I try to hold it back. I bite down on my lip, but the sound that escapes me is not a word“no”; It is a moan.
Shame burns through me.
This is wrong.
I have no control over my body. My eyes squeeze shut as I try to pretend this is a dream.
But every stroke of her tongue proves it is not.
He is the devil. A true narcissist. Everything he does is for his own pleasure.
I open my mouth to scream, but nothing comes out.
Tears slide down my cheeks as I lock eyes with him. He groans while touching himself, head falling back, mouth open as he growls. His shoulders tense and shake as he jerks off in the chair, lost in his own satisfaction.
He thinks he is a king—a man with power and control over women. And none of us tells him no. He feeds on the power he holds over us. He feeds on misery, on need, on the way our bodies betray us even when our minds fight for our freedom.
“No need to resist, Emily,” he says softly. “They won’t stop until I tell them to. It gives them hope they will live.”
Hope.
The word feels so unreal now.
I am trapped in a cage with a monster wearing the same face as the man my body is falling for. My thoughts spiral, clawing at each other. My heart fractures into pieces, and I have no idea how to put them back together.
Hope is something I no longer have.
I want to close my eyes and let him finish it. Let him kill me. Let him take my life. I know that once he is done with me, surviving will feel impossible.
I break in front of him while he moans in pleasure.
Then my legs twitch.
Strength slowly returns, creeping back into my muscles. Whatever drug he gave me earlier begins to fade. I force my body to move. And with a sharp push, I shove one of the women off me. She falls hard to the floor.
She is fragile, like porcelain. The sound echoes as her body hits, bones snapping from the force.
The second woman steps back, eyes wide.
“Look what you did, Emily,” he says, his voice calm as he rises from the chair.
He comes closer, completely naked now, except for black sneakers on his feet.
His cock is hard in the air as he strokes himself while approaching me.
He shoves the girl away like she was nothing. And she doesn’t fight it. She is so malnourished that she barely stays standing, like one wrong move could snap her in half.
He spins me around, his hand spreading my ass cheeks apart. When I face forward, a large mirror fills my vision.
I see everything. Every movement. Every choice he makes.
As he holds me open, he spits down on my asshole and forces himself inside.
I scream in pain, my eyes squeezing shut, but he only laughs, thrusting in, inch by inch, without slowing down.
A hiss tears from my throat as my back arches, pain rippling through me.
Then I feel another set of hands.
