TWEEKS P.O.V
Just be good.
Those words haunted me as I sat in the basement. I wasn't chained up this time, but I wasn't aloud to go upstairs until I learned my lesson. I shouldn't have been talking to Clyde about anything that had to do with Craig. He told me time and time again, but I still couldn't just be good. I was so sick of crying and feeling sorry for myself. Why couldn't I just behave? I'm good. I can be good. I just need to think before I do things. I wanted Craig. I wanted him to hold me. I was tired. I fell asleep.
I opened my eyes and I was back in our bed. I felt relief wash over me and looked around for Craig. He wasn't there and I started to cry again. I got up and tried opening the door, but it was locked. I sobbed harder, realizing he must've locked me in here because I can't behave. I sat on the floor and brought my knees to my chest whimpering "I'll be good. I'll be good." Historically, starting to cough and lose my breathe. "Please.." I whispered to nobody, wanting someone to hear me. Someone to help me.
Just be good.
Those words echoed in my head again. I had to be good and he would come back. I stood up and went to the TV, turning it on. I could just watch some TV. That's good right? I put on family feud as I cried silently. "Craig.." I whimpered pulling the blankets over my head. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." I repeated to nobody. I hated this. Why couldn't I behave!? I got up and went into the bathroom, splashing water on my face and drying my tears. I considered using my razor, he would run in here. But he would also be mad and punish me longer. I decided to take a shower.
I sat at the edge of the tub and sobbed as the water washed down my body. I sobbed I couldn't breathe and that's when the door opened. Craig came in and turned the shower off. I sobbed and reached for him like a crying child would to its mother, and he picked me up. I felt so much relief at that moment as I clung to him. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" I told him again and again. "I know." He said, placing me back on the bed. He got a towel and wrapped me in it, drying me off.
Just be good.
That's I needed to do and he would love me. He put me in one of his sweatshirts and a pair of my boxers and cuddled me. "I love you. I love you so much." I whimpered into his chest. He smiled and kissed my forehead. "I love you too baby." I snuggled him, never wanting to let go. He slid his hand up my shirt and I whimpered, just wanting to cuddle. He hushed me and kissed me roughly. I was so tired and scared. He was always rough, but I was always okay. Physically that is, emotionally I was always a wreck. He removed my shirt and then his own, then grinded against me.
Just be good.
"Pleaseā¦" I whimpered. Every time I did something bad he would fuck me, and he would fuck hard. I was so scared. He removed the rest of our clothing slammed into me. I let out a big sob, pain rushing through my body as I pleaded for him to stop or at least slow down. He slammed in, and out. In, and out. The pain was intolerable as I clung to him, sobbing his name. If I was good this wouldn't have happened. We would cuddle and watch Netflix. We would be happy and he would fuck me gently and with love. Not with anger and hate. He finished and let me sob into his chest as I shook and felt used.
Just be good.
I need to be good.
