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“Do you think I can’t afford a maid? I don’t want a maid.”
He pushes his pants down and fists his hard dick. I try to turn away again, but his grip on my face tightens.
“Look at it. Have you seen one before?”
An idea comes to me, and I nod.
“You have?”
“Yes,” I say.
“Are you a virgin?”
“No,” I answer quickly, though it’s a lie.
His nostrils flare, and his eyes darken. I shrink away, and he lets go of my face, but only to smack me hard.
“You slut! How dare your mother lie to me!”
He strikes me a second time, and I taste the distinct metallic flavor of blood filling my mouth.
“Fuck it. I’m getting my money’s worth out of you anyway,” he growls.
My head is ringing while I watch him strip out of his pants and climb onto the bed.
Adrenaline kicks in, and I start screaming at the top of my lungs for someone to help me.
“Fuck you’re loud. You’re hurting my ears.”
His hand clamps around my throat and the scream dies instantly.
I watch in horror, barely able to breathe, unable to move while he rubs his dick up and down my pussy. Suddenly he thrusts his cock inside me, and my world explodes in pain. I scream despite his hand around my throat, and blinding hot tears trail down my cheeks.
“You fucking liar,” he says, but I barely hear him.
The searing pain is all I can focus on.
“You are a virgin and so fucking tight.”
He leers down at me, and even though I can hardly see him through my tears, I know that I’ll never forget his face.
A wail of pain that goes deeper than the physical leaves me when he removes his hand from my throat, but only so he can get more leverage. He begins to move, and there is nothing nice or tender about the loud grunting and force he uses to rock the bed.
Closing my eyes, I can’t believe that this is happening. How can my mother do this to me?
My mind drifts to the swing at the playground near our shitty apartment building. I can sit there for hours watching the smiling families and imagining that I am a part of their world. Worlds where I eat home-cooked meals, and we argue over which movie to watch together. That is where I go now.
I can’t say if it’s five minutes or five hours before he finally climbs off me. There is no part of my body that doesn’t hurt, including my face. My eye is swollen shut.
I don’t move. Not to scream or try to escape. I play possum. Pretending to be dead to live seems as good a plan as any, and sure enough, he unties my legs first, then my left hand. It is the hardest thing I’ve ever done to wait while he walks around the bed.
“Your mother was right. You just needed to be broken. Definitely worth the money,” he says, untying my right hand.
When he bends down to reach for something on the floor, I swing my feet around and kick him as hard as I can. He flies into the wall with a hard thud and hits his head.
“Bitch,” he groans.
I roll off the bed on the other side, ignoring the ache and sharp pain that rips through my body. My fingers shake as I grab his pants and dig around for the key to the door. I hear him moving behind me and know I don’t have much time. When I wrap my fingers around the small piece of metal, it feels like a lifeline.
