(Disclaimer: while this story has had many elements changed, it is based on true events. If you are wanting an instant stroke-story, you will have to look elsewhere, as the sex in this story is a ways in coming. Thanks for reading! Chapter II is coming soon!)
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The second the glass slipped from my fingers, the world started to move in slow-motion. I could almost count the beats of my heart between the ticking third hand on the clock. I watched the glass falling...falling...falling...until...
CRASH.
The shards of glass exploded through across the metal of the sink and echoed through my mind, their glinting edges sharp as razorblades and the fear in my heart just as sharp.
I knew what was coming the second the noise echoed through the hall.
The thudding of the boots on the hardwood floor matched the thudding of my heart as the footsteps drew nearer and nearer...
"What the HELL was that?!"
I hit the floor, almost instinctively, arms up over my face in a desperate effort to protect my face and neck from what I knew was coming. The hand around my wrist jerked me to my feet regardless.
I knew without looking that his ice-blue eyes were cold as winter and that any traces of compassion that used to reside there had long since left us behind. The blows came raining over my shoulders and neck from his tight-clenched hand.
"You...stupid...clumsy...bitch!"
His hand connected with my face, neck, and shoulders to emphasize every word, the blows sending waves of terror and pain through my entire body. But by the third or forth blow, I was numb, my mind shifting into the place it always went when he was angry like this.
The jerk on my hair was enough of a surprise to make me cry out, but it didn't even slow him down as he dragged me down the hall, my feet slipping on the wood and causing me to lose my balance. I hit the floor with a sharp thud, my ankle twisting painfully beneath me. I cried out in pain, and he stopped.
Turning around, he raised his boot-clad foot and brought it soundly down on the wounded leg. I heard a snap and screamed as white hot pain shot through me. Without a word, he turned away, still pulling me onward until we reached the door of his bedroom.
My back slammed against the wall so hard that I thought more of my bones would break. His hand found my throat and squeezed until I felt my air supply completely cut off. I struggled and tried to gasp for air, but he struck me again and again until my eyes closed and I fell still.
I felt his hands replaced by a thick twist of sharp, splintered rope, so tight that I could barely draw enough air into my lungs. His voice was venom-laden, no longer loud but so soft that it almost terrified me more than his bellowing.
"This is as much of a collar as you will ever deserve, you stupid, clumsy whore."
His voice against my ear almost caused a physical ache.
"What are you, bitch?"
"Stupid. Clumsy. Worthless..." The words were too familiar, sinking into me until I almost believed them. I had repeated them enough.
He smacked my face again, making my head spin with the force.
The next moments blurred for me, twisting and fading together like the strangest sort of fog between reality and my aching wishes. It was in these moments that my mind shut off entire, that I reached out mental fingers for the one person that was no longer there, and that would never be again.
The rough twine cut into my skin, splinters leaving a red trail with the rest of the pale lines that crossed my fair-toned skin. Forced onto my stomach, legs hanging off the edge of the bed, clothes ripped from me so fast that I felt my skin burn.
His voice was like a knife down my back, cutting me almost in half.
"This is what stupid, careless bitches get...and don't you dare scream, or I will start over."
The first blow of the thin wooden cane across my my calves was almost enough to make me scream, but my teeth sank into my cheek instead. I knew the drill...this was not the first time, or the second time...was it even the thousandth time?
In my head, I began to whisper the letters that kept me from exploding on the inside. Every blow of the cane was a cypher, the pain lancing through me. But in my head was a whispered chant...His name, over and over again.
"E....T....I....E...N....N....E........E....T.....I...."
How many times I repeated the letters in my head, I did not know. But I lost count long before the black crept over the edge of my vision and took over everything.
///
I heard the world before my eyes opened. I could feel the cold wood against my skin, my bare body slick with something that I knew was blood. I tried to shift, but halted instantly as a wave of nausea slammed into my body. I retched but fought it back, knowing that if he found that I had made a mess on his floor, my punishment would be double what it had already been.
Moving my fingers resulted in more pain. I realized that I was now bound to the foot of the bed, hands tied to the footboard and legs tied to a nearby dresser leg. The rope was still around my neck, cutting into my flesh painfully with every breath I took. Everything hurt.
I heard a distant thudding down the hall. I assumed he was working on something else and making excess noise to remind me of his presence.
Then there was the shouting. Raised voices and crashing, splintering wood. Male voices, the sound of fists connecting with flesh, yells that sounded familiar...too familiar...
My eyes flickered open just as the door to the bedroom flew open and a huge figure came bursting in. The man was massive, broad-shouldered and at least six feet tall. My eyes sought out his face, and my blood ran like ice. I knew that face, better than I knew my own name anymore. It was the only thing that had flooded my mind, clung to my dreams.
