Damage
PROLOGUE
She woke up, coarse fingers cruelly wrapped around her left shoulder.
She couldn’t stand to open her eyes. She envisioned herself locked in a little room, the stink of her own sweat intoxicating the air, the aching of her head nearly causing her to faint- still; she had to open her eyes.
And there he was.
His fingers were dragged off her shoulder, gradually creeping down her arm, she couldn’t oppose, her legs and arms tied up to a chair. The small room for movement she had was limited, the rope around her wrist and ankles rubbing into her skin and the quick pain continually shooting through her small body. She was motionless, allowing the ache to be submerged into her body, a groan evading her mouth. She established the truth that there was no way she could flee.
Sarah was at all times frightened. He at last took his hands off her, only to push his lips tightly on her collar. She squeezed her eyes close. He sucked at her neck, biting hard only to have the sense of hearing her yell.
She felt his hands on her once again, moving up from her waist to her breasts. She reviled him. She wished he would stop. She shuddered as he squeezed, trying hard to excavate herself into the rear of her chair, yanking at the cord that was fastening her, blood gushing out of the cuts on her wrists and ankles. He chuckled at the view of her in anguish, grabbing onto her knees and spreading her legs as she attempted to oppose. His hands began rubbing up her thighs. She tensed her body as his hands brushed onto her private.
Please don’t…
She breathed a sigh of relief as his hands were off her once again. She watched as he opened the door, the brilliant glow of the daylight causing her to squint. He left the room, closing the door after him and leaving her once again tied up to her doom. He came back minutes later, a pair of big scissors in his hand.
Two thoughts crossed her mind- either he was setting her free, or he was going to murder her. Please don’t kill me. Please. He knelt down, cutting the line from around her ankles; she couldn’t help but allow a groan as her skin felt the sensation of liberty. She stretched out her legs, throwing her head back in happiness. She smiled at the consideration of her at last being free. She wanted to sprint, but her wrists were still bound. She crossed her legs and expected his next move.
Please let me go.
I miss the world.
She had no idea how long she had been captured. She was thankful for the fact that she wasn’t always sitting. He occasionally had her attached to a couch, to a post, to a fence, but it had been an extended while on that awful chair. Her head still ached as he brushed the locks away from her face. She recalled the day he lured her into his residence, drugged her and captured her. He grabbed her chin, lifting her head so that she was looking up at him. She stared at his features, for such a wicked male, he was gorgeous. His lengthy, chocolate, wavy locks were flopped onto his head, his emerald eyes staring into hers, his fleshy lips pressed into an evil grin.
“Listen closely.”
His deep tone sent shivers down her back. She nodded in reply.
“I’m going to cut the rope on your hands, but you’re not going to move. You’re going to fuck me, without anything forcing you to stay still. Then, and only then, will I let you leave. Understand?”
She didn’t distinguish whether to trust what she was hearing. What was the use of resisting? They had sex innumerable times, but each time she was tied up and against her will. Could he be sincerely allowing her to depart if she had consensual sex with him?
