Saint and a Sinner
Copyright© 2005 by Daniellekitten
Chapter 10
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 10 - Novel size story of a serial killer who terrorizes a small community and the detective and sheriff's deputy who hunt him.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic NonConsensual Rape Violence
The door creaked open and the switch was thrown. Light filled the underground room. Another soft click and the tape was stopped, the voices disappearing. The figure on the table blinked in surprise at the light and lack of noise, the quiet was more disturbing now than the voices. They had become friendly and familiar, even if the words were evil and bloody. The voices meant that she was alone and that no one would hurt her. She was safe with them. When they stopped was when she felt terror.
She no longer hurt. Her body had gotten to the point where the pain felt... right. The absence of pain would be strange now and absurdly unwelcome. Her feet and hands had turned black days ago from the circulation being cut off, she could no longer walk. Her body had been used in every way that her captor could possibly think of, horrible ways that would have been degrading and shameful if she still felt those things.
She no longer remembered what outside felt like, what the sun looked like. Those words were foreign to her now. Day and night were terms that were distant memories. She knew light or darkness, no shades of dusk or tints of dawn. She couldn't think of what the wind was or how it felt against her skin. The only air she got was the stale air that was thinly circulated by fans. Trees, flowers, animals, those things were gone to her, gone like her innocence. Gone like her belief of heaven because she survived in hell.
She wasn't concerned with her nudity any longer. Any femininity had been stripped of her, any beauty she had once possessed taken violently. She was skin and bones, breasts flattened by starvation and deprivation. She was glad for it, ugliness would mean lack of desire on the part of her captor.
She probably wouldn't be able to recognize her own face. She doubted anyone else would either. She had been beaten terribly, bones broken and never set, starting to heal in ways that were grotesque and disfiguring. She had only three whole teeth left in her mouth, the rest were either completely gone or broken, her lips shredded against the ruined, fractured stubs. Punishment and abuse were the constants in her life. That and terror.
Her body had been viciously torn by objects used to rape her in ways too horrible to remember. She had been sodomized so violently that she had been sick for days afterwards. Any defiance or will had long since been taken from her by means too foul to think of without completely losing what little was left of her mind.
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