His hand pressed me into the ground, the cold ground licking at my cheek.
I heard the zipper of his jeans and the sound of him dragging the material down his legs. He didn't bother with his t-shirt, but his boxers were lost with his pants.
The tears I'd held back caught up to me, as exhaustion from fighting back to stop this from happening took root. His fingers dug into my hips and he hauled me into a new position. Ass up, head down.
He lined his cock up at my entrance, his prominent bell brutally pushing through my folds. I still begged him to stop as he forced himself inside me. I still cried while he ignored me, thrusting deep and hard enough that I'd ache for days.
He whispered something about using me and my sweet pussy to release his frustrations. And I cried harder, realizing he'd let his father get into his damaged mind. . . and he didn’t even fucking know it.
His hands wandered around my body, over my small bump and up to my breasts, harassing my hardening nipples.
I tried again to squirm away as he drove in harder, stretching me.
And he punished me by going harder again. By pulling me back on his shaft, forcing me to take him deeper than my body was prepared. His hands moved lower, one of them disappearing between his legs. I didn't know where it went until he pushed it inside me, double penetrating me with his finger and cock.
My pussy opened wider for him, but my heart shut down, breaking in the moment.
I hated that I was wet for him when this started, my body betraying me to take a little of the brutality away.
But I wished for that treason now.
I was dry, making this so much more physically fucking painful.
“Drying up, my little whore? God, you're no fun.” He chuckled to himself, relishing in my agony.
I clenched my teeth; my molars felt like they'd grind to dust any second. I clutched Jesus tighter, tempting my failing strength to break his neck for not saving me.
Karma hit me hard. Hell's finger pulled out of my pussy—scraping the walls on its exit—and wrapped around my throat. He used his tight grip to hike me up onto my knees, bringing me more pain. I screamed again, and he, in turn, fucked me harder.
I wanted to fight. I wanted to kick. I wanted this to all be over. But I couldn't do any of those things. And screaming was taking the last of my energy. So, with my fingers holding onto the cage, I let go of Jesus and watched him fall, tears trailing him, while Hell raped me.
He forced his cock deep up inside me. A high-pitched howl climbed up my throat, but I swallowed it back down with a hiccup and a sob.
He continued to thrust his dick inside me, with no rhythm, just pain, trying to get deeper and deeper each time, raping my pussy until I bruised internally.
I'd given up fighting, focusing on my breathing, because I thought my pain might become too much, stopping it at any second.
One breath, in and out, two breaths, in and out. . .
He rutted faster and then his cum spewed out inside me, his body spasming against mine.
He was still for a moment, and I didn't move, either. His cum leaked out of me, splashing down on the cold floor where I'd sleep tonight.
I took a deep breath. My eyes rolled shut, so very grateful that it was over.
But it wasn't.
It was only another minute before he started thrusting again. His energy andfrustrations back.
Hours passed by. An internal clock ticked on in my head.
Blood droplets leaked from my most intimate area. I sat against the wall of the cage. My downcast eyes were puffy from crying so much as I stared over my outstretched legs, down to my toes. . . no polish on my nails. This time last year, that would have been a big issue for me. But now, it was so trivial and irrelevant, I paid it no attention.
Hell sat on top of my cage, fully dressed, causing the structure to bow. His stillness alone threatened to squash me. His agitation was still strong, but luckily, after four rounds in the cage, his cock was too sore to go again. His knife danced along the bars of the cage, gifting me a haunting and unnerving melody.
“Hell.”
His knife pointed through the gaps of the cage. “Ask for him again, I dare you.”
