Serena brushed blond bangs out of her eyes with the back of her arm and sat back on her knees. She was wearing yellow rubber gloves up to her elbows, a grungy old t-shirt and brown sweat pants. Her hair was in its classic style but she wore no make-up. She was kneeling in front of a sparkling porcelain toilet. That ought to make Jon happy. Not a speck of dirt anywhere. She'd even laid on the floor to scrub behind it. Serena stood and picked up her bucket of cleaners stowing them neatly under the sink. It felt good to take the gloves off, her hands would always get so hot and sticky inside but it was better than touching all the grossness of the toilet.
Serena stopped at the doorway and looked into the small bathroom. The walls were white, the counter-tops a solid shade of slate grey. The floor was white with black square outlines that matched the back and white shower curtain hiding the spotless bathtub. Everything was in place, everything was neat, there was no dust anywhere. Jon would have no reason to get mad at her for this room at least.
She made her way past their one bedroom into the rest of the apartment. She looked around the tiny living room. There were vacuum patterns on the white carpet, the large plasma screen tv had been dusted. Serena walked forward to straighten indigo pillows on the navy couch. The lone picture of her and Jon on their wedding day sat perfectly on a black side table. Serena was grateful that Jon had let her get the purple pillows. He always wanted black and white and grey. It was so boring sometimes. But Jon knew best.
Pleased that the living room would pass inspection she peeked into the kitchen. Serena hated the kitchen. It was narrow, and crowded, and she didn't know how to cook. That was why Jon got mad at her most nights. The meals she made usually didn't taste very good. He was right to get mad at her. She failed and deserved to be punished. Absently she rubbed her shoulder. It was still sore from last night's attempt at meatloaf. Jon had hit her and twisted her arm around. It was really bad. She deserved it.
She could cook spaghetti. She never messed up spaghetti. Serena opened the drawer at the bottom of the spotless black flattop stove and pulled out a saucepan. She grabbed a package of spaghetti and a jar of sauce out of a nearby white cupboard with brushed silver knobs. Putting them on the counter she looked at the clock. It was still early! Jon wouldn't be home for hours yet! Serena had time to watch a little TV before she showered and made herself presentable. Jon hated it when she looked like this when he came home. He said that a wife should be beautiful for her husband. He was right, he deserved a beautiful wife.
Serena walked back into the living room and lay sideways on the couch. She took the remote and tuned the tv on. It was the early news. A dark haired anchorman in a blue suit was talking about the latest energy attacks.
" Thankfully Sailor V showed up in time to prevent the 'Youma' as she calls them from causing any permanent damage to the victims. From eye-witness reports she may have been accompanied by another mysterious sailor. It is unconfirmed at this point..."
Pictures from today's battle flashed across the screen. These attacks were happening a lot. It was the eighth one that Serena had heard about. Lucky for her she doesn't get out much, it would be terrifying to be faced with a monster. It was the last thought she had before she drifted to sleep.
Serena woke to searing pain down her shoulder followed abruptly by a thump and pain to her hip. It was dark. Someone was pulling hard on her right arm.
"What the Hell?" Jon shouted. He had pulled her off the soft suede couch onto the floor. Serena looked up at him eyes wide. She hadn't meant to fall asleep. "You got nothing to do all day but watch TV?"
"I... no.. I..."Serena started. He slapped her hard across the cheek. Tears welled in her eyes. It was a sharp stinging pain. That one would bruise.
"All I ask of you is to keep the house clean, be presentable when I come home and have a F*** dinner ready when I get here. Is that so much to ask? I work so hard to take care of you, I am the only one who is willing to put up with your crap, and this is how you treat me?" Jon's voice pierced heart. She failed him again.
He was pacing the room in black jeans and a black silk shirt. Serena lay frozen on the floor. Jon stopped pacing and pulled her to her feet. She readied herself for the impact. Her eyes were closed, chin tucked down arms straight at her side. It was time for punishment. The force made her step back. Jon's fist connected right below her jaw. She heard it pop. The next hit came to her stomach. She doubled over, her lungs ached for air, but she couldn't seem to take in a breath. She wrapped her arms around her thin abdomen. Next came a kick to the shins. He hadn't taken off his boots today. Then he pushed back on her shoulders making her fall to the floor. She immediately curled into a fetal position in case there was more punishment coming. She lay there for a moment, eyes clenched shut.
Jon's ice cold hand brushed her hair back from her face. She opened one eye. He was sitting on the floor beside her, gently rubbing away the tears that ran down her cheeks.
"I'm sorry that I had to punish you," he whispered. He pulled her into his lap and cradled her. "I want you to know that it hurts me so much to have to do this to you. I love you. I love you so much."
He kissed her gently. Then stood and carried her to the bathroom. He sat her on the toilet she had cleaned so thoroughly that day. He ran a bath, the water steaming slightly. He moved slowly and methodically. After she was punished, he would always take care of her; a hot bath to soothe the new bruises, some ointment on any new cuts. He reached toward her and pulled her shirt off over her head. Serena looked down. A new bruise was forming just below her right ribcage, other bruises were starting to fade. Cold fingers undid the clasp on her bra. Serena let him slide the material off without a word; her expression unreadable. Standing up so Jon could help remove her pants she looked in the mirror.
Serena's face was thin, dark circles surrounded her eyes. Purple was starting to show through greyish skin on her chin. The remnants of bruises coated her torso. She leaned thin arms onto the grey counter while Jon pulled off her sweats and underwear. Then he stood behind her a full head taller than she was. His skin was also pale, but not greyish as was hers. He wrapped his arms around her midsection and she flinched when he pressed one of her bruises. Jon's white hair was shiny and light cut just above his shoulders. She used to love running her fingers through it when they were first married. His strong violet eyes met her dull blue ones for a moment, then he started nibbling her neck.
"Oh Serena," he moaned through nips at her skin. "I love your body. You don't know what it does to me."
Serena continued to stare at the mirror. His hands roved over her abdomen, one rising to brush her breasts the other sinking below the line of the mirror. When did this happen? When did she stop looking like Serena? Did she really deserve all of this? Jon's hands finally had some heat to them. She felt a familiar bulge at the small of her back.
"Get in the bath Serena." It was a command, not a question. She obeyed silently. The hot water quickly turned her grey skin pink, but it soothed her aches and calmed her worries. Jon sat behind her in the bath, taking up precious room, his clothes a pile on the floor. She'd have to clean it up in the morning. She leaned into him. His chest was still comforting. She loved him. He took care of her when no one else would. He took a cloth and rubbed the hot water over her arms and shoulders that were out of the water. He protected her from her family who hated her, the girls who were jealous of her. She had what they all wanted. She had Jon Diamond. Surely that was worth the pain.
Jon's hands rubbed her sore muscles. He undid the odango's in her hair letting blonde strands cascade around them. He wiped at the tears she hadn't realized were falling down her cheeks. Jon simply held her. It was the only thing she liked about when she made mistakes. She liked it when he simply held her; when he said sorry. Serena turned as best she could in the confines of the tub to still be lying in the steaming water and yet to see his face. His beautiful face with a strong jaw line and pointed nose. His smooth cheeks had turned pink from the heat of the bath.
"I'm sorry." she whispered. "I'll do better next time."
"I know you will." He kissed her. She met his eyes, they were full of that lust filled look he gave her so often, she didn't think he could hold off much longer. His erect penis was starting to throb in the water. His hands wandered over her breasts, pinching and pulling until each nipple was tingling and firm. He reached a hand between her legs when Serena stopped him.
"Jon, just give me a few minutes to shower, I want to be the wife you deserve to have."
He nodded and rose from the tub, she fell back into the water for only a moment before he pulled the plug and turned the shower on for her. Scalding water hit her skin before he'd adjusted it a more comfortable temperature. She stood under the stream, letting any lingering aches and concerns slip away with the water. She opened a bottle of shampoo that smelled of strawberries and rubbed it through her hair that hung to the back of her knees. Quickly finishing the rest of her shower, she stepped out and looked in the mirror again.
She looked a hundred times better. Her skin had a slight flush to it now, and her hair was brighter. She still had dark circles under her eyes, and purple and yellow bruises dotted her form, but a smile finally graced her lips. She wrapped her hair up in a towel, dried quickly and slipped into a lacy black lingerie and thong that Jon had left on the door. She applied cover-up to the bruises and dark circles that marred her face and painted her lips soft pink. She released her hair and combed it quickly before braiding it.
She sauntered toward the bedroom, stopping at the open door and leaning seductively against the frame. Jon had lit some candles filling the room with the smell of vanilla and jasmine. He lay nude on the queen sized bed propped up by white pillows atop a black duvet. His white skin shone in the candle light, lean limbs hiding incredible strength. He smiled when he saw her. He rose from the bed and picked her up bridal style. He flipped the sheets back and lay her down. Following her down he kissed her on the lips. Diving into her mouth he pressed himself against her. Her arms closed around his back pulling him close to her.
Serena moaned. Jon lifted himself up long enough to pull off her thong and thrust into her. The movements were hard and quick. She grimaced briefly before her body adjusted.
"Who's are you?" He asked breathless, repeating their common exchange. "Who owns you?"
"You do," She replied, and arched her back against him.
"Who owns you?" he asked louder.
"You do," She cried out. His movements had gotten faster, tension building inside of her.
"Who owns you!?" He shouted.
"YOU DO!" She shouted back.
He stopped, and throbbed inside of her his seed mixing with her fluids. He kissed her again. She ached with unreleased tension, wishing he would go just a little longer.
"I own you." He said pulling his relaxing member from her swollen opening and leaving the room.
She lay on the bed dripping slightly throbbing with desire still. "I love you too," she said after him. She heard the shower start. Then she reached down and found her clitoris to finish what Jon rarely did, she only had a minute before needing to make dinner.
Hola
Ususally I like to have the next chapter written before I update, but I am having a hard time being happy with chaper 9, so please be patient. As always review are loved!