Page 21 of Thorns Laced In Blood

It was like a hot poker being stabbed inside of me. I could usually take his punishments, but not while my body ached from the burning hot water. I felt like I was being torn apart. My stomach twisted as he forced himself deeper. The piercing pain was agony as his clothes rubbed on my skin.

“You know the rules. Bad girls get their arse fucked dry,” he said, gripping my throat.

He thrust harder, plunging deep inside my ass again. His movements and pace were as ruthless as he was. The devil. He pulled out of me completely, only to ram his dick back inside my defeated muscles. I cried and begged, but nothing stopped him.

I stopped begging when his fingers tightened around my neck. I could feel our bodies move against the springs in the mattress. There was no escape from his punishing cock that spread me wide open.

“Yes, that’s what I needed. Your blood on my cock,” he panted as he continued to pound into me. “All your privileges are gone.”

My eyes flickered as I tried to stay awake, but his fingers restricted my air.

“Filthy cunt. Take it up your shithole,” he said as I tried to blink away the black spots. “Take my cum.”

He thrust so deep I could feel his trousers against my ass. Again and again, he drove into me with each brutal thrust harder than the last. I prayed he would cum before he ruptured something inside of me. When he came with a groan, he slammed his hips down, but he choked me until I began to close my eyes. His hot cum squirted inside of me as I let out my final strangled breaths.

Chapter 13

Maeve

I blinked as I woke up. My body ached from head to toe. The fucking psycho was gone. My head and face ached, and I felt the nausea from the concussion threatening to boil over. My face felt swollen, and it throbbed as if it had a life of its own. The light was switched off. I didn't know if it was the next day or still the same day.

When I tried to move, I was unable to. He left me tied to the bed. I remember the calm mood he had been in the day he killed the girl. This was it. He would kill me. I sighed and relaxed the good side of my face on the pillow.

Perhaps it was time to end it all. I was tired. So very tired of fighting. What life could I go back to? I had no home, family, education or job. My life was meaningless. This physical and mental pain would end. It would all end. No one was coming to save me, and I couldn't save myself because I was a coward.

A worthless coward.

???

The lock clicked, and my eyes flickered open. The immediate pain started to throb and thrum all over my body. A dim light shone into the room, reminding me of my bedroom at home. The revolving door of men, but this one was the devil that started it all. His shoes clicked on the cement floor until I could feel him looming over me.

“Where is the knife?” he asked as if he were asking me about something as mundane as the time or weather.

“Wardrobe, under my clothes,” I croaked out, watching as he rummaged in the wardrobe and pocketed the knife before walking back toward me.

His fingers trailed down my cheek, lingering on the throbbing bruise he’d left last night. I didn’t flinch. Couldn’t. My body was a map of his fury.

The shower’s scalding water still hissed in my ears. My back passage was torn, and my body ached with each breath. My face continued to throb from when he smashed it into the tiles.

He straightened, adjusting his tie.

“No water today,” he mused.“Let’s see how long it takes for those pretty lips to chap.”

I guess this is what he meant about losing privileges. He wouldn’t give me any food or water since there was no tray or box on the table. He untied the ropes, but I didn't move for fear of triggering him when he was deadly calm like this.

The door locked behind him. The light vanished, and the real torture began. The waiting. I knew he wasn't done with me yet.

I slowly climbed off the bed and limped towards the door to feel for the light switch. My bladder was bursting, and I needed to use the toilet. When I passed the table, I noticed the small strip of pills. I recognised the size and knew they were the contraceptive pills. He’d taken the painkillers and cream like the petty little bitch he was.

I paused to swallow the pill. The thought of falling pregnant as a prisoner made me shudder. The last thing I wanted was to produce and bring a child into this world. I clutched the wall for support as I sat down on the toilet, breathing through the pain.

As I relieved myself, I thought of how out of character his behaviour was and everything he did two years ago. When he first brought me here, the pain he inflicted on me was similar totests. He would increase the intensity of punishments. This was different. He kept me locked up like an animal. A pet. Yet, on some level, he had taken care of my basic needs. My chances of surviving his silent rage were slim.

The day was slower than most, and it became difficult to concentrate on my book. The constant hunger and anxiety continued in the form of hearing phantom footsteps behind the locked door or imagining other random noises. The pain ebbed away in the background but he didn't come back.

Not to feed me or torment me.

???

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