I closed my eyes. This was not making love. I was being raped for the second time in a day’s span, and even though the physical pain had mostly passed, there were layers upon layers of mental anguish in its place.
I didn’t cry anymore. I wanted him to get this over with. He enjoyed my body, running his hand from my wrist down to my waist, then bending to suck my nipple again. In other circumstances I might have enjoyed his ministrations, but here, like this, they made me ill.
“Bueno,” I heard Marco say. Apparently he was happy with my cooperation. Asshole.
My eyes stayed closed. Please hurry, I silently begged.
Then Marco’s evil friend said in Spanish, “Let’s see how she reacts to the back trap.”
Back trap? What the hell was that? My eyes opened and Luis was looking right at me. He was sweating a little now.
“I gonna make you feel good,” he said. “Okay?”
I was too uneasy to respond. Staying inside me, he hiked up one of my knees and reached around, squeezing my ass. Then he lifted that hand and stuck his middle finger in his mouth, wetting it. Reaching around again I felt his fingers roam down to the crack of my body and press against my anus. The tip of his middle finger slipped in and I cried out, bucking upward. Nobody had ever touched me there, and it felt like the worst kind of violation.
The disgusting man by the door laughed at my reaction.
“Shh,” Luis murmured. “You relax, baby, and feel good.”
“No,” I whispered. It was horrible and demeaning, but he didn’t seem to be able to push his finger any deeper from that angle so I stopped fighting.
With his finger half inside my ass, he began moving faster, breathing harder, getting closer. A single thought crossed my mind, and I couldn’t help but say it.
“I’m not on birth control!”
“Don’t worry,” Marco said. “He will pull out.”
Less than two minutes later he did. I was so relieved when Luis finally came on my stomach that I wanted to cry again. He gave me a smile, as if to say “good job” and I felt an overwhelming gratefulness toward him. I was experiencing genuine gratitude toward a man for not being violent when he violated me…how fucked up was that?
Luis dressed and left the room with a nod from Marco. I didn’t like the way the other man was staring at me now. Or the fact that he was obviously hard inside his slacks, and not afraid to rub himself in front of others.
“Perla!” Marco called.
She must have been nearby because she came at once, bowing her head to him and saying, “Sí, Amo.” The word surprised me. It was almost a loving, worshipful way of saying “Owner.”
“Take se?or Hernandez to the Atlantic room and see to his needs,” he said in Spanish.
Perla, beautiful with her bronzed skin and shiny black hair, led Mr. Hernandez away with a sway of her hips. He gave me one last lascivious glance before leaving. How was Perla not afraid of him?
When Marco came to my side I was trembling from the aftereffects of the encounter. He unlocked my handcuff and said, “It’s time to clean you up.”
I pulled my shirt down over my breasts. Taking me by the wrist, Marco led me to the bathroom inside the room and let me go, but he made no move to leave. He gave the toilet a pointed look. I unwound toilet paper and cleaned off my stomach, then flushed it and looked at Marco again.
“You must need to relieve yourself,” he said.
I did, actually. Really bad. I hadn’t gone since last night and it was at least ten in the morning by now. I must have been dehydrated.
Was he going to stand there and watch?
“Go,” he commanded. Well, that answered my question.
I sat reluctantly on the toilet and stared down at my hands, feeling his eyes on me. It’s not like I’d never peed in front of anyone before, but going in front of my girlfriends, or a serious boyfriend, was different than in front of this strange man who proclaimed to own me and just ordered my rape. It was just another exertion of his power over me and my loss of personal freedom. Another reason for me to hate him.
I finished and he led me back to the bed where he cuffed me again.
“When we dock to refuel, it will be time for your shower. I will have clothing brought to you. And food. You will not waste food again.”
“Yes, Sir,” I said, feeling chafed and hungry. I was ready for him to leave because I desperately needed some alone time to gather my strength.
He got up to leave, and on second thought came back to the bed and sat, lifting my shirt. I drew my legs up to my body and held my breath. No, no, no. I couldn’t handle having sex again so soon. I would lose it. But he only seemed to want to inspect my boobs for himself. Pushing my legs aside, he gathered my breasts in his hands and squeezed, then cupped their light weight. He ran his thumbs slowly around my nipples until they both puckered into tight knots. His thumbs brushed over their tips and I sucked in a breath, feeling light headed.
With a satisfied nod he pulled my shirt back down and left me with my dark thoughts.