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[Love Story] THE MIND OF A SICK LOVER – 2.0

Classical music could be heard from the speakers in the background.  It seemed to be fading into the fresh rose-scented atmosphere. This was the prison her captor caged her in. 
Charlene hummed softly to herself as she watched the sun set from the tiny window in her prison. She could feel the time approaching. The time he would come. For some reason, she was excited. You could call it love, you could even call it obsession. One could wonder; How had she managed to love her half brother? 
It all started when he abducted her from her bedroom two years ago. They had hated each other; or so she thought. He had barged in and injected her with a substance that made her unconscious. She woke up in her cell. The scent of roses was the first thing that hit her. He seemed to have been watching her, for he appeared immediately she awoke. She was busy looking around in the squeaky clean room with a tiny window when he came in.
Immediately she set her eyes on him, anger consumed her.
“How dare you??”, she growled.
He didn’t reply. He was dressed in dark red robes . He had a mad look in his eyes. He marched up to her and grabbed her like a predator on its prey. Fear began tinting her anger.
He ripped off her silky nightgown like an animal, exposing the right side of her body. All these while, she was struggling against his huge frame.
He grabbed her chin with one hand and forced her to look up at him. He grabbed her so hard she could feel her skin bruise.  Then he landed a kiss on her lips. The kiss was so ravenous that she was certain it was to punish her.
Anger filled her once more and she bit him hard on the lips. He roared like a wounded lion and she seized the opportunity and tried to kick him in the balls.
But he was swift. He grabbed her leg and threw  her with so much force that she hit the wall. She began to cry loudly.
“Shut up!”, he said but she didn’t listen. 
He picked her off the floor and slapped her hard across the face severally.
Yes; she was starting to see stars. She tried to fight back but he battered her some more.
Eventually, she stopped fighting. She laid motionless on the cold hard tiles of the empty, rose-scented room. 
He knelt by her side and stroked her brown straight hair. He removed what remained of her nightgown and let his eyes roam her naked body. She was finally his. He felt excitement surge through him and he cut her skin severally with the small razor he had earlier put in his robes. The wounds were deep enough to bleed but not enough to kill her. He took off his robes and claimed her for himself. 
He parted her legs and filled her up. He was convinced she had been waiting for him. With each thrust, tears slipped from the corner of her eyes but she didn’t let out any sound. She was too weak. When he had exhausted himself, he got up and slowly nursed her wounds. Then he dressed her in perfumed robes too. 
Everyday, right after the sun set, he’d come to take her.It didn’t take long to break her spirit. Eventually, she didn’t fight back. She just let him take her. He was becoming more gentle everyday or maybe she was getting used to his roughness. Bringing her food and tending every ailment she got.   Then he started taking breaks. He would go days without raping her, only bringing her food and making sure she used the small shower in the room. He liked everything squeaky clean.  Time passed. You could say loneliness ate her up. She started craving him. She wanted him to tie her up and touch her. The fear she felt for him stirred sexual desires in her. After all, she knew no one else but him. Everyone she knew seemed to have faded away. Madness! You could call it.
She heard the door of her prison open,dragging her out of her thoughts. He was in his red robes again. He hadn’t touched her in two weeks. She faked being brave. The less she cowered, the fiercer he got which was just the way she liked it. 
He seized her once more and she let her robes slide to the ground. She tried to attack him and he squeezed her neck. She felt her desire grow stronger. It was as if he was in tune with her. Soon, he was thrusting into her,each second faster than the last. He was almost nearing his climax as his grip tightened on her neck. She couldn’t breathe. She tried to pry his hands off her neck but he only squeezed tighter and pounded her harder. Soon, she was seeing black dots. She was choking but he didn’t stop. When his seed came and he poured it hot and scalding into her,he expected her to rise again. But she didn’t. She remained limp in his arms.
She was no longer breathing.

About Praise

Praise Osawaru is a poet and writer of fiction and creative nonfiction. He's also a blogger and content developer.

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