Modelling Promise

~3~

The ghost of Charles touch, the vicious man who just raped me, lingers on my body. I place my fist on my forehead as if I could smash through my skull; needing to eradicate his moans of pleasure tormenting my mind. How could I allow that brute of a man to touch me?

Why didn't I fight back?

Why didn't I fucking fight back?

I suck on my bottom lip. The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth as images of the merciless way AJ attacked me looms behind my eyes. In the many months that I have known AJ, I never thought that I would ever fear him.

I grip my stomach as nausea claws at my throat. I pull up my bruised body, stifling my groans as I make my way to the bathroom. I fall to my knees in front of the toilet, just before a mouthful of vivid yellow bile spills over my quivering lip. The stomach acid stench fills my nostrils barely disguising the musky scent of Charles tainting my body.

The excruciating minutes between us play on loop in my mind, making me feel sick all over again. I dry heave once more as futile whimpers of help escape my lips.

My hands shake as I wipe my watery eyes and pull myself up. Earlier the state of the bath had sickened me, but now, all I can think about is washing away all traces of Charles.

Looking around, I can't see any cleaning products or sponges to wipe the bath clean. Instead, I pick up my discarded underwear, thankful that I decided to wear ones with full coverage. I squirt some passion fruit shower gel on them. The smell is welcomed, as I scrub away the previous enslaved womans abuse away.

Now clean, I step in and run the lukewarm water over my body. I point the shower head at my face and allow the water to mix with my tears. I scrub my skin until it is raw, needing the contaminated layer to be erased.

The water now runs as cold as ice and my tear ducts are exhausted. I shiver and climb out of the bath. There is nothing to dry myself with, so I pull on the clothes that I arrived in and sit down on the bed.

Hours pass and the door squeaks open. I keep my eyes glued to the floor, heart pounding. AJ stops in front of me, and I watch as his right foot taps on the concrete impatiently. My heart picks up speed and I pray to God that another man will not walk through that door.

He coughs loud, sending a chill down my spine. I want to look up at him and plead for my freedom, but I can't look into the eyes of the man who I thought I could trust. Who I thought I was building something with? How wrong was I?

"Who told you to put on those clothes?" he barks.

Silence.

He uses his index finger to push my head back. I'm caught off guard and my head lolls without resistance. I keep my eyes closed, reciting the words of affirmation that I stuck on my wall.

I am valuable. I am courageous. I am strong. I am loved.

When he finally removes his finger, my eyes fall back to the ground. He sighs, taking another step towards me.

"I'm talking to you. Answer me you little bitch."

I remain silent, completely numb. What more can he do to me that he hasn't already done? I am a mere object, used an abused on his request.

The bed sinks lower as he takes a seat. "You know," he says, stroking my hair. I stay still, but inside I'm screaming out, begging him not to touch me.

"I was going to let you eat and have a little rest, but now," he shouts, twisting his fingers around my hair. "You can get changed for your next customer."