Chapter 7 Sam

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"Mmm, that was even better than I thought it would be," Mr. Whyte purred, as his sweaty body draped over my back.

Pushing away the physical and emotional pain of being violated, I used every bit of my anger that I carried around inside over the past year. All the loss, fear, worry, and pain that was happening now to the day my family was killed. I welcomed all of it but instead of breaking me down it gave me strength. This was no worse than what I already been through. This man and this place were not going to break me. I was too damn strong to be broken like this. Body heating up, limbs shaking, I used all my strength to push myself up and throw Mr. Whyte off my back. Catching him off guard while he bathed in his afterglow. Now flat on his back with the look of surprise on his face, I fell on him like a savage beast and began hitting him over, and over again. Full forced hits to his face, the whole time screaming aimlessly.

I was hitting him so hard and fast that it took him a couple times before he could block the hits. Arms coming around my waist, gently, but quickly pulled me off the bloody and very pissed Mr. Whyte. Kicking and my screaming continued, Joseph was mumbling something, but my rage was full blown and my brain was unable to comprehend what he was saying.

In a full outrage, I didn't feel the first hit across my cheek, but the blow to my midsection caught my attention. Wind knocked out, no longer able to scream, while I gasped for air. The next immediate hit I did feel, right hook to the jaw.

"You bitch. You broke my nose. Again!" Mr. Whyte roared. With a quick movement, he had my hands in cuffs that I didn't notice before, and they were now snuggly around my wrists. "Hang her up," he barked.

I tried to catch my breath, and all the rage and energy swiftly dwindled to nothing. Legs giving out, Joseph held me up and tentatively brought me over to the chains. Lifting my arms he hooked the chain that connected the handcuff over the hook. Or where they called manacles?

Did it really matter what the damn things were called? No. It did not matter. It even amazed me where my head wandered too when I found myself in a difficult situation. The gentleness of Joseph had me pay attention on what was going on. Reluctantly, Joseph let me down gently. I now hung from the hook with my arms straight up with my toes just touching the cold cement floor.

"I was going to wait for this stage of our relationship to grow," Mr. Whyte said, standing behind me, all I could feel was his breath on my neck, "but now that I see you like it rough...Have I told you how glad I am that you have a problem controlling that temper of yours?" He chuckled, "Joe, you can leave us now, unless you want to stay and watch our beautiful love making."

I could not suppress the shiver that ran down my back as his breath continued to hit my bare skin. After that comment I had to do everything not to look at Joseph, plead with my eyes to get me the hell out of here. I already knew the answer. He would not, possibly could not help me. Keeping my head hung, I bit the inside of my cheek and struggled to stay quiet, for once. From the corner of my eye, I could see Joseph move and out of my view, a second later the familiar click of the door closing echoed through the room. I was alone with the man who had just raped and hit me and he was ready for round two.

Hands on my hips, lips brushing my upper arm, he said, "It's just the two us now." His tongue darted out, teeth grazed my skin right before his teeth sunk deep in my upper arm.

Pain shot down my arm there was no suppressing the scream that came out of me. I didn't even try to fight it. I thought he caught me off guard before but this was worse. That was just the beginning of what he classified of lovemaking.



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