Chapter 21.

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♡George pov♡

It's concerning how fast I submitted to their evil ways. I've been used so many times in the short period I've been here it doesn't even hurt anymore. I don't cry. I don't fight. I don't talk. I lay there and take it because that's what they want me to do.

If I'm a good boy, they won't hurt me.

"Kiss me."

I kissed the man who was currently using my body.

It's not my body anymore. They own me. They can do whatever they want. I'm theirs.

He groaned loudly, and I felt him release into me. He got himself dressed, and I just stared up at the ceiling, waiting for the next man.

"Do you want a break, George?"

"Only if you want me to have a break, sir." I mumbled in response.

They don't like it when I talk loudly. Actually, I'm not allowed to speak unless I'm spoken to.

"Hmmm. Should you have a break?"

I continued my stare on the ceiling.

The ceiling has become comforting. It's white tiles with black stains that were more than likely mold. If I stare at it long enough, my mind takes me somewhere else, and I like that. I like not having to be present.

"You can have a break from sex."

He unlocked the shackles on my ankles. I waited for him to do my wrists but he didn't.

The fuck?

I heard the sound of metal scraping on the cement. I slowly sat up and saw him holding a crowbar.

"I know you've been a good boy, but I just need to make sure you can never leave us, okay?"

No, no, no. No. Fuck.

I crawled backward, away from him. He raised the crowbar above his head and brought it down hard. He missed.

"Don't move away from me, bitch."

He swung and hit my right ankle. I cried out in pain. He hit it again, and I heard a loud crack.

Fuck. It's broken. He broke my fucking ankle.

I laid down on the cement, screaming and sobbing from the pain. He raised the crowbar above his head again and swung hard at my left ankle. I felt it shatter. He didn't have to swing twice to destroy the bone. He scoffed.

"I didn't think it would bleed."

My body was shaking so badly from the pain in my ankles.

I've never felt anything this painful before. It fucking hurts so bad.

"Do you want drugs for the pain?"

"Yes, sir." I replied, voice shaky.

He left the room. I didn't dare look at my destroyed ankles. I didn't want to see what he had done. He soon came back with a bottle of alcohol.

"We ran out of the drugs. You can just drink this."

He pulled my shorts up and helped me sit up. It was painful due to the sexual abuse. He handed me the bottle.

"Drink what you want. You've been good."

His hand gently caressed my face, tilting my head up to look at him. He unlocked the shackles in my wrists so I could drink easier.

"I'll leave you to it then. If you rebel, you'll be locked back up. Got it, slut?"

I nodded.

"What do you say?"

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