Page 58 of Degradation
I think he really is the devil. I think all of them are, all the Blake’s.
Gunther grunts and fucks a little more and then he comes, panting before he slumps right over, and collapses face first into the duvet.
I don’t move.
Devin doesn’t move.
We’re both here, with him holding me, pressing me into him.
I can hear my husband’s breathing; I can hear the soft sounds that tell me he’s asleep. Is his guard planning on holding me like this, keeping me in this position until he wakes? I can’t stay like it, I can’t, it’s hurting my back too much, it’s killing me.
And worse, so much worse, I can feel his semen, I can feel the remnants of my husband trickling out, working its way down myinner thigh. The very thought of it makes me want to puke, but if I puke in this position, I’ll definitely choke.
“Let me go.” I say, as forcefully as I can.
His lips curl the tiniest of bits. “You don’t give the orders around here.” He says quietly, quieter than I could ever have imagined he could speak.
“Let me go.” I repeat slower, more forcefully.
Only, instead he just tightens his grip around my throat. My eyes widen, I don’t want to react the way I do, but he’s cutting off my airway, suffocating me.
“Gonna stop being a whiney bitch and behave?” He taunts.
I spit at him. Yes, it’s stupid, reckless, but right now I want him to feel my anger, to feel my hate. I want him to realise what a piece of shit he is.
He wipes it off with his shoulder and then opens his mouth to clearly put me in my place except, Gunther grunts, making this weird little squeaking noise as he wakes himself up.
He narrows his eyes, looking from me to the guard.
“You, get the fuck out.” He orders.
I’m dropped instantly. My body slumps into the relative comfort of the bed. Devin’s great mass makes the entire thing dip as he moves to get off it.
My breath feels like it’s rattling in my chest, like I’m so close to imploding now. Gunther grabs my waist, hauling me around and he’s curling up into me, holding me as he pulls the covers over us both.
I shouldn’t do it. I know I shouldn’t, but I steal a glance at him, at Devin as he’s leaving. He’s by the sliding doors. His massive frame engulfing even that. As he crosses the threshold, I swear he pauses and turns to look at me.
And I swear I see it in his eyes. The threat. The warning.
That he will make me pay for that insult. That soon, very soon, he’s going to ensure I do.
Pailtyn
It’s dark. The only light comes through a gap in the curtains.
Gunther isn’t here. I don’t know where he is, where he’s gone, but I’m certain no one is in the bed beside me.
I don’t know what woke me, but I lay there, thinking about him, my husband, about this life, about how many months of this, how many years I will have to endure.
Will he grow angry enough one time to do serious damage? I’m certain he’ll break my bones eventually. Will he kill me? Will he lose what little grasp he has on reality and in one act of barbarity, will he butcher me?
I shudder, already knowing the answer to that question. Knowing it in my heart.
This man will kill me.
It’s inevitable. It’s as certain as the sun shining in the day and the moon shining at night.
I don’t want to die. I don’t want to let that happen, but I have no way of preventing it. I can’t try to escape because the few times I’m allowed out of my room, I’m followed everywhere.
