Take It Like A Woman


Disclaimer: Alice Cooper recorded 'Take It Like A Woman'. I don't own anything or anybody except Andrea. I haven't decided if this is going to be a one-shot or a series. Please let me know? Thank you and please enjoy!


Andrea flinched as she lightly ran her fingers over her shoulder. She sighed in defeated resignation as the now-familiar pain shot through her arm as she gently rubbed the darkening bruise.

She gently explored the tender spot with her fingertips, tears filling her eys; not at the pain, although there was a lot more of that than was comfortable, but at the memory of where she had obtained the injury.

And all the others.

I bet ya never thought
That it would never turn out like this
Mama's little girl
Daddy's little princess

Like the rest of her life, her wedding had been perfect – beautiful, carefully coordinated and well, just perfect. Andrea had looked the classic, tranquil bride; radiantly in love with her tall, strapping groom.

There wasn't a dry eye in the house when they exchanged their wedding vows. Everyone predicted a lifetime of happiness, bliss and a gaggle of little ones running around within the near future.

Sure, for the first year or so, it had been a honeymoon period for the couple – happy strolls, lovey-dovey evenings, home-cooked meals and night after night of steamy sex that left them both breathless, satiated and exhausted.

And suddenly, all that changed. Andrea didn't know if it was work pressure that had gotten to him or if it was just an inherent personality flaw; but, the man that she had fallen in love with and committed her life to was slowly but surely morphing into someone whom she could barely recognize.

As far back as she could remember, people had always cautioned her that Randy had a rougher side than that which he showed her. That he could be crude. That he could be cruel. That he could be violent. But, in the seven years that they had been together, he had never shown that side of himself to her, not once. He had always been very tender, very loving, very much a gentleman. She pinned it down to his being misunderstood, that he was just a lot more passionate and intense than people were used to.

Then, she started feeling it for herself. He started becoming a lot more quick-tempered. His choice of words started becoming harsher. The soft, tender words were becoming few and far between. Instead, they were being replaced with mean, cutting terms; terms that you wouldn't normally use on someone that you love.

But somewhere in your fairy tale
Everything went wrong

And then, it got progressively worse.

Randy's sexual appetite, ravenous being an understatement, became even more so, if that was even possible. His tastes, already borderline experimental, grew even more perverse. His mild S&M fetish grew – the light taps became more stinging, the ropes tighter, the desire for her to dress-up more frequent. He seemed to crave sex at every possible opportunity – every night was a given, possibly every morning as well and blowjobs in the car while he drove became a mandatory norm.

She had timidly raised it once that she felt that it was going a bit overboard. The resultant was not pleasant. Randy became very angry, shouting at her that it was normal and that a wife should submissively service her husband, instead of trying to make him feel bad for wanting something that already belonged to him. He continued to berate her, reminding her that he was the only man that she had ever slept with and thus, she had no benchmark for comparison for what was normal and what was not.

That night, silent tears rolled down Andrea's cheeks she felt her head jerk back as Randy pulled her hair hard while thrusting into her relentlessly from behind. But, she never raised a word against him for that again.

Now the sun don't shine
The words don't rhyme
You're out of time

She could vividly remember the first time Randy raised his hand against her. There had been hundreds, if not thousands of other blows, rained on her since – but she never forgot the first.

It hadn't been over something major. Objectively speaking, it hadn't even been her fault.

Randy had told Andrea that he would be home around 6.30pm, after filming an interview and a segment on ESPN. At 6.25pm, Andrea had made sure that she had a warm bath running for him, his clothes neatly laid out on the bed and a warm dinner roasting in the oven waiting for him.

At 7pm, he still wasn't home, still hadn't called. Andrea pinned it down to the interview running into overtime. So, she waited.

At 8pm, he still wasn't home, still hadn't called. Andrea continued to wait.

At 9pm, he still wasn't home, still hadn't called. Andrea tried unsuccessfully to reach him on his mobile. She continued to wait.

At 10pm, he still wasn't home, still hadn't called. Again, Andrea tried to call him but the call didn't connect. She continued to wait.

At 11pm, he still wasn't home, still hadn't called. Andrea tried to call him yet again but was yet again, unsuccessful. With a sigh, she turned off the bath-water, put his clothes back into the closet and put the roast chicken into the fridge.

She sat on the couch, the TV was on but she saw nothing, lost in her thoughts. She heard the rustling of keys at the front door and jumped up to open it. Randy stumbled in, smelling of a combination of cigarette smoke and alcohol and looking a little worse for the wear.

His eyes darted to the dining table, saw no food on it and flew into a lethal rage. Andrea never saw it coming. Next thing she knew, Randy's hand connected hard with the side of her face. Andrea was stunned silent for a moment, before bursting into tears. Her sobs seemed to enrage Randy further and a torrent of blows landed themselves on her face, her shoulders, her arms. Andrea used her arms to shelter herself from the blows. Randy grabbed her by the shoulders and threw her onto the couch. She lay there, curled up in a fetal position, sobbing silently.

Randy stared imperviously at her before heading upstairs to take a bath.

Two hours later, when Andrea's sobs had finally subsided and she had calmed down sufficiently, she warily made her way up the stairs and climbed wordlessly into bed, next to the man who had just showered her with pain.

She found him awake. Randy reached out for her and she froze in fear. Instead of his previous anger-driven fury, however, he pulled her tenderly against his chest and gently stroked the back of her head, kissing her forehead and her temple lovingly.

He whispered sweet words into her ear, apologizing for his earlier conduct and promising never to do it again.

Andrea put the incident at the back of her mind, thinking that it was a one-off thing. She snuggled up close against her husband, listening to his heartbeat and feeling the warmth of his body against hers. She fell asleep, comforted and assured that the Randy she fell in love with and had been with for so many years had returned.

You've been beaten down
Kicked around on the ground
But you took it like a woman
Victimized, terrorized, paralyzed
But you took it like a woman

But, as time went on, the abuse, physical and emotional, continued for the smallest of reasons. Randy was becoming more and more violent until it had come to the point where Andrea was actually scared for her own safety.

Yet, she still stayed. She stayed out of a certain sense of loyalty and because she was convinced that Randy still loved her, despite all the things that he did to her.

Randy was smart. He never hit her where anyone could see. He knew that the group of wrestlers' wives were close and he didn't want to bring more trouble upon himself than need be. He knew that he had sufficient control over Andrea such that she wouldn't tell anyone about how he hit her; but, he had to make sure that no one else knew about it either.

Pushed too far pulled too hard
Deeply scarred
I know you must have felt the pain
But you took it like a woman

Andrea lay in bed, watching Randy sleep. His arm was strewn across her waist. He looked so peaceful, so calm that it was hard to reconcile the man in bed with her with the same one who had hit her earlier in the day.

As Randy expected, Andrea hadn't told anyone about the beatings. She chose to internalize the pain, questioning herself, asking what it was that she did wrong or that she could have done better.

Randy had been her first boyfriend. The first man she had kissed. The first man that she had made love to. She didn't know what other relationships were like but she was sure they didn't involve this much physical or emotional pain.

Ya thought you had your Mr. Right
But he was really Mr. Hyde
Ya gave him your most precious gift
You were his bleeding bride

It seemed as though Randy had a split personality. He could be the cold, emotionless monster driven only by rage that would scream at her, call her unmentionable names, force her into having sex so rough that it would leave her limping from the internal abrasions and hit her as though she were nothing more than his punching bag.

He tied you up pulled your hair
He slapped your innocent face
Yeah, you were black and blue
He laughed at you
So what'd you do?

On the other hand, there were times when he was still the Randy of old – the wonderful, tender, loving man who would stroke her hair, massage her shoulders and legs, talk and laugh over a home-cooked meal with and make sweet, gentle and considerate love to.

Aw you've been beaten down
Kicked around on the ground
But you took it like a woman
Victimized, terrorized, paralyzed
But you took it like a woman
Pushed too far pulled too hard
Deeply scarred
I know you must have felt the pain
But you took it like a woman

Could Andrea bring herself to leave him? He was her Randy. Her husband. The love of her life. Her soulmate. That's what he was, wasn't he?

It was supposed to be a dream come true – growing up in a life of privilege, marrying a successful and good-looking young athlete, living together, having children together, growing old together. That's what it was supposed to be.

Supposed.

And so its over
Your fantasy life is finally at an end
And the world above is still a brutal place
And the story will start again

The screams. The pain. The tears. The blood. It was a never-ending cycle. She never knew when it was going to start. She never knew if it would end.

You been beaten down
Kicked around on the ground
But you took it like a woman
Victimized, terrorized, paralyzed
But you took it like a woman

Andrea lived every second of her life in fear. But, she continued to live with Randy, to sleep with him every night. Misguided loyalty or true commitment to her wedding vows? She herself didn't know.

Pushed too far pulled too hard
Deeply scarred
I know you must have felt the pain
Felt the pain

Just then, Randy rolled over in his sleep and nuzzled against Andrea's neck, throwing his arm around her small waist.

"I love you, Andie baby," he mumbled in his sleep.

Andrea sighed, closing her eyes and feeling the welcome blanket of sleep begin to wash over her. It was the only time she felt no fear, no pain, no sorrow, no worry. It was the only time she didn't berate herself for staying on in the marriage.

She knew.

She knew despite all that had happened, she couldn't leave Randy.

She just couldn't.

For better or for worse.

She couldn't.

I know you must have felt the pain
But you took it like a woman
You took it like a woman
I know you must have felt the pain
You took it like a woman
I know you must have felt the pain
You took it like a woman
I know you must have felt the pain
You took it like a woman