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He is the devil.

Nineteen…

My body is cold. Why am I so cold?

Twenty…

And numb. Maybe I’m finally dying.

Twenty-one…

I’m so tired.

Twenty-two…

Almost there….

Twenty-three…

Twenty-four…

Now what?

Troy stops, and I am hardly conscious. I can feel blood running down my body and dripping onto the floor. When I hear the belt clatter to the concrete floor, I feel his hands grip my waist and step back a bit so he can bend me over. This strains my shoulders, and I whimper as more pain ripples through my body. A broken scream echoes through the room when he slams his dick into my ass. I can feel the way my body rips at a feeble attempt to accommodate his size.

“You are mine,” he growls and thrusts harder.

“You will always…”

Thrust!

“Be mine!”

Thrust

“I will fucking ruin you for them.”

Thrust

“…broken whore.”

Thrust.

Every thrust, he offers another insult. Another punishing stab to the gut. Eventually my body gives up, and I hang limp on the chains as he holds my body up and rams into me over and over to get his revenge against Julian and Calder. I will happily take this on so that they are not harmed. I was always doomed to this fate. I think I was stupid to ever think I could be free.

When he comes, he pulls out and jerks himself until the hot liquid splashes across my lower back and fire seeps into the cuts. I groan in response, but it’s weak. I am weak.

When he takes the chains off of me, I expect him to drop me to the floor. Instead, he has a chair waiting close by that he stands me on before wrapping the chains around my neck.

He’s giving me a way out.

Mercy.

This is merciful compared to healing.

A way to tell me that I will always be his, and this is how I can change that.

I was never meant to be free.