Razing Grace: Razing Grace Part 1 Read Online Free

pass by. Who will I be once this is all over? Will this ever be over? “You want it, don’t you, nun.” That wasn’t a question; that was him confirming his suspicions.
    My jaw clenches. “No. I’ll never want you.” My nipples may harden, my most private part may be enjoying having something pressed against it, but I won’t give them my pleasure. I refuse. They may taste my body, but I won’t let them feast on my soul.
    “We’ll see about that.” He watches me closely, his fingers finding the middle of my thighs instantly, and my back arches as his fingers invade me. My teeth snap down on my lower lip until it draws blood and it swells inside my mouth. “You feel that, nun?” he whispers. “That’s your body responding to me!” he declares. His thumb presses onto my nub, sending a jolt of electrifying pleasure rippling from between my thighs up towards my arms before exiting through my fingertips.
    “No!” I cry out, my chest heaving as the breaths I struggle to inhale pull through me. “You can’t have it.” I shake my head from left to right.
    His pressure intensifies as his circling becomes quicker in the hopes I let go. I won’t. I won’t do it. His other hand trails up my taut stomach towards my breasts as he pinches them roughly between his fingers again, setting off that similar sting on the very same nipple. A cry escapes my throat as tears trickle down my temple and run over my skull.
    “Just kill me, please.” He doesn’t. His circling continues before his finger invades me roughly with long, thick strokes. My walls pulse, clenching around his finger, and I cry out louder this time. “Please! No!” Why is my body feeling like this? Why? Why does something that should disgust me, because it does, have the opposite effect on my body? I feel betrayed, pure betrayal from my own self, and my tears intensify. He presses his body down over mine, his hand still working its same tricks on me as his hips thrust into mine roughly, following his hands movements.
    “Let go,” he orders. My head moves from side to side in thrashes as I attempt to shut out what is going on around me. The walls aren’t really concrete; they’re of the finest wallpaper. This floor? It isn’t cold hard cement; it’s of the finest plush carpet. It’s all a nightmare until I realize it isn’t. This nightmare is my reality. Bile rises up in my throat, leaving acidity in its wake.
    He’s not going to stop, not unless I pretend like it has worked. The need to release is there, but the feeling of disgust and violation is more prominent. My lips tremble as more tears flow down my face.
    My hand goes up to cup around my mouth as I let a guttural moan form my pretend release sound throughout the room. Fear zaps through me briefly. What if he finds out that I faked it? When his grip loosens from between my thighs, welcoming the cool air to brush over my center, I sigh inwardly at realizing I may have gotten away with it. I can’t let them have it. It’s what little part I have to hold onto and I will not be giving it away on a silver platter for anyone. The day I lose my willpower will be the day I lose myself.

MILLIE
    “Day 2”
    My night ended when I “came”. The red masked man had done his deed and evacuated the room. Last night, I curled myself up in a ball and cried myself to sleep. I cried for a part of the girl I lost that day. I cried that that was part of me I’d never get back, but finally, I cried because I knew I had five more days plus another to endure and I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to cope with it.
    My sleep was disrupted numerous times throughout the night. I swear I could hear voices whispering within these walls, but chalked it up to slowly losing my mind. I feared for what was going to happen once I finally did snap. I’d hoped I wouldn’t. I’d hoped I was strong enough to endure what else was going to be thrown at me, but I was wrong…so very wrong.
    My hair is now matted to my