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She's out on that damned bridge again. It's the beginning of the new year, and like clockwork, you come out to see her. Her face is red from what must be another crying fit; considering she must have come from the city again, she must have spent the new year with another man. Another year, another disappointment it seems.
You greet her carefully, anxious in your own right as your heart flutters erratically at the sight of her. You want to protect her so damn badly that it makes you ache, but you want to take it slow for her sake. Because that's what Muffy deserves. So you take it patiently, listening as Muffy slowly spills her woes onto you again. It seems you were correct, and this man had the audacity to cheat on your Muffy with some younger woman? What a jerk. What an unworthy jerk, to have had Muffy's heart right in his hands and crush it like that.
How dare he. How dare he. You listen to her vent, like a good lover should.
You imagine all of the things you can do to that jerk, if he ever sets foot in this little place. Not that someone like him likely would, if he couldn't appreciate a beauty like Muffy's, but you run one of the most successful farms in the area. You've always prided yourself on your ability to care for other creatures, and your ability to make the most wonderful crops. He'd make good fertilizer, you think...or maybe not. After all, such a rancid person would likely only go on to produce rancid crops. It's a nice thought, at least.
Maybe you could give it to Vesta as a gift. After all, it's healthy to encourage competition, and Vesta's positivity would certainly get rid of the rancid vibes.
A thought for later, perhaps.
Muffy thanks you for listening to her, fixing you with a pure-hearted smile. You're happy to help her, of course. Anything to bring that pure and beautiful smile back onto her face.
...It's been so many years of this, though. She's likely just going to go back to the bar if you let her, but after so many years, maybe it's time you tried to be a little forthright. It's only fair, right? Just getting to stand in her presence is enough for you, but that's not enough for the trust she's given you.
You want to do so much more, and it's this time that you off-offhandedly mention that you've been having some problems yourself. That for as wonderful of company as Takakura is, you don't get visitors very much; you've honestly felt pretty isolated from everyone. It shocks Muffy to hear that, given how much of a social butterfly you've come off as to her, but...
She seems to smile afterward, suggesting a girl's night in at your place; you delightedly accept, smiling brightly at the thought.
Muffy's at your place like clockwork at the appointed time. Always punctual, your perfect, perfect Muffy. She's still in that gorgeous red dress that stands out so beautifully on her, and as you bring her to the kitchen and make her something non-alcoholic, but fruity. Strawberry juice is one of your favorite things to make, you tell her as she gets settled, because strawberries are one of the best fruits to grow during the start of this season. They're sweet, they're ripe, and with the way you grow them, they're delicious.
It's while she's talking about the kind of drinks she mixes at the bar that you add a few extra things. Only to make it more delicious for your darling, of course, but...maybe it'd help her be more vulnerable with you, too. Only if she wants to, though. It's her choice in the end, but a little help never hurts, right? It's only for her benefit, after all. Maybe she can finally see what it's like to truly get taken care of this way.
The two of you talk and drink, and the subjects vary so much they'd make anyone else's head spin. Not yours, though. You let Muffy control the pace of the conversation as you listen to her, and you love the way she talks so animatedly about others. The way she seems to brighten at the mentions of various patrons, travelers who sometimes come to the valley and take a load off. It's so cute watching her talk, watching her rest her cheek on one of her hands as she uses the table to support it.
It's so cute as she keeps talking, mentioning everyone in town at least once. She loves this small place with all of her heart, you find, and you can't help but smile. So much love in her heart, so much that the right person would never even think about leaving her. You never would, and you know that. It's what Muffy deserves.
She keeps talking, taking sips of the strawberry juice and finishing her cup as you pour her another one easily. She thanks you and keeps going, eyes starting to flutter a bit as she talks about her dreams. Her dreams to marry for more stability in her life, her dreams to one day make it to the city herself. You sneak quick looks down at her legs as she talks, watching them bounce like there's a steady rhythm in her head. It's so cute, even if she clearly doesn't intend for you to see this.
You watch her keep talking, starting to repeat some of the stories she said earlier. She's a little confused now, though she takes another drink from the strawberry juice and you decide to talk instead. You talk about your own dreams for the future, of the farm you want to raise and the ways you want to help the valley grow. About your animals, about anything to keep that cute, desperate, almost transfixed gaze on you. You can practically see beads of sweat starting to form on her head, but you continue nonetheless. It's only fair, right? This is a dream you'll both be sharing in time, after all. You want to share all of it with her, but it's hard to ignore just how cute your love's face is like this. Half-lidded, trying to keep focus while bouncing her leg like the desperate beating of a drum.
Eventually, there's a break in the conversation where Muffy asks where your bathroom is. Ah, poor thing; that'd explain the constant leg bouncing. You rub the back of your head apologetically and point it out to her, and while she's a little unsteady--yawning a bit, making a comment about this whole dating situation probably finally getting to her--that she starts her unsteady walk toward your bathroom.
But that's not what you want. No, that isn't what you want at all. You want her to feel vulnerable around you, and losing her mental faculties and her physical ones...
Well, what a better way to see someone at their most vulnerable?
You've already been prepared as you go to one of your drawers, a rag and a strange smelling liquid at the ready. Muffy barely even notices it as she tries the bathroom door, looking to you after trying to pull and push her way in with confusion. You look surprised; you thought you'd just installed that bathroom lock, and you can't help but be frustrated that it's jammed. You ask Muffy to keep trying it while you go to locate a screwdriver, knowing very well you won't.
No, this is what you wanted all along. You dab the rag in the liquid, taking soft steps behind Muffy as you step closer and closer to the object of your affections--before cramming the rag in her face, using your other arm to press her beautiful body close to you as she starts to struggle, yelping at first only to let out a scream and start to writhe in your grasp, limited only by her drowsiness and her desperation. Realizing she has to balance everything happening to her all at once gives you plenty of opportunities to force her to keep breathing in the noxious rag, and she's so cute as her eyes start to flutter in genuine earnest. She may have kicked off one of her own heels in the process, one of her bare feet trying both to hold herself upright, and to try and fight you off.
It's not a surprise that she misunderstands your intentions. She doesn't understand that she needs someone to be vulnerable in front of, someone who can see her for all she is and accept her lovingly. Who better than you, who has listened to her woes so many times? Who better than you, who can love the girl who seems unable to be loved by anyone?
You start to drag her away from the kitchen, and into the little sideroom you had built. You don't want her to pass out completely, of course; you end up removing the rag and drop it in the kitchen, using your hand as her muffled cries only make you want to kiss her more. She's so vulnerable right now. You need to make sure she knows she can just be herself around you, no matter what form this may take.
It doesn't take you long to tie Muffy to the small sideroom bed, pressing her face sideways into the pillow as you make sure her ties are secured. Arms behind her and hands completely rendered immobile, legs tied to the bedpost and spread, and posed so her cute butt is up in the air. She's still squirming; you made sure she couldn't fall asleep entirely before you had this fun little trust exercise with her, after all. She's so much more beautiful like this, vulnerable in ways not even those men would be able to see. Your hands dare to trail up and down her thighs as she attempts to move away from you, but you only touch her more firmly in response.
She's so beautiful. You don't want her to run away. You don't ever want her to run away, and you can accept whatever she feels toward you. If she really doesn't want this, she'll tell you. She can break out and tell you. And if she doesn't, then she wants it. You'll make her see that.
(That's what you tell yourself, even though you have her mouth tied and taped shut. You've stuffed one of her nicer pair of panties in her mouth, so silky and smooth that you can see why she likes them. It'd been so easy to sneak a pair or two over the years, but this one you'd picked out just a few days ago for this. You made a promise you'd only use it if her heart was broken again. Doesn't she realize that? That you're only doing what you need to, in order to make sure she's loved?)
You press your fingers into the panties that Muffy's currently wearing, hearing a muffled yelp as she practically bucks into your hand. Tries to buck away from it, because it's too overstimulating, it's too much. Too much to hold onto everything she's drank, too much because she doesn't understand how wonderful it'll feel to be vulnerable around you. You don't let that deter you as you press your fingers further in, rubbing against her clit as you feel it out and relentlessly tease it, stroking it, rubbing it, causing her hips to jerk in all sorts of delightful and honest ways.
The beautiful red panties are such a nice touch to her ensemble, and you watch a little damp patch form on them that you want to coo over so much. Cooing would mean you miss the way that Muffy whimpers into your touch, tears starting to form in earnest as she tries to speak to you. It's so muffled and cute that you almost want to kiss her, to let her know how good she's being for you. You always knew she was perfect, but seeing her like this, so desperate for you, so desperate for relief has you using your other hand to pet her plump rump gently, causing her only to thrash again as her muffled pleas fall on deaf ears.
Beautiful, so beautiful you can't stand it as you just keep rubbing, Muffy's muffled pleas turning to sobs, to cries that attempt to form words as that pretty makeup of hers stains your pillow. You start to get bolder, engulfing her body with yours as you sniff at her a bit. She's always been so damn pretty, and she even smells nice too. She went to all of the trouble of showering before arriving, and she smells so clean and soft. Fruity, almost. Probably some shampoo she brought back from the city? The jerk probably didn't even appreciate it, you bet. You will, though. You can't get enough of her scent, how cute she smells, and as Muffy keeps desperately trying to buck away from your hand and you follow her, you get an idea.
If she doesn't want this, she'll stop you. But why would she, when her vulnerability is so damned cute? The hand that was rubbing her, you bring it upward, resting it on her abdomen as she seems almost relieved for a moment--before her panicked thrashing begins anew, when you start to press your whole hand down onto where her bladder would be and just start pressing, her noises frantic as she tries to thrash in earnest to no avail. Is she even trying, though? Seems to you like she's just really getting into it, and you can't help but be pleased as you decide to peel up her luscious dress, palming back around to her stomach to press down, down, down--
A choked sob escapes when Muffy ends up wetting herself, crying out beautifully with a sound that's delightful to your ears. Yes, she finally let herself go. She accepted it. If she didn't want this, all she had to do was say so. Right? So this is okay. She trusts you with this vulnerability, she trusts you enough, maybe as much as those useless men. She can finally see that you love her, as you kiss her cheek, kissing those tears as she attempts to tear her face away from you. She's just embarrassed, the poor thing. It's only natural.
But you look to those now wet panties, and now the real vulnerability can start. You grab the pillow from underneath Muffy's face, causing her to startle a bit as her face is pressed firmly into the mattress; it doesn't take you long to get that pillow between her legs, and you barely have to coax her into spreading herself onto it. You do make some adjustments; you do ensure that the pillow allows enough friction for her precious clit, and you help her grind into it. It must feel so good for her; you can hear her whimper as you press your hand against her back and the pillow, helping her hump the pillow to get that no doubt ungodly amount of friction she craves. She practically ruts into it, her sobs and moans a delight for the senses as you help her, encouraging her along and praising her, barely able to contain yourself as you help her chase the bliss she could never get anywhere else.
It doesn't take long before Muffy comes undone, and you're so proud of her, you tell her that you're so proud of her. You tell her she doesn't have to worry, as you free her legs and start to peel off her sodden panties, keeping her arms bound as she starts to come back to herself a bit. You go over to your special drawer, where you've kept the panties you've snuck over the years. It doesn't take long to clean your lover up and get them back on, especially when your grip is stronger than hers. You tell her you're proud of her; you tell her a lot of things. How much you love her, how much it's been paining you for so many years to keep this a secret as you watched her destroy herself time and time again. Frantic words practically spill out of your mouth as you bring her close to you, holding her tight as she continues to try and struggle out of your grip, but you laugh as you tell her that you're so happy this is what she wants too. That she let you do this, that she trusted you with something so precious. You tell her you love her, over and over again as you kiss her tear stained face, over and over again as you praise her, tell her that she's so perfect. That you wish you could be together forever, with nobody else standing in the way.
It's at that which Muffy starts to thrash and struggle in newfound desperation, but as you caress her cheek, you tell her that you know life doesn't work like that. The valley wouldn't find this acceptable, no, not at all. You run your hand down her body, tweaking a nipple between your fingers as you softly explain that you want nothing more than to love her like she deserves to be loved. That if you had it your way, Muffy would never be hurt again. That any of those useless jerks who'd rejected her would be mulch if you ever get your hands on them. Because she deserves the world, and you want to give it to her more than anything.
But, you emphasize, sighing slightly. You let the word hang in the air for a moment, before getting off of Muffy for a brief moment to adjust yourself and reach for something. Her legs begin to thrash again, but you climb onto her again, sitting directly on her abdomen as you flip her over. You've always been stronger than her; she could probably defend herself better if she had more access to her hands. City girls tended to be crafty; you knew that. After all, that's how you ended up getting even half as good as this.
And it's here that Muffy sees something that makes her expression pale, eyes widening when she spots the knife in your hands. She goes so pale when she sees it, trying to thrash her arms to get them free as you look down to her with the utmost affection in your eyes. She's beautiful like this, dressed in red and trembling, and you go down to kiss her terrified face tenderly, brushing the knife against her face as you explain that you want her all to yourself, and you're going to keep her forever. That you won't even let Griffin get in the way, nice guy as he is. The knife finds her neck, a genuine sob ringing out of her. You can't let anyone else have Muffy, because she's too good for them all. Only you get to see her like this. But the valley would never recognize your union...
With a smile, your free hand kneading one of her breasts as you trail the knife down her body...you promise her that you have a way to keep you two together forever.
You tell her you love her.
They call it the most gruesome murder that Forget-Me-Not Valley ever saw. Dr. Hardy had been horrified when he found the dead body in that old chicken coop. He wasn't sure what was worse; the dead chickens who had clearly been killed in advance, in some measure of preservation...or the body inside, laid like she may have merely taken a snooze in the coop until one got closer.
Dr. Hardy couldn't even repeat what he saw in there.
The valley clears out as fast as possible. Some want to find who did this, following the reasonable trails they can. Takakura is one of them, and so is Griffin. They vow to find justice for the woman killed, the beloved woman who may have been bad at romance, but didn't deserve this fate.
Some simply leave to parts unknown.
Either way, the valley is said to be cursed now.
You could hardly care less, however.
You end up finally finding a place to rest after a long while of running like hell on bare feet, looking out to the ocean over the cliffside. The early morning run had bought you some time, time to be together with this magnificent view. It's gorgeous, and you find yourself babbling to nobody in particular as you remark about how beautiful nature is. Remark about the things you'll be seeing together, with 'her'. Because with her by your side, you're unstoppable. And you made a promise to her, of course.
You look down to the jar in your arms, the deep red making you smile with affection. It makes you think of her. You'll be together forever now.
You jump backwards, protecting her heart with your body as you plunge to your end.