Summary:This is what I think that Blair and Chucks relationship would turn out, because no matter what people say, they have an abusive relationship.

Authors note: This started out as a one shot but I think I want to continue it. It will be a Dair fic. Depending on the reviews and if people want me to continue it I will. Also, if you're a Chuck or a Chair fan you probably won't like this so continue on to another fic.
Other than that, I really hope you like it!

The first time it happened she didn't even think about it, Chuck was upset and needed to let out some frustration and she was being a "particular stubborn bitch" as he called it. He had been trying to get some company to sign over to Bass Enterprises but they turned him down. Blair herself was in a bad mood, nothing had gone the way she planned that day. But when Chuck came home, she decided to let him vent about his day, after all, he needed too more than her.

"You're not listening!" He had growled suddenly and shook her, before pushing her down on the sofa.

The second time it happened she didn't think much of it. She was at a fashion event in Paris, where she and Chuck had been living for the past couple of years. She had been talking to one of the male models, talking about maybe hiring him as the new male face for Waldrof designs when all of a sudden Chuck appeared by her side. Scotch in hand, hooded eyes; Chuck always seemed to be drunk these days. He grabbed her upper arm and excused them before dragging her away. The grip on her arm only tightened as he was hissing at her to stop flirting with other men. She didn't notice the bruises on her arm until the next day.

The third time it happened she understood why he did it; she was the one who was wrong. They were playing yet another game, not because it was exciting for her, but Chuck still seemed to enjoy it. They were playing one of his favorites, he was her master, and she needed to be punished. His hand was at her shoulder, then suddenly at her waist, gripping like a vice. She flinched but didn't push him away. His hands were clutching her body, his nails sunk in her skin. She was too afraid to tell him to stop, she didn't want to make him angry. Later that night she observed her body in the full length mirror in the bathroom when Chuck came in behind her.

"Why did you do that to me?" She whispered, tears in her eyes.

"You didn't stop me." He responded dryly.

He was right, she didn't stop him, it was her own fault.

The fourth time was the first time she was the first time she feared for her life. Chuck had come home late, and drunk out of his mind. Blair had been sitting at her desk in her study; working for fashion week was coming up. He was mumbling something about Bass enterprises going downhill before taking her hand and led her to the bedroom. She said no when he took her dress of, she had a lot of work to do. She pushed him away gently but before she knew it, she was back in his arms, his hand at her throat. He was pushing her against a wall, the pressure of his hand becoming stronger. Her airways tightened under the weight and she was gasping for air.

"You're mine Blair!" He hissed against her ear, "You don't tell me no." he continued in a much calmer tone.

She was starting to feel faint, but she managed a nod which seemed to please him because he was letting her go.

"I'm sorry." She let out between deep inhales of breath.

The fifth time it happened she didn't leave the apartment for days. They had been arguing. She was telling him about her needing to go back to New York for fashion week but Chuck wouldn't hear it. She was going to stay here in Paris, with him, she was after all his. The fury in her was let out when he said this, it was her job, her life, and he was forbidding her to live it.

"You cannot control me Chuck!" She screamed at him. And before she thought it through she let out a low "Dan would never do this to me."

Then all that was heard was his hand, connecting with her cheek. The force of the slap pushed her to the ground and for a minute all they did was look at each other in silenced chock. Her cheek was stinging, her hand felt the heat radiating from her skin, there would definitely be a bruise.

"Blair," Chuck spoke suddenly, his voice filled with regret "Blair I'm so so sorry!" He knelt by her side and picked her up and slowly carried her to their bed. He kept repeating "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

She was too tired to respond, instead she put her hand on his arm and squeezed lightly, reassuring him that it was all going to be okay.

The sixth time it happened she didn't remember why he had gotten angry and hit her. All she remembered was that he was drunk. He called her a whore and then his fist connected with her stomach, Blair's whole body buckled and she bent over in pain, trying to get some air in her lungs before she collapsed on the floor. She felt Chuck turning her over on her back and looked down at her with cold eyes. Slowly he bent down and sat on his knees beside her and Blair prepared herself for the slap that was coming. Sure enough the stinging on her cheek came only a few seconds later.

Her eyes were too cloudy with tears and pain that she didn't see what he did next, but all of a sudden she felt his weight upon her. She whimpered helplessly and tried to push him of but to no vain. He grabbed her hands and pinned them down above her head with his own stronger one. When she still didn't stop struggling he spit in her face and whispered in her ear;

"You deserve this, you whore."

She lost count how many times it happened after that.