2. Amorette #2
Bells rang in my ear as he swung back and kicked my ribcage and then my stomach.
I curled in a ball, trying to protect my middle and still hold whatever pathetic contents were in my stomach.
It didn’t matter. He rained down punches and kicks over my body until I was close to passing out.
When I stopped making any kind of whimpers or cries, he stopped.
Like it wasn’t fun anymore when he couldn’t hear the results of his beating.
Reaching down, Randall lifted me from the floor and dropped me on the table. My energy waned, and the lights blurred and spun in circles above me. Using all my residual strength, I pushed myself up, only to be slammed back down. My head bounced on the table, and I groaned.
Randall grinned that jolly fucking grin.
He tightened a strap over my body just under my breasts. For a moment, I stopped. I just stopped . I needed to breathe and I couldn’t multitask. Not then.
When he caught one of my ankles, I weakly twisted it to break his hold, but he only chuckled. “Dumb bitch. I like the strong ones. They’re the most fun for me to break.”
He forced my foot to the edge of the table and cuffed it with a leather strap. Eventually he had both feet and wrists strapped.
“This is a posh pleasure house, and our men pay a premium for beautiful women. Now, remember what I said about not leaving marks? That rule doesn’t apply to the ones who don’t go into the Gallery.
Those girls are for a different type of clientele.
Before they’re ready to be placed on consignment, I get the pleasure of breaking them.
While you’re here, just remember, kindness is only reserved for the Gallery girls. ”
His face blocked out the light, and a halo appeared around his head. I thought, at least. Or maybe that was just a concussion setting in. This devil of a man didn’t deserve a halo.
“What’s your biggest fear, pet? You must have one.” He drifted his fingers over my shoulders and down the v of my chest.
It hit me, then. Randall didn’t have an accent. He sounded like someone I’d encountered on the streets of Raleigh when I’d spent time there. A slow, lyrical speech pattern.
An unimportant detail yet something my brain focused on. Better that than the way his fingers circled my areolas. Shame coated my burning cheeks as my nipples puckered.
“Ah,” he said in delight. “You may not want to be here, but your body does.” He left that nipple and licked his fingers before circling the other.
The damned thing reacted.
I knew it was out of my control. Bodily functions happened whether we wanted them to or not. But it still soured my gut that he got this reaction from me.
“No answer?” he queried.
I glared.
“I’m more than happy to fill you in on the fears of the women who have been where you are now.
” He moved his damn fingers down my stomach, circling my belly button before moving farther south.
“One was afraid to lose her parents. Not anything I could do about that one.” Randall shrugged like he wasn’t that concerned; he was powerless in that particular fear.
“One was afraid of pain. We had lots of fun.” His deranged grin told just that.
I stiffened when he reached the top of my hood, the touch invasive and too warm. I tried to close my legs, but they were strapped too far apart. Spread wide open, he traced one side of my lips, then the other.
“The very last girl was afraid of her body betraying her. She could stand the pain. She could stand the beatings and the torture. What she couldn’t stand were the orgasms.” His voice dropped to a whisper like he was letting me in on a secret.
Leaving my vagina, he laid his hand on the crease of my thigh and smoothed it down my leg as he walked toward the end of the table.
“If I had to peg you, I’d say you were the latter. From the way you handled the minor beating, I doubt you’re afraid of pain. Maybe you’re afraid to lose your loved ones. Maybe not.” Another shrug like it was of no consequence. “But…I think you’d hate yourself if you found pleasure from my touch.”
He expected me to talk; he must have craved it. But I stayed silent. Let him come to his own conclusions, he’d do what he wanted anyway. I just had to survive to fight again. That was my only goal.
Randall’s smile dropped at my lack of reaction. “We’ll start with that, then.”
As he came around the table, I relaxed my body. If I gave him no signs of a struggle, he might move on to a different tactic.
He stroked my lips, then brought them to his face, sticking them in his mouth. The hum made my stomach roll.
When his fingers were on their way back, I expected him to rub my clit. That was where orgasms originated from for most women. And he did start there, but then he dipped down.
I shrieked as his fingers entered me, thrashing back and forth.
That fucking grin returned once his fingers were all the way inside. The fullness was too noticeable to ignore. I wanted to pretend he wasn’t assaulting me, except my mind wouldn’t let me detach. Instead, I screamed and yanked away as best I could.
The monster kept moving his hand in a rhythmic motion, hitting my clit with his palm. It felt good. I hated it. I hated my body. At least at that moment.
I closed my eyes, trying a different route.
This was masturbation. I was pleasuring myself. I could come, and then it would be over. If I couldn’t block out the pleasure, maybe I could block out him .
“You like that, pet? You stopped struggling. Your hips even started rocking.” Randall’s voice was like being dumped in ice water.
When I opened my eyes and renewed my resistance, he smirked down at me.
“I won’t let you forget it’s me making you feel this way.” He started moving faster, and I turned my head, ready to puke right there. Because it was coming. He was going to make me orgasm, and there was nothing I could do about it.
The first waves were like shards of glass washing over me. The pulsing, a restrictive choker sending signals I didn’t want to share. And the moan that spilled out was the ultimate treachery.
At some point, I stopped trying to get away from the table. He kept up with the gentle motions until the pulsing stopped. Keeping my head turned, I didn’t see what he did when he pulled his fingers free, too abhorred by the wet sounds my body created. Although, the slurping gave me an idea.
“I think you definitely feel the sting of that orgasm, don't you?” This was all games to him. I just had to figure out how to play the game better. After so many years of school, I was smarter than this.
Right then, he wanted to know I was upset. Traumatized.
Evening out my breathing, I kept my eyes closed. Nothing mattered. I couldn’t fight back in this state, so it was pointless to waste the energy. I’d save it for when I could use it.
“You’re not even making this any fun.” He sighed like he was put out with his new toy. “Back to your cage, then. I’ll play with you more tomorrow.”
Wait. Why was he stopping here?
I’d seen what those men had done to the other girls. He was going to rape me. Wasn’t he?
When I whipped my head around, his eyes lit back up. “Surprised this is where the fun ends tonight?”
I didn’t answer, but I didn’t need to. He could read my confusion all over my face. “I’m more into the long game. I like to know exactly what makes the girls tick. I don’t need instant gratification. Although, don’t worry, pet. It will happen.”
The leather straps were loud as he pulled them through the buckles. He did my wrists first and then my right foot. Finally, my left. The only thing holding me down was the one at my ribs.
Then that was gone too.
With too gentle hands, he lifted me to a sitting position. A stand was placed beside the table with an array of tools. Various knives and mallets. Some devices I had never seen before. All of them are toys to cause the worst pain.
He helped me off the table and walked us around it. We weren’t on the side near the knives, however, we’d have to pass it to leave the room. Sort of.
As we were passing it, I reached for the butcher knife then whirled to face him.
Swinging the knife toward his face, I grunted when he blocked the hit, catching my wrist in a bruising grip.
I didn’t think, I just punched him with my other hand, making sure to tuck my thumb below my fingers. Randall cursed and staggered back.
When he lifted his head, he gave me a bloody smile. “I was wrong about you. I think you’re a combination of two fears. You hate your body’s betrayal, and you need to fight back. But what happens when you fight and still lose?”
He rushed me, and my back slammed into the wall. I barely got in any hits before he slapped me across the same side he’d gotten earlier.
The world faded fast, but I had one lingering thought.
I’d lose, but I’ll never give up .