A barrel of angst

♦4. The monster.♦

The realisation of what had happened crashes down heavily on me. It happened, I had been r***d. I wish it could be a dream that I’d soon awake from, but the ache between my thighs attest to the bitter reality of things.

He had not been gentle, but of course, who ever heard of a gentle r****t. There were bruises all over my body, and on his too, for I had not lain there like a log of dead wood, and let him have his way. No, I had fought him, employing every weapon in my arsenal, I kicked, I clawed and I used teeth. But I might as well have done nothing, for he had been unrelenting, it seemed as if my defiance spurred him on, excited him. He’d taken me three times, and each time had lasted longer than the last. The third time had been the longest, nearly an hour long, and I had long since run out of steam and the will to resist. All I could do was cry and rail feebly against his chest as yet again with guttural grunts, and erratic spasms I felt his hated seed being spewed inside me.

He took his pleasure, then rolled off me. Either due to being obscenely arrogant, or from over exertion, or even both, the man fell right asleep forgetting that the girl he’d just defiled lay right next to him, soon he was snoring lightly.

I looked down at the white linen sheets, now crumpled, it was stained with blood in some places, there was also blood between my thighs too. I had known what had happened, but seeing it was different. I had kept this for near twenty four years, it was my pride and he’d stolen it from me, I would never get it back, it was the one thing that could never be replaced.

I looked over at him, and several thoughts came to my mind, all of them dark thoughts, thoughts I’d never entertained. I did not know when I picked it up, but I had a pillow in hand, hovering above his sleeping form as I straddled his body. His eyes were closed, lips were slightly parted, and his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, he did not notice my weight on his person, it infuriated me and fueled the hate I felt in my chest. How dare he sleep so peacefully after what he just did to me? He deserved death and not blissful sleep.

I lowered the pillow, it hovered mere inches from his face, he deserved to die. I could see it in my mind, my hands pressing the pillow over his face, smothering and watching and smiling as he struggled for air, until finally he became still.

He deserves to die. My hands began to falter, I could not bring myself to do it, I was no murderer. The pillow fell from my hands, tears streamed down my face again, they seemed to be in endless supply. I turned my eyes from him and they landed on the table. The glass still had drink in it. I reached for, and took the glass, in two swallows it was empty. I never liked alcohol, but today was special. I reached for the bottle and refilled the glass, this time I drank slowly, turning again to look at him, feeling the burn of the liquid as it went down my throat.

I drained the glass, and again I refilled it, again I drank, again it burned, and when I had drunk the last drop, with a careless flick of my hand I sent the glass flying, watching as it crashed and shattered against the opposite wall.

I got off his body and off the bed. Gingerly I walked to the wall, wincing from the ache between my thighs. It had shattered into many small pieces, I selected the biggest shard, not bigger than my thumb. I Turned and limped back to the bed, looked down again at his sleeping form. His lips were still slightly parted, and gone was the haughtiness. He truly was a handsome man. It was said that before his fall, the devil had been the most beautiful angel. I guess one did not have to be ugly to do evil.

Glass shard in hand, a moment of indecision, and I leaned over, placing the jagged edge on his left cheek. Adding pressure to the hand, I began dragging the shard, watching as the flesh parted in its wake, drawing blood. He could have as well been dead, for he did not stir despite what I was doing to his face. It was not a clean cut, it was the shape of an upper case ‘D’, more angular than curved.

When I was done I set the shard down and watched as the blood began to cloth. With a sigh I picked up my clothes and limped out the door. I could not kill him, but this much I could do. Now both our bloods had been let, both of us will heal, both of us will bare scars, but only I had lost something.

I limped to the room I had be assigned, letting the clothes fall from my hands as I passed through the door. I would not be wearing them again.

I have watched, and read my fair share of narratives by r**e victims, but never once did I imagine I too will tell a similar tale. I stood, under the shower head, letting the water flow over my body, willing it to carry with away with it the lingering feeling of his body on mine.

I can’t remember for how long I stood under the water, but my already weak legs were soon unable to hold me up. I wiped down my body, and put on some clothes and I began to pack my very little belongings into a marginally larger bag. It was still dark, and the street was quiet. I couldn’t leave now, despite how much I wanted to. I went to the door and locked it with the keys, then I fastened the bolt in case he had a spare key, which I was sure he did. I would wait here until he left in the morning. And when he did, then I’d leave. As an illegal resident in this country I may have no rights and will probably not get a fair hearing, but I had dignity, I had resolve. I will leave.

I opened my eyes, and I could see the Sun’s rays streaming in through the window. I did not know when I fell asleep, but it was clearly morning now. The clock read 10.37. He would have been long gone by now. I took my bag, and pulled my battered body to the door, my thighs protesting at every step. I slid back the bolt and turned the lock. I stepped into the hallway, moving slowly but surely to the back of the house. The house as usual was imposing, empty and quiet, that was until I heard a voice say,

“Going somewhere?”

The man responsible for my present sour disposition and pain, emotional as well as physical had his hands in his pockets, and leaned carelessly against the door to my freedom. The bastard had the nerve to smile at me.

I stared at him defiantly, willing him to implode under my gaze, but no such luck. He shouldn't be back this early, I had planned my departure for a time when he would be away. This changes nothing I still shall leave, notwithstanding.

“Out of my way, you monster!”

"Monster, huh?"

"YES," I spat

“No, I think not,” he said, with a smirk, advancing on me. I flinched, and took a step back. He kept coming.

“Scarification,” he said, pointing to the bandage across his cheek. “I’m sure you learnt to do it during one of your tribal dances. You didn’t learn it well though, the cut wasn’t so deep, barely more than superficial. It would likely scar, but it won’t be too obvious,” he said, advancing slowly with the confidence of a hunter who thought he had his prey cornered.

I continued to retreat, keeping as much distance from him as I could, but soon my back hit a wall. There was nowhere else to retreat to, and like a truly cornered prey, the hunter took his time in coming for me. His right hand reached up and encircled my neck. He leaned over and I could feel his breath, it was hot and this time devoid of alcohol. He reached into his pocket with the other hand and pulled out a blood stained cloth, linen and white. It been cut from the bed sheet. He raised it to his nose and took a long whiff, then let out a satisfied sigh.

"This is your blood from last night, it explains the tightness of your cunt. It appears I had no cause to be alarmed, but just to be sure I had this tested. Very surprising result,” he said as he put the blood stained cloth back into his pocket, patting it.

“Squeaky clean. I had thought I had damned myself to suffer multiple STDs, you are black after all. Frankly I'm astounded, but who am I to question lady luck?"

I tried to pry off his fingers from my neck, but he only added more pressure, and he pointedly ignored the blows I gave to his chest and arms.

"I also learned something else, I know you’re here illegally, with fake papers and Identification. I could report this to the authorities, I could also say you tried to harm me. I’m a lawyer after all, it wouldn’t take much to have you behind bars, especially seeing as you actually did me harm,” he said, a finger tapping the bandage.

"You wouldn't!"

"Oh, I wouldn't. Just as long as you remain here, continue to do your work and cater to my other needs. I will continue to pay you of course. But if ever you try to leave, I will find you. If you accuse me, it will be your word against mine, and I'm sure you can guess whose side lady Justice will be on."He had not been gentle, but of course, who ever heard of a gentle r****t. There were bruises all over my body, and on his too,

"I truly am a ladies man, am i not?" He asked. "first luck and now justice," he said with a smirk.

His words sank in, and I realised just how pathetic my situation was, I had just become a s*x slave to this evil man and there was nothing I could do, and he knew it. Truly pathetic.

"I never considered myself a good man,” he said still holding my neck, massaging my throat with his thumb.

“I also never thought of myself as a man to do this, but I enjoyed you last night, surprisingly too. Your feeble attempts at resistance were also amusing,” he said still smirking.

“Now that I’m lucid and in full control of my faculties, I can only imagine how good your tight walls will feel around me. But why imagine, when I can make it happen.” With that, he ripped off my dress, let down his zipper, raised my leg and plunged into me. I screamed, I screamed at the horror of what was being done to me, this invasion, this violation of my body and I screamed for that was all I could think of to do.

He watched as again tears welled in my eyes, then he leaned down his head and stuck out his tongue, licking the tears from my cheek as they rolled down. The monster leaned again to lick the tears from the other cheek all the while thrusting in and out of me, with reckless abandon. I can feel him in me, I can feel every vein, I feel him stretching me, claiming me.