Page 35 of Brutal

If I’m leaning over the tub, that means my head will be hanging directly above the water. Every movement could send me dipping into it and drowning all over again.

I look up at him, and I swallow my pride to say, “Please. Not in the tub.”

“No, please,” he mocks me. “Not in the tub.” He shakes his head, pulling at my hair again. “Get the fuck out of the tub and lean over it, Mimi. Maybe if you’re good, I won’t dunk your head in it.”

I could still fight him off. I could attempt to drown him, to see how he likes it.

But instead, I get out of the tub and bend over the side. The hard porcelain digs into my stomach, and I stare at the murky water just beneath my face.

Brutal hums in what I assume must be approval, and he spreads my ass cheeks. “Cunt or ass?” he asks, though I’m not sure he’s really giving me a choice. I hear him pulling down his sweatpants behind me, and his hard cockhead slides along my ass cheek, slick with precum.

He’s been getting hard from nearly drowning me.

I can’t do anything to stop this, just like I couldn’t do anything to stop the many men who abused me before. I go for my usual method that got me through these things—imagining everything that’s wrong with these men.

Brutal has been making it easy for me, too. Men who are sure of themselves don’t get this upset over a little backtalk. Men who have no issues don’t worry about somebody psychoanalyzing them.

He even admitted to having serious issues — trauma.

He’s been asking all about my past, but now I wonder about what his could have been. I never read about Drake Brutal, but there must be articles about this entrepreneur. The man who has his fingers on the pulse of the tech world and made himself billions in the process.

“I said, cunt or ass?” he asks with a slap to my ass, breaking into my thoughts. “Jesus, Mimi, fucking pay attention to me or I’ll have to get your attention again.”

“Cunt,” I answer tonelessly, narrowly avoiding dunking my nose into the water.

“Yeah, that’s what I figured you’d say. You’re so vanilla.” He smooths his hands over my ass cheeks, but to my surprise, he lines his cock up with my cunt instead of my ass. His harsh thrust inside of me sends my face into the water, but he lets up quickly enough.

I sputter from the sudden but now-familiar sensation of being unable to breathe, and I can’t help but be grateful that it lasted such a short amount of time.

This time.

“This is what you’re made for,” Brutal mutters, rhythmically fucking into me. “Not backtalk, not sassing. Just taking my cock up your cunt.”

My backtalk and sass bother him.

I hold my breath as I’m dunked under once more. It lasts longer, but it’s still manageable.

The worst thing about all of this is that I can feel myself getting wet. His thrusts get smoother, and his cock starts to feel good sliding along my inner walls.

Just a natural reaction, I remind myself. We’d learned about this in one of my classes.

It doesn’t make it any easier to handle.

He fucks into me erratically, pushing my face under water again and again. He doesn’t seem focused on drowning me now, at least; it almost seems accidental, for all that I know he’s getting off on it.

It doesn’t even take long before he’s shoving my head under the water while he comes, filling me while I struggle to hold my breath.

It’s only when he’s completely done that he lets me up again, and I come up with a sputtering gasp, trying to get control of myself again.

He pulls out of me, and I slump down onto the floor next to the tub. His cum trickles out of me onto the bathmat.

I stare up at him listlessly, wondering if we’re done—hoping that we’re done. I don’t know how much more I could possibly take.

Brutal tucks his cock away, whistling cheerfully. “Okay. You have some cleaning to do. I’ll be in the living room. Don’t bother me until everything is cleaned up.” He glances at my feet. “First aid kit is under the sink.” His smile is nasty. “But then, you know that, don’t you? Bandage your fucking feet so you don’t get more blood all over the place.”

He leaves, not bothering to close the door behind him.

I wait until he’s well out of sight before I lean against the tub and start sobbing, unable to stop myself.