At this point, I know it’s probably enough to put him away, but I can’t stop now. I still have questions. I have to know…
“Why Kyle? Why did he have to die? You were friends, Mark!”
“Friends?” he sneers. “We were never friends! Your fucking brother thought he shat gold. Thought he was better than me. And when he saw me looking at you, he let me know it. ‘Keep your hands off her, Whitlock…you don’t deserve a girl like Andrea.’ Cunt,” he snorts. “I showed him, didn’t I, darling?”
I can feel my blood heating as he speaks. The fear makes way for sheer rage at the thought of what he did to my brother. To me.
“You did it all to spite him?” How could anyone be so driven by resentment?
“Oh, not only to spite him, Andrea.” He lowers his mouth to my ear. “I fucked you for fun. Popping your cherry was pure entertainment…the way you fawned over me. You practically begged for my cock.” My blood boils. He got me drunk. I was a child. But he goes on, oblivious to the sheer hatred roiling in me. “It was fun seeing how stupid you were then. And it’s been fun seeing you do it again now.” He’s laughing again, the vile sound reverberating through me.
Without thinking, I spin my head, open my mouth, and snap my teeth together. Satisfaction surges as they sink into soft flesh. I gnash through it, hearing him scream as something tears free in my mouth. I’ve bitten a chunk of his ear off. Blood streams down my face as he rears back, clutching the side of his head.
“You fucking cunt!” he screams. I have barely a second of victory before his fist connects with the side of my head. It doesn’t stop me from laughing, however. I hear my laughter continue as he lands another blow to my jaw. It’s like listening to someone else. “Stop laughing. Stop fucking laughing!”
His eyes are wild with rage, blood pouring down the side of his neck as he lands a flurry of blistering blows to my head and my face. I don’t know if I black out or if he stops because he has no strength left, but when I open my eyes again, he’s straddling my torso, his chest heaving.
My breath comes out in a gurgling hiss, and I realize the blood in my mouth is my own now. I can feel a molar cracked at the back of my mouth. The inside of my cheek is lacerated, and my right eye is already swelling shut.
“You’re going to be sorry for that, cunt.” He climbs off me, breathless. He clutches his fist in his other hand, running his fingers over knuckles that are battered and bleeding from the force of the beating. Blood from his ear is soaking into the collar of his shirt, red marring crisp white.
I stare up at him in defiance, then deliberately spit out the torn chunk of his ear. I can see his eyes flicker with rage again. Then he glances up at the mirror over my head. My face is a bruised, bloody mess.
“Not so pretty now, are we, Andrea?” he rasps out. “Poor little slut. Won’t catch too many men looking like that.” Then he grins. “Which is why you’ll enjoy the little gift I have planned for you.”
I start to frown in confusion, but the movement has sharp pain radiating through my eyes. It’s becoming hard to focus on his face. My medical training tells me I probably have a concussion.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I manage to slur past a split lip.
“Oh, I’m not going to touch you, Andrea.” He turns to the door, watching as it opens. A man walks in carrying a tripod and a metal case. He looks at me impassively for a moment, then gets to work. It’s obvious I’m not going to get any help from this guy.
It takes me a while to figure out what he’s doing until he steps away and gives Mark a nod. There’s a camera on the tripod, the lens aimed directly at me.
“Tell the others we’re ready,” Mark says to him, then turns to face me again as the man leaves the room.
“So, you’re probably wondering what’s in store, don’t you?” He’s moved back to settle in his seat again. He crosses his leg over his knee and clasps his hand over it. I don’t answer him. My mouth hurts too much. Though the blood running down the side of his face gives me a small glimmer of satisfaction. His next words quickly dampen it. “I’m planning to torture your darling Mateo a little…before I kill him, of course. And part of that is going to be making him watch what’s about to happen to you here today.”
“It will mean nothing, you pig! He’ll know you’re not half the man he is! That pathetic piece of flesh you call a cock…” I scoff. “I won’t even know it’s in me.” I shake my head, but of course, it’s pointless. The door has swung open again, and four half-naked men walk in.
“Don’t get your hopes up. I’m not going to fuck you again, Andrea.” He looks up and nods at the men, who move to stand around the bed. “They are.”
My eyes shoot wide, despite the swelling. One of them has a heavy duffel bag over his shoulder, and he drops it beside me. As he unzips it, I can just make out the contents in the reflection above. I shoot a horrified look at Mark, who leers back at me.
“It occurred to me that they might grow tired of taking turns on you. So, I suggested they bring some backup.”
“Screw you!” I manage to get out, though my defiance is flagging as I see the guy unpacking a series of items. There’s a huge white dildo among them that must be twelve inches long.
“Oh, but I’m sure you’ll love it, darling. By now, your cunt isn’t so tight anymore. Though I imagine your ass is.” He shrugs. “Never mind. By the time they’re finished with you, we’ll be able to drive a bus through them.”
The guy beside me starts to laugh. He palms the bulge in his pants.
“Then I’m going to fuck her first, boss. Not interested in trying to get my rocks off after we’ve ruined her.”
One of the others leans over and reaches for the front of my bra. I twist away, straining at the cuffs on my wrists as he yanks viciously, snapping the lace apart. My breasts spring free, bouncing even more as I continue to twist and writhe.
“Ahh…those are some great tits, boss,” one of the other guys says. “This is gonna be so sweet.” He’s unbuttoning his pants, pulling them down beefy thighs.
“Wait till you see her cunt, Pete,” Mark chuckles. “It’s so juicy…”
