“Open your fucking mouth, or I’ll make you choke on it.”
I groan in shame and obey. Spider hums in satisfaction and slides in and out. When I try to close my mouth and push him out, he cups my jaw with one hand and the back of my head with the other. He glides in and out, slow, long strokes while trapping my head for his pleasure.
“Mmm. That’s it. Let me fuck your perfect mouth until I come.”
Lord help me, how is this so incredibly hot? The feel of his huge, rough hands imprisoning my head while he pleasures himself with my mouth… I’m so wet my sex is throbbing.
“Oh, fuck. So perfect, Wildcat.”
He growls, and then suddenly he’s thrusting in and out of my mouth fast and hard. His hardness turns even stiffer, his grip on my head tightens, and his cockhead is tapping the back of my throat.
I gag and choke, and he rumbles, a deep, greedy sound, as if it makes him hotter.
I scream around him in rage and fight for air. His grip tightens, a vice on my head and jaw, and he’s grunting hungrily, taking my mouth like the animal he is.
It’s a sin, it’s utterly humiliating, and I love it.
“Oh, shit, yeah!” he roars. “Greedy little thief, you’ll make me come so hard.”
One more grunt, and Spider spills his seed into my mouth and down my throat. I gag, trying to spit it up, but he keeps my head still, keeps my mouth full of his length, leaving me no choice but to drink his juices down.
“That’s it. Swallow every drop.”
My throat works. The taste of him is almost too much. The heat of his seed burns in my belly, hot and poisonous. My stomach roils with hatred for him, with humiliation with myself.
Spider hums in approval and pulls out of my mouth. He paints my lips with his cockhead, coating them with his come. His chest rises and falls hard on big growly breaths, and when he directs my gaze to his, I hate what I see there. His eyes gleam with triumph and mocking satisfaction as he drinks in the sight of my lips wet with his seed. A conqueror’s smile twists his lips.
“See? Was that so bad?” he purrs.
Rage sears my blood, burning away any need for the submission the Colony drilled into me. “Get. Away. From. Me,” I snarl.
He grins. “Never. Fuck, you felt so good, I can’t wait to feel your pussy milking me like that.”
“You touch me, and I’ll claw your eyes out.”
His cock jerks at my words, stirring to life.
“My Little Wildcat.”
“You’re an animal,” I spit.
He taps me on the nose. “I have to give you another mouth full soon.” He tucks himself away and does up his pants. Then he goes in behind me and unwinds his belt from my arms, freeing my hands.
I work my arms and shoulders. The same need for retribution I felt at the strip club burns my insides. I want to break this man’s jaw.
When I start getting to my feet, he grabs my shoulder, keeping me on my knees. “Stay there until I’m gone.”
Footsteps pad across the carpet. I look over my shoulder. Spider slips on his vest and then holsters his gun.
His cell phone vibrates, and he picks it up, scowling at the screen.
“Looks like I got some business to take care of.” He pockets the phone and comes around in front of me. “Get some sleep.” He strokes me under the chin and jerks his chin toward his bed. “You’ll need all your energy for what I’m going to do to you tomorrow.”
I jerk my face away from his touch, my stomach roiling at the thought of what other sick, twisted things he intends to do to me.
He chuckles. “So perfect. I love it when you fight me. Never change, Wildcat. Be seeing you soon.”
Before I can come up with a suitable reply, he opens the door, and then he’s gone, shutting the bedroom door behind him and leaving me alone with my dark, malicious thoughts.
I need to get out of this place before he comes back, and not just because of what he might do to me when he returns.
I need to get out of here before he comes back, because if I don’t, I’ll end up committing the worst sin of all—killing him.
5
Waiting
For several minutes after Spider leaves, I can’t bring myself to move.
My thoughts spin, scattered and useless as I desperately try to process what just happened.
For what feels like hours but is probably less than a minute, I remain kneeling on his bedroom floor. It feels as if my brain has disconnected from my body, and it’s playing catch-up, struggling to come to grips with something that’s too big to fit inside my head.
A few weeks before I escaped the Colony, my best friend Sarah had been caught stealing food from one of the pantry sheds on Pastor Seth’s farm. Seth had been away on business, and I recall feeling a certain relief for her that it wouldn’t be him who dealt with her transgression.
Until I saw what was going to happen to her. Until I saw her being dragged by two guards past those of us who were working in his fields, straight for what the pastors called the Circle of Retribution.
A crowd of us were made to watch while she was tied to the whipping tree. Even now, I can still hear the swish and the crack of the belt echoing in my ears each time she was struck.
I have no memory of what happened or what anyone said to me for several hours following that incident. What I do remember is sitting on my bed sometime later, too angry, too shell shocked to process anything. The rest of the world ceased to exist while what I’d seen cycled through my head as if it was on an endless loop.
Kneeling on the carpet in Spider’s bedroom, this is exactly how I feel now. I can’t move, can’t think about anything but what he’d just did. Shell shock locks my brain down, blocking out all else.
True, what Spider did doesn’t hold a candle to what Sarah went through. He didn’t hurt me. I won’t have nightmares for the rest of my life or be haunted by the feel of him taking my mouth. He could have done something much worse. I’m lucky he didn’t.
But still. What happened here did leave a scar of sorts. It left a taint on my soul I will never be able to wash away. It changed me. I will never be the person I was before he took me here.
As with that incident in the Colony, I’m shaking with adrenaline. Anger and indignation burn in my veins like fire. Helplessness seizes me in a stranglehold. And that same awareness sets in—I’m trapped in a situation that, if I don’t escape, is going to get a lot worse.
I close my eyes, but it doesn’t shut out the image of the lust in Spider’s eyes as he pushed himself into my mouth. It doesn’t block out the feel of his hands trapping my head like vises as he took his pleasure.
In the Colony, I’d hated myself for not stopping what they’d done to my friend. I hadn’t saved her from the horror of what she’d endured. Here and now, that same self-loathing over my inaction sets in, eating at my insides like acid.
Only this time I hate myself for a different reason. I hate myself because I didn’t stop Spider from taking my mouth the way a husband takes his wife.
I should have been able to. How, I don’t know, but I should have.
Pushing to my feet, I look around the room, groping for my next move, for a plan. Men’s voices drift from the barroom down the hall, and from the rooms near this one. I won’t be getting out that way.