'Shut up, Lana!' he said menacingly.
'I'll scream, I swear!' I said, anger registering in my own voice.
'If you scream, I'll tell Daddy about Mother. I don't care about anything anymore, not after today. I never knew what a slut you had become. You're a filthy little bitch, and I'm going to use your body like the common whore you are,' he threatened.
'Lonnie, listen to me, nothing has changed. I still want to spend the rest of my life with you. Daddy did what I needed him to do. But it's all finished row. He'll go back to Mai, and we'll have each other. Please don't spoil everything,' I explained, trying to make him understand.
'Understand me, Lana; after I fuck the shit out of you, I never want to see you again. I don't want to see any of you again. This whole house disgusts me. All everybody has done is use me: first for their own selfish needs, and then for murder. I'm getting out of here, but first, I'm going to give you yours,' he responded with finality.
I continued trying to plead with him, but he wasn't listening. Tears of frustration and hurt were rolling down my cheeks. I knew he was telling the truth about blowing the whistle on our murder conspiracy. And the realization that I was the one responsible for putting him in this terrible state filled me with an emptiness that I knew would never go away. I frantically searched my mind for some argument that might sway him to reason. But there was none I could find, leaving me no alternative but to comply with his horrible demand.
I allowed my body to relax. Lonnie, aware that there was no longer any fight in me, forced his knee between my legs and pushed it hard against my crotch. The pain lashed through my body like a bolt of electricity, causing me to cry out.
'Make any more noise, and I'll cover your face with a pillow!' Lonnie threatened.
While his knee continued to friction against my ravaged cunt, his hands began attacking my breasts. It felt like claws ripping at my sensitive nipples. When I arched my back after a particularly brutal assault on my tits, he replaced his knee with the angry tool of his demented desire.
None of his vicious foreplay did anything in awakening a sexual response from my body. My tender pussy was completely dry, and my asshole was puckered with fear. But I knew my condition was not going to stop him. I tried in vain to conjure up some sexual vision in my head that would start my juices flowing, allowing a less-painful entry into my wounded cunt-canal. Unfortunately, the physical and mental hurt that I was experiencing acted like a door, locking out everything but my hopeless present condition.
Soon, his mouth replaced his hands on my chest, and he began biting my already-sore tit-flesh. Meanwhile, his hands were in my crotch, pulling apart my pussy lips. The shock when his cock touched my inner self almost forced another scream from my lips. Luckily, I was able to catch it before it reverberated through the sleeping house. Lonnie, unaware how close I came to sounding the alarm, continued to stab away, trying to find the entrance to my body. Each of his thrusts was bringing me closer to sweet unconsciousness. But there would be no relief.
Finally finding my elusive hole, Lonnie gave a mighty shove, and plunged to the depths of my being. For a moment, I thought that the lights had come on, but it was only the devastating pain flashing on the inside of my brain. Lonnie gave me no time to recover. As soon as he was buried to the hilt, he began an unmerciful screwing. His cock would almost leave me before driving again to my center. Over and over again, he stroked. I could remember wondering why he was feeling no pain as he frictioned against my raw, dry surface. Unfortunately for me, it didn't seem to matter to him.
I prayed that he would come. My vagina felt like it was on fire, not from desire, but from the pain caused by his unholy intruder. Never before had I known him to last so long. It was like being fucked by a jackhammer that was never going to stop. Ten minutes, fifteen minutes, it was impossible to tell how long he held out. I began to think that this was my hell, that I was forever doomed to this never-ending agony.
Finally, with one last horrendous plunge, driving my head solidly into the headboard of the bed, he came, spurting his cream against the bruised walls of my cunt. I hoped that it would have some cooling effect on my fevered internal flesh, but it felt hot, and did nothing for me.
For many minutes, he rested quietly on top of me. When his breathing began to return to normal, I realized he was crying. I wanted to somehow comfort him, but the terrible hurt that I was experiencing held back any of my efforts at sympathy. All I could do was cry softly along with him.
EPILOGUE
I don't remember him leaving. I don't know if I passed out from the pain or the terrible emotional exhaustion, but when I opened my eyes, he was gone. I could feel his essence slowly running from my injured cunt, and I thought the wetness on the pillow might have been his tears.
I never saw him again.
My physical wounds eventually healed. The wounds of my mind have not. The guilt has become a part of me, never allowing me to feel or give the magic of love. Images of my mother, lying broken in the street, constantly invade every night's sleep. The final night with Lonnie has blown out the light of my body's desire. The pleasures I have given and received have become only the chapters that have led to this shriveled, unhappy ending.
Mai and my father have begun their own life. They have tried to help me, but the fear that I might somehow spoil their love forced me to reject all of their unselfish attempts. In the end, I drove them away, too. At least they have a shot at finding the happiness that, I know, will never be mine.
