Brick, Mortar, and Bruises

Chapter 6

Time passed. First days, then a week, then more, and every night Raduz came into her room. Every night she lay waiting on her bed as instructed. Every night she endured a new variation of the same ordeal, sobbing under her boss as he shoved his penis into her, grunting in pleasure. The darkness that had always been her friend in faithfully bringing His hands on her skin, was now her tormentor in bringing his.

His hands crept on her body, reaching everywhere. His arms closed around her so tight that it hurt, coiling and twisting like storybook vines, holding her down, squeezing her 'til she couldn't move or breathe, choking her breathless and wordless. She would panic but he wouldn't let go -- not before he had taken what he came for. Not before his cock would push against her flesh, force her open, make her bleed all over again. Thrusting. Spreading. Tearing. Vile.

Each night, when Raduz finally rose from atop her shuddering body, she tried in vain to imagine Him leaving the room. If she could convince herself that it had been Him who had been fucking her night after night after night, it wouldn't be real and she wouldn't feel so disgusting, worthless and dirty. But the power of imagination wasn't enough to make the gaping feeling in her pussy or ass disappear, not enough to disassociate Raduz from the constant oozing at her crotch.

Each night he took out his anger and bitterness on her until she was too destroyed to utter even a single word. Then, afterwards, after all the pain, his edge would wear off, his voice soften and he would fuck her cramping body slowly, slowly, murmuring to her his sick, gentle poison, that he'd take care of her, protect her, cherish her. His hands would stroke her hair softly and caress her face. His wet, raggedly whispering mouth would press against her neck or temple and she would believe that he meant the words that flowed out. She would believe that he was gentle and caring. She would believe, because she needed to, although she knew well enough that he'd be back to hurt her with those same hands as soon as his anger would rise again. He'd be back because he needed the comfort of making her suffer. She'd figured out as much.

The sex, if rape can be so named, felt so completely alien to Anni that she could hardly believe the difference. Every sensation she was used to enjoying hurt. The sensations she usually hardly noticed hurt. Every single thing hurt now that she wasn't aroused, prepared and waiting. The stretching on her labia, the strain on her perineum, the chafing on her entrance, the spreading of her sheath, the friction inside, and the pommeling of her back wall. Never before had she noticed the supposedly distinct swollen head of a partner's cock inside her as opposed to the rest of the shaft, but now she felt the ridge of Raduz's glans raking against her tender flesh, spreading her insides even wider than his shaft.

A pussy was meant to settle snugly around a penis but there was no settling now - she wasn't given the chance. Raduz's assaults were so repulsive to her that she was as stiff on the inside as she was on the outside. In the kind of sex Raduz used her for, the penis was punching her cunt to bruises for her body refused to adapt in order to accept the invader. Had her flesh yielded, the rapes wouldn't have hurt so much but that wasn't a choice. There were no such words in the world that could have made her instincts shut down.

For Raduz it was just as well. He enjoyed feeling her shock on his cock, for it told him all he needed to know about the effects of his visits. Unknowingly, Anni repeated one after the other all the same pleas Masha had made on their last meeting thus driving him, even after twenty years, to higher ecstasy.

"You told them I raped you, you lying, little cunt. Well, I'm raping you now," he growled at Anni in Czech and tried his best to stab her deep and make her cramp from pain. "You made a whore out of yourself, Masha," he spat, "so shut up and do your job!"

This hated whore that Raduz saw in every woman was his first and last love.

Once upon a time he'd been a handsome youth serving his stint in the military. It was common knowledge in the garrison that the colonel had engaged his beautiful daughter to a well-off captain on a path to promotions. Less well known was that poor Marina dreaded her future, sharing a marriage bed with a man she barely knew and certainly didn't love. As her last chance at happiness, she'd decided to make the best of her last summer of freedom, and chose Raduz as the poor sod she threw herself at.

Marina was blazing, lovely and determined - impossible to refuse. The two spent a summer full of affection, meeting in secret on a forest clearing behind the garrison. She was frail, and their first time was hard on her. She wailed in pain as he stretched her virgin entrance and tore through her hymen. He feared that she didn't much enjoy her first time, yet she was too headstrong to ask him to stop. When he rolled from atop her, the sight of her own blood shocked her, but Raduz had come prepared and tore his old undershirt into strands for her to tuck into her panties.

Every week was at the same time more intimate and more dismal, for autumn drew nearer and so did her wedding day. Besotted as he was, Raduz asked Masha to marry him instead, but to his astonishment she laughed at him.

"You expect me to live in some shabby apartment with your mother and grandmother and brothers and sisters?" She shook her head and continued more seriously. "Forgive me, Radek, darling, but I will never be poor. Not even for love. Please understand."

Her coldness wounded him, but he adored her and believed honestly that with time she would choose their love over a comfortable yet empty life. Sadly he was too naïve to see her true nature.

With several months' worth of built-up hatred and sexual energy, Raduz visited Anni every night with unbridled zeal. And as it always did from the first night on, in a surging, golden rush strength and vigor returned to him, and the part of his soul he wanted gone started obediently to shrink once more as he revelled in his power over the girl and in one more victory over Masha, one more victory over the broken creature lying in his own filth that he himself had been reduced to all those years ago. Throwing himself with a will into rape, revenge and destruction, he sought to burn away what he did not want to remember.

Every night, after her boss had satisfied his need, Anni was forbidden to wash herself. He made her lie dirty in her bed with his slime on her and inside of her so she couldn't rid her mind of the rapes even for a single moment. Sometimes he'd come to her again in the morning for yet another cunt inspection, and, after a prolonged, thorough and thoroughly humiliating session of prodding and probing, forbid her to wash her cunt even then.

She would then carry the stickiness and the musty latex paint smell of his rape with her the whole day until he came into her room in the night to do it all over again. Usually in the ass, so she'd have his cum itching in both her holes.

"Soak it all up, little whore," he snarled and jeered. "I'll send you to my friends swelling with a bastard."

Anni wanted to scream, to run, to die. Her despair had no limits as she knew that without contraception she'd get pregnant sooner or later, trapped as she was in his domain. She was constantly terrified of conceiving, yet still she never voluntarily offered Raduz her ass to minimize the risks for she was even more terrified of the agony that his brutal usage of her back passage always brought. For one, he never gave her a long enough rest to heal the nicks and cuts on her asshole. Also, what was much, much worse than the stretching of her hole, were the sensations of tearing, gut-wrenching agony deep inside of her and the violent cramps that made her whole body seize up uncontrollably. Sometimes he would start gently but only a few minutes into reaming her he got lost in his own lust and Anni would have no hope of stopping the frenzied torture before she could make him cum.

On most days she felt that her anal opening was no more than an open wound, yet every stab of pain was a notch off her guilt and thus in a perverse way something to be thankful for.

Rape for a rape, she kept telling herself. How many times had the brutes cummed inside her friend? How many times had they flipped her filthy, bleeding body over and started raping her all over again? How much more of this hell did Anni still have to live through to be freed from the nightmares in which the scene of Riikka's rape kept replaying in her head, over and over and over. Riikka struggling in the grip of god knows how many men. A close-up of the first man's cock thrusting into her. Her face, eyes bulging in shock and pain, her jaw straining to get out a scream from under the hand clamped on her mouth to stifle any cry of help she might try to voice. Then the pounding, the ruthless, vicious pounding that made Riikka's body jolt in the grip of the men holding her down and spreading her open for the assault. The blurry male shapes kept changing on top of her, each and every one wanting a ride. And another. And a third. Each blurry shape laughing at Anni with His taunting voice.

Chapter 7

The girls that had went before had barely been able to handle him raping them, Raduz thought, but Anni was different. She proved more resilient than he had estimated and more able to come to terms with him assuming absolute power over her. The other girls hadn't been able to take on even a fraction of the full weight of his hate but Anni just might. With her he'd been able to delve deeper into his hatred and vengeance than with anyone before, and so he kept thinking up new ways to torment and dominate her. He pushed her to the edge night after night, and come morning she still looked sane and stable enough to send out with the others to work on the site.

As a result, his fantasies grew darker and more cruel, and every night of pain and humiliation, after which she still hauled herself on her feet in the morning, cost her more pain and further degradation on the night to come. With perpetual arousal and anticipation gnawing at him, it didn't take long for Raduz to lose the battle of wills with himself; soon he couldn't keep himself away from her during the daytime either, and came up with ways to extend the pain, domination and anguish to her every waking moment under the very noses of the rest of the crew.

A toy that didn't break was an exhilarating novelty, and it was rather a shock, when drinking his coffee in the canteen one morning, Raduz realized that he felt happy; he'd forgotten that such a feeling existed. He glanced over his breakfast tray at Anni's direction. The girl was picking at her food and he made a mental note to order her to eat properly. No fun bumping against a bony arse, he thought, and smiled at the memory of the previous night's bumping.

The girl looked tired and worn, maybe a little glum, but from the way she looked no one could have guessed that she had a healthy dose of cum and half a cup of lemon juice sealed inside her swollen rectum with a purple butt plug, or that under her jacket and blouse there were clamps on her nipples and rows of sharp push pins digging into the soft, heavy flesh of her breasts. During the weekend Raduz had glued push pins to the insides of the cups of each and every bra Anni had brought with her. Raduz could hardly sit still as he thought of all the opportunities he would get in the course of the day to secretly grope her lovely breasts harshly through her clothes and watch her gasp and squirm.

Pain and humiliation Anni was able to take without going mad, but mind games, he'd noticed, affected her much more severely. She had descended into a world Raduz had never seen another woman slide into. It took but a few kind words and she was lost - truly, truly lost. So weakened were the tethers of her lucidity that the slightest influence made her doubt her own mind, for Raduz could make his whispers sound so much more convincing than the drowning cries of her own confused mind. Sometimes in the night, when he had used her hard and she was really out of it, she looked at him with a loving smile, as if finding by her side the most cherished of friends. Then, slowly, reality returned to her, her eyes refocused and the sight of his face looming over her filled her gaze once more with fear.

Anni on the other hand had come to learn that it was one thing to shed tears for fear or uncomplicated physical pain and quite another to shed them for such forlorn inner wretchedness only Raduz could subject his victim to.

The daily abuse made hours grow longer and in a matter of weeks she'd come to feel as if this was the only life she'd ever known. Raduz was everywhere. Raduz was everything. Raduz controlled everything. She wasn't a 'her' anymore, she was simply his. Forced each night to take his cock, his anger and his abuse, she was losing herself as her mind was nearing its breaking point. She wasn't getting enough sleep and the way Raduz stroked her head and spoke to her gently while raping her messed badly with her psyche. He knew her triggers and there were times when her muted moans were of pleasure. Parts of her consciousness were shutting down, trying to protect her from the nightmare her life had become. Parts of her were responding to the combination of Raduz's gentle caresses and ceaseless domination, causing his carefully constructed conditioning to kick in. Hurting was caring. To own was to protect.

Yet every moment of punishment helped her forget a tiny bit of her guilt and her nightmares about Him and Riikka grew more infrequent. At least she'd been able to make amends and ease her conscience, but the price was her body, her sanity and, if Raduz got her pregnant, her future.

Eventually, even though his touch made her weep, when Raduz slid his hand down to her sweaty crotch, he didn't have to reach inside to find what he was looking for. When his fingers stroked her petals he found them slick with her juices and just a light touch was enough to release a slippery, welcoming bath all over his probing fingers. The reaction stemmed from self-preservation rather than pleasure but the facts didn't matter when one was eager to misinterpret and the other too ashamed to be rational.

Watching her sob Raduz was pleased that Anni still wept, for in the forced silence of their nights her tears were his reward. Still, sooner or later the girls always died inside and stopped crying. For that reason alone it was a good thing that the commissions lasted for twelve weeks, so that after breaking one girl, he'd get his hands on another eager volunteer soon enough. And in time Anni, as those before her, would be signed up for a few dozen more commissions under the watchful eyes of his friends - men who could appreciate convenience, men who were always ready to take off his hands a young set of holes that didn't fight back.

During the days Anni tried to avoid her boss as much as she could, but he was always around, watching her. The rest of the crew mistook her depression for homesickness, for she'd grown reclusive and they couldn't come up with a better explanation to why all she did was sleep. After work she crashed on her bed and tried to make up for the night's hours. If there were activities planned, she skipped them and became more and more isolated from the rest of the group. Since she stubbornly refused to talk about it -- and because her behavior was making everyone uncomfortable - the crew mostly left her to herself.

When one of the men attempted one last time to approach her, and asked with sincere concern what was really going on with her, Raduz called her to the camper van that served as his on-site office and punished her, hard. Unaware of their significance, he quoted the words of her shadow companion, telling her that she was his and his alone. A disturbing emotion flickered in Anni's heart when for a minute she felt the familiar tug of His possessiveness.

No one came close to guessing the truth since, even though Raduz wasn't one for easy smiles, he was in good terms with everyone. Respected and admired. None but Anni knew what a monster he really was, for the rapes weren't his only tool of degradation and torture. Not even close.

He liked to grate her cunt raw with a rough stick before raping her. And as if that wasn't enough, he then coated his hand with salt, lemon juice, chilli paste, cayenne pepper or rubbing alcohol -- anything that would burn and sting in her wounds -- and rubbed the stuff in, stretching her inner walls, making her feel as if he was fucking her with a branding iron. When her vagina tried desperately to flush out the poisons, he was waiting with cruel words.

"Listen to that squishing, kurva. You're really loving this, aren't you? Say 'yes,' just give me a nod, a simple little nod." And when she obeyed in fear of further punishment, he crooned, "There you go. Good girl likes to be used hard."

Twice, when he was feeling especially vicious, he did the same to her ass and Anni was scared to death of a third time. She hadn't known anything could hurt so bad, first the brutal tearing with the stick, and then the burning, the awful, unbelievable agony of the burning.

She started to fear that by the time she could return home, she'd need extensive (and extensively humiliating) medical treatment to fix all the damage. She begged for mercy, blurting out to him in shock that he was destroying her for good, but mercy or pity were not a part of his vocabulary. As long as she was still tight, he found ways to amuse himself.

He forced her to keep things inside her: large, sharp and bulgy metal clips from his desk drawer; inflatable sex toys he pumped up until she could barely walk from the pain; twigs and pinecones that stabbed her from the inside as she worked; wide and scratchy bits of wood he whittled himself to maximum effect; smooth, heavy stones Raduz painted with texts like 'I take it up the ass!' that forced her to struggle and clamp onto them ceaselessly to prevent them from dropping from her vagina and down the leg of her trousers to humiliate her in front of everyone; thick, cruel anal plugs to seal in his enemas of semen, lemon juice and spiced oil; smaller everyday plugs that reminded her not to go to the toilet without begging for his leave; thick pastes made from hot spices and potent essential oils that he dabbed on her clit or sealed inside her cunt with plugs made of scrunched up foam; medicine capsules he had emptied and refilled, that melted under her tongue during the day to release a deposit of cum he'd scooped from her vagina after raping her -- there wasn't a minute in the day he wasn't in some way throbbing inside her.

She learned what it was to be so thoroughly owned that if she saw him close his fist in the distance, she felt the grab as if she was two inches tall and trapped inside that hand. He only needed to look at her to make her feel a cruel grip on her crotch, breasts and throat, squeezing until she panicked.

Her cunt had been forced to accommodate his large, hard fist time and again and every time he was as thrilled to see her desperate attempts not to scream when her tender flesh was crushed between his knuckles and the narrow gap in her pelvic bone. He had rubbed his stubbled cheek against her clit like sand paper until pricks of blood appeared. He had ended nights of humiliation by pissing on her body, on her face, and in her hair, and when that wasn't enough to amuse him anymore, he started pissing into her mouth. He'd made her expel his enemas while he watched. He'd taken photos of her with objects jutting obscenely out of her. On some days he stuffed a scratchy, sharp-edged plastic syringe in her cunt and arse every couple of hours to inject her with searing, burning, liquids and pastes. Come night her asshole and rectum would be nicely swollen tight for him to rape, and he could take it easy for once as even the tiniest of movements would be enough to send Anni soaring into a nightmare of pain.