The man.The only one—other than Kane—who had ever made him feel truly seen. Truly wanted.Remile.That was the name Leo knew him by. A shadow of a man who held him through sleepless nights. Who whispered promises against his skin. Who kissed him with a reverence Leo had never known.The man who touched his scars like they weren’t flaws.The one who looked into him and didn’t flinch.Remile had seen through the mask. Past the pain. Into the trembling core of Leo’s heart—the part that begged to be loved.And
Tainted Desires; Demons. Darkness. Damnation A Thorn and Poison Love
The machines beeped steadily in the background, Leo’s body still motionless, save for the subtle rise and fall of his chest. Kane stood like a statue, arms crossed, eyes fixed on Leo—haunted.He ran a hand through his thick hair, fingers curling at the roots like he wanted to rip something apart. His jaw was tight, a vein ticking at his temple.The door creaked open behind him.Lucien and Matteo stepped in quietly.Kane didn’t flinch.He didn’t have to look to know who they were.Only when he sensed their pause did he finally turn.His eyes were dark. Hollowed. Wild.“How’s my Queen?” he asked hoarsely.Lucien gave a soft nod. “She’s curled up in my bed. With Lyra and Mason. She misses you, but… she’s okay. She’s safe.”Kane’s fist clenched. The sound of his knuckles cracking echoed through the room.Without warning, he turned and punched the wall.Hard.The plaster cracked under the force, his knuckles splitting open.“Check the fucking CCTV,” he barked, his
Tainted Desires; Demons. Darkness. Damnation Blood on the Floor and Night Tremors
The room was still. The warmth of their bodies tangled beneath the duvet. Kane’s breathing had evened out, his arm draped protectively over Castelle, who lay nestled against his chest, heart steady for the first time in days.But then—A scream tore through the silence. Shrill. Gut-wrenching. Kareen.Kane was up before she could blink.Castelle barely had time to grab the sheet and clutch it to her chest before he was at the door, yanking on his trousers with shaking hands. She followed quickly, dragging on the nearest robe as her heartbeat thundered in her ears.Down the hall, doors opened. Footsteps echoed. Shouts filled the once-quiet corridors.Another scream—“HELP! KANE!” Kareen’s voice cracked like glass.They burst into Leo’s room at the same time as Lucien and Matteo, Kareen crouched on the floor, sobbing violently over something—someone.Leo.He was slumped at the foot of the bed, his wrist split open in a jagged line. Blood pooled beneath his limp
Tainted Desires; Demons. Darkness. Damnation Lost in Warmth
The night had swallowed the estate whole.In the quiet stillness of Kane’s private quarters, the outside world no longer existed. Just the weight of the silence, the warmth beneath the duvet, and two souls learning how to breathe again.Castelle lay curled into Kane, their bare skin pressed together under the soft cocoon of covers. His arm wrapped around her like a shield—solid, unmoving, safe. His breath kissed the top of her head with every exhale, while his hand stroked her back in slow, calming circles.“I used to think I wasn’t meant to be loved,” she whispered into the silence, her voice raw. “Before you, they never saw me. Just used me. Rooms I couldn’t escape. Shadows that smelled like liquor. I wasn’t a person—I was a body.”Kane didn’t speak.He only held her tighter, his hand pausing at the base of her spine, grounding her.“I thought I was broken,” she continued, chest tightening. “Especially after my ex-husband came back. I had finally started stitchi
Tainted Desires; Demons. Darkness. Damnation Boundaries and Balm with Dungeon Reckoning
Mason lay curled on his side, tangled in the sheets like a sulking cat, the morning light revealing every scratch, welt, and love-bite that marked his skin like tattoo.Matteo stood by the window, buttoning his black shirt, the weight of the day’s mission already pressing against his shoulders. But it was Mason’s quiet huff behind him that made him pause.“You’re not allowed to see Castelle,” Matteo said finally, turning.Mason groaned. “Kane’s orders?”Matteo nodded. “Part of the punishment. No contact. No chaos.”“But I didn't even touch her! Just helped Lyra tie her up,” Mason whined dramatically, rolling onto his back with a wince. “God, my ass still hurts. You Wrecked me.”“And you loved it,” Matteo said dryly, though the faintest smile tugged at his mouth.Mason pouted. “That’s not the point. I look like I lost a fight with a wolf.”Matteo walked over, crouching by the bed. His fingers brushed over a bruised hip, then a scratch on Mason’s side. “You didn’t
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