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He hadn’t been told to use a condom. I couldn’t bear to deal with the implications of that. Not now.
Flashes of what had been done to me carved through my thoughts uninvited. Little vignettes of rape and hurt played over and over. Me, screeching while he whacked that stick on me, my feet not touching the floor, my toes scrabbling for a grip as I swung. The rope above creaking. The new scenes were added to the ones I’d already perfected where I tried to turn back time so that none of this ever happened.
If only I’d not gone out for a drink that night. If only I’d turned left for a taxi instead of going right down the alley to the car park and aiming to drive myself home. If only the assholes hadn’t decided to add me to their list of women to sell to other, richer assholes.
If only one of those rich assholes hadn’t decided I’d make a nice victim for his sadistic pleasures.
The weight of the sheet was stinging the skin on my bottom. I inched it off me, wincing when it tore loose in a few spots. I must have bled. Nothing I could do about it. I covered my head with my poor ravaged pillow. Slowly the deeper darkness let me fall into sleep.
At the tap of footsteps, I jerked awake. Pain blazed across my back and I yelped.
Someone sat on the edge of the bed, bowing it down, and a large hand was laid across my spine.
“Oh dear. What bruises you have. My, my. I’m so sorry it came to this but your Mr. Pieter did not do as he was told to.”
Gregor. I gulped. My head was still under the pillow. I felt like a turtle hiding from a crocodile.
“Come out, come out.” He chuckled and pulled the pillow from my grasp. “There you are! I have something for you. Ointment. It will be good for your wounds. Stay very still.”
I barely glanced at him before staring at the wall beyond the headboard. I heard a jar being unscrewed and he shifted on the bed, rocking the mattress.
As he touched a finger to my back, the cold of the ointment and the burn of pain made me wince and try to fly up off the bed. His hand anchored me in place.
“Stay. I said to stay. You don’t want me to spank you now, do you?”
I gritted my teeth, wishing I could do something bad to this man. Eyes closed, I made myself be still as he traced every welt with his fingers, rubbing in the cream with agonizing thoroughness.
If I had a gun under my hand, would I have the guts to shoot him? He so scared me that I knew I might not dare to try. If I failed, he’d do terrible things to me.
“Why are you shaking? Does it hurt that much? Such pretty, pretty bruises. If only you could see them like I do.”
I shuddered. Light as the walk of a spider, Gregor’s fingers trailed over my ass, venturing close to the divide, then he took a pinch of skin directly over one of the worst spots.
I hissed and tried to claw my way up the bed. Without releasing my skin, he fastened me down with his palm planted on the small of my back.
“It hurts. Let go. Please.” I whispered my plea. “Please.”
“No, no, no.” He waited until I was staying in place, though gasping and crushing the pillow with my hands. “Now. What did you forget to add to the end of your sentences? Hmm?”
Oh fuck.
“You didn’t say ‘sir’. Yes? I was very lenient, considering your condition. But now I have to punish you. Be good or I will do it twice.”
Punish? Not more of the stick?
But he shifted to the end of the bed and dragged me by my legs until I was over his knee with my dress gathered above my waist. I buried my head. I was whining as the first blow struck, crying out by the fourth. If he’d taken a hammer to me, it might have hurt less.
“There now. All done.”
I panted, determined not to make more noises. He probably enjoyed them.
The door opened. From the sounds, several people came in.
I turned my head away, embarrassed as well as sore. Tears streamed down my face and I wiped them away with my wrist.
“It’s your friend, Pieter! Hop off my lap now, dear girl, and say hello to your present.”
Present?
