“Exactly my point.” He placed a knee on the bed and grabbed my arm, pulling me close with his bruising hold. “I haven’t even heard an apology for the embarrassment you caused with your stunt on our wedding day.”
“You want me to be sorry I didn’t marry you? You hate me, why does it matter?”
He moved so fast I barely noticed until his fist struck my cheek and pain exploded across my face.
“Shut up you little cunt. You were never going to be anything more than a whore. You were sold to me like a whore and I’m going to use you like one. Then when you start accepting your place and learn to please me, I will teach you to be the best goddamned whore money can buy. Now spread your legs, bitch.”
With my face swelling and unshed tears burning in my eyes, I did as instructed. I didn’t have any fight left in me tonight. Maybe he was right and I needed to accept my fate. With my family out of the picture and Houston’s memory fading fast, what happened next was completely up to me.
I looked again at the marks on the wall. I think I was wrong. I don’t believe they’re a way to keep track of time anymore. Instead, I see them as an inevitable conclusion whether I fight the outcome or not. They are merely the countdown to my death.
* * *
On the eighth day of my captivity everything began to change. The beatings stopped and I met the nun, the name I’d come to call the woman who took care of me since I had no idea what her real name was. She comes first thing in the morning to groom me and is the last person I see before lights out. She controls when and what I eat and selects the clothes I wear for each new visitor to my room.
There wasn’t anything I did for myself that wasn’t directed by the nun. The cold-hearted and very silent woman who refused to speak to me no matter how hard I tried to get her to talk. The flicker of hope that flared to life inside of me the first day she came into my room quickly died. Her silent care became a new kind of torment that threatened to drive me insane.
I stared at my made-up reflection in the mirror. I didn’t really have to worry about going insane because I believed I was already there. To keep the physical torture at bay, I would drop down on my knees and take a new cock in my mouth or any other orifice of their choosing for a different man every single night.
I had learned my lesson.
He wanted me to be a whore, so I became a whore.
The word made me gag. Or maybe it was the cum I’d been forced to swallow. Either way my insides churned and I ran to the toilet and emptied the contents of my stomach. The noise of my retching echoed around the room, drumming against my nerves.
How? That was the only question I ever asked. How had this happened to me? Not why. I already knew the answer to that question.
I fell back against the cool tiled floor and stared up at the ceiling. My father was the most powerful man in Seattle, feared by all and I had been his princess until my twenty-first birthday. Due the nature of his business, I lived a sheltered life, one with no more responsibility than making my father look good.
I grabbed the small glass next to the sink and poured a generous amount of mouthwash into it. I lifted it to my mouth and swished the liquid from side to side. If only it were that easy to disinfect the rest of my body. In fact a little brain bleach would be perfect right about now.
I emerged from the small bathroom to find the nun standing inside the door. Startled, I took several steps back.
“What are you doing here?” I wasn’t expecting her until morning. She glared at me without saying a word. Instead she lifted a small suitcase from behind her and began packing the few belongings I’d been given. Most of which consisted of slutty lingerie meant to entice the men who darkened my door.
“Why can’t you say anything? I’ve done everything I’ve been asked. The least someone can do is tell me what the hell is going on. Am I going somewhere?”
The little witch continued to ignore me. I flopped on the bed and bit my tongue to hold back my scream of frustration. I was too tired for this shit.
It didn’t take long for her to finish and she shuffled into the bathroom next. She returned with a makeup case full of high quality products and all of my toiletries.
“You need to get dressed.” She held a small white dress and a pair of strappy high heeled sandals in her hands.
I sat up straight at the sound of her voice, hardly believing she could actually speak. “Did you just talk to me?”
In true nun fashion, she simply glared at me without saying another word. I tried to ignore her, but the weight of disgust evident in her eyes got to me as usual. I could disregard her request and face whatever punishment might be delivered or I could suck it up and change my clothes. I chose the latter.