Page 3 of Madam Temptress
He laughed as he taped one foot, and then the other, to the bed posts.
“Fuck you!” I yelled, but he couldn’t understand me through the tape.
As soon as I was trussed up like a fucking sacrifice, he chuckled, and the sound sent goose bumps scattering over every inch of my bare skin.
Fuck. Why couldn’t I at least have clothes on? Jesus fucking Christ.
Tears sprang to my eyes, even though I fucking hated crying. It was useless to do and certainly wouldn’t help me.
But it was no mystery what was coming next.
Something I swore I’d never let happen again. Over my dead goddamned body—which wasn’t really a stretch of the imagination. I was beaten, bound, and defenseless.
I can survive this. I can survive. All I have to do is survive.I chanted it to myself ... and then something flashed in the darkness.
A knife.
No.
Fuck.
No!
“After we get done with you, I’m gonna make you pay for that elbow to my fucking dome. You hear me, cunt? So you best treat us real nice, or I’ll slit you open from lips to lips.”
Bile rose in my throat, and I nearly choked on it with the duct tape over my mouth.
“Yeah, you like that. Probably already fucking wet for me. Whore like you probably walks around dripping, just waiting for a cock.”
I wanted to close my eyes, but that wouldn’t make it better. If anything, it would be worse, because I wouldn’t know when he was coming at me.
I heard a jangle. His belt.
Fuck. Just survive, Mags. You can survive.
If they decided not to kill me, that was.
The next sound was the slow, taunting hiss of his zipper.
Cold sweat broke out over my body because there was nothing I could do. I was completely at their mercy, himandthe owner of the other voice from across the room.
Please, God. I don’t ask for help a lot, but right now, I could surely use a goddamned miracle. Please. Please. Please. Don’t make me carry this. This might be what breaks me.
The thump of his jeans hitting the floor came next, and right then, I doubted God or anyone else could rescue me. Shit like that didn’t happen for girls like me. We were the ones the bad shit happenedto, and we had to learn how to survive it.
It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve been raped. But there was absolutely no fucking comfort in that thought. None at all. Still, it reminded me it wasn’t impossible to live with. I just had to live through it.
“Gotta get hard for you.”
He grunted, and I didn’t want to even think about him standing there with his dick in his hand. I prayed he couldn’t get it up. Maybe he’d have whiskey dick. I hoped like fuck he had shit blood pressure and couldn’t get hard, even if Marilyn Monroe blew him.
“Oh, I’m gonna give it to you so good.” His voice was gravelly, and I was shit out of luck.
Monsters didn’t have problems getting hard-ons. They got off on the violence. Thrived on the evil. Their power only grew as they rip yours away.
Then there was athud, but bound as tightly as I was—my ears half-taped over—I couldn’t sense where it was coming from.
It wasn’t my imagination, because I could make out his form spinning around.
