Continuation

The months did not pass cleanly.

After the first night Rajesh did not open the gate. He kept us. The hypnosis never fully lifted. It sat behind our eyes like warm oil, loosening our tongues and our limbs whenever he spoke. Priyanka’s white dress was washed once and then left in a corner. Most days she wore nothing at all, or only the thin gold wedding chain. Her stomach began to swell after the third week. The change was faster than it should have been. By the end of the second month the curve was unmistakable under her ribs. She moved more carefully when she walked, one hand resting low on the swell as if she could already feel something moving inside.

I stayed tied. The iron ring in the high chamber became my place. Some days the rope was replaced with chains. The bats came and went. They fed in small, sharp bites across my chest, stomach, and thighs whenever Rajesh left the room. Blood dried and cracked on my skin. My cock stayed hard more often than not because he had ordered it to. I could feel every sting. I could not pull free. I watched.

Priyanka served him. She brought water in a clay cup and held it to his mouth. She knelt between his knees while he sat in the stone chair and took his cock into her throat until her eyes watered. She slept in his bed—a wide frame of dark wood set against the far wall of the chamber. Most nights he fucked her there while I hung from the ring and counted the thrusts because the hypnosis made the numbers leave my mouth. The sex stayed painful. He liked the sound of her crying. He liked the way her body still resisted even after weeks of use.

On the night the swell of her stomach first became obvious he bent her over the edge of the bed and pushed into her from behind without preparation. She was dry at first. The stretch made her cry out—a sharp, broken sound that cracked halfway through. He did not pause. He drove forward in one long thrust until his hips met her ass. Blood welled where he forced her open. It ran down the inside of her thigh and dripped onto the stone. She sobbed into the blanket, fingers knotted in the fabric. He set a brutal pace, short strokes that jolted her entire body forward. Each thrust pushed a fresh mix of blood and earlier come out around his cock. He reached under her and rubbed her clit with rough, circling pressure while he fucked her. The combination made her legs shake. She cried his name once, then mine, then only wet, helpless sounds.

He bit the back of her shoulder while he moved inside her. Fangs sank deep. He drank. More blood welled and ran down her spine. Her skin paled under the torchlight. She kept her eyes open because he had told her to. Tears tracked through the dust on her face. When he finally came he stayed buried, grinding deep while he spilled. She whimpered at the heat of it. He pulled out slowly. A thick strand of come and blood followed. He pushed two fingers into her and worked them in and out, forcing what had leaked back inside. Priyanka’s body clenched around his fingers. She was crying openly, the sound hoarse. Her free hand rested on the swell of her stomach as if she could protect what grew there. He added a third finger. The stretch made her cry out again, higher. He kept them there, twisting, while he bent and kissed the side of her throat, fangs nicking the skin until fresh blood welled.

“Stay open,” he said. “You will take it until the child is ready.”

She slept in his bed that night with his come and her blood still wet between her thighs. I hung from the ring and listened to her breathing. The bats settled on my chest. Their teeth found the skin near my nipple. I counted the bites. In the morning she woke and crawled to the edge of the bed on her hands and knees because he had not told her she could stand. She looked at me. Her eyes were glassy. A tear ran down her cheek.

“I shouldn’t want this,” she whispered. The hypnosis let the words out. “It hurts every time. I can still feel where he split me open last night. But when he puts his mouth on my throat my body gets wet even while I’m crying. And the baby… it moves when he fucks me. I felt it. Like it knows him. I’m sorry. I keep thinking about the way he looks at me while he does it. I shouldn’t. I’m his now. I know that. But part of me keeps opening for him anyway.”

The weeks continued. She served him at the long table, kneeling beside his chair with her swollen belly resting against her thighs while she took his cock into her mouth. She cleaned the bites on his chest with a wet cloth and then licked the places she had cleaned because he told her to. At night he fucked her on her back with her knees pushed toward her shoulders so the swell of her stomach rose between them. The angle was deeper. She cried through most of it. Blood and fluid ran down onto the sheets. He drank from her throat while he thrust, the wound reopening each time. Her skin grew paler. The child inside her grew faster. By the fourth month her belly was large enough that she had to brace one hand against it when she walked. Rajesh placed his palm there while he fucked her and told her the thing inside would disobey me, that it would have urges that did not belong in any house I could give it.

I stayed tied. The bats fed. Some nights he made Priyanka kneel between my spread legs and use her mouth on me while he fucked her from behind. She cried around my cock. Her throat tightened with every one of his thrusts. Blood from the fresh bite on her shoulder dripped onto my thigh. I could feel the heat of her tears. I could not look away. The hypnosis held every muscle still.

He fucked her until she could not stand on her own. One night he laid her on the bed, pushed her knees up, and entered her in one long, hard stroke that made her cry out raw. He set a punishing rhythm, hips cracking against her, blood and come leaking around his cock with every thrust. He bit her throat while he moved, drinking deeply, her skin paling further under his mouth. She sobbed through it, one hand on her swollen belly, the other fisted in the sheets. He came inside her again, grinding deep, then used his fingers to push the spill back in until she whimpered and shook. Her eyes stayed on him, glassy, the fear mixed with that soft helpless pull the hypnosis had shaped.

On the night he finally opened the gate her stomach was high and tight under the stained white dress he made her wear again. He cut the ropes at my wrists. The spreader bar came away. My arms dropped. The bats lifted and vanished into the dark ceiling. Blood ran freely from the small bites across my chest and thighs. I stayed on my knees because my legs would not hold me yet.

“Dress her,” he said.

My hands moved. I pulled the white dress over Priyanka’s body. The fabric clung to the blood and come still wet between her thighs and stretched tight over the swell of her stomach. She stood when he told her to, swaying. One hand rested on the curve. She looked at him. Her eyes were wet. Something soft and helpless lived in them under the fear.

“It was always the plan,” he said. “The wrong train. The locked door. The empty station. The carriage that waited. You were meant to arrive here. She was meant to be opened on this floor. And now she carries what I put inside her. The child will grow faster than any human child. It will disobey you. It will have urges that do not belong in your house. You will know it is mine every time it looks at you.”

“You may leave,” Rajesh said. “The gate will open. The road will take you back to the station. The next train will stop. You will go home. And you will remember that what grows inside her is mine.”

Priyanka’s hand found mine. Her fingers were cold. She looked back at him once, mouth parted as if she wanted to speak and could not find the words. Then her feet moved because he had told them to. We climbed into the carriage. The door closed. The wheels started down the empty road between shuttered houses. No lights in any window. No dogs. Only the sound of the wheels and Priyanka’s quick, shallow breathing beside me. Her free hand stayed on her stomach. The white dress was stained dark in places. Outside the fort the sea kept its steady rhythm against the rocks. Inside the carriage the hypnosis still held every muscle. We could feel everything. We simply could not stop moving.

The train was waiting when the carriage reached the empty station. We boarded the same second-class sleeper. The compartment was empty. Priyanka sat on the berth opposite me, the stained white dress pulled tight around the high curve of her belly. Her lip was still swollen from the last bite. The marks on her throat showed above the collar. She looked at her hands for a long time. When the train began to move she spoke, voice small and hoarse.

“I shouldn’t have been scared,” she said. “He used me. I know that. For months. I slept in his bed. I took him every night even when it split me open and I cried. Part of me liked it. I didn’t want to. I kept thinking about you tied to the wall. But my body kept opening for him. And the baby… it moved the whole time he was inside me. It still moves. I can feel it now. It’s warm. And when I think about his mouth on my throat I get wet again even though everything still hurts. I shouldn’t say that. I’m sorry. But I can’t stop thinking about the way he looked at me while he did it. And I think the baby already knows him. I think it’s going to want him more than it wants us.”

She looked up. Her eyes were still glassy. A tear ran down her cheek and caught on the split in her lip. Her hand rested on the swell of her stomach. Outside the window the dark countryside rolled past. The hypnosis had not fully left either of us. We sat in the empty compartment with the sound of the wheels under us, and neither of us could look away from the other. The child inside her shifted once, a slow, deliberate movement against her palm. She did not take her hand away.