Page 25 of Deviant

Magnus’s lips curl as he crosses the room. “We wouldn’t want any accidents, now would we?” he replies.

Accidents? What the… his hand grabs my thigh just as it hits me what it is, what’s inside me. I should feel relieved, I should feel some sense of reprieve considering what he’s already done. He’s already raped me once and he didn’t wear a condom that time, did he?

“You put an IUD in me.” I state. I’m not even sure if that’s how you’d word it, but my mind feels frazzled. My stomach is alternating between what feels like butterflies and mild cramps. I thought I felt like shit before, but right now, I feel like I’m teetering over a ravine and any second I’m going to fall.

“Disappointed you won’t carry my child?” he says in that taunting tone.

I spit back at him. It’s not a mature response, but I’m just so disgusted it feels like the only act of defiance I can make.

As if I’d ever want that.

As if I’d ever desire such a thing as that.

I expect him to react with violence, but instead, he runs his hand down where the saliva has hit him and he licks it up. “Delicious,” he murmurs. “I wonder if your cunt will taste as good as this?”

The thought of it, of him touching me like that, makes my insides lock up. What would he even get from such an act anyway? Everything he’s done so far has either been to humiliate me or hurt me. Eating me out would hardly fall under those parameters, and yet, it would still be violating, wouldn’t it? It would still be just as dehumanising as everything else.

I draw in a ragged breath, wishing to God I could just clamber off this damned gurney and regain a tiny bit of dignity.

Magnus squirts something over me, something cold and wet. It makes me jerk in shock and the whole gurney creaks with the movement. Then he takes a can, shakes it up and covers my labia, my thighs, my pussy in something thick and clinging. He produces a razor, one of those old fashioned, metal safety ones that men use to shave their faces and he drags it up my thigh in a manner I know is meant to taunt.

Apparently, he’s going to shave me? Does he really think I’m just going to lay still and let him run that blade over me?

I jerk as it gets close to my most sensitive part and there’s a tiny hit of pain, a nick that lingers on after the metal is removed.

Magnus tuts with irritation. “Do you want me to cut your clit off, is that it?” he asks.

I shake my head quickly. No, I don’t want that. Of all the awful things he’s done to me, I would do absolutely anything to ensure he does not mutilate me in such a manner.

“Well then,” he continues, planting one finger on either side of my entrance and spreading me wider still. “Quit moving or your pretty cunt will end up sliced to pieces.”

Quit moving. Simple words. Simple damned instructions. I curse him under my breath. I whisper those hateful words because I’m half-convinced he will do it; he will make me bleed just for the fun of it.

When he’s finally done, he washes me down, dries me, and then runs his fingertips up between my lower lips, tracing every humiliating inch of me. “So smooth,” he comments, clearly admiring his handiwork. “I think this pussy deserves a little reward, don’t you?”

I glare back. He’s acting like we’re playing some sort of scene, like we’re two consenting adults and he’s not simply taking what he wants.

“No?” He muses, leaning closer between my thighs. “You want to be punished instead, is that it? You want to be used like a dirty little slut, instead of rewarded like a good girl?”

I don’t know how to respond. Whatever I say feels wrong. He’s tricking me, I know that much, forcing me to play whatever this twisted game is. Maybe I should goad him, maybe I should piss him off so much that he pulls out his gun and in a moment of anger he ends it for both of us.

“Get the fuck off me.” I hiss.

His hand lashes out, striking me right on my clit. A jolt of pain makes me gasp and then my stomach immediately startscramping again. Only, that clearly isn’t enough for Magnus. He hits me again, harder this time. I try to close my legs, I try to move but the leather straps hold me so tightly.

Tears start streaming down my face. I bite my lip, silencing the sound that tries to escape. No way will I give in. No way will I cry, or make a sound, or in any way beg that bastard to stop as he continues to abuse me.

My pussy is throbbing, just breathing makes me wince with pain. By the time he’s done, I know I’m more than just bruised.

And then he does the unthinkable.

He lowers his face, gripping my thighs as if they’re not strapped down and he drags his tongue right up my centre.

My breath catches. I glare at him, half in shock, half in pure hatred. Is he seriously considering what I think he is?

“She’s all pretty and pained, and ready for me now,” he murmurs.

My adrenaline spikes. I buck my hips trying to throw him off, but I have such little movement it means nothing. Within in seconds, he buries his face at my core and starts devouring me.

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