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When the man lifts her head and calls her name, a name she hates, her eyes leave the bucket to meet his. His short brown hair is already receding, and his dark eyes show nothing but lecherous desire. He doesn’t have a shirt on and his chest his hairy. She remembers feeling the bristled strands on her own chest and against her back. He likes to rub it against her open wounds.
He doesn’t say anything, just bends to pick up the bucket and set it in front of the bed, then sits on the edge. The girl moves robotically to the bucket. She knows what he wants, and she hates it.
On the one hand, the thought of being clean again sends a small thrill through the girl, but knowing what she’ll have to go through to get clean is what makes her stomach revolt. She’s not allowed to bathe very often, and she both dreads and looks forward to the occasion. Not sure if it’s luck or if it’s a curse, the man leaves ointment in the room for the girl’s open wounds. He also makes her swallow a nasty smelling medicine every so often to ward off infections.
She gets down on her knees, making sure to keep her legs spread apart, and grabs the yellow sponge from the soapy water. Her eyes stay glued to the man in front of her, just as he wants, and she lifts it to her arm. The cold, soapy water and sponge sting against the slices on her arm, but she doesn’t wince. After cleaning one arm, she switches to the next, never taking her eyes off the man. He watches her with impatient eyes.
The man’s body vibrates as he watches the girl clean herself. When she’s done with her arms and face, he unzips his pants and pulls out his hard cock. A drop of precum drips from the tip. He swipes it with a finger and leans forward. Without having to ask, she opens her mouth, and he sticks it inside. Anger hits his chest when she closes her eyes, so he shoves his finger to the back of her throat, making her gag. But it has the desired effect when she opens her eyes again.
“Suck,” the man says angrily.
She wants so badly to bite his finger but knows she would regret that mistake, so she does as he says. A minute later, he pulls his finger from her mouth, and she goes back to washing herself.
With fresh water in the sponge, she moves it to her breasts. The man sits back, his dick back in his hand, stroking himself. His greedy eyes follow the movements of the sponge as it glides over the slopes of her small tits. Tits he’s bitten so hard he’s drawn blood and left scars. His mouth waters at the thought of when he’ll do that again.
She dips the sponge in the bucket again, and his dick grows more when she runs it down her stomach, leaving a trail of suds behind until she meets the hair between her legs. His strokes become faster on his shaft, and he can feel the buildup of his orgasm coming. He slows his movements, not ready to come yet. Other things still need to be done first.
The girl runs the sponge over her sex, forcing herself to keep her eyes on the man in front of her. This is the part she hates the most. It’s the part she has to work really hard not to vomit during. Once her privates are clean, she drops the sponge back into the bucket. Forcing back tears, she brings her hand back between her legs. She pauses for a second, which brings the man’s eyes back to hers.
“Do it,” he growls menacingly.
Keeping her eyes locked on him for fear of retribution, she places a finger at her opening and pushes it inside. Her skin is slick from washing herself, but inside, she’s painfully dry. Once upon a time, shame would have her shaking, but shame has no place in her life now. It’s a useless emotion she no longer allows herself to feel.
She’s still sore from when he took her earlier. She doesn’t remember a time she hasn’t been sore from him taking her.
“Another.”
She forces another finger inside her. The man pants, and she can smell the sweat covering his body, nearly gagging her. Before he can tell her to, she adds another finger to the first two as if she knows he wants.
He drops to his knees on the floor right in front of her, grabbing her hair and yanking it back to leer down at her. She feels his harsh breathing all over her face and wishes it’ll be over soon. He grunts as he continues to jerk himself. The tip of his dick bounces against her stomach with every few swipes of his hand.
Releasing her hair, he puts a hand on her chest and shoves her backward, forcing her fingers from her privates to catch herself. She lands hard on her butt and scrapes her palms. She doesn’t have time to recover before he grabs her hips roughly and flips her around until she’s on her hands and knees. Knowing he can’t see her face, she closes her eyes tightly.
“Put my dick in you,” he groans, almost lovingly in her ear.
Degrading herself even more, the girl reaches between her legs, grabs his penis, and puts the tip at her center.
Pleasure explodes through the man. This is the part he enjoys most, knowing the girl is helping him put the part of himself inside her that hurts her the most. Knowing she must hate it as much as he loves it.
Once his tip is grazing her opening, he releases one of her hips and grabs the front of her neck, squeezing hard at the same time as surging forward. She’s dry, so it doesn’t go in easily. Her walls scrape against him, pulling the skin on his dick as he forcefully shoves himself inside her. They both feel pain, but whereas the girl whimpers and has to hold back her tears, the man relishes in it. Not because he enjoys feeling pain himself, but because he enjoys knowing she’s in pain.
He constantly fights with himself; because he loves the girl, he doesn’t want to hurt her, but something inside him makes him. It’s like a piece of him hates her, and that small piece dominates during these times. His control always snaps when he’s inside her, and as much as he doesn’t want to think of her being destroyed beyond repair, it always sends elation through him.
The man’s grip tightens on her throat as he thrusts harder. He’s using his grip to force her body back on his dick. Her vision goes dim, and she welcomes the possibility of blacking out. She hopes for it, prays for it.
Her head hangs as her arms go weak. When he puts one finger in her back entrance then shoves in another, and another, she can’t even cry out from the tight grip he has on her throat. Her body slumps to the floor, and he follows her down, landing hard on her back, forcing what breath she has left in her lungs out with a painful whoosh.
Her arms are so weak that her head slams against the concrete when she falls, blurring her vision even more. He slams his hips forward so hard her body scrapes across the floor, leaving behind even more scratches.
He doesn’t loosen his hold on her throat, and her eyes become heavy. She lies there limply with his heavy breathing in her ear and his sweat dripping onto her back. His grunts become louder, and she knows he’s almost done.
With one more final push, he stills, emptying himself into the girl. He removes his hand from her neck, pleased she hasn’t passed out. He yanks her head back by her hair until he can see her face. She’s barely conscious, and seeing her in unbearable pain satisfies him. Leaning forward, he takes her bottom lip between his teeth and pulls hard, tasting blood.
Letting go, he kisses the side of her neck. “You keep my cum in you until I say you can wash it off, Lelu.” He drops her head, and it bangs heavily against the hard concrete.
She lies limply on the floor as he stands, pulls his pants up, grabs the bucket, and leaves the room.
