I do not own iCarly. If I did, the show would be all about Spencer whacking Spanky with a broom. This story is not meant to be taken the least bit seriously; if you somehow find it "romantic" or "sweet", I hate you.

iFreddie

Samantha Puckett... What is she to me? She is... a truly repugnant, worthless person. And to her, I am even less. So why? Why do I consider her a friend? She relentlessly assaults me with a torrential cascade of physical and emotional brutality. Insults. Wedgies. Bludgeoning with metallic objects. Why do I let her do this to me? I used to wonder this constantly. Why? I now know. It's because... I secretly crave it.

I'm trapped... trapped in a tiny world of safety and control that my mother has created for me. I'm tormented by the tedium she imposes upon me in the name of love. I'm sick of it. I long for chaos. I long for pain. I long for release, and I find it in Sam.

I yearn for her filthy words to caress my soul with their sweet, disgraceful embrace. I ache for the cold touch of her unfeeling hands as they defile my skin, leaving their black and blue love marks.

I used to constantly fantasize about Carly. Dear, sweet Carly, who was never mean, ever loyal. But now, my thoughts turn only to Sam. My hours away from her are spent in anticipation of my next pummeling, when my soul will awaken from its slumber and take flight into the blessed abyss.

Ever resourceful, she picks up a nearby coffee mug and slams it into my skull. I cry in agony and pleasure. She smiles and wails it down upon me once more. I crumble to the ground, sobbing. She calls me a scum-sucking goat, then she delivers the final blow with a power that shatters the mug to pieces.

"Yes!" I cry loudly before I can stop myself. Sam's smile vanishes. I realize in horror that I've let my secret slip. At first I worry she'll cease her beatings now that she knows I enjoy them as much as she does. But the revelation sinks in, and her smile returns. Our thoughts and souls align. At this moment, a dark flower blossoms. At this moment, my life begins.

From this point on, Sam and I meet in a secluded alley near the apartment complex after every webcast, away from the gazes of Carly and my oh-so-dear mother. Our hearts become one as she beats me senseless. Pain and pleasure swirl together to become one transcendent, invigorating sensation. This feeling gives me purpose. I'm truly alive. Sam provides me with the release I need from my horrid restraints, and in return, I give her the release she needs for the violence that builds up inside her.

Of course my mother sees the love marks when I return home, and she goes into her apoplectic fits of protection and care. I tell her I fell down.

She's such a nuisance. I don't need her anymore, and deep down I'm sure she knows it. That must be why she overcompensates. That must be it. It makes me sick. I wish I could just be rid of her.

I get an idea. As soon as I'm free from my mother's clutches, I grab the phone, dial Sam, and make her an offer: her first full release.

Tonight I smile and savor the screams, knowing they're the last time I'll ever hear them.

Tonight I am free.