Stolen

Part 14: Nettles

Everly pulled her legs onto the bed and spread them, but seemed hesitant to do anything more. He looked up at her as she tried to squirm away. "You should be happier, here, with me," he told her. "Huh?" she said, and he went on, peeling the sopping bandages off her leg, "I saw the marks on your back, Marilynn."

She shivered when he spoke her name. Not because of anything else.

"Don't try to hide it from me. He beats you, doesn't he?" Everly hissed, standing over her on the bed, his arms and legs caging her beneath him. "I don't know what you're talking about," she replied, but something must've given her away, because he said in her ear, "You know perfectly well what I'm talking about. How can you stand being around your father when he treats you like that?"

I can't, he's just never there, she thought. Out loud, Marilynn sneered, "He treats me better than you do," and Everly's expression darkened dramatically. "You're going to pay for that, princess," he told her. His hand crawled down her waist, making her breathing shallower when he traced her clit. He put one finger... two fingers in and rhythmically pushed them in and out of her. A jolt ran through her every time he did so and she unintentionally let out a moan, trying to move up on the bed. He only held her shoulder down and went faster.

Out of nowhere, he hooked his fingers in her vulva and Marilynn screamed louder than she ever had before. The sound was quickly muffled when Everly pressed his lips against hers. She jerked her head to the side, breaking the gesture.

He looked furious, one hand still inside her, then, at exactly the wrong time, her stomach gurgled loudly.

He barked a laugh. "Hungry, are you? I'll get you something to eat," but somehow it didn't sound promising in any way. Everly tore his hand out of her pussy, making her yelp and recoil her legs, then he got up and stalked ominously out of the room. Marilynn couldn't see where he left to. She glanced out the window, but it was still only mid-afternoon. The cuffs on her wrists, she tried to break out of; when he returned, however, her wrists were still shackled firmly to the headboard and her heart was still racing.

Everly wore thick yellow rubber gloves, with which he held what looked like a bundle of herbs. As he approached her with them, however, it was clear that they were not herbs, but stinging nettles, thus the gloves. He had put his clothes back on, probably for the sake of going outside to retrieve the plants.

Without any warning whatsoever, he ripped a handful of jagged leaves off the stem and shoved them into her mouth and ordered, "Swallow." But she couldn't. It was like molten fire in her mouth, like thousands of shards of microfiber glass tearing her apart - she kicked, he was too far; she tried to spit it out, he held his glove-clad hand over her mouth.

So she swallowed, and it was hell itself with a grassy taste on top. And it wasn't even the end of it. As soon as Marilyn had swallowed, he shoved more nettles down her throat - then again. And again. And again, until there were no leaves remaining on the stem, but by then, her throat felt raw.

She lay still for a few moments while he removed the gloves but the pain never subsided. Bringing himself to her attention, Everly said, "Hold still."