Page 24 of Depravity

My mind starts racing, and my head becomes more panicked as I try to digest what he’s said.

But his hands are on me, touching me, forcing my legs apart.

“No,” I gasp just as his fingers shove right into my core. A white-hot burning pain makes me jolt. I’ve never touched myself down there, never dared. I know it’s a sin, I know self-pleasure goes against the commandments but I’m also certain it shouldn’t hurt like this, because why then would it be called pleasure?

My body clenches, my body locks up and I stiffen even more with every brutal thrust.

“I’m going to make you feel good.” He says as though he either didn’t hear my lack of consent, or has already chosen to disregard it. “Just relax, doll, let me show you.”

I can’t relax. I can’t stop crying.

Tears stream down my face as my body rocks more and more violently. I don’t understand what he’s trying to achieve, but he forces his fingers in and out of me in quicker and quicker succession. like this is some kind of race.

“Christ, you’re so tight.”

I can hear it in his voice, I can hear how much he’s enjoying this.

“Please,” I sob, too afraid to actively fight him.

“Just relax, Brynn.” He says more forcefully, and I make the stupidest mistake of meeting his gaze.

His mouth slams into mine, his body envelops mine and he’s pressing into me, his hands holding my legs wider.

Something bigger, something far girthier tears into me and I scream, shutting my eyes, praying that any minute I will be spared.

“Fuck, you feel so good. So fucking good.” The way he groans, the way he pants, the way his dick violates me makes all that bile rise up, only I’m too scared and far too conditioned to do anything other than swallow it back down.

His tongue pushes its way into my mouth again and I wonder if he can taste the vomit. If he knows, if he even cares.

“God,” He groans, like this is the best damn moment of his life.

My nails dig into my palms. I don’t dare fight back; I don’t dare do anything but just lay here and submit. It’s like my mind is still too muddled from the drugs to truly take any course of action, so instead I play docile, I play dead.

“Fuck, Brynn, fuck.” He gasps. “I’m going to fill you up, fill you so full.”

His dick jerks, his body thrusts one last time before he tenses and I know what he’s doing, what is happening.

As he slumps down on top of me, a voice in my head starts screaming out that I need to do something, that I need to wash, that I have to ensure I don’t get pregnant from this.

“So beautiful.” He murmurs, and I realise he’s staring at me again.

Christ, the way he looks at me. It’s not right. It’s not okay. He’s staring at me like I’m some sort of angel, some divine creature. But who would do the things he’s done if that’s what he thought of me?

She’s so perfect. Too perfect. How am I going to be able to even leave this room, leave her alone for a second?

My cock is still buried inside her and though I can feel it already softening, I don’t want to pull out. Oh, I know she’s hurting. I know her poor cunt is bruised but she’ll get used to that pain, get used to that feeling. I won’t coddle her; I won’t pretend to be something I’m not. Her body is mine to use as I see fit but if she’s good, then I’ll take care of her too. I’ll love her in ways she’ll never know were possible.

A silent tear streaks down her face.

It’s just as beautiful as the rest of her, but then I remember what we’ve just done. That we’ve just had sex for the firsttime with her being present to it and that tear, it symbolises everything she feels about it, about me.

To say it pisses me off is an understatement.

My hands grip her body. She’s so fragile that it’s easy to flip her over and pull her so that she’s face down right across my lap. She needs to learn that I’m not fucking around.

With my left hand, I strike her hard.

She screams out, throwing her head back.

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