The Abyss

She suddenly became terrified, struggling to get off the bed, but was pressed back down by strong hands on her chest. “Dad!” she screamed, but he seemed not to hear, his hands roaming over her, praising her as he went. His other hand forcibly moved her hands away from between her legs, probing with a finger, which made her shiver like she was electrocuted. The sensation was alien, the first contact containing extreme humiliation. After a few rubs, he brought his wet fingers to his lips and licked them. “Indeed her daughter, born to be wild,” he muttered hoarsely, then climbed onto the bed, his sweat-drenched hands prying her legs apart. “Dad!” she was terrified to death, pulling at his hair with all her might, but he didn’t budge. It wasn’t that he was strong; she had already lost her strength, her body weak and limp. She didn’t understand how a man’s few touches could rob a woman of all resistance. She was too young to understand that kind of fiery desire. Nor did she comprehend why a close relative would do something so shameful to her. The sheets were crumpled into a ball as she struggled violently, sweating all over. His tongue and fingers roamed over an extremely sensitive spot, his hot breath panting against the inside of her thighs, making her feel numb all over, with one part becoming increasingly sensitive, ready to erupt from even the slightest touch, whether in a scream or a cry, she didn’t know. Her legs spasmed, unable to close, her body no longer under her control, completely at his mercy. He made her cry out when he wanted, made her gasp, tremble, or grit her teeth. She was no longer herself, not knowing what she was anymore. His tongue suddenly thrust deep inside, like a snake, flicking around, making noises. She recoiled, clutching the sheets. What was this feeling? Dizzying, confusing, her mind clouded, a slight pain that was yet pleasurable, wishing for more. Not enough, she wasn’t satisfied… His tongue then covered her entirely, focusing on that most sensitive point, causing her to scream out, her whole body convulsing as electric shocks shot through her brain, unable to think, waves of intense ripples dissolving her completely, leaving no trace behind. Taking advantage of her weakness, he abruptly tore off his robe. The altered street light outlined his muscular silhouette, his body wet with sweat, muscles bulging, his breathing heavy. Impatient and unable to restrain himself, as if discovering a new world, the greatest treasure, he forcefully charged forward, lifting her legs high, still not content, he placed two pillows under her waist. She looked down in a daze, seeing the grotesque, menacing instrument at his waist, and screamed in terror, resisting with all her might. He seemed oblivious, forcing her legs apart as far as they could go, as if trying to split her in two, leaving only her blooming, crimson center for him. He suddenly pulled the sheet over her head, muffling her cries. Then, he thrust forward, barbarically and mercilessly, reaching the deepest part. Dong Qin screamed, her body splitting in two at that moment, the pain numbing, her hands flailing on the bed like a fish out of water. A hole was torn in the bed, red blood and white fluid being devoured by the monstrous insect. She was being consumed, decayed, and corrupted bit by bit. Suddenly, Dong Qin opened her eyes to find that it was dark outside; she was drenched in sweat and on the verge of collapse. Trembling, she sat up and turned on the bedside lamp; the alarm clock read 7:05 PM. She looked around in a daze, still catching her breath, as a deep, profound sense of powerlessness and fatigue washed over her once again. This time, she didn’t even have the strength to resist. There was a knock at the door, and the maid Xiaoya’s voice came from outside, “Miss, it’s dinner time, Madam is asking you to come to the second floor for the meal.” She took a deep breath, intending to respond, but when she opened her mouth, her voice was so hoarse it scared even herself, “I… I understand, I’ll be down in five minutes.” There was no further sound from the door. She pushed off the covers, her legs feeling weak. Suddenly, she reached inside her trousers, wiping between her legs. Her fingers were covered with a viscous, colorless liquid, carrying the distinctive scent of desire. She suddenly let out a bitter laugh, which sounded like sobbing, sharp and chaotic. He was right, wasn’t he? A born slut, and that wasn’t false at all. The person torturing her was always herself, and it was also herself who pushed her into the abyss.