“Shh, babydoll. It’s okay. Just relax and let me love you.”
Her lips turn down a little as I bury myself deep inside of her, feeling my balls slap against the cold countertop.
I wonder if she’s registered any of the words I said or if it’s the intrusion that her body objects to, as if it knows no one is supposed to be there when she’s like this. I’m almost inclined to think it’s just the words, though, because she settles, her face smoothing as I begin to move, testing my depth, watching her tight pussy swallow my cock with each experimental thrust in.
“Good girl.” I praise her. “See? It’s not so bad. You were made for me… for this.” I gasp as I feel her clench around me, like she’s agreeing with that sentiment.
“Fuck.” I shudder, canting my head back to rein in this feeling of being so encompassed, so… cherished.
My ruined little whore.
My perfect fucking doll.
My gorgeous victim.
Soothing a thumb over her lips, I watch them move, following the direction I push them, and grip her cheeks, hollowing them out so that she’s making fish lips at me. They’re pillowy and soft, and I can’t resist tasting them, forcing them to move beneath me, biting them.
I hook her legs over my shoulders, letting our lips fall from one another as I pull back to focus on hammering into her slick cunt, breathing through the need for her as I piston in and out.
This time when I come, she’s perfectly still, no signs of life as I grip her hips and bury myself so deep inside of her that I’m not sure I’ll ever come out. I know I don’t want to.
My perfect doll.
My wonderful prize.
She’s the sweetest gift, my most deviant sin.
And she’s all fucking mine.
8
Amber
I've been trapped back there for ages, in a hell of another man's creation.
Every time the door opens, my heart stops beating, trying to play dead. Maybe if I was, he wouldn't have any interest in me. Maybe if I was, he'd walk back out and go crawl between his own wife's legs instead of mine.
Everything hurts, but the worst of it is that Parker doesn't come for me anymore the way he used to. He used to slip into my room after the monster left, and he'd hold me against his chest and make everything hurt just a little less. His presence didn't do anything to stop the assaults, but it at least was a reminder that someone cared... that I wasn't as hopelessly alone as I felt I was.
I don't know the last time I saw him. I don't know why he stopped coming for me. All I know is that I'm trapped here in this bed, unable to move, unable to speak, and unable to fight back. Not that I would. I never fought too much before. I couldn't fight when he was twice my size, when I was trapped inside of his home, when the law told me I belonged to him.
I ran away twice... the first time I did it by myself. I went to school with everyone else, but then instead of getting on the bus to go home, I walked. I walked right past the park, past the suburban hellscape that was the man's neighborhood, past the police station, and to the bus station. I'd saved every penny I found for months to afford a bus ticket, and the only one that was in my budget was to Georgia. I'd never even thought about Georgia as a place, but suddenly my heart soared with thoughts of peach trees and southern hospitality.
The bus was pulling out of the lot when the police car went zooming in and pulled us over. They dragged me off the bus, and Eric held me against his chesttightly, whispering in my ear that he'd kill Parker if I told anyone what happened. So, I didn't.
I let him put me in the back of his car and thank the officers for their help, lamenting how worried he'd been. He stopped before we ever made it to the house, and what he did that night made me swear through tears I'd never run away again. But I did.
It was about two years before I tried again, this time with Parker by my side so he couldn't use him against me. He had just turned eighteen, only enjoyed his freedom for a few days, but that time without him had already been an unbelievable hell. He took me so that he could help me. And he paid for it when someone reported seeing us and the police came. They arrested him on charges of kidnapping, locked him up, and charged him. I didn't see him for weeks, and when I did, he was still recovering from the beating Eric gave him.
I got free.
I remember that.
I got free, legally and mentally. I've lived a life, but I can't think of any of it right now.
All I know is that I was free... so why am I back here?
9
