Hurt Shoulders (Broken Shoulders Pt. 02a)

I know I howled out, loudly -- very loudly. Dave continued to thrust as he managed several more pumps into me, all the time biting my tits several times.

How did I feel about him biting my tits so hard. I should have hated it. But no, you know me too well. You know damn well I fucking loved it. I came so hard that my legs were twitching and my back arched. My mind bubbled in ecstasy and my breathing was fast and hollow.

When he finished Dave rolled on his back and declared that to be the best fuck he'd had in a long while. I gasped with incredulity, and I think he took it to be a gasp of pleasure -- he looked over at me and just said "I knew all along you were just a dirty fucking worthless whore."

Now, just a small point of order. I realise that when describing that event in part 2 -- I left a lot of detail out. Part 2 was about having sex with my son, and I really didn't want to cloud the matter further with these revelations. But now you know.

From that night on, the relationship lurched from one stumbling block to the next. And quite frankly I was ready to call it quits. We met a couple of times in town, but we were just going round in circles, discussing and then disagreeing about what we wanted from the relationship.

Finally, I made my decision that it was over and that that I would move on -- and as such, foolishly I came off the pill. It gave me terrible mood swings anyway, and I really didn't like some of the other side effects. Then, one day at the coffee shop, I told Dave it was over. He didn't take it so well, and I could see the rage and anger in his eyes. But this was why I had asked to meet in the coffee house, there was little he could do. We went our separate ways and I didn't hear from him for a while.

Life continued as normal. Then one weekend -- a few weeks later, I'd arranged for my sister to have Ben because I had to take a trip into the office on the Saturday, to sort something out. SO on the Friday night, I was sat watching TV when the doorbell rang. I really wasn't expecting visitors and wondered if maybe something had happened to Ben. I opened the door, and just froze -- my mouth hitting the floor in a proverbial clunk.

Dave stood there -- grinning like a Cheshire cat and holding some flowers and a rucksack. I asked him what he wanted, and he replied that he felt we hadn't fully discussed splitting up properly. Alarm bells should have rung there and then, but I didn't fully realise the danger I was in until much later. I should have told him to leave there and then, but damn me if I didn't.

I stood there, barring his way and I asked him about the rucksack and what was in it. Dave just laughed and almost barged past me into the lounge. The stupid thing was I really didn't think much to it.

Dave kept his backpack close to him, as we sat down. I again asked him what he wanted, and he said he wanted to apologise and set the record straight once and for all. His demeanour was calm and conciliatory and so I figured I could at least listen.

I sorted some wine, and we began to talk. At first it was all light and casual, he asked about Ben and who was looking after him. Asked how he was doing at school.

We had barely had a chance to talk about 'us' when I said I'd go get another bottle of wine and Dave said he'd go and use the toilet. I saw his backpack and something about it bothered me, so I waited until he was half way up the stairs and then opened the backpack.

I don't know what I expected to find, to be honest. Clothes I suppose, maybe he was hoping I'd ask him to stop over. I thought maybe it might contain even a laptop or a camera or something. What I did find, turned my blood to ice. Duct tape, a torch, ropes, tie-wraps, a mask. And then, right at the bottom -- a knife. It was one of those hunting knives with a blade at least 6 inches long. There were some other items in there that I didn't get a chance to see because as I heard a noise behind me, I turned then felt a thud on my head and it all went dark.

When I woke, my head was pounding -- but that was, of course, the least of my problems. I was tied, ankles and wrists to the corner of the bed. I wasn't naked -- which surprised me. I pulled on the restraints and of course they held tight.

"Go ahead, struggle bitch. You know how much I enjoy it more when you fight it." Snarled Dave.

I asked him what he was doing, why he was doing this to me -- I told him there was no need. We could have just talked about it downstairs. Dave laughed scornfully. He told me it was clear to him that I was never going to agree to having the sort of sex he wanted. He said he was fed up of apologising and that this time he was just going to take what he wanted.

I got frightened then. I had seen the level of anger and hints of the violence that Dave was capable of and I dreaded what he had in store for me. Dave stood there, staring down on me in the way a Tiger would survey its prey just before pouncing. The look he had on his face chilled me to the bone, and then he took out his knife and I just froze.

I know I should have screamed and hollered -- but who would have heard me? I really felt my only chance was to talk him down from his anger and rage. I begged him to just untie me and I would let him be a bit rough with me. It was a stupid thing to say, but I just figured that rough sex was better than rape -- because that was literally what it was going to be.

Dave laughed scornfully once more. "You stupid fucking worthless slut. You still don't get it do you?" he snarled.

I watched in horror as he picked up the knife then got on the bed and straddled me -- his knees either side of my body. I knew I was shaking with fear, finally realising what this guy was capable of. My eyes felt like they were going to pop as I watched him use the knife and slice my blouse open. I must have gasped with fear, and Dave laughed in response -- slicing my bra open in one harsh and brutal tug of the knife.

I screamed then, loudly and as high pitched as I could. I yanked on the ropes, twisting and turning my body in a vain hope that the ropes might snap or give way. I continued to yell at him, asking why he was doing this, what did he want and begging him to please untie me. Dave ignored me.

"Ah those fucking tits. The ones you like me to bite." He sneered once more.

Damn how I was regretting that I'd asked him to do that. It had given the wrong impression and now I was paying for it. I was now tugging desperately at the restraints, and could feel the rope start to burn on my skin. I kicked my legs and tried to bring my knees up, in a vain attempt to maybe get him to topple off me. It was all a waste of effort of course. Dave had me exactly where he wanted me. Finally, as my breath began to labour -- I stopped my bucking.

"Maybe you'd like me to bite them again." he scoffed, before adding "Or maybe you'd like a little something more."

The anger and disdain dripped from his voice like vitriol and I wondered what he meant. I didn't have long to wait. He held the knife blade up to my breasts and began pressing. I could feel the pressure of the blade and I was so scared that he was going to slice me open.

"Just a little nick." He teased, and then with a flick of his wrist I felt a hot searing pain on my breast. I screamed out in pain, as my pain receptors sent waves of pain messages to my head. My mind whirled, still trying to figure out how to get myself out of this situation. I continued to scream loudly as the pain coursed through to my brain. I twisted and tugged once more, screaming for help and asking him to please stop.

"Please ... Dave ...don't ... don't do this." I wailed hysterically. Because I guess by now, deep down I knew what he was going to do to me. He was going to rape me.

Dave laughed - a crazy, almost maniacal laugh, as he cut me open. I prepared myself for what was coming next, without really knowing what it would be. Again, I begged him to untie me, to stop all this and talk. I asked him what he wanted and that maybe there was another way beside this.

Dave responded by unhooking my skirt, and removing it. Then he slid the blade of the knife under my pantie hemline and I held my breath. I genuinely didn't know what he was going to do and I feared the worst. I felt the cold blade press on my clit and I shivered -- no not in excitement this time, but in genuine fear. After what he had done on my breast, I really wasn't sure he wouldn't cut me again down there.

I felt a tug on my panties and then the material gave way as the knife sliced through it, then using his hand -- he ripped it off. I screamed again, trying to voice my fear. Again I asked him why he was doing this, and that was when he told me something that scared me to the core.

Dave snarled at me and "Because I enjoyed it the first 2 times." He replied.

I had thought he meant the first 2 times with me, how wrong I was.

"You dumb fucking slut, you think you're the first woman I've raped?" he hissed.

I glared at him, totally dumbfounded and incredulous. Dave went on to tell me that he had raped 2 women, including one a few streets away. I remembered it on the news, and I remembered how scared I was and how careful I had been walking home for weeks afterwards.

It all came flooding back to me, the fear and anxiety. The worry and the concern that I had felt when that rape had been reported on TV. Blind panic set off in my mind, I was feeling so terribly vulnerable and alone. I was helpless and completely exposed to the danger that was now right in front of me. I began to cry, not sure of what would now befall me.

I felt a sudden whack on my face, and my cheek began to sting. Dave had slapped me, and was holding his hand up to do so again.

"Please no, don't hurt me." I pleaded, the tears now rolling down my sore cheek.

Dave's face turned to a snarl "It's what worthless fucking sluts like you enjoy." He added triumphantly. "You're pure fucking rape meat -- you know that right?" he hissed.

My mind reeled, it wasn't true. Done as part of a loving bond -- rough sex can be a huge pleasure for both parties. But there were always limits and boundaries and these should not be crossed. But I knew, in my situation -- Dave didn't care about my limits, about my boundaries. And his were -- well, off the scale by the look of things.

"Don't tell me you don't enjoy the pain, you fucking useless slut. Because I know you do. I wouldn't be surprised if you weren't fucking dripping wet already." He sneered once more.

I knew I wasn't. Back then, my cunt didn't leak at the drop of a hat as it does these days. I was finding the whole situation humiliating and shameful, and I was in abject fear. Getting turned on was not even on the gamut of things that I was feeling.

Dave crawled his way up until, still on his knees. He placed his knees either side of my head, his legs now pinning my arms down. Slowly, just inches from my face -- he unzipped himself and took his cock out. He was already semi hard, and I watched in horror as his cock grew in front of me. This bastard was really getting off on all this.

"Now listen bitch." He snarled, holding the knife up to my neck. "You're going to suck my cock and if I so much as feel a tooth on my cock, I'll slice your neck -- you understand?"

There was no denying the threat in his voice, and I shivered. I remembered that one of the women raped previously had fought really hard and had been badly beaten for her efforts. I wondered if she had tried to use her teeth on his cock. One thing I knew for sure, I wasn't going to risk it. I could see the hate in his eyes, and I knew he'd only need half a reason to hurt me.

I nodded without saying a word, but then as he tried to put his cock in -- I clenched my teeth and moved my head side to side, trying to dissuade him. I don't know why I did that, perhaps a small token of resistance. Dave slapped me hard on the face again, and yelled.

"Open your whoring mouth you fucking worthless slut."

I screamed again, loudly -- pulling at the ropes with renewed fear and panic. I called for help, screamed at Dave and pleaded for him to stop. There was a whack, and I felt a hot stinging on my cheek where Dave had slapped me.

"Open your whoring mouth." He repeated

Reluctantly, I opened my mouth and his cock slipped in. As I've said previously -- he wasn't the most well endowed and I'd not struggled with his size previously. The difference this time was that he was not being so gentle or so slow. He forced it in, all the way then told me to close my lips around it and keep them around it. I prepared myself for the throat fucking that I knew was coming, and began trying to breathe through my nose.

To begin with, it wasn't too bad. My breathing was regular and his thrusts were not causing me too much trouble. Until, he grabbed my head and pushed his cock right in, I mean pulling my head right into his stomach until my nose was now squashed and I couldn't breathe. I felt my lungs begin to burn, my face flushed, I was gaging profusely and I felt like I was about to pass out. He must have held me there for a good 30 seconds and when he let go, I just took several huge gasps of air as my mind reeled. I retched and spat out a load of saliva and sputum. I had deliberately kept my tongue out of the way of his cock. I knew I couldn't stop him fucking my mouth, but I also knew I could keep my tongue out of the way, to lessen his enjoyment somewhat.

"Fuck yeah. I knew a whore like you could take it all the fucking way." He hollered, before adding "Let's see if you're fucking nasty snatch is wet now."

I still wasn't and he grunted his disappointment as he ran his hand over my cunt and found it completely dry. None of this was turning me on, and that was frustrating him. When my breathing returned, I immediately began bucking and kicking again, pulling on the restraints in the hope they might give way.

"You fucking whore, don't tell me you're not enjoying this. It's what fucking dirty sluts like you deserve. You're all worthless fuckholes. Just useless cum buckets for men to drop their cum on. And you, you're the worst of them. Pretending you don't like it, when in fact you fucking love just being taken my a dominant man." He yelled, getting off the bed.

Suddenly, he slapped my breast and it stung. He grabbed my nipples and twisted them violently, pulling them out and stretching them mercilessly. I howled in pain, begged him to stop. I pleaded for him not to hurt me. Tears again began rolling down my cheeks, my eyes blurred and tearful.

I screamed once more, pleaded for help. Pleaded for him to stop, to let me go. I begged him not to hurt me, as I turned and twisted pulling so hard on the ropes that they were now grazing my wrists and feet. I wasn't sure what hurt more, my wrists or my tits.

"You're a fucking worthless cock sleeve. What are you?" he yelled.

I didn't answer. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of humiliating me all the more. A part of me knew this would incur retribution and I tried to prepare myself for what it was. When it came, it was swift, decisive and painful.

Dropping the knife onto my nipple, he dug the sharp tip of the knife right into my swollen nipple and twisted it. I screamed in agony, it was intense and so painful. I screamed again, begging him to stop. Pleading with him not to hurt me, and again imploring him to untie me. I knew he wouldn't of course. And I knew there was no help coming. Nobody would hear my screams. But I had to try, I knew I had to. I had to struggle and fight, I had to fight for my life because I truly didn't know what Dave's plan for me was.

My brain was in a fog, fear and terror surrounded my every thought. I honestly wondered if I would see my son again. Dave looked at me, his face full of evil and his mouth turned up in a snarl.

"You're a fucking worthless cock sleeve. What are you?" he repeated. "We both know what you are don't we? You're just useless rape meat."

There was conceit and an arrogance in his voice. And he reminded me of what I had told him about my past. He ridiculed me on how I had behaved and how I had deserved what had happened to me. He told me I deserved all this, told me that it was all I was good for, that I was just an useless cock sucking whore. He berated me for the fact that hadn't stopped him in the hotel and declared that that just proved what a desperate fucking slut I was.

Part of what he said resonated with me, but again -- for legal reasons I can't say what. But it was true, prior to meeting Dave, I had felt a little down and depressed. I had felt somewhat worthless and my self-esteem was on the ground. I had little confidence in myself, and I felt insignificant -- other than as a mother bringing up a toddler. I had all sorts of self-doubt -- about my own self worth and about my abilities. The men in my life, up to that point had all been losers and somewhat controlling. They had worn away at my self-respect and my dignity.

I wanted to shout and scream, to deny what he was saying. But damn me if a part of me didn't just pop up from the deepest darkest parts of my mind and suggested he may be right. Immediately I screamed inwardly at myself that it wasn't true, that I wasn't that sort of person. I tried to tell myself I was decent, respectful person. But the thought wouldn't go away, just kept gnawing at my self-worth all the more.

"What are you?" screamed Dave once more -- this time holding the blade of the knife close to my bleeding tit.

I knew I wouldn't be able to withstand pain like that again, and I feared what else he would do to hurt me. A voice in my head whispered that I should just say what he wanted me to say, that that would be my best hope of surviving this. And it was probably true. Giving Dave what he wanted seemed the best way out of this, except -- I really didn't know (or rather, Understand) what it was he really wanted from me. 'Just say it' whispered the voice, and so reluctantly I said it. Well, I whispered it and of course, Dave wasn't happy with that.

"Louder" he yelled. "I want the whole fucking street to know just what a worthless whore you are."

Again I hesitated, only until he held the knife to my nipple once more. I knew I couldn't take that much pain again. Blood was now flowing from my nipple and from the cut he had made earlier. Both stung like hell, and both brought me to tears of agony.

I cried out, "I'm a fucking worthless cock sleeve." I snarled, allowing some of my own anger and frustration to come out. Even as I screamed it, I was desperately telling myself that it wasn't true. I was pleading with myself not to believe it.

Dave nodded and chuckled to himself, finding something funny. From out of his backpack he pulled out a 'wand'. Back then, I'd never heard of a 'wand' let alone used one. I do remember looking at it and thinking it was a very strange shaped dildo. I didn't know what it was for, or how fucking great a job it did -- but I was about to find out.

"Right, listen to me you worthless slut." Dave commanded. "Whatever I say you are, you repeat it back. You got me? You refuse or fucking hesitate, and I'll slice your fucking nipples off completely."

Dave's voice dripped with menace and intimidation and left me in no doubt at all, that he would go through with his threat. My mind shook at the thought of what he would make me say -- but they were just words, I told myself. Tried to comfort myself that they didn't mean anything that, they weren't true.

Dave took the wand and plugged it in, that was an eye opener for a start. All my dildos previously had been battery operated or otherwise just plastic shafts. It was the first time I'd seen what I presumed was a sex toy that required a mains plug -- and in all honestly, I was having palpitations. I was shaking with fear and trepidation, I suppose as much due to the unknown as anything else.