The noise and the whispers were suppressed by the snow who fell over the city, and her own steps didn't seemed to produce any sound while she walked over the streets. But the whispers weren't coming from anything made of flesh, not now. They were on her own memories, the old women talking badly of her behind her back. And despite she ignoring them, never creating a ruckus over them, they would still be there. Talking about how that "nice young lady" fell for the "worst scum in 500 miles". That he was using her as a object, a toy like a car or a doll, and that as soon he saw something younger and fleshier she was going to be discarded.
Maybe he was like a kid. And she was his stuffed toy, the only one hearing words he never would say to adults. Or maybe she was his dog, sadly barking as he had to leave, and he looked fearful because he felt guilty, like he had to mercifully execute her. He gave her headpats, no? He had to reassure her that he would go back, every time. After all, nobody else was waiting. No, father, no mother, no grandpa, no aunt, no uncle, and specially no brother.
She kept her head up. These people whispering behind her said they felt pity. What a joke. They felt no pity for her. It was just the socially acceptable thing to say.
The truth was much dirtier. They saw her as a whore, a prostitute. No, prostitutes ask for money. She was for free. They invented friends he didn't have and thought of her sucking the dicks of these imaginary, faceless entities. Maybe these old bitches wanted these imaginary dick for themselves.
Getting out of her thoughts, she looked at the small and comfortable house where he lived. Her father had given it to the boy less as a gift and more like a promise. Something he had to pay back to him someday.
After all, even if his family was dead, the fact he was the only suitable heir to so many people made him rich by default, and that's what made her father tolerate their relationship. But the boy wasn't just willing to spend anything that wasn't necessary. He lived a spartan life because his life was like in Sparta: the middle road to the war, even if the war only existed on his mind.
She climbed the steps, grabbed the keys and entered, feeling the hot air hitting her face almost like she had fallen in the water, heavily contrasting with the cold. She slowly unbuttoned her jacket and carefully put on the sofa. She was always afraid of messing up things since she was little, a fear inserted into her mind by her strict father. She turned on the stove to heat a teapot. She had to heat her body.
Watching the darkness fell over the street by the window, she looked with shining eyes the drumming of the snow falling, hitting windows and ceilings.
Suddenly a hand grabbed her by the neck, dry and cold, like a killer. "I could have easily, easily killed you. Seriously, is your mind here? I'm not asking to you become a paranoid girl, I like how you are...sweet..."
He really hated that last word.
"But that is no reason to lose yourself looking at the snow. You think too much".
She turned to him only to see the eyes of a hawk, penetrating through her blue. "Sorry, it's just I thought of something...nasty."
"Describe nasty."
"I dunno if you want to hear it, it may kill you...sexually"
She was afraid of saying sexual words. Not of doing sexual things.
"Three minutes staring at your boobs may make women gay. Explain."
"People probably think I'm giving blowjobs to strangers because you tell me to".
His hands slowly drifted from her hips up to her cheeks, then moved to the side to meet her lips. "You're thinking of cheating on me".
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Close your cum drinking hole right now or you will learn the true meaning of fasting, your sow".
He hit her with these bombs time to time. It made her feel uncomfortable and defenseless. That's where he used to attack.
He moved closer to kiss her. She thought was about touching lips at first, until she felt his tongue in. He was hungry. Feeling his arms around her, she didn't know if he was thinking in fucking her or in just comforting her. Maybe a mix of both. Her legs were wobbling and he put her on the table so he didn't have to keep her above the ground.
He turned off the stove and grabbed her by the legs and back, and she thought of a sleeping bride that the groom had just beat into submission. Why she was thinking of that weird video game her little sister liked again?
He dropped her on the bed like she was a body bag however. She realized he was still angry. He left the room and screamed from the outside.
"Naked! Now! Or just bra and panties, anyway. It's not like we're going to have sex. You like that".
She was afraid, just a little afraid. He was still kind of a killer, right? She stopped herself of thinking in that, it was ridiculous.
When he came back with the ropes, she was completely naked. He spent some time staring at it. He called her a pig but she was a pretty thin pig. It was just these udders and her puffy clothes she usually wore that made her look larger.
"Head. Bed. Your Hands. From behind. I want to access your ass as easy I can grab the ice cream on the refrigerator".
While tying her, he looked at her eyes. He realized that she was seeing if he was doing a good work.
He sat on the bed. She didn't get it completely, but he was uncomfortable.
"How did your father punish you?" he said out loud.
"He..." she did get where he was going, but she didn't understand the reluctance of him to just punish her already. "He hit me with a cane on the hips".
"Why aren't you afraid?" he asked.
"I know you will not hurt me. Not too much".
"Really? Why?"
"Because you love me?"
40 long quiet seconds passed.
A really strong slap hit her ass. She didn't scream, but it was already kind of red.
"I don't love you. Tell me the real reason. Why I don't would hurt you?"
A thought saying "well, I thought you weren't going to hurt me" floated on the girl's head. She deleted it. He was angry, real angry this time. The cheating accusation was an excuse to tie her to the bed. Trying to be sassy...She couldn't really predict him. Not worth the risk. Possibilities ceased to exist. The reality was, he will hurt her.
"Because you..." she said.
"Because me..." he said.
"Like me?"
SLAP!
"Care about me?"
SLAP!"
"Don't want to hurt me?"
She was almost sure she was bleeding. Maybe she was just paranoid.
Twenty seconds passed.
"Are you gonna answer or what?"
"What do you want me to say?"
SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!
She was crying. Crying for real. What did he want?
Another slap for not answering.
"I hope you are thinking. I can keep doing this for hours, I can't sleep easily, you know. And honestly, will your father even care if you never come back? I can do this until you die of thirst."
She thought about that. About dying. About her body becoming lifeless, and cold.
SLAP!
"Argh!"
"Ah, now the bitch is screaming, finally!"
She had an epiphany.
"I will not scream if I'm dead..." she whispered.
"What did you said..." he was genuinely curious.
"You need me alive to scream" she said.
He stopped his hand in mid-air. That was a right answer. But not exactly what he wanted. He wanted something more visceral, more gross. The ugliest of the words, the worst of the insults, coming from these pretty lips.
"Say what you are to me. Say or I will keep going!"
"Didn't you plan to slap me anyway because I thought of another men?"
That was the straw that broke the camel's back. He knew what he said, but slaps weren't enough to terminate his wrath. She heard him stripping and was hit by surprise by his dick.
She screamed one more time before losing consciousness, when her orgasm hit. There were several moans before.
She didn't remember exactly when he untied her. She only remembered waking up with him grabbing one of her breasts while laying on the other side of the bed. She was also feeling awfully cold.
"Good morning."
"Oh, you're happy. Nice, for you".
"Are you not happy?"
"I'm sleeping with a woman I hate. Have anyone ever called you a doormat? Like, are you aware of how much of a brain dead monkey you are?"
"My two best friends called me that once, years apart from each other".
"And they're right. Hell, I'm sure they said it because they wanted you to change, but you never changed. Pretty little fuck meat doormat retard, that's what you are".
Silence reigned for several seconds before she asked the inevitable question.
"So, what am I to you?" the blue-haired girl asked.
He took a long breath.
"Irreplaceable; I don't think there's another one like you. Not one that doesn't try to run away when her boyfriend begins to slap her for random reasons, without consent or anything of that BDSM crap. And not only that, there's also...".
His left hand squeezed her left breast. She just clenched her teeth and tried to not yell or scream until he took his hand off. She finally gasped after he did it
"That goddamn body. So, if you cheat on me, I don't know what I would do. I would be completely confused. I can't discard you and..."
She interrupted him
"I think that's love."
"Really?"
"Yes".
"Love is for good people. I'm bad and everybody knows I'm bad. I may like certain things, material or not, on you; love you? That's too far. People don't hurt things they love like I do".
"I think you can love and hate a person in the same time".
"Are we talking about your father?"
She stayed silent.
"Yeah, I think I hate you because you're braindead and I love you because you're braindead... Wait, why do you like me? Like, where is the part where you ran away from here right now and tell the police your boyfriend spanked you like a prison guard?"
He sat on the bed and looked at her as answer to her silence.
"Answer me".
Silence.
He stared at her like he wanted to cut her chest open with a knife.
Finally his hands pinned her against the mattress by the neck.
"Answer me you cum-drinking piece of..."
His brown eyes stared at her blue, and he took his hand off.
"Oh, it's not neutrality. You like this. Deep inside that mind of yours you like the punishment. Have you realized how hollow is your existence, how worthless is for you to live, that you decided to gave yourself to the nearest person who would cum thinking of you suffering? But where does this abyss ends, huh? Where is the end of the pit, pig? Where does you stop enjoying and turn into a real person, someone disgusted, someone that hates me, or that feels real, excruciating pain? When I make you drink my pee? Eat my shit? Or instead of testing your body, what about testing your mind? Maybe I should have sex with one of your friends while you watch. Hell, what about your little sister? She may hate me, but does she hates you more than me? Or maybe.."
While he said those words, she just stared the ceiling, until she remembered something she had to say now that she should have said yesterday.
"Pregnant."
"What?"
"I'm pregnant. It's you..."
"Of course it's mine. You're too braindead to cheat".
He fell on the other side of the bed, frustrated. Just when he was thinking of several ways of to make her suffer, a mini-fusion of him and her got in the way. So euphoric one minute ago, so dead right now.
"Well, at least I can taste human milk for the first time, I was always curious. And also..."
The boy stopped talking. He just let his imagination go. He had no need in saying in what he was thinking.
He was imagining her beautiful face, contorted into pain and despair, then screaming like a banshee, trying to pull out a mellon from her womb.
Perfect.
When that thought ended, he suddenly remembered the starting point, the reason why they were in that bed in first place.
"So, about what people think of me and you..."
"Yes..."
"They're not really very wrong, are they? I'm scum. Not the kind of scum that gives my girlfriend to others, but still scum. And you? You are kind of a whore. You're just a monogamous whore."
"Yes."
"The rumors are right. 99% of them. We should tell the whole city, they would feel pretty satisfied."
"That would never satisfy them."
"Oh really? What you know?"
"I know they don't want us. Not where they can see us".
"Well, I guess there's one thing I can still do while you are pregnant that's very degrading".
"What?"
"Public sex".