Page 39 of The Way We Rot
He’d take me right to the brink, over and over, sometimes staying for an hour, or for mere minutes, but never letting me fall off that cliff. He made it clear I was his toy, and that I would get nothing out of anydalliancewith him. Not even an orgasm anymore.
He also told me not to touch myself, that all my orgasms belonged to him and were under his command. That made me smile. I liked that he wanted to control me like that; it meant he thought about me, that when he wasn’t in the room with me, he wondered what I was doing, if I’d obeyed. It felt a little like obsession, and I was here for it. Even if I was bored out of my mind.
But I was touching myself more than ever, making myself come multiple times a day tovisions of that man and his voice and his hands… and everything about him.
And as every day turned into night, I anticipated him, waited to hear the click of his heels down the hall. Slow, steady, growing louder and less careful.
And tonight, like clockwork, he was coming for me.
My belly squeezed to thoughts of what he might make me do this time. Yesterday, he pinned me to the wall and fucked my throat until he was halfway down my neck. Then he spent ten minutes licking every drop of his cum from my mouth, slurping and sucking until it was all gone, down his own throat.
He was such a dirty fucker, and I loved that with me, he let his freak flag fly. Maybe it was because he knew I was right there with him, or maybe it was because he thought it was a safe secret. We both had so much to lose.
But him more than me. His job, reputation, stability, it could all go. I was here forever anyway if I didn’t figure this shit out.
I smiled, stood ready for him as the sound of his footsteps down the hall grew louder, my body on fire for what he might do next.
My hand rested on my chest, rubbing warming circles to soothe the fiery ache when my cell door creaked open. It took a moment for my mind to catch up with what was before me, though.
Not CO Darling that walked in; but Randal, a sleazy smirk on his face as he moved closer, into my space. My stomach dropped, and confusion made my head fuzzy. Again? This was happening again? No, surely not. Surely not after all this would Darling send this prick my way once more.
I shook my head. What a damn coward. Just when things were getting comfortable, easier, he throws something like this.
“What are you doing here?” I asked Randal, stepping back, like it would make any difference, like there was a chance for escape in my tiny cell.
Everything was different in here. No weapons. No power for me. Like a rolling slideshow, the faces of all the men who’d harmed me first played out. Randal was going to hurt me, and nothing I could do would stop it. Nothing I could do after to stop him doing it again.
As the door shut with a soft snick, I realized something. Nothing big, just a thought about consent.
“Just came for some company. Rumor has it you’re not allowed out of this little cell.” Randal looked around, his attention landing on each small part of my space: the bunk bed, the desk, the tiny window that was too tall for me to see out of, and the toilet. The four walls within which I lived, and he sneered. It made my eyelid twitch.
“You moved shifts,” I commented, trying to figure it all out. Memories of feelings flooded me, pain and fear of the last time I’d been in a situation like this. Randal had come for me before, but now… now I knew his intentions, knew how far he’d take things. My muscles tensed, my brain threatened to switch off, and dread settled in me.
Randal nodded, sauntering up to me until we were almost nose to chest. I had to look up to see him, domineering and wide. At least, he wanted to be.
“I heard another rumor,” he said, spittle landing on my cheek. “That there were pretty little killers willing to fuck for food. And in the middle of the night, we have no distractions, no one to come catch us.”
Adrian told him. Everything. What he was doing to me, that I liked it. I fought to be angry with him, to let rage and despair leak through and take me over. But it just… didn’t. It was inevitable. It wasn’t fear that struck me as Randal stepped closer; it was a sigh, sadness.He was playing a game with me, he knew he could get me to do what he wanted, he’d done it before. This was… an amusement for him.
Adrian told Randal everything we’d done and played it for the transaction it was. Pain heated my neck at the idea of him, out in the big wide world, laughing about me and the things he could make me do. My skin itched.
Adrian was just messing with me.
I thought I’d read him right, but no. He was just like the rest of them. Using me. Abusing and working women to the bone to achieve what he wanted. And now he was passing me to one of his friends. At least, that’s what he hoped I believed.
My mind raced to see a way through this, to still get what I wanted. Confusion made my brain foggy; I couldn’t figure out Adrian’s angle. My eyes clenched; my head pounded.
But Randal grabbed my chin and squeezed, forcing my attention back to him. “Is that right?” he asked. “Will you let me fuck you, or do we need to fight a little first?”
“We’ll fight,” I grunted, so far from willing to bend despite what Adrian wanted. Or maybe he did want me to fight. Even if it would be easier. I just… I couldn’t pretend. Not with him. Not with this absolute slime of a man who might, for a second, think I would be willing.
Last time, I was trying something. This time, no fucking way.
Randal grinned, liking my answer, and slapped me across the face so hard I tumbled to the side, stumbling to catch my balance, not wanting to end up on the floor.
“Still want to fight?” he asked, cracking his neck like I was Mike Tyson and he needed to get me down. Shit, I was way smaller than him, and weak from shitty food in my belly and no fresh air in my lungs. He could probably blow on me extra hard like the big bad damn wolf and I’d fall over.
My cheek stung as I straightened, and I cupped it, rubbing away the pain, looking at CO Randal.
