Chapter 6: Trapped in the Cycle

“Huh?” Jaime’s mind swam through a fog of confusion as consciousness clawed back, the darkness wrapping her like a suffocating shroud, unchanged from when sleep had claimed her. The jail cell faucet’s steady drip punctuated the void, a relentless heartbeat, and Reggie’s presence loomed behind her, his hand lifting her left leg with a predator’s ease.

“P-please ... what are you doing?” she stammered, disoriented, voice quivering in the black.

“Damn, you keep makin’ me hard, baby,” Reggie rasped, his husky growl cutting through the shadows. “Ain’t never got this hard this much with nobody else.”

Disgust surged through her, a bitter tide, laced with fear as his words pinned her to this nightmare. Trapped, stripped from Steve, cast into this foreign pit with a criminal—she silently raged at God, her faith a frayed thread against this abyss.

“What?” she gasped, incredulity splintering her tone. “You’ve already climaxed three times ... you can’t be hard again. I’m not trying to arouse you.” Her body trembled as he maneuvered her, pulling her sidelong against him, cradling her leg in his elbow, parting her thighs to claim her anew. She braced, dread a cold stone in her chest.

“Why are you doing this? I don’t want it ... please, no more...” Her plea was a whisper lost to the dark, a futile cry against the endless cycle of violation and exhaustion, each moment a taunt from the shadows.

Reggie’s slow conditioning coiled around her psyche, a puppetmaster’s strings bending her to obedience—echoes of his past, breaking whores into submission. “What time is it?” she asked, voice shaking, grasping for an anchor.

“‘Bout four, I reckon,” he replied, nonchalant as death. “Now grab my cock and put me in your pussy, baby.”

“No ... I won’t,” she snapped, defiance flaring despite the terror. “You’re not my husband. You disgust me. Leave me alone.”

His lust burned, an insatiable furnace stoked by control. His cock probed, a blind beast seeking her warmth, entitlement guiding its path. Revulsion crashed over her, a wave of nausea as her powerlessness crystallized—this was her reality now.

Without her aid, his shaft found its mark, parting her labia like an invader breaching sacred ground. Meant for Steve alone, her body now yielded to this foreign scourge, a grotesque usurper claiming her slickness. “No ... uh ... no more ... it’s too big,” she moaned, her mind a chorus of refusal drowned by the traitor’s welcome of her flesh. Slowly, deliberately, he filled her, then two sharp thrusts slamming her cervix, a jolt of pain ripping through her.

“Oof ... ow ... what are you doing? I wasn’t ready ... you’re hurting me!”

“That’s gentle punishment for not playin’ nice,” he growled, menace curling through his amusement, grip tightening like iron. “Maybe I should smack you good—remind you who’s boss. But I’ll give you one more shot. I’m pullin’ out, and you gon’ take my cock, guide it back in like you want it. We practicin’ ‘til you get it right.” His breath scorched her ear, a whispered threat. “You hear me, baby?”

Her breath snagged, hesitation a noose, until his brutal thrust drove the lesson home, pain blooming deep. The bed creaked, a mournful echo. “Oof ... yes! I understand,” she gasped, mind reeling.

His cock slid free, a slick serpent leaving her quaking, her walls clutching at its retreat until it slapped her thigh with a wet thud—an eel loosed from her depths, trailing their mingled filth. “Go on, baby. Take me nice, like I said, and put me back in,” he urged, voice thick with command.

“Oh, God ... why are you forcing me?” she cried, hand trembling as it closed around his warm, slick shaft. A gasp escaped as she guided him to her entrance, dread and guilt a vise on her soul. Her body, cursed, welcomed him, and she hated herself for it.

Reggie groaned, satisfied. “That’s better, baby. Let’s try again—stroke my cock when I pull out, massage your clit with it, then guide me back in.”