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It’s wild and raw.
It’s frightening and erotic.
It’s sinful.
And strapped to a wooden frame on the far side of the room is me.
Vulnerable.
Alone…
Until I’m not.
Until a man old enough to be my father steps away from the group of people watching Six get fucked, and turns his attention to me, cock in hand, obsession in his eyes.
The Baron.
I know it without needing to be introduced. This is the man who wants to fuck me because I look like his daughter.
Inside I scream loudly trying to wake up my body, to force life into my limbs. But it’s no use.
I’m cast adrift. My body cannot respond to my commands.
I’m sleeping beauty… and this man approaching isn’t a beast but a monster.
A different kind to The Masks.
But no less a monster.
Looking about the room, the man checks to see if anyone’s watching him. When he realises no one is, his greedy fingers creep over my skin as he squeezes and gropes.
Inside I’m screaming, my lungs are bruised, my heart bleeding.
“Why are you still dressed? I want to see you bare, my darling petal,” he says, pressing his spittle-covered lips against my neck. “Let me see you.”
He reaches up to the neck of my dress and tears the material. It splits down the front, baring my breasts for him. He grabs hold of them, licking his lips hungrily. “Pretty pink buds,” he says. When I don’t react he grins, smiling widely. “You can’t move, can you? Oh, how glorious!”
When his fingers reach my crotch, he yanks at the lock then hisses, but that doesn’t seem to phase him. Instead he fists his cock then crouches low, his lips hovering over my breast. “I bet you taste just like the dirty little whore that you are, petal. I’m going to enjoy this.”
I can’t even close my eyes on what’s about to happen. All I can do is look into the distance and take his abuse as he lowers his mouth to my nipple and sucks.
Get off me!I shout, willing my body to come alive.
He makes these disgusting slurping noises, and even though I can’t feel what he’s doing, I can hear him, see him and it makes me want to simultaneously rip his head off and curl up into a ball.
How could they do this? How could The Masks leave me vulnerable like this? I thought I was theirs? My blood boils with anger, with frustration, with hate, withdisappointment.
I shouldn’t have expected any less. They’ve never lied to me. They’ve never given me any reason to believe that they care, that I mean more to them than a possession, an object, a toy.
I should’ve expected this. I should’ve run earlier. I should’ve killed Leon when I had the chance. I should’ve… should’ve… should’ve…
“Oh yes,” the Baron moans, jacking off as he sucks on me, moving from one nipple to the other.
Both of us are too caught up in this moment, me in a nightmare, the Baron living out his sick fantasy, that we don’t see what’s about to happen.
Cold air rushes over my skin, and half a beat later, the Baron grunts, slamming into me. He lets out a scream of shock, pushing off me and stumbling backwards, the handle of a knife sticking out of his left shoulder, the blade buried deep into his flesh.
He howls, eyes widening, blood draining from his face, his cock going flaccid.
