Bleeding Heart

(again. No real editing done)

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She pushed at him with her free hand but he simply yanked her captured arm further up behind her back. She screamed and his tongue slipped inside of her mouth. With his other hand he reached for the hem of her nightdress and began to bunch it up in his fist. Raising the material in short violent bursts that forced Elly’s hips to rock forward.

“I have a present for you.”

Confusion swamped her. “What?” She gasped out, struggling not to teeter. Her balance wasn’t that good, but is grip on her forced her on her tiptoes and kept her there. Any movement was torture and she feared if she struggled to hard he would simply break her arm.

The pain was making her dizzy, the fear was making her lightheaded. When his fingers slipped between her legs and moved her panties to one side she closed her eyes and just tried to breathe. What did it matter if he raped her? She’d been through that and worse before. One man was no different from another right?

She could handle it.

She could take it.

She would be alright.

“No princess. Open your eyes for me.” When she refused she felt one of his fingers slip between the lips of her sex. She grunted in pain when he began to push at the soft nub of her clit with the pad of his fingers. The pain was bearable at first but as he increased the pressure another finger slipped in to plunge deep and hard inside of her. She gasped and her eyes flew open to meet his.

What she could make out of his expression chilled her.

There was a hardness to him, a determined focus that had a whimper rising and dying in the back of her throat.

He was much, much worse than her papa.

“Keep your eyes open for this next part.”

She nodded her head, her entire body trembling as he bent his dark head over her and stared into her face.

“I left you a present.”

“Yes-” She breathed on a whisper, “I gathered as much.”

He grinned.

“I don’t like him touching him. I don’t like him fucking you. He’s already confessed to his sins, our good priest. Confessed and repented you might say. Which I think is just the yummiest of irony.”
Yummiest? Who the fuck said Yummiest? Was it even a word?

He must have read the thought on her face because he threw back his head and laughed. It was a dark sound, heavy and thick with something Elly couldn’t name. She searched for it but was distracted when his fingers began to move on her once more. His fingers were long and graceful, but strong. Wit each thrust of his hand he forced her off her toes and a small grunt from between her lips. He held her close with the grip on her arm so that every time she arched up she felt the thrust of his cock through his jeans as they brushed against her stomach.

His head bent low over her and she felt his teeth brush her neck. Everything about him was just a little to sharp, a little to hot. He was the devil.

But she…she must be Lillian because she could feel that alien warmth again. That fierce, almost desperate excitement. Exploding through her belly and down to her cunt, as papa called it.

He nipped her neck just then and his finger plunged dangerously deep even as his other finger played and flicked with her now sensitized clit.

Dismay, and then horror had Penny’s face paling when she felt the trickle of wet liquid running between her legs and over his fingers.

What the hell was that? Had she just peed on herself? Had her period started?

Shame and a kind of helpless self hatred had her slumping against the chest of the man whom held her. The pressure on her arm stretched tighter and tighter…almost to the breaking point until she was sobbing and struggling to find the strength to rise back up and relieve some the relentless pull on her shoulder blade.
In a move that spoke of more compassion than she’d expected from him at that moment he released her. She nearly stumbled back in surprise but found she still couldn’t move.

His finger was still inside of her and now he inserted a second. She felt herself clench tight around him and Richard groaned but kept moving, his fingers moving hard and fast inside of her now. Quicker and quicker, rotating at the knuckle and stroking her insides as if he were searching for something.

Her head fell back and she pushed at him, desperate and afraid and so hopelessly ashamed at the way her hips jerked, not away, but to meet him. The wetness between her legs only made it easier for him to do what he pleased and she wondered briefly if it would come again when her papa next put his hands on her.

“Please…please don’t. Please stop.”

“But why? You seem to be enjoying it so very much? And as I’ve always said the customer is always right.”

“What--what was the present?” Her voice was hoarse with the need to distract him, to make him pause, to stop. She felt as if she were losing her mind…or dying.

“Hm? Oh that?” he had been staring down at her breasts and now he glanced at her from beneath thick lashes and grinned happily. Then he stepped back. He didn’t release her however and with an alarmed cry Elly stumbled forward. His fingers were still curled inside of her so that as he walked backwards he dragged her with him like a puppy on a leash.

Elly’s heart was pounding so hard it heart and she was breathing in short panicked bursts. Her vision swam and she teetered dangerously. The movement cost her because with it his fingers plunged so far inside of her that her mouth fell open and tears filled her eyes at the feel of him.

“The police will find him in the morning.” he said pleasantly as he quickened his backward pace, staring at her face intently.

“Po-police?” he stopped moving and slipped his hands from between her legs. Unprepared and shaky Elly collapsed gasping to the desert floor on hands and knees.

“The police are such silly creatures. They’ll think you did it you know. They’ll think you cut him up like that.” She looked up in time to see his face twist with sheepishness. He ducked his head and licked his fingers clean, growling a bit in his throat in satisfaction.

“I got a bit out of hand. I’ll admit that. But he just made me so angry.”

She stared at him, speechless and so very cold.

“If you hurry home, maybe you’ll still be able to save that good for nothing brother of yours.”

“Micheal…” Her throat closed up. Her older brother Mikey hadn’t known about Papa and me…had he? Had he known and just done nothing?

Richard stared down at her for a split second and then his face twisted in rage. “That stupid fuck knew. He’s the one who told me you know, him and I being such good drinking buddies and all. He knew and he did nothing.” he turned his head and spit in disgust.

“But…Mikey…What did you do to them?”

“Go home. Go home and see the presents I left for you. One of them might even survive long enough for you to say goodbye.”

She got shakily to her feet, watching him warily as his words pounded through her head. Then she turned and fled, her arm hanging uselessly at her side and her back burning from the weight of his gaze.

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When she got home that night, papa was stapled to the living room wall. His body had been butchered, so that the cross shaped outline he’d been placed in was a hodgepodge of body bloody body parts. The once white carpet was stained black with blood.

The doctors and shrinks tell her that by the time the police had found her two days later (it took that long before people became worried about my family’s absence) She'd been incoherent and huddled in a ball inside her closet. They say that in their proffesional opinion I suffered from severe shock due to massive trauma.

In Elly's proffesional opinion it was a 'no shit doc' diagnosis.

She remembered what she saw as if they were clips from the reel of a movie. A horror that happened to someone else, in some other place.

She wasn’t able to save my brother. Maybe in some part of her mind as she'd raced through across the open desert she'd known he wouldn’t be alive.

But she had to check.

she had to be sure.

she had to know.

My brother had been sitting up on my bed, reclining against a mountain of pillows. He’d been naked and there were only bloody stumps where his hands and genitals should have been. His hands…his hands had been cut off and stapled across his eyes. In his mouth, tied in a bright pink bow, was his missing penis.

There had been a card attached to the bow and on the card was a cheeky little smiley face and the words ‘Happy Birthday Honey’ written in bold red print.