"TEARS OF DECEIT" by Sarah Ryniker

STORY LAST UPDATED ON 09/04/2003

Tears of Deceit Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Epilogue

CHAPTER SIX: BRUTALITY

After getting the feeling that Allen was watching my every move, I began to watch my back closely. And sure enough, it seemed that everywhere I turned he wasn't far behind, unless he was working. He didn't seem to want to hide it, either. He would sometimes just blatantly stare at me. If Kassy noticed, she didn't say, though I had a feeling she knew of her husband's attraction to me.
    Their room wasn't far from mine. The whole house was three storeys high, and my bedroom was directly above theirs. I had to pass their room to get to the first floor. Allen wasn't usually there, and often I would check in on Kassy in the middle of the night. I didn't want her to have an episode, which she hadn't since I'd arrived here, or go wandering off.
    I was doing just that one night. I slipped downstairs quietly, not wanting to wake Kassy, or Allen should he be home. I walked up to the door, and opened it just enough to peek in. What I saw wasn't shocking because they were married; people made the honest mistake of walking in on a married couple all of the time. It was what I heard that made me feel sick and upset.
    He hovered over Kassy, who appeared to be just lying there. Maybe she was even crying, not wanting to participate. I was just turning to leave when I heard my name. I was afraid that he had seen or heard me and was calling me back, but then I heard Kassy answer to my name.
    That's when I realised that he was making her "role play" as me. He was fantasising about me with his very own wife. And she went with it, wanting only to please him and get it over with. I ran back up the stairs, scared and crying. It seemed that Allen had a sick obsession with me. And that was more frightening than anything else.
    I lay for an hour in my bed, thinking about what I should do. Finally, making the decision to leave, I rose from the bed and began packing. I didn't care if I had to call a taxicab. I was determined to leave that night. I couldn't stay here another minute. I seemed to be doing more harm than good to my sister. Not that her life was exactly a fairytale.
    But my plans would soon change quickly, and not by my own choice. As I folded a shirt and placed it into my suitcase, I heard my door open. I knew who it was before I turned around to see him standing there.
    Allen stood in my doorway, his naked body glistening in the light of the small table lamp that I had on. It was very dim light, but I could see every inch of his body. I blushed and turned away, not wanting to see him. And I certainly didn't want to think about why he was standing in my room naked.
    But thoughts shot through my mind at lightening speed when I heard the click of the door shutting and locking. I felt trapped. I couldn't breathe. I wanted to claw at the walls and scream for help. But that would all be pointless. Nobody would even be able to hear me, and the one person that possibly could wouldn't come to my rescue.
    So I remained calm, trying to get rid of the images of Allen having sex, and then Allen being over my own body in just the same way. I swallowed hard, trying desperately to keep my cool. Maybe there was a possible way out of it. Maybe I could fool him, or even hurt him in some way.
    "Don't think about making any moves, Felicity," he said, and was behind me before I could even think about doing so. He brushed my hair off to one side, and kissed my neck. "You know, it was always you I wanted. You were always the prettier, sexier one. Even at the age of twelve. Now here you are, almost sixteen. That is proper time to become a woman, don't you think?"
    The tears stung my eyes and slid down my cheeks. There was no way of hiding what I felt. I was petrified. I knew what was about to happen. And I was unable to stop it. My body wasn't reacting this time, however. All of me was dead against having him touch me.
    "Leave me alone." My voice came out hoarse and scratchy. "Just go away. I don't want you to touch me like this! You belong to my sister!"
    "If I didn't, would things be different, Felicity?" he whispered in my ear. "I think they would. I think you would have already given yourself to me. I see you staring from time to time."
    "They wouldn't be any different. I only stare at you because you're staring at me, and it gives me the willies." There was no way in hell I could have even acted remotely brave. I knew I was trembling in fear.
    "Well, I think differently, and I have every intention of proving that to you right this minute!" Suddenly, my feet were up off the floor, and I was tossed across the bed, my feet and legs hanging off the side.
    I didn't fight as he lay upon me. My nightgown was pulled up around my waist, and my legs were yanked roughly apart. I cried silently as he pushed himself into me over and over again. How degrading it all was. How could anyone enjoy sex? Thoughts and questions were going through my head, but nothing was spoken. The only sounds in the room were that of him moaning and grunting above me, calling out my name in pleasure that he felt and I didn't.
    When he was finished, he smiled at me. "Thanks," he said, and left the room. I felt just like a whore on the streets. Only I wasn't getting paid.
    I didn't bother to wash the blood off of me. I didn't even take the sheets off the bed. I simply curled up into a ball, and fell asleep. I decided on leaving in the morning. Right now my body felt too drained and used.

When morning came, I scrubbed my body until welts appeared on my skin, especially between my thighs. I didn't feel clean, but I removed myself from the shower before I severely hurt or scarred myself. Not that it would matter. I was already hurt and scarred in places that could never be fixed.
    I had every intention of leaving that morning. I packed everything that I had brought with me, and took it down both flights of stairs. It was about me now, not Kassy. She would have to go on without me. I had to put me before her for once in my life. I wasn't about to be stupid in this case.
    But Allen had other plans in mind. The driver refused to take me home, and the butler took my suitcases back up to my room. Neither said a word to me, other than a "no, we were given orders to not let you leave."
    I was also not allowed to use the telephone. The one that had been in my bedroom was disconnected, and there were maids paid to watch me. I was suddenly trapped. I felt like a mouse to his cat. I was his prey, and he was letting me know that I was not in control of this situation.
    There wasn't anything in the world that I hated more than feeling out of control. I hated feeling as if somebody had control over my life and my destiny. And Allen was suddenly my captor. I would have no say about my life from here on out. I would do as he said, or pay consequences I had never thought to pay in my life.
    I found this out that very night he came home from work. I was waiting on the steps of the giant staircase that lay gracefully in the foyer of the house. I planned on demanding to leave, even if my heart knew that it would be a futile fight.
    He came in the house, messing with the cuffs of his three-piece suit, something that he often did when he was satisfied with himself. To see him doing it made me want to slap him. But I wanted to do more than slap him, already. I wanted to tie him down and chop off any part of him that made him male, specifically his penis.
    He stopped, and grinned when he saw me. "Hi, honey, I'm home." He laughed as if he had said the funniest thing.
    I simply glared. "I want to go home. I still have my things packed and ready. Let me leave right now!" I demanded, standing up.
    He continued smiling as he made his way toward me. With every footfall he came closer to me, and that made my heart pound with the panic that was swelling up inside of me. I almost turned and ran.
    When he reached me, he gripped my chin between his thumb and forefinger. "You will not leave until I tell you that you can."
    It was the end of the entire conversation. He passed me, not allowing another word. I followed up the stairs and passed him to go to my bedroom. I already realised that I would not leave until he told me that I could. What was the use in fighting for it? I felt the defeat all the way down into my bones.
    I stayed in my room all day. I was positive that Kassy would be looking for me, or asking about me. But I didn't care. I was depressed and frightened. I felt like the child that I really was deep down inside. It was the part of me that had been hidden under years of maturity and responsibility. But now it was rearing its head, making me realise just how small and weak I was.
    I was half-asleep when I heard him come in. I curled up into a tighter ball in the bed, wishing him away. I felt his hands before he even put them on me. Without a word, he had me on my back and was groping my small breasts with his large hands.
    "Please, go away, Allen. I am already so sore from what you did to me last night," I cried. I was all for begging by now, hoping that he would be even slightly sympathetic for me.
    "Oh, was I not gentle enough?" His voice was degrading, making me feel stupid for even attempting it. "Well, I'll make sure it's nice and slow tonight."
    I fought that night. I clawed and bit and screamed at him. Finally, he grew angry with me, and slapped me across the face. "I'll show you what happens when bitches don't obey me!" he screamed, and left the room.
    He had looked so furious I feared what was about to happen. He came back in, just as angry as he had left. His face was red with anger, but he was still aroused. I noticed that and the whip in his hand.
    Without another word of threat, the whip came down onto my skin with a loud thwack! I whimpered and cried as he whipped me over and over again. But it only seemed to keep him aroused. I had my eyes closed, but peeked out to see him actually masturbating as he whipped me. I shut my eyes tighter, and really began to cry. Finally, he finished, and put the whip down at his side.
    "That will teach you to disobey me!" he bellowed. He left my room, still as naked as he had arrived. I felt embarrassed and dirty, and I was in so much pain that I was unable to move.
    I think that was the first night I truly realised what it meant to be a prisoner. I had no free will. He had taken that, along with the very essence of who I was. Any shred of innocence I'd had left growing up, he had taken from me the night before. And this night he had taken away any dignity I had managed to keep hold of from that experience.
    I cried for about two hours, and then I forced myself out of the bed. I walked crunched up to the bathroom, where I ran a bath. The bloodied wounds were already starting to scab over, and I had dried blood all over my body, especially my arms and hips.
    The warm water was somewhat of a comfort, and it eased some of the pain. As I washed myself up, I noticed how deeply some of the cuts were embedded into my skin. I was certain that I was scarred for life.
    I almost thought about calling out to one of the maids who was paid to watch me for help with some of the wounds. Some were in places that were much too sensitive to scrub the blood from. I cried and grimaced as I forced myself to clean up. It had to be done, or else they would get severely infected.
    It took an hour before I got out of the bath. Even my lightweight silk nightgown felt as if it was setting fire to my skin. I slept restlessly that night, tossing and turning and crying out in agony. I had never been in so much pain in my life. Not even Susie had been that cruel.
    The next few weeks I dealt with cautiously. I never knew how Allen would act. I didn't want to be whipped again, but sometimes if he was in a bad mood he would do it just to pleasure himself. It was disgusting, and it caused me enough pain to scream and cry the entire time.
    It only took one month of missing my period to know that I was pregnant. I guess I expected it to happen. And even though Allen was a monster of a man, I didn't want to hurt the innocent child growing within me. I promised to do whatever I could to protect it from Allen's cruelty.
    To be sure that I was, however, I sneaked into Kassy's bathroom one night and found one of her extra pregnancy tests. I took it, and wasn't surprised when it was positive. Just as I was about to sneak back out of the bathroom, though, I heard the bedroom door shut.
    Allen was home, and he was in the room. There was no way out, and I heard his footsteps coming towards the bathroom. He walked in and saw me standing there, frozen, with the test in my hand. He took it from me, and saw that it was positive. His anger was greater than that I'd ever seen in him. "What is this? You're pregnant! Why didn't you tell me? Did you want to hide my own child from me?"
    I cringed as he grabbed me by the hair. Kassy wasn't in the room, so he openly dragged me out through the bedroom and up to my own. He tossed me on the bed, and grabbed his whip.
    I had thought that the other whippings had been agonising. But this one was to be the worst. He wasn't pleasuring himself this time. He simply lashed continuously into my body. I wanted to be dead, and when he was finished I was sure I would bleed to death. He left the room silently, though I was sure he felt no remorse. Allen didn't have a conscience.
    I dropped myself out of bed, and began to crawl towards the bathroom. I was cut up so badly I didn't know where most of the blood was coming from. My legs hurt; my arms hurt; my hips, stomach and back hurt. I wanted to die right then and there. I wanted it all to end. There was no point in my miserable existence, anyway.
    Then my bedroom door opened again. I feared that it was Allen, so I didn't look in the direction of the door. But suddenly, I felt an extremely gentle hand brush against my shoulder. "Are you alright?" I heard a young man's voice say.
    I looked up into the most beautiful grey eyes I'd ever seen. They were friendly, and he appeared to be almost an angel. His full lips were turned into a frown, and his brow was wrinkled in sympathy.
    "Help me, please," I choked out before passing out. But it was the nicest anybody had been to me in over a month. And I was grateful that I was in the presence of a kind hand.

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