She lay alone upon the bed, her abused body motionless save for the faint tremble that accompanied the stray tear that broke free from her restraint.
He stood straightening his hair and tie in the mirror atop her dresser. It was further insult in that she rarely brought herself to use it, such was her loathing of how she looked.
“It’s a pity you’re not a whore,” he said smiling as he reached for his overcoat. “You would at lest then have a few coin for your participation.”
Curling herself tightly, she clutched the sheet that had muffled her cries of pain during his actions. Her lipstick stained the parts she had bitten down on, whilst other areas were wet from tears she could no longer hold back.
Thankfully it was now over.