Hands.

They were everywhere roaming and groping, reaching out to touch everything they could grasp, tugging at her inside and out all at once.

Tara berated herself for even hearing the words he spoke. It was a fleeting moment of stillness where her limbs froze and her mind went blank. Perhaps it was shock, she reasoned, grasping for excuses to revive her faltering conscience, because there was no way in hell she would ever consider giving in.

"If you want to live, do as we say."

When confronted with such a statement, what does it mean to hesitate? Does it render you complicit in the crime committed against you?

However, Tara didn't get to dwell on this matter for long. Before she realized it, they were all over her.

Their hands held her down while simultaneously ripping her to shreds. She thrashed, screamed, and howled, her cries echoing like those of a wounded and cornered animal. Yet, the hollow sounds fell on deaf ears, resonating through the emptiness of their souls as they callously stripped her naked.

Tara had anticipated another slap or a harsher punishment for giving them a hard time. But they only focused on the task at hand. She was sure they knew what they were doing was harsher than any beating they could ever deliver.

With her clothes nearly torn off of her struggling body, each limb was forcibly pulled, tied, and secured to every corner of the bed. The rope dug into her skin, its grip harsh and unyielding. After checking the knots with one final tug, they released their hold of her. 

Silent droplets slid down her face, tickling her ears as she lay motionless. Resignation consumed her, and she stared dejectedly at the ceiling while they shuffled out, complimenting each other for their work.

Goosebumps covered her body, and the shivers worsened when she heard the door open and click shut not only a few moments after they left. She had no time to even contemplate her predicament.

The footsteps stomped all over her wild heart, their echoes reverberating in her ringing ears as one of them approached. Tara didn't dare move or breathe. She squeezed her eyes shut and simply wished for the ground to split open and swallow her whole.

A cold touch chilled her to the bone. Unlike the previous rough handling, this one was gentle as if the monster couldn't believe she was truly there. Tara tensed as his hand traced the outline of her hip, and her breath hitched when it glided up until his palm pressed her breast.

A whimper betrayed her tightly sealed lips.

"Shush," the man whispered, his breathing hot and heavy as it tickled her face. Bile gathered in her throat at the sensation of his tongue sliding over her mouth, cheek, and ear. His voice strained as he spoke, "Let's have some fun."

Then, the rustling of clothes filled the deafening silence.

Time. What was that, even?

It became an elusive concept, blurring into insignificance. It seemed to lose its meaning, becoming an abstract notion devoid of relevance in the current nightmare Tara found herself trapped in.

Has it been an hour, or two? A day, or a week? A month, or perhaps, an eternity?

With the thick curtains always drawn, there was no concept of or distinction between day and night. It was a relentless cycle of torment with no moment of respite or peaceful sleep. One ordeal ended only to be followed by another, and then another, in an endless procession of suffering. When exhaustion finally caught up with the four tormentors after their first taste of her chastity, they called upon one more, the fifth member of their twisted circle of friends.

Whether he was initially hesitant to join or simply preoccupied with errands was irrelevant. What mattered was his choice to partake in the atrocities rather than put an end to them. In that regard, he proved to be a greater monster than the rest.

The bed squeaked and protested, and the walls closed in on them. Their heavy bodies nearly cut off any supply of air most times, always dictating the pace. There was no time to adjust, to comprehend what was happening to her innocence. In and out they went, both her and the room, in an unending cycle of violation. The door whined, and her soul wilted.

Joints numb, stomach empty, and skin weeping. They took, took, took, and she unwillingly gave.

Lost amidst the unending cycle of torment and despair, Tara resolved to numbly stare at the wall or the ceiling, clenching her teeth and biting down on her tongue to stifle any sound. What use was it to voice her pain or discomfort, her aversion or anger? They never listened, and they showed no intention of starting now.

They were simply five monsters on a mission, their minds consumed by carnal desires, alcohol, snacks, and sports games—those were the only things Tara gathered during her captivity.

They made sure never to call each other by name in front of her, never to reveal anything about themselves. She knew then that they'd meticulously planned this, preparing the house and stocking up on supplies for their stay. However, Tara wasn't their intended target. It could have been anyone else. All they wanted and needed was a woman, any woman at that. To them, she was in the right place at the perfect time—an ideal prey.

At some point, she wished they had captured someone else instead. These dark thoughts only intensified her feelings of self-loathing and despair. What was she even thinking, wishing a horrifying fate such as this upon someone else? She was a monster.

Silent sobs wracked her body when she was finally granted a brief moment alone with the storm of thoughts raging in her mind. Every part of her ached, from the inside out.

She was at a loss, unable to properly think or conjure up any coherent idea. Tara wanted nothing more than to disappear. Yet, she could only weep as her muscles spasmed and joints protested the prolonged, uncomfortable position. She'd only been spared a couple of visits to use the bathroom but never the privacy. There was always someone following her every move, probably even getting hard watching her squirm over the toilet seat.

Biting hard on the inside of her cheek, Tara blinked her tears away. Someone was coming.

"The food's run out," one grumbled, frustration evident in his tone. "And they keep asking when we'll be back. It's only been three days, for fuck's sake."

Another chuckled. "You know how moms are, man. Don't sweat it, we can always do it again some other time."

"Awesome. So, one last round?"

"One last round."

Her toes curled and, despite the nervousness and nausea that gnawed at her insides, her lips stretched into a feeble smile. 

Whether the outside awaited her or death, she didn't care. What mattered was that it was ending soon.

One last round.

Word count: 1170.

Total word count: 3251.

Did you catch the reference at the beginning of this chapter? Well, if you haven't it was referring to the movie: Everything, Everywhere, All At Once. Eeep, what a place to reference such a movie, LOL.

Anyway, was this chapter hard for you to read? I tried not to make this graphic, hope that went well. However, the mature tag for this story is not for the assault tbh! 😝🤭 You will see! *evil laugh*