Unknown Omega

Chapter 9 - Her- Unknown

His question cuts deeper than any physical assault ever could. Even more than my parents' abandonment. Everything I've suffered overtakes me.

Unbidden, unstoppable sobs wrench from my chest. Soul shattering sorrow breaches the demanded bliss of a few seconds before.

The senseless torture, the stealing of my innocence, the forced pleasure, all of it grinds into my soul, just as the sand rubs agony into my injuries.

I shatter. The hole my parents left splinters and infects every ounce of my insides. The wretched penetration of my womanhood infuses disgust into every pore. This stranger's domination shreds every bit of my self-worth.

My body becomes useless—nothing but a broken shell, housing an unworthy bundle of misery.

With nothing to hold my pieces together, I begin to sink into the depths of the dunes. I prepare to slink away into the pit of no return.

It would be so nice to just give up. To not hurt anymore. To not care anymore. To float away and never return.

As though from a distance, I feel my body in the throes of outburst, my breathing erratic and my voice hoarse with sobs.

But that glorious mental detachment entices me. I edge closer, prepared to slink into blackness, ready to find nothingness.

A vague yet familiar vibration halts my descent. Warmth spreads around me, ending my passage onward. His will demands my existence, and my soul wails in distress. In the same unrelenting manner he forced me to orgasm, he denies me freedom. He stops me from descending into madness with his rumbling.

I feel the reverberations in each slice of my destroyed self.

His purr gathers my jagged pieces. Some meld, but few fit together.

I rest in a mist of comfort, an experience that is too far removed from my life to be real. Mini waves of noise cocoon me in paradise—the closest thing to heaven I've ever felt. More stillness than I imagined was possible.

The cool allure of the abyss seems inadequate compared to the warmth wrapping around me now.

But the pain of my body intrudes. The blisters on my hands and arms burn, the open wounds on my back stab misery through me, my face feels shriveled and scorched, my lungs burn, and my channel feels torn. His saliva still wets my pussy, and the sensation feels alien and wrong.

The comforting noise stops, replaced by a low warning rumble. With his manipulative reverberations gone, my conscious snaps back into my body. Recent events barge into my haven.

Oblivion was so close. I could have sunk away and been free of this travesty of a life.

But he stopped me. He forced me to stay. Just like how his tongue demanded my orgasm, his noise forced his will upon me. I don't want this pain. I don't want to submit to him.

If I was shattered before, now I'm an ugly mass of hatred. Anger engorges my pieces, so that fitting isn't necessary. Each molecule collides as heated loathing balloons bigger.

A strange sensation begins in my chest cavity. It's foreign and new, but the rightness of it permeates through my being. It strengthens, and with an odd satisfaction, I realize I am growling.

It's his fault I must face what's happened—his fault I must endure this agony.

I hate him.