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TRIGGER WARNING: MENTION OF RAPE AND TORTURE.
Touch - how would anyone define this word? Simply put, it meant, 'to make physical contact'. Of course, there were many more ways and meanings of this word, but this one stands out strongly. Human beings are creatures of emotions, most things lead to some sort of reaction from us.
Touch wasn't anything different when it came to eliciting a reaction from us.
Touch often resonated deep reactions from us, it could be one of pleasure, embarrassment, and anger to name a few.
The sensation of hands touching you, the fingers digging into your skin, as you thrash beneath was an odd sensation. If not odd, it was definitely not wanted; unless, of course, it was consensual. But the world worked in mysterious ways, and the concept of 'no' was foreign to many.
Valarie had suffered in life, but she could not fathom how her fate led her to this-
Lying on the cold hard floor, her face was being pushed towards a man's pelvis, and her hands were...
She had no sense to where they were but all she was too weak to do anything, either.
But that was the fate of a woman. They were weaker. Men had been created in a way which made them physically stronger than women. And if not all men, most of them used it to their advantage.
But nothing really mattered to her at the moment. In this very second, all she wished for was this to be a dream and one she woke up from.
And a dream it was.
All she wanted was everything to stop, and for the first time in a very long while, it did.
A stinging pain on Valerie's cheek made her open her eyes, and as she did she was greeted by a man. The man looked like he was in his mid-twenties, his eyes bored into hers, a cold glare seeped into them, and his lips pulled to the side in pure irritation.
What was happening?
The pain in her cheek felt like it was slowly spreading like tendrils of leaves, it did not spread in her whole cheek, it was a different sensation than the ones she had been accustomed to. No, the place where the man had struck her burned, she could feel where that man's finger had made contact with the skin, the pain slowly travelled from those areas, and it reached the corner of her eyes.
With blurry eyes, she looked at the man in front of her, whose expression hadn't changed in the slightest. Where was she? She wanted to ponder on that thought, but before she could, the pain travelled into a fine line...creating a burning path as it went to her head, and she grimaced.
"You know, that is not the most effective way of waking someone" A calm voice spoke from the other side of where Valarie felt herself being laid down.
She slowly turned her face to her right side and another figure came into her view. But once again, she could not make out the features of the man standing there.
"It woke her up, that's enough. Now deal with it."
Valerie's ear picked up the last words which were spoken, Now deal with it. She had not woken up, yet. The dreams she had lived through just moments ago will morph into reality from which she could not wake up.
A harsh whimper fell from her lips as the same voice who had asked the other guy to deal with her spoke up. "Why is her face like that?"
Valerie flinched at the voice while the other person sighed. "Okay, leave. You are scaring her."
"Right, I am scaring her."
With those words and scoff, the person whose name Valerie understood was Stephan walked out of the room.
"Forgive my brother, he doesn't know how to treat a lady well. I am Romero Castro Ortiz, and you are?"
In reply all Valerie could do was whimper.
"Ah, great response. I did take a course in non-verbal communication. It is most effective."
Valerie looked at him wide-eyed and slowly took in the room she was in. The room was simple and medium-sized with colours coated in a soothing light grey, creating a neutral and calming atmosphere, one which Valerie focused on intently.
With the words spoken by that man, Stephan, earlier and the dream fresh in her mind, she wanted to focus on something else, anything rather than what was lingering in her mind. The bed she was half sitting and half lying on was soft and comfortable and as she looked around more, she realised it was placed in the middle of the room. The bed was adorned with soft pillows, at the feel of which she slowly started to relax her muscles.
She did not know when was the last time she had felt the comforts of a bed or a room which held a homely note to it. On one side of the room, next to the bed, she noticed there was a small nightstand.
Adjacent to the bed was a closet, and she wondered about clothes.
A tear slid down from her eyes as she slowly felt the cushiony texture of the pillows around her. The warm texture of the blanket which was resting on her. It was then she felt clothes which hung from her frame, and she did not realise the sense of security she felt from a piece of garment which surrounded her.
Things like, clothes, a bed, a comforter, and a closet, were so common to her, nothing out of the ordinary. But now, as she felt the lining of the cloth rubbing against her stomach, her breasts, the feel of the cotton on her collarbone, the tears came like a hurricane.
Pushing herself back into the comforter, she yelped in pain, as her back burned from the numerous whip marks she had endured, but that did not stop her tears. Rather, she hid her face in the comforter and sobbed.
"Ah, you need that. I will just wait till you are done."
And so, Valerie cried. She felt every mark on her skin, burning in pain, she relished the false sense of security and the momentary relief she felt. She cried for the uncertainty about the events which would transpire in the future. But mostly she cried because, after a very long time, her body felt covered and hers alone.
After how long she did not know, she spoke softly, gratitude bubbling in her heart. "I am Valerie."
Romero, the person who was sitting at the corner of the bed looked up, "Well, it's nice to meet you." He gave her a warm smile and Valerie relaxed.
He was good, right?
Her eyes looked at him with caution as he slowly walked towards her. She noticed he was a well-built man, dressed sharply, and in other circumstances, she would find his features attractive. But right now, she could only focus that he was a well-built man, and they were strong.
Her lips parted in fear and Romero understood that look. "Sorry, dove. I am just gonna look at your bruises, you have plenty of them and I have already treated them, but if not looked after, it may take a worse turn."
Valerie nodded in surprise but did not say anything further, what could she say? He was willingly helping her, and she felt her heartbeat in hope.
Was she safe, after all?
Before she could ponder over that thought, she felt fingers grazing her cheek and she moved away instantly, like an involuntary reflex. But the moment she did, she cried out again, feeling her bones pop in an unnatural sound. Her lungs tried to expand to take in air, but her broken ribs caused that movement to halt, making Valerie choke as she grew hysterical with every effect of the hits which were placed on her battered body.
Her mind went haywire as she realised she could not breathe and each time she tried, her ribs protested.
Romero sighed and mumbled as he walked somewhere, "Maybe I should use this as a torture technique. Fuck their ribs and force them to breathe until they kill themselves."
Valerie felt hands on her arms and she whimpered again, the feeling of dread creeping onto her.
"Sorry dove, but you need to sleep. Or, we might never get to sleep with you. Would be a very bad investment."
Those were the last words she heard before she fell limp.