43

[REBECCA]
“Did you desire him? Answer me!” Raffaele hissed, the whip slashing across my bare back, leaving searing trails of agony in its wake.
“No!” I screamed, the pain blinding me, engulfing my senses. My body was exposed and bound, spread-eagle, the chains from the ceiling constricting my wrists, suspending me in a helpless state. My toes barely grazed the ground.
“I saw the way you looked at him! You wanted him, didn’t you? You craved his touch, didn’t you?” Raffaele’s voice dripped with venomous accusation.
My head shook violently, and a cry escaped my lips as the whip struck my back once more. Desperation filled my voice as I gasped, “No! I didn’t do anything. I don’t want him.”
It was the truth. Throughout the night, the man had been casting strange glances my way. He had even attempted to touch me, but I had done my best to avoid him, barely acknowledging his presence. He made me feel uncomfortable, as if insects were crawling under my skin.
Yet, Raffaele, in his characteristic manner, believed only what he wanted to believe.
In his eyes, if a man desired me, it was my fault. I had enticed him. My body was to blame. It was all my fault, and now I had to suffer the consequences.
Because I had betrayed him. My body had betrayed him.
“Raffaele, please,” I pleaded, hoping for a shred of mercy.
However, he remained unrelenting, showing me no mercy whatsoever. Gripping my hair tightly in his fist, he yanked my head back sharply, causing a surge of pain to shoot through my neck. A forceful slap across my face left a metallic taste of blood where his ring had cut my lips.
“Liar,” he hissed, spitting the word in my face.
“Please, believe me,” I begged desperately, my voice filled with anguish.
“You are mine! Mine!” Raffaele’s voice dripped with venomous possessiveness. “Your body is mine. Your lips are mine. Your pussy is mine. Your ass is mine. Do you understand? All mine!” Through gritted teeth, he squeezed my cheeks with his fingers, forcing me to meet his gaze.
I nodded rapidly, desperately agreeing, hoping that my compliance would bring an end to the torment inflicted upon my body. “Yes. Yes. I’m yours, Raffaele. I belong to you. Only you! My body is yours. Please, I’m sorry. I didn’t want him,” I sobbed uncontrollably.
My body burned, my cheeks throbbed, my heart pounded, and my soul shattered.
“You need to be taught a lesson. Then you will understand,” he declared, releasing his grip on my chin. Raising the whip high above his head, I instinctively flinched, bracing myself for the searing pain that would soon follow. And when the leather struck my vulnerable flesh, an agonized scream escaped my lips.
Once he had finished abusing my body, he callously dropped the whip and began unzipping his pants. His arousal was evident, his need urgent.
Closing my eyes tightly, I braced myself for what would come next.
But no matter how much I tried to steel myself, the pain always remained the same. It felt as though I was being torn apart from the inside out. A cry of agony erupted from me as he forcefully thrust into me, lifting me off the ground, my toes barely touching the floor.
He pounded inside me with cruel intensity, until finally, he reached his climax with a roar. Pulling out, he seized my chin once more, his grip harsh and demanding. “Look at me!” he commanded, his tone filled with contempt.
My eyes snapped open, and I found myself staring into his furious, black eyes. The intensity of his gaze made my heart race. Without warning, his lips forcefully collided with mine, causing me to wince in pain. It felt as though my face was being marked by his nails as he pressed them into my cheeks.
“You belong to me, Rebecca. Never forget that,” he declared, his voice filled with possessiveness.
Suddenly, I jolted upright in bed, overcome with a sickening sensation and a burning sensation on my skin. It was as if I had just been whipped, and my body revolted against the torment. A wave of nausea rolled over me, and I struggled to leave the bed, my movements hindered by the pain. Limping my way to the bathroom, I collapsed in front of the toilet, retching uncontrollably.
I gagged, vomited, and cried, my body wracked with uncontrollable sobs. The pain consumed me, squeezing my chest and suffocating me. Everything that seemed so perfect a moment ago now turned into a nightmare. This was meant to be a fresh start, a new chapter in my life filled with hope. But it was all a cruel illusion, a fantasy built on false expectations and shattered dreams.
Despair overwhelmed me, and I questioned the purpose of continuing to live when all I felt was indescribable pain. The room spun around me, my dizziness distorting my vision. In my anguish, my eyes caught sight of the shaving razor Lynda had given me. It sat on the counter, almost beckoning me to take it. With trembling hands, I reached for it, the sharpness cutting through my hazy thoughts.
I slumped against the edge of the bathtub, hugging my knees tightly, as I stared at the razor before me. All I craved was silence, an end to the relentless agony. Tears streamed down my face, serving as a reminder of the scars I carried from my past, both visible and unseen. Confusion clouded my mind, and I struggled to think straight.
All I yearned for was peace, an escape from the tormenting voice of Raffaele echoing in my head, driving me to the brink of madness.
Extending my trembling arm, I positioned the razor against my wrist. With a heavy heart, I shut my eyes and leaned my head back, allowing it to rest against the cold porcelain of the bathtub. The absence of sensation enveloped me as I pressed the razor firmly into my skin, dragging it upwards. When I finally opened my eyes, a vivid crimson line greeted my gaze, indicating the release of blood.
Yet, in the midst of it all, I remained unaffected, as if a veil separated me from the pain.
Why was there no burning sensation?
Why did it not hurt?
Overwhelmed by frustration, I placed the razor against my other wrist, exerting intense pressure as I twisted it into my flesh, mirroring the previous cut. The razor slipped from my grip, leaving me to contemplate the chaos I had wrought. My once unblemished skin now lay open, and blood adorned everything in sight – my arms, my dress, the unforgiving floor.
The bathroom surroundings blurred before me, resembling a distorted painting where every brushstroke blended into another. My vision faltered, reduced to a haze that distorted my perception. Succumbing to the overpowering dizziness, I surrendered to gravity and toppled sideways, my skull connecting harshly with the unforgiving floor.
As black dots invaded my diminishing vision, a gradual numbness invaded my senses. I could no longer feel a thing.
In that fleeting instant, it possessed a strange beauty.
As my eyes began to drift shut, descending further into the abyss of darkness, a smile graced my face.
Silence prevailed. A profound and absolute stillness.
And in that solitary moment, it was all I desired.
***
[LYNDA]
“Hmmm…” I murmured softly as our lips met, savoring the warmth of Milandro’s kiss.
“I miss you,” he replied, stealing a quick peck from me.
His words made me giggle, and I found myself entangling my fingers in his hair, pulling him back for a deeper, more passionate kiss. “You saw me last night,” I teased.
“I missed you the moment you left,” he confessed.
I playfully bit his lip and responded, “Stop being so sweet.”
“Only for you, baby,” he whispered, his sweetness overwhelming me. Rebecca had been right about him all along. I did love him. But doubts crept into my mind. Was this the right path? Was he truly my soulmate?
I had always yearned for an epic love story. Could Milandro be the one I had been searching for?
He possessed all the qualities I admired: kindness, care, and gentleness. However, he had never uttered those three precious words, leaving me waiting for his confession. Days turned into weeks, and desperation grew within me as I longed to hear those words.
His hands gripped my waist, pulling me closer. Perched on the kitchen counter, my legs wrapped around him, I could feel his desire pressed against my core.
“Not here,” I whispered, aware of the potential consequences. “Mom will be furious.”
“I know,” Milandro growled, his frustration evident. He reluctantly moved away, pouting. “Damn, baby, I need you.”
“After breakfast,” I proposed, trying to delay our desires.
“Pure torture,” he shot back, his disappointment palpable. I jokingly slapped his chest and playfully pushed him away. As I was about to unwind my legs from his hips, my eyes widened with horror. Behind Milandro’s back stood my mom.
Oh, no.
Caught red-handed.
“Oh God! Not on the counter. Please not on the kitchen counter!” Mom gasped in shock.
Panicked, I swiftly pushed Milandro away and jumped off the counter. “I swear, Mom, we were just hugging. We weren’t planning on taking it any further.”
Milandro’s cheeks flushed slightly, and I felt myself blushing too, embarrassed by the situation.
“Lynda,” Mom warned sternly.
“I know. I know. It won’t happen again,” I sighed, feeling guilty for the trouble I had caused.
“Well, I have to go. See you at breakfast,” Milandro said as he made a hasty exit. Just before leaving the kitchen, he sent me a mischievous wink.
Coward. I couldn’t believe he left me to face the consequences alone.
Mom’s gaze bore into me, and I pouted, employing my best puppy eyes to win her over.
“Mom, I swear we weren’t going to do anything on the counter. It’s clean,” I pleaded.
“Lynda, are you using protection? Please tell me you’re being safe,” she implored, her concern evident.
Here we go again.
“I think I’ve got that covered,” I assured her, hoping to alleviate her worries.
“Okay, I was just checking,” she shrugged casually, then turned her attention to the oven. “Where could Becca be?”
That question lingered in the air, as if echoing the growing sense of concern. Becca was running late.
“I don’t know, I haven’t seen her,” I replied, my worry beginning to intensify.
Mom paused her tasks, her face mirroring the worry that crept into my own. “Should we go check on her?” she suggested.
“Yeah, I think we should,” I agreed, feeling a sense of urgency. Leaving the kitchen behind, I hurried upstairs and halted outside Becca’s bedroom. However, my knocks on the door received no response.
Growing more anxious, panic started to pulse through my veins. Without further hesitation, I turned the doorknob and stepped inside. “Becca?” I called out, but silence greeted me. She was nowhere to be found in her room.
Could she be with Artemy?
Those two were absolutely adorable together. If they didn’t make a move soon, it seemed I would have to intervene myself. Both of them could be quite stubborn.
They clearly needed a nudge in the right direction.
Just as I was about to turn away, my eyes caught a glimpse of light coming from the bathroom. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and I followed the glow, assuming she had simply forgotten to turn off the light.
Pushing the bathroom door open, my breath caught in my throat as I beheld a sight that sent chills down my spine. The world seemed to freeze as panic gripped me, my heart sinking deep into my stomach.
In a state of shock, I let out a scream and rushed into the bathroom, collapsing beside the unconscious figure of Becca. Her body was drenched in blood.
“No. No. No,” I whispered, my voice trembling with panic and fear.
I pulled her into my embrace, holding her tightly, and noticed the long gash on her arms.
“Oh God!” I cried out, the tears streaming down my cheeks. “Becca! Why?” My words were a desperate gasp, filled with anguish.
My stomach twisted in knots, and a wave of sickness washed over me. The weight of an invisible burden pressed down on my heart, making it ache unbearably.
“No!” I clung to her even tighter, her blood staining my dress.
I screamed.
“Mom!”
Running my fingers through Becca’s hair, I continued to weep, my cries blending with the sound of my anguish.
“Artemy!”