So I realized I haven't updated in nearly a year xD I have no other excuse than that life got busy and I got into cosplay so yeah…I'm sorry. But here's the new chapter and I'll try to update more frequently.

…

Samantha lied in Crane's unfeeling grasp that night. He had fallen into a deep slumber but she couldn't find her sleep. His grip was hard, cold and she wondered why he even bothered. He saw her as nothing but a plaything…

Her breathing hitched in her throat when he shifted against her, his arms around her waist tightening. He growled into her neck. She could feel her heartbeat fasten, thumping loudly in her ears and her breathing grew more ragged, panicked, silently pleading for him to stay asleep. She didn't want him to wake up so he could assault her again…

'You should sleep', he murmured.

Her body tensed up completely at his voice. She had never imagined in her life that just the sound of a person's voice could terrify her that much. But ever since she had been caught by Crane…every living moment was spent in dread.

He chuckled, nipping at her neck. He turned her over, so that their chests were touching. She weakly pushed against him, without results. He traced lines over her side and her legs, now entangled with his. She kept her eyes on her hands placed against his chest; afraid to set him off and receive punishment if she looked up without being asked to.

'You sweet thing', he murmured into her hair; 'you're shaking', he commented.

She didn't respond; he only laughed quietly, before she felt his full lips in her neck. She wanted to shrink into herself but he didn't allow it. He began to kiss her neck, firmly, lustfully, while his hand on her back moved towards her rear.

She didn't fight him. How could she? All she could do was lie still and take his assault. Every little kiss, every touch, every light pull from his teeth at her pale skin left her sighing and whimpering. Why did her body allow this to feel good? Why was she receiving such chills from his abuse? She didn't understand…

He sucked hard onto her nape, earning a moan from her before she could stop herself. She put a hand over her mouth, tears of shame pooling in her eyes.

Suddenly, he had turned on the lights and she gazed up to him fearfully. He stared her down, his blue eyes burning with lust.

'You're going to take off all your clothes.'

Her eyes went wide. She softly shook her head from side to side; she didn't want to be naked in front of him again.

'N-no -' 'I'm not going to ask again. Do as I say', he gripped her by the back of her head, forcing her closer; 'I would really reconsider my position if I were you. You're not in control; I am!', he threatened.

Sobbing now, she slowly pulled off her nightgown. She gazed at him innocently, her eyes pleading, begging him to let her stay in her clothes. His gaze, however, remained cold, and controlling.

'All of your clothes, Samantha', he repeated.

She wanted to turn around to have some sort of privacy but he gripped her tightly by her forearm, glaring her down with his cold, blue gaze. She let out a soft sob, feeling so helpless.

'No. Don't turn your back to me', he told her.

'P-please - ' 'shut up!'

Before she knew it, he had backhanded her across the face, hard. She clutched her throbbing cheek, her tears fully let out. She broke down crying.

'Are you going to obey now?' he asked lowly.

She gave a soft nod, in fear of what else he would do to her.

'Y-y-yes sir', she sobbed.

He nodded in approval.

'Good', he grinned.

His eyes went downwards, to her bra. With shame, she unclasped it and took it off. It landed on the pile of clothes besides the bed, as did her light blue, satin panties. She immediately crossed her arms over her chest.

'Ah ah', he began; 'let me see.'

She didn't need to look at him to see the twisted, perverted gleam in his eyes. She lowered her arms, feeling her breasts drop slightly as she did. They weren't small, but not that big either. But at this moment…all she wished was to be flat as a board, so she could be spared from being groped and assaulted all the time.

Releasing one wrist, his wet his thumb with his tongue, only to press hard into one of her nipples. She whimpered quietly in response. Please make him stop…

'I should just take you now and be done with it', his words caused her to freeze in fear. She felt his eyes drop downwards and a despicable grin played on his lips.

'P-please d-don't…' she begged him quietly.

He eased her down onto her back, only instilling more fear into her. He only looked down on her. She fearfully turned her head to the side, only for him to grip her tightly by the face.

'You know I don't like it when you do that', he warned.

She gulped; he couldn't blame her for looking away right? He had to know she was terrified of him (and rightfully so). He had assaulted her on numerous accounts and she had the feeling he was just getting started. The abuse was only going to get worse-

'I won't make you mine, just yet', he licked his lips; 'I don't want you to see it coming', he spoke lowly.

His thumb toyed with her bottom lip. 'You're going to be good tomorrow in court, aren't you?' he asked.

She gave a fearful nod at his question. He clicked his tongue at her. 'Good. Because if you're not', he lowered his head towards her, his nose brushing hers; 'you'll be tied to the post and beaten until you bleed.'

She whimpered at the thought. What kind of medieval torture was this man practicing?!

He tightened his grip on her chin. 'Have I made myself clear?' he asked.

'Y-yes sir', she weekly answered.

'Good.'

…

That following day only brought cold and despair. Samantha watched from where the makeshift 'jury' was standing as a young woman, with a child in her arms was shoved down before Crane's throne.

'Mrs. Bellerose, you are here today because you are guilty of living in the sweat of people beneath you', Crane started his sickening monologue.

The woman sobbed. 'I-I my husband-he-' 'You should let us have a go at her before she goes out onto the ice!' one of the men behind Samantha yelled.

She only flinched, earning the tight grip on her arm by the young mercenary that had guarded her before.

'It seems the jury fancied you quite a lot, Mrs. Bellerose', Samantha got chills from Crane's voice, her eyes set wide. He wasn't going to let those men rape that woman was he? She had a child?!

'Perhaps I should let them. After all, your husband bought you and brought you into Gotham for that purpose, didn't he?' Crane continued to taunt.

Samantha bit back her tongue. She wanted so badly to help the woman and her child. And she was selfish for not doing so but if she spoke up…she was the one to receive the full force of Crane's assault and the woman would die regardless. What good would it do?

She felt those blue eyes on her and she dared to look back, feeling her body stiffen as she did. His gaze taunted her, dared her to object, knowing how much she wanted to help.

With a sob, she kept quiet, her bottom lip trembling as Crane ordered the woman to be taken to the back of the courthouse and the baby to be slaughtered. She could only watch the helpless woman plead and beg for freedom, guilt filling her. What had she done?

…

Samantha struggled as the mercenary dragged her towards Crane's makeshift office. He forced her in, immediately closing the door behind her. She watched Crane carefully as he lifted his blue eyes from his papers.

Hadn't he done all this to her, Samantha might've found him handsome at some point. His strong jaw-line and cheekbones stood out against the stubble coating his chin. But he was a monster; responsible for her parents' death and her nightmares.

'You did well today', he stood up, walking around his desk until he was in front of her. She kept her eyes low, tears prickling in them until his finger hooked under her chin to look upon her face. She stared back at him, her bottom lip trembling.

His rough fingertips traced along her cheek, brushing her pale blonde hair behind her ear. She could've considered the movement gentle, if it weren't for all he had done. 'It must've been so awful for you, to watch her get dragged away to her fate', he leaned down; 'the very fate you could've gone through, hadn't I saved your miserable life', he spat out lowly.

She let out a whimper. 'Y-yes, sir', she meekly replied.

He took hold her neck, his fingers squeezing down on her throat enough to leave her light-headed.

'Remember this lesson, Samantha. Remember that, as long as you obey me, no harm will come to you', he whispered.

She gave a nod with a sob, trying to keep herself still as he pressed his lips to hers. She closed her eyes tightly, knowing not to pull back or recoil from his harsh touch. She knew she consequences if she acted in a way that displeased him.

He pulled back from her just as quickly, studying her facial expressions. She kept in her sobs, not wanting to show any weakness.

'Take off your clothes.'

She closed her eyes for a moment, her whole body shaking at his command. She obeyed him, knowing she had no other choice. She removed her coat first, then her shoes and leggings, followed by the grey, woolen dress she was wearing. She could feel the cold, crisp air nip at her bare skin, sucking off her body heat.

Moments later, she stood there before him, completely bare and trembling. He took in her naked body, his blue eyes darkening with twisted intentions. As he reached down to cup one breast into his palm he spoke:

'You know, I never grow tired of seeing you naked before me', his voice was deep and raspy, filled with lust.

'Just the thought that I will be the first, and last to have you…it's so enticing', he almost purred.

She didn't answer; she could only stare at him, while her heart raced in her chest. She wanted him to stop touching her but she knew he wouldn't; he enjoyed seeing her squirm and beg way too much to stop.

The more she thought it over, the more sick it began to sound. He got off on seeing her terrified…it was vomit-inducing. Then again, he was called the Master of Fear, so instilling terror into people was a daily task for him.

'Sit down on the desk for me', she moved without thinking; she sat down, spreading her legs when he commanded her to.

As he moved closer to her, one hand on the desk beside her and one between her legs, she let her tears out, whimpering quietly while his hands violated her again. All the while, she would curse herself for being so weak. She could do nothing; she was nothing. Just a toy for another person's needs and wishes.

…

Bit of a depressing chapter but hey, if I was in Samantha's shoes, you're damn right I'd get depressed too. Maybe she'll find help in the most unexpected of places but we'll never know ;)

Lots of Love,

~TheOneWithTooManyInterests