𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏

GRAPHIC SEXUAL ASSAULT READ WITH CAUTION!

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𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐀

They're coming.

I can always hear their footsteps before the basement door opens.

I know the others can hear them too.

I look around the basement, around the different cells watching as others either cower into corners or try to ground themselves.

I don't know any of their names. We aren't allowed to talk to one another since we could be "planning an escape".

I don't see how that's possible when they have chains secured around our necks.

The creaking of the door has me turning my head. I wait, I watch, I want to see who's coming. How many of them there are. If they visited before. How many cries I'll have to hear tonight and if one of them will be my own.

We have some regulars. They have their favorites, their "chosen ones". When one of those men walks through the door the others can relax.

Unless it's one of their masters, of course.

But those returning customers, they're the worst.

My brother lets them test out everyone they'd like before they choose their personal little slave.

And yes, whereas the other captives are strangers to the man in charge, I'm his sister. Sometimes I think he likes to fuck with me more and stick the really sick ones with me just to torture me a little extra.

Because most of these regulars, he likes to suggest me.

Don't ask me why.

But it seems I may be safe today.

One man steps into the open walkway, then another. Following them is another man and finally the boss.

One by one each man walks down the walkway surveying the options, picking and choosing which one of us they want to use.

It's the same routine nearly every day.

And even so, the pain gets deeper and deeper. My mind dissolves, piece by piece. My body becomes theirs day by day as they rip away at me.

The second man, round face, button nose, brown eyes, and plump stomach stops before me, staring at me. I stare back just watching as he trails his eyes down my body, over my breasts, following the curve of my waist. He tilts his head at my legs.

A gash. A wound. An inconvenience.

A cut on my leg is what saves me from being raped today.

Or so I think.

But before I know it the man has walked back to my brother, received the key to my cell and collar, and is petting my hair. His fingers run over my head again and again before they travel down my face, caressing my lips, running over my eyes, and pulling my hair back.

My head snaps up to his as he angles my head. He tilts his, inspecting me, seeing if I'm damaged goods.

Surprise, surprise. I am.

But this oh-so-lovely gentleman doesn't seem to care.

He sticks his thumb in my mouth his eyes narrowing, commanding me to wrap my lips around it and give it a suck. I do, I comply, I submit.

It's my only way to survive.

Because with these men, one wrong move and your brains are on the wall.

A smirk graces his lips before he pulls his thumb out of my mouth. His hand cradles my jaw and then he's speaking, "You're quite impressive, baby girl."

"Thank you, sir," I say and I watch him. I watch as his eyes start to glimmer. I watch as his dick starts to grow. I watch as ideas start rolling around in the man's head.

He turns his head to the boss, giving him a nod, then he's unlocking my collar and unbuttoning his jeans, he's grabbing at my nightgown, ripping the fabric over my head. He's pulling down his jeans and taking his penis out, stroking it once, twice, before he's slapping it on my cheek ordering me to open up.

I do.

It's my only way to survive.

His dick is down my throat before I can prepare myself. My gag reflex kicks in and I accidentally bite him. He pulls out, and he slaps me across the face before he pulls my face back and positions it so he can punch me right across the jaw.

I cough up the blood that's gathered in my mouth, spitting it on the ground next to me.

"Bite my cock again and you're dead bitch." His words come out harshly through clenched teeth. They're said to scare me, but can you really take a threat seriously when you've heard it so many times?

"I'm so sorry sir. It won't happen again." I lower my head, but he lifts it back up motioning for me to continue.

I open my mouth, preparing my throat for his dick to make a reappearance. I keep my hands on my thighs and let him use my mouth as he thrusts his hips back and forth and holds my head steady in place. He uses me for his pleasure, over and over while I'm counting down the seconds for him to finish. To just be done with me.

He pulls out as a shudder goes through his body and he lets out a deep groan.

"Fuck, your mouth is good, but I want your pussy." He bends over slightly to take my breasts in his hands. He squeezes hard making me whimper in discomfort. His tongue darts out, licking his lips before he bends down and licks the tops of my breasts. "Your skin is like silk." His words mean nothing to me. His words cause my chest to feel as though I'm being stabbed by thousands of knives.

"Now flip over. On your hands and knees bitch."

I do as I'm told, getting myself in the doggy-style position.

This is most of the men's favorite. They don't want to see our faces as they take and take and take from us. As they take something that was never theirs.

The only ones that do want to watch are the worst. They're the ones who make it their mission to see us come, to see an orgasm rush through our bodies.

I'm on my hands and knees ready for his penis to slide inside me, ready for the pain that comes with it.

His hands find my hips and then he's inside.

Somehow this pain never dulls, if anything it gets stronger and stronger with each man that claims me.

One of his hands leaves my hip and pushes up my back, into my hair, and then my face is slammed into the concrete.

I turn my head sideways, resting my cheek on the cold floor and letting the man behind me use me as he pleases.

It's a routine you see.

In and out, in and out, in and out until they come and I fall apart.

I rock back and forth on my knees as he pushes into me before pulling out. I can feel the tip of his stomach on my ass making it so his dick can't get all the way in.

"Fuck, feels so fucking good," his words do nothing to ease the ache inside me, nothing to ease my suffering.

But he doesn't care. He just continues to take and take and take.

I close my eyes basking in the darkness and letting my body take the toll of his movements, of his forced dominance.

He smacks the side of my eyes, "Open," he commands and my eyes instantly obey. They find my brother. He's outside my cell watching with a smirk as the man behind me rapes me. He watches with a smirk as I lose another part of myself. He watches and he smiles because I just made him a few extra bucks.

He watches and he smiles because he knows tonight I'll get punished.

Because I was taught not to gag.

***

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