***Content Warning / Disclaimer: This chapter contains mature themes, including psychological manipulation, violence, and adult content that may be disturbing or triggering to some readers. It is intended for audiences 18 years and older. Reader discretion is strongly advised. If you are sensitive to themes involving coercion or emotional distress, please proceed with caution or consider skipping this chapter. ***
Everyday since the day he passed a paper with his number on it to Lily, he would always check on his phone, and like clockwork, he would send her fabulous gifts, Rue de Rêve branded clothes, bags, jewelries, flowers and the event sent a bag full of money once with a letter that says: 'Please accept my offer. It has to be you'
But not once did any of those works move Lily, who remedied everything back to Chester's address and mail. She understood nothing of it and wanted to have nothing to do with fashion, regarding herself not having time for such things.
In the center of his secret studio stood Cameron. Rolls of luxurious fabric draped over mannequins like ghosts watching him. The formerly imaginative sketches now mocked him in silence. Two weeks-not more than that-until the Met Gala. And his muse, his perfect vision, still refused to accept her fate.
He threw his pencil across the room, out of frustration.
"I cannot believe this, she has got to be mine, she has to be with me. What do I have to do to make her join me? It has to be her. I need it to be perfect," he mutters through gritted teeth.
His voice? But the other side bore a storm behind his eyes. Slowly with the curled-up lips, almost devilishly.
"If she won't come willingly,"he whispered, "then I'll make sure she can't say no. She'll see. She was meant to wear my creation. She just doesn't understand it yet."
That night, Lily was walking home from the campus workshop, her arms sore from hauling model boards and her ever-heavy drafting case. It was really late. The city lights flickered tiredly, as if they were stars that had burned out a long time ago. This was the last thing she noticed, a sleek black van pulling up behind her, before it was too late.
A cloth. Sudden pressure. An acrid chemical smell.
Darkness.
Dim chandeliers flickered above, their light dancing across the cold cement walls of what looked like an underground wine cellar turned luxury dungeon. Lily woke into total darkness, having no way of opening her eyes, lying on a velvet chaise lounge. She was bound, her hands and legs tied, and her eyes covered by a blindfold. She couldn't move at all.
Her head throbbed.
"W-Where am I?" Her voice cracked as panic gripped her chest. "Hello?!" Tears sprang up and began pouring forth, soaking the cloth across her eyes.
The door creaks open.
Cameron and Chester entered the room. While Cameron leaned against the door, Chester approached Lily, stopping just close enough for her to hear him speak.
"You are safe,"he said, in the process of locking the door. "You really don't have to cry."
"What the hell is this? Why are you doing this? Please let me go," She demanded and sobbed.
"He didn't want it to come to this. But you gave him no choice. You're… the idea, the one we need, Lily. He sees something in you that no one else does. He just wants you to realize it too." Chester explains to her calmly.
"This is madness. Let me go. Please"
But Cameron's gaze turned cold as he stepped closer to her. "Let me make something clear. We'll let you go, but you need to agree to my terms. Now if you try to escape, we erase you. You disappear...poof... and no one will even ask where you went. Architecture student vanished. It'll be the headline news for a day. Tops."
Horribly churning within Lily's belly, she hesitated even to breathe. His voice, she knew it. "I recognize that voice... It's him... It's Cameron. Oh my god," she thought. She cried even worse, pleading him with sobs to set her free as she continued to cry and beg for their mercy.
"Please Cameron, I know that's you. I know you're a good person. You don't have to do this! Please! I really don't wanna do it. I have my own life. Please Let me go..."
Cameron froze. He started to feel something inside him, looking at her made him hot and he started sweating. He couldn't take it anymore and he ran out of the room.
Chester could only watch as Cameron rushed out of the room. Worry was written all over his face, but he understood what it meant. Or so he thought. He remained in the room, continuing his conversation with Lily, trying to persuade her.
"You can fight it,"he said. "Or… you can step into your destiny. Wear the gown. Be the muse. And walk away with everything you've ever dreamed of — fame, money, your tuition paid, a future. You don't have to do anything else. Just play the part. We can take care of everything for you to focus on modeling for us."
Upstairs Cameron sat on the edge of the bathroom, shoulders tense, jaw locked. It's weird, this isn't the first time he had seem a woman cry, or beg, or even girls being tied up. But Her tears did something to him. Not pity, not empathy, not power... but something raw and chaotic.
He felt hot. He looks down between his legs, he could feel his member throbbing. His face is bright red and is breaths are heavy and hot.
This is the first time that this happened to him. His heart started racing. The image of her is stuck in his head, it keeps repeating, it's on loop. He couldn't understand. Is it a new kink he's just now discovering? But that couldn't be. It's not like he's virgin anymore, or that he hasn't tried BDSM before. He had. He thought to himself that he had experienced it all already.
But why did that scene make him this way.
Is it possible that she's the only one who made him this way? Her?
He wasn't sure, but one thing was certain, he couldn't control himself in this moment.
"Why am I being turned on with that scene?" He thought as he put his hand in his mouth looking at his member. Tempted.
He couldn't take it anymore and without any second thought he lets out his excited member and played with it. He had to face the wall, planting his left hand firmly against the wall for balance support. His head hung low between his shoulders, forehead nearly touching the wall as he strokes his member sliding up and down. HARD.
Imagining the scene he had seen, repeatedly playing in his head. And as he about to reach his climax, all he could think of was her face. Her blindfolded, wet of tears face, begging him to let go.
He strokes it harder, faster, overwhelmed by a feeling he'd never experienced before. Closing his eyes, He imagines her image more clearly—the curve of her lips, her tear-streaked rosy cheeks. Her body rests gracefully on the velvet chaise lounge, and he traces the curves of her form, noting how perfectly they align with the contours of the chair.
"fuckkkk." he screamed in his mind as he climaxes.
"What's wrong with me? What just happened"he said as he looks at the white goo dripping in his hands.
It wasn't how he imagined their union would begin. But it had begun.
He pressed his forehead to the cool wall of the bathroom
"She's here,"he whispered. "And I'll show her. Not with threats. Not with pain. With beauty. With everything I can make...for her."