Page 84 of The Lies That Shatter
When Mortimer pulls his fingers out, my vagina tenses from the burn. He looks up at me with a big smile on his face, holding the bloody knife next to him. “That prepared you a bit, but I still don’t think you’re quite ready to take my cock yet. I’m very big. So, I’ll have to think of another way to get your cunt that bit looser.”
He winks at me, and the bile rises in my throat again. That’s when I feel a heavy pressure in between my legs. I almost don’t want to look for fear of what I will see, but that doesn’t stop me.
I look between my legs to find Mortimer slowly pressing the handle of the knife between my folds. The coldness from the object startles me as he pushes it inside. I gasp as he forces it further in. He holds onto the hilt of the handle, careful not to touch the blade. It wouldn’t exactly be a bad thing if he cut his fucking fingers off, but he’s careful to avoid that.
Shame seeps into my veins like ice, cooling me to the point I’m frozen. I daren’t move for fear that he might press the knife too far in and cut me. Mel told him to ruin my pussy, and this is clearly how he plans to do it.
I can’t help the desperate sob that slips from my lips as he roughly thrusts the handle inside until it reaches his hand. I’m not ready for the intrusion, and I feel like he’s ripping me open. I cry out, tears flowing down my cheeks freely now as the pain overwhelms me.
“Please…please, stop. Please, let me go. I can’t…I-I can’t take any more.” I hate the way my voice sounds so fucking smalland helpless. But what I detest even more is that I’ve stooped low enough to beg him for mercy, the one thing I promised I wouldn’t do.
As I imagined, he doesn’t stop. Instead, his eyes light up and he smiles, like he can now claim the victory he’s been seeking from the beginning. The triumphant look on his face is enough for me to lose the last little piece of hope I had left.
This time, when the darkness threatens to descend, I let it. I allow the emptiness to fill me, and I listen to the sound of my own tears. I don’t try to calm down, or to get control of myself. What would be the point? Things are only going to get worse, so I may as well just let it go.
“You’re a filthy slut. I’m going to enjoy fucking you raw with my cock. Tell me, have you had anyone in your ass before? I really hope you haven’t, as I’m going to tear you open, and I want to be your first.”
I don’t bother answering him. He’s not asking because he wants a reply. He’s doing it to humiliate me further. Which is impossible. I can’t sink any lower than I am right now. I’ve already given up. Hope has left the building. Anything more he does is just noise.
I can’t even point out where the pain is anymore. Every part of me seems to hurt all at once, and my brain is trying to power down, to go numb, so that I can’t feel anything at all, but it’s too late. The darkness descends, and the only thing I find myself wishing for is that he accidentally kills me. I don’t want to live with the nightmares of this day that I know will haunt me for eternity.
It feels like the knife handle he’s using is tearing up my insides, and I’m sure once he removes the object, it will be covered in blood. Mortimer’s movements are rough and intense, and since my pussy is drier than sand, every action feels like it’s ripping at my sensitive flesh.
BANG!
A loud noise that sounds far off in the distance grabs my attention. I’d almost forgotten about the mirror that’s actually a window, and I wonder how many sick men are on the other side of the glass, watching me. This is the worst experience of my life, and there could be men in the other room watching the show like it’s opening night in the West End.
I swear to fuck, if one of them has popcorn, I’m going to get Bree to slice each and every one of their cocks off, so I can feed it to them. I hate being reminded that there are people in this world that get off on the pain and humiliation of others. The sooner Bree puts an end to the flesh trade, the better this world will be.
As we hear more loud noises, and it’s clear they’re getting closer and closer to the door, Mortimer freezes. His vision flicks from the door, over to the blade that’s still sitting in my pussy, and then back to where the noise is coming from. His eyes flash with rage, and his cheeks redden as his lips turn to a scowl.
“Who dares to interrupt me?” he mutters, as he yanks the handle out of my vagina.
A loud scream rips from my throat when the pain of his rapid movement tears through me. He removes the object so quickly; it feels like he may have torn some of my vaginal wall in the process.
Even though the stinging pain is immense, I’m also incredibly relieved that I’m no longer being violated. As the pain from the intrusion lessens, it allows me a few moments to think clearly, and Mortimer’s question pops into my head.
He wasn’t really talking to me, but a smile crosses my lips as I reply to him, anyway.
“Finn.”
Mortimer’s eyes fly to me, his gaze fixed with mine as he glares at me for speaking, but I can’t hold back the smile.The noises are becoming louder, and it’s clear there’s a fight happening on the other side of the door. There’s only one person who would fight to rescue me—Finn.
Mortimer looks confused, and that’s when I remember that he has no idea who Finn really is. He thinks he’s punishing his wife’s lover for cheating on her. He’s completely oblivious to the can of worms he’s just opened, but I’m going to enjoy the look on his face when he finds out.
“You have no clue who you’ve messed with, do you?” My voice is hoarse and gravelly from all the crying and shouting, but I don’t care. He needs to hear this, and I want to watch his face fall.
“What are you talking about?” he snaps, twirling the knife around in his hand, almost like a nervous reaction.
“Finn isn’t who you think he is,” I reply.
Before I get the chance to embellish further, or to bask in his confused expression, the door slams open, bouncing off the wall behind it. Three people flood into the room in a blur, all dressed in black, and it takes me a moment to register who they are.
Black spots still dance around the edges of my vision, and when I try to lift my head to look at the figures who just entered, the dizziness overwhelms me, and the pounding in my skull worsens. I’ve lost a lot of blood, and if I were to hazard a guess, I’d say it won’t be long before I go into shock. I’ve probably got a concussion too, from the blow to the head. Not a medical emergency, but if I don’t get help soon, it may become serious.
“Stay back,” Mortimer snaps, as he reaches out to press the blade against my throat.
The three figures freeze, their arms raised with their guns pointed at Whitlock, and it gives me the time I need to assess the room. I look around, hoping to see him, but I can already tell Finn isn’t one of the three men. I can feel whenever he’s in aroom, and I don’t feel him now. But I know he will be close by. There’s no version of reality where he doesn’t come for me.
