Page 4

Aisling

T yler grabs my arm and pulls me toward the skate park bathroom. My heart pounds like it’s going to beat right out of my ribcage. A tingle works its way up my spine as his fingers dig deep into my arm. From fear? Excitement? I’m not sure.

My stomach flips as I start to feel the pain radiating from where he’s holding me. He’s never grabbed me like this before, and I’m starting to not like where this is going.

This is what I wanted. Right? No… not anymore.

“I…I don’t know if this is the best idea right now, I…” My words are swallowed by Tyler’s hot mout h on mine as he pulls me into his body, his hands gripping my waist like he needs this, like he needs me.

He grabs my wrist, squeezing so hard I know it’s going to bruise later, and drags me through the bathroom doorway.

“Come on, baby. It’ll be quick, but I can’t promise it will be painless.”

His eyes darken as he slams my face against the wall, the force so rough that it leaves my head ringing.

I try to scream, but am stopped by his massive hand covering the bottom half of my face, effectively cutting off my airway. His other hand starts to roam up the back of my thigh. My breath hitches, and my thighs close on instinct.

“Tyler sto-.”

The sound of the bathroom door being opened causes us both to freeze, cutting my pleas short. I glance over and freeze. A stranger from the park. My blood runs cold. My pulse stalls. Even the air feels heavier .

“Ah, Justin, I’m glad you could join me, bro. I was just about to show this little bitch why she shouldn’t be walking around the skate park like this. Practically begging to be fucked, am I right?” Tyler greets the man, snickering like the whole situation is just some sick joke.

I squirm against his grasp, but it’s no use. His body pushes harder into me, forcing me against the damp wall. I’m a big girl, but he’s even bigger– and now that his friend is here, my chances of getting away are slim to none.

I clench my hands into fists so tight my nails dig crescent-shaped moons into my palms, and I’m practically drawing blood.

At least I’ll be high for this.

My breath hitches as I feel his fingers brush against my panties, running trails up and down the seams, his fingers grazing my center.

“Ah, such a dirty little slut. She’s already wet for me, bro.” He pulls his fingers away to show his friend, and a shaky breath escapes my lips .

Of course my stupid fucking body would do this to me.

I hear a dark chuckle from behind me as Tyler leans into my ear, pushing my chest even harder into the bathroom wall just as his large hand forcibly rips my fishnets from my body.

“I’m not done with you yet, whore.” His voice is dark and primal, sending a chill straight to my toes.

He growls and my pulse quickens as I feel him line his cock up with my entrance.

Without warning, he forces himself inside of me. A broken sob escapes my lips, my pain a song only the walls can hear.

The sting of him ripping into me over and over again is something I know will be ingrained in my mind.

He slams my face into the wall, causing me to look at his friend standing in the corner, my vision starts to go white around the edges, and bile rises in my throat.

His friend Justin has his pants around his ankles, cock in one hand and a phone in the other. I start to say something in protest, every scream trying so hard to break free. But my thoughts are cut short by the force of my face bashing into the wall again, the cold cement screeching deeper.

Blood runs down my face, dripping onto my torn tank top as Tyler slides out of me. I release a sigh of relief and instantly realize my mistake.

I try to back away from him, my palms out in protest, but he’s too quick. He grabs the back of my neck and pushes me down to my hands and knees in front of him, my skin breaking against the rough surface. I can feel the sharp pebbles digging their way into the cuts.

Fuck , I’m going to have to clean those later.

“What are you doing?! Tyler! Stop!” I scream, my voice raspy as my heart beats ruthlessly in my chest.

The tears are flowing freely now, and I don't have the strength to hide them anymore.

“Stop crying. You act so fucking innocent like you aren’t the one who made me do this!” He shouts, his anger blossoming into something intangible.

I try to shuffle away, but my muscles don’t have enough energy in them to get me very far very fast. I feel the heavy weight of Tyler’s hands grabbing my waist before he places his shins on my ankles, effectively pinning me down.

“Maybe now you’ll stop pretending you don’t know what you are,” he growls as he lines himself up behind me.

A feral scream bursts from my lips as I feel his dick tear through my asshole, shattering the last shred of hope I had of getting out of this in one piece.

Time stills, and suddenly I’m not me anymore. I’m not Tyler’s or any of the men I’ve fucked before. I’m empty, something for someone to use and dispose of once they’ve had their fill. A lifeless body bending to their will. Alive but not.

Just a dream dressed in flesh and bone, beautiful only when I’m breaking beneath them.

The tears don’t stop falling down my face, a small puddle forming on the cold tile as he assaults my ass and pussy over and over again. Flipping me around into every position he wants me in.

At some point, his friend joins, as well as a knife that Tyler had stashed somewhere. I can hear the tearing of my panties and my skin as he drags the blade across my flesh, creating bloody reminders of his touch wherever he wants.

By the time he’s done, it feels like hours have passed. I can barely feel the bottom half of my body when he stands over me, covering my stomach in his final release. It’s stickiness mixing with the blood and dirt coating my body.

I feel so fucking disgusting.

His eyes darken as he looks down at me.

“My dick looks so good covered in your blood, slut. Too bad it didn’t make very good lube. That probably would’ve helped, huh?” He taunts as he leans down and spits onto my chest, the warm liquid spreading over me like a disease, seeping its way into my being .

A constant reminder that he was there.

Tyler stands abruptly, the movement so quick it causes me to flinch. He stares at me for just a moment before releasing a deep chuckle as he begins to straighten his faded band tee. Turning around, he heads toward the door, his friend following not too far behind.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back for you soon, little slut,” he says as the door clicks shut.

I hold my breath, the sudden silence is deafening–my least favorite enemy.

I reach for the edge of the sink and pull myself off the grime-coated floor, my muscles screaming at me in response.

Everything. Fucking. Hurts.

My eyes drift up slowly to the mirror, a reflection I don’t recognize staring back at me.

Tattoos of all shapes and sizes cover my body, bruised and scratched through.

Blood and tears coat my face. It’s a macabre piece of pain, the layers of dirt and tiny cuts showing a battle I lost but never wanted to be in to begin with.

I grip the edge of the sink so hard I know my knuckles are turning white. I’m trying, searching to find some sort of stability as my world starts to spin. My breath hitches, and I can feel my muscles starting to panic.

No. No. No.

Not now.

Breathe, babe…breathe.

I try to distract myself by fixing my makeup in the mirror, while somehow also trying to avoid my own gaze as much as possible–a goal that’s not easily attainable. The tears linger at my lash line, waiting to spill over, but I won’t let them. I refuse.

He’s not getting any-fucking-thing else from me.