Break Me ~ Prologue

The following prologue contains forced sexual activity/intercourse. Break Me is a dark prison drama rife with rape and violence. In order to keep the story realistic to the prison setting and dynamics, derogatory racial slang will be used through out. This does not necessarily reflect the feelings of the author. If you are easily offended by this please do not continue.


Prologue

The petite blonde came out of her sleep with a scream that was never heard. She struggled against the strong hand clamped over her mouth. Terror pooled in her green eyes as her husband's leering face appeared out of the dark. The sweet smell of Kessler's whiskey on his breath made her stomach roll.

"Shhh . . . What's wrong Tinkerbell?" he crooned, running his tongue around the shell of her ear and down the side of her throat. She gagged, bile burning the back of her throat and bringing tears to her eyes. His mouth opened hot against her pale skin, suckling until she moaned in pain behind his hand. Shane chuckled at her discomfort. The little bitch hated it when he marked her. Giving the already discoloring flesh another lick, he sank his teeth hard into the corded muscle running down into her shoulder.

Erin screamed behind his hand, tears rolling down her face as she struggled. Strong hands gripped her ankles as she tried to twist away. He wasn't alone. Something trickled down her collarbone, saliva--blood? Finally Shane released his hold with a laugh, blood staining his normally pearly teeth. A shiver ran down her spine as a soft laugh came from the foot of the bed. Shane's half brother, Finney Kirk, peeled the blankets off her, his eyes sparkling malevolently in the dark. Slowly, he crawled up her body, his hands light and almost reverent as he inched her nightshirt up.

Gorge rose, threatening to choke her as Finney's fingers hooked inside her panties. Her eyes flew franticly to her husband, emerald eyes pleading silently as she struggled. Trying to draw his attention, she loosened her nails from Shane's wrist and stroked his hand beseechingly. For all his many faults, Shane had always been incredibly possessive of her. It was a trait that at times had been stifling, but mostly made Erin feel cherished. Now, he couldn't even spare her a glance. His blue eyes remained locked on his half brother, a frightening light flickering in their depths. What was going through his mind as he watched another man cover his wife?

"Pleading won't do you any good now, child. Shane knows that he can't control you as he should and has asked for my help. If it will make you feel any better . . . you may think of me as the last man on earth," Finney said in that soft, strangely hypnotic voice that always made her shudder. She met his eyes over Shane's hand and instantly wished she hadn't. He had promised her she would regret rejecting him with those flippant, yet harsh, words. The malice in his eyes chilled her to the bone. The little red-headed bastard had the face and voice of an angel--but the heart of Satan himself. She would receive no mercy.

Without warning she lashed out, her nails raking at Finney's mocking blue eyes. He hissed in surprise, catching one wrist and yanking his head back as blood welled to the surface from several deep furrows across his cheek. He captured the other hand and smiled down at Erin. Fresh tears of pain and fear flooded her eyes as he ground the delicate bones together in his larger hands, forcing her arms above her head.

"It is increasingly obvious that you have a lot to learn about women, baby brother. Do you think that you can manage to hold the bitch's hands on your own or is a little spitfire like Tinkerbell too much for you to handle?"

Although his tone was deceptively mild, the look he gave Shane made his displeasure obvious. The younger brother's cheeks flushed. He shot his petite wife a withering glare that promised she would pay dearly for his embarrassment.

"We won't have any more problems out of her," he muttered and moved to the head of the bed to secure her wrists in his big paws.

"Jesus," Erin whispered, her voice cracking with fear and anguish. "Shane, please don't do this," she implored tilting her head back, desperately trying to meet her husband's gaze.

Part of her still clung to the hope that it wasn't too late. That if Shane would just look at her, he would realize . . . realize what he was doing to their marriage. A marriage that everyone had said would fail; a marriage that Erin refused to give up hope on. "Shane, look at me. Don't let him do this. You are the only man that I have ever been with, the only man I've ever wanted to be with. I love you. If you love me, if you have ever loved me--you won't let your brother do this to me . . . to us."

She cried out as Finney slapped her hard across the face. The returning backhand laid her cheekbone open with his ring, leaving her dazed.

"Don't let the siren's words sway you from your course, brother. Her words are poisonous and her tongue sharp, the likes of the whore Delilah or the mother of all sluts, Eve," Finney said smoothly. "God created woman to serve and please man, Shane. Erin needs to be taught her place." At his brother's worried gaze, he reached out and squeezed the larger man's shoulder in a gesture of comfort. "With me moving in, it will get easier, little brother."

With me moving in, the words screamed in Erin's mind as terror twisted her gut. She closed her eyes, fighting down nausea as her head spun. Her tongue probed the inside of her cheek, the sickening coppery taste of blood paying testament to another broken tooth. Pain, fear--they had become her constant companions in the ten months she had been married to Shane; but she knew it would all be nothing compared to the hell Finney would put her through.

Her eyes flew open as her panties were yanked roughly down her thighs. Finney flashed a lecherous grin as he cupped her mound in his palm for a moment, his fingers probing her dry folds. A challenging, deranged light glittered in his eyes as he moved over her. She tried to struggle, told her body to fight, but the fervor of his gaze held her paralyzed. Pain ripped through her as he triumphantly thrust his full length into her unprepared body. He laughed as her mouth opened in a perfect soundless 'O' of agony, her back bowing off the bed. She turned her face away from his mocking laughter, tears now flowing freely. A low, keening cry escaped her lips as Finney pounded in and out of her with brute force. Using her, bruising her . . .breaking her in a way Shane's fists never had.



It seemed to go on forever. The brothers changed places several times, laughing and taunting the petite blonde when she was too tired, too weak to fight or even protest any longer. Finney, always the instigator, seemed to take sadistic delight in finding new ways to draw whimpers and raspy cries from her raw throat. The fatigue of their own bodies only inspired them to greater cruelties, as it became a competition.

Erin felt the bed shift as Finney rose, taking his body heat and leaving her shivering and alone on the soiled sheets. Instinctively, her eyes followed him as he retrieved his clothes from the bedroom floor. He turned, feeling the weight of her stare, and smiled at her.

She shrank back as he rested a knee on the bed, reaching a hand out to her. Just then, Shane hollered from the living room. With a reluctant shake of his head, Finney stood and headed towards the door. She held her breath as he paused in the doorway with a sinister smile. "That was just lesson number one. We have a lifetime ahead of us."

Shivering, she curled in on herself, pain wracking her waif-like form. A soft sob bubbled out of her ravaged throat as she was left alone in the dark.




Blood streaked her cramping thighs as Erin slowly staggered through the dark house trailer. Over sensitized nerve endings protested her every movement. As the hall started to spin she paused, leaning against the wall unsteadily. Slowly she closed her eyes, letting her forehead rest against the cool paneling as she fought the drugging simplicity of unconsciousness. Her tongue felt thick as she tried to wet her split and swollen lips. She inched along the wall. The water cooler wavered tauntingly at the edge of her sight, like an oasis. So intent was Erin on her goal, she stumbled, barely biting back a scream as something wrapped around her ankle.

Sinking to the floor, she wrapped her arms around her knees, rocking back and forth as she fought the hysterical laughter welling in her throat. The mammoth orange tomcat rubbed against her shins with a purr, obviously unaware or uncaring that his mistress was teetering perilously close to a nervous breakdown. She gagged as Siegfried's rough sandpaper tongue lapped at the back of her thigh. He gave a haughty sniff of affront as she pushed him away with a revolted shudder. Taking a deep breath despite the painful pull to her ribcage, Erin rocked to her hands and knees, crawling the last ten feet to the water cooler.

Tilting her head, she drank eagerly, letting the cold water bathe her battered features as it spilled over. Finally getting her fill, she leaned her forehead against the chilled plastic, staring down blankly at where Siegfried lapped at the sodden carpet. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew Shane would be furious; but she couldn't seem to bring herself to move for a towel. She was so damn tired.

Shane sat sprawled in his recliner, a Budweiser tilting haphazardly off the arm in his nerveless fingers. He looked like an angel in his sleep. His dark hair fell boyishly across his forehead, his long lashes brushing his cheeks. Her heart constricted as she remembered the times she had lain awake beside her husband, dreaming of a little boy with long, sooty lashes and his daddy's dimples. Now, when she closed her eyes, she saw the eerie glow that lit his eyes as his half brother raped her. She wasn't sure when she had picked up the 20 gauge shot-gun, but its weight felt right in her hands. Mindlessly, her fingers caressed the textured, black synthetic stock.

Finney snorted in his sleep and shifted on the couch as the floor creaked under Erin's shaky feet. She held her breath, her heart hammering in her chest. The terror was nearly suffocating as she looked down at a lifetime of fear, pain, and degradation. The stock fit snugly into the crook of her shoulder as it caressed her cheek. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled slowly, closed her eyes--and squeezed the trigger.

"Break Me ~ Chapter One"