Page 40 of Penance

I can feel it, pump after pump splattering into her pussy, coating her walls with my DNA, and all the evidence she would ever need if she wanted to throw my ass in jail.

But I’m not worried.

She will never tell.

Mercy is my good little girl.

When I stumble back, my cock slips out of her, and I look down and see our combined juices leaking out of her, dripping down the curve of her ass and darkening the perfectly pressed bedspread beneath her.

Chuckling, I push my cock back into my pants and stumble out of the room, falling against the wall more than once as I hurry down the hallway and then rip open the front door and let myself out.

Now, I go upstairs, shower, and get in bed, and wait for her to come to me.

And she will.

I know she will.

Chapter 9

Mercy

I’m lying on my bed, my body wracked with convulsions as if it’s rejecting everything that just happened to me.

I can’t move, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but let the panic devour me. My heart slams against my ribcage, so hard and so fast that I worry it’s going to explode and kill me. The plastic zip tie he’d used to bind me are cutting into my wrists, but I barely feel that pain. It’s the terror that paralyzes me, presses me into the mattress until I feel like I can’t move even if I try to.

“God, please,” I whisper, my voice shaking. “Please help me.”

But I hear nothing in return.

I can’t feel Him here.

I am alone.

The taste of blood lingers in my mouth, coppery and thick. It coats my tongue, my lips, and the back of my throat. I gag at the taste, but it’s weak at best.

I don’t have the energy for anything else.

Is this my punishment?

Is this what I deserve for the horrible things I’ve done?

I’ve tried to live my life in the light, followed the path my parents carved for me. I’ve been a good daughter, a good Christian.

So why do I deserve this?

My eyes are wide, staring at the ceiling, but I don’t see it. All I can see is the attack, playing over and over again in my mind, every single word he said playing on repeat in my ears, like a broken record.

The room spins, the walls closing in, the darkness weighing down on me like mountains of dirt, covering my grave.

Run, Mercy,a voice inside me screams.Move!

But my body won’t listen.

It’s as if every muscle has turned to stone, frozen solid.

I’m stuck here. I’m trapped.

Seconds drag on until they become minutes, and soon enough so many have passed that I don’t even know what hour it is anymore, or what day.

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