On what should have been another harmless girls’ night out, Victoria — the elegant centerpiece of the group — finds herself flattered, pursued, and ultimately undone by the very attention she has secretly craved. Impaired, manipulated, and seduced into stepping across the street from her own home into Ethan’s, she makes the first fatal move in his long-awaited game.
Content Warning: This story contains themes of manipulation, sexual coercion, and psychological abuse. It is dark by design and may be triggering for some readers.
This story has been inspired by the story “Girls night out gone wrong!”, written by DarkObssessions.
I hope my work meets the high standards of writing from the community. All constructive criticism and feedback are welcome.
Chapter 1: The Queen (Victoria’s Entrapment)
Part One
The city’s heart throbbed with the bass-line, each beat echoing like a pulse through the velvet-dark streets. Inside the nightclub, golden light bled across mirrors and chrome, restless gleams sweeping the crowd.
Victoria stood at the center of it all, poised like she belonged yet strangely apart. Her long, shapely legs gleamed beneath a black dress that clung like a second skin. A sleek braid slid over one shoulder, high cheekbones catching the light. Polished, magnetic — admired, yet her eyes carried the faintest melancholy.
The five women clustered at their table; glasses raised in mock-solemn ritual.
“To surviving another week of husbands, kids, and social nonsense,” Emily declared, her quick tongue sparking laughter.
“Speak for yourself,” Hannah said, tall and broad-shouldered. “I’d kill for a husband who’s never home. Mine still thinks ‘helping with dinner’ means finding the takeout menu.”
The table laughed. Sabrina perched on her chair’s edge, snapping a photo. “At least we look like we’re having fun.”
Chloe leaned closer to Victoria, words cutting through the moment. “You’re quiet tonight. Everything okay?”
“Fine,” Victoria lied, forcing a brittle smile.
“Fine?” Emily snorted. “That’s wife-code for sleeping in the guest room.”
Laughter rippled again. Victoria didn’t join. She tipped her glass back harder than she meant to, then sat back, eyes drifting toward the bar.
Across the bar, Ethan laughed with the blonde. The laugh was smooth, practiced, enough to draw her closer. In the mirror behind the bottles, though, his eyes never left the queen.
Victoria.
A queen piece — elegance disguising power, conversation bending around her. Not tonight, he told himself, patient as a grandmaster studying the board. Unless the file opens.
He let the blonde think she mattered, while cataloguing the rest:
Emily — sharp, cutting. Bishop. Sees at angles, cuts at angles.
Hannah — steady, square-shouldered. Rook. Anchor. Sabrina — quick laughter, constant movement. Knight. Erratic arcs. Chloe — smaller, underestimated. Pawn. Harmless until she isn’t. Like their queen, they all had their own skeletons.
Decoys work best when they feel like options, and the blonde was perfect for that role. But the queen lingered on her glass too long, fingers resting a beat past casual. A tell.
He marked her patterns: the turned wedding ring, the tired edge of her smile, the empty glance at her phone that said he’s traveling. From far away, her life looked untouchable. Up close, seams showed.
Not tonight, he almost decided again. But then the circle broke — laughter tugging the rook and knight away, the bishop caught in a phone, the pawn filming the crowd. A lane opened.
Across the bottles, Victoria laughed automatically, then steadied herself with two fingertips on the table. A refill she didn’t need pulled her toward the bar.
That, Ethan thought, is a piece worth taking.
He rose gracefully, dismissing the blonde with a smile polite enough to leave her glowing. Then he was beside Victoria as the bartender slid her a fresh glass. She caught it clumsily, nearly spilling.
Ethan steadied the rim, his fingers brushing hers. As his hand passed over her glass, two thin streams of bubbles trailed upward from the bottom of her glass.
“Careful,” he said, warm, low.
Victoria laughed softly, embarrassed. “Guess I’m clumsier than I thought.” She sipped. The drink fizzed oddly on her tongue. ‘Tastes different’ she thought, a flicker of unease.
But Ethan’s smile disarmed her, his voice was calm and certain.
“Or just tired,” he said easily, raising his own glass — water disguised as vodka.
She studied him, sharp jaw, dark eyes, a presence confident without pressing. Charming without pushing.
“You could say that” she admitted. “And you are?”
“Ethan. And you’re Victoria.”
Her brows lifted. “Have we met?”
“Not officially.” His smile widened just enough. “But some people are hard to miss.”
The line landed perfectly — flattering without weight. She smiled, half reflex, half real.
“You’re smooth, Ethan.”
“Practice.” He lifted his glass in a mock toast.
Victoria laughed — thinner, but real. She didn’t notice her friends still at the table, or the blonde slipping into the crowd.
To her, it was a pleasant distraction.
To him, the first move made aloud.
She swirled her drink, motion sluggish. “You should come meet my friends,” she said, her voice softer than she meant. The words felt too heavy in her mouth. ‘Why did that sound wrong’ she wondered.
“Tempting,” Ethan replied, smooth as water. “But it looks like you’re their queen tonight.”
Her laugh came too quick, too loud. She pressed her fingers to her lips, cheeks flushed. “Hardly. Just tradition. We do this every week. Girls’ Night Out.”
‘Why am I explaining?’ Her mind wondered why she was suddenly overly open with this man. “They love the show and music; I love the escape.”
“Then maybe we deserve our own stage.” He nodded toward a smaller table in the shadows. “Easier to talk.”
She tugged at her dress strap, hesitated, then nodded. “All right. Just for a little while.”
At the smaller table, her laugh bubbled too easily, spilling into silences. She dabbed at her neck with a napkin. “God, it’s hot in here.” Hotter than it should be. ‘Why?’ She wondered.
Ethan asked the right questions, and she answered with stories that ran long: her daughters, her absent husband, galas she no longer cared about.
‘Why am I telling him all this?’ Confusion ran through her mind. The thought faded each time he leaned closer, smiling.
From across the room, her friends glanced over, saw her smiling, and relaxed.
To Victoria, it felt like being seen.
To Ethan, it was the queen drifting into his trap.
The music pressed harder in her ears, bass-line pounding. She laughed too loudly again, catching herself with a hand to her mouth. “God,” she muttered. “It’s stifling in here. Or is it just me?”
Ethan tugged at his collar, casual, eyes flicking toward the door. “Not just you. Crowds do that.”
Victoria followed his glance. Cool air beckoned through the open door. “Maybe I should… get some air.”
“That sounds perfect,” he agreed.
They rose together, weaving through the crowd. She stumbled once, shoulder clipping a stranger. Ethan’s hand steadied her arm, light and certain.
Near the exit, Chloe and Emily appeared. “You, okay?” Emily asked Victoria with concern in her voice.
“We were just stepping outside,” Ethan said smoothly. “Want to join us?”
Victoria shook her head, smiling. “God no.” Half laughing, half trying not to offend. “Don’t let me ruin your fun. I’m in good hands.”
Chloe and Emily exchanged a look. Victoria’s insistence turned the tide. While she insisted that she was fine, she wondered, ‘am I really?’ They finally retreated reluctantly.
Outside, cool air hit sharp. Victoria exhaled, relief pouring out of her. Neon painted the lot in fractured color.
She pressed a hand to the wall, heels unsteady. “God. I think the world is still spinning.” She laughed weakly. “Maybe I had one too many.”
Ethan’s eyes softened, concern without judgment. “It happens.”
He gestured toward a sleek black car nearby. “Want to sit? Just until you catch your balance. It’s quieter there.”
She tugged at her dress strap again, wavering. Sitting sounded good. Her legs ached, heat clung stubbornly to her skin, and the pavement felt treacherous.
“All right,” she murmured as her eyes were starting to glaze over. “Just for a minute.”
Ethan opened the passenger door. She slid into the cool leather seat, sighing, brushing a strand of damp hair from her forehead.
She barely noticed the seatbelt drawn across her. Its clicking sound should have been an alarm, but her mind couldn’t focus clearly.
He closed the door gently, circling the hood with unhurried calm.
To her, it was kindness.
To him, the soft click of another piece set in place.
Part Two
The car hummed steady beneath her, tires carrying a rhythm she couldn’t shake. Each turn of the wheels pressed through her chest, syncing with the quickness of her breath until she could hardly hear herself think.
Ethan, rested a hand on her left thigh. The immediately drifted down and gently gripped her inner thigh.
Her body stiffened. Heat flared where it shouldn’t, spreading sharp and fast. She pressed her lips together, praying her face hadn’t betrayed it. ‘No. Not this. Not now.’ Her mind pleaded.
“You’re tense,” his voice murmured through the quiet. Calm, easy, unthreatening. “You deserve to relax tonight.”
Her breath stuttered. She tried to laugh but it came out broken, caught between protest and something else.
‘Relax.’ The word curled inside her like smoke. She hadn’t relaxed in years — not really. Not since before the girls, before every kiss with her husband became a routine peck, dutiful as a prayer before meals.
She couldn’t help how her mind replayed the word over and over again, ‘relax.’ Her legs slowly parted as she felt his hand wanting more.
Ethan’s hand moved under her dress and up her leg. She felt him touching the fabric of her panties. To her horror, they were already wet. And now he knew!
Her pulse leapt. She shifted in her seat, but the leather pressed cool against her back, trapping the heat rising through her. ‘Move. Say something. Stop this.’ Her mind begged.
“You’ve no idea,” his voice slid in again, “how stunning you look tonight. More than stunning. Strong, beautiful… radiant.”
Her throat tightened. She opened her mouth, ready to object, to remind him she was married. But no words came. Instead, her chest rose too quickly, her breaths shallow.
‘Lord, forgive me.’ The thought blazed sharp. ‘I am not this woman. I don’t want this. I don’t…’
Yet her body betrayed her, heartbeat drumming in perfect time with the tires, every pulse driving the warmth deeper.
She clenched her hands in her lap, trembling. Her lips parted — not in prayer, but in something dangerously close to need.
“You’re not used to being looked at like this, are you?” His tone was almost pitying. “Not the way you should be.”
Tears threatened. She blinked them back, shaking her head as if she could deny both him and herself. ‘He’s wrong. I have my husband. My family. My vows.’ She begged herself to speak, but she couldn’t.
And yet… no kiss at the door had ever made her heart pound like this.
Her gaze slipped out the window. Streetlamps flared and fell, storefronts flickered by. Recognition settled cold in her chest. This was her route. The way home.
Her heart seized. ‘How… how does he know?’
For a moment, suspicion burned. Then she bit her lip, forcing logic in. ‘I must’ve told him. Somewhere in there, between laughing and talking… I must’ve.’
She exhaled shakily, pressing her palm against her thigh as though to quiet the tremor.
Ethan’s finger slowly entered her. She hadn’t even realized he had pushed her panties aside. Now his finger was slowly moving between her lips, while his thumb drew small circles around her clit. Her weakened hand touched his arm but couldn’t even grip it.
Her skin burned under the steady presence. Her mind screamed for distance, but her body arched with every subtle curve of the road. Her breath came quicker, ragged now. She needed distraction — anything to drag her away from the ache building between her legs.
Her purse lay at her feet. She bent forward, fumbling for her phone. The screen’s glow lit her face, a cold slice of clarity in the dark.
Her thumb hovered over her husband’s name. ‘Call. Just call.’
A near forgotten sensation ripped through her body as she shuttered, ‘oh god!’ She nearly dropped her phone. She moaned softly, muffled only by her hand.
Shame coiled tighter. ‘What would I say? That I’m in a car with a stranger? That I am letting this happen? Do I dare let him hear me like this?’
Her thumb slid instead to her group chat. Emily. Chloe. Hannah. Sabrina. Their names glowed safe, familiar. She typed slowly, each word a lifeline.
‘Ethan’s driving me home. Only minutes away. Don’t wait up.’ She typed out the ‘all clear’ signal she and her friends have developed over the years.
She lingered, thumb hovering. For a moment, she almost erased it, almost started over. A cry for help balanced at the edge of her throat.
She hit send. Relief shivered through her chest, thin but convincing. A soft smile on her lips. Convincing herself of something she knows isn’t true.
The phone slipped back into her purse. She leaned into the leather seat, eyes fluttering shut.
‘Safe. I’m safe. I’ll be home soon.’ She lied to herself. Meanwhile, her body trembled as she felt the waves building against her walls.
It came so fast and had been so forgotten, that she wasn’t prepared for it. She pressed her hips forward into his hand as she came.
Her hands covering her mouth. She let out a deep primal lustful moan. Her body shook and trembled as her mind raced, ‘oh god, what have I done!’
The tires drummed on, steady, relentless, carrying her deeper into the night.
She had turned her face towards the window, and she allowed a soft whimper to escape her lips while a tear slipped down her face.
The car slowed, tires whispering against the pavement. Victoria blinked hard, chest still rising too fast, every breath shallow. The warmth in her thighs refused to fade, trembling reminders of what she had allowed only minutes ago.
‘Lord, forgive me. What am I doing?’ Her mind asked in shame and guilt.
Through the glass she saw it — her street.
Her heart leapt. Across the road, three houses down, the porch light glowed steady, a beacon. The upstairs window stood cracked for air, her daughters asleep inside. Home. The vows she had guarded. The life she had just betrayed.
But the car did not stop there.
It idled at the curb directly in front of another townhouse. Sleek. Immaculate. Its entry glowed warmly, light spilling like a welcome. She knew this place only in passing — gossip once, that it belonged to a chess master — but she had never cared enough to wonder. Now she stood before it. Already here.
The engine cut. He stepped out, the door closing soft as a sigh.
Her own door opened a breath later. Cool night air rushed in, sharp against her flushed skin. She reached for balance, but her heel wobbled.
His hand steadied her arm. Not forceful — steady, practiced. She nearly stumbled into him before finding her footing.
Her head swam. Her pulse beat too quick, matching the rhythm of the tires still echoing in her body.
“You can cross back,” his voice came low, almost gentle. “Slip into your world. Safe. Predictable. Loveless.”
Her eyes locked on her door, three houses down. She should run. Cross the street. Close this night forever.
“Or…” His tone softened, coaxing. “You can walk with me.”
She turned toward the immaculate townhouse before her. Warm light spilled like an answer.
Her chest ached. ‘Home. Or him.’ Her vows screamed across the street. Her body whispered toward this door.
‘You’re already here,’ a thought pressed in, mercilessly. ‘You’ve already chosen.’
Her knees trembled, guilt flooding as strong as heat. She looked once more at her own house — the safe door, the empty door — and then stepped forward.
His arm coiled around her, gentle but certain, guiding her up the stairs. Each step pulled her farther from the glow across the street.
At the threshold, as the key turned in the lock, she glanced back one last time. Her eyes fully glossed over. Her house waited only three doors down, porch light steady, children sleeping above. A tear traced her cheek, silent, unbidden.
Then the door opened, and with a soft nudge, she crossed into the shadows of another man’s house.
Part Three
Ethan guided her down the hall, his hand steady at her back. The door opened into a master bedroom washed in golden light.
At first, she barely registered the details, her thoughts hazy and scattered — but the corners of the room caught her eye. Two tripods stood waiting, angled toward the bed like silent witnesses.
Her heart skipped. She blinked hard, wondering if she imagined them.
‘Cameras? No. Lamps?’ The thought slipped away, drowned in the heat still running through her veins.
Ethan slowly walked her backwards towards the bed and in to frame of the cameras. His hands lightly guiding her. Her lips caressing his.
“You’re so beautiful, Victoria,” his voice pressed against her ears, low and steady. “So perfect.”
A shiver shot through her, a mix of fear and something else — something harder to name. She knew she should step back, should question the room, should demand the safety of her own home across the street.
But the drug blurred sharp edges, sanded down alarm into something dangerous like anticipation.
‘Lord, why can’t I feel fear? Why only this hunger?’ Her mind whimpered.
At the edge of the bed, Ethan’s hands started tracing the curve of her hips. His touch soft, gentle.
She felt a jolt of electricity at his touch, her body responding to him in a way she couldn't control. She stepped closer to him, her hands reaching up to touch his chest.
She could feel his heart pounding beneath her fingers, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a dark hunger.
Her breath came fast, shallow. She lifted her gaze to him, and for the first time that night, words slipped out she never thought she would say.
“Make me feel,” she whispered, voice breaking on the edge of plea.
He smiled — calm, certain, dark promise gleaming in his eyes.
“I will,” he said. “I will make you feel everything.”
He leaned down, his lips capturing hers in a fierce, passionate kiss.
She moaned, her body pressing against his as she kissed him back. She could feel his hands on her body, his touch sending a wave of heat through her.
She gasped, “oh Ethan!” Her body arching against his as he trailed his lips down her neck, his teeth nipping at her skin.
As his hands continued their sinful exploration of her dress, his fingers tracing the curve of her waist. The body she swore only belonged to her husband, now being trespassed upon.
Yet, she wanted more!
She shivered, her body aching with a need she couldn't understand. She felt him unzip her dress, the fabric falling away as he exposed her body to the cool air of the room.
Only the thin fabric of her matching red laced bra and panties concealed her nakedness.
She had once bought them for an anniversary trip she and her husband had never taken.
Two large areoles could easily be seen through her lacy bra. Her hard nipples pressed against the fabric, begging for release from their lacy prison.
She gasped, her body arching as she felt his hands on her skin, his touch sending a wave of heat through her. Her large breasts, which had once fed her daughters now begged for another man’s touch.
His hands gently and effortlessly unhooked her bra; her breasts sprang free as her it fell to her feet.
His kiss continued to pull lustful moans from her mouth. Her body fully on autopilot as she surrendered herself to the moment.
She felt his mouth on her, his lips capturing her nipple as he sucked and teased.
She moaned louder, her body writhing as she felt a wave of pleasure wash over her.
She could feel his hands across her body, his fingers tracing the curve of her hips as he kissed and licked and bit his way down her body.
His fingers capturing the band on her panties and gently pushed them down. He rose, then gazed deep into her eyes. “Kick them off.” He asked softly.
She kicked them to the far side of the room. She moaned again as he slowly slid down her body while continuing to explore her body.
She felt his mouth reaching her pussy. ‘Stop, Victoria, for the love of God, please stop this,’ her mind cried.
Instead of halting it, she gasped again, “take me, Ethan!”
Her body arching as she felt a wave of pleasure wash over her.
She could feel the intrusion between her legs, his fingers separating her pussy lips as his tongue licked her clit.
The touch of his tongue sending a wave of heat through her. Her hand grabbing the bedpost for stability while lifting a leg to give him more access to her.
She moaned deeply, part lust part animal desire. Decades of faithful Christian obedience screamed for her to stop. To remember her husband, her two daughters.
Victoria ignored the screams as she continued to moan. She no longer cared; she was lost to the moment.
Victoria's body was still trembling from the intense pleasure that had coursed through her veins.
Ethan's touch was like a symphony, each note resonating within her, leaving her craving more. Her body trembled at first then shook as a wave of pleasure crashed through her.
Her eyes snapped opened as for the first time in her life, she experienced her first multiple orgasms. She screamed, “fuck! Ethan! Fuck…”
He slowly rose as she struggled to remain standing. He gently guided her down unto the bed. Her eyes never leaving his as she moved towards the center of the bed.
Her inner thighs glistening in the light. Her panting was the only sound between them. Then she saw it! Her eyes grew large at the sight of his monstrous cock.
She licked her lips in hunger and need, while part of her felt she should be scared. An even smaller voice cried for a condom, but Victoria didn’t listen. She only wanted more.
Ethan moved on to the bed, as she spread her legs wider for him.
Like a dark cloud, his form slowly blanketed her. His shadow engulfing her fair skin.
She could feel the heat radiating from him.
He guided the tip of his cock forward towards the opening of her pussy. Like a monstrous ram at her gates, he pressed it.
Years of neglect had left her unprepared for this moment.
He did not just fill her; he stretched her like she had been when she lost her virginity as a schoolgirl.
“Fuck Ethan,” she protested. “It’s too big… Slowly.”
Ethan didn’t care, his lips were on hers again, a soft, gentle kiss this time, unlike the fierce passion that had consumed them earlier.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, her legs wrapping around his waist.
He slammed his cock fully into her!
“Fuck!” She screamed feeling herself stretched. She threw her head back as waves of pleasure and pain washed over her.
Ethan felt her pussy stretching, gripping his cock like a glove too small. He smiled as he pulled back again. And rammed her a second time.
“Slowly,” she begged through her panting.
Ethan's hand cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing against her nipples, distracting her.
She moaned softly, her body arching into his. He trailed his lips down her neck, his teeth nipping at her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake.
He groaned, his breath hot on her skin. His cock hitting the depths of her pussy and rubbing up against her cervix.
He felt her body trembling again as another orgasm was building.
Victoria, wife of over a decade, and mother of two, did everything she could to try to force her body to relax. His enormous size was beyond what her husband had. She panted, spread her legs, pushed her hips.
Anything to lessen the pressure, but nothing helped. She felt his cock moving in and out of her. Her moans filled the room, “god Ethan!”
Her body stretching to accommodate him. Her panting and moans were his victory parade.
After a few moments, he paused for a moment, giving her time to adjust, before he began to move. His cock pressed up against her cervix once more.
He pulled back once more, then thrusted back into her. His hips moving in a slow, steady rhythm.
She could feel every inch of him, the way he filled her, the way he made her feel complete.
Her hands grabbing the bed sheets and gripping them, “make me yours, Ethan!”
Their bodies moved in sync, a dance as old as time. The room was filled with the sound of their lovemaking, the soft moans and gasps, the wet sounds of their bodies coming together.
Ethan once more pressed up against the wall of her cervix and held the pressure there.
Victoria could feel the tension building within her, the pleasure coiling like a spring ready to release. Waves of pleasure and pain colliding in her mind.
He pressed harder, till he felt the tiny opening in her membrane give under his assault.
Her eyes shot upward as her body convulsed. Her legs dropped as she was rocked again by a third orgasm, she screamed louder than before, “oh my god…”
Her body gripping the head of his cock like a vice! He pulled back and laid in to her again. Pounding her with all his hunger and lust!
He looked down at his Queen. Years of patiently waiting, observation, and learning had now paid off. She was his, now and forever. He had claimed his first piece as his revenge was just starting to unfold.
She looked into Ethan's eyes, seeing the same desire reflected back at her. She could feel him getting closer, his body tensing, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
"Ethan," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Please, I'm not on birth control. Don't cum inside me."
Ethan's eyes darkened, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "I know you're not," he said, his voice a low growl. "Victoria, you will carry my child."
“I’m married, Ethan!” She shook her head, her eyes wide with fear. "No, please," she begged. "Don't do this to me."
She tried to push him, to stop him. But her strength was gone. All she could do was to run her claw marks down his back.
Ethan ignored her pleas, his hips moving faster, his thrusts becoming more urgent. Each time, crashing into her cervix.
She could feel him getting closer, his body tensing, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. She tried again to push him away, but he was too strong. He held her down, his body pinning hers to the bed.
"Ethan, please," she begged, tears streaming down her face. "Don't do this to me."
Ethan groaned as his last thrust drove past her cervix, his body shuddering as he came, his seed filling her womb.
She sobbed, her body shaking with the force of her tears. “No, no, no,” she whimpered. “What have I done.”
Ethan collapsed on top of her, his body slick with sweat. He rolled off her, pulling her into his arms.
She sobbed into his chest; her body wracked with sobs.
He held her, his hand stroking her hair, whispering softly, “I will take good care of you, Victoria.”
But she couldn't find solace in his arms. She felt used, violated, and she hated herself for letting it happen.
She hated herself for feeling the pleasure, for wanting him.
She hated herself for being weak.
“This can never happen again,” she demanded.
Ethan only smiled as his eyes saw the flashing red lights of the two silent witnesses. He knew she would be back, rather she liked it or not.