Truth of Dark Pasts by Serena Wood (win 10 ebook reader TXT) 📕

had gotten River here the same night I had been dragged into this hell. I remember vividly now what she had done the night she invaded my home. My head still aches from how hard she had hit me with that gun. Each day I wake up, it gets a bit worse and I fear that it’ll kill me if I don’t get to a doctor soon. But the head injury is the least of my worries at this point, each day Chloe inflicts a different wound on me and I know my body can only hold out so long.

The way she goes about it though is what stays in my thoughts when she’s gone and River isn’t on my mind. It's a rare occasion, but I do think about it sometimes. She’s never drawn any blood, never burnt me, never done anything that would leave a mark on my body. It’s like she doesn’t want me to have scars. There’s something symbolic behind her reasoning, I’ve just yet to figure it out.

Even if she doesn’t leave a mark, she still has an effect on every part of my body. Broken bones seem to be a favorite of hers, she’s broken each finger on my right hand, the one she hadn’t crushed with the weight; everything but the thumb has been snapped. She did them one at a time, most of them a day apart. But she quickly ran out of fingers to break and now she prefers to throw me down and set bricks on me until I feel like my chest is going to cave in. She’s only done that for two days but already it's taking a huge toll on my body. When she’s done with River, I know she’ll come down here and I dread what she’ll do.

Now that I think about River, I realize that the thumping has gotten louder and faster still. Now that I’m reminded of it, I find it hard to block out the noise again. But thankfully it doesn’t go on much longer. Chloe lets out a loud, breathy moan; signaling that I won’t have to hear it any longer. She spews a few cuss words before finally the noises slow enough to where I can’t hear them.

I try to shift my position against the wall, finding it painful to move much at all. Breathing even hurts now thanks to her new brick idea. I manage to huddle up in the corner that I’ve claimed as my resting spot. Gradually I start to hear them talking, their muffled voices just barely making it through the floorboards. They’re too muffled to hear, but the tones sound upset. They seem to argue for a minute or so before Chloe ends the conversation by shutting the door.

Soon her footsteps are coming down the steps and I shrink against the wall the closer she gets. She opens the door, switching the small light on as she enters. She shuts the door before turning to glare at me. She’s silent for at least two minutes before she lets out a growl, picks up that wooden slab she used to break my arm, and throws it at the wall. It makes impact right next to me, splintering instantly and the base pops loose. I shrink closer to the corner of the wall, trying so desperately to just hide away from her.

“I don’t understand.” she says at last. I don’t offer a reply, she hasn’t given me water since yesterday morning and already my throat is too dry to really try to speak. I’ve given up on speaking days ago anyways. I only speak when she specifically orders me to.

“I’ve been trying so hard, but still you’re ruining things. You’re completely battered and defeated and yet you still get in the way.” She growls again, moving to hover over me. She gives me one swift kick in the ribs before kneeling down infront of me.

“I’m convinced you’re some kind of witch. She still doesn’t remember how much she loved me and I know it’s all your doing.” I remain silent, trying to cower away from her like a small animal. She continues once she realizes I’m behaving the way she wants. “Even when we make love, she won’t kiss me. She still thinks she belongs to you.”

Hearing her talk about that hurts almost as much as having to hear the act itself. She hasn’t brought it up until now, but I knew she would eventually use it against me. She’s been finding ways to hurt me mentally lately.

She cracks a small smile at my expression. “I bet you miss that, don’t you? How does it feel knowing I’m taking her body back?” I let the pain show on my face, knowing it’s the only answer she needs from me. She chuckles lightly at my pain, murmuring a quiet, “Good.”

Gradually her expression changes as she thinks it over and instantly I know she’s coming up with another plan to hurt me.

“Do you remember what she tastes like?” she leans in closer, daring me to speak. I try not to answer, knowing that my natural instinct to speak out could end up hurting me more than what she originally has planned.

“Go on, I know what you did. You took her from me, body and all. Don’t try to act like you didn’t. Answer me. Do you remember what she tastes like?” now that I know I’m being ordered to reply, I try to plan it out carefully. If I say yes, she’ll surely be mad at that, but if I say no she’ll hit me for lying.

Slowly I nod my head and it seems to be the right answer. A sinister smirk appears on her lips. She moves from her crouching position to rest on her knees and suddenly she’s reaching her hand inside her yoga pants. I try not to focus on her as she does it, knowing she’ll probably strike me for the littlest of things. She pulls her hand back out after a minute and scoots closer to me, offering the hand to me. She pushes it to my mouth until I can feel the wetness touch my lips. Repulsed by it, I move my head away before I can stop myself and she slaps me; as I knew she would. “Do it.” is the only order she has to give me before I reluctantly open my mouth.

She forces her fingers inside of my mouth, making sure that I taste it. “Can you taste her?” she pulls her hand away from my mouth and again I nod slowly. She smiles, clearly pleased by my answer and I hold back the urge to let out a sigh of relief.

“Get up.” I try to obey the small order. But she stabbed into the sides of my ankles with the hunting knife days ago to make sure I couldn’t walk far if I ever got out, shortly after, cauterizing it with the same knife and a lighter. Now that I think of it, it’s the only time she’s ever done that; the only scars I’ll have if I live through this.

When I try to stagger to my feet she drags me away from the wall and tosses me down onto the blanket that she was kind enough to give me as a bed. “You know what, you wanted to take her from me so bad…” She pulls her pants down, dragging a pink thong down with them. I try to move away, dreading what she has in mind more than anything she’s ever done to me before. “... Then you can lick her off of me.” she finishes the statement, moving to hover over my face. I stare up at her, praying that she won’t really make me go through with it.

“Please, don’t make me…”

“Do it.” She cuts me off with that hissing order and yanks on my hair until my face comes in contact with her skin. After a moment of hesitation, I do as she says; knowing there’s no other choice. For a minute I lick in a steady rhythm until my already hurting lungs demand that I stop for air.

As soon as I pull away, she yanks on my hair again; pulling me back to her. “I didn’t say you could stop to breathe.” I’m forced to go back to my actions. A few minutes go by and I try not to complain, until my lungs start to burn. Breathing through my nose seems to give me little air partly because it’s pressed up against her skin and partly because my lungs have been taking damage for the past two days.

After a few more minutes, she pinches my nose with her fingers. “You don’t deserve to breathe, you’ve done nothing but ruin things. Now you’re going to take back what you’ve done.” she pushes herself closer and I try to double my efforts; hoping that if I make her cum, she’ll let me breathe.

She starts to shake as soon as I start trying harder and before I can process anything, she presses herself even closer. It gets to the point where it starts to hurt but I don’t try to pull away, she definitely wouldn’t let me breathe then. Her shallow breathing turns into moaning and much like I do when this happens upstairs, I try to block out the noises; keeping myself busy by doubling my efforts yet again. She lets out a sharp moan when I do so, pushing against me and I let out a groan of pain as my head hits the cold floor of the basement. Much to my relief, it isn’t enough to do anything more than bring back my headaches.

Suddenly her whole body leans forward, her moans picking up in volume and in an effort to get it over with, I try to move my tongue faster. She cums without much of a warning, letting go of my nose and I accept the action gratefully; inhaling as much air as I can manage. Her orgasm thankfully doesn’t last half as long as it does when she’s with River and she gets off of me as soon as it’s over. I take in a few short breaths, thanking god that I can breathe again; even if it hurts twice as much now to do so.

She pulls her yoga pants back on and leaves the room. For a second, I start to think that she’s going to leave me alone for the day. But I’m not that lucky and she comes back a minute later with my dog bowls in her hand. She sets down the bowls before moving to help me get in a better position and instantly I start to worry about the kind gesture, she usually leaves me to fend for myself. She dumps a can of cat food in one bowl before speaking.

“I suppose you’ve earned your rations for the day.” she mutters and I know by now what she expects from me. “T-thank you.” I move to hover over the bowl, making sure to not eat until she’s filled the other bowl with water. She doesn’t say anything and I look up at her worriedly. For once her expression isn’t cold, it almost looks caring, compassionate. As if she might regret what she’s doing. “Go ahead, I’ll be back in a few hours.” She grumbles after a minute and at that I move to eat out of the dog bowl. When she stands she leaves the room without stepping on my back or pushing my head into the food. She leaves without hurting me and that mixed with how she helped me up makes me start to fear that her small acts of kindness is some kind of sign something is going to backfire in my face.