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Please, don’t beat me. Please, don’t beat me.
The canes, floggers, and whips loomed in my mind. My imagination swelled with the different horrible ways he could kill my unborn child. Gerwin yanked my head back by the hair. My strangled cry died in my throat when I came face to face with his crotch. His cock stood erect in front of me like a bat.
It will never fit.
Before I could protest, Gerwin shoved an open mouth gag with teeth guard between my lips. My eyes bulged as I tried to spit it out. Gerwin clamped his hand over my mouth to keep it in. At the corner of my eyes, I noticed a remote in his other hand. He thumbed the interface, and I felt the gag stretch my jaw wider.
However, Gerwin’s palm on my mouth also covered my nose. Already starved for air, I pulled on my restraints. He chuckled at my vain struggle. I tried to get up, but Gerwin kicked my feet from under me. I fell back on my knees with a loud thud. The violent pull of the chains tore at my wrists anew. It was as if the broken bones of my ribs were trying to pierce through my skin. Each breath, each movement was sheer agony. My struggles faltered as, lungs burning, dark dots appeared before me.
Gerwin’s hand mercifully moved off my face, only to grip the blood-soaked hair at the back of my head. I didn’t care about the pain as I greedily gulped in as much air as my lungs would allow. Without giving me sufficient time to catch my breath, Gerwin tried to shove his turgid shaft into my mouth. However, even though the gag already stretched my mouth to a barely tolerable level, the opening only allowed the tip of his cock to fit in.
When he thumbed the controls again to stretch it further, I gurgled for him to stop, pulling urgently at my shackles. My face was about to split in half.
“I don’t care if I have to break your jaw,” Gerwin said, “I will have my cock down your throat, and then up your cunt. By the time I’m done with you, how pretty you still look won’t matter.”
With a grinding sound followed by searing pain in front of my ears, my jaw unhinged. The room spun and my vision blurred. Gerwin once again tried to fit through the gag’s opening. His thick cock invaded my mouth, the blunt tip hitting the back of my throat.
A blessed veil of darkness enshrouded me.
I came to, feeling the metal plating scraping against my skin as Gerwin dragged me to the bed. The back of my throat felt like a battering ram assaulted it. A sharp pain stabbed at it in sync with my erratic heartbeat. Gerwin tossed me on the bed, and I landed heavily on my broken ribs. I cried out, then coughed blood. Rolling onto my back, the blood and saliva pooling at the back of my mouth nearly choked me. My throat was too bruised to swallow, but the gag keeping my jaw open made my mouth water. I tilted my head to the side so the drool could seep out.
Anton, where are you?
Whether or not Anton was coming, he wouldn’t be here in time to save us. Gerwin parted my legs, preparing to enter me. Even with the Denax he used, I wouldn’t survive him pounding into me. If I was to live through this, I had to save myself. But how? He was too strong, and I was too weak and battered.
Gerwin tried to slam his cock home but met with too much resistance. The tip of his cock entering me felt like a fist. I screamed, my back arching off the bed. A sharp sting at the back of my head forced me to turn to the side.
My hairpin.
My fucking hairpin! Why hadn’t that registered the first time? I raised a hand to my hair, fumbling through it, trying to get the pin out. My fingers brushed over the bald spot, and I felt my gorge rose. Gerwin leaned over me, lifting my leg to open me wider. He tried to ram himself in again. I screamed, causing my dislocated jaw to flare with agony. Tears and snot ran down my face. My blood coated fingers struggled with the pin latched in my hair. When Gerwin tried to pound in a third time, I felt my core begin to tear. I’m not sure if he gained an inch, but when he lifted my other leg over his shoulders, I knew the next time would kill me.
With all my remaining strength, I ripped the hairpin loose, pulling some of my hair with it. I closed my fist around its jeweled end and wielded the five-inch hairpin like a dagger. Blinded by rage, I stabbed at Gerwin’s eye. I overshot and struck his forehead instead. He roared, pulling his head back. The movement caused the hairpin to tear a long gash down to the middle of his cheek. He slapped a hand over his wounded eye.
The sight of blood pouring down his face and the sound of his pain awakened the most primal part of me. I didn’t want to flee anymore; I wanted blood, to maim, to kill.
I stabbed at him in a frenzy. The first swing missed, but the second one sank into the meaty cheek just below his other eye. The bone prevented it from digging deeper. I slashed down, splitting his cheek open. Blood sprayed my face. The satisfying wet sound of his flesh ripping fueled my bloodlust. Gerwin stumbled back, his good eye looking at me with both pain and shock. With a growl-like cry, I lunged for his face again, but he took a step back. The pin landed in his jugular notch. Before I could move away, Gerwin grabbed me by the upper arm and tossed me across the room.
I crashed against the chest of drawers and thumped to the floor, the wind knocked out of me. Shock snapped me out of my haze. The agony radiating from my broken ribs and the excruciating throbbing of my dislocated jaw came back to the forefront, even more acute than before. Struggling to remain conscious, I glanced at Gerwin who kneeled hunched over on the floor. Blood trickled from the wound, indicating I had missed the aorta. But the wheezing sound coming from him confirmed I punctured his airway.
Leaning on the chest for support, I hauled myself up. Each movement fueled the torment from my injuries. My eyes zeroed in on the remote resting atop the chest. I grabbed it and stumbled around the bondage bench to the bathroom.
Gerwin’s angry growl behind me spurred me on.
“I’m going to fucking kill you,” Gerwin hissed after me.
Throwing myself inside the bathroom, I slammed the door close behind me. I activated the manual lock. Seconds later, I heard Gerwin ram his massive frame against the door. It shook but showed no sign of caving in. I thanked my lucky stars that the ship was an older model with thick armored steel doors.
He continued banging on the door, no doubt thinking his Braxian strength would suffice – but the door held. I could hear him cursing me. Tuning him out, I took stock of my injuries. I didn’t know the bruised and harried creature that looked back at me in the mirror. The gag holding my mouth open exposed the damage to my throat. With my red eyes and bloated face covered in blood, I looked like a creature from the depths of hell.
Although I knew it couldn’t stay on, the thought of removing the gag terrified me. The pressure on my jaw was horrendous, but how much worse would it hurt removing it? As I lifted the remote control to shrink the gag, my entire body began to shake so violently I had to stop and get my fears under control. The substantial pressure would cause irreparable damage in the long run – it needed to come off. I repeated this like a mantra to work up my courage. After the third false start, I began resizing it, pausing from time to time when the pain became unbearable.
A sizzling sound soon followed by the scent of burnt metal drew my attention. A dark spot appeared on the door before turning red as a laser torch worked through it. I stared in horror at the slowly expanding cut.
The door is thick. It will take a long time to cut through.
Once more, I felt grateful this was an older ship. I placed a protective hand over my stomach, refusing to believe Gerwin had killed my son. His parents were survivors. He must be as well.
“You hang on too, you hear me? Don’t you dare give up.”
