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This fucking bastard. He’s excited. I can already feel his erection growing. He might be pissed, so angry his hand shakes where he holds me with his pent up rage. But he’s excited too. Excited to punish me. To belittle and degrade me. To make me prove my worth to him in any way he deems necessary in order to keep the guys and myself out of prison.
I turn my head away from him, refusing to play this game of his how he wants. I’m trapped, but even a bird with clipped wings can fight back. They just have to be a little more strategic about it.
“That’s okay,” he mocks me. “Rumor has it words aren’t the best thing your mouth is made for anyway.” Without warning, his foot knocks into mine at the same time he shoves down on my shoulders, making me fall to my knees in front of him.
I finally meet his eyes and wish I hadn’t. A sick gleam gives away the perverse fantasy already running through his mind as he watches me. He can’t be serious.
“Carson,” I start, fear pushing out every rational thought from my brain. “I don’t. I haven’t.” I can’t even seem to string together full thoughts as he begins to rub himself through his pants. His intentions are clear and I’ve never felt so sick in my life.
He bends over to grip my face, his fingernails embedding into my cheeks as he squeezes roughly. “No arguments, Brielle. I don’t want to hear it. Prove your worth or spend the rest of your life in prison.”
I think I would rather be in prison. I’ve already endured so much, but I just don’t think I can do this. I don’t know how to just be okay with it.
“Don’t forget, it isn’t only your life on the line,” he reminds me. Tears burn my eyes, clogging my throat and making me choke. “One tap on my phone and it could ruin all their lives. Do you really want to be responsible for that?” I shake my head. “Then prove it like the good little bitch I know you can be.”
A sob gets lodged in my chest as he releases my face and the sound of his zipper fills the deafening silence. The whirring from earlier begins to slowly build as I give Carson what he wants. Submission. It’s me or the guys. I’ll pay the price for their freedom every time.
“I’ve never,” I start to admit, but it only makes Carson grow harder and I stop talking.
“Never done this before?” he asks. “Don’t worry. I’ll teach you.” He taps the head of his dick against my lips. I want to fight back, to bite it as hard as I can. Make him bleed. Make him cry out with the same anguish and agony tearing through my soul right now. My teeth dig into my lower lip and the coppery tang of blood floods my mouth.
“Open the fuck up, Brielle.”
This isn’t it. I don’t have an escape yet. I will, but it’s not right now. The only thing I can do is comply. Submit to survive and fight another day. It isn’t giving up, I promise myself as tears spill over and run down my cheeks. It’s doing what I have to do for the men I love. For the life I still wish to have one day. I can’t do that behind bars.
This isn’t giving up, it’s just biding my time. I might not be strong enough to get out of this position, but I’m strong enough to endure until I can win. He can force me to my knees, but he can never make me bow. Not to him.
I open my mouth and the whirring grows even louder. Carson wastes not a second before he thrusts into the back of my throat making me choke and gag. His hand makes its way into my hair and he holds me in place roughly, cursing me out the entire time. Everything hurts. My eyes blur with the tears, my scalp burns where he yanks on my hair, and my throat aches with each punishing thrust.
That whirring sound fills my ears, growing louder and louder. Helping me detach from the situation. To feel as if I’m not even in my body anymore. As if I’m just a spectator. Yet, I can still feel the pain and shame of every moment of this torture. Of the heaviness of him against my tongue, the saltiness that taunts me with an ending that feels just out of reach.
He fucks my face roughly until even my chest tightens in an effort to get enough air. Even that doesn’t seem to stop him though. I shut my eyes, not wanting to be here. Not wanting to witness anymore of my own downfall.
A sharp slap against my cheek makes my eyes flare back open. “Keep your fucking eyes on me,” he pants between brutal thrusts. “I don’t want you picturing one of those assholes while you’re on your knees for me.”
More tears spill down my cheeks at his words. I could never picture any of my boys using and degrading me like this. It wouldn’t be possible for them to make me feel this small. This worthless. Ironic how Carson wanted me to prove my worth and yet here I am, feeling like nothing.
It could have been two minutes or two hours later that he finally lets out a grunt and his come coat the back of my throat. He keeps me tightly locked against him, my nose almost touching his pelvic bone as he gives me no choice but to swallow.
As soon as he releases me, I crumple to the ground. I have no strength to do anything but lie here and cry and hate myself even more than I did yesterday.
Carson chuckles to himself as the sound of his zipper once again fills the room. “At least you’ve finally learned your place. It’ll be a lot easier for you if you stop fighting it.”
With those haunting words, he leaves the way he came. Slamming the door behind him, like what just happened meant completely and utterly nothing.
I know this isn't over. These accusations won’t just disappear and I doubt that will be the last time Carson punishes me for it.
I pick myself up off the floor and force myself into the bathroom. I barely make it to the toilet before I’m throwing up all over again. There’s not enough toothpaste in the world to rid myself of the taste he left lingering in my mouth. But I do my best to get rid of it anyways. I brush furiously, crying and gasping for breath as I do. Nothing helps. I choke down mouthwash and still the essence of him lingers and all I can do is fall apart and pray I can come back together.
Sleep. Sleep will make everything better. I just need to sleep and then I’ll come up with a plan later. With that thought in mind, I lower myself to the cold floor and close my eyes.
Most of the day has passed by the time I wake up and I ignore the ache in the back of my mouth and the red stains on my cheeks as I drag myself from the bathroom floor. Shelby will be on her way back here soon, if she isn’t already, and I need to get out of here until I don’t look like such a fucking wreck.
I don’t even grab my bag, only stopping to pull an oversized sweatshirt on and pull the hood up over my head. I walk out of the door with nothing but my key and no idea where to go. Campus is busy with the activity at the end of the day but it helps me get lost in a crowd of people all happily making their way to dinner and other fun plans with no idea that my world is falling apart.
It’s only when I look around and see their smiling faces that the pressure on my chest I have been trying to ignore starts to hurt. My heart pounds loudly in my ears as I look at them and see nothing but blank empty faces of people I don’t know or care about. Why am I all alone?
The tears that threaten to escape now only cause me more shame and I suddenly have no desire to be lost out in the crowd anymore. I need silence. I need peace. I need somewhere I can breathe and be invisible. When I spot the library I don’t hesitate, I stalk right towards it, push open the doors and storm inside until I am lost deep in the stacks and struggling to catch my breath.
