Page 14 of Brutal Surrender

But with a new deluge of water comes more fear, fear that I won’t be able to catch another breath. Doubt in my abilities to hold out sets in. My resolve turns tenuous.

I start praying even though, growing up, I had a shallow relationship with God. My parents were Catholic and went through the motions of going to church without much depth, kind of like how one brushes their teeth every day. My relationship with God went to zero after Vincent had my family murdered.

Dear God, please. Please make this stop. Please don’t let me cave.

Miraculously, the waterboarding pauses, but I don’t dare hope that they’re done. The water is going to hit any minute. Any minute.

I hear Cho walking away. He probably ran out of water and is going to get more. Which means I do get to have a reprieve. It’ll be a short but heavenly reprieve.

After the door closes, the seconds tick by, turning into minutes, but I can’t seem to enjoy the respite. Any second now Cho will return to resume the torture.

More minutes tick by.

Then even more.

Could they possibly be done?

Just when I dare to hope, I hear the door open. Footsteps follow, stopping next to me. What sounds like a bucket of water is set down.

Please nooooo.

“Ready for more?”

It’s Vincent. I suppress a sob.

The cloth over my face has dried somewhat, making my breath suffocatingly warm.

I feel his hand slide between my thighs. I have no reaction because I don’t have the energy to hate his touch. And anything is better than the waterboarding. I think. Maybe they’re equally bad.

He rubs me for several minutes and asks, “You like this, don’t you? You’re getting so wet for me.”

It’s true. Somehow, despite my exhaustion, my body responds to him. I have got to be the most cursed omega there ever was.

As if reading my mind, he rubs it in. “This isn’t just about being an omega. You’re a slut through and through. I bet you could take a hundred cocks in a day and still be up for more.”

His fingers enter me. My cunt flexes against him.

“You like that idea? The Black Dragon activities don’t include prostitution and sex trafficking, but I can make an exception for you. I could set you up in one of those booths with a dozen glory holes to see how many cocks you can service in a day. Many prostitutes work over twelve-hour shifts. Imagine sucking and jacking off cock after cock after cock for hours on end.”

I grow wetter. He’s going to think it’s because of the nasty picture he’s painting, but it’s because his fingers keep caressing a particularly sensitive area inside me.

“We can switch things up with a reverse glory hole,” he continues. “Know what that is?”

When I don’t answer, he withdraws his fingers. “I asked a question.”

Before I can explain that I thought he was asking a rhetorical question, I hear him pick up the bucket. Water covers my face like a cold, heavy blanket.

Not again. Please…

He lets me catch my breath before pouring more water. I thrash and tremble against my bonds.

“Ready to answer?”

I whimper, “N-no. I d-don’t…know.”

“It’s a larger hole in the wall, and instead of a cock fitting through it, we fit you. The johns will be on one side of the wall. All they get to see is your ass, your cunt, and your legs. The upper half of your body is on the other side of the hole, so you don’t see the men and have no idea who is fucking you. How many cocks can your pretty little cunt take in a day? How much cum can it hold? Or maybe your asshole can give your cunt a break. You don’t get to choose of course. Some men will want your cunt, some will want your ass, and some will go for both. What do you think?”

I don’t hear his question because I’m too busy wondering if he will continue fondling me or not.

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