Page 39 of Degradation
He strikes me again, calling me a lustful whore, only this time he doesn’t hit my back, he hits my breasts. He clearly takes great delight in hurting them, he twists the thing, turning it as it makes contact, so those nasty little fangs cut into my nipples, and I cry out.
My tears stream down my face.
I just want this to end. I just want all of it to end.
I can’t do this. I can’t.I don’t understand why my husband is the way he is. I don’t understand why he keeps hurting me. I haven’t done anything to deserve this treatment.
The Priest makes me get to my knees, has me clasp my hands together in prayer and he continues to beat me while he has me recite the Lord’s prayer over and over.
The floor is so hard. My body aches from what those men did to me and my knees are begging me to get up. I have shooting pains up my legs. I think I’ve run out of tears to cry but still, this isn’t enough.
More water covers me. Holy water this time.
“We purify your flesh. We purify your mind. You will be purged of your sins and accept your place as an obedient and compliant wife.”
I’m trembling so violently now my teeth smash together. Even my bones feel frozen.
When my body collapses, I don’t even bother to fight it. My face slams into the wet floor and I barely whimper at the new blow to my cheekbone.
And as I lay there with my eyes shut, feeling completely broken, the Priest stands over me, checking to see if I’m really done in or simply faking it.
He prods me with his staff. I don’t react.
Then he clicks his fingers for the maids to do something.
I don’t know what it is. What this new form of torture is but as they kneel beside me, I mentally prepare myself for more pain. I can see from their faces that they don’t want to be here. I know they don’t want to have any part in this, and I don’t doubt come morning, they’ll be begging my forgiveness.
The Priest lays a golden bowl down. I can see it’s filled with something. The maids, dip their hands in and pull out what look like small sponges. As they wipe them over me, I realise it’s oil. I’m being cleaned up then.
They’re meticulous about it under the Priest’s stern gaze. When they get to all the cuts I hiss, feeling that nasty sharp sting like a thousand tiny blades all cutting into me, but they continue on, acting as if they didn’t notice.
All I can think about is how it feels a repeat of my wedding day. Of how I was prepped for that.
When they’re done, I’m given a white silk slip to put on and then I’m escorted back through to the Palace, back along those same hallways I was dragged through, only this time, I’m not taken up my usual staircase. No, this time I’m taken up one that is far fancier, far bigger, far more sweeping. As we make it to the landing, I’m led into a room that has sliding double doors. Gilded doors. Inside is a bed, a massive bed that dwarfs the one I’ve been sleeping in before.
I can see someone in it. For a second my fear multiplies as I think he’s having me brought to another man.
But it isn’t a stranger waiting for me. It’s my husband.
He’s sat up, tucked up under the covers, with his eyes fixed on my person.
“Come.” He beckons.
I don’t understand why I’ve been brought here. What the fuck is wrong with this man? What more could he possibly wantfrom me? The maid gives me a nudge in my back, and I take one reluctant step after another.
As I reach the bed, he holds the covers up for me to get in.
He’s naked. I don’t know why that should surprise me, but it does.
I clamber in, hating still that I don’t have all that much of a choice in returning to my abuser and he drops the duvet before wrapping his body around mine, curling into me in a way that feels almost loving.
“Sleep, wife.” He says so contentedly. “Sleep now.”
Only, I can’t sleep.
I don’t dare shut my eyes. He may be gentle in this moment but what if I shut my eyes and then he decides to turn back into a monster again?
I lay still, frozen, my mind whirling and, once more, I swear I have whiplash from the way his mood keeps flitting. His breath seems to slow. His body slumps more into me as he relaxes and only when I hear the soft sound of him snoring do I accept that he really is asleep. That this isn’t a trick.
