Page 94 of Morally Gray Daddies

“A very, very good girl.”

Chapter Six

Aubrey

They tell you to fight.

They tell you to scream, to yell, to do whatever you can to throw your attacker off. To try to make yourself vomit, or even soil yourself. To do whatever necessary to make the process of being violated as unattractive as possible.

It all sounds good. Easy.

It isn’t. And for me, in the moments I sat waiting while the man standing in front of me gazed down, his praise still ringing in my ears, I knew I wasn’t going to do any of those things.

I was going to obey.

I knew why. There was something about him, in the way he’d spoken to us, the explanations he’d given, as if he’d come to offer us a deal we couldn’t refuse. Essentially, that was what this was—a deal we couldn’t refuse. He’d already told us why he was here; now all that was left was for him to finish the task at hand. I could’ve done any or all the things they’d taught us in that freshman sexual-assault-prevention course, but if I did it would achieve nothing. This man wasn’t some fuckboy frat bro with a rape fetish; he was… articulate. He genuinely seemed to want us to understand this wasn’t personal, but… business, as if that meant a damn thing. He’d said things like ‘the sooner we can get this over’ and ‘it pains me to say this,’ as if he empathized with what we were going through. Which was bullshit, because there was no way he could and still intend to go through with what he’d described. Still, in this weird way I couldn’t shake off, everything that had happened since he’d pulled out his gun seemed… less based in raw aggression than transactional. A quid pro quo Sonja’s father had unwittingly become a part of, and the payment was going to be…

Me.

It was a combination of all those things that made me realize I wasn’t going to do anything of the things I’d learned in that class, and it boiled down to one simple reality: if I did, he’d simply switch from assaulting me to doing it to Sonja. If she tried any of those same methods, then he’d undoubtedly hurt us both in ways far worse than anything I was anticipating. And there was another reason, too, a lunatic thought that wriggled its way inside my head the moment he’d said, ‘You’re a good girl, Aubrey’.

That I’d disappoint him.

I’d shoved down hard on that thought the second it surfaced, but still it squirmed there, wrestling to find its way out once more.

Fuck no! What the hell is wrong with you?

“Ms. Taryn.”

I jerked my head up at the sound of his voice.

“Last chance.”

I knew exactly what he was asking.

“Just get it over with, please,” I whispered.

He nodded, and—there it was again. He looked almost… sympathetic.

No. There was no way he could be concerned for my well-being, considering what he was preparing to do.

“So,” he continued in that patient voice, “let me roughly outline what’s going to happen here. I’m going to strip you naked, then use you while I film it on my cell phone. As I said, for this to ‘sell,’ I’m going to need to hurt you while I do that. I promise I won’t leave any permanent marks. The worst I’ll inflict will be some bruising that will last a few days at minimum, a week at most. I do want you to understand, though, you will be making me come. I have to do that at a bare minimum for this to have the necessary effect.”

He stopped, looking down into my face. “Do you have a preference?”

“A preference?”

“Yes.” He waited for a second before adding, “For where I come.”

Oh, god…

“I… I…”

“Perhaps I should first ask, are you on birth control?”

I nodded weakly.

“Ah, good, that simplifies things. So, if I were to come inside you, pregnancy wouldn’t be an issue. That allows us the luxury of either vaginal, anal, or oral.” He gave me a questioning look. “I’ll ask again; do you have a preference?”

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