Page 21

Chapter twenty-one

Ashia

‘Dear Agony’ – Breaking Benjamin

Four Days Later

I wake up to an amazing feeling. I would think it was a dream, if it wasn’t for my shadow leaning over me. He has his fingers inside me and as I try to moan out, I realize my hands are bound above my head by a rope, and one of his silk scarves is tied around my mouth. How does he keep doing this while I'm asleep? I used to sleep lightly, but I suppose I'm exhausted from all of the rough sex the past week and a half. I breathe and pant through my nose as I feel my orgasm begin to gather in my stomach, but then he withdraws from me.

“Hello, little wolf.” He greets me softly. Like he’s saying ‘good morning’ and not winding my body as tight as a snake’s grip. His teeth graze his lip as he runs his hand from the middle of my breasts down my body, spreading my arousal over my naked torso until he runs his fingers into me again. Causing my body to tense, just to retreat once more. Then he swiftly moves away, his face retreating out of my sight, so I look down at the end of the bed. He’s standing on his knees between my legs, towering over me like a gargoyle guarding a cathedral.

“Be a good girl and wrap your legs around me.” He says as he lifts my hips up. Angling me so my pelvis aligns with his. I try to roll back onto the tops of my shoulders, like you do as a kid when you’re trying to keep your legs straight in the air, but I’m limited by my hands being tied.

The stretching in my arms and shoulders burn as I’m still sore from the past several nights. At least last night they were tied behind my back and not strung up like this. His hand glides from the top of my vagina down onto my abdomen and through to my stomach. Spreading his fingers apart to feel the entire area before tracing gently circles on it.

“You still worried about me putting a baby in here, little wolf?” Fuck yeah, I am. I always had to be really careful with Cooper. He wouldn’t allow me to be on birth control, so Serena had to sneak me some Plan B’s every now and again. I never had a scare though, thank God. I was starting to think he was shooting blanks. But Damien? No, this man is going to have twenty kids as much as he comes. “Good.”

He thrusts in me, sinking down to the hilt where our bodies connect, and I swear he’s reaching my throat. He is quite large, porn star large, in girth and length. I feel as if he’s tearing into me every time we have sex, but holy hell, after the first few thrusts, it’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt. So filling. Euphoric. It really makes me angry when he deprives me of my orgasm, just to build it back up. However, the release after he does this a couple of times is so strong I almost pass out each time.

Moans escape my sore throat through the cloth, and his bruising grip tightens just before he starts moving. He guides my hips, pulling me against him to match every thrust. Again and again, with a force so powerful I can only see it as determination. Determined to get himself off, to get me off, and I know he’s dying to come inside me again. His muscles are taut and strained. The veins in his forearms and neck showing perfectly, and the more I stare at his God-like figure, the more aroused I become.

My pussy clenches at the sight of his sweat-beaded forehead. I throw my head back as I pant through my nose, the climb building in my stomach rapidly. Is he going to let me finish this time? I'm almost to the cliff and about to fall over. The impending orgasm so close that my legs begin to tremble around him. The rope sears and burns my skin from how tightly I’m gripping it. The pain quickly enhances my pleasure, and just as my body does that brief pause before release, he pulls out.

God damnit!

I release a growl through the scarf in my mouth, and tug at the rope in a bratty fit of anger. Though, I’m not sure if it’s because I want to touch myself and finish what he started or choke him. Possibly both. At the same time.

“Eyes on me, little wolf. You're going to watch as you come all over my cock.” I bite the bullet. Doing as he says and looking up at him. “That’s my good girl.”

My eyes water from the sexual frustration, and the lack of extreme orgasm that was about to happen. Though I can’t manage to tear my eyes away. He pushes inside me again and moves at an agonizing pace. The sight is truly something to behold. How his veiny, thick penis slowly disappears and then reappears into my pussy. My arousal thickening as he starts to move harder and faster. Making his way to his previous pace.

I see the muscles and veins in his neck flex as he fights the urge to throw his own head back in pleasure. That determination showing again as his eyes glue themselves to the picture of the veins on his dick disappearing and reappearing with every plunge. A vein even twitching with his cock as his own orgasm rapidly approaches. The motions tugging and dragging my body down to him as if my pussy is trying to swallow him completely.

His thrusts become even more powerful, and the sound of our bodies slapping together is almost louder than our grunts and groans. The way he moans seeps into my senses and b-lines straight to my core. I clench myself as tight as I can around him, and I hear his own grunts stall.

“Fuck, baby! That’s right! Milk me dry!” He reaches down with his hand to painfully twist and pull on my hard nipple. Sending more waves of pleasure through my body.

I feel my pull run back and hit me like a freight train as it flies off the railing into bliss. My body tightens as much as it physically can, and it begins to shake as I feel our combining juices run down from my pussy, over my ass, and fall onto the bed. I'm tired of washing sheets every day, but I suppose it’s a good price to pay. I feel him shake beneath me as he comes, and that might be hotter than anything else. The fact that I pleasure this man so well intensifies the warmth already returning to my core. Almost preparing me for another round. He may command me during sex, but I feel I could bring this man to his knees if I needed to.

He gently removes himself, a gush of his cum running down after the motion, and puts me down before he crawls up to see me, face to face. As he pulls the cloth out of my mouth, I can finally catch my breath. The heavy pants predominant through his kiss as he releases the ropes, freeing my hands. I lay there for a moment, trying to gather the stars in my vision to see him clearly.

“I need to tell you something.” He says, almost hesitantly. “I probably should have already, but I didn’t want you to worry.” He says with heavy breaths as he sits up and pulls my hands with him, helping me up as well.

“Okay? What’s up?” I sit up, straightening my legs out on the bed to loosen the muscles.

“The night I killed that man from the bar, I found out Cooper was working for Dust.” I feel my heart sink, but I try to school my features.

Of course he was, I’m not surprised. Just like I thought, evil never changes. Cooper was a very small time ‘pot’ dealer during our time together. Or at least he insisted that’s all he sold. I was never completely convinced, but of course, I wasn’t allowed to ask questions. It only makes sense he kept up his bullshit after our hearing and he moved away.

“Now they’re looking for him. That’s the main reason he came back after leaving Seattle. He was supposed to take over the territory and run it. I'm not sure what all of that means yet, but I wanted to let you know. Also, we don’t think the guy from the other night was Dust. Probably just cracked out of his mind.” He forcefully chuckles, trying to lighten the mood, and I nod my head at him. Drug dealers will do whatever they want, I know that. I know that all too well. Just like I know how addicts act. When they’re high, nothing makes sense or matters more than what they’re thinking of in that exact moment in time.

“Okay.” I say as emotionlessly as I can, even though this new information terrifies me. I feel the shiver run down my spine, like an old friend greeting me, and I try my best to conceal it from Damien. However, the slight shift in his gaze alerts me to the fact that he noticed. He always notices my slightest movements, and I should’ve known better than to try.

“Why do you say it like that?”

“Drug dealers are hard to read. It depends on how high they are. I imagine fifty percent of the time they don’t even remember Cooper, so it’s probably not a big deal.” Of course it is, I know it is, but I meant what I said. All too well. I remember those years with my parents. They forgot they had a child; I imagine it’s not much different for acquaintances. Sometimes it’d be days before I saw my parents again. Always wondering where they were, if they were alive, or if they had finally been arrested for more than a day.

“I'm sure it’s going to be fine.” He says gently, trying to console me.

“Yeah I'm sure it is.” I look down at the bed.

“What’s wrong, Ashia?” I don’t know what’s wrong. I just have this feeling in my gut that things are about to get very bad. It could be from the sex and newfound discoveries, but this is more of a pull from my sense of danger.

All of this has brought back a lot of thoughts, and a lot of feelings. Not even so much of Cooper, but of my parents. All of the times they abandoned me or abused me were shoved in the back of my mind somewhere. I just thought I buried them deeper than this, and I'm angry with myself for allowing them to resurface so easily. I haven’t talked about my parents in a very long time, and I’m not about to start now.

Why does he keep asking me that? And I might just be a little sensitive, but why so formally to? It makes me feel like I’m in trouble, or I’ve done something wrong. I hate the feeling in my chest and limbs when my full name is used.

“Why do you do that?” I shoot him an aggravated look.

“Do what?” He shoots back with confusion.

“You either call me pet names, like little wolf, baby, baby girl, or you call me by my full name when everyone else calls me ‘Ash’. Why?” He shakes his head in disbelief.

“Why would I shorten something so beautiful?” He thinks it’s beautiful now, but I'm sure in a short few months he'll hiss through his teeth when he says it. It’s not beautiful, it’s a lie. I don’t miss how easy my name is to say with malice, or how lips would curl as it was spoken from peoples’ mouths.

“Well, I'm glad you like it.” I say, being sure my attitude is still present.

“You don’t?” He asks surprised.

“Does anyone like their name?”

“I like mine.” He says with a smirk.

“Of course you do, it’s sexy, and well thought out.”

“You don’t think Ashia is? I’ve never heard of anyone else with that name.”

“No, actually I hate it.” I snap at him, and he looks at me with worry in his eyes as he puts his hand on my thigh.

I take a deep breath, preparing myself to unveil even more to this striking man. I can’t believe I'm about to tell him this, the only other people that know are Serena and her parents, but that’s only because they were present when this story spewed out of my mother’s mouth. I shouldn’t feel this anxious about sharing with Damien anymore. He never seems to ask because he wants to judge me or think less of me because of it. He’s genuinely curious and seems to want to know so he understands me better. My inner turmoil just doesn’t allow me to see that clearly.

“My name was supposed to be Ashley, but my mom was so cracked out when she filled out the paperwork, she misspelled it and wrote Ashia. She left me in the nursery the whole time she was there after giving birth to me. They found her cracked out in the parking lot and made her fill out the forms. She never cared to fix it.” His face falters, and his brows crease. I look back down at the bed, unable to meet his sympathetic gaze. “I only know that because my mother showed up to one of the Anderson’s cookouts high as a kite and told the story. It may not even be true, but it sounded convincing enough.” He moves his hand from my leg and up to my face. Lightly grazing my jaw before he grasps my chin in his hand and pulls my face to him. His lips graze my own in a light, caressing kiss, and then he pulls back.

“I told you I was going to make you love yourself again, and we’ll start with that.” He bites the sensitive area under my jaw as he stands up. “Get on your knees.” My eyes widen.

“What?” He flashes those bright blues at me with that devilish grin, and my gaze shifts to his enormous cock standing at attention and staring right at me. “I don’t see how this is supposed to help me feel better about myself. How the hell is that supposed to fit in my tiny ass mouth?”

“Well, it fits in your tight pussy, so I guess we’ll figure it out.” My face instantly flushes. I’m pretty sure that’s a compliment, but with the dirty way it spills from his mouth, I’m not sure how to react.

Honest truth? I’m scared to death of that large penis shoving it’s way into my mouth. I'm not good at sucking dick. Cooper told me all the time how mediocre I was. He swore he ‘tried to teach me’, but when I wasn’t good enough, he’d degrade me, and even sometimes punish me for it. I’d have to stand off to the side and listen as he told his friends how horrible I was, and how I had no idea what I was doing. Well, yeah, no shit. I had never put a dick in my mouth before Cooper.

“Don’t worry, baby girl. I'll talk you through it, and when I'm done, you'll hear me call out for you like the Goddess you are. You didn’t choose your name, but that doesn’t mean you can’t grasp it and mold it into something extraordinary. Soon, you won’t cringe when you hear your own name. You’ll feel powerful. Invincible, even. Knowing that it’s only you who could be my downfall.” How does he do that? It’s like he hears my negative thoughts and turns them into something pragmatic. I do as he says, and I stand on my knees on the floor. Feeling completely and utterly exposed kneeling before him completely naked.

I look up to him through my lashes, and marvel at how he inhales a shaky breath. His eyes drag from my eyes, down to the floor, and back. Clearly looking me over, and the hunger that flashes in his gaze is one of total obsession. His neck is strained, and his mouth is parted like he could dive down at me any moment now.

“Breathe through your nose, it’ll be easier.” He says through gritted teeth as he nods reassuringly.

I place my hands on his toned pelvis to prepare myself. Running the pads of my thumbs along his hip bones to feel the softened skin there, and then I lightly grab his base, which is still wet from my lubrication. Deciding to take my time, I take his head in my mouth. Taking in the salty and sweet mixture of our combined fluids, and I’m surprised to discover that I don’t mind the taste.

My tongue starts to navigate the anatomy of his cock. Grazing the tip and swirling around to feel the veins and tissue in its reach. I lick under his bulb, flattening my tongue to fit the shape of his penis, and that’s when I hear his sharp inhale. Not one of pain or discomfort, and the groan he lets escape tells me that it’s one of pleasure. The sound was quick, but longing. Like he’s waiting patiently for more, and that gives me a confidence boost. He loves what I’m doing to him. Learning how we both taste, and that I’m taking the time to explore the most sensitive parts of his body.

Using that mixture of arousal as a lubricant, I begin to stroke the rest of his shaft. Wrapping my fingers around his length and caressing him with a moderate hold. I slowly make room for him in my mouth by moving my head back and forth, allowing it to enter more and more with every head bob. I lick his shaft and under his tip as slowly as I can, so he can really feel the sensation as my tongue rubs over every vein and ridge.

It’s only a few passes before his large hand graces my cheek with a sweet caress, and then moves to the back of my head. His fingers gently curling and grasping the silky strands of my hair.

“Fuck, Ashia.” He moans as his grip tightens slightly, and hot damn, if he wasn’t right. The way he purposely spoke my name like a prayer drives me forward. Pushing my head further and taking him in deeper than I have been. Diving in so deep, I feel as he reaches the back of my throat and curls around my stretched cheek. My lips close fully around him, and I breathe through my nose, as instructed, to fight my gag reflex. Something I’ve gotten used to battling my eating disorder.

“Relax your throat, baby girl.” He commands, his voice coming out rough and hoarse. I do as he says, taking a deep breath through my nose, and letting him slip further down my throat. Another moan rings out through the room, and his arm trembles as he tightens his grip on me even more. “You’re so good to me. God damn, Ashia, where the fuck have you been my whole life?” I feel as he begins to move my head for me, setting his own rhythm as he fucks my mouth.

Drool begins to pool and run out the corner of my mouth, lubricating his dick even further. I pull my hand away from his hip to wipe it away, but then he wraps his fingers around my wrist so lightly, it’s almost endearing, and leads it back to his hip. I caress his hip, much in the way he likes to do to my face and get the urge to touch him more. Navigate the other sensitive points displayed in front of me.

I move my hand up and down his thigh. Feeling the strong and ridged muscles there, before following the bone in his hip, and down to his ass. The muscles and skin there are also firm. Yet, smooth and more supple than I had originally anticipated. I knead the flesh a few times before traveling back down and between his legs again. Exploring his scrotum and gently massaging his balls. The set barely fit in my hand.

Using my newfound knowledge of his sweet spots, I put the sensations together. My hand working his balls while my tongue and mouth tag team his dick. He lets out a string of curses and moans as he begins to thrust into my mouth even faster. Using my body to chase his release.

As my eyes begin to water and drip down my cheeks, I look up at him. Curious to see if his face mirrors his body’s reaction. The moment we make eye contact again, it’s like something snaps in him. I'm not sure why looking up at him would be something that great for him, but I watch in surprise as he throws his head back and releases a loud, guttural moan. His balls tighten in my hand, while his breaths and moans become staggered, as if he’s fighting against his own urges.

His cock twitches in my mouth, and with a loud roar of my name, pumps of hot, sticky cum explode out of his tip and coat my mouth before sliding down my throat. Ropes of cum fight with each other to race down my throat as I try to swallow him, but it’s too much for me to get down. As he continues to bob my head back and forth with his hand, I feel as it oozes out of my mouth and trail down my chin.

Once his cock has finished its eruption, he deflates and loosens the grip on my hair. As I pull away from him, I lick any evidence off his tip and my own lips as I can. My face immediately burning up with the embarrassment of looking so filthy. I look around, scouring for something to wipe my face and chest off with and realizing there’s nothing before I look up at him again. He's breathing heavily, his head still thrown back in satisfied bliss. The same look on his arms as they dangle at his sides.

“God damn, Ashia. You are phenomenal.” He then reaches over to my windowsill, grabs his shirt, and wipes my chin for me. Gently and sensually as I start to stand, but he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me in close. Pressing his body against mine and allowing me to feel his cock twitch back to life. It's like making him come only turned him on more. Doesn't he ever get tired? “That piece of shit really made you feel bad about that divine mouth?” He nudges his face against mine in an adoring gesture. “I don’t understand how you think so low of yourself.” He says as he begins to kiss under my jaw again.

“I guess once you've been told enough times, you start to believe it.” I say honestly. He retreats and grabs my chin again. Bringing my gaze back to him.

“Well, you'll have the rest of our lives to hear me praise you instead. I know how hard it is to release those caged thoughts, but soon, you’ll never think of them again.” He tightens his grip before he turns and falls onto the bed in a lazy demonstration. I yelp as I land on top of him, not wanting to cause him any discomfort, but he keeps his tight hold. Unwilling to loosen it. Once he adjusts our position at the correct spots in the bed, I curl up next to him, and he immediately runs his fingers through my hair like I like it. Caressing my scalp like it’s his way of rewarding me for a job well done.

“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You’d never doubt yourself again. No piece of art, or beautiful sunset could compare to you.” He says before he plants a kiss to the top of my head and settles in. Never letting up on the motions in my hair, and it's no time at all before I fall back asleep.

“Now I'm serious Ser, if I tell you to leave, you need to leave. No questions asked okay?” I ask as we continue to walk down the cracked sidewalk.

“It’s going to be fine Ash! We're just going to grab you some clothes. You can’t have a birthday sleepover with no pajamas! You still have that cute pink pair mom and dad gave you right? I have the perfect slippers to go with it!” She throws her arms out as if the slippers were the best thing on the planet.

“Yes, bossy pants, I still have them. Is it really still considered a ‘sleep over’ even though I stay with you half of the time already?”

“Of course it is! It’s your twelfth birthday! We're going to have cake, and tacos, and mom and dad have a surprise for you. Then we’re going trick or treating, and because mom and dad are SO cool, we’re going to a haunted house after! It’s going to be so much fun! That’s what you wanted right?” Her eyes widen, and as her smile does the same, I know that she’s just as excited as I am.

“Okay, I’m pretty stoked. That sounds amazing!” I say, adding a small jump to my steps.

“I know right!?” We finally walk up to my house, and I notice an old, dark orange, beat-up Ford in the driveway. A tingle of nervousness crawls down my back, and I immediately regret coming here.

“Oh, crap.” I say under my breath.

“What?”

“J.P.s here.” We stop at the gate to our run-down, fenced in front yard. Something doesn’t feel right. Granted, it never does at my house, but this is darker, even angrier than normal. “Stay out here okay?” I turn to her and plead.

“Ash, you don’t need to go in there alone.” She takes my hand in hers, and squeezes for reassurance. Though, I’m not sure any can be found at this place.

“I'm serious, Ser. Stay here.” I stare intensely at her, almost begging her, and she reluctantly nods. I trudge forward, and the unmistakable screech from the gate opening gives me away immediately, so I quickly walk up to the front door and walk in. Loud, hateful voices reach the front door, and I already hear the arguing pouring out of the living room.

“I’ve told you Mark! Two hundred or you’re not getting shit!” The harsh voice booms from the living room.

“Alright J! Let me figure it out!” I speed walk past them and head for the stairs. The creaky, ready to cave-in stairs give my position away, and when the yelling stops, I know my dad noticed. “Where the fuck have you been!?” Crap. I walk up the stairs as quickly as I can, but I hear heavy steps following behind me. Trudging toward me with the force of a raging bull. I walk into my room and quickly grab the half-ripped duffle bag out of my closet. Desperate to grab what I need and leave. “And just where do you think you're going? Back to your new family? You think the Andersons give two fucks about you?” He spits at me.

“It’s just a slumber party.” I say quietly, trying not to make him even angrier. “Do you need to me to clean before I go?” I offer, hoping that will alleviate some of his rage.

“A slumber party? You mean those sorry for shit parties where teen girls get railed all fucking night? I figured you'd be whoring around already, just like your mother.” I haven’t had sex, not even thinking of it. Boys my age are idiots. Except Cooper, he’s really nice to me, but having sex is not something I'm worried about doing right now.

“Did you need something from me, Dad?” I turn to him and try to say as accommodating as I can.

“How much money you got? I know your new daddy likes to give you some. Shit, you're probably fucking him to.” I cringe at his accusation. Ewe. What the hell?

“He stopped giving me money after you took it the last time.” That’s a lie. Mr. Anderson always gives me money in case I need food or something. I try like hell not to spend it, or even have it on me for that matter. Just in case of situations like this. I normally give it to Ser and ask her to hold on to it for me.

“Bullshit! Where is it!” He lunges towards me and starts checking my pants pockets, shoving his hands into each one just to be sure. Then he pulls the front of my jeans, and I instantly push him away. The slight force somehow causes him to stumble. He’s clearly drunk, the smell of the whiskey lessens the further away he gets.

“I told you, Dad! I don’t have anything!” Screw the pajamas and screw him. Nothing is worth dealing with him anymore. I walk right past him and start walking down the stairs again, only to feel his large hand grab my upper right arm. I spin around, almost smacking him with my hair as I turn to face him.

“Who the fuck said you could go anywhere!” He yells.

“Since when do you care!” I snap my head to the sound of heavy boots back towards the bottom of the stairs. J.P. is stalking up to us with a fire in his gaze that I can’t quite place. He’s just as revolting now as he’s ever been. His face has all sorts of sores, his teeth are yellow and rotting, and he’s so skinny he looks like his arm would snap at the smallest inconvenience.

“Damn girl, I always forget how fucking pretty you are.” He’s always given me the creeps. For years now, if I knew he was coming over, I’d hide before he got here. If I didn’t know? I’d run out onto the roof outside of my window. I can’t escape the feeling of dread when I’m near him, and that certainly isn’t going away now.

“That so?” I hear my dad say, almost as if he sung it. “Care to make any other payment options then?” I snap my head towards him. A shot of icy fear shooting down my back. He wouldn’t…

“Dad…” My nerves begin to get the better of me, and I can’t help but start to shake. Before I can even think of running away, his grip on me tightens.

“Two hours for two rocks.” My dad offers, and I look back at J.P. to see a dangerous, evil grin spread on his face. My breath stalls, and my body runs cold to the realization that not only is he considering this horrific trade…he’s going to take it… I have to run. I’d rather they kill me.

“That’ll work.” He growls demonically. I rip my arm from my dad, shove my way past J.P. and sprint through the front door. My heart is beating so fast I might have a heart attack, and the sight of Ser standing outside of the fence is so shaky I can’t tell where she’s standing. My heels dig into the walkway as I quite literally run for my life.

I feel a large weight fall on my back, which sends me falling to the ground. The concrete of our sidewalk scrapes and scuffs at my skin on impact, and a pain radiates through my hips and knees.

“Ash!?” She yells at me. The tone in her voice clearly concerned, and all I can do is pray that she doesn’t try to help me.

“Get that little bitch too! Show her daddy that even her clean ruffles can be feathered!” I hear my dad yell, and another wave of frozen fear runs into me.

“RUN SER!” I watch as she frantically takes off down the street. Pumping her frail arms and legs as fast as she can. She’ll go get her dad…he’ll save me…

In the corner of my vision, I see J.P.s boot stomp against the grass, and I instinctively reach out for it, causing him to fall to the ground. Hard. I can’t let him get to her. She’s all I have…

“You fucking bitch!” He kicks out, and it lands on the side of my head. Setting off whatever hidden bomb was in my head and activating the ringing after effect.

Everything is fuzzy, and I can’t help but hold my hand to my head before I feel two hands grab my ankles and J.P. grabs my wrists. They lift me off of the ground and carry me back into the house. I try and struggle as best as I can, but I can’t get free. No matter how hard I thrash.

As I feel the tight hold on my limbs retreat, a soft brush of air runs over my body, and then a hard slap of the wooden floors cracks on my back.

“Your two hours starts now.” I then feel a large weight on top of me, and I look up to see J.P.s disgusting, wrinkled face smirking at me. I reach out and try to claw at his face, anything to get him off of me, but even as I scratch and scream, it doesn’t stop him. He starts by ripping the front of my shirt off of me.

“Daddy! Daddy, please! Don’t do this!”

“Cooper! Cooper, please! I'm sorry! Don’t do this!” My pleas mean nothing. He’s already started his latest torture and cut my clothes off of me with my shears. Me begging never does anything to him, I'm not sure why I even try anymore. But this time is different. I’ve never seen him this angry. Every other beating or every time he forced me to have sex will be nothing compared to this…I know it…

“You think that little bitch can help you now?! If you insist on keeping her around, maybe we should bring her into our fun! Don’t you think?!” He screams, and his spit splatters across my face.

“I'm sorry! I'll do anything you want! I'll cut her off! Just leave her alone! I'll quit my job, okay!? I'll text right now and quit! It can just be me and you, just like you want!” I beg, practically holding my palms together in a symbol of prayer.

“You think that matters!? You and that little slut have been flaunting your asses to every man that walks in the door! You're helping her fuck around? How do you think that makes me look! My girlfriend being the whore of downtown!” He painfully grips the skin of my thighs and forces my legs apart. My body shivering at the cool air brushing against my non-stimulated sex.

“I didn’t do anything Cooper! Please!” I feel as he rams himself into me with no type of lubrication, natural or otherwise. It burns…my whole body ignites in the fire of his hatred, and I can almost feel myself tearing. His grip on my right wrist tightens as hard as it can, and I feel as he reaches over, and grabs my shears with his right hand. The light reflecting off of the metal is doing very little to block the horrors I’m witnessing. He presses his weight into me as he relentlessly thrusts into me again and again.

“This will teach you to fuck me over!” I watch as he opens my shears and presses them halfway up my right arm. Digging the blade into my sensitive skin and dragging it. The burning and piercing radiate through my whole arm as he continues his ruthless fucking.

I can’t move through the pain, and as much as he’s going to punish me for screaming, I can’t help it. I yell out as loudly as I can, hoping and praying that someone will hear me. My throat instantly burning and matching the pain radiating through my limb…