"FeverTree - THE CRUCIFIXION OF MACKAYLA LANE"
PART 3 – VIOLATED
I wasn’t sure what I expected, what he would actually do, I mean the detail of how …
But once I saw his ravaged body and peeling flesh enter the confined space within my cell, I knew that the detail did not matter.
I was unconstrained, but still very naked. I hadn’t washed and I had been forced to urinate once again, on the floor, in the corner … It was towards that corner that Mallucé threw me once he had gripped my hair and dragged me to my feet.
I hit the cold brick with a slam, my hands protecting my face, but my knees and breasts taking the hard force as I smashed into the wall.
I slumped to the floor whereupon, by my hair, I was painfully pulled back onto my feet, and thrown against the steel bars of the cell.
I was too breathless to scream, and by the look of the bulge under his leather pants, Mallucé was too lust-fuelled to say anything.
This time he gripped my shoulders, pulled me up and shoved me a few steps until my stomach pushed against the edge of the small white topped table, and he bent me over. This was it …
“Please,” I mumbled quietly and with a meek intonation.
He offered no response, not even a mocking one.
Pressing his body against mine, using his weight to keep me still. His right hand resting on the smooth, worn surface of the table. He twisted my head to look into his eyes.
A silent warning to comply.
I could hear him panting and felt the length of his erection pushed against me. Adrenaline and panic coursed through my system and the thud in my chest hammered my ribcage like it wanted out. My eyes began to well.
“Please. Don’t,” I wailed, trying to work up the courage to scream, but he pushed against me harder, enjoying the power.
“I know you want it.” They were the first words he had spoken.
But I didn’t … I didn’t want it … these words of dissension stayed inside my head.
My legs crumpled like they no longer belonged to me. My eyes strayed to the ground; he wore black army boots and dark leather jeans.
I felt the wrench behind my back as my arm was twisted, almost pulling my shoulder out of its socket. Pushing his cock into my hand, he forced my fingers to wrap around it. My stomach plummeted to the floor and I fought the urge to urinate.
His erection felt huge in my palm, engorged with blood and his thick, white seed …
Tears ran down my cheeks as he groaned in satisfaction, moving my hand back and forth to pleasure himself until I’d got the rhythm.
His eyes had told me to comply. I complied.
I could feel my throat closing up, the bile rising. Eyes focused on the cold, hard brick, anywhere but my hand, and what it was doing.
Suddenly he’d had enough foreplay and strong arms reached around my waist to the front of my body.
“Be a good girl, Mackayla,” he panted.
I swallowed hard and managed a strange squeak of submission. The cold realisation of what lay ahead dawning on me, powerless to stop it.
“No. Mallucé … Please.” I begged once more.
Grabbing my hair, he forced me down, over the top of the table, my breasts flattened against the surface, the table-edge compressing my chest, and kicked my feet as far apart they would go. I tried to cry out, but no sound came. He groaned as his disgusting, decomposing hand thrust between my legs, exposing my vulva to his repulsive touch.
“Where’s Barrons? Where’s your saviour now huh? No one is coming Mackayla … except for me, of course!” He laughed at his own words.
I heard him spit … lubrication … and chuckle once more, before pushing his erection without any thought or care, roughly inside me, penetrating my core in a single long thrust.
The sudden burning sensation from below was excruciating, firing all my senses and nerves to red alert. Biting on my own hand, I squeezed my eyes tight as warm urine dribbled down my legs.
Violated in the worst possible way … again. Only this time it was worse. There had been a gang at the church, four of them took their twisted pleasure inside me, but their actions turned me Pri-ya … making me obsessed with, and addicted to, sex with those bastard Unseelie Princes. I hated what they did to me, but wanted it at the same time. Here, now in this dark, cold cell with this monster, there was no feeling of Pri-ya to anaesthetise me, and with the digested remains of Unseelie flesh in my stomach there were no side-seer powers to make it feel better … the feeling of him raping me was stark, isolated, discreet in its own right.
I felt everything … I hated it all.
I focused on the rhythmic shuffle of the table banging against the brick with every thrust as my hip bones slammed remorselessly into its near edge. The intensity of his tempo grew.
Each thrust getting harder and deeper, skin slapping against skin. My breath being sucked and pushed out of me as he raised my right leg in order to gain unencumbered entry to my body. As his grunting pitched higher, he pulled on my hair, snapping my head back, and with one final thrust his body went rigid.
Finally, he relaxed, his hold on me slackened with the release and then his weight lifted. My ribs felt crushed, I was sure the imprint of the table would be forever ingrained into my stomach.
Seconds later, I heard the pull of his zipper slip back into place. Leaning over, he used the thumb of his tortured hand, to stroke my cheek. My stomach heaved at the intimacy. He’d just violated me, yet he touched my face like we were a couple in love.
I tasted bile and fought hard not to vomit. I remained, splayed out over the table, exposed like a rag doll, too distraught at what had just taken place to move. In that moment, I just wanted to curl up and die.
Seconds stretched out in front of me. I could hear no background noise at all. It was deathly quiet. I waited for something, a fist or a blade slicing my skin. Something to end my ordeal, but it never came.
Was it over?
A hollow silence filled the gap. I hesitated, unsure what to do as the trickle of his thick juice spilled from my body and ran down my thighs. After what seemed like the longest time my legs gave way and I slid to the floor; daring to turn around, to face what was coming. When I did, the cell was empty. He was gone.
TO BE CONTINUED ...
TOMORROW'S EPISODE ... PART 4 - FLOGGED
