My private part is in pains excruciatingly after his torture.
The man sneers and pulls his thing out of my body. He gets two tissues and wipes the blood on his
dick.
He looks me up and down, his eyes are full of anger.
“Jane Noyes, keep doing that, keep being like a dead fish. Maybe I will get tired of you after a few
times. Then you can get out of here, you can go to Steven Song, or Noah Jefferson, and your scumbag
ex-husband!”
I look at the man in front of me and truly feel funny. I even felt a bit reluctance to leave him, but now
that feeling disappears and turns into a strong hatred.
This man has no heart at all, and I'm not even a bed-warming tool to him!
“Frances Louis, I hate you!” I glare at him and speak with my gnashing teeth.
But why my heart hurts so badly?
It hurts so much that I can barely breathe, so painful that I'm on the verge of bursting into tears.
Even after being treated so roughly by Frances Louis, even though my private part hurts, I still didn't
want to cry. But now I couldn't hold back my tears.
The man puts on his pants, glances at me indifferently, and says, “It's not bad that I can be
remembered by you in this way.”
His cold words linger in my ears. He has already gone outside, and the door to the next room is swiftly
shut.
I slump softly and try to squat, but the private part hurts so much.
I have no choice but to go to the bathroom and check my private part. I find that it’s red and swollen.
I guess it is torn.
It dose not surprise me coz Frances Louis thrusts in without any foreplay, and his movements were so
rough and violent.
I don’t have dinner and Frances Louis doesn’t ask me to.
I know that I have thoroughly pissed him off. Well, like he said, he might really let me go if I pissed him
off a few more times.
I thought that a nice sleep would make my body feel better.
The next morning, I find that a slightly movement would pain me.
Having suffered a lot, I want to treat my body nicely, so I change my clothes and go to the hospital.
When I come downstairs, Frances Louis is sitting on the couch, talking on the phone.
I pretend not to see him and walk past him.
I take a cab and head to the hospital.
But because of the pain, I don’t dare to sit down, so I have to lean half-squat against the seat.
The woman driver sees my posture and asks, “Are you suffering from hemorrhoids?”
I am stunned, then nod.
The vagina lacerations seem more humiliating than the hemorrhoids.
Finally arriving at the hospital, I register for department of gynecology. There are a dozen people
outside the door and I couldn't sit down, so I have to stand there, waiting anxiously.
“Jane Noyes.” Finally, the speaker calls my name.
It is quite embarrassing to come to the Gynecology Clinic, so I walk in with my head down and sit down
in front of the doctor.
“What's your matter?” The doctor asks.
It is a man's voice!
I look up in shock and see a serious and upright face. The male doctor is around thirty years old from
his appearance. Although he looks righteous, I still feel embarrassed, and it is a long time before I
whisper blushingly, “lacerations.”
“I'll check your wound’s condition.”
The male doctor says, getting up from his seat and walking towards the ward behind.
I stand there awkwardly, but I couldn't move my feet.
Although I know that doctors have professional ethics, I am resistant to having a strange man examine
my private part.
“Be quick. There are so many patients waiting outside.”
The male doctor frowns and says in a deep voice.
I stand up and reluctantly head to him.
I lie down on the bed, feeling sweaty all over my body.
“Are you sure, you want her to take her pants off in front of you? Don't you want your eyes?”
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