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Damaged Goods: A Novel of Romance and Violation
by Melissa Harlow
Category: Erotica/Erotic Romance
Description: Michelle was in love with Gregg Matthews, who had suffered a devastating accident that left him paralyzed from the waist down, frustrated by his limitations, especially his inability to make love. On the rebound Michelle married the wrong man, an abuser who tormented her physically and sexually, then sold her as a sex slave to Duane, a drug dealer, to pay off his drug debt. Forced to serve Duane any way he wants her to--and Duane likes to tie his women up and do some very bad things to them--Michelle knows her dreams of being rescued by Gregg are mere fantasy. What she doesn't know is that someone else has a plan, a plan to kidnap Michelle, hoping that if Gregg has just one more chance with her he will finally admit his love. But even when they are brought together, Gregg believes she only wants to stay with him to escape her husband and Duane, and he is still unable to admit he is hopelessly love with Michelle. He is certain no woman could love a man who is incapable of having sex. She thinks he doesn't want her because she is damaged goods. Meanwhile, her husband and Duane are looking for her. By the author of Moiter Foux.
eBook Publisher: Renaissance E Books/Sizzler Editions,
eBookwise Release Date: September 2009

16 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [139 KB]
Words: 31007 Reading time: 88-124 min.

Michelle pulled her car into the driveway. It hadn't been a great night at work, but things were already looking better. Robert wasn't home. Robert had been on a real rampage lately, and things were getting worse every day.
She took a bath and went straight to bed, hoping Robert would stay at his girlfriend's house for the whole night.
She was sound asleep when he came in the room several hours later. She could smell the whiskey on his breath when he woke her.
"Michelle, wake up."
She lay still, pretending to still be sleeping, praying he'd go away.
He didn't. "Get up Michelle." His voice was still low and calm, but she felt her stomach twist in fear, she knew how cruel Robert could be.
"Robert, please leave me alone?" she asked softly.
He jerked her head up from the pillow by her hair.
"When are you going to learn when I tell you to do something I mean it? Get up. Duane's on his way here."
"Robert!" a voice called from the kitchen. "Where's the vodka?" It was Candy. Robert had brought his whore girlfriend home with him again. He'd brought her home with him last night too. Michelle still had painful welts on her back from Robert beating her with an extension cord because she had refused to perform oral sex on Candy. It was only a matter of time before he got high and it would happen again. She already knew that eventually he'd force her to do it.
"I'll be out in a minute, baby. I got to get Michelle up." It sickened Michelle that he talked to Candy in that sweet, kind voice.
Michelle fought back the sob in her throat and sat up. "I'm up Robert, you can go."
"You're a lucky girl, Michelle, I'm going to let you fuck Duane again tonight." He didn't speak to her in a kind voice. It had been a long time since he had. He always sounded smug and superior. She heard him walk out of the room.
Michelle could hear him and Candy out in the kitchen talking and laughing, as she lay in bed. She sobbed quietly, afraid to make a sound, afraid Robert would remember she was here and come back in the room. She had to pee, but she was too afraid to get up and go across the hall to the bathroom.
She'd run away last month, but Robert had brought her back. Over and over for the past year if she left, Robert would bring her back, and beat her even more.
The sexual torture had begun several months ago with Duane, Robert's friend. Duane gave him drugs, and Michelle's services paid for them. They had abused her together. Sometimes in unison, sometimes one would watch as the other tried to humiliate her more than the other. Roy was next, "A cock for every hole," Robert had told her. Robert had rules about his friends fucking her. They weren't allowed to kiss her or come in her, and they weren't allowed to make her come. Roy, more than once, had fucked her so hard she bled.
There was no pleasure left in her world.
She laid in bed, curled in a ball, waiting in fear for Duane's arrival.
Her last sanctuary was work, tending bar at Duke's, under the watchful eye of Robert or his friends. She hated Robert, used to dream of killing him. Now she thought more and more about killing herself.
She dozed, a light dreamless sleep. She heard the bedroom door open and in the dim light from the hall she could see Duane coming into the room. He sat heavily on the bed beside her. She lay still, on her stomach.
"Michelle, are you awake?" he said, he laid his hand on her back and Michelle shrieked in pain as his hand touched the welts from the extension cord.
"What's wrong?" he asked, and she almost felt he was genuinely concerned.
"It hurts, oh god, it hurts so bad" she cried wriggling away from his hand. He turned on the light switch and the lights on the ceiling fan illuminated the room with blinding brightness. She heard him sharply draw his breath.
"What the fuck happened?" he said angrily.
She couldn't answer, she could only cry.
She heard Robert's voice then, she could tell he was high. He spoke excitedly, and fast.
"Get up Chelle. It's time for some fun."
"What the hell happened to her back?" Duane asked.
"She needs to learn when I tell her to do something she's gonna do it," Robert replied. "Chelle get up. I want your ass out in the living room."
Michelle stood stiffly, still crying. "I have to pee first," she said meekly.
"Hurry up," Robert said. "Put on those black shoes I like.
She didn't want to hurry, but she did. When she went into the living room Robert was on his knees in front of Candy, licking her, his fingers were buried in her pussy and she was writhing her hips.
"I'm ready, Robert, please fuck me" Candy moaned. Robert slid his fingers out of her and Michelle saw his wedding ring, glistening wet from Candy's cunt.
She didn't see anything else then, she only remembered the distant memory of a different Robert--a man who bought her flowers, opened doors for her ... the man who got down on one knee and asked her to marry him. It had all been a lie. This Robert was high all the time, he didn't treat her like a wife, he treated her like a whore. She felt like a whore.
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