Battle Of Myself

"Oh my God! What have I done? Taking the virginity of a young woman who doesn't even know her name is unacceptable, even in my book, Troy thought to himself. She is probably suffering from hero worship or maybe Stockholm syndrome. With her curled into his side all boneless and sated, it is very hard to have any regrets, but the guilt he felt for taking advantage is going to eat him alive.

"Dammit, why hasn't Jake called me back yet"? He could have talked some sense into me. When he walked through the door to see her bent over showcasing all that pink, he had lost the last of his control. He'd never felt such a pull to a woman in his entire life, the needs to possess beyond all reason. He made love to her without protection, and at the moment of penetration, he couldn't breathe let alone think. She was made for him, and he couldn't protect her. Not that she would have to worry about her health from him because he had never gone unprotected. However, he didn't protect her from pregnancy, either. Troy had been having a hard time regretting the possibility that she could be pregnant anyway. Just days ago, he'd pictured her swollen with his child, and he wanted to kick his own ass for this selfish thoughts considering she was still mostly unconscious.

Jake is going to have a field day with this and maybe kick his ass for him. Jake has been the ultimate protector of women. Even when they used to share, he was always the nurturer while Troy just dominated and gave physical pleasure. Oh, Jake is dominant; too, except when Troy walks away, he stayed and cuddles.

For the first time in his life, he couldn't bring himself to walk away. He needed her in a way he'd never needed anyone before. He craved the tight clasp of her body to burn him every night and several times throughout the day. His body wants her hands stroking every inch while her mouth explores his cock. She is so small, but somehow her body opened up taking him inside, not easily, but perfectly. The grip she had on him was the most pleasure he had ever felt; "Great," just the thought of her has woken the beast, and he is up and ready to play. No way he's going to take advantage again. The next move will have to be hers to assuage the guilt he's feeling already.

Sliding out of bed slowly so as not to wake her, he threw on track pants and head to the kitchen for more solid food.

As he walks into the kitchen, his phone starts to buzz. Taking it out to check the caller is a waste of time because only a few people have that number. "Jake buddy, how are you?"

"Better than you I'm guessing. Sorry, I didn't call sooner, what's up, Mate?"

He walked out onto the porch so his voice doesn't carry through the house. "I need your help but can't discuss it over the phone. Can you meet me?"

Not sure if exposing her is the safest way to go about it, but he owes it to her to help her discover who she is and what happened to her. He knows Jake will be as discreet as possible and there's not much research he could do holed up on the mountain.

Jake is an undercover FBI. They have worked several cases together and through some horrible experiences have become like brothers.

"Sure thing. Same place, name a time?"

Trying to decide when would be the soonest he could leave her for a few hours, they decided on tomorrow at 3:00 pm. He needs to convince himself to keep his hands off of her until he could give her answers. It is well after the sun has gone down before he made his way back inside. Please, God, don't let me find out she has a boyfriend or that maybe she's engaged to be married. That is not something he considered while sinking deep inside her body. From the moment he found her, he'd considered her his, and nothing he finds out about her will change his mind on that. The lack of a ring on her finger is something that brings him peace.

It is pitch black by the time he moved inside and slowly made his way upstairs to check on her. Slowly pushing open the door, so he won't wake her, he stared at the vulnerable girl that he had taken advantage of. Guilt overwhelms him, so he decided to sleep in the guest room across the hall to give her some reprieve. How will she feel once she wakes up? Will she cry rape and demand he take her to safety? Troy became sick to his stomach when he crawled into bed. He leaves the door open, so he could hear her if she cries out in her sleep.

As the sun rises, orange hues slowly spread over the floor. With it comes a feeling of peace. Peace that she's safe and peace that she had found someone to cherish her. He looks at her as if she's his world and will do whatever it takes to keep her here. She stretched feeling soreness, but for once in all the right places.

A vision flashes through her mind of a tattooed hand raining blows upon her naked body. Using whatever instrument he has at his disposal, he strikes her back, abdomen, and thighs, all while telling her there can be no damage to her face.

He drags her across the floor by her hair, forcing her face into a bowl of water, telling her to drink like the pet she will become. He yells at her and told her that her sister is better behaved and will please her master greatly; that she will be lucky not to be locked away in a cage, only to be brought out for long, hard fucks then caged again. Crying and begging for him to let them go, he laughed in her face with his putrid breath and rotting teeth.

"Too much money." He says, "They want virgins, lots and lots of virgins. Do you know how hard it is to find virgins these days? They pay more for beautiful ones. I have watched you and your sister for months, and I know you two will fetch the best price".

She squeezed her eyes shut trying to block out the vision. "Oh my God! My sister is only twenty-one, and I'm twenty-three. She is so young and naïve. She doesn't deserve a fate like this. It is my fault we are in this mess because I convinced her to go to a bar with me for her 21st birthday. My dad begged us not to go, but I refused to listen. Telling him, "We are adults, Dad, nothing will happen to us." So who is the naive one now"?

Crying out, "no, no, no please don't touch me anymore, please just let me go," only to open her eyes to her beautiful, blue-eyed savior standing over her trying to shake her from the trance she was in. His face is grief-stricken and he lifts his hands in an 'I'm backing away gesture.' She wants him to hold her and make the vision go away, but the look he gives her is so full of grief and sorrow that she held back the words that will beg him for comfort.

"How much did I say? What has he heard? Does he know now that she was to be sold to the highest bidder? Does he believe her a whore who got what she deserved"? The look of disgust on his face says it all before he turned and storms from the room.