Work Text:
Titus Danforth, or Mr. Danforth as you called him to his face, slammed the front door to his home. He was on the phone as you finished prepping his dinner. You’d like to say you didn’t eavesdrop, but, let’s face it, you weren’t that good of a person. Your boss was a slight obsession for you. Handsome and rich, sure, but it was his weird personality that really drew you in. Random snarky one liners, weird mysterious family reunions that most staff were not allowed to attend, and the staring. God, he stared at you.
Instead of chopping the carrots, you switched to slicing onions. Much quieter, better for you to hear what Titus was railing on about. You were in the kitchen, while he was still in the foyer, so it wasn’t easy. One sentence, heard clearly.
“Dad, I don’t want an heir,” his voice rose before fading back to that indecipherable hum.
After another moment, you heard the clatter of a tossed phone, and a curse. He stormed into the kitchen, clad in a dark coat and that infuriately stony expression he always wore around you. “Were you..listening to me, chef?” The menacing voice combined with that dead-eyed expression quickly cowed you.
You shook your head. He gave you that small, fake smile that never reached his eyes. “My cousin, that brat Alex, is getting married. For some reason, Father has gotten it into his head that Ursula or I need to “catch up” or whatever the fuck he said.”
Pausing your slicing, you stared at him. He rarely speaks to you. Normally he comes in, stares for a while, and you tell him when dinner is ready. Sometimes he eats while you clean, sometimes he demands you leave. This was abnormal behavior, even for the man who once told you to “kindly get the fuck out.” Chewing on your lip, you considered what to say.
“And that’s a problem because…you both are single.” You stated, eyes examining his face. One of his eyes twitched slightly, and his posture, already impeccable, somehow straightens more.
“You wouldn’t understand.” His voice was tight. You knew his family (extended and immediate) didn’t really see the lower classes as human. Or maybe it was an overall disrespect for human beings in general. They were always cold about the alarmingly frequent deaths on the family. His gaze was shuttered again, as though he felt he’d made a mistake letting you in. Just that brief glimpse under the surface.
You hummed, turning to wash the scent of onions off your fingers. You had a little slice of lemon left on the cutting board for this purpose. Wash, rub the juice on your fingers, and wash again. Maybe there were better ways to get the smell off, but you like the routine of this. You felt Titus staring at you. He always did. He could sneer at you all he liked, but his gaze on your hips, on your breasts, on your lips? There was no denying it.
Suddenly, an idea came into your mind. It was insane. Of course it was. Because working at this place, with this man, it was inevitably going to drive you mad. You needed to see him crack. Needed it more than your next breath of air. Sure, you didn’t understand whatever weird things his family did. But you did know one thing. They loved their games. Sometimes the higher staff muttered about how the whole family loved to chase people through the woods, like foreplay. You’d read up about it, a kink called primal play. Admittedly, you’d found it hot as fuck. And if he did too? What was the harm.
Deciding to not overthink, you grab your bag and slip off the stupid heels you were required to wear for work. Titus watched you, an almost disgusted look on his face when he saw your foot. He wrinkled his lip as though to say something, but stopped when you pulled your gym clothes out of your bag. You stepped into your leggings, wriggling them up over your hips before twisting to unzip the stupid skirt that came with the stupid heels. Your work blouse was white and sheer, so you had a tank underneath it. Fingers moving quickly, you turned your back to Titus as you unbuttoned.
You turned around and Titus snapped his gaze up from where it had been on your ass. He was still and silent, but his eyes were bouncing from your chest to your face.
“What are you doing?”
You hopped on one foot, pulling on your sock before toeing into your sneakers. Repeating it on the other side, you looked at him.
“Going for a run.”
“Don’t I pay you to make my dinner?”
You tilted your head at him. “It’s been two weeks since my period started.” At his blank stare, you sighed. Men. “I’m ovulating. So if someone were to say, chase me down and fuck me, there’s a chance I could have a baby. An heir.” This was, of course, a lie. You had just finished your period a couple days ago. But when else would you have this opportunity?
His eyes glittered. “You want to play, little chef?”
Tightening your ponytail, you grinned at him, showing him all your sharp teeth. “Depends on how badly you want dinner.”
He stalked around the kitchen island, reaching for you. “I’ve got something else in mind,” his voice was dangerously low.
You grabbed the knife and tsk at him. The boldness you were showing him really was out of your personality, but something in his expression was egging you on. He looked…eager. You clenched your thighs together.
“Rules, Titus.”
His eyes flashed when you use his first name, and he stepped into your knife, letting it poke him in the chest. He glanced down at it, scoffing.
“Rules?”
“Yeah. It’s…7:30pm. You have until midnight.”
“Are knives allowed?”
You paused at that. Frankly, you’d picked the knife up on a whim. You didn’t love the idea of being cut.
“Only this one. I start with it. And I get a head start.” You could just hide it if you wanted to. Your heart was flying in your chest. Thank god you meant to go to the gym after work today, this would be no fun in heels.
He nodded. “How long?”
You sucked on your teeth, watching him track the movement. God, he looked hungry and you were dying to be his meal. But no, you had to make it challenging. 10 minutes would be too eager. You’d barely make it into the woods, it would be over before it began. Sure, you wanted him to fuck you but you wanted him frothing at the mouth first. Feral.
“20 minutes.”
“Anything else, little chef?” His voice was rough against your skin and you resisted the urge to shiver.
“No other weapons too. You have to wait here for twenty minutes. At midnight, if you haven’t caught me, the game is over and I go home.” You run through the rules again. You don’t think you’ve missed anything, but Titus looks suspiciously blank. “You have any rules to add?”
He shook his head, a smirk stealing across his face. “Better get running, little chef.”
You spun towards the door, then lunge back to grab your stainless steel water bottle from the counter. Seeing your phone, you decided against it. Your watch had a SIM card, you’d be able to call for help if you got lost. A knife and a water bottle were enough to burden you down, since you didn’t have pockets. “Okay. Now you can start the timer,” you told him.
Titus chuckled, and the sound followed you as you slid open the back door and bounded away.
Your pulse thundered in your ears as you quickly find a steady pace. Running wasn’t necessarily your favorite, but you did run some. You could get pretty far into the woods in twenty minutes. You ran in a straight line, aiming for the shadowy recesses to get away from Titus’s line of sight. Once in the woods, you could decide on your next move.
You’d barely started and you already could see why people liked this. The idea of Titus pacing, yearning to catch you and make you his was delicious. And the hint of fear thrumming through your veins? Also delicious.
When you hit the edge of the forest, you turned back to the house and let out a wild whoop. 9 minutes in. You were making good time. Just to really egg him on, you flipped up two middle fingers before darting in. Imagining him furiously waiting, you giggled. You turned back to your run and kept going. Once you were sure the trees hid you from his sight, you turned right and cut along the edge. Hopefully, Titus would assume you went deeper in.
Once your timer hit 20 minutes, you started to climb a tree. Knife in one hand, handle of your water bottle gripped between your teeth, you started. You were just barely able to make out the house from here, and with a higher point of view, maybe you’d be able to see where Titus was. At least for a bit. You’d barely climbed up 4 feet when you heard a soft rumble.
“The fuck,” you muttered, glancing toward the house to see what was going on. Was that an ATV? Or a golf cart? Your jaw dropped in astonishment. Titus was cheating! You’d clearly said…oh fuck. You hadn’t said anything about vehicles. Fucking hell. He’d be at the woods in a moment, fresh as a daisy, while you were panting from exertion. Hesitation froze your body for a too long moment, before you committed to your plan and started climbing. If you were above his eyesight, maybe he’d go right past you. You felt a fleeting sense of panic before you remembered this was just a game. A game that would end in you having sex with your sexy, weird boss. You tried to soothe your nervous system, but the sense of being hunted was deep in your bones as you saw the ATV enter the woods, and turn…directly towards you.
Breath coming in little pants, you picked a sturdy branch and sat on it. You were about 10 feet up, about as high as you dared to go. You spat out the water bottle into your hand and, hands trembling a bit, tried to open it. You succeeded, putting the lid on your thigh and took a deep sip, splashing half of it on your white tank. Close enough. Moving to put the lid back on, you accidentally knocked it onto the ground.
Fuck. You peered down, seeing the small black shape on the ground. It was innocuous enough, small and dark, and the ATV hadn’t come past your hiding space yet. You could see Titus in the distance, standing as he drove slowly, his head turning side to side as he scanned the woods. It was almost eery how predatory his weirdness was out here. Or maybe it was his predatory nature in a modern world that had always struck you as odd. But here, in the woods, he looked like a monster at the top of the food chain, and you were the hapless lamb that had taunted him into hunting you.
100 feet. 50 feet. 20 feet. His sharp eyes were relentless in their search, and you saw the exact moment he saw the water bottle lid on the ground. His eyebrows flicked up, and he got off the ATV to stalk over to the tree. Your heart was racing in your chest, and you felt shallow breathes leaving your mouth but it felt like you didn’t have enough air. Your skin was tight. Was this a panic attack? You quivered on your branch, a scared little bird, as he crouched down and picked up your lid in your fingers.
He let out a soft chuckle and stared up at your tree. “Little chef, that wasn’t even 30 minutes. How pathetic.”
Indignation made you bold. “You still have to catch me, don’t you?” His eyes darkened at that, and he stared up at you with that unbothered expression.
Fuck. You really needed to stop taunting him. He circled the tree and you craned your neck trying to watch him. You considered climbing higher, but your nerves had you shaking so badly you were afraid of falling. He went back to the ATV and came over with a duffle bag, moving to the other side of the tree. Once again, you were craning your neck to see what he was doing. You could only really make out his back when with a burst of speed, he turned to you with something brown in his hands. Rope? You barely managed to process the thought when a net was falling over your shoulders.
“The fuck?” You cursed, moving to shrug it off, but Titus had gathered all 4 ends of the large net and was pulling down. He was freakishly strong, and you were stuck, hunched and clinging to the branch.
“You can always jump down, sweetheart. It’ll hurt less,” Titus called. His muscles were tight as he pulled, but his voice was steady, as though this was no difficulty for him.
“Fuck you. Besides, it’s not like you can break the whole branch.” You gritted out the words. The net was digging into your back a little painfully. The knife! You belatedly remember, and begin sawing at the portion in front of you.
You heard Titus sigh, then the two ends of the net that were pressing into your thigh closest to the tree were pulled down harder while the other side was slightly looser. You cursed, trying to keep your knife steady, but then Titus was walking. He was dragging the net, like a fisherman in the ocean, and you were going to be either dragged off the branch or dragged to the end of the branch that couldn’t hold your weight.
You thrashed in earnest now, barely remembering that you had a knife, and you lost your balance. The net, you, the knife, and the open bottle of water all tumbled down onto the ground. You fell flat on your stomach, still covered in the net. The knife, miracle of all miracles, had not stabbed you.
You’d barely had a moment to catch your breath before hands were pulling at you. Titus had the net tangled around you and was trying to take the knife from your clutches. You growled like a trapped animal and hugged in, as close as you dared, to your body.
“Suit yourself,” Titus muttered, collecting the four ends of the net and dragging you over to the ATV. You tried to roll over, to at least be dragged on your back instead of your belly, but you only succeeded in getting onto one side. Tentatively, you grabbed a portion of the rope and began sawing again as you were dragged over grass, dirt, rocks. The idea that this was a game was long forgotten, and you were indeed thinking just like a trapped animal. He’d netted you, for god’s sake, and who knew where he was taking you? Your eyes were glued to him as you worked, frantic. Escape. Escape. The word reverberated in your mind.
He’d reached the ATV and tied the ends of your net around the back. There, he stripped off his coat, leaving him in a black t-shirt and he wiped his face before going back to his bag. Besides a light sweat, he was entirely calm and collected, whistling a little. He dragged the bag in front of you and took out a few pairs of zip ties.
“See, if you were good and gave me the knife, this net would already be open. I’d have you tied up, and then, well, I’d have you. But since you want to cut open the net yourself, I’ll just rest while you do.”
Your knife slowed as you processed his words. Inside the net, you were trapped, but outside the net, he was there. He was studiously ignoring you, prepping his zip ties and examining the contents of his bag. Maybe you shouldn’t keep sawing. Maybe it was safer in the net.
When your movements halted, that’s when Titus made his move. He leapt onto you, your hip under his muscled thighs as both of his hands pinned down your hand with the knife. He slammed the knife against the ground. Once, twice, three times before you let go with a yelp. One hand was still holding both of yours as he knocked the knife away and grabbed for the zip ties. You bucked underneath him, heaving your hip into the junction of his thighs, but he merely tightened them around you, holding you still in that awkward side position.
As though your struggles were nothing to him, he easily bound your hands together in front of you. He started to move off of you, and you kicked at him, wildly. Fortunately, you managed to connect with his knee. Unfortunately, you were still tangled in the net and couldn’t get any weight behind it, so he just laughed at you, grabbing the knife and moving your feet. In deft movements, he cut your feet free and tied your shoelaces together. Then he cut a few more inches higher before standing up. Grabbing your feet, he pulled you out of the net and dumped you onto the ground.
Standing above you for a moment, he gazed down at your face. “I’ve already made such a mess of you, haven’t I?” The knife was dangling from his hand.
Your throat worked as you swallowed, fear racing up your spine as his cool eyes appraised you. You still felt that wildness under your skin, the one begging you to flee.
You slowly moved your feet, wiggling until your heels were pressed together, and you started to work one sneaker off.
Titus sighed a little, sounding pleased. “I’m going to make an even bigger mess of you, and I’m going to enjoy every second.”
Leaning down, his hand reached down to brush a little mud off your face. He cocked his head, looking at your lips, and you, legs free again, aimed a kick at his nuts.
You didn’t quite hit your target, but a strong kick to the ass was enough to have him tumbling off of you, and you were lurching to your feet in socks. The knife glinted dully in the fading light, and you grabbed it in your still zip tied hands as you sprinted away.
You heard him groan and stumble to his feet as you crashed through the woods. Stealth was gone, and you couldn’t think of a plan besides run, and run faster. Terror was winding its way up your spine as his footfalls got closer and closer. Unable to bear it, you spun and slashed wildly with the knife, shallowly slicing Titus’s cheek. You felt your eyes widening, both at the fury on his face and at how close he had gotten to you.
With a roar like an injured bear, Titus tackled you. As you bounced off the forest floor, the knife was snatched from your hand and tossed into the woods.
Titus straddled your stomach, chest heaving. His fingers reached up to the cut on his cheek, touching the blood. Glancing at the blood, he then looked at you. Hell, he looked furious. With his clean hand, he grabbed your chin, hard.
“You see what you did?” He leaned in closer, as though to show you the cut. “You’ll regret it.” You groaned. A little due to the pain of his grip, a little due to the terror. He smeared his blood over your lips and as you gag, he shoved his fingers in your mouth. You could taste the metallic blood and you heave under him, bile in your throat.
“I think you are good and caught now.” Hovering over you, covered in blood, you still felt that twinge of attraction to him. God, the both of you were sick. He dropped his weight lower, and your thighs opened for him. You could feel his hardness through his jeans, and you moaned a little.
He nosed a line up the side of your neck, smelling you. You were pretty sure you stank of sweat and dirt, but maybe he liked that, because he groaned into your skin before capturing your mouth with his. Both of your lips were wet with his blood, and something deep within you clicked into place. This is what you needed. Being chased by this man who terrified you and turned you on in equal measures. Maybe you were fucked in the head but you loved this. How competently he trapped you, and you were helpless against it.
As though he could sense you were enjoying this too much, Titus drew away. He gripped the top of your soaking wet, dirty top and ripped it. Before he tossed it away, he wiped his face with it. You whined a little at that, now only in a cotton bra and leggings. His gaze was heavy on your skin, and he pushed the cups of your bra down before leaning down to bite each nipple, hard. You squirmed beneath him. His fingers snuck under the waistband of your pants and dragged them down, the grass wet under your bare ass. Grabbed and wiggled you like you were a doll, not a person.
Suddenly, he climbed off and shoved you. You rolled, trying to get your knees under you,when he was now on his back under you. His nose was inches from your wet pussy. You arched your back, moving farther from his face, when he grabbed your knees and shoved them apart. You practically fell onto his face, your arms still tied in front of you. It was so fucking undignified. You spat out a mouthful of dirt as his fingers pried you even wider open. and his tongue immediately started searching for your clit.
You could feel his scruff against your tender inner thighs, his nose pressing against your mound as his tongue licked you clean. His tongue was insistent and powerful and you whined into the dirt, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation.
“No,” he said roughly, pulling your hips harder into his face. He licked you for a moment longer then drew your clit into his mouth and sucked hard.
You cried out. “Too much!”
“Fucking come then,” he hissed, increasing the suction even more and ripping an orgasm out of your body. There was no build-up, just you giving in to his insistence that you come, and come now. Your thighs trembled and your body was trembling. All the tension from the hunt was draining from you, and you tumbled to the side and onto your back, whimpering slightly.
Titus stood, wiping his mouth with his arm, and looked down at you. Your ankles were tangled in your pants and your hands were still bound. The bliss faded a bit as that trapped, prey feeling returned. As though seeing your nerves return, he smiled coldly.
“Going to run again?”
You shake your head.
He sighed, glancing into the woods. As though he wanted you to run again. God, you didn’t want to run anymore. You wanted him to fuck you now.
“You won, I’m yours,” you said. You tried to arch up, enticingly. Maybe you could go back to his nice bed and fuck there.
He smirked, using one dark shoe to spread your knees and then he wrenched it down, dragging your pants off. Bending, he snatched the knife from where it had been flung and cut your hands free.
“Thanks,” you started, beginning to climb to your feet. You caught a glimpse of Titus’s darkening gaze, and then a fist slammed into your temple. The pain burst in your head, your vision blurring at the edges as you struggled to remain standing, mouth open in a soundless scream.
“You thought we were done,” he spat out, shoving you onto the ground. Once again, your face was in the dirt, now with his foot on the back of your waist. You writhe as he pinned you harder, moving his knee to the small of your back and wrenching your hands behind your back. Your shoulders scream in protest and you managed a pathetic yelp, which only made him chuckle as he once again bound your wrists.
“Lift your ass,” he ordered, and your knees refused to obey. He whacked your ass, hard, with, what is that, the flat of the blade? You struggled to do as he says. He’s fucking insane. You just wanted a good fuck, and he’s trailing the tip of the knife up your spine.
“What about now,” his voice was low. The tip is pricking your skin.
“W-what?”
At the sound of your trembling voice, he moved his hips behind you and you felt him hardening against you.
“If I let you, would you run again?”
You nodded, frantically. The knife was sharp against your skin, blood welling around it. You whimpered. He groaned, thrusting his still clothed hips against you and you moved forward, the knife slicing a vertical line before you jerked to a halt. Tears begin to stream down your face as the pain blossomed from your split skin.
“Oops,” he mutters, not sounding sorry at all. He sounds gleeful actually at the sight of your blood. “Let me just,” the blade moved away from your skin and you sob a little in relief before you feel him slash a horizontal line near the first cut. You shrieked and spluttered on the dirt entering your mouth.
“That should help you to remember where you are,” Titus said. “But just in case,” you heard the sound of his belt buckle behind you. Please, please just let him fuck you already and then you can leave this cursed place and never come back.
*thwap* the belt smacked into your ass and it burned like nothing you’ve ever felt before. You cried out.
*thwap* he aimed at the same spot, making the pain worse.
*thwap* “Let me hear you scream, little chef.”
*thwap* you gave in, the scream building in your lungs before bursting out of your mouth, echoing around the empty forest.
*thwap* “Louder. No one can hear you here.”
*thwap* The scream was tearing your throat, hurting almost as much as your ass.
*thwap* “Good. No one is coming to save you. Let me hear it”
*thwap* “Stupid thing, making bets with me.”
*thwap* “God you cry so beautifully for me”
*thwap* You physically could not muster up another scream, and your body was shaking under his hands as he dropped the belt.
He moved his hands back and you started to collapse onto your belly. “No,” his voice cut through the air like glass and you froze.
The sounds of his zipper echoed behind you, and you remained on your knees. One hand sank into your hair and the other pulled your hip up higher, arranging you just as he wanted.
You felt the head of him notch at your entrance, and you close your eyes. He felt thick, and at his stillness, you began to hope he’d ease into you.
Unfortunately, he did not. In one slam, his girth was slammed into you, splitting you apart. Unable to scream anymore, you groan as your cunt threatens to tear in two. Uncaring, Titus slammed into you harder and harder, wringing small gasps out of you as you ragdolled in his unforgiving grasp.
“Fucking useless,” he gritted out, punctuating each word with his hips pounding into you, “you didn’t even last an hour.” The insult stung, but for some reason, you felt yourself getting wetter as he berated you.
“I’m going to come because you don’t deserve another orgasm,” his hips pumped frantically, and you felt him spurt inside you. “But don’t worry, we are just getting started.”
“What?” You said, voice muffed.
“You might be shit at running. But your cunt is warm and tight. I’ll need it a few more times tonight.”
“B-but”
“But what? The rules are, if I didn’t catch you, I had to let you go. You didn’t say anything about me having to let you go when I caught you.”
You struggled in his grasp again, but it was futile. Impossibly, you felt him harden inside you again.
“Fight me, little chef. I fucking love it.”
You moaned and bucked against him, but you only managed to fuck yourself on his cock, and he laughed loudly at it.
“You’ll calm down this time, I’ll let you come too.” He hauled you up against him by your hair, the crown of your head pulled against his pecs as your bound hands dangled against his chest. You hissed in pain, but he simply adjusted his angle to keep fucking you, your legs spread around his thighs. His fingers found your clit and pinched you, punishingly hard. Eyes watering, you shook your head.
“You’ll like being mine,” he said, biting your earlobe. “Besides, you have your end of the deal to uphold,” his voice was menacing now, and you whined in his grip. He couldn’t know you had lied to him, could he?
“Yeah, little chef. 20 minutes was plenty of time to check your phone and see that, according to your period tracker, you are only 10 days into your cycle. Not ovulating yet. So I think I’ll keep you til then, fucking you full every day just to be sure. And, well, I’ll have to keep you after that to make sure it takes, don’t I? It’s only responsible.”
His words were disgusting, you knew that. But despite them, your body was responding to his perfect cock, and his mean, meaty fingers on your clit. You moaned.
“All mine. I’m going to keep you,” he grunted. You whined and his hand pulled your hair tighter, and he pinched your clit until you finally crashed over the edge of your building orgasm. As you clenched around him, he groaned. “Fuck. It’s incredible how good you feel. Such useless prey, such a wonderful fuck.” Your pussy milking him shoved him over the edge, and you both fell to the side. Unceremoniously, he pulled out of you. You felt his spend leaking out of you and onto your stubble burned thighs. It stung, but between the cuts on your back, your aching shoulders, your burning ass? You couldn’t be bothered to care about a little stinging.
Titus, dressed beside the undone top button of his pants, was opening a protein bar near you and taking a long drink of water. You eyed him, hungrily. “No, not for you. You gotta earn it. I think I’ll need a blowjob to get it up again, so maybe you’ll get a reward after that.”
You flashed your teeth at him. He took another bite and cocked an eyebrow at you. “You still have some fight in you, huh? Even with my initial carved into your back and my belt on your ass. Maybe you can take more than I thought,” he said, and you quickly close your mouth. You need to stop baiting this man.
***
Hours later, he was rutting against you like a man possessed and you, you were taking it face down in the dirt, and you fucking loved it. From somewhere behind you, you heard a buzzing noise.
Titus cursed and grabbed for it, one hand leaving your ass and the other moving around your stomach to hold you up as he continued thrusting brutally into your lax body.
“What, Ursula? I’m busy.” His voice was barely strained, you noticed dreamily. You were blissed out on orgasms, probably unable to speak from all the shrieking, and he was up there pounding into you, using you, and sounding utterly unphased. It was hot, and you moaned weakly.
“Shut up,” he barked at you.
“Yes, Ursula. I’m trying to get daddy dearest the heir he demanded so can you please deal with whatever he needs now? I don’t care if Alex is dead. Don’t call me.”
Titus hung up, folding his body over yours to latch his teeth into your abused shoulder as he came deep into your sopping wet cunt. You had to be overflowing with him by now. This night had gone from playful to serious to downright deranged, and somehow you were now extremely okay with being used like this.
He bit down hard, leaving marks above where he had carved in the letter T. “Mine, all fucking mine.” You nod. “Fuck my family. Let Ursula have the chair for now. I’ll get an heir, and then win the chair back for them.”
You had no idea what he was going on about, but who gave a fuck while he was fucking into you so deliciously? Not you, that’s for sure.