WARNING: This chapter contains VERY graphic non-consensual contact that some readers may find tough to read. To me, it's an essential part of the story, but those who have issues with this subject matter may choose to skip the sections I've marked. I've posted a warning alert right before the disturbing scene and again right after. You can always message me for spoilers. Also, to those who don't enjoy the violence and wish for me to move on from the cellar scenes, try and bear in mind that they serve a purpose and won't last much longer. I've also decided to post Chapters 11-14 all at one time in order to keep the angst down and not to draw things out.

CHAPTER 11

Grin and Bear It

As the days dragged by, I doubted more and more that anyone was going to find me. I barely even noticed my stomach growling anymore because it was such a frequent occurrence. It wouldn't have mattered anyway since I was out of food. To keep my mind off my hunger pains and the mangled state of my back, I thought about Joe's proposal, and mentally kicked myself for not giving him an answer.

I couldn't remember a time when I didn't love him. Sure, we had history—some good and a lot bad—but we'd overcome all that and I was ready to make a permanent commitment. The only reason I'd asked for time was so I could tie up that one loose end with Ranger. But as it turned out, there wasn't a loose end to tie—there never had been.

Oh, I had no doubt Ranger cared for me, he probably even loved me in some way, but I also knew he didn't want a committed relationship. He wanted an uncomplicated personal life involving nothing deeper than great sex, and I didn't want to waste my life hoping for something more when there wasn't a chance I could have it. My brain knew all those things, but my heart needed to hear him say the words before I could truly give up on the idea of a future for us. It would ruin our friendship if I let it go on any longer.

Unfortunately, the words he used to—firmly—but gently let me down, were now permanently etched on my heart. Hearing him say them was worse than anything Durant could ever do to me. Just thinking about that moment brought all that pain to the surface, and soon I was crying myself to sleep.

"He's coming." A feminine voice floated across the air in a whisper, urgently nudging me awake.

My eyes popped open, quickly darting around to see where the voice was coming from. I expected to see someone standing nearby with the door open and ready to walk me to freedom, but there was no one there. Well, that wasn't true. The eight women were still there, staring at me while I'd slept. My eyes traveled down the line of cases, trying to figure out which one had spoken. When I realized how absurd I was being, I shook my head at my stupidity. I was acting crazy. No one was talking to me. I was all alone… well, that is if you didn't count the dead women.

As soon as I settled back down to rest, I heard the whispered voice again. "He's back." I jerked my head toward the sound, studying the women. Before I could figure out what their game was, I heard metal scratching sounds at the door and the bottom dropped out of my stomach. I knew what was going to happen and I couldn't go through it again. Knowing I didn't have a choice, I sat up as quickly as I could under the circumstances and shrugged the blanket off. Chill bumps covered my skin as the cold air hit me, but I couldn't worry about that right now.

He came through the door and closed it behind him, smiling when he noticed I had obediently shed the blanket before he came in. I perked up when I caught a whiff of the wonderful aroma coming from the ubiquitous box he carried. He raised one eyebrow, taunting me. "Are you hungry?" he asked. It was a ridiculous question. He knew full well I was starving. I nodded. My mouth was parched, and it hurt to speak. He pressed his lips tightly together. "Didn't I tell you to use your words?"

I managed to make a dry, raspy sound that resembled a yes. As a reward, he reached into the box and extracted a bottle of water, handing it to me. I drank greedily, draining the bottle in seconds. My shoulders slumped when I realized I might have stupidly guzzled all the water I would get for the day. He turned and walked toward the table, pulling a bag of tacos out of the box along with a two more bottles of water. I wanted to weep at the sight. Without turning to me, he asked, "Are you waiting for an invitation?"

Immediately, I got to my feet and made my way to the table. While we ate, he didn't bother making tiresome conversation which was fine with me because the only things I had to say to him would get me killed. The tacos were so good; I wanted to take my time—to draw the meal out—anything to delay the inevitable. I kept my eyes on him throughout the meal, watching for some weakness I could exploit, but all too soon, he was finished and motioned for me to finish up as well. He put everything away and pushed the table back against the wall. He stood in front of me and nodded his head toward the women. "Get into position."

The taco's turned to lead in my stomach and my mind started racing, trying to come up with some reason to convince him not to do this to me again. I looked up at him and did the only thing I could think of. "I love you," I blurted and then internally cringed. I couldn't believe I'd said it. My chest heaved as I waited to see if he believed me.

His eyes narrowed as he studied me. "You love me?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yes… I do." I nodded for emphasis.

He held his hand out to me. "Come to me." He made no effort to step back as I stood on frightened legs, our torso's touching. He reached out and ran his hand down the side of my face and it took everything in me not to flinch away. "Are you offering yourself to me?"

I couldn't speak so I nodded and tried for a smile that came out wobbly and sick. He wasted no time leaning in to place his lips on mine. I held perfectly still, hoping I could do this, but he must have felt my revulsion because he pulled back and stared down his nose at me with narrowed eyes. My mind raced, thinking what I should do to convince him I had feelings for him. I was ready to do anything to get out of another beating. As if he read my mind and knew I was only pretending, he shook his head and pulled me to the center of the room. "I wish you were ready, but you're not. Maybe in time—"

My pathetic attempt hadn't fooled him. The only thing I'd accomplished was prolonging what he had planned today, but I could minimize the number of times he struck me, that is if my memory didn't fail me. I'd spent every waking moment reviewing the women's stories and knew I could do a better job this time, but I wasn't kidding myself. No way could I recite the stories with one hundred percent accuracy. While I quickly ran through the stories in my mind one last time, he stepped close to my back, chin resting on my shoulder as he surveyed the women. He'd already taken his belt off and was idly swinging it as if already anticipating my mistakes.

I greeted each woman and recited their stories. By the time I finished I was on my hands and knees, tears rolling down my face. I'd received nine lashes, and my back was blazing. He came around to stand in front of me. "That was better, but still not good enough."

I swiped my hand across the snot running from my nose and looked up, wishing I could knock the smirk off his face. Once again, he took my arm, barely giving me time to rise on my own before he hauled me up and led me to the bed, pushing me down onto my stomach. I faced the wall while he retrieved the ointment and started rubbing the back of my neck traveling down my thighs. The lower he got the more nervous I became. When his hand grazed over my butt cheeks, I crossed my feet at the ankles, locking them tight to keep him out of my personal area. He stilled for a moment and then continued massaging one cheek and then the other until his fingers trailed down the crack of my ass.

BEGIN WARNING: Non-consensual acts.

He breathed a sigh of frustration and gripped my thighs, trying to force them apart. "Separate your legs," he ordered, but I only clenched them harder. My entire body jerked in shock when his hand smacked my already inflamed ass cheek. Pain flashed through me, searing my skin and my ankles unintentionally came apart. Before I could comprehend what was happening, his fingers were between my cheeks, rubbing over my puckered hole. I tensed, clamping my butt cheeks together and scrambled to re-cross my ankles. "Leave them open." His tone was harsh, and I knew he meant business.

I hated being held down against my will. I wanted to do something to stop him. I was so angry, my chest was heaving as I sobbed into the mattress, breathing in the same hot air I'd just exhaled. My instincts were screaming at me to fight—to cross my legs again—but I couldn't endure another hit. I just couldn't.

He carried on as if he wasn't destroying every part of me. His finger circled my forbidden hole as he leaned over me, blowing his breath across the back of my neck, and whispered, "Have you ever had a man here?"

My brain scrambled, trying to determine what he wanted to hear. If I told him the truth, that I hadn't, then he might get aroused at the thought of being first. If I told him that I had, maybe he'd be disgusted with me and leave me alone. I didn't know the right answer, so I stayed silent.

"Tsk-tsk," he admonished in a sing song voice. "You should be ashamed of yourself." He moved his finger further down to my other opening. "What about here?" His voice had gotten huskier as he dipped the tip of his finger inside. "Have you ever had a man here?"

My heart was racing. I didn't want to give him a reason to kill me, but he had to know a woman my age wouldn't be a virgin. When I didn't respond, he exhaled loudly and jammed his finger deep inside. "You should have saved yourself for me."

I winced at the sudden intrusion and pressed my face harder into the mattress, smothering my scream. I wanted him to stop, but I didn't know how to get through to him. Should I appeal to his conscience? Did he even have one?

"Women don't save themselves for marriage anymore," he complained as he withdrew his thick finger and shoved in deeper. I grunted as he twisted it around and started pumping in and out. "All of my wives were promiscuous before I met them." He rammed a second finger inside, and I stifled a sob at the sting of this fingernail slicing my delicate tissue. "Except for Jenny." He slowed down his assault as if he was reliving a fond memory. "She saved herself for me and I felt so lucky that we could lose our virginity to each other. That's why she'll always be special to me. A guy never forgets his first," he proudly proclaimed. I swallowed heavily, trying hard not to imagine a trembling young Jenny, having to endure what this monster did to her.

I winced when he suddenly pulled his fingers out of me and flipped me over with no regard for my sore back. "I want to see your face." The impact of my back hitting the bed had my vision darkening and I screamed one long continual howl that I didn't think would ever end. Several minutes went by before the pain lessened enough that my sight returned. When it did, his face was so close, I could count the lashes surrounding his blue eyes. For a strange moment, I was mystified that such outward beauty could hide the infection that was growing inside him.

I clenched my legs together and started to shake, fearing what he was going to do to me now. He dug his knee between my thighs, leaving bruises as he pried them apart. When he had them spread far enough for him sit between my legs, he sat back on his heels, examining me intimately. "Don't move. I want you to stay just like this."

I hate you—I hate you—I hate you. I shut my eyes and screamed over and over in my head.

I felt him lean over me, bracing his weight on his left arm while running the finger of his right hand down my jaw to my neck, stopping on the delicate bone at the base of my throat. "Did I tell you that Emmie spends hours brushing her beloved dolls' hair and making them do whatever she wants." I swallowed heavily but didn't open my eyes. "You're MY special doll," he said softly as his lips skimmed the side of my mouth, giving me a lingering kiss. I couldn't help the whimper that escaped as I turned my face away from his touch.

With the same finger he'd just had inside me, he turned my face back to him. "I get to play with you any way I want, and right now I want you to teach me how to please you." I could feel his breath on my face, so close, but I didn't open my eyes. I couldn't watch him do this to me. His finger started traveling down my body, over my breasts to my mound and between my slit. I could feel him watching my reactions as he hesitated at my opening. I turned away again and dug my heels into the mattress, only managing to scoot an inch or so before he slid his finger inside.

He leaned down, taking a nipple in his mouth and sucked at the same time he worked his fingers inside me. "Tell me you love me," he whispered in a husky voice.

At first, I didn't respond, but he continued his assault and I thought maybe I could get him to stop if I explained how I wasn't ready for anything physical. "I… "

He stopped what he was doing and waited for me to say more. When I didn't, he added a second finger and started pumping harder. "Tell me."

"I love… " I let out a broken sob. "You." I finished the rest on a strangled exhale, hoping it was enough to convince him.

His eyes lit up and I wanted to die. "Say it again." He added a third finger. I bit my lip and held my breath. "And look at me when you say it."

Giving in was my only option… even if I was compromising my dignity in the process. I slowly turned back to him and forced my eyes open. "I… love… you… " I said in between broken sobs.

He let out a satisfied sigh. "Now kiss me," he demanded.

I sobbed harder as his lips descended, and tears streamed out of the corners of my eyes, down the side of my face, landing on the mattress. "I do love you, but I… I'm not… ready… yet. I need more… time." I didn't think that was going to be enough for him to leave me alone, but maybe if I begged. "Please."

He sat up and I thought I'd gotten through to him, but then I heard the sound of his zipper. I started screaming and thrashing. "Nooo. No. No. No." I screamed it over and over again, hysterically thrashing about.

"Be still." He slapped me across the face, knocking my teeth together.

I was momentarily stunned.

I had to blink my eyes several times to clear my vision. And when I did, I saw him pulling his flaccid penis out of his pants. My blood caught fire and every self-protective instinct I had kicked in. I screamed. I thrashed. I kicked. I snapped my teeth at him, ready to bite anything that came near me, but my chains kept me from doing him any damage.

He took his finger, still wet from being inside my body, and rubbed around the head of his penis. I expected him to grow hard, and so did he, but when he realized nothing was happening, his face turned red and he started breathing harder out of frustration. He shoved off the bed, buttoning up his pants as he walked around the room, gathering his things to leave. On his way out the door, he stopped beside my bed, sneering down at me as if it was my fault he couldn't get hard. Then he threw the paper bag and water onto the bed and left without looking back.

END WARNING