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six
**WARNING: graphic language, verbal abuse**
By now the squeak of the bed was easy to drone out alongside the grunts of the man above her. She avoided looking at him most times but this time, she allowed herself to look up at the man who plowed into her so hard it stung. The pain was greater at first but as time went along, it too became easy to drone out. Grace's hair was starting to grey in some places, the strands still rich brown otherwise. Sweat beaded up on his forehead and slipped down the sides from his temples and his nose scrunched up as if he smelled something rancid. There on his chest laid a patch of hair, the same brown as his hair. She felt the urge to vomit and at that moment turned her eyes away. He had her wrists above her in an iron grip but soon let them go. Panting, he pulled out of her.
"Bend over." He ordered watching as her face soon met the bedding rife with his stench. He chuckled some and laid a blow against one of her cheeks, making her bite the blankets.
"There ain't nobody built like you I swear." He said with another chuckle, slapping her other cheek.
"Saving you was one of the best things I've ever done." She clenched her teeth as he took two fingers and opened her up, stretching her abused cavern even more. Ouch.
"You like when I fuck you hard huh? You're throbbing." No, she hated it. Hated every minute of it.
"It looks like a fish's mouth when it gasps for air." He commented with a grin, fingers leaving her.
"You're too gotdamn stubborn to admit that you like it. But your pussy doesn't lie." He grunted as he slipped the head of his cock inside.
"See? It's trying suck me in...dirty little nigger. You deserve to be fucked like the worthless slut you are." His hand laid another slap to her already tender cheek. Grabbing hold of her waist, he began to pound into her, his grunts growing louder and more gruff. He was close. She'd made the mistake of requesting he not finish inside of her once and her reward had been being beaten almost half to death. Each time she prayed to God that she didn't conceive. She'd been down this road before and had conceived twice. As a young girl of 13 and 15.
The process of aborting the child had nearly ruined her. The pain had almost killed her. But she refused... she refused to birth a child only to have it suffer the same fate as she. To her surprise, he pulled out of her and released on her bottom, smearing the semen across her raw red cheeks.
"Bitch." He laughed and his weight left the bed. He sighed with what sounded like contentment and she heard him get dressed.
"Clean yourself up and go downstairs. Tonight should be busy." His heavy footfalls left the room and descended downward. Slowly, she lifted up from the blankets. Throat tight and eyes misty with tears, she began to get dressed. Though she was used to it by now...it never failed. Her eyes always filled with tears. She never shed them. Rather, she blinked them away and kept moving. She had no choice. She had to keep going. She had to keep surviving. At least that is what she kept telling herself. But the truth of the matter was that she didn't know what was worse. Having to suffer this or being back on the plantation.
