happening. Lesipides raised his hand to hit me again. I grasped at his face, trying to stick my fingers in his eyes.

“Ugh,” I grunted, this time a closed fist knocking me in the temple, whipping my head to the side.

“You don’t defy me,” he growled.

Dizziness crept over me. My hands weakly struggled with him on autopilot. The world melted into hopelessness. My husband lifted his toga and used his free hand to guide himself into me. I clenched myself, but it only made it more painful.

I closed my eyes, turning my head from him as he began thrusting violently, my back scraping against the wooden floor. His angry grunts seemed to originate inside my head, unable to be ignored. He kept a hand on my throat, making me look in his gritted teeth snarling in...

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