59. Brynn
H e comes to see me every day.
Each time, it’s after Xavier has fucked me.
He stands there at the end of the bed, staring at where the evidence of what his friend has done is leaking out of me.
I was embarrassed, I was shamed. Now, after what I figure has been weeks of this, I feel nothing.
Of course, part of that is because of what Conrad did. But now I’m realising that my body is so broken, my mind is so fractured that nothing matters anymore.
Today when he walks in, he’s wearing a long black robe. He looks different. More oppressive. More like a member of the Brethren.
He rubs some lotion into that new wound where my brand was. He takes his time, ensuring every last bit has soaked into my skin, and all the while he’s telling me what a good girl I’ve been, and that he’s finally proud of me.
But I’m not proud of me.
I’m breaking the rules. Despite what he says, I know Conrad is my husband.
And I know that he’s going to be so angry with me.
My father leans in, brushing my dirty hair back from my sweaty face. “Would you like a reward?” He asks, like he’s offering a piece of candy.
Mmm candy. I like candy.
I nod just a little.
His lips curl, and he jabs something into my neck so quickly I barely feel it. “Ssssh,” He soothes, “It’ll help you to relax,”
Relax. How can I relax when I’m all tied up?
Maybe he can read my thoughts because he starts undoing the bindings, letting my body slump into him.
“I’ve got a nice bath ready for you,” He says.
A bath? God, I’d kill for one of those. I haven’t properly washed in what feels like so long. My body is dirty, disgusting. Like it’s covered in handprints, fingerprints.
He carries me through, and I can see it, I can see the bubbles and the steam.
He gently slides me into the water and it’s so perfectly hot that I let out a moan.
“There, that’s better, isn’t it?” He says.
I nod back, chanting, “Better, better, better,”
All those bruises, all those nasty little cuts on my body seem to welcome the heat. I shut my eyes, leaning back for a moment, forgetting where I am.
He moves to kneel behind where my head is and he takes a long deep sniff of my hair, like he’s trying to shore up the smell of it. His hand dips down, into the water and he cups my breasts, with his thumb rubbing gently against my nipple.
My mind seems to falter. My breath stops entirely.
He slides his arm down, moving between my thighs. “You’re so like her,” He says, “Everything about you, your smile, your stubbornness, even the way you fight…”
“Fight,” I whisper. Did she have to fight too?
He plants a kiss against my cheek. It’s delicate, soft, so confusing. “She was a fighter, just like you. She liked to pretend that she didn’t want me, but we both know that was a lie.”
Lie. Liar. Xavier is a liar. Is my father a liar too?
I blink, trying to get some clarity but whatever he gave me seems to be muddling my head even more.
I can feel his fingers running over me, touching me, probing me.
It shouldn’t feel nice. I know that. I dig my teeth into my tongue, trying to stifle the whimper.
Make it stop. Please, make it stop.
“I don’t like Xavier hurting you,” He states as he starts circling that same bit Conrad likes so much. “I don’t like him punishing you, but if you behave then I’ll make sure all you feel is pleasure…”
Pleasure. I want that, I want…
No. This is wrong. I want Conrad, not this, not…
“Ssssh,” he groans again, pressing harder, trying to force my body to obey him, only my head is screaming out about Conrad. He won’t like this. He won’t.
“Lucas.”
Xavier’s voice makes me panic. I look up and he’s there, watching us both. His eyes are focused in on where my father is touching me and for a second, I think he’s going to say something, to stake his claim. But then he meets my eyes, and I can see he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care at all.
“It’s all ready,” Xavier states before turning and walking right back out.
My father sighs, “Then we’d best get going,”
He pulls the plug, letting the water drain entirely before he’s wrapping me up and drying me off. He then carries me out, completely naked, and for the first time in weeks, I’m out of my room.
By the time we get down the corridor and a flight of stairs, my head is spinning.
I’m laid down on a bed. It’s big, in the centre of the room. The lighting in here is strange, the corners all seem to be in shadow but where I am, it’s bright.
There must be a spotlight.
I frown, staring around and it feels like the entire world spins.
There’s at least six men here, all robed, all wearing those same black outfits my father has on.
I want to ask what is going on, but my voice seems to catch in my throat.
I can see Xavier stood, talking to someone. A man, he’s got a camera pointed right at me. They both keep gesturing like they’re having a debate.
“Brynn,” My father says, as the mattress sinks. I look up and see him sitting there, looking down at me.
I haven’t moved. I just laid there, still as a statue.
“This is very important,” My father states, “This video is going to your husband,”
“Conrad,” I breathe. But how can that be? Xavier doesn’t like him. Xavier thinks he’s my husband. My eyes dart to him and my father gently pulls my face back to focus on him.
“It’s okay,” He soothes. “We’re going to play a little game. We’re going to show Conrad how good you’re being.”
Good. I am good.
“We’re going to show him how well he fixed you.” He continues. “Would you like that?”
I nod quickly. Does that mean they were listening? Does that mean that I can go home?
“It’s very important you play your part.” He states.
Part. Apart. Me and Conrad are apart right now. “I want to go home,” I gasp. There are too many eyes here, too many people watching me. Conrad won’t like this. He won’t like this at all.
“And you will,” My father says as I hear Xavier hiss with annoyance. “But to do that, you need to behave. Conrad doesn’t want you back if you’re naughty.”
“But I’m not naughty.” I’m not. I haven’t done anything wrong, I haven’t. It’s not my fault that Xavier touched me, it’s not my fault that the house got burnt down. I didn’t want to leave. I was carried out… Tears start streaming down my face and I try to brush them away, but my father is already there, wiping them like each one is precious.
“You’re a good girl, aren’t you Brynn?” My father says.
I am.
I am. I am. I am.
A buzzing sound fills the air. I jolt as I realise my father is now holding something against my clit. That he’s teasing it, pleasuring me.
“There,” He says, “I told you I’d reward you…”
That need, that awful, desperate need seems to take over everything.
“All you have to do is show Conrad how much you want this, pretend that this man here is Conrad,” He says pointing to Xavier, “…and then he will be happy with you. He’ll be so happy.”
“Happy,” I repeat as my eyes land on the man who’s looking at me like he hates me.
He’s the only one here who’s wearing nothing. I can see his dick hanging limply between his legs.
“A word,” He says to my father, pulling him roughly away.
The vibrator drops, landing between my thighs. I want to pick it up, I need to pick it up. That ache is too much, too desperate. I bite my lip, trying to make myself lie still but I can’t. I can’t.
I can hear Xavier growling. “What the fuck was that?”
“She doesn’t have a clue what’s going on,” My father replies, “The drugs have seen to that, so who cares what we have to say to her? As long as she does what you want while the camera is running, what does it matter?”
Xavier frowns more. “I wanted him to see her crying,” He snarls, “I wanted him to see her being raped because that would motivate him…”
“Trust me,” My father smiles, “Nothing will piss him off more than thinking that she’s enjoying this, that she’s willingly letting everyone fuck her.”
They both look at me. My father smiles gently, reassuringly. Xavier, with that stern look on his face that he always has.
As I stare back, I swear their faces morph. They twist, and Xavier is then pulling a hood down to hide his features as my father shouts out to get recording.
And all the while, I’m doing it. I’m imagining it. I’m touching myself because that’s what makes my husband happy. That’s what he likes.
The man with the camera moves it around to face my father. He’s talking, presenting almost. Xavier is close, too close. I don’t like him. I don’t like how he looks at me. How he hurts me.
As Xavier gets onto the bed, I know he’s going to do it again. My father said to pretend, but I know this isn’t Conrad. And besides, Conard hurt me too.
They all hurt me. Every single one of them.
They lied and they tricked me. Tricked.
Trick or treat.
But no treats for me. Just pain. Pain and pain.