She stole glances at Akan’s face. She wanted to ask him how he had survived all these years, to tell him she was glad he was still alive. But after what she’d endured under Marquis Moss, she didn’t dare speak without permission. Her lips parted several times, but she swallowed the words, knowing the risks of disobedience. After all, she reminded herself bitterly, it was Akan who ordered them to ruin my voice.

Akan rested his elbows on the table, his chin on his hands. His violet eyes bored into hers, but there was no hate in them. If anything, they seemed empty, devoid of any emotion. His tone, however, was almost casual, like a weary friend addressing an old companion.

“Robellia, ten years ago my father and all my people were killed because of you.”

His words struck like a physical blow. Robellia winced, her shoulders hunched as she recoiled. She couldn’t defend herself, couldn’t even apologise. The rules silenced her, forced her to bow her head and accept the blame in silence.

Akan continued, his voice calm but without warmth.

“But it doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve killed everyone around you in return.”

The weight of his words hit Robellia like a punch in the gut. Her heart sank further as she realised the full extent of Akan’s vengeance. Her head remained bowed, tears welling in her eyes, but she couldn’t make a sound – not even a plea for forgiveness.

Akan reached out to Robellia, his fingers brushing the strands of hair that had fallen untidily across her face. He tucked it gently behind her ear, his touch soft but unbearably cold.

If anyone had a right to hate Robellia, it was Akan. His actions, however, were impossible to decipher. Robellia felt cold, sticky sweat trickle down her back as her body shook with tension.

“And you saved me.”

Then he smiled at her – a bright, innocent smile. But it wasn’t the smile Robellia remembered from her childhood. It was hollow, devoid of any real emotion, as if painted on his face. It held no warmth, no kindness – just a facsimile of what once existed.

Leaning forward slightly, Akan lowered his voice, his words laced with an eerie finality. 

“So I’ll save you too.”

In the next moment, his large hand shot out and wrapped around Robellia’s neck with brutal force. The pressure was immediate and overwhelming, cutting off her air in an instant. Panicking, Robellia clawed at his hand, her nails scratching and tearing at his skin, but he didn’t flinch. His grip was unyielding, merciless.

Robellia’s choked gasps turned to strangled gurgles as her body instinctively struggled for air. 

“Shh, Robellia, I can’t take noise.”

Robellia’s mind could no longer process what was happening. Her body instinctively fought for air, her neck craning back in a desperate attempt to breathe. The effort was futile – her vision quickly turned yellow and the ceiling seemed to spin wildly above her.

For a fleeting moment, her consciousness flickered, her body swaying as if caught in a violent current. Just as the edges of her consciousness began to fade, Akan’s grip loosened and a flood of air rushed into her lungs.

But the respite was brief. As soon as he released her throat, he grabbed her shoulders and pinned her to the table. His hand, which had just cut off her air, now pressed her torso firmly against the cold surface, holding her in place.

Robellia coughed violently, gasping for air, but the convulsions left her unable to recover. Her labouring, ragged breaths filled the room and her tears streamed uncontrollably down her face, smearing her cheeks. Akan’s hand suddenly clamped over her mouth, muffling the choking sounds. Her muffled cries mixed with the unstoppable flow of tears, her face a mess of fear and despair.

“The life you gave me… I give it back to you now.”

With one hand firmly on her back, Akan grabbed the hem of her nightgown and began to lift it. Robellia struggled wildly, her arms and legs flailing desperately, but it was no use. Even with one hand, Akan held her down with a force so unyielding that not even the table beneath them moved.

The hand that had lifted the hem of her nightgown now pulled her underwear down to her ankles. It was impossible for anyone to misunderstand what was happening. Robellia, forgetting the rule of silence, let out a heartbreaking sob.

“You’re not telling me to stop.”

His tone was almost mocking as he addressed Robellia, who could do nothing but cry. Her sobs soon turned into guttural, animal wails, but she still couldn’t bring herself to tell him to stop.

What kind of things filled Akan’s life as a slave? This is the answer.

Akan held Robellia’s body down and took out a bottle, opening the cap with his teeth. He tilted the bottle between Robellia’s n*ked b*ttocks and the slippery liquid flowed down her spine. Past her anus and into her tightly closed v*gina. The dry flesh quickly became oily and shiny.

His p*nis pressing against the blocked entrance forced Robellia’s v*gina open before she could even recognise its existence. The blunt end tore through Robellia’s v*gina like a tear in the flesh.

Even with the light lubrication on the surface, it couldn’t penetrate deep into the untouched interior, which had never been opened. The oil was for the intruder’s ease, not Robellia’s comfort. The tip of the p*nis was fully embedded in the raw, red flesh.

“Ugh! Ugh!”

Akan thrust two fingers into Robellia’s mouth as she groaned in pain. Her mouth instinctively closed around them, but he paid no attention to her teeth pressing into his skin, moving his fingers over her tongue without hesitation.

The gagging continued, accompanied by guttural moans of pain. Robellia made sounds like a slaughtered animal, her voice raw and strained.

“Hah.”

Akan exhaled briefly, catching his breath. Forcing his way into the unprepared, tender flesh was proving more difficult than he had expected. He had expected it to be easier, after all, this was a part of the body meant for such purposes – or so he thought.

Only the gl*ns was inserted, but Robellia’s entire body was drenched in cold sweat. Clucking his tongue briefly, Akan took a deep breath and immediately pulled Robellia’s pelvis in.

“……!”

The p*nis was deeply embedded in the dry inner wall, causing rough friction. Robellia couldn’t even scream from the unimaginable pain. The impact felt as if her stomach had been ripped open and her organs directly hit. Robellia’s limbs stiffened like a frog whose body had been trampled.

Akan furrowed his brow. The only part that benefited from the roughly poured lubricant was the most sensitive tip. The flesh of the sh*ft was also washed away and Akan was the same. In addition to the stiffness of the flesh, the pressure of the hardened v*ginal wall was no less than that of the rectum.

Akan exhaled and took another glass bottle from his chest. Half of the liquid he poured out stuck to Robellia’s p*bic hair and the rest flowed down the joint and down her thigh.

“Sigh, slurp. Slurp.”

As if that was the extent of his consideration, Akan moved his hips roughly back and forth. Each time he pulled back, Robellia’s dry flesh clung to him, pulling him outwards.

Ignoring this, he thrust forward again, causing the fluid that had begun to collect in her v*gina to seep further inside. In addition, Robellia’s body was slowly producing small amounts of moisture, apparently trying to reduce the friction.

Every time he thrust his p*nis, Robellia’s pitiful cries rang in Akan’s ears. It wouldn’t be as painful as the first time, but it was annoying that she kept whining. She didn’t even understand the situation and thought it would be okay if she continued to act like a fool.

“Shut up before I tear you apart.”