Fuck yourself

Arabella's POV

Time lost value and blurred together. I didn't know if it was minutes, hours or days since my torture had begun.

I could no longer scream, my throat was hoarse and my voice was gone. I held on to consciousness by a thin rope. Or more appropriately consciousness held onto me. Anytime I was on the brink of losing consciousness, he made sure to bring me back. To stimulate my senses again. To make sure I was aware and fully cognizant as the pain threshold mounted.

He had a lot of experience with this it would seem. Because he continually kept me on the brink, I lost all sense of self. I think I would have told him all I knew already if I didn't hate him as much as I loved him.

The little food in me came up as I projectile puked. Some still got on my clothes soiling them.

The pain soared and lulled. Rising in waves and carrying me along as an unwilling passenger.

The pain stopped and the absence of pain seemed like a different pain on its own because I knew the relief was o