Page 49 of Corrupt Desires

I can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of my chest, hysteria dancing along the edges of my mind. These fucking men, thinking they own the world and the women in it. That they can just take and take without any consequences. Well, fuck that.

“Eres un pendejo, Lorenzo” I say, more laughter causing my body to shake in the chair. (You’re a dickhead.) “I hope you burn with the lot of them.”

“You mean, like your parents burned up in that house? Their bodies nothing but ash?”

I scream, my rage and grief turning my vision red. “Fuck you!”

He cocks his head to the side, seeming to contemplate his next words very carefully.

“You know,principessa, I was sent in here to soften you up, make you pliant for Anthony. But that doesn’t look like it’s happening. Unfortunately for you, that means you get my friend Vincent”—he looks away toward the door as it swings open—“he loves to play with pretty little dolls like yourself.”

Lorenzo leaves the room, whispering something in Vincent’s ear before he makes his exit.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the royal bitch that has all the men drooling for a piece of ass,” Vincent says, circling where I’m held in the chair, unable to do anything but move my legs.

“Yeah, you’re pretty to look at, but I’ve seen bigger tits. Nice tight body, though. Bet your pussy would squeeze my dick real good.”

I spit at his feet, disgust plain to see on my face. Vincent is grossly overweight but tall, and he looks like he uses his shirt as a napkin and hasn’t showered in a week.

“Ahh, the princess has some fire to her, huh? Good, a lot of us men like our women to have some fight in them. Making it easy is too boring.”

Vincent stops his circling to stand at my back. I don’t give him the satisfaction of trying to keep him in my sights, however. I know I’m at a gross disadvantage. My only hope is that James and Kayden figure this out with Franklin and bring in the big guns. Until then, I just need to survive.I’ll take whatever they give, I just need to make it out alive. I repeat this over and over in my head, and it still sickens me when I feel his grubby hand reach around and grab a handful of my breast, pinching my nipple to the point of pain.

“Fuck, these tits are still nice, even if they are smaller than what I normally like,” he says, speaking to himself. “You like that, princess?”

I hiss out a breath when he squeezes even harder, the pain sending warning signals to my brain. I jerk my body to the side in the hopes of throwing his hand off me, but it does nothing but piss him off.

“I like it as much as I like being tied to this chair, asshat,” I spit at him, my hatred rolling off me in waves.

My head is yanked back by my hair, and I clench my jaw through the pain. This fucker definitely pulled out some of my hair, fuckingpendejo. Head pulled back, I can see Vincent leaned over my face, reveling in my pain.

“Ahhh, princess, we are just getting started.”

He abruptly lets go of my hair, and my head jerks forward, and this time I do look left and right, trying to keep him in my sights. He quickly walks around to my front and takes a length of rope out of his back pocket, looking at me with a dark promise.

I knew what I was getting myself into when I gave myself up. I’ve seen the horrors that all the women have had to endure, but it does nothing to staunch the fear that is coursing through my body right this second now that I’m living it. I repeat over and over “just make it out alive, James will get me out alive”until it’s a mantra in my head that I cling to. It’s all I have to cling to…

Pulled from my thoughts, Vincent kneels down and grabs my feet which are tied together at my ankles and slowly undoes the knot. Grabbing my left ankle, he jerks my legs apart and starts tying my ankle to the leg of the chair. I know he means to get my legs apart for whatever sick task he wants to achieve, so I kick out with my right foot, catching him square in the chest, sending him sprawling onto his ass. Huffing from exertion, I fight against the ropes but it’s useless, all it does is cause the rope to dig into my wrists and chest. He lunges forward, catching my right foot and hurriedly tying it to the other chair leg. Sitting back, he observes his handiwork.

“Such a little fighter, princess. I like it. I like it a lot,” he says as he starts to rub his cock through his jeans. “What I wouldn’t give to have that smart-ass mouth on my dick, but Anthony has strict rules I have to follow. I can touch and play all I want, but fucking your pussy, ass, or mouth is completely off the table. I think we can still have some fun, though. So many things we can still do to break this little rebellious streak you have going.”

I’m disgusted, and my body is betraying me as I start to tremble with the fear that is taking hold of me.Just make it out alive, just make it out alive, just make it out alive…

Vincent pushes off the ground, tugging the ropes free from my chest. He rips my tank top down the middle, exposing my now pebbled breasts to the cool air in the room. My chest heaves as he stares at me like a piece of meat that he can’t wait to take a bite of.

“These breasts,” he says as he grabs each one in his hands, “are mine now.” He takes a hand off my breast and shoves his hand between my legs to grab my center. “And this pussy is mine now.”

“I’m not someone to be owned,pendejo.”

“Well, it looks like you have very little say in the matter,” he says as he backs up slightly, undoing his jeans and pulling out his cock.

Repulsed by him, I turn my head to the side trying to avoid what I know is to come.

“Ah, ah, ah, princess. Eyes on me. Otherwise, I’ll have to cut you up. Anthony didn’t say anything about keeping you pretty.”

Calling his bluff, I keep my head turned to the side to avoid looking at him as he strokes himself. A sharp pain explodes across my chest, and I scream out in pain, unable to hold it in. Vincent stands before me, a bloody knife in one hand and the other hand still stroking his cock. I look down at the source of my pain and find a nasty cut across my chest that is probably going to need a lot of stitches. I hiss out breaths through my teeth, the pain all consuming as my blood runs in rivers onto my thighs.

I scream out in pain again as Vincent pokes his finger into the cut, laughing as he digs into my torn skin.

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