InsaneJournal

By Wednesday, Clio was ravenous. She took back not caring about having food kept from her. Especially when Martin still ate three times a day, like clockwork, at his tiny table which was well out of reach. She could smell his meals and see him enjoying them and all she could do was lie there.

Lie there and dream about food. About souvlaki with rich tzatziki and dolmades steamed just right. Pita dipped in oil and hummus. Ambrosia. Hell, if she was getting nostalgic about food, might as well yearn for the food of the gods.

It had been days and finally Clio risked it. She sat up as Martin headed towards the kitchen for lunch and she waved to get his attention. “You want something?” he asked, turning around to watch her, looking bored. Clio put her hand on her belly, rubbing it slowly. Then she made her hands into a pleading sign. Please feed me. You asshole. She may not have signed that last part.

“How can I know you’re not going to misbehave again?” he asked, arching an eyebrow at her. Clio mimed a halo around her head. Hey, if it worked for Patrick. She was going to behave. At least until she had something in her belly. Her ribs ached with hunger. She hated his fucking guts and she was going to find a way out of this, but immediate needs first.

“Take your shirt off,” Martin said, and Clio’s eyebrows headed skywards. Was he serious? “If you say you’re going to behave, take your fucking shirt off.”

Clio was not a shy person. She knew her body was gorgeous, and she had gotten around sans clothing a lot of the time in ancient Greece. This was different. Here, clothes were like her armour. If she took them off, what was he going to do?

But she was so hungry-

She looked at him blankly for more than a minute and then, finally, she groaned and pulled her shirt over her head, tossing it to the mattress behind her.

“Ah, see, women can be logical,” Martin said. He went to grab a pear and he tossed it to her. It wasn’t enough to sate her raging hunger, but when Clio bit into it, the juices running down her chin, she thought it was the finest thing she had ever eaten. “Now,” Martin said, when she had finished, “take off your bra.”

Clio’s jaw firmed and she shook her head no. Fuck him.

“You have two choices here. Take it off and I give you something else to eat or leave it on and I shock you and you can forget about meals for a week,” Martin growled at her.

Clio narrowed her eyes and she glared at him, but it was the most rebelling she could really do. Because he had given her a ‘choice’, but it wasn’t really a choice, was it? Shaking, she slowly reached back behind her to undo the clasp and remove her bra. When she pulled it away from herself, she couldn’t look at him.

“Very nice, professor,” Martin said, and shame and hate warred in Clio’s heart. Her cheeks and ears burned red, and she wished he would knock her out or something. She could see what was coming and she had no defense against it. She couldn't scream for help. She had screamed when he shocked her and no one had come. She had the feeling there was no one in earshot, even if she didn't understand how that was possible since this was an apartment building- If he would knock her out...if she wasn’t awake for what was coming, then she didn’t have to remember-

When she heard him speak again, he was right next to her and it made her jump. “Lie down, professor. Back against the mattress. Good,” he said, when she complied. Then he reached down to tug at the waistband of her skirt and leggings, and he pulled them off too. Finally, he removed her knickers, and she was lying there, naked and without defense. She rolled her eyes up to the ceiling and she stared at it, trying to drift away. Take her mind away.

“Just lay still and you can have a meal after,” Martin said, but Clio hardly heard him. She was talking to Patrick- Keeping her mind on him so she didn’t have to feel-

I wish you were here. I think it’s been five days? I miss you and I miss Will and I want to hold Ella so badly. It’s awful, Pat. It’s awful here. I’m hungry and miserable and he’s- Fuck. Fuck-

…

I’m going to let Apollo have him. I’m going to let him curse the man and send him to Tartarus. Patrick, please- I want him torn limb from limb. I want his skin flayed off. I want his insides torn out of him while he’s still alive. I want his genitals fed to him. I want- Ow. Fuck fuck, Patrick- I hate this. I hate him.

Good thoughts.

Distracting thoughts.

Like the cabin we went to for your feast day.

The tree you tried to fuck because you thought it was a dryad.

Ella’s birth.

When you finally realised I liked you.

Ireland, when Ella was so very small.

Eating grapes in bed. You pretending to be a grape walrus.

You lighting a fire and then when we-

I can’t do this. I can’t do this, Patrick-

“Stop!” Clio yelled, unable to hold her tongue. She was a fucking goddess; was she really going to lie here and take this from a goddamned mortal?! She felt his strong hand slam over her mouth and another arm grab her wrists, holding them above her head. Three more thrusts and a shout and he was spent, rolling to her side with a grunt.

Clio squeezed her eyes shut and willed herself not to cry.

Silence consumed them for what felt like forever, though it was probably only a few minutes. Then, shakily, she said, “you- you promised me a meal-“ She felt dreadful, violated, pathetic. But goddammit, she wanted something to eat.

“Yeah yeah, give me a second. You’ll get your food. And shut the fuck up. Your voice is annoying.”

Clio clamped her jaw shut and she stared up at the ceiling, darkness stealing into her heart.