The lighting in the room cast oddly shaped shadows over the broken walls. As the shock roared through Elise’s body, she could still feel his hands on her. She hunkered down into a darkened corner as the noises poured over her in muffled waves. She heard the sounds of grunting that reverberated through the room. Her wrists were sore and raw from the metal bracelets and chains that confined her.
Although her vision was blurred by the semen in her eyes, Elise could barely see the lamps, which was the culprit of the creepy, obscure atmosphere. The dim luminance brightened the white flesh that slapped against each other. She couldn’t pull her focus away from the torturous fluids that dripped down her inner thighs. The filthy floor felt coarse against her bruised skin, and although it disgusted her, she more than welcomed the odd relief the distraction offered to her.
She fought to gain control of her breathing, not for the sake of air, or lack thereof, but in the futile attempt that the sound would not draw his attention again. She looked to the bed, blinking her eyes incessantly. Attempting to discard the sticky cum from her eyes proved pointless. The discomfort from the semen often caused panic attacks as she witnessed the brutality taking place before her. Elise detested the cloudy vision because when she chose to watch the couple’s escapades, she was incapable of seeing precisely what was transpiring.
The steady sound of slaps captivated her as she continued to watch the other woman being fucked from behind. Elise cringed, listening to the mixture of gasps, grunts and groans. She was unsure what she feared most, the ruthlessness taking place nearby or the realization that it would soon end. The unbearable sounds began to slow in rhythm. When the labored breathing became more prevalent, Elise felt her heart rate quicken. She knew what would follow. They always came to her afterwards.
Occasionally, both the man and woman would approach her, fondling, prodding or violating her. Other times, Elise could hear the woman sobbing. The woman never spoke, never begged for comfort or mercy from the vicious man who used her. She appeared compliant and submissive, always following his lead.
The man began to stroll towards Elise, and her hands twisted in their binds. Her wrists pulled at the chain hobbling her, and she looked to the gritty floor as he approached. Once again, Elise desperately tried to disappear within herself, but she knew better.
He was the watcher, for lack of a better word, forcing Elise to endure the heinous acts she suffered. The humiliation that accompanied the rough, sexual undertakings only intensified as she remembered the day her ex-boyfriend raped her. Although the violation transpired one year prior, the intense memories haunted her. Elise’s current predicament threatened her grasp on reality.
As he knelt down beside her, she could smell the woman’s juices on him. Periodically, the man caressed Elise with what appeared to be sincere kindness. Unlike most men, his skin was soft, smooth and uncalloused.
The couple’s attentions confused her, overwhelming her senses with uncertainties. She crawled into her inner safe haven, which was anything but, and sometimes she could disassociate from the abuse she endured. Most of the time, the bestial rage that took her, forced her, time and time again, crippled her psyche. Elise felt fragile, knowing he would inevitably break her, just as assuredly as he broke the woman he had just fucked.