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“What? Why?” I ask, the grip around my thighs tightening.
He drops my body and I fall to the floor with a thud. My eyes drag over his heavy black military boots, past his black denim jeans, and past the dark hoodie which hung off his body.
“I just explained,” red mask says, kneeling in front of me, gripping his hands around my knees and spreading my legs wide open. “Don’t make me repeat myself, nun. You won’t like me pissed.”
“I don’t like you much right now,” I whisper as his hands skim up my inner thighs slowly. My eyes close as his fingers find the button of my pants and he unclips them with one swift movement.
“Even better for me.” His voice heavy as he throws my pants to the side near my blouse and bra. “Get angry, nun. It will make this so much sweeter for me. Trust me when I say your pain is the fuel to my pleasure, your disgust is the igniter, and the way your sweet cunt will taste around my tongue will be your fucking rapture.” His hands grip around the rim of my underwear as he tears them off roughly.
“Please,” I attempt to plead with him. “Please don’t do this.” Tears pool in my eyes before overflowing down my cheeks.
He crawls over top of me, causing me to lay flat on my back from his invasion. The light pebbles which are scattered all over the cement floor press into my back making their presence known. “That’s it baby,” he growls, his voice dropping to a deathly low tone. “Talk dirty to me.” His leg rests between mine before his next one follows. I attempt to fight it, but when my gaze locks onto the green haze which lie behind the mask, I flinch inwardly and submit, spreading them wide to accommodate him more.
“Are you going to rape me?” My voice crackles as the words leave my mouth.
He props himself up on his elbows, his thick bulge pressing into my core as he circles his hips. My eyes close again as I attempt to think past what is happening right now. I have nothing, I had hoped that Melissa would be here by now. I know it’s been over twenty-four hours and no one has shown, so my chances are looking slim.
“It’s only considered rape if you don’t want it,” he states, watching my eyes closely. My nipples harden against his heavy chest and I curse at myself. I’m cracking in his very hands as everything I’ve ever known or lived for grows more and more meaningless as the hours pass by. Who will I be once this is all over? Will this ever be over? “You want it, don’t you, nun.” That wasn’t a question; that was him confirming his suspicions.
My jaw clenches. “No. I’ll never want you.” My nipples may harden, my most private part may be enjoying having something pressed against it, but I won’t give them my pleasure. I refuse. They may taste my body, but I won’t let them feast on my soul.
“We’ll see about that.” He watches me closely, his fingers finding the middle of my thighs instantly, and my back arches as his fingers invade me. My teeth snap down on my lower lip until it draws blood and it swells inside my mouth. “You feel that, nun?” he whispers. “That’s your body responding to me!” he declares. His thumb presses onto my nub, sending a jolt of electrifying pleasure rippling from between my thighs up towards my arms before exiting through my fingertips.
“No!” I cry out, my chest heaving as the breaths I struggle to inhale pull through me. “You can’t have it.” I shake my head from left to right.
His pressure intensifies as his circling becomes quicker in the hopes I let go. I won’t. I won’t do it. His other hand trails up my taut stomach towards my breasts as he pinches them roughly between his fingers again, setting off that similar sting on the very same nipple. A cry escapes my throat as tears trickle down my temple and run over my skull.
“Just kill me, please.” He doesn’t. His circling continues before his finger invades me roughly with long, thick strokes. My walls pulse, clenching around his finger, and I cry out louder this time. “Please! No!” Why is my body feeling like this? Why? Why does something that should disgust me, because it does, have the opposite effect on my body? I feel betrayed, pure betrayal from my own self, and my tears intensify. He presses his body down over mine, his hand still working its same tricks on me as his hips thrust into mine roughly, following his hands movements.
“Let go,” he orders. My head moves from side to side in thrashes as I attempt to shut out what is going on around me. The walls aren’t really concrete; they’re of the finest wallpaper. This floor? It isn’t cold hard cement; it’s of the finest plush carpet. It’s all a nightmare until I realize it isn’t. This nightmare is my reality. Bile rises up in my throat, leaving acidity in its wake.
He’s not going to stop, not unless I pretend like it has worked. The need to release is there, but the feeling of disgust and violation is more prominent. My lips tremble as more tears flow down my face.
My hand goes up to cup around my mouth as I let a guttural moan form my pretend release sound throughout the room. Fear zaps through me briefly. What if he finds out that I faked it? When his grip loosens from between my thighs, welcoming the cool air to brush over my center, I sigh inwardly at realizing I may have gotten away with it. I can’t let them have it. It’s what little part I have to hold onto and I will not be giving it away on a silver platter for anyone. The day I lose my willpower will be the day I lose myself.
MILLIE “Day 2”
My night ended when I “came”. The red masked man had done his deed and evacuated the room. Last night, I curled myself up in a ball and cried myself to sleep. I cried for a part of the girl I lost that day. I cried that that was part of me I’d never get back, but finally, I cried because I knew I had five more days plus another to endure and I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to cope with it.
My sleep was disrupted numerous times throughout the night. I swear I could hear voices whispering within these walls, but chalked it up to slowly losing my mind. I feared for what was going to happen once I finally did snap. I’d hoped I wouldn’t. I’d hoped I was strong enough to endure what else was going to be thrown at me, but I was wrong…so very wrong.
My hair is now matted to my face. The red-masked man had taken my clothes upon his exit, thus leaving me in nothing but my nakedness on display for the world. All I have in my tiny damp cell is a rug blanket, which has rips and tears in it. There are blue balloons with yellow strings dangling off of them patterned into the material, making me think that it had maybe once been owned by a young boy or baby. It’s all I had and it barely covered my soiled skin, but I made do, resting it over myself to cover what I could as I attempted to get sleep last night, and now where it’s resting on my lap.
My heavy cell door slides open, the screeching sound I’m becoming so familiar with pierces my ears. Heavy footsteps thud across the floor as my body tenses and I pull the blanket up toward my chin. Clinking metal sounds out in my ears and I fight the urge to look up to see what is going on.
“Up, nun. It’s playtime,” a deep voice announces from across the empty cell. Fear ripples through me again as my eyes slowly close. Breathe.
“Please,” I begin, a light sob escaping me. “Please just kill me now and get it over with.” My eyes remain closed with nothing in my vision but bleak darkness.
The loud footsteps slowly draw up closer to me before a shadow casts over my shut lids. “Where’s the fun in that? Necrophilia isn’t really my thing.” His head tilts, the distinctive black mask hiding his face. “Today you’re going to learn the ins and outs of the human anatomy. Well, rather, a man’s anatomy.”
My eyes remain trained on the floor, my head resting to the side of the cold concrete floor. Silent tears stroll down my cheek.
“Why? Why do I need to do this? I don’t understand,” I whisper flatly. I’m losing my fight, my will to live. As each day passes, a piece of me is ripped away.
“You’ll know in good time, nun.” He taps my leg. “For now? You need to play nice. You’ve seen nothing yet.” His voice darkens towards the end of his threat. I push myself up until I’m sitting up with my back leaning against the wall, pulling the little blue blanket with me to cover my most private parts. He laughs. “No use covering yourself; your dignity is gone now.” He snatches the blanket off me with a cold whoosh of air that assaults my flesh. My arms come up and cross against my breasts as I pull my knees up to my chest to cover my core.
Black mask stands in front of me, his hands going to his belt buckle and unlatching the metal hinge. A knife pangs into my chest with what’s about to happen and my face scrunches as my eyes close.
