Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
“Do you have any idea what was in that fucking bottle of water?” the other man in the room asks.
“I was hoping rat poison,” I answer honestly.
Pirro doesn’t look impressed with my answer, and I know it probably kills him not to pull his boot back and kick me in the face.
“Enough Viagra to give you a week-long erection,” the man counters.
“I can have a fucking erection and not use it to fuck someone, you ignorant fuck,” I growl.
“We’ll see about that,” Pirro says, taking a step back as if he might honestly be afraid of me for a split second, regardless of how weak they’ve kept me.
If I thought for a second I could snap both their necks before they got the better of me, I would’ve lunged the second they opened the fucking door.
“You can fuck her with your cock, or I can fuck her with my knife,” Pirro threatens, as easily as if he’d just asked for lemon in his water at lunch.
Two men I didn’t notice file into the room, each of them rushing to one side of me. In a flash, I’m pulled to my feet, Pirro closing the distance between us now that he has more help.
His breath is warm, tinged with tequila and cigarette smoke as he inches closer.
“I guess you have a decision to make,” he says before stepping back. “I’m thinking it’ll be more fun if you refuse.”
My sandwich threatens to make a reappearance when he grips my soft cock in his hand.
“This cock is going to make us a lot more money,” he says before releasing me and walking out of the room. “Get him cleaned up and on set.”
The men drag me from the room, the fight in me almost nonexistent until I see them carrying me across the hall. I’ve suffered so much fucking pain in the room they plan to take me into that I can’t even fight the instinct to try and escape.
It doesn’t take much for them to wrestle me into the room. I’m grateful they have me chained once again with my arms over my head so quickly that I haven’t yet been able to beg to be released. Begging is the very last thing I want to do, but I don’t know how much longer I can resist the urge.
They step away, one guy heading for the water hose wound up on the wall. I’m trembling before he even turns the knob.
I’m blasted with frigid water, hating that I think of the woman from that very first day. I know now there was care in her touch, despite the freezing water she washed me with. She didn’t try to hurt me. Despite her silence, she didn’t seem like she enjoyed what she was doing. Hindsight is always clearer, and I now know that her touch was softer than anything else I’ve experienced since being here.
My teeth are chattering by the time the water is turned off. Several of my wounds are now seeping again, the pressure from the spray opening them up once again.
They don’t grab towels, rather they let me hang there to dry as they laugh and watch fucking videos on a phone they are both looking down at.
I know the reason for the wait. I feel the reason starting to take over my body, and I fucking hate them even more for it.
They needed time for the shit they put in the water to take effect, and goddamn them if it isn’t happening.
I don’t know how many times I’ve wished for death, how many times I’ve reached out to whatever higher being that may be floating around that he just let me die. Right now is no different, especially knowing what I’ll have to do.
I startle when hands touch me, hating that I’m so weak that my body just fucking randomly shuts down.
“Ready for a little fun?” one guy asks, his eyes darting between my legs.
I don’t have to look to check and see if the drugs are working. I can feel the weight of it hanging from me, an insistent ache I can’t help but focus on.
The trip to wherever they’re taking me is filled with more aches and pains as we climb one set of stairs.
“Are you fucking serious?” a guy walking past asks as he points at me. “Let Pirro see that motherfucker without a blindfold. It’ll be both your asses.”
One of the guys spits a curse before pulling the blindfold I’m obviously supposed to be wearing from his back pocket. I don’t bother arguing when he lifts it to my face. It’s not a battle I can win, so what’s the point in wasting the energy?
I’m carted up another flight of stairs, the blindfold not being pulled off until I’m shuffled into a room, the door shut swiftly behind me.