up as tight as they would go while he pumped in and out of me like a piston. The sweat beaded up on him and dripped off his face and ran down my legs. He licked that up too, and that was what broke me.
I cried out loudly, not saying anything in particular – I was just wailing out. My screams excited him, and he began to manhandle my breasts so roughly I thought they’d be torn from me. Every squeeze made me holler out, and every holler made him punch into me deeper and harder. I couldn’t lie still anymore – I clawed at his hands to pry them off of me. He removed them from my breasts, but only so he could wrap his tree-like arms around my legs for leverage.
My eyes widened in terror as I struggled to take in air. I was powerless against Caesar as he pounded me harder and harder. From above, I watched my body begin to grow slack. Right before I passed out, he quickened his stroke to thrust into me a few more times before he tensed up, gritted his teeth together, and then fell to the side in a satiated heap.
Nearly-freezing water splashed over me, shocking and jolting me out of my slumber. Vivian stood over me with an empty bucket and a scowl on her face.
“Get up, Number 10,” Vivian barked at me. It took me a moment to even realize where I was or what’d happened. It all came flooding back, and I scooted back to the corner of my stall and cowered in a ball, looking around frantically with my chin resting on my bent knees.
“Go on down to the pond and clean yourself up. You’ve already lost an hour, and your quota for today is the same as it was yesterday.” Vivian tossed a small, white cloth and a dress into the stall before she turned her back and walked away.
I saw several hay needles caked together with blood near the gate of the stall. A red trail led from the pile straight to where I was sitting, and another puddle was forming under me. I gingerly touched my anus and pulled back a sticky, blood-coated hand. The blood smeared on my cheek as I wiped away a tear.
“Go on, Number 10,” someone whispered. I looked up and saw that Number 9 was peeking over the divider between our two stalls. She looked down at me with sorrowful eyes and reached her arm over, offering her assistance in helping me stand. I grabbed her hand and she pulled as hard as she could until I was in a kneeling position. I released my grip on her, planted my hands on the ground, and carefully stood up. On shaky legs, I walked over to where she was and held her hand again for a few seconds. She understood my unspoken thanks and mouthed ‘you’re welcome.’
It took me a long time to get to the water’s edge. The water was cold, and I dipped my cloth in it and gently patted my torn opening. It took nearly an hour before the towel came back free of blood. I pulled my dress on and turned to leave. I had just made it to the top of the slope when I heard a familiar rustling sound coming from the cane field. I knew it had to be him, and in a moment of both insanity and clarity I went to him.
By the time I made it close enough to reach out and touch the stalks, his arm was jutting out with his hand opened and waiting. I didn’t hesitate to place my hand in his, and his fingers wrapped around mine and pulled me into the field. I let him pull me through the towering crops with my eyes cast down to the ground. We walked slowly, one step at a time, for a few dozen yards before we stepped out into a clearing.
Upon looking at the ground, I saw that the stalks had been pulled up from the spot completely. Three or four blankets were stacked up neatly to one side, and he spread out all but one of them to make a pallet. The last one, he folded up to fashion into a cushion for me before pulling me down to the ground with him. I wasn’t at all afraid or uneasy, so when he covered me with the other blanket and wrapped his arms around me, I just melted into him and cried. I made such
I cried out loudly, not saying anything in particular – I was just wailing out. My screams excited him, and he began to manhandle my breasts so roughly I thought they’d be torn from me. Every squeeze made me holler out, and every holler made him punch into me deeper and harder. I couldn’t lie still anymore – I clawed at his hands to pry them off of me. He removed them from my breasts, but only so he could wrap his tree-like arms around my legs for leverage.
My eyes widened in terror as I struggled to take in air. I was powerless against Caesar as he pounded me harder and harder. From above, I watched my body begin to grow slack. Right before I passed out, he quickened his stroke to thrust into me a few more times before he tensed up, gritted his teeth together, and then fell to the side in a satiated heap.
Nearly-freezing water splashed over me, shocking and jolting me out of my slumber. Vivian stood over me with an empty bucket and a scowl on her face.
“Get up, Number 10,” Vivian barked at me. It took me a moment to even realize where I was or what’d happened. It all came flooding back, and I scooted back to the corner of my stall and cowered in a ball, looking around frantically with my chin resting on my bent knees.
“Go on down to the pond and clean yourself up. You’ve already lost an hour, and your quota for today is the same as it was yesterday.” Vivian tossed a small, white cloth and a dress into the stall before she turned her back and walked away.
I saw several hay needles caked together with blood near the gate of the stall. A red trail led from the pile straight to where I was sitting, and another puddle was forming under me. I gingerly touched my anus and pulled back a sticky, blood-coated hand. The blood smeared on my cheek as I wiped away a tear.
“Go on, Number 10,” someone whispered. I looked up and saw that Number 9 was peeking over the divider between our two stalls. She looked down at me with sorrowful eyes and reached her arm over, offering her assistance in helping me stand. I grabbed her hand and she pulled as hard as she could until I was in a kneeling position. I released my grip on her, planted my hands on the ground, and carefully stood up. On shaky legs, I walked over to where she was and held her hand again for a few seconds. She understood my unspoken thanks and mouthed ‘you’re welcome.’
It took me a long time to get to the water’s edge. The water was cold, and I dipped my cloth in it and gently patted my torn opening. It took nearly an hour before the towel came back free of blood. I pulled my dress on and turned to leave. I had just made it to the top of the slope when I heard a familiar rustling sound coming from the cane field. I knew it had to be him, and in a moment of both insanity and clarity I went to him.
By the time I made it close enough to reach out and touch the stalks, his arm was jutting out with his hand opened and waiting. I didn’t hesitate to place my hand in his, and his fingers wrapped around mine and pulled me into the field. I let him pull me through the towering crops with my eyes cast down to the ground. We walked slowly, one step at a time, for a few dozen yards before we stepped out into a clearing.
Upon looking at the ground, I saw that the stalks had been pulled up from the spot completely. Three or four blankets were stacked up neatly to one side, and he spread out all but one of them to make a pallet. The last one, he folded up to fashion into a cushion for me before pulling me down to the ground with him. I wasn’t at all afraid or uneasy, so when he covered me with the other blanket and wrapped his arms around me, I just melted into him and cried. I made such
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