Chapter 21
The Ball
Kitlyn ( The morning of the masquerade party)
The morning light crept through the blinds, bright and cheery, painting stripes across the sheets tangled around us. Every part of my body ached. My throat was raw from crying, and swallowing down the screams I didn't want to give him. My legs trembled even while lying still.
As promised, he brutalized me until I almost passed out.
The sick fuck thoroughly enjoyed it when I screamed bloody murder as he sodomized me multiple times, then tore my vagina apart as well.
The assault was so bad; he had the doctor come to the room in the middle of the night to fix any damage he had caused.
Thankfully, I didn't need stitches, but my insides were completely raw. Hector was given some antibiotic cream that needed to be inserted into my vagina and rectum, along with a healing ointment. Of course, the asshole took it upon himself to administer both, which humiliated me even more.
I cried quietly at four in the morning as the applicator breached both openings, but he was actually gentle when he applied it, which shocked me after what he put me through.
Hector's arm was draped over me like a chain, heavy and suffocating. His skin reeked of sweat and liquor. The motherfucker was trashed out of his mind last night when he assaulted me. I wanted to claw his eyes out and peel his arm off of me, because he was a disgusting asshole.
I swear to God, I'd chop my own arm off as a sacrifice if I could forget the violence he subjected me to.
"Get off your fucking knees, stand up and touch your toes. I'm going to fuck you until you bleed."
I stood up and bent over, not wanting to annoy him anymore than he was. He whacked me across my bottom; the intensity of the blow caused me to cry out.
"'I'm sorry. I thought you would kill me if you knew the truth!"
He didn't want to hear it. Intense pain followed with every strike. My ass was on fire. By this time I was almost sobbing.
"You would have brought in lots of money and taken my beatings so well. Now that's all changed, thanks to your lies. I'm so fucking pissed, I could kill you!"
When he finally stopped beating my ass, he crawled between my spread thighs and brutally thrust his cock inside me. My sex felt like it was being ripped apart.
The screams tore from my throat as he continued his violent attack. When he pulled out and pushed into my bottom, I almost passed out from the searing pain. There was no warning—no lube—nothing. The brutality went on throughout the night, with him resting in between.
The flashbacks made me sick to my stomach.
He stirred beside me and yawned; sweet and loving on the surface, not the monster who tore me apart hours before.
His hand slid down my stomach possessively, and bile rose in my throat. "Morning, green eyes," he muttered, his voice thick with satisfaction. "You're quieter than usual. Worn out and sore?" He threw his head back and laughed.
I just gave him a dirty look and nodded, wanting to spit in his fucking face.
"Good. That means I did my job." He hissed.
I clenched my jaw, forcing myself not to flinch as he laughed. What a diabolical dickhead!
"You've got spirit, green eyes, I'll give you that," he continued, his tone dripping with mockery. "But after last night? "You're not half as tough as you pretend to be. All that crying and wailing…it looks like I won."
His grin was evil and calculating.
"I always win, green eyes."
His words cut into me like a knife, reminding me of the wounds that hadn't even begun to heal. I never felt so humiliated and degraded as I did with this evil bastard last night. He had me barking like a dog, while he choked me and continually brutalized both ends, just like he promised.
He shifted, rolling onto his back with a smug smile, arms folded behind his head like he didn't have a care in the world.
"Tonight, the party begins. Men with more money than God coming in to sample Hector's beauties.
They'll love you green eyes. Especially after I've broken you in.
All of my customers are depraved beyond anything you can imagine.
What I did to you last night was just a taste of what you're in for when I sell you. " He looked at me appreciatively.
"Fresh meat with rare eyes. You'll bring in a fortune, like I always knew you would."
My chest tightened, and my breath became shallow. I was nothing but a business transaction. My body, my life, stripped down to a dollar sign. I know I will never survive the same violence from another man. It's been a little over a month since I was taken, and Atlas is still nowhere in sight.
I didn't want to lose hope….not yet.
I was stronger than that, but I was having my doubts.
Hector's eyes narrowed with cruel amusement.
"I almost kept you, green eyes." His eyes softened.
"Almost. But you lied to me. Lied about your assassin boyfriend.
Atlas, wasn't it?" He grinned. "Doesn't matter.
You're mine right now, and tonight you'll be someone else's.
And Becca? She will also pay for your deception.
She won't last too long once the cutter gets his hands on her, and if he doesn't come through, I will make it my job to find another master just as brutal. "
He smirked like the devil he was.
"She can thank you for the abuse later."
The tears burned hot behind my eyes, but I didn't cry. Not while he was watching, because he wanted to see me break, and I would never give him the satisfaction. Inside, I swore to myself; he hadn't won. Not yet. My body might be in his bed, but my spirit wasn't his to keep.
The very spirit he loves about me.
Hector chuckled, low and dark.
He leaned in, his lips brushing my ear.
"You should never have underestimated me. At least with me, you know what to expect, but another master is unpredictable. Now lie back so I can apply your medicine. You won't be able to do much tonight because of your injuries, but I can certainly show them off, and I intend to. Now, legs up!"
I sighed and did as I was told, bringing my legs up to my chest. This was so damn humiliating, and if Atlas didn't get here soon, nothing but degradation, beatings and submission would be my very existence for the rest of my life, and it terrified me to no end.
The day dragged like a heavy chain around my neck.
Every hour ticked with dread, the weight of the masquerade pressing down until it was hard to breathe.
The medicine was working. My bottom half didn't throb as much as it had throughout the night.
At least Hector was merciful in making sure no one screwed me at the party.
I couldn't even imagine how much that would hurt.
After breakfast, Hector spent most of the morning on calls, pacing the apartment like a man possessed.
He barked orders in Spanish, his voice loud and impatient.
He had Becca and Layla brought back about twenty minutes ago.
I was so happy to see both of them. Becca looked terrified.
I can only imagine what she witnessed in the cottages.
Layla was still pretty banged up thanks to Juan's horrific beating the other day, but she was on the mend.
The three of us sat in the den like obedient dogs, awaiting further instructions. Becca wouldn't meet my eyes, and Layla kept her gaze on the floor, lost in thought. My mind kept running, circling and reaching for a way out that didn't exist.
The only hope for Beck and me was a six foot six man coming to rescue us.
That was wishful thinking on my part. The party was tonight, and the both of us would most likely be handed over to new handlers in the morning.
I don't think Atlas is coming. I don't hold any anger towards him for not being here already.
He must be having a hard time finding us.
Hector was right. At least we knew what we were in for under his rule, and at least Becca would have been able to stay with me.
I blew it by not being honest with him, but what did I know?
I thought he would have murdered us if he had known the truth.
It was too late now, unless I swallowed my pride and begged like a dog, but that wouldn't work on Hector.
He didn't give a shit about anyone but himself.
Lunchtime came.
The tray was carried in by guards, who smirked when they saw us sitting at the kitchen table in our Roman outfits.
Just another bunch of assholes who loved to hurt women.
The food was better than usual. Grilled chicken, rice pilaf and fresh Italian bread, but none of us could eat much.
My stomach churned with fear. Hector made a point of watching us chew, laughing under his breath when Becca gagged on a piece of meat.
"You'll eat now," he said, wiping grease from his mouth with his signature napkin, "because tonight you won't get the chance. My guests decide what goes into your mouth, and I am betting it's many, many cocks."
The cruelty rolled off his tongue so easily; it made me shudder with revulsion. He was one twisted fucker.
By early afternoon, attendants arrived—women dressed in black, their eyes devoid of any emotion, like they'd seen too much, and one slip from their lips would bring a severe beating. Hector ordered them to make us look beautiful."
They pulled us into the bathroom one by one, scrubbing our skin raw and combing out our hair until I thought I was going to scream.
They painted our lips repeatedly, almost to where I didn't think I could open my mouth.
Before heading into the den, I caught my reflection in the mirror.
A stranger stared back. I was a doll dressed for slaughter.
Dark red lips, tons of blush on my cheeks, heavy black eyeliner and brown eye shadow were plastered all over my face.