Wow. This chapter took me so long to post because I couldn't bring myself to edit it. It's that hard. I still feel nauseated.
I feel oblidged to repeat that this is intended for mature audiences so please refrain from reading this if you're underage or feel like this will be too hard for you.
On a happy note let me thank you for the favourites, the follows and the reviews. They make my day and even the slightest bit of feedback is greatly appreciated.
I hope you enjoy this nonetheless :)

Chapter 3. Pitch Black

A part of me was scared that Jayce was going to barge into my apartment screaming his head off at me for ditching him at the pub. I could vividly imagine the way his red face would contort in anger as he spat horrid words at me.

I groaned, rolling around in my bed. It had been over twelve hours since Vi had taken me home after throwing up in a public toilet. The memory made my tummy turn some more and I could almost taste the embarrassment and regret. She had tried to reassure me as best as she could, and I eventually smiled at her, but my insides ached with a pain I couldn't identify or numb down.

Luckily Jayce didn't come. I decided to stay in bed to nurse my weirdly aching stomach in hopes that my madly beating heart would calm down. I was very unsettled by what had happened the night before and all I wanted was to get it out of my head. Maybe stay in bed all day and hope that sleep would come to me as easily as the shame and regret had.

I don't know how long I'd been staring at the ceiling in my bed when my phone buzzed. It vibrated a few more times before I gave in to see why it was doing that. The cute nickname I'd given Jayce in our pre-dating days flashed on the screen various times until I reluctantly opened the chat to read the messages.

JJ: come over

JJ: like now

JJ: need you

JJ: babe

JJ: get over here now or i swear to god

JJ: there r some pics u dont want the world seeing

JJ: come over now or i will send them to everyone in my contacts

Attached were the photos. I remember being mildly drunk after one of those late-night sessions on the roof drinking beer. He'd gotten kind of horny and kinky, and had thrown me on his bed, positioned me on all fours. Slapped my behind harshly, making me whimper. Of course I'd loved it. He'd proposed to do some other things and I agreed. It seemed like the sexiest idea ever when it came out of his lips and when he was looking at me like pure lust. I gave in to him filming me as I undressed erotically. He took pics of me bare, my head turned seductively to a side as I pretended to hide my breasts but didn't actually cover anything. A few more of me opening up my legs, inviting him in. A short video of me giving him head.

There were pics of me being taken from behind.

My phone fell from my hands as I was shaking so hard I couldn't control them anymore. I had forgotten all about them and the mere idea that he could have something so personal when I was feeling so vulnerable was terrifying.

The worst thing was that I'd like it. No. The worst thing was that it had been a special moment we'd both shared and he was going to use it to harm me. An intimate sexual act that I had enjoyed with him and now he would spoil it for ever, slut shaming me.

I didn't like the monster he had turned into.

I had no choice but to go to him. I asked where he was and he responded that on his bed, waiting for me. I grudgingly made my way to his apartment, my heart sinking more and more with every step I took, weighing me down.

He let me in, led me to his bed, pushed me down, kissed my lips and I just let him, feeling like I was empty, like I was far away and what he was controlling was the empty shell left by my soul.

He played with me, grabbing my hands and putting them over his clothed, erect cock, as if showing me that I'd done that and now I had to do something about it.

"Strip." He ordered. I looked at him, my eyes dead. He took a step back and I noticed he grabbed an almost empty bottle of alcohol, which he took to his lips. No wonder he'd stank like booze when he'd kissed me. Unwavering, I took my jersey off quickly. He frowned at that, walking over to me and slapping me with force. I fell on the bed behind me and started at him as he screamed at me that I hadn't done it right. "Wrong, wrong, wrong! Not like that!"

But I didn't understand what he wanted.

"Sensually, you stupid fuck." He kicked me, right in my ribcage, sending me flying yet again. The breath was knocked out of me and it didn't help when he pulled me up jerking my shoulders roughly. His words were slurring and his breath was warm against my face, sending off every alarm inside of me. He kissed me sloppily, his teeth yearning to open up wounds in my lips as he pressed my face harshly against his. He let me go and I could breathe again.

"Strip."

And I did, sensually. Slowly undoing the button of my jeans, hands running up and down my body. I was probably trembling. I couldn't stop myself from following the orders he barked at me, fearing more threats and violence.

He finished the bottle. I gulped audibly as he alternated looks between me and the glass in his hands. He smirked.

"I wanna mark you so fucking much." He snarled, pressing his nose and mouth against my neck, before biting it hard at the same time as he threw the bottle to the floor, making it explode in an array of shards. I was distracted by the noise, but he forced my head back by pulling my hair, forcing a short moan-like gasp of pain.

His nails attacked my skin then. Tracing my nearly undressed back, leaving pink marks from my shoulders to the verge of my jeans.

"You're so hot." He mumbled, this time his hands fumbling with the hook of my bra and tearing the cups off, his fingers digging into the soft skin underneath. I yelped as he pinched my nipples, bit them harshly. Tears were forming in my eyes as he took in my left breast and sucked before clamping his teeth over the sensitive bud.

Next, he struggled to get me out of my tight jeans. He only got them to my knees, which was good enough for him, I guess. He turned me round and threw me onto the bed, and I landed on my face, my arse in the air, in front of his face. He slapped it a few times, enjoying the muffled pained yelps that came out of me. This wasn't like when he'd sexually spanked me before. This was full of something more intense than the lust that had consumed him last time we did this.

It was rage.

"You're mine." He was saying in between his vicious slaps to my now pink behind. "Don't ever fucking forget that."

He stopped, inhaling air strongly, and I noticed his fingers dig into my skin. Prodding and exploring, feeling everything he could. He was surely enjoying himself by toying with the bare cheeks. He hummed to himself, letting go with one hand, which reached to dance around my outer labia. I shuddered at the contact and he snickered, amused.

"Fuuuck." He hissed, squeezing with one hand and giving a final slap with the other one, which pushed my head into the mattress some more. I felt a digit gently brush over my exposed arsehole and I instinctively clenched every part of me. He laughed some more, maybe at some private joke I wasn't in on.

"How very lewd of you to be showing me this." He muttered, his fingers trailing down to my pink slit and he started to play with the folds, as if it were a toy and him a young boy.

I huffed as he pushed a finger in. Two. Three. I felt the knuckles dig in as he arched the digits, prodding inside of me, maybe hoping to find something. He started thrusting and more tears fell from my face, only to die against the sheet were my face was pressed against.

If I believed in God I would've been praying to him. I just wanted this to end. I wanted my suffering to abruptly stop, I wanted to be saved.

He played some more. Finally he got bored and he finished undressing me, adjusting my position for him. Not so long after, his hot member was prodding against me, pushing inside of me and filling me with more than just dread. He grabbed onto my hair as he started a harsh rhythm, one I might have enjoyed, given other circumstances. He pulled my head back and I closed my eyes, crying, sobbing and begging him to stop. Yes, I was verbally pleading him to end it, to stop it, to stop hurting me, that I was sorry for whatever thing I'd done that had got him so angry.

He laughed.

I heard it clearly as it resonated in my ears.

He stopped, though, and I felt a hand push my head forward, and I was almost grateful when my face landed against his pillow.

I didn't see him, but seconds later he had a hand on my neck, turning my body round to face me and pressing me down.

"Since you don't know, I'm gonna mark you so that you understand who you belong to."

He'd grabbed one of the shards of glass and was pressing it against my nipple, forcing it erect due to how cool it was. He toyed with the perk bud as he grazed it, before sinking it viciously into the darker skin and slashing a cut from there to my navel. I screamed as my nerves bolted with the pain, my back arching unconsciously.

He smirked, lifting the shard before pressing it against a different patch of skin. He must've marked me at least ten times, from my ribs to the edges of my groin, all the while my voice going hoarse from my ached yells.

He left my face intact. Except for the fact that he'd slapped me, and the cheek still felt on fire. I guess it'd left a red mark. He'd also probably left a bruise from the kick before.

He cooed at the marks he left on my skin, brushing a thumb over them, spreading the blood all over the place and remarking just how pretty they are.

"Just as pretty as you." He finally observed, turning me around again and pushing my bum into the air so he could continue fucking me viciously. My newly created wounds burnt as my body was dragged against the bedding, the friction causing the pain to double.

He gasped, screaming in ecstasy, not pulling away in time and coating me with the white sticky fluid that I knew so well.

"You're so tight!" he gripped my hair and pulled me upwards and towards him, pressing our lips together in another sloppy kiss. "But I'm not finished with you."

He smirked as he pressed me to my usual position, face onto the mattress again. He grabbed my hips and adjusted himself before he entered me again, but this time, he was entering a hole new place. One he'd never dared use before.

"Oh my fucking God." He gasped, sliding in and out, slapping his balls against my still very sensitive and aching folds. "You're amazing."

This new experience wasn't devoid of pain. In fact, quite the opposite. It stung in a completely different way, making me clench my teeth and snarl at the obvious intruder. He was ruthless, his impressive rhythm undying, forcing me to yell and cry, beg and sob as I felt what was probably him tearing me apart.

It ended with a loud moan from him and I felt the way his fluids squirted inside of me. He hadn't even bothered to pull out in time, unlike before. It was different this time, since the risk for pregnancy wasn't as great.

He tossed me away and I rolled over on the bed, catching myself before falling off of it.

"Go away." He said almost immediately, laying down on the wet and dirty sheets.

"What?" I croaked out, my voice now barely audible since I'd been screaming for what seemed like hours.

"Leave. Like that. Don't get dressed. Show the world your naked slutty shame."

I was almost grateful I'd been let go. I ran away as fast as I could, ignoring all the aches, all the throbbing pains. I had smeared blood all over my body, especially my chest, and I could feel his cum leaking out of me.

I crossed the hallways as quickly as I could, hoping no one would see me in this state. My vision was blurred and my heartbeat was erratic, so I'm unsure if anyone actually did see me, since I was too busy making a run for it to notice my surroundings.

I reached my place and locked the doors behind me, my pulse skyrocketing as I felt I would never be safe, not even in my own home.

I made my way to the bathroom, hoping I'd have the courage to see the damage with my own eyes.

The was a huge gash from my nipple to my bellybutton amongst many more and I just hoped the damage wouldn't be permanent. It scared me to think that I might have been disfigured for life, even if it was such a small thing as loosing the perky bud on my breast.

There were red patches all over my skin, newly formed bruises and an array of scratches. I was trembling. I couldn't get myself to clean the blood up or dress the wounds. I couldn't find it in myself to even cover my own nakedness. I just stood there, shaking and feeling sick.

I looked at my face in the mirror, hating the reflection staring back at me. Bags under my eyes, a red cheek, messy, dirty hair… I looked like a living skeleton. How long had I looked like that? Had I always been this ugly? My stomach turned uncomfortably at the thought. I couldn't remember if I'd ever thought of myself as anything other than disgusting.

Sobbing loudly and with my hands still shaking, I reached out to grab the blue pills, proceeding to pop one in my mouth. I wailed as it travelled down my throat, my fingers retrieving a second pill to place on my tongue.

I couldn't take it anymore. I didn't want to carry on. I placed the blue pills on my bathroom basin before walking to my room to recover my phone. The tears blurred my vision but I managed to dial Vi's number, going back to the bathroom. I swallowed a third pill, this one scratching the inside of my throat as it was getting harder for me to get them down.

Three rings. Four. Five. She wasn't picking up. My free hand trembled until it reached my hair, where it attached itself to my roots and pulled as I fell on the floor, letting my sobs and a few unintelligible phrases out.

A fourth pill was placed in my mouth and then swallowed. I needed to do this quicker. It was getting unbearably painful.

Maybe there was a slight glimmer of hope in me as I fumbled with my phone but was able to send her a quick "help me" text before dropping it besides me.

My hand grabbed the pills and before I could contemplate what I was doing, I dunked them all into my mouth, spilling a few as I tried to swallow them down.

I wanted to die. I felt so utterly wretched that I did not deserve to be alive. I did not even deserve to breathe the same air as everyone else.

I hated myself. I loathed myself so much I had swallowed all the pills, hoping that would make the trick and I would die.

I was starting to feel numb when maybe my phone started ringing. It didn't matter. I didn't care.

The pain in my chest was too much. My hands felt heavy as I tried to pull out the horrid feeling inside my heart, but the only thing that did come out were the tears that had been there since the start.

I started feeling lightheaded and suddenly my world became pitch black.