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Chapter 24 Wet Nightmares
"Mom, I already ate out with a friend. You and Binbin go ahead. I'm going back to my room to rest for a bit…" It was a little past seven in the evening when Lu Yao finally staggered home, body aching and exhausted. After greeting her mother, she dragged herself to her room. She didn't even dare approach her son to speak to him, afraid that her mother or her child might catch a whiff of the smell clinging to her.
Though she had taken a quick shower at Liu Zhijun's, she still felt coated in that foul, fishy odor a mix of semen and her own arousal that turned her stomach. Her pants and underwear were still damp. How could she let her mother or son see her like this?
She shut her bedroom door and hurried into the bathroom, quickly stripping off her clothes and tossing them into the trash. As each piece fell away, red marks stood out starkly against her pale skin welts and bruises, the indentations on her wrists where she'd been bound, and distinct scratches across her breasts.
Staring at the traces Liu Zhijun had left on her body memories of those moments rose, searing. Her lips trembled, and tears spilled silently down her cheeks.
Her body ached everywhere, but the pain inside outstripped anything physical. She had gone to him by herself behind her husband's back and let Liu Zhijun violate her; he treated her like an animal, rough and pitiless. Compared to the calm mask she wore outwardly, her heart was anything but.
Chastity was everything to a conservative, married woman like Lu Yao.
If not for her husband, she would never have allowed this. If not for him, she would have fought Liu Zhijun to the death before submitting.
Wuuu… wuuu…
She pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle the sobs as she scrubbed her skin, desperate to wash away the filth. But the more she rubbed, the dirtier she felt. No amount of water or soap could scour away the shame etched into her flesh.
After a long time, she dragged herself from the bathroom, collapsed on the bed, and fell into a heavy sleep.
"N-no… no… don't… stop… please… stop… ah…" At some point in the night, she shot upright, panting, sweat beading on her reddened face. Her eyes were unfocused with panic. Strands of hair stuck to her damp cheeks, and even the thin pajamas clung to the curve of her body, soaked through.
Another nightmare again replaying how Liu Zhijun had violated her.
It wasn't the first such dream. Since the first time he attacked her, she had woken from several midnight horrors fighting for breath, heart stampeding. But this one was clearer. The events of the afternoon stayed sharp in her head; this time, she remembered every detail, and the dreams reflected that vividness.
Hah… hah…
She sat there a long time, trying to slow her breathing. She checked her phone for the time, lay back down, and closed her eyes but images of his hands, his mouth, his words flooded her mind. Her eyes stung again.
No… no…
Humiliation, grievance, fury, guilt each surged up within her, and again the tears came. Yet even as she thought of what he'd done, a treacherous heat began to flicker under her skin. Moisture gathered between her thighs; deep inside, an itch crawled, unbearable, as if tiny ants scurried over the most private places. She pressed her legs together.
Heh, heh, heh…
Across town, Liu Zhijun lay on his bed smirking, fiddling with his phone. He wondered how well the drug was working. If all went as planned, the little slut should be touching herself by now.
The drug he'd given her today was not the same as last time. Previously, it had fogged the mind and stole awareness. This time, it sharpened forced the victim to remember everything clearly while inflaming the body more intensely, with effects longer lasting and not quelled by a mere once or twice.
"Mmm… mm… mm…" Heat built inside her, and she turned restlessly under the sheets. Sweat pearled at her temples; her gaze grew hazy. She pressed her thighs together to ease the itch, but the more she squeezed, the worse it burned deep, nagging, insistent. A hand twitched, wanting to slip down.
No… I can't… I can't do something so shameful…
She clenched her lips and hugged the soft blanket between her legs, grinding lightly. The friction sent little shivers through her body, ripples of tingling that spread outward, rattling her nerves.
But… it's not enough… not enough…
As the fire stoked higher, images of Liu Zhijun intruded again: the feel of his palm, the sound of his voice, the thick intrusion filling her, the heat spreading from a single point outward until she could barely breathe.
"Mm…" When the mental picture crystallized him thrusting into her the breath caught in her throat and she swallowed tightly. A flash of sensation and shame collided hot fluid spilled from her, dampening her underwear.
Hah… hah… hah…
As the wave ebbed, clarity returned bringing fresh humiliation with it. The thought of what she had just done, of what she had just imagined she wanted to slap herself.
After a moment, she dragged herself to the bathroom again, peeled off the blotched underwear, and tossed it into the trash. She had lost count of how many pairs she had thrown away since this began.
"Ahh…" She rinsed herself quickly, lay back down, and sighed. Just as she settled, her phone vibrated twice. She frowned, picked it up and felt her heart chill. A message from him again.
It was a single photo: Lu Yao kneeling on the bed, wrists bound behind her with his belt, his thick shaft pressed between the cleft of her pale, rounded buttocks still too large to be fully hidden even in that position.
"Bastard…" She deleted it at once, jaw tight. He sent pictures often she couldn't stop him. All she could do was erase the evidence every time, immediately.
She turned off the phone and lay down again, but after a while, the image she had tried to forget rose again more insistent now. She felt the itch spark once more.
"Mmm…" In the dark, she scrunched her face, trying to push the image away. But it returned, and then worse began to move in her mind. She saw it anew, with motion and sound, as if it were happening all over again.
"Mmm… mm… mm…" Without realizing it, she pressed her thighs together again. The fire surged back, faster this time. Her mind swam with memory his hand striking her, the rough press of him in her mouth, fingers digging into her breasts, the hot flood inside her.
Hah… hah… mm… mm…
Time slipped. At some point, her hand slid free from the sheets between her legs, withdrawing weakly afterward, fingers slick and sticky. Face burning, she went to the bathroom yet again to wash herself. By the time she crawled back beneath the covers, it was well past two or three in the morning. Finally, exhausted, she fell asleep.
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This novel has 40 chapters
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