‘If you don’t like living with me you can just fuck off.’ Mike walked up to me and shoved me towards the door. I stumbled and nearly fell but managed to stay upright. He pushed me again and I lost my footing, crashing to the floor. He stood over me, eyes wide with fury.

How had we even got here? We were happy a couple of months ago. Never said a cross word to each other. It all seemed perfect. Until we moved from a 3 bedroom house to a poky 1 bedroom flat. That’s when all the rows started. Little things at first. Stupid things that shouldn’t have made a difference, but did. Like why wasn’t his dinner ready when he got in from work? It didn’t matter how many times I pointed out that he was home from work earlier than I was, I should have always had his dinner ready. I quit my job in the end. He wasn’t happy with me working anyway, with other men where he couldn’t keep an eye on me. Silly little rows over who’s turn it was to go shopping, get the paper, things like that. I took it at first, just let it all wash over me. But soon I got tired of it, and started to stand up for myself. That’s when all the trouble began. He didn’t like me standing up for myself.

And that’s how we got there. Me cowering on the floor, once again as I steeled myself for another beating. I went inside my head to my ‘safe space’, where I could pretend nothing was wrong and everything was all ok. I waited for a while, then cautiously came back to the real world. He was crashed out on the sofa, staring at the telly. I stood up and walked over to him. He kicked out at me lazily, but I knew he couldn’t be bothered properly. I looked down at him and perched myself on the arm of the settee.

‘Why are we fighting all the time? There’s no point. We were happy once. Why can’t we get back to that again. Come on baby. I miss the old you. All you do is work, lie around and have a go at me.’

‘Well if you weren’t so fucking useless, I wouldn’t have to have a go at you would I?’ He didn’t even look away from the telly. That pissed me off. Reaching down, I grabbed his face and turned it to face me. He stared at me for a minute, before grabbing my hair and yanking my head down close to his.

‘Touch me again, and I’ll kill you. Got it?’ I fought to keep my balance, and lost, toppling on top of him. Quick as a flash, he twisted my arm and yanked it up behind me. I winced but stayed quiet. I knew better than to shout out. He pulled my arm tighter, shifting me round so I was lying in front of him. I lay still, keeping my breathing shallow so I didn’t piss him off. He glanced up at the clock and shoved me off the sofa. I lay there for a minute before sorting myself out and sitting up.

‘Shop’s going to be shut soon.’

‘Point being?’

He sighed. ‘My point is, we need some stuff. So fuck off and get it before you get what you really deserve.’

Pulling my jacket on, I zipped it up, yanked my hat on and flounced out the door. Just as I slammed it shut, I realised I needed him with me. I wasn’t going to walk through the subway bit on my own. I didn’t even like doing it on my own, never mind this late at night. Well fuck him. I’d walk across the green, down by the road. Serve him right if I got run over. Maybe then he’d actually be nice to me. I sighed, pulled my hat down even further and set off. It was only a 10 minute walk to the shop (not including trying to cross the road), but I still got nervous. We lived on a rough estate and you never knew who was waiting round the corner to stab you. I gingerly made my way across the green, taking care to avoid anywhere that the mud puddles looked deep. It was all the boy racers fault, pulling donuts on it, chewing up the grass, turning it into a swamp.

‘Fucking twats, the lot of them. Wish they’d all just fuck off and die,’ I muttered to myself about men in general. Coming down the other side of the green to the road, I stood at the side, shielding my eyes from the glare of the car headlights, waiting for a clear space to cross. I ignored a van pulling up- after all on the estate, you couldn’t be too nosy. That’s when bad things happened, when you knew something you weren’t meant to. Best just to leave well alone. Only, I couldn’t see the road properly now. I stepped out in front of the van to get a better view, just as the driver revved the engine and moved forwards. I jumped back, screaming abuse after him as he drove away.

‘Fucking men. You’re all cunts, the whole lot of you. Trying to fucking run me over! What the fuck are you playing at you twats!?’

The van squealed to a halt and started to reverse. I panicked. Darting forwards, I tried to find a gap in the traffic to dodge through. The van was still reversing towards me, speeding up. Shutting my eyes, standing there, clenching my fists, bracing myself for the impact, one clear thought came to me.

‘I’m going to die. This is it, my life is over.’

The van slammed the anchors on and I heard the tyres squealing along with the sound of a back door being thrown open. I opened my eyes and saw 5 men standing there. I recognised one of them as being the barman in our local, another being his brother. The other 3, I didn’t have a clue who they were. I sagged with relief and sat down on the kerb.

‘Jon. You’re a cunt. I should have known it would be you. What the fuck were you playing out, driving at me like that?’

He glared at me ‘What the fuck were you doing standing in the middle of the road. I had right of way you stupid bitch.’

‘You’d stopped. Totally. I thought I’d be okay to go. Live with it.’ With that, I turned round and carried on watching the traffic, waiting for a gap. This was getting ridiculous. At this rate, I would never get to the shop! I was contemplating turning round, going home and telling Mike that they’d shut up early, when I felt hands round my waist. I turned round and saw Jon looming over me, pulling me to him.

‘What the fuck are you doing? Let me go you freak!’

He pulled me closer and started dragging me towards the van. I struggled against him, kicking out. I swung my leg back to kick him again and someone grabbed it. I twisted round and saw Grant holding onto it tightly before reaching down to grab the other one. I lashed out and caught him in the face. Bringing his hand up to his lip, he pulled it away and saw blood. Leaning over me, he spat blood in my face. I turned my head to the side, coughing as some of it went down my throat. I looked at the cars driving past, wondering why none of them were stopping to help or phoning for the police at the very least. Until I remembered- the police never bothered coming to anyone on our estate, and you kept your nose out of other peoples business, no matter what was going on.

I kicked out even more, twisting and turning to get away, but it was no good, between the two of them, they quickly bundled me into the van, slamming the doors behind them as they climbed in. I lay on the floor, winded after being thrown in. as I got my breath back, I pulled myself up, taking in the surroundings. I was in a Transit van with 5 mental blokes, and no heavy objects within easy reach to defend myself with. I felt around behind me, seeing if I’d missed anything, all the time keeping my eye on Jon and Grant. I suddenly felt something come round my neck from behind me. I grabbed it and squealed slightly as it dug into my flesh. I looked up to see one of the men from the front of the van looping more rope round my neck. As I fought to loosen it off he kept pulling tighter and tighter. My head span, my vision went blurry then black as I faded into darkness.

I woke up some time later, and tried to sit up. I was lying on my side, my arms tied behind me, my legs tied at the ankles. I tried talking before realising that my mouth was filled with what felt like a ball gag- I could feel the buckle digging into my head. I rolled over to a wall, and using it as a support, I sat up, taking stock of where I was. It was a fairly large room, with a few odds and sods, nothing that really caught my attention as being useful though. Could hardly see in the semi-darkness though. The tiny little window hardly let in any light at all and it was getting dark outside. Off the weak light from the window, I was something glinting. Shuffling over on my ass, I went to inspect it. It wasn’t anything I could identify, but if was sharp. Scooting around so my back was to it, I tried something I’ve only ever seen in movies- rubbing my bonds up and down it in the hope that they would get cut. Half an hour later, I had to accept that it only worked in the movies, not in real life. Either that or I was doing it wrong. I heard to door squeak open and froze, like a bunny caught in headlights. Jon looked round the room, searching for me. He spotted me and grinned. Walking over to me he grabbed me by my hair and dragged me into the middle of the room. I skidded along, trying to ease the pressure on my head.

After pulling me into the middle of the room, he let go of my hair and laughed softly as my head bounced off the concrete. I lay on my side, staring at the wall, listening to him walk away. After a few minutes I squirmed around, trying to sit up again. I soon gave up and lay still. I could hear Jon talking in a low voice to the other men. Footsteps rang out over the concrete as at least 2 of them came over to me. I was dragged into a sitting position and the room was suddenly flooded with light. I squeezed my eyes shut against the glare. My head was yanked back and I could feel the cold steel of a knife blade at my throat. My nostrils flared frantically as I tried to breathe through my panic. Opening my eyes, I stared up at Jon who grinned at me.

‘Now then bitch, I’m going to take your gag out. Scream if you want, we’re totally soundproofed, but me and the boys don’t like a lot of noise.’ He traced the knife along my throat, drawing a small line of blood that he licked off ‘Understand cunt?’

I nodded. Anything to get the gag out. He reached behind my head, unbuckled it and yanked it out. I swallowed a few times to get some moisture back into my mouth. It didn’t work.

‘Water’ I croaked out. Jon and the others laughed.

‘Honey, you’ll get plenty of wet stuff in your mouth before we’re finished with you.’

I felt my stomach clench with fear and a cold, icy knot of dread settled over me. Dropping my head again, Jon rolled me onto my stomach before grabbing my legs and pulling me over to the rest of his mates. My belly started to tingle where my top had ridden up and my soft skin came into contact with the floor.

He dropped my legs, flipped my over, and they all stood over me, leering. I stared up helplessly a noticed a couple of them already had their cocks out. Fuck. This really was happening. It weren’t some nightmare. Jon straddled my stomach and pulled his knife out once more. I had a feeling I was going to be seeing a lot more of it that night. I was right. Jon leant over me and started cutting my clothes. After ripping my top and bra off, he began hacking at my jeans.

‘ You can fuck off you cunt, these are my favourite pair’. I couldn’t believe I’d just said that. Here I was, tied up, nearly naked, totally vulnerable and I was worried about my jeans? I know they say that fear does strange things to a person, but still.

My head snapped to the left as Jon backhanded me. Putting his head down to face me, he stared at me for just a second and spat in my face.

I lay still after that. My jeans were cut off, along with the bonds that held together my wrists and ankles. My arms were grabbed and I was pulled to my feet. One of the lads held my arms behind my back while the rest all stared at me. Eventually Grant came over and started running his hands over me. I stared right through him. I was soon brought back to my senses as he forced 2 fingers inside me. With a start I realised I was getting wet. Grant smiled at me and I glared back at him. Bringing his hand up to my mouth, he brushed his fingers across my lips. I refused to open up. He laughed softly and pinched my nose. I struggled for about 20 seconds, then gave up and opened my mouth. Grant immediately rammed his fingers in, shoving my head back against the shoulder of the man who was holding my arms. He, in turn, nudged my head to one side and bit down hard on my neck. My eyes opened wide and I let out a muffled scream. Grant pushed his fingers back in me, keeping one hand securely in my mouth. I could feel him pushing more in me, stretching me. 2, then 3 fingers. He tried pushing a fourth in, but I was too tight. He kicked my legs further apart to try and gain more access. Groaning in frustration, he pulled both hands from me, ripped me away from the guy who was biting me on the neck and threw me on the floor.

I landed heavily and slid a few inches. I sat up, and started to stand but I weren’t going nowhere. In a second grant was on me, pushing me back down, 1 hand across my throat, the other fumbling with his cock as he found my hole and rammed himself into me. I tried to scream, beg for mercy, anything to get him out of me. His eyes were half shut and he had a grin on his face ‘fuck she’s so fucking tight, you gotta feel this.’

Jon laughed ‘Mike said she used to be a hooker, feel like a whore to you mate?’. All he got was a series of groans as Grant fucked me harder and harder. I let out a squeak as he wrapped his hands round my throat and squeezed hard. I could feel my eyes rolling up into my head, and just as my world was turning black, he pushed himself deep in me, tearing me slightly, and came hard, filling me up. He released me and rolled off as I curled into a ball, coughing and trying to get my breath back. I lay there for a few minutes and listened to them talking and laughing.

‘Nothing like a hooker, tight as a virgin. You can easy see why Mike’s with her, no doubt’. Grant was busy telling the others how I was. I tuned out. Of course I was still tight. Did exercises all the time. Still do now.

 

Coming to my senses, I realised they were all distracted. Slowly inching my way backwards, towards the door, I gradually stood up. Pausing for a second, I saw none of them were watching me, turned and ran for the door. Grabbing the handle, I yanked it- and nothing. I yanked it again, harder this time. Still nothing. By this point they’d noticed me. I felt one of them smack into me, pinning me against the door, knocking the wind out of me. I was spun round and slammed back against the door. As the cold metal touched my bare ass, I bucked forwards slightly. This one took that as an invitation and reached down to grab my cunt. I shifted from side to side to avoid him. Growling in frustration he drew his fist back and smacked me full no in the face. I felt my cheekbone give and screamed in pain. He threw me on the floor and shouted to Jon to chuck him the knife. Jon threw the knife and it clattered on the floor, barely missing me. The lad picked it up, forced me on my back and knelt over my chest, pinning my arms with his knees. He put the blade across my throat and pushed down with both hands, cutting into me, drawing blood. I still bear the scar now, nearly 2 years after it happened.

Staring up into his manic eyes, feeling the blade slicing through my skin, I lost control of my emotions and burst into tears. Struggling to get free, flailing around, I could feel the knife going deeper but I was hysterical by this point. Jon rushed forward and dragged him off me

‘What the fuck Pete? You wanna kill her? That’s not our agreement. You either get in on it and fuck her or you can fuck off. What’s it going to be?’

His eyes were bright and manic with lust ‘Her ass is mine’.

I heard these words and pulled myself to my feet, 1 hand around the wound in my throat that was seeping blood. I’d never done anal willingly before, but at least the others were gentle to a certain degree. I knew this would be brutal.

I launched myself at the door, grabbing the handle, trying to force it open again. It wouldn’t budge. I saw the window and ran for it. I was a lot fitter in them days, could outrun anyone. Unfortunately, I was also a lot shorter and it didn’t matter how much I jumped, I couldn’t reach it. The lads watched for a while, then all of a sudden that maniac, Pete as I now knew him, was on me, forcing me face down on the floor. I screamed as his hand pushed against my broken cheekbone- fuck that hurt while it was healing. I felt him push against it once more and blacked out from the pain.

When I came round it felt like hours had passed, although it must have only been a few minutes. Pete had rolled me on my back and was astride my chest once more. I felt his weight pressing on me and my eyes snapped open. I soon wished they’d hadn’t because I was faced with his cock. Fuck, it was massive! Not so much the length, but the girth was huge! He got a fistful of my hair and pulled my head towards his dick.

‘Now then bitch, I’m going to fuck your ass. Nothing you can do about it. But I’m going to give you the chance to make it easier on yourself. What do you say?’

‘You watch too many gangster movies’. Fucking Hell, there we go again, fear was running my mouth once more. It was true though. He was talking like a wannabe gangster. A really crap one.

His eyes blazed with rage and he flipped me onto my stomach ‘Fuck you, you cunt. If you’re going to talk shit to me, you deserve everything you get.’

With that the parted my cheeks and shoved his cock deep in my ass. The shock literally rendered me speechless for a few seconds until the white hot agony flowed through me. I found my voice again and screamed. And screamed. And screamed again. Pete stayed still for a few minutes, adjusting to the feel. Then started slamming in and out of me hard. This wasn’t sex, wasn’t a shag or a fuck. This was rape, pure and simple. Their way of telling me I was theirs to use as they wanted.

I carried on screaming as I fought to get away, I began to panic again, I could feel my blood dripping from my throat, pooling on the floor. Pete grabbed my hair and yanked my head sideways. He spat on me and started punching me, calling me everything he could think of. He paused for a moment and beckoned Grant over ‘Sit in front of her, she can’t scream if she’s sucking your cock.’ Grant dropped down in front of me and sat down. Pete smacked my face against the floor and I screamed again as my cheekbone connected with the hard concrete. I began to struggle again as Grant grabbed my hair and forced my head down towards his cock. I held my breath once more to avoid having to suck it- under normal circumstances I like giving head and I love being face fucked, but these were not normal circumstances- as I quickly exhaled, he forced his cock past my lips. I tensed up as I tried to breathe and Pete obviously enjoyed this as he started fucking me even harder than before. Grant wrapped his hands round the back of my head and pushed down hard as he forced his hips up. I gagged and tried to push myself away from him but he was too strong. I pushed against his thighs, trying to get some leverage. I let out a muffled scream as my arms were yanked behind me and my tits hit the floor. That I could deal with. Concrete rubbing my nipple piercing was agony however. As I fell forwards my throat was impaled even more onto Grant. As my throat muscles spasmed in panic, Grant started fucking my face- hard. He was obviously enjoying the feeling as I panicked. I could feel myself going dizzy and everything took on a muffled and muted sound. All my senses were hyped up, but it was like everything had slowed down and I was acutely aware of everything going on around me. Grant slammed his hips up once more and started coming, forcing me to swallow every last drop, just as Pete emptied his balls into my ass. Then, mercifully, darkness swallowed me.

I awoke with a start. I ached all over and had a raging headache. My mouth was dry but sticky and I had a lingering taste at the back of my throat. Then it all came back to me and I burst into tears again. Through my choking sobs I realised a few things. I was now on a bed. Chained to it to be more precise but anything was better than concrete. And I had my collar on. Let me explain about my collar. I love my collar. It’s black leather with rounded silver studs on it. I bought it from a Goth stall at a county fair when I was 14 and since that day it’s gone everywhere with me. Kinda like a security thing. I always had it on me, either wearing it, or having it in my pocket. God knows why but I loved it. Now I was starting to regret buying the damn thing. Bit late for regrets now though.

I looked around the room, trying to get my bearings. I calmed down a bit when I realised I recognised it. Couldn’t place it, but I recognised it and that soothed me some. Testing my bonds I realised I could get out of them without too much fuss. Handy being a mini-Houdini sometimes! After fiddling around for a few minutes and trapping my skin a lot, I wriggled free. Sitting up I pulled the leg restraints off and stood up. I felt a bit wobbly and nearly gagged when I felt the congealed blood round my throat. I fought the urge to throw up and moved towards the door. Twisting the handle I was surprised to find it was unlocked- they obviously didn’t think I would be capable of getting loose. Mike should have warned them better than that. Even so, after finding the door opened so easily, I should have been on my guard but I got lax. I moved quickly down the corridor. I knew this place from somewhere but I didn’t know where. That was my big mistake. I wasn’t concentrating. All of a sudden I was pinned against the wall and found myself staring up at my boyfriend, Mike. Now I knew where I was. This was his mate Joey’s house!

‘Enjoy your little trip bitch?’ He grabbed my hair and threw me on the floor. My cheekbone hit the ground and I fought the urge to scream. I knew that would only make him worse. I curled up into a ball as he started kicking me, humming as he did. I felt red hot waves of pain shoot through me as his boot broke 2 of my ribs. I bit my lip to stay silent. He rolled me on my back and put a foot across my throat, choking me, pushing on my wound. I struggled beneath him, but still did not make a sound. Dropping down on top of me, he sighed and lit a fag. I flinched as he flicked ash onto me. Leaning back, he rested his full weight on my stomach.

‘Don’t’.

‘Don’t what?’

‘I’m serious Mike, don’t lean on my stomach, please’.

‘Why the fuck not? Don’t tell me what to do you whore’.

‘I’m pregnant’. He took a long drag on his cig.

‘You fucking what?’

‘I’m 3 months gone. I did a test last week, it came up positive so I had a scan at the hospital. I’m 3 months gone. We’re having a baby Mike. I was waiting for the right time to tell you’.

He slowly sat up. I though I had him there. I knew how much he wanted kids. All of a sudden I felt a searing pain on my right breast and my head exploded in a cloud of pain. He’d burnt me with his cigarette and booted me in the head. I could taste blood where I’d bit my lip and tongue. He grabbed me by my collar, dragging me up and throwing me against the wall again.

‘You was waiting for the right time to tell me? When exactly was going to be the right time? Not that it matters, I’m not having a kid with a whore.’

I heard a click and felt the cold metal of a gun barrel pressed against my belly. Threaten me and hurt me, fine. Do it to my baby, my unborn baby and you’ll pay. I saw red and snapped.

‘The only reason I’m a whore is because you made me into one Mike. You was the one that was pimping me out to all your mates! You were the one that wanted the fucking money, not me. Now get out of my way you tosser!’ I screamed at him and slapped him. Ignoring the pain coursing through my whole body I shoved him as hard as I could and ran. Anywhere just to get away from him. Running down the stairs, I pulled the front door handle- shit. Locked. I sprinted through the living room door to get to the patio door when I felt my collar being pulled back. I let out a strangled yelp, felt a hand go round my mouth and Joey whispering in my ear

‘My turn’.

I froze on the spot. He pulled me tight against him and I could feel his hard on. He started licking and kissing my neck. I winced as his lips brushed over my torn and bruised skin. All of a sudden, I found myself stumbling forwards to the middle of the room, falling over a coffee table and gashing my leg. Feeling dazed, I rolled over and lay there stunned for a few minutes. I sat up and saw Joey come flying towards me. He smacked me in the face, but by this point I was in too much shock to scream or care. I saw Mike come into the room and he stood over me smirking.

I looked up at him, too broken and too much in pain to even care what he did. He crouched down by my head and I flinched as he stroked my hair.

‘Aww baby. You’re a mess. But you bring it on yourself. If you just did as you were told, you’d be ok’. With that he stood up and walked away. Without a backward glance he told Joey ‘Do what you like. I don’t give a shit.’

Joey smiled at me and I felt his hands round my throat. That was the last thing I remember.

When I came out of my coma I was told I had multiple injuries- knife wounds, numerous broken bones, lacerations and swelling on the brain that would leave permanent bruising and has also resulted in my short term memory being shot to Hell. The baby, our baby, Mine and Mike’s baby, survived it all. What she didn’t survive was 2 months later a fight that me and Mike had resulting in him kicking me in the stomach. At 5 months pregnant, I miscarried.

What I want to know, for my own peace of mind is what happened in them missing hours? Something else must have happened, because I didn’t have a lot of the injuries that I ended up with before I blacked out. Why can’t I remember what? Any ideas how I can?