Even awake, all I saw was darkness. But the metal beneath my body, and the way the vehicle jerked to a stop, was all I needed to know that I had lost the battle.
I quickly closed my eyes as the hood was ripped from my head. I tried to pretend, tried to make them believe I was still unconscious. But the feel of a large hand roughly grabbing my breast told me they didn’t care if I was awake or not.
Something told me they might not care if I was even alive.
“This is the bitch I want,” a rough voice from years of smoking said. Another hand grabbed my legs, pulling me across the floor, then throwing me over his shoulder.
As he carried me away, I heard the sounds of a struggle. I opened one eye in time to see Karlyn punch one of the men. And another man, taller, bulkier than the others, slapped the back of his hand across her face, knocking her to the floor.
The door closed before I could hear or see anything else. My body was tossed onto a bed, and all thoughts of Karlyn disappeared as the man in front of me, a president patch on his cut, sneered down at me.
His leering gaze told me my fate. I didn’t have to guess. I knew that look. I’d seen it on Freeway’s face when he came to our house. He’d drag my mother to her room while I sat in front of the television listening to her screams.
The same screams that I knew would be torn from my chest in a matter of moments. Tears filled my eyes as I thought of my mother, and the secret she never told anyone. The experience we were about to share. I had truly become my mother.
I scurried back against the headboard, a desperate attempt to stave off what I knew was about to happen. Lying to myself that I would survive this. That King would find me.
Save me.
Protect me.
The irony of what I was begging for wasn’t lost on me. The thing I had been fighting him on for years was the one thing I wanted from him now. I yearned for his possessiveness and unforgiving need for control.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” The president laughed as he grabbed my ankles and pulled me back. I flipped myself over onto my stomach, kicking at him, my hands grabbing the blankets on the bed.
My fingers tore through the worn material as I frantically sought purchase. I reached out for the headboard as a hand slapped my ass. The force caused me to wince, my hand drawing back, and I lost any chance of pulling myself away from my tormentors.
I sobbed as my clothes were ripped from my body until I lay on the bed. Bare for their eyes to look their fill. Exposed tothe many men that surrounded the bed as the president, named Skinner, ordered, “Tie her up.”
Ropes bit into my skin at my wrists and ankles as the men rushed to do their president’s bidding. All hoping, I knew, to be offered a piece of the prize that lay before them.
I stared at the ceiling as I futilely pulled at my bindings. All the while knowing that my fate was sealed. Even if I was able to loosen the ties, I had nowhere to run. I didn’t know where we were, and there were too many men to escape from.
I closed my eyes tightly when I heard belt buckles hitting the floor. Tears spilled down my cheeks with each resounding thud as the men removed their clothing. I tried to close my legs, but the ropes that secured me to the bed were pulled tight, preventing me from moving.
I prayed that maybe, just maybe, if I couldn’t see them, I wouldn’t feel them. It was a foolish prayer; one I knew would go unanswered.
Laughter rang through the air as I cried out when rough hands squeezed my breasts. Calloused fingers invaded me, and I screamed as the untrimmed fingernails tore at the delicate skin between my legs.
“She ready for me, Striker?”
“Dry as a fucking bone, Prez.”
“Just the way I like it.”
The fingers inside me retreated, only to be replaced by someone rougher.
“She’s tight,” Skinner boasted. “King must be all bark and no bite if she’s still this fucking tight.” Skinner pulled his hand back and placed it on my thigh as he kneeled between my legs. He leaned over me to whisper in my ear. “This all could have been avoided if King had just given me what I wanted.”
Then, he slammed his dick inside me, as I sobbed. The laughter and cheers only roared louder, drowning out my screams as I begged them to stop.
My voice grew hoarse and my sobs stopped. I had nothing left. No tears, no voice. I lay there tied to the bed, staring at the ceiling as the men surrounded me.
Once more I closed my eyes, blocking out the sight of Skinner rutting inside me as his men played with their dicks. Trying to disappear, to block out the horror, I thought of King. I tried to remember the times he came to me in the dark, the conversations we shared, the trust we’d built. Because for all my anger, I trusted him. I loved him. I should have told him. Should have said the words when he did, but I let my pride get in the way. Now I would never have the chance.
No matter how much I tried to block it out, the sounds were inescapable. The grunts and groans of the men as Skinner thrust inside me, halting only once he came. Then, the feel of cum splashing against my skin as they all finished after their president.
“You get that?” Skinner asked as he pulled out of me.
