Deus Ex Machina Ch. 05: Suffering

Author's Note: Suffering continues the story of Shea, who was introduced in Ch. 03 of the Deus Ex Machina chain.

"You're late!"

Shea ducked reflexively when the accusation was hurled her way, but it didn't seem to be one of those days. James was simply standing there, both hands on the doorframe, waiting for her explanation while blocking her way into their apartment. He was still in uniform, Shea noticed at once. His face looked strained and downright menacing in the shadows the dull lightbulb out in the hallway was responsible for.

"I'm sorry," she replied cautiously, licking her lips nervously. "I've had... things to do."

"What things?" His eyes narrowed, his voice dangerously quiet. "This doesn't have to do with your sister again, does it?"

"I just talked to someone who knew her," she defended herself, and he sighed, shifting his body to finally let her in.

"When will you learn to leave this alone, Shea?" he asked her as she slipped past him. When she didn't answer, he followed her into the kitchen, where she set down her coat and stepped out of her shoes, feeling nauseous. She knew that she would not be able to escape his questioning, much as she wanted to. She just wasn't sure how much more of his pressing her she could take. The girl she had talked to today about Anna had offered bits of information that she hadn't quite stomached yet, and on top of that, she was still shaken from the encounter in the alley the other day. The mysterious stranger who had scared her so had left a lasting impression on her, one that she wasn't able to simply shake off.

"I can't just walk away." Shea looked up to meet James' inquiring gaze, jaw set. "I cannot walk away from this, and you know it."

He grabbed her wrists and pulled her suddenly close to him.

"Anna's dead, Shea, she's dead. Rotting in the ground. There isn't a thing you can do about it." He shook her hard, as if trying to get any notion of justice being dispensed to leave her mind with brute force. "You're going to get yourself killed if you keep up your little investigation."

"I wouldn't have to do this if you wouldn't refuse to help me!" Shea knew that it was a mistake to bring up the old argument again, but she couldn't help herself. James glared at her for a few seconds, then he let her go with a slight shove. Shea rubbed her bruised wrists while he turned, running a hand through his dirty blond hair.

"You know damn well that I've tried to find out what I could. And I've told you I'm going to risk my job if I dig deeper."

Shea let out a breath of air she hadn't realized she'd been holding, and swallowed despite the bitter taste in her mouth. "Some cop you are."

She had finally pushed him too far. She could see the expression of his face change and took a breath in dreadful anticipation. Instead of an outbreak of rage, however, he simply reached for the handcuffs clipped to his belt.

"Get to bed, Shea," he said, sounding resigned.

She followed his order without protest, even though her body shook at the mere thought of what he would force her to endure tonight. She had already pushed her luck, and she knew he would only hurt her worse the more she struggled.

The majority of her clothes on the floor, she knelt on the bed, hands outstretched. He was behind her in a moment, his breath hot on her neck as he cuffed her to the bed frame. She let it happen, motionless except for a shudder that she couldn't suppress. She was naked now except for her panties, flimsy white and ready to be torn off her body. He preferred it this way. She watched him from the corner of her eye as he pulled his belt out of the loops on his pants in one fluid motion, and steeled herself.

The first few strokes simply stung, bringing tears to her eyes. The fourth one made her cry out despite herself, and starting at the sixth one, she lowered her head to the pillow so she could scream into it, desperate to somehow relieve the pain of her burning ass. Her entire body started to shake uncontrollably at stroke nine, and it remained that way all the way until stroke twenty. After that, he stopped.

James moved away from her and replaced his belt, while she was crying uncontrollably into the pillow. He left her that way for a few minutes, giving her some time to calm down. He released one of her hands from the cuffs, but kept the other one chained to the bed frame so she wouldn't be able to move very far. When he sat back down on the bed, she tensed.

"Spread," he commanded.

Shea moved her knees apart and reached back with her free hand, moving her panties aside and spreading the lips of her pussy for him. She was still sobbing, but trying to control herself. James got pissed off very quickly if he thought she was trying to make him feel sorry for her.

"Finger yourself."

His voice was icy cold when he gave this next command, and Shea shuddered involuntarily as she pushed one of her fingers inside her dry pussy, quickly adding another when she felt the sting of his nightstick hitting her ass. It wasn't hard, just a warning, but she knew she'd have to please him more so he wouldn't beat her in earnest. She needed to be able to go to work tomorrow. Her body shook in pain and exhaustion as she pushed the two fingers as far as they would go, then withdrew them, settling into a rhythm.

"Your ass now."

Shea sobbed anew as she moved her hand up further, pushing the two fingers into her sphincter. There wasn't much lubrication, and she had to clench her teeth as she continued to push. She knew that James would be furious if she stopped, so she ignored the sharp stinging and friction until both fingers were buried. She gave herself time to take a single breath, then started to finger-fuck her own ass. It didn't hurt any less now, and she groaned into the pillow in pain.

"Nice job, my little bitch," James sighed appreciatively behind her. "Tell me what you are."

"A whore," Shea sobbed, her lips trembling. She hated this ritual of his, and she knew he enjoyed it infinitely more just because he knew how much she hated and dreaded it.

"Whose whore?"

"Yours," she whispered, but caught her error before he could hit her again and repeated it louder. "Yours!"

"Tell me again."

"I'm your filthy little whore."

Her fingers were still busy fucking her asshole. The friction was killing her, but she didn't dare slow down. She was relieved for a moment when James shoved her hand aside, but then she groaned in subdued panic when she felt the cool tip of his nightstick pressing into her instead.

"And what do I do with my filthy little whore?"

Shea barely managed to answer, her breath short when the stick pushed and rubbed against her already sore flesh.

"You... you fuck her in the ass," she finally said. Then she screamed into the pillow once more, as the stick was roughly shoved up her ass, and she could feel something tear inside her. It hurt so badly she moved away from the stick reflexively, not able to control her movement. The nightstick was torn back out of her roughly, and Shea closed her eyes just before two hard blows struck the sore globes of her ass.

"Don't you fucking move!" James screamed, pulling her hair. Shea's head flew backwards, and all she could do was moan when the tip of the nightstick was forced in between her lips. She gagged when she first tasted her own ass, then struggled as the stick went further, hitting the back of her throat. James kept it there for much too long, and Shea's tears were once more flowing down her cheeks by the time he finally pulled away. Shea could see that his pants were undone and his erect cock was pointing towards her – he'd probably stroked himself while watching her finger her ass.

"Now," James said, stepping closer. "Open that filthy mouth and suck me off."

Shea complied, only to choke again when James started to fuck her mouth. He was rough, as always, and he didn't care if she could breathe or how deeply his cock was rammed into her throat. He moaned appreciatively and one of his hands stroked her hair, his hips pushing and pulling steadily.

"That's a good girl," he grunted. "That's a good little whore. It's really a shame your sister died before I could fuck the two of you together."

Shea squeezed her eyes shut, trying to shut out his voice. This, when he was on his way to orgasm, was always the worst part.

"Did you ever lick your sister's asshole, Shea? I would have made you do that... push your tongue right in there to pleasure her, right into that cute, tiny little asshole. I would have put my dick in her cunt, and then made you lick it clean, and then I would have made you kiss her so she could taste herself."

Shea choked and gagged, disgusted with the words that were coming out of his mouth. He knew exactly how to hurt her, and he was doing an excellent job at it. He didn't care if the pain was physical or mental, he got off on hurting her.

"I would have raped your sister's ass while you'd be licking her cunt... have you ever done that, at least, Shea? Have you ever licked and fingered Anna's cunt? Cause it's a shame if you haven't... I'm sure lots of other girls have."

He groaned again, close now. Shea's lips were sore and swollen from his repeated assault on her mouth. She prayed he would be done soon and let her go to bed. She needed to escape from him, from the world, and sleep provided a temporary escape, at least.

"I wonder how many dicks Anna sucked in her lifetime, Shea. Do you know? I'm sure she was much better at it than you are, little whore, she just had that look about her that screamed of a good cocksucker. Her lips were always so puffy, like she'd had a guy shoot his load in her throat just minutes ago. I wanted to jerk off into that cute little face of hers, Shea. Shoot my cum all over her hair and into her eyes. It's not as fun when I do it to you, you know. You've always been a close second compared to your sister. She would have sucked me off so much better than you ever could!"

James breath came in short bursts by the end of his little speech, and Shea closed her eyes in relief when she felt his cum fill her mouth spurt by spurt. Finally, it was over. She swallowed obediently, intent not to do anything that would piss him off again. He pulled out of her, wiping his cock on her hair and cheek, then re-buttoned his pants and left the room. Shea heard the sound of the TV in the other room a moment later, and she collapsed, gratefully. Her hand was still cuffed to the bed, and she knew he probably wouldn't release her until the next morning, but she could sleep even in this awkward position. And the welcome escape of her dreams was something she needed more than anything right now.