“Do you realise how much your resistance turns me on?”
He’s a bastard. An absolute bastard. I buck my head back, slamming it into his face and he groans as if he enjoys the pain.
He hauls my hands up, tying them together with a chunk of rope that he fixes to the bedframe. And I’m rendered immobile, defenceless, completely fucking useless.
He pulls my legs, straightening my body as I try to curl up.
“Don’t fucking move.” He says, before standing at the end of the bed, staring at me.
I can’t look at him. I can’t bear the thought that I’m here, trapped, imprisoned with this monster and for the next I don’t know how many hours, he’s free to do what he likes.
I can feel his eyes on me. I can hear his breathing, he feels like beast about to pounce, a devil about to devour me whole.
“Don’t do this.” I gasp. I know it’s pointless. I know the man has no conscience. No shame. He’s as bad as my husband, no, in so many ways, I think he’s worse. Far fucking worse.
He tilts his head; something flashes in those deadly eyes of his. He turns, stalking to where the sideboard is, to where those toys are.
When he comes back, I can see the thing in his hand, and it makes me whimper more.
“Don’t.” I plead again. “Please, don’t…”
He clambers onto the bed, yanking my legs apart so forcefully it hurts. As he settles himself between them, my face radiates with the shame. He can see me. He can see all of me. I know he’s seen me naked before, I know he’s seen that part of me, but this feels so much worse.
He drags the toy between my labia. It’s made of some plastic or other. He hasn’t lubricated it at all and I don’t know whether to feel relieved or not that he’s left the bottle where it is, that it’s untouched.
“I’m going to fuck you.” He says, meeting my eyes. “Why wouldn’t I, when your husband has laid you out so nicely for me?”
He drags the toy up, making slow deliberate circles that, to my horror, doesn’t even feel that bad.
“I’m going to fuck you, Malkta. And because you’ve been such a little bitch, I’m going to make sure it hurts.”
I scream as he plunges that toy into me, as it gets stuck on something inside me and he uses all his strength to force it past, to bury it as far as he can.
My legs kick out. My body physically locks up with the most excruciating pain.
He drags the toy out, stares at it as if he’s trying to see whether he’s made me bleed already.
“You know what I have noticed.” He says as he focuses once more on that awful pressure point. Circling. Tormenting me. “You don’t come. All the times he fucks you, all the times anyone of us has touched you, not once have you come for us.”
I grit my teeth. Like a woman would ever come when she’s being held down and forced to do things she doesn’t want.
“Is your cunt broken, is that it?” He asks, staring between my legs. “Are you so damned frigid you don’t even know how to get off?”
I clench my teeth together so hard, refusing to reply, refusing to give him anything.
He throws his head back and laughs and it feels like I’ve waved a red rag at a bull.
“I’m going to make you come, bitch. I’m going to make you come so many times it’s going to hurt. I’m going to hold you down and force you for hours. I’m going to bend your body, bend your mind, I’m going to have you weeping, crying, begging me to stop and you want to know the best bit…”
He reaches up, grabs my throat, and squeezes just enough to make my heart stop.
“When I finally break you, you’re going to scream my name like I’m your god.”
“Like fuck I will.” I hiss.
He smirks more, laughs at my response, and then turns the damned toy on.
I can feel the vibration, I can hear that buzzing sound, and I swear that noise will follow me, will haunt me, will be playing in my head while I’m trapped in the very pits of hell.
