Page 3 of Depravity

And, as he forces himself into me, I shatter completely.

Because it’s over. All of it.

My futile attempt to fight, my dreams of freedom, my life too. It’s all gone now. Everything is gone. Stolen by the man I’m now bound to as my husband.

He’s not gentle, not even in this moment when he’s getting everything he apparently wanted. He takes me like I’m a piece of meat, like I really am just a thing for him to fuck. I’m bent over, sprawled over the altar and he starts picking up speed, fucking me harder, causing the knife that was barely centimetres from us to crash to the floor.

I turn my face, wishing there was something, anything that could distract me from the agony of what’s happening to my body, from my complete and utter violation. Only I see the Priest, standing, staring, clearly watching every brutal second of this play out like he can’t get enough.

He holds my gaze and doesn’t even blink as Conrad slams into me over and over, making my body physically jolt forward a few inches while I cry out in agony. It feels like he’s tearing up my insides. I’m not even sure how much pain I can take, considering he’s already brutally raped me God knows how many times in the last twenty-four hours.

His shirt presses into my back, and his weight overwhelms me. I can hear every breath he takes, every groan, every gasp as he brings himself closer and closer to his climax. Even in this moment, he’s obviously taking pleasure from this.

Can he not feel how much he’s damaging me, or does he not care?

“As your bodies unite, as your husband claims you on this holy altar, remember your duty, remember your place. You are a Brethren Lady, and your only salvation is through your husband. His will is God’s will. His wishes are God’s wishes. You live to serve him. You live to obey.”

Serve. Obey. All things I now have to do. All things I must do if I wish to see heaven one day.

But how can I do such a thing? How can God allow such a thing?

I don’t realise I’m sobbing until my vision blurs.

Only, my dear husband is too busy chasing his end to give a shit what my reaction is, and as his thrusts become more merciless, I know he’s close. I know he’s there.

He groans out, collapsing on top of me and those last awful breaths in my lungs seem to escape.

The Priest bends down, untying our hands and as if I would treasure it, he twirls the ribbon up and places it in my still bleeding palm.

Conrad pulls out of me and does his trousers up. Only, I don’t move. I just lay there as if I’m already defeated.

He takes his jacket off, wraps it around me and picks me up as if he’s suddenly the hero in this story and not the villain.

But as he goes to carry me out, the Priest calls him back, holding up that awful white sheet he’d laid beneath me where my virtue would be stained if I’d had any left.

“You forgot this.” He says.

Conrad pauses, glancing down at the now stained sheet.

“I thought you said you’d already claimed her.” The Priest murmurs.

We can all see the blood. My blood. I know it’s not my virginity, I know he’s already stolen that, but it still makes me feel physically sick to see that he’s spilt more. That he’s hurt methatbadly.

Conrad’s eyes seem to illuminate as if this is a new prize, a second prize, another trophy for his damned cabinet. He takes the sheet before planting a kiss on my forehead and he whispers in my ear what a good girl I’ve been.

His hand sends me flying across the room.

I slam into the polished floor of our Great Hall, smashing my head into the tiles while the faces of all our ancestors seem to spin above my head.

“You stupid little whore.” My grandfather spits. “Have you learnt nothing?”

I don’t know what crime it is I’ve committed today but as I try to get to my feet, a shoe slams into my back, pinning me back down. I can feel from the pressure of it that it’s a high heel. A stiletto, and I know already before she speaks that it belongs to my aunt, Giselle.

“Filthy little slut.” My aunt sneers. “Just like your mother.”

“And you’ll end up like her too.” My grandfather states, shoving her off, yanking me up by my hair. “You’ll end up dead in a ditch or, if you continue to shame this family, we’ll have you shipped off. Have you sent to Oblivion, where you can spend the rest of your days being used like the beast that you are.”

I shouldn’t react. I shouldn’t give in. I’ve told myself so many times that I’ll stand up to them, that I’ll be strong, courageous even. But all that shatters beneath my grandfather’s furious face. All that courage fractures. I whimper, my legs give out, and I can feel the trickle of blood seeping from my nose.

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