Her knees were red and sore — the thin pale skin scraping against the deep crimson carpet.
Behind her back, tied in a double knot, her wrists were tightly bound to her shins, restricting the blood flow to the bare minimum. Her fingers and toes were cold and numb, their skin starting to turn blue, the fingernails sticking out like dead, withered thorns.
Her mascara had molten away a long while ago, and now thin black tears stained her cheeks like tiny rivers made of tar.
The slightest cut on her lower lip kept giving her a stingy sensation every time she dragged her mouth across the throbbing length of his penis, and she couldn’t help but stop for a moment to lick the pain away — only to have her face stricken by a harsh, big hand.
“Did I tell you to stop?” The cold, almost metallic voice echoed loud around the room.
She used all her strength not to fall to the floor, muttering a weak “I’m sorry”.
His other hand slapped her face even harder, deepening the cut on her lip, and striking her to the floor.
“Did I tell you to speak, bitch!?” His voice was even louder — and even colder.
He grabbed her by her hair and put her on her knees again, almost lifting her from the ground.
“Great! You’re bleeding now — and I don’t need your stinking slut blood on my dick.”
He then got hold of her neck and forced her head to the floor, lifing apart her legs and thrusting his penis deep inside her, almost breaking her bound tendons.
“That’s what you get for beeing a bad girl” He smirked, and thrusted deeper and more vigurously each time.
She screamed for help, and each time she screamed, he slapped her even harder.
When he was about to come, she couldn’t help herself and, with the faintest of voices, whispered “I love you” — but he heard; and having heard, he smiled and kissed her forehead.
“I love you too, babe…” He grabbed her neck and started strangling her. “I love you too.”