"You ain't a bad lookin' Sheila, ya know. Are you a
party girl?" He pressed his mouth to hers, his tongue probing at her
tightly closed lips. He punched her in the stomach, and when she
gasped he thrust his tongue into her mouth. He shoved his hand down
the back of her panties, pulling her hips into him in a parody of desire.
Star's muffled cries, the sounds of flesh against
flesh, and the knowledge of what the Reaver was doing to her pushed
Wolverine into a berserker fury. He lunged, twisting against his
bonds. He felt muscles tearing, but the metal sleeves didn't give an
inch. He screamed with rage, and continued to fight for freedom.
Star whimpered when the Reaver finally finished with
her. She felt her tears mixing with her blood as they flowed down her
cheeks. He looked down at her with contempt.
"A real woman woulda either enjoyed that or had my
nuts for a necklace." She turned to her side, drawing her knees up
against all the pain. "But I forgot, you ain't nothin' but a feeb, are
ya?" He chuckled nastily, exploring her body with his eyes, somehow
making her feel even dirtier than had his actual touch. "And you ain't
got enough marks on ya to make the Lady happy." He reached down and
grabbed her arm. The broken bones ground together in his grip, and
this time, at last, she did faint.
Continue....