Read Online Suffer the Flesh by Monica O'rourke - Free Book Online Page B

The young guard took her hand, led her to an area of the floor covered with mats. “You’re supposed to have fun today, and I’ll be helping you along.”
    He was upbeat, chipper, a goddamned boy scout. “My name’s Kevin.”
    Yeah? Who the hell cares ? The frustration felt when she’d made the decision to give up was almost as painful as the idea of the resignation itself. If Zoey had felt anguish at her inability to fight back before, it had become worse, since she was unable to fight, unable to save herself, unable to allow herself basic assumed rights. Zoey decided to do as they demanded. Maybe things would get better somehow … maybe this would keep her whole, prevent them from shredding parts of her body away with a medieval torture device.
    She slumped against the wall, eyes buried in the back of her wrist, and sobbed. Waited for the inescapable beating, the whip strokes across her back, the tearing metal hooks rending her flesh into unrecognizable pulp.
    Body shaking with her sobs, she couldn’t stop. Weeks of frustration and pain washed away with the tears, acid rain that somehow was cleansing.
    “Come with me,” Kevin whispered in her ear, and led her away, her vision blurred, her eyes sore and puffy.
    She prayed that her punishment wouldn’t be too severe, that she would survive it, and that it would end quickly.
    Kevin brought her to a locked door behind the bathroom, a room off-limits to the prisoners. Inside was a sauna whirlpool, which smelled of chlorine and salts.
    “The guards use it. It’s …” He smiled, shrugged. “Relaxing.” He led her up the few short steps to the edge of the pool. She stared at the steaming water, wondering if she was about to be boiled alive.
    Kevin stripped, tossing his clothes and weapon in a pile by the door.
    Zoey stood motionless at the top of the steps, arms crossed over her breasts.
    Approaching from behind, he moved her arms, gently pulled the shirt over her head and tossed it with his own clothes.
    He leaned into her, pressed his lips into the back of her head. His fingertips traced her arms, moved further to caress her ribcage, her abdomen. Tenderly he lay kisses on her shoulders, trailed his tongue along the musky, sweaty perfume of her skin. Lifted her hands over her head and stretched her body taut and starting at her elbows followed her silhouette with butterfly kisses and pretend touches.
    He motioned her forward and they stepped into the bubbling water, and like a thousand lovers’ touches the water stimulated her legs, her pelvis. Kevin turned her and they faced, and he took a nipple between his lips and held it in his mouth, his breath as steamy as the water. Took it between his teeth, and she felt it harden. He grasped her buttocks and pulled her closer, rubbing his groin over hers, his stiffening cock probing, searching areas, as if waiting for permission to receive him.
    His mouth roamed from breast to collarbone to neck, licked her chin, discovered her lips.
    But he pulled away, moved his cock so that it rested against her thigh. She wanted to touch it, wanted to feel it inside her, had not felt that way since she’d been brought to this wretched place. But something was different now. She needed the closeness, the tenderness of the man’s touch. Needed the comfort of its delicate strength. Ached to feel it inside her, the velvety softness, the feeling of fullness, of wanting .
    His fingertips barely dusted the surface of her skin, the endless length of organ alive and screaming and waiting for further touches, waiting for him to complete her.
    With cupped palms he poured water over her hair and carefully washed away dried blood and semen from her body. She reached down and took his cock in her hand, but he pulled away, took her hands instead and laced his fingers into hers, bent his head and again found her lips. The water washed over them as they went down to their knees and rested, eyes closed, at the edge of the pool, the only sounds the