bruised and broken body speaking a deadly language of its own. Arturo forces my legs open, my cunt holds the cruel reminders of what I have lived through. His hellacious grin pulls me in, giving me no other choice but to watch him stare at me. The gold teeth that fill his mouth shine, showing me a false illusion of what he is capable of. He is the weapon and I am the wound.
The sharp edge meets my pussy and my womb constricts. I am a creature that was put in this world to be stabbed and fucked by the bad guys. I am proof that hell on Earth does exist, because I have lived through it. I bear the scars of the monsters that are filled with fury and hate. Disdain and murderous ways.
Apparently, this is another test to see how strong I am.
I look over to his forearm and my heart swells with pride as my gaze memorizes my crooked bite mark that is still oozing blood. I allow a small grin to appear on the edges of my lips. I let myself laugh again as I am pushed off the edge of balancing. I let my lunacy take over as I enjoy the fall.
Arturo breaks. He pushes my legs further apart, letting the blade graze over my pussy lips, threatening to make small cuts enough to make me cry out for him to stop. Pain rises to the surface, my old constant friend is the only one who has always been there. I let it reassure me as the blade taps over my old scars, remembrances flooding my mind of burnt skin and loving touches. Torture overcomes my brain as Arturo takes my lip in between his two fingers, pinching hard until I cry out further as terror fills me up enough for me to burst. He takes his knife and puts it to my skin again, this time laughing wildly and chanting aloud in Spanish. I wait as time stands still. Wait for the mutilation that has been part of my life for as long as I can remember, but it doesn’t come. Fucking coward . My tears stain my face as I stare up at the dirty concrete ceiling. The humming of the taxis and people shouting outside are calming the horror that surrounds me along with the pain that is destined to prowl its way up my body, threatening to consume me fully, taking me away from what I want to fight for.
“You ready to talk yet, puta?” Arturo whispers, letting my pussy lip free.
I briefly look at him as he gives my stomach a gentle kiss. Bile begins to burn my throat, and while I am usually good at controlling my bodily functions, my systems are sluggish and I can’t help it. I let the vomit escape my mouth. I cough and spit the puke free, the taste repulsive and vile. I attempt to look at him again, telling myself that this will give me strength to fight, but I fear that will only be a lie. His face makes its way between my legs, and for a second, his face looks like he is admiring me. But he is a creature of torment and dread.
His look is instantly replaced with hate. He spits on my cunt, then takes a closed fist and beats me violently between my thighs. The air in my lungs leaves me winded as I attempt to catch my breath, but it’s useless as his meanness devours us both. The blackness that wants to siphon my bout tickles my heart, telling me it’s okay to give up. I’m just a fruitless little flea in the grand scheme of things; the little one will never be good enough in a world of demons.
With another blow, I heave again and choke. My vision grows cloudy, but something is pulling me back. It’s like déjà vu all over again. I swear I can feel cockroaches swimming under me with heat between my legs as Pavel condemns me for existing, but I move my hands with much effort and all I can sense is the dirt and mud. I try one last time to take a deep breath, telling myself that I will return to the dark legends who my heart belongs to, but I fear that they, too, may be too lost to fix.
Perhaps we are all too far gone. Maybe we are facing the fall of our dysfunctional empire.
“Beating your filthy cunt won’t work. That’s what whores like you made of.”
Arturo flips me onto my stomach, which