The fourth night felt heavier than the others. Priya woke before dawn with her body already aching in anticipation. The bruises from Dev’s hands had turned deep purple on her hips and thighs. The bite marks on her boobs were dark, tender when she brushed against them while dressing. Between her legs her pussy was still sensitive—swollen from the rough fucking, but wet again the moment she thought of him. She touched herself lightly in the dark, fingers circling her clit slow, remembering how he made her piss like an animal. She came quietly, biting her pillow so her father wouldn’t hear.

All day she moved like someone in a dream. Washing dishes, feeding the goats, fetching firewood—every task made her aware of her body. Her nipples rubbed raw against the rough cotton blouse. No bra again. The small carved “D” above her pussy mound stung when sweat ran into it. She liked the pain. It kept her wet.