MOVING ON
Falling into the Music
By Pat Squared
The child could not longer remember anything but pain.
Weeks would go by, when she did not remember her name or anything that happened before she became the monster's plaything.
She had no identity left.
It was a relief when the blue man finally let her out of the cell.
Although her growing belly made it hard to hold the exact position that the blue man desired, the child performed her role as she was taught by her trainer. Her discomfort did not matter. She only existed to be used for other's pleasure.
She was compliant letting the blue man and others use her body as they saw fit.
Nothing they could do hurt as must as the monster that the blue man kept locked away.
Today, the blue man lent her out to someone called the Director for a movie that involved little or no dialogue.
It was not the first time that she was rented out. She had been rented out several times before to be used.
The director and his crew had their turn spilling their seed into her already occupied womb before tossing her into the shower.
The camera was rolling and the girl knew that she had to touch herself and play in the shower.
The girl followed the fat man's directions. She did not want another session with the blue man's trainer.
The crew dressed her in a moth gnawed wedding gown and pained her face with makeup. She had long since ran out of tears.
The camera rolled as someone in a leather tuxedo lead her down to alter.
Instead of Jesus on the cross were live females being whipped and penetrated by demons.
Someone dressed in the vestments of a priest motioned for the child to kneel.
There was dialogue between the priest and the man in the leather tux about receiving heavenly blessings before the priest hike up his robe and shot his semen over the child's face.
The man in the leather tux turned the girl to face the congregation, displaying her semen covered face.
One by one the audience approached and blessed the child with semen or piss before violating her bruised body. Soon she was being gang raped in all three orifices.
The child laid there as she was repeatedly humiliated.
Any thought of self-respect were long since erased.
The child no longer knew any other world but the world of pain and madness.
She remembered only the pain that the monster had inflicted and that this was her lot in life.
One in a while, she would have a bad thought – a though of the time before she entered the world of pain.
She remembered the piano when she saw the pipe organ in the abandoned church.
She remembered playing.
She remembered her imaginary orchestra.
She remembered losing herself in the imaginary music when the pain became too much for her to bear.
Soon the child was hearing the strings playing Haydn's Symphony No. 94.
She didn't know or care that it only played within the remnants of her mind.
She surrendered herself to the music knowing that nothing could hurt her here.
She was the conductor and her orchestra was the best in the universe.
The Queen and Queen of the moon and the all the Princesses of the Stars would attend her performances. All the universe would cry if they couldn't hear the beauty of her melody for one bar of her mind music transcended entire lifetimes of works by the greatest composers.
Part of her mind recognized being wrapped up in a blanket and walked outside.
The woodwinds and string played on as she was taken away from the darkened building.
They would keep her company until she passed out.
For the first time in memory, the child woke up in a real bed alone with no chained bounding her to the foot of her master's bed.
The room was empty save for two ladies.
They claimed that they were from something called Child Protective Services.
The child didn't know what this thing called child protective services was. She could not recall ever being a good girl and thus being worthy of not being used and beaten.
They were unlike the other ladies she encountered in the world. They were not slaves nor were they mistresses. They did not hurt her. They did not force her to pleasure them. However, they kept asking questions.
The only thing she knew was how to be used and how to make the music inside her head.
Knowing not what else to do, the child went back to playing Bach's Fugue in G Minor on her imaginary pipe organ. No one could hurt her here.
The child played the multiple melodic streams trying to drown out the outside world. She lapsed into unconsciousness as her imaginary fingers ran over the ivory keyboard.