Page 6 of Acts of Contrition

When he shoves it into my mouth, I act on instinct and bite down so hard, hot, coppery blood squirts out, hitting the roof of my mouth. He screams, and the sound is music to my ears.

I gnaw on it, feeling flesh tear beneath my teeth, my mouth filling with more blood. My heartbeat races and I feel alive. For the first time in three years, I feel powerful and … happy.

I’m happy as I bite his dick off, listening to my abuser scream.

He hits me in the jaw and I release his cock, spitting out blood as I do so, and smile at him. Can he see his blood and flesh in my teeth? I hope so.

His miserable cock is disfigured, some of it hanging off, and he lunges for me, but adrenaline and instinct guide me and I attack first, raking my nails down his winkled cheeks. One nail snags his lower eyelid and tears, making him cry tears of blood. The other leaves deep gouges in his cheek.

Faulkner screams louder, angrier, and filled with pain.

The fire in my veins is reaching fever pitch. A few minutes more, and I think I could kill him with my bare hands, and I amdyingto find out if I can.

The door opens then, and I sadly can’t fight off two men as Mike comes in and shouts something I can’t even decipher.

They both lift me and as they begin to beat me, hitting every available surface, including my face, I still smile that bloody smile.

I tasted joy for a fleeting moment. That has to be enough.

When I come to again, my first thought is, if I keep passing out like that, I am going to get brain damage. My second is, where the Hell am I?

The room is all white with bright fluorescent lights and I smell antiseptic. Did I need to go to the hospital?

“She’s coming to, Doctor,” a woman says, voice dispassionate.

“Oh, too bad she didn’t wake when I was using her tight cunt,” a man replies. “She’s numbed, she can stay awake for the rest of this. I’m almost done with the hysterectomy.”

Thewhat?

My head is spinning and I can’t wrap it around what he just said. Isn’t that for women in menopause and, God forbid, cancer?

“Welcome back, whore,” Mike says from a chair across the room. It takes all my energy to look at him. “While you passed out, I figured it was time to get you here and get you fixed up to be my perfect sex slave. After all, we can’t have babies getting in the way. Too many variables, though selling it would make me a pretty penny. I need to be smart, not greedy. Your holes for the next few years are good enough, and most men don’t want to wear a condom. They want to think they’re breeding a little teenage cow like you.”

He walks over and grabs my breasts, which I now see are in a hospital gown. “You’ll be ready to go in a month for full-body. They can use your mouth and your udders for now. DoctorKelvin here had the pleasure of being the last man to cum in your fertile womb before he removed it himself.

“Poetic, isn’t it?”

I don’t answer.

I can’t.

The power and jubilation I felt earlier are gone now, replaced by a dark despondency I fear will never leave me.

I had a momentary victory.

He won the war.

This act, this destruction of my future, is finally what breaks me.

Chapter Five

Diana

IT IS EASY to keep track of days; I can still see the light through the boards on the window. I know it will be nearly three years soon since I have been held captive, since my mother died, since my life became whittled down to this quagmire of pain and depravity.

Since I became a child sex slave.

You hear about these sorts of horror stories on the internet, or in movies. You never think you will be in one, and have the starring role no less.

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