Chapter 4 #2
She nestled into my chest, our hands clasped together. Tomorrow I would be presented to her father. I dreaded thinking of that moment, so I tried to focus on to the beautiful girl next to me.
“I always see you dressed. You’re not a prude, are you? I’ve seen plenty of naked men and women milling around, but you’re always fully clothed,” I said.
She chuckled slightly, and her soft laughter made my cock stir hard. “I don’t trust anyone to see my body,” she replied.
“Why?”
“Because baring my body would be like baring my soul.”
I looked at her in surprise. “You never showed your body to anyone before?”
“Not since I was fourteen,” she whispered.
“Livvie, I have one last request before I get sent off to be your father’s chew toy,” I said.
“If it’s within my power to grant you that request, then I will,” Livvie said.
“Reveal yourself to me. I want to see you naked.” Mentioning the word brought my cock alive again and it jutted out, trying to find a vagina to pound.
Livvie immediately sat up as she looked at me with a guarded expression. “That’s what you want? To fuck me?”
I ignored my hard dick as I plowed on. “No, you’ve misunderstood. Sex is a bonus. I just want to see your body. I want to see an angel before I get sent down to Hell and get fucked by the Devil. Please, Livvie,” I said.
Her body trembled for a moment and I knew my instincts were right. There was something about her that she her afraid for people to see. And I wanted to know her secret before I left.
“Okay,” she said with a wavering voice. She slipped off the bed and walked to the center of the room.
I propped my elbows as I watched her, trying to figure out her secret but I came up empty. She stood still for a moment with her back turned toward me before slowly turning around, half her face cast in shadows while the rest of her body was bathed under the moonlight.
Olivia took a deep breath before she untied the ribbons on her dress with shaky fingers. I felt bad to see her terrified face. I wanted to hug her and scoop her back to bed and fuck her senseless, but I knew I needed to see this, whatever it was.
“Behold, the circus’ finest freak,” she muttered. As the last ribbon was untied, her dress unravel itself and pooled to the floor.
I jolted out of the bed, ignoring the pain on my back as I stared at her in horror.
She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.
Her pale skin glowed under the moonlight, making her look like she was from another world.
Her long waves of jet black hair tumbled over her delicate shoulders, just barely concealing her pink nipples and perfect breasts.
She was perfect. She was exquisite, the finest creature I’d ever seen.
What was horrifying were the marks on her skin.
They started from her crotch—hundreds of tiny butterflies—they grew bigger and more spread out as they traveled across her abdomen, breasts, and shoulders.
I saw the perfectly winged shapes marking her creamy skin.
They were stunningly beautiful, a work of art.
But they were horrifying because the butterflies weren’t inked on her skin.
They were carved out of her flesh, as if she was a piece of wood and someone carved out these butterflies on her skin.
They were scars. Beautiful, horrifying scars.
Olivia was a living, breathing sculpture. A work of art.
“What happened to you?” I said in aghast.
She looked at me from her thick heavy eyelashes and smiled painfully.
“My father was a carpenter. We were very…poor. My father’s work didn’t sell well, and it caused him to stress a lot and became abusive.
I remember my mother and I huddled together when he came home every night, angry like a demon raising from Hell.
He was like a time bomb ready to explode.
Then one day, he grabbed me and took me into his shed where he kept all his tools.
My mother tried to stop him but he locked the door.
I still remember the way she pounded her fists against the door screaming at the top of her lungs.
But my father ignored her and strapped me on the table.
He spent days carving me. Sometimes he got angry and stuffed my mouth with dirty cloth to shut me up. ”
“Oh, God,” I whispered in horror. I couldn’t breathe when she told me her tale.
I felt like I had jumped into her memories and was living inside her skin, experiencing her pain.
I suddenly felt violent, angry at the man who had hurt her.
I wanted to break him with my hands and give him a slow death.
How could he do that to his own daughter?
“Anyhow, I was his most prized possession. He sold me at an auction. I wasn’t purchased for half a million like you.
They paid twenty-three million for me. I was a living doll and everybody wanted me.
To taste me. I’ve been a whore all my life, until my father bought me back after he was successful with his dealings in the Underground. ”
I jumped out of bed and wrapped her in my arms. I knew Livvie was my tormentor, but in my arms, she was just a small, frightened woman.
She was someone I had to protect. I felt a fierce need to cocoon her from the world.
From her father. I vowed to save her. I vowed to save us both.
We needed to get out. I racked my brain, figuring out how to escape with my captor. The captor who I fell in love with.
One thing was for sure—we needed an escape plan.