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Showtime - Chapter 20

Published at 4th of February 2019 09:23:52 PM


Chapter 20

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The other two men lifted Sam's legs up by her feet, trying to squeeze her legs. They put a foot in the back of their knees and leaned with their whole weight on it, Sam's muscles gave way. The breaker stepped between her legs and opened his pants. Sam turned his head to one side. She felt his hand on her pubic area.

"Dry as the desert," he criticized her condition.

He bent his head low and spat his saliva between her legs. Sam's stomach contracted painfully and she began to gag. He rubbed his spit and repeated this procedure until he was satisfied with the result. He spat one last time in his hollow hand.

When he wet himself with his saliva, Sam closed his eyes in disgust. She felt several hands slide over her body, her breasts were kneaded painfully, her sensitive nipples pressed between hot fingers. Sam suffered inexpressible agony.

When the spit-smoker brutally thrust his thing into her, she did not resist the emerging impotence, but readily gave herself to her.

She awoke, gasping and spitting. 'God, let it be over' it shot through her mind.

The man with the broken nose had tipped a bucket of water over her face. His colleague stood on her legs, with both feet on her upper arms. She saw the bloodied face up close and admired the rich hues of the purple rings that spread beneath his eyes. She smelled his bad breath as he spat in her face.

"It would only be half the fun if you did not mess things up. Go on, Jefe (Mexican Boss), take care of her."

Again she felt a raging pain in the genital area, as the breaker hit her more and more violently. He poured into her groaning loudly. She felt hot liquid running down the inside of her thighs. Only seeds or your own blood?

The man pulled away from her and grabbed her one last time between her legs. Then he put all his weight on her damaged body and wiped her across the face with his hand. Everywhere she felt the sticky substance and threw her head back and forth in disgust. One by one, this ritual repeated.

Sam cried bitter tears of pain and shame. Last of all was the guy with the broken nose. Finally he hit Sam so hard in the face that her lip burst open.

Sam tasted the coppery taste of blood. Surprised, she ran two fingers over her mouth and studied her bloody fingertips. Out of sheer concentration, she had bitten her lower lip. But the damn castle was still closed.

Angrily, she peppered her cutlery to the next corner and rose from her chair. German workmanship. So she did not get on.

Sam felt the frame of the door. It hung in two thick, sturdy hinges. Her fingers continued to slide over the edge of the door. Sharply, she sucked in her breath as she felt a sharp stabbing pain in her index finger. Surprised she saw a centimeter-long wood splinter stuck in her skin.

With pointed fingers, she pulled out the splinter and put her finger in her mouth. As her lips closed around her finger and slowly sucked on it, Sam looked up thoughtfully. Wood, maybe she could destroy the frame around the door lock.

Sam resolutely walked over to the numerous cupboards and drawers. Frantically, she began to search through the content, causing quite a chaos in Summersby's meticulous order. It gave her a deep satisfaction in destroying something that man had created with his own hands.

As if in a delusion she hurled the various objects on the ground behind her. In addition to several screwdrivers, nails and pliers, which Sam removed from the drawers, she looked at the big buckets and cans in one of the lower cabinets in consternation. Salt Water Solution, Preservation Salt - what the hell did Summersby do with these things?

Sam stroked a strand from her forehead and resignedly opened another closet door. Hey, what was up there? Sam happily closed her fingers around the rubber grip of a tiny circular saw. The thing looked really strange. Sam had never seen such a small issue. She shrugged, the thing would do its job. Sam went in search of a power outlet.

Directly above the worktop next to the door was a triple socket. Whether God, the devil or fate, Sam thanked the one who had brought her back into the race. Sam rammed the plug into the tin and pressed the tiny metal button. The little disc turned happily and made a whirring noise. Sam carefully lowered the window onto the wooden frame.




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