Page 24 of Broken

I know you are probably thinking, why the fuck would I do that to myself? After everything he has put me through, and it’s very clear that he is not going to step in to stop this, otherwise he would have done it already, I can’t help the draw I feel for him. I feel a pull to him still, even now. The logical part of me remembers the conversation we had before we parted after that night. We talked about how we would need to act like strangers so Grant never suspected. Ryder told me that not only was his job very important to him, but also, because of how deeply he is in the family, there is no out for him. He knows too much, so leaving is not an option. That’s where the logical part of my brain reminds me that if he tries to save me, he could get us both killed, and I understand his actions even if I don’t like them. Then with every searing spank that is delivered, the less logical part of my brain rears her ugly head. This has always been the fantasy side of my brain and she is desperate. From her perspective, she can see we had a special night together and that it meant more to us both than we ever admitted. She sees the way he looks at me, the way he protects me whenever we are in a room together. She sees the way his searing hot gaze bores into me, making me feel like I’m the most beautiful woman in the world. She knows that everytime I see him, my heart speeds up and I get butterflies in my stomach. She knows that no matter how much I deny it, I’m developing strong feelings for Ryder. She completely ignores the impracticability, the fact he is clearly more interested in his job and that it would be dangerous for us. She ignores the horrendous situation we are both in. To her, it is simple. If he cares for me, he would never let this monster keep hitting me. She needs to know if he is going to save me and it’s the less logical side of my brain that wins out in this debate. I turn my head slightly to try and find where Ryder is. Grant doesn’t notice my movement, he is too busy alternating between smacking and stroking.

I see Ryder standing, leaning against the same wall he was before, holding the same beer bottle. The look on his face is devastating because it’s like he is wearing a blank mask. It’s almost as though he is trying to pretend that what is happening around him isn’t actually happening, but it is and yet he still stands there. Despite the blank look on his face and almost bored looking exterior that he is giving off, there is something in my mind that makes me think it's an act. I can see the knuckles on the hand holding the beer bottle are white as though he is gripping it tightly from anger. I see that his other hand is balled up into a fist with equally white knuckles. Then when I study his face further and try to ignore the blank stare, I can see the rigidness of his jaw, almost like he is grinding his teeth. If I didn’t know any better, I would think he was angry, but if he truly was, he would stop this. I’m sure it's the fantasy side of me that wants to believe Ryder is my hero, but I don’t think he is, I think he’s just another monster.

My arse now is so sensitive, it feels as though it is red raw and yet, Grant continues with his assault. My screams are constant now and fill the room. The tears I had tried to stop from flowing were now turning back into an even worse sob than before and I am begging him to stop. It seems like everytime I tell him how much pain I am in and beg him to stop, he hits me harder. I can feel his hard erection straining against my stomach and can feel that with every one of my yelps or cries of desperation, he gets harder. The sick bastard is getting off on this. I feel like my mind is going to explode with an overload of sensations, the pain combined with the rubbing he administers after each hit confuses me so much. The pain is becoming unbearable and I am wiggling to get free, desperate for this humiliation to end, but it feels as though the hits just keep on coming.

At first, I think he is just caressing my bruised and mottled skin for longer than normal but the hit that my body is tensed up ready to receive doesn’t come. I am unsure whether I should let my guard down, but I take in some big deep breaths to try and get control over myself and to stop the sobbing and shaking. I feel him rubbing gentle circles over the skin that must now be ruby red. It feels so inflamed and sore, even such a gentle gesture causes a sting. He has spanked me literally over every surface of my arse, upper thighs, and lower back, making sure he didn't miss any area. So I’m not shocked that he is stroking in the same area, that is until it changes.

I feel Grant lift up the part of my panties that, during the beating, had made its way firmly into the crack of my arse. Just the idea of him pulling it out of my arse sends shivers of shame sweeping through my body. Just when I think that Grant isn’t capable of degrading me any further, I feel his finger slide past the crack of my arse and into my slit. Instantly, I start to panic and try as hard as I can to get away, but before I have a chance to shout and tell him to stop, he slaps each arse cheek hard and in quick succession. Having a break allowed my skin to start to cool down and so the feeling this time, when he strikes, is so much more intense. I scream and flinch with the pain, but still, Grant keeps me pressed hard against him.

“Well, well, men. It looks like the princess here likes the pain. She may scream and beg to get away, but her pussy tells a different story, doesn’t it, Ava? Tell my men what your pussy is telling me.” As he asks me the question, I feel his finger slip back into my slit and curve right to my peak. His fingers are just millimeters away from my sensitive bud and I am internally praying to anyone that will listen, to help me make this stop. I know I don’t want this and I am not getting off on the idea of this sick bastard using and humiliating me in front of his men. But I also know, the second his finger touches my clit, none of that will matter. It doesn’t care who is doing the touching or whether I have consented. The pleasure and the reaction my body makes to his touch is all instinctual, I have no control over it. Not that it will matter to this room full of pervy, sick bastards. They will think I enjoy being vulgarised because that is what men like this think of women. So, I try my hardest to concentrate on anything else but Grant's finger. Of course, the fact I have retreated into my own head results in me not answering Grant's question and so he punishes me with a further spank.

“Oh, Ava, baby, are you too ashamed to admit that your greedy little cunt is dripping wet from being spanked? Admit it, princess, you love it!” As he is speaking, his finger finally makes contact with my clit and no matter how hard I try to ignore it, when his finger starts to circulate and press on my sensitive nub, I can't help the moan that escapes from my lips. I know that despite it only being a small, gentle moan, it was heard by the whole room. I feel Grant chuckle as though he has just proved his point and the rest of the room all start shouting words of encouragement or vulgar things. They call me a whore, say I’m begging for his cock, that I love the pain and humiliation. Some praise Grant on his new fiancé, telling him what a good little slut he has and how much fun he will be able to have with me. Hearing complete strangers talking about how pretty my pussy is and how they like to hear me moan and scream is so humiliating. They call me a whore and talk about how they will be wanking over this scene for a long time and that thought is heartbreaking. Not only can they see my most vulnerable area, but they will be imagining that they are in Grant’s place. In their heads, each of these guys plan to use and abuse me while they whack off. My skin feels like it’s crawling and I feel so small. My heart sinks at the utter humiliation that I am feeling. Then I hear them refer to me as nothing more than his sex slave, which is disgusting because I would never consent to letting this vile creature touch me. Just the very idea that his plan for this fake fucking excuse of a marriage is so that he can use and abuse me every day scares the shit out of me. I can’t let him beat me. I have to keep fighting and let him know that if it’s a good little submissive housewife that he is looking for, then he has definitley got the wrong fucking girl.

“Fuck you. You are forcing yourself on me and you assaulted me. There is no fucking way on earth that my pussy would get wet for you. You disgust me, now take your fucking hands off of me,” I shout with as much fight as I can muster. My voice is hoarse from all of the shouting and screaming and sobbing that I did during the beating. I can tell my reaction has momentarily stunned everyone because not only does the whole room go silent, but Grant’s finger stops its assault on my clit. I feel him tense up beneath me and I don’t need to look at him to know I have pissed him off. I tense, waiting for the punishing spank to make contact, but it doesn’t come. The eerie silence just continues and I’m not sure what to do. I try to wriggle slightly to see if he is finally going to let me get free, but all he does is tighten his hold around my waist to the point that my side will most likely be bruised. I start to obsess over what is going to happen now. I have obviously pissed him off, which he says will always lead to a punishment, but since I am already in the middle of a punishment and he hasn’t hit me again, I worry he is planning something else. It’s almost like I can hear the cogs in his brain ticking away while he thinks up a way to adequately punish and demean me. Hushed whispers begin to spread around the room and I’m sure they are all thinking the same things as me, ‘what the hell is Grant going to do next’? Maybe I shouldn’t have fought back, but I don’t want him to think he has won. I have no intention of just rolling over and letting him have his way. If he wants me as his wife, then he gets me as I am; feisty, stubborn, independent, and a fucking bitch when I want to be.

“Ava, you know that type of behaviour is completely unacceptable and you will be punished for it when I feel like administering it. I need to make sure the punishment fits the crime, as all my men know.” Mumbled agreements and mass nodding floods around the room as they agree with their leader. I shudder at the thought of what he plans to do to me in private.

“So, Ava, back to the matter at hand because I know my men are desperate to know. Princess, don’t deny that being spanked in front of my men turns you on. I can feel that you are dripping wet.” Blush floods my cheek at his vulgar words, but the deep shame I feel comes from when he places his finger back on my clit, presses hard, and a wonton moan fills the air. This time, his movements feel different. He is no longer lazily stroking up and down my slit and grazing my clit to see if I am wet. No, now he is pressing hard on my nub and drawing circles around it with his finger. In between my gasps and groans, I realise he is now trying to make me cum. He wants me to orgasm on his fingers in front of all his men and if he carries on the way he is, I won't be able to stop him.

“You like that, my dirty princess?” Grant asks as he sweeps his finger up my lips before reaching the entrance to my pussy. Every time he has done this before, he curls his finger around the hole before going back to my clit, but this time it’s different. Before I have a chance to register what he is doing, I feel him slip a finger into my pussy. I try desperately not to react, but a deep moan escapes and my pussy clenches against his finger.

“You would not believe how tight her greedy snatch is, men. I can’t wait to feel it stretched open with my cock.” His words cause a deep disgust to thread through my veins. How can my body betray me in this way? I am repulsed by this man in every possible way, so how can he illicit this kind of response from me? That thought feels like a heavy boulder is sitting on my chest and I am overwhelmed with the loathing that I feel for myself right now. That, combined with the shame I feel from being exposed and used in front of so many people, sends me spiralling. Despite the moans coming from my lips, I have tears of sadness and despair streaming down my face. I am shaking, not with need or desire, but with fear. It finally registered with me that he plans on fucking me, probably right here, in front of all his men. The idea of people watching me like I am a prostitute participating in a live sex show is so degrading, I feel my heart start to break. My mind is whirling, trying to find a way to get out of this situation. I can’t be fucked in front of everyone, in front of Ryder. Oh God, I was so busy trying to block out the situation, I forgot all about Ryder. Just as I am about to look up at him again, I feel Grant insert a second finger into my pussy.

His fingers piston in and out of my pussy with great speed, but also great accuracy. Somehow, he is able to curl his fingers to the exact angle that he is able to hit my deep spot everytime. The more he does it, the more my moans become louder and more needy. I will not beg or speak to let him know how much my body is enjoying this. I will not show him he is winning, but he is. I can feel the tell tale signs of my body getting ready to ignite. My pussy walls are clenching, my skin is heating, and it feels like flames lick inside my stomach as my body craves the release my mind is desperate not to allow. The mewls of desire that fill the room give away my true feelings and it is obvious that my body is responding. But that isn’t enough for Grant. He wants to humiliate me, to torture me, and most imporantly, he wants to break me.

“Princess, you wouldn’t be getting ready to cum all over my fingers, would you?” he says it with such sarcastic glee because he knows the answer. Hell, the whole room just needs to look at me and they know the answer. No, this question is for me, to degrade me even further. He can fuck off if he thinks I am going to obey him.

“Fuck… You…” I manage to scream out in between my panting. I hear an evil chuckle and he removes his fingers from my dripping wet hole. The loss and emptiness is instant and my walls try to clench against air, desperate for the help they need to meet their release. My groan at the loss of friction needed to activate my oncoming orgasm seems to please the room. The words ‘whore’, ‘slut’, ‘desperate for it’, float around the room and I try to block them out, but I would be lying if I said they didn’t get through my walls. They penetrate my heart and soul, causing a pang of great shame and self-disgust. This worms its way through my veins and spreads all the way through my body and tears of regret fill my eyes. How the fuck did I get myself in this situation?

Before I have a chance to think about it further, I feel Grant’s skillful fingers move back to my swollen pink bud and he begins lazily twirling his finger around the nub. Not enough to send me over the edge, but more than enough to continue driving me crazy. I try to restrain myself, but it’s like my mind has gone completely blank and is giving into the maddening sensations. I feel Grant shift slightly beneath me and his engorged cock pokes me hard in my stomach, reminding me how much he is getting off on this vulgar act. Is this what he is like with all women, or am I just getting special treatment?

“Oh, don’t you worry, princess, I have every intention of fucking you. I am going to slam my dick so hard into that tight little pussy and stretch you open. I am going to ruin you for every other man and make you beg for me. You see, I had to give up the perfect pussy to marry you and not only will you pay dearly for that, But right now, in front of my men, all I require from you to end this punishment is for you to ask me to let you cum. That is it. No strings attached. Not only will the punishment end, but you will get the release you so desperately crave. So, what do you say, Ava?” The movement I felt before was Grant bending forward so his head was right against mine. As he whispered the words for only me to hear, his breath fanned over my ear and down my neck, causing a shiver. I want to say it was a shiver of fear over what this monster is capable of doing, but I would be lying. At this stage, I am so aroused, every little thing makes me wetter. The feel of his cock bobbing against me, the bruising grip of his hand around my hip, and the feel of his fingers in my most sensitive area, they all drive me crazy. I know in my heart that it is my body betraying me, that it is just lust and desire that is desperate for relief, but it still guts me. Even just the fact that I am considering letting this man touch me, as opposed to him just taking it, disgusts me. But my sensitive, pulsing nerves tell me I can’t cope with this torture any longer, I need to find my release.

Just as I am about to say the magic words, I hear a cough in the background. I don’t know why this noise, out of all the others in the room, is enough to pull me out of the lust driven haze I am currently stuck in, but it does. I look up and I see Ryder staring straight at me. Before I have a chance to look away, Grant obviously ramps up his attempts to get me to beg by inserting his two fingers back into my pussy. The shock of the abrupt penetration makes me cry out, but as he curves his fingers into my most sensitive spot, my cries turn to wanton moans. I realised, as I moaned at being fingered by another man, I was staring straight into Ryder’s eyes.

A part of me hopes he sees the situation for exactly what it is, my body responding to stimulation, that is all. This is Grant abusing me, degrading me in front of his men, and attempting to gain power over me. Surely, the gorgeous man who managed to actually make me feel things rather than just have my body respond, is able to tell the difference. Can he tell the moans he hears now are nothing compared to the primal urge just being near him created? The way I voluntarily and eagerly screamed his name and begged for more. This couldn’t be more different and I am desperately hoping he can see that. I want him to realise Grant is the abuser here and that I am not, nor will I ever be interested in him.

When Grant’s fingers slow down for a second during his change of pace, I force my brain to focus on the beautiful face in front of me. I want him to see the real me and to know how much I want him to help me by ending this before I have to lose myself completely. But his eyes are not heavily fixed on Grant as you would expect, they are firmly on me and that causes a sinking feeling of humiliation worse than anything Grant has done. I have spent the last hour or so with men looking at me like I’m a whore, calling me all the names under the sun and degrading me, yet I never felt it, until now.

Ryder’s face is contorted into a mixture of disgust and pain. I try to focus on the fact he is in pain at seeing this, but the look of revulsion is too much to ignore. From the moment I met Ryder, he has always looked at me with an awe I had never experienced before. It was like I was the most beautiful woman in the world to him and every time his beautiful eyes sparkled just through looking at me, I felt it. I felt beautiful and sexy, but mostly, I felt like I was his. It was an instant connection, like my heart knew I was supposed to be with this man. That was emphasized even more after our night together. Maybe, if we had met under different circumstances, things would be different, but we didn’t. I have ruined everything and looking into Ryder’s eyes now, I know, no matter what happens in the future, this will always be what he remembers. Our beautiful night together is a distant memory. All he will see is the slut who got off on being fingered by a guy she hates in front of a room full of people. The more this sinks in, the more my heart starts to crack. I realise I can’t possibly sink any lower in his eyes and that breaks me. I need to get out of here and away from his disapproving glare. I cannot see his revulsion anymore, I have to make this end and I only know one way. Looking deep into Ryder’s eyes, I speak the words neither of us want to hear.

Chapter Twenty-One

Ryder

“Please let me cum,” Ava whispers the words quietly and the desperation in her voice is obvious. Although she says it so quietly half the room probably can’t even make out what she said to me, she might as well have screamed it.

Her eyes bore into mine and there is so much pain and sadness engulfing her normally bright chocolate eyes. Seeing the tears as they roll down her face is heartbreaking. What hurts more is the look of disappointment I see in her eyes because that is aimed straight at me. I know she is begging for my help and all I can do is stand here. Fuck, I wish I could help her. Watching her fall apart at the hands of another man is cutting me up inside. To say that my vision is clouded with red and green mist, equal parts rage and jealousy, would be an understatement. I know logically that Ava is not mine, but fuck, do I wish she was.

Her moans fill the room and it’s like a knife directly into my heart, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t look away from her. Having elicited more than one orgasm from her beautiful body the other night, I have the noises she makes committed to memory. These sound different, there is not as much passion in them. With me, she screamed, begged for more, and she called out my name as though I was a God. There is none of that here and my heart holds on to that and tries to remind my stubborn brain that there's no way she wants this.

As she is about to fall apart, the jeers from around the room increase. Calls for the slut to cum echo around me and I see the moment Ava hears them because her eyes become dead. She is looking at me and the hope I initially saw there dies. I see a small tear escape her eyes and I feel myself moving closer to her. My instinct is to stop this and get her out of here. Grant has some sick plan for her and I am starting to think this isn’t the worst of it. My mind feels as though it is at war with itself and I am pulling myself in two. There is a part of me that desperately has to save a girl that I haven’t known for very long, but I can feel in my soul that she should be in my life. Ava is my girl and I need to make that happen. Then there's the other side of me, the one who remembers why I am here. This is my job. I have spent two years working my way to the top of this empire and I have to get there. My father has expectations for me and I feel the weight of them heavily on my shoulders. This is the job I have always wanted to do. I have lived and breathed the Blakeman family for the past two years. I don’t even remember the last time I saw my family or my friends. This has become my life and if I were to give it up now it would be disastrous. I can’t even begin to imagine what my father would say. I know I can’t stop this, but I can be there for her.

I look deep into her eyes and give her a smile. I know it’s forced and not the brightest smile I’ve ever managed, but I want her to know this is alright. She has been forced into a difficult position and she has to end it somehow. The strength she has shown in fighting for this long is amazing and it does warm my heart to know that my little vixen is still in there.

I can tell the moment she sees my smile because she returns it with one of her own. I see a flicker of light appear in her eyes but then Grant obviously changes technique and she falls over the edge. Her beautiful body shakes and her lust filled sounds fill the room. Despite the situation and the resentment I feel that it is Grant who made her body sing like that, I can’t deny her beauty. The way her teeth catch her plump red lower lip as her face contorts into pleasure and when her body writhes around as she rides out the waves, it’s almost as though her skin sparkles. I can’t stop my cock from getting harder. I try to block everyone else out and imagine I am the one causing her to make those sounds, that it’s my hand causing her to orgasm. That way I won’t feel as disgusted with myself over the fact my cock is so hard, it is straining painfully against my jeans, desperate for relief.

Once Ava has finished, things seem to move so quickly, I struggle to keep up. Grant stands up with a floppy Ava still in his arms, and as he stands to the side, he drops Ava back onto the seat. The impact, although soft and non-harmful, is enough to startle her out of the trance she appears to be in and she sits up. She folds her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms securely around them. She has curled up into a ball, making herself as small as she can. Obviously, she is trying to hide away as much of her body as she can to regain some of the dignity she has lost over the last couple of hours.

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