Don’t make me barf.
That may have played a small part in me running with Charlotte. The thought of being forced to marry Isaac made me sick to my stomach. Honestly, any of them was bad enough but Isaac is a special kind of deviant.
Only the Lord knows why he chose me over any of the other women forced into this life.
The masked man leaves, closing the door behind him, as Isaac works at my pants. I try to fight, even if I lose a few hairs, but he just uses his hips to pin me in place.
“Stop fighting me!” He screams against my temple before shoving my pants and underwear to my knees.
“Fuck you!”
“Oh, trust me. I will and I’ll enjoy every second,” he hisses as I try to push back against him to escape but it's no use.
I’m stuck, especially without the use of my arms.
I hear his zipper drop as a man walks into the room with Cheryl. She screams and fights her restraints.
“Even a good-for-nothing whore like you should be able to see the beauty in this. You and sweet Cheryl are going to be forced to watch each other be treated like the sluts you are. Then, you’re going to watch her die just like you watched your friend die. It’s truly poetic.”
Other than Aunt Cheryl, the only blood family I have is Charlotte. Blood has never meant much to me but Cheryl is all I’ve had left of my mom since my father killed her.
There’s nothing I can do to save her, but at least her suffering will be over.
The man walks over to Cheryl while undoing his pants and she thrashes in her restraints, trying to break free. He walks over to her, steps between her thighs held open by the chains around her legs, and he starts to assault her.
I scream for him to stop as Cheryl matches the sounds I make.
How many times have they done this to her?
“Enjoy the show, Mary Elizabeth,” Isaac whispers in my ear before thrusting hard into me, tearing me to shreds.
I fight the best I can as I feel the blood run down my leg and he rams into me again, causing more damage.
It’s been so long since I was raped, especially in that hole, that it feels worse than the memory of giving birth. He might as well have thrusted a knife into my anus. The feeling would be the same.
This has always been Isaac’s MO. He wants to cause the most pain and the easiest way to do that is anal with no lube. I’ve had my ass torn apart by him so many times that I should be desensitized to it.
Maybe if it hadn’t been four years since he did this to me, I would be.
It feels like the first time he did this to me when I was ten. I almost died from blood loss.
I don’t know how long I’m out for, but when I come to again, he’s still holding me up by my scalp and grunting as he violates me.
“Keep watching her, whore,” Isaac demands as he practically punches me in the ass. The hard hit is meant as a warning.
I look up at Cheryl as she cries. The masked man holds her chin and forces her to look at me.
This is true torment and that was the point. I know she wants to save me and I want to do the same for her, but our hands are tied literally.
Then, the fucker who is raping Cheryl speaks up, pushing her left leg further open for him.
“Father Isaac, do we have to kill her? I really like fucking this old bitch’s snatch.”
Isaac chuckles in my ear before whispering, “What do you say? Do we keep her alive or kill her?”
I know he’s going to do the opposite of whatever I say. He wants to cause as much pain as possible but he won’t believe me if I say I want him to keep her alive.
“Just let her go!” That’s the closest I can get without sounding suspicious.