Please don't kill me?
This chapter was really hard to write. I almost didn't. But I felt like it should be.
Warning: Abuse and Rape...smut?[I think](seriously though. Don't kill me?)
The whole car ride the man was all handsy, his hands sliding over my zipper and down the inside of my thighs. I shuddered.
Finally we got to what I assumed was his house. I hate to admit it was a very nice house. If once could even call it that. It was a mansion. The house was massive. Plus, it seemed to have it's own personal army.
"Master Drake." A butler greeted at the door, his graying hair slicked back, his suit pressed. He watched me with cold gray eyes. "I will make accommodations for dinner then?" He asked.
"Don't be silly, Jensen. The whore will be so sore afterwards, it won't be hungry." I stated at my feet at I walked, but my hands tightened at my sides. 'It'. He called me an it.
Half way down a hallway, he stopped and shoved me against the wall, making me cry out. "Shut your mouth. You are here for nothing more than my pleasure. As such, you will not speak unless I directly order you to. And you will call me Master. You are the lowest of the low in this house, and any report of bad behavior and you. Will. Be. Punished. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, master." I muttered, looking at the man straight in the face. He slapped me. Harder than Alex or Scott, or even Ben, had.
"And another thing. You will never look anyone in the eye. That would make you seen like their equal." He snarled and stepped back. Then his hand wrapped tightly around my upper arm and he pushed me down the hall and into a room. It wasn't too shabby of a room. As he shoved me in, I risked a look. His face was a twisted mask. He shut and locked the door, turning to smile at me, through it was a cruel smile.
I stood there, all the while, watching him, shaking. I had never known fear until now.
He moved over to me and laid a soft hand on my cheek, cooing. "Is the little whore scared?" His cooing turned to sneering and I just stared at my feet. I knew, somehow, that he would kill me, and enjoy every second of it.
His hand went to the shirt Nicole stuck me in, tugging at it, then whispering in my ear. "You are asking for this, wearing clothes like this, you fucking slut."
Somehow, I managed to get a single, strangle word past my lips.
"N-no." Tears streamed down my face, smearing my makeup.
He back-handed me, making me fall to the ground. "You remember what I told you?" He snarled. Gone was the pleasant faced man who had bought me. "Now shut up."
The shirt must have been made for this purpose because it came away with very little pull from the man. He growled and tossed it aside, ordering my to my feet.
I stood slowly, my legs feeling like jelly under me as I stood before him, shirtless, relying on the thin band of shorts to cover me. He stepped towards me, making me back up, then he shove me viciously. I fell back into a bed and he climbed on top of me, straddling my hips. He leaned in and kissed my unyielding lips.
He drew back, but occupied himself with me in another way. He shifted back and ran his hands on the outsides of my thighs, slipping them into my shorts. I tried to get him off, tried to stop this, but he was bigger than I was. He drew his hands back and snarled.
"Fine. You want it the hard way?" He climbed off of me and ordered me to follow. I did as told, stumbling after him, feeling disgusting. It felt like where ever he had touched me, he left tar. He lead me through the house, like he was parading me, a shirtless, scared seventeen year old toy, for all his employees to see.
Then, we reached a door. He swung it open, revealing a set of stairs down to a dark basement, and told me to go first. I did so, just waiting for him to push me or strangle me. But we reached the bottom and he kept his hands to himself. He skittered around me, like a cockroach, his hands rubbing together. He led me into a damp room.
I froze at the door. There was a single, old bed that looked like a tourtue device on its own, with a huge array of "toys", From chains to vibrators to a huge assortment of whips and other pain inducing devices. None of it looked pleasing.
"You will strip. Now. Or the consequences will not be so fun." He growled. I didn't dare risk it and I did as he told me.
"Eh." Was all he said as he walked around me, like a shark waiting to attack. Then his hand snaked around and grabbed my member.
"Oh!" I gasped, eyes widening as he gave it a hard squeeze. Then he let me go and pushed me roughly towards the bed.
I say on the edge, staring at the ground. His feet appeared in my field of vision and he pushed at my shoulder, forcing me down. He was naked. I froze.
"You know what, my little slut? On the floor." He pointed and I scrambled off the bed. He sat on the edge and motioned me over. "Suck." He ordered. I resisted his hand on my arm until he uttered a threat so soft I almost missed. "Trust me boy, you do not want to disobey me."
Trying to stop the tears, I dropped to my knees. I reached up and wiped my eyes, probably smearing my make up. Then, forcing myself to retreat into a space in my head, I did as he ordered.
First, I kissed up and down his shaft, then took him in my mouth, but after that, it was all him. He snatched up a fistful of my hair and held my head stationary as he thrust himself into my mouth. I wanted to die, but to raise my chances of survival, I tried to dislodge his hand from my hair.
"Don't fight me." He snarled, pausing. I took this opportunity to run my tongue up the side of his dick. He moaned.
"Damn boy." He then jerked me back by my hair, forcing a cry of pain out of me. He the narrowed his eyes, almost thoughtfully, as he stated at me.
"Oh, I know exactly what to do with you." He smiled, looking like a serpent, then pointed to the bed. "Lay down. On your stomach, and do not look at me." He ordered and I quickly climbed onto creaking bed, my heart pounding as I did what he said. I heard him moving around, heard the jingling of various items of the wall. Then it went silent. I couldn't tell where he was, not over my heart and my head, both screaming at me that in was going to die in this hell hole.
Then, there he was, with some sort of gag in his hand. Laughing, he leaned in and gagged me, making the gag painfully tight.
Once again, I lost him. But only for a second, because the bed dipped and his hands, cold to the touch, lifted my hips. Then, with no warning, he slammed into me, making me let out a muffled scream of pain.
"Oh, god!" I sobbed into the gag as he withdrew then repeated the process. Saliva dripped down my face with my inability to close my mouth or swallow.
Everyone always said it was such a beautiful experience, losing your virginity. But this was not that. There was no love, no passion in here. No. This was not what they said it was. I was being split open. It felt like in was being cut open with hot knives. I felt something warm trickle down my legs. Blood. I knew, only from the pain, that it couldn't be anything else. I sobbed even louder, mind dizzy with pain.
"You feel so good." He said over my pleas, panting as he thrust into me.
"Just shoot me! Please! End it!" I cried, fingers digging into the mattress, my nails dragging painfully on the material.
They always said sex was an experience all on its own, the pants, the build up to your high, the release, but I felt none of that. I felt defiled. I felt disgusting. I felt...powerless.
That realization hit me hard. I had never before felt so powerless. Even as a kid, when I had to get a shot or anything, my parents always waited until I was ready before they let the nurse go ahead. But now? Nothing I did mattered. I could fight, fight with all my strength, and end up dead in a ditch somewhere, my parents never knowing, or I could do as he said and like life as a living sex toy, simply alive for his pleasure. But I was completely powerless.
I had no say in my future anymore.
At that moment, my spirit broke. I knew which option I was to do. I know which option was the one I would choose. I was nothing more than that, simply a toy for his pleasure, that could make noise.
Over my thoughts, I heard one thing, his scream as he shot into me. I was disgusted with myself.
Worthless whore! Slut! Cunt! Fuckboy! My head screamed as he pulled out of me.
"You stay right where you are." Obediently, I froze, moving not even an eyelash. He returned and cuffed me to the bed post.
"Good night, you damn slut." He then hit me, repeatedly. My screams were muffled by the gag. As he hit me, he repeated the names out loud that my head was screaming at me inside.
Then he left me there. Tied up.
Powerless.
In the dark, around my sobs, I gave one single silent plea.
Help.