Chương 50: Fifty: Scumbag (WARNING: mature themes)
After a long moment, I wondered if he knew I was here. Unless he was ignoring me for a reason he only knew? Was he playing petty power games?
I shuffled my feet on the floor and looked around for somewhere to sit. Since he wasn't paying attention to me, I may as well make myself comfortable.
"Stand still!" the man barked at me, making me jump and stand straight.
So he hadn't forgotten me. He was just being a scumbag. I wondered what he wanted from me. The clock ticked and I played arithmetic games with the clock hands, while waiting for the scumbag officer to get around to tell me what I was here for. Every time I got restless, he'd bark at me again.
Was I being punished? What for?
I contemplated what life was going to be like as a prisoner of my own people until his voice startled me out of my thoughts.
"So you're Jean Wallace?" Scumbag looked me up and down with derision. "You're the one that Bosky seems to be interested in? There's not much of you to look at. Why would he be interested in you?"
I didn't know how to answer his questions and he didn't seem to want me to answer anyway. His insults were irritating but nothing I didn't already know. He talked without seeming to care whether I would or wouldn't answer.
"Are you a traitor, Jean Wallace?" he spat, as if my name was a curse word. "You are, aren't you? Otherwise, why else would you still be here, living in the Solitary Block? I'll be keeping my eye on you, Jean Wallace, so don't try any tricks. Come here," he beckoned with one finger.
I took one step closer.
"No, come over here," he waved me to come around to his side of the desk. When I stayed a respectful distance from him, he frowned. "Come closer."
I took small steps, going closer to him, wondering why he needed me to come so close. The moment I was within arm's reach, he yanked me over to fall on him in his office chair.
"Since you're already the enemy's slut, why don't you be my whore as well?" he asked in a soft voice that sounded far from gentle, while I scrambled to escape his grasp.
"No way," I replied in a strained voice. "I'm not anyone's whore. I'd rather be starved and worked to death."
Two heavy slaps fell on my cheeks, making them sting, burn and swell up. The slaps had knocked me into a daze, during which time, the Scumbag had already dragged me closer to him, trying to wrestle me into obedience. I winced at the bruising pain and the roughness with which he groped and pinched me. My struggles on his large lap made a stinking bulge.
"Are you sure?" Scumbag asked in a sinister voice. "I'm only ever going to give you this offer once. After today, you'll never get the chance again, even if you regret it. Think about it before you answer. I can make it worth your while."
I gasped and grunted in pain when his meaty hand caught and squeezed me. He twisted, making me cry out in pain.
"Let me go, you scumbag," I cried, fighting to break free from his grip. He was too strong. "I won't. I won't regret."
He slapped my face again, so that I couldn't speak.
"You asked for it," he snorted. "Don't complain later on. I'm not losing out on anything."
He tried to touch me and I fought him tooth and nail with everything that I had. Cursing and swearing at me under his breath, he slapped and then beat me into his desk until I could barely move anymore.
One hand choked my throat, preventing me from making any sound or even taking in anything but tiny sips of air. I couldn't breathe. I clawed at his hands but he just slapped me again, such that my cheeks swelled up with that nauseous burning sensation, obscuring part of my vision.
The other hand handled me roughly, dirtying my body with every bit of skin that he touched. It seemed that the rougher he was, the more turned on he became. The bulge in his trousers became decidedly tented and more pointed.
My breathing was ragged, my entire body ached, from all the bruises he was leaving on me, and I could taste blood. If I could have, I would have drowned him in spit and the blood of all the people he had preyed on. It was a pity I could barely move my tongue or lips for the swelling. My vision was spotting.
Seeing I was not moving and just staring at him, he released me to try and undo the fly of his trousers.
I attempted to slip away from beneath him, but he caught me by my hair, hauling me back up and causing me to release a wordless cry of pain at the burning in my scalp.
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