Trigger Warnings: Non-consent, abduction, forced imprisonment, drugging, psychological manipulation, degradation, and forced submission. The story includes cruel punishments (such as restraint, isolation, and mind games) and themes of obsession and control.

Important Disclaimer: This story delves into dark and disturbing themes. The male character is driven by obsession and operates with a deeply twisted sense of control over the female character. His actions are calculated, manipulative, and designed to strip her of autonomy. If themes of power imbalance, non-consent, or psychological torment are upsetting to you, this story may not be suitable. However, if you enjoy complex, dark psychological narratives, this is written with that intent in mind. Proceed with caution.

About This Story:
Hello! This piece serves as the prologue to a dark psychological thriller exploring the descent of a young woman into the clutches of an obsessed man from her past. This introductory chapter sets the tone for the rest of the story, giving readers a glimpse of the themes, characters, and tension to come. The following parts will be told entirely from Victoria’s perspective, diving deeper into her psychological and emotional experience as her world unravels.
Updates are planned regularly, but quality storytelling takes time, so your patience is greatly appreciated. I hope you enjoy the beginning of Victoria’s story, and I look forward to sharing the rest with you! <3

Note: This story is entirely fictional and intended solely for mature readers. All names, characters, and events are fictional and not based on real-life experiences.

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The air down here is different. Heavy. Damp. It presses on my lungs with every shallow breath I take, mixing with the sour stench of decay and something... metallic. Blood, maybe. My knees ache from the cold, hard stone floor beneath me, and my head hangs low, too heavy to lift after hours—or was it days?—of being left alone, chained and kneeling in this godforsaken dungeon.

I don’t even flinch when I hear the creak of the stairs. My body is too exhausted to muster any fight, though my mind races with panic. It’s him. It’s always him. Every step echoes like a death knell, each one louder and more deliberate than the last. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to disappear into the darkness behind my eyelids, but I can’t block out the sound.

The bucket comes first. I don’t even have to see it to know what it contains. The sloshing, the sickly sweet, sour stench of rotting waste—it hits me before his shadow even reaches the edge of my vision. My stomach churns in protest, but I bite down on the bile rising in my throat. I’ve learned by now that showing weakness only makes things worse.

I hear him stop a few feet away from me, his breath misting in the cold air. He lets out an exaggerated sigh, one that drips with condescension.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he says, shaking his head. “Is this any way to greet your gracious host? I expected a fight, some defiance, maybe even a plea for mercy. But not this… silence. It’s almost boring, princess.”

His voice is calm, smooth, but I can hear the underlying threat in his words. He wants a reaction. My silence is the only shred of power I have left, and I cling to it like a lifeline.

That is, until he yanks my head back by the hair.

Pain shoots through my scalp as I let out a scream, startled more than hurt. My neck strains against the pull, and for the first time, I look him in the eyes. His expression is as cold and calculated as ever, but there’s a flicker of amusement there too. He lives for this—the control, the torment.

“What the—” I try to shout, but my words are cut off as something is pressed hard against my mouth and nose. It’s rough, wet, and stinks of mildew. A cloth. My body reacts instinctively, thrashing and writhing, but his grip is like iron. He’s stronger than I could have imagined, pinning me in place with terrifying ease.

“Shhh, princess,” he says mockingly, his voice a cruel whisper in my ear. “It’s just me, your caring host.”

The sound of water splashing makes my stomach drop. Then it hits me—hot, scalding liquid soaking through the cloth and flooding my mouth and nose. My lungs scream for air, but all I get is water. I convulse, my body twisting in a desperate attempt to get away, but the chains hold me firmly in place. My mind screams this is it, this is how it ends.

“Good morning, princess,” he says, chuckling as I struggle beneath him. “They say hot water early in the day is good for your health.”

I don’t know how long it lasts. Seconds? Minutes? Time loses all meaning when you’re drowning. Just as my vision starts to blur, the water stops, and the cloth is ripped away. I collapse forward, gasping and coughing, my body convulsing as it fights to rid itself of the liquid. My throat burns, and my chest heaves as I drag in ragged breaths.

“You… you fucking psycho,” I manage to choke out between coughs, my voice hoarse and trembling.

His laugh echoes through the dungeon, cold and mocking. “Now, now, princess. Is that any way to greet your host? Especially when I’ve brought you breakfast.”

Breakfast. I follow his gaze to the bucket sitting a few feet away, the vile smell making my stomach lurch again. It’s filled with a rancid mix of rotting vegetables, spoiled meat, and other unidentifiable chunks floating in a murky liquid. I gag, turning my head away.

“What the hell is that?” I spit, glaring at him through tear-filled eyes. “I’m not eating that shit! I don’t care what you do to me.”

His expression changes then, his amusement replaced by something colder. Darker. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the small controller. My blood runs cold.

“You don’t want to eat what I made for you?” he asks, his tone deceptively calm. “Okay. Your wish.”

He presses the button.

The shock hits me like a lightning bolt, my entire body convulsing as electricity courses through me. I scream, the sound raw and guttural, my muscles locking as the pain takes over. It feels like an eternity before it stops, and when it does, I slump forward, panting and sweating, my body trembling uncontrollably.

He crouches beside me, his face inches from mine. “Now, princess, let’s try this again. Eat.”

I feel his hands on the back of the collar around my neck—not the shock collar, that stays on permanently—but the heavy chain connecting me to the wall. With a few quick movements, he unfastens it.

Before I can react, he grabs my wrists and pulls them roughly behind my back. The cold steel of handcuffs bites into my skin as he locks them into place. I tug weakly against the restraints, but it’s pointless. He’s stronger than me, and we both know it.

I bent towards the ground, my legs still kneeling. In an uncomfortable position I shake my head weakly, the defiance still burning in my chest despite the pain. “Princess, how many times I need to tell you this that you’re not a person anymore. You’re a filthy, stubborn little animal. So, let’s see you eat like one.”

Before I can process his words, he stands and places his boot on the back of my head, forcing me down. I scream and struggle, but it’s no use. His strength is overwhelming, and he pushes my face into the bucket of slop.

“No! Stop! Mmmphhh… gggmmmphhh…” My screams are muffled as the foul mixture fills my mouth and nose. I’m forced to swallow just to breathe, the taste vile and overwhelming. Tears stream down my face as humiliation burns in my chest.

He holds me there for what feels like an eternity before yanking me back up by my hair. I gasp for air, choking and coughing, my face dripping with the disgusting slop. He looks down at me, his smile cruel and satisfied.

“There you go, princess. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

I glare up at him, my eyes filled with tears of anger and humiliation. I want to scream, to fight, to do anything but sit there and take this, but my body betrays me. I’m too weak. Too broken.

He wipes his boot with a nearby cloth, his movements slow and deliberate. “Now, princess, I have some things to prepare for our next little… activity. While I’m gone, you’re going to eat the rest of that. Understood?”

I hesitate, my pride screaming at me to defy him, but the sight of the controller in his hand is enough to make me nod. “Yes… understood.”

“Good girl,” he says, his tone dripping with mockery. “I expect that bucket to be empty by the time I return. And just in case you get any ideas about making a mess, remember this—” He holds up the controller, his thumb hovering over the button. “I’ll be watching.”

I nod again, my voice barely a whisper. “I… I won’t. I’ll eat it.”

He smiles, satisfied, and turns to leave. As he ascends the stairs, his voice rings out one last time. “And not a drop left, princess. I mean it.”

The door slams shut behind him, and I’m left alone in the suffocating silence of the dungeon. My body trembles as I stare at the bucket in front of me, my mind reeling from what just happened. I take a deep breath, trying to steel myself, knowing that disobedience is not an option.

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