Page 20 of Scarred in Silence

I giggle to myself, grinding into him harder. He grabs my hips firmly and groans into my ear.

“Come on,” he says in a low voice.

I turn to see him. He wears a Grim Reaper costume. I dressed as a Devil—how fitting. I smile up at him, and he has painted his face like a skeleton beneath his cloak. I take his hand and he takes me up the stairs. The bass thumping beneath the soles of my shoes and into my core.

We walk into an empty living area.

“On your knees,” he whispers against my neck.

My body moves on its own as I sit on my knees in front of the mystery man. I wet my lips, anticipating what’s coming. I started sleeping around when I was 14 years old, always with people around my age, but I’ve always had a fascination with older men. He can’t be over 25 years old. He’s not that much older.

My heavy lashes flutter open as I look up at him. He pulls his hard length out of his pants and strokes it. He drops a trail of spit down onto the head. He uses his thumb to spread it around. I open my mouth, and he plunges it deep into my throat. My moans muffled by his length.

He fists my hair and pushes my head down. I can’t breathe. The pain feels good. Pain means I am alive.

“Fuck,” he groans as he pumps in and out faster. My throat aches from his size, pounding into the back of it. Slobber trails down my chin and onto my lap.

He pulls himself out of my mouth and forces my head back to look up at him.

“Your mouth is fucking perfect. Let’s see what your pussy feels like.” I stand up and spin around, spreading my legs and placing my hands on the couch. He lifts my skirt, and his fingers trail up and down the small fabric covering my most sensitive area.

“You’re so fucking wet for me,” he says in an erotic tone.

My skin buzzes as the drugs continue to pulse through my body.

He slides the thin material over, and he pushes himself inside of me. I let out a loud moan, unable to control myself. It has never felt this good before.

Whatever I took. It makes me feel everything. My heightened senses keep me from wanting to return to reality. I’ve never felt more alive.

A bright light shines from behind, casting out shadows on the wall in front of me. He leans down and whispers in my ear, “I think my friend is jealous. Can he have a turn?”

I go to say no, but a hand meets my ass with a violent slap. I jerk forward, but the pleasure overwhelms me. I moan against my mind’s will. I shouldn’t let it happen, but I can’t stop it.

I feel him enter me, and the Grim Reaper comes to sit next to my face.

“You’re such a pretty fucking whore,” he praises.

Tears sting my eyes as I let the man take advantage of me. The man exits, and I feel another set of hands touching my body. No. I collapse onto the floor and curl up into a ball.

The light gets closer to my face, and I see someone holding a phone, recording me.

“Such a good little whore. Letting us take turns.”

The Grim Reaper kneels on the floor next to me, running his finger over my cheek.

“Too bad you’re not done yet.”

“No!” I shout.

He chuckles

He flips me onto my stomach, as the other two pin down my arms. I try to kick and scream, but no one can hear me. The music is too loud.

He forces himself into me as he pumps fast. My stomach twists in knots. Bile threatens to rise in my throat.

Suddenly, my emotions tank. I’m not happy. I’m disgusted. I’m a whore. No one can hear me scream.

He finishes deep inside of me, and the camera gets close to my face. Snot and tears cover my face. I want to go home. Fuck this.