Disclaimer:
I strongly recommend you read the first two chapters of this story before you read this one. This chapter details the collapse of Jesse's relationship with Claire and her eventual solace in the arms of the man who would become her husband. It's not as 'nice' as previous chapters. You have been warned.
Reflections on a painful past
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I take a moment to look back at what I've written; pages and pages of black ink on white paper. Some tear stained, some legible but most wild, messy and borderline unreadable. That didn't matter; this wasn't meant for reading, not anymore. Not now that the past had taken over and demanded its time in the light. I should have never opened the door in my heart. For years it had held back the demon of my past. Claire.
Now though with the door open my memories were flowing like an unstoppable tide and I'd gone well past the point of no return, past the sweet memories from early on. Now I was into the painful, turbulent storm that eventually led me to betrayal...
I was naive but I wasn't stupid. It didn't take me long to realise that Claire enjoyed hurting me. That realization scared me but it didn't change anything. I was hers to do with as she pleased and I believed that if she wanted to hurt me, then I probably deserved it. I was lucky to have someone like Claire who could forgive me for being so pathetic and love me despite my weakness. Claire's sadism became apparent to me very early in our relationship, early enough that I could have ended it easily if that had been my desire.
This is something that I often thought people wouldn't understand about us if I were ever brave enough to talk to someone about it. It never mattered to me that Claire was hurting me for gratification; her sexual sadism was an aspect of her that I could accept and that I consented to. I wasn't a masochist but that didn't matter, I wanted to please my lover and accepting pain was what was required to do it... so I let her hurt me. No the problem wasn't the sadism it was the abuse.
Yes they are different. In our sex lives Claire took control and I surrendered it willingly. There were rules I had to follow. If I did well she rewarded me. If I didn't do well she punished me, and yes she got off on the punishment more than the reward but that was ok. I loved both situations because she enjoyed both situations. We spoke about what my boundaries were, about what I could accept and what I couldn't. She was in control but there were limits to what she would do. This was not abuse.
The abuse occurred when Claire ignored my limits when she wasn't in control of herself and when the pain she was inflicting wasn't for sex at all but just plain old fashioned assault. It happened all too often. Claire was jealous, she was angry at the world, she was frustrated and often she was way out of control. Then she abused someone, usually me. Punches, kicks, choking and then when I was lying there battered, hurt and crying her sadistic lust would kick in, she'd get horny and she'd violate me. This was the true face of my goddess, my love. I didn't consent to being treated like that. I didn't ask for it. I didn't deserve it but she made me feel like I did. For a long time I believed I did.
The serious abuse didn't start till after our army basic training ended. I remember those basic training days as the sweetest most wonderful times, despite how hard they actually were. In those days Claire was claiming me, taming me, owning me and training me. It was a period of beautiful self discovery for both of us. She introduced herself to me, my goddess. She taught me about reward and punishment, pleasure and pain and finally she taught me how badly I needed to be a good girl. By the end of basic training my obedience to Claire was almost absolute. She had me programmed. I would do anything for her. I did do terrible things for her.
After basic training was over we gained a new sexual freedom. We were to join the same Corp and would be on the same Corp training courses. Army life was not quite so regimented after basic training. You'd passed through the gauntlet, proven yourself worthy. They were not trying to break you anymore. We were now in barracks with two person rooms. Claire was not my first roommate but she didn't waste any time sorting that out. I don't know if she bribed or threatened my first roommate Anna but three days after we moved in Anna swapped rooms with Claire.
Now for the first time ever we were free to love each other openly. No pillow stuffed in my mouth to keep me quiet. I'd actually miss that. No trying not to let the bed make any noise and my new favourite, no having to do it in the dark... Oh gods the joy! To make love to my goddess in the daytime, her beautiful sleek frame stretched out above mine, her long smooth legs slipping over mine, her pussy sliding up and down my wet thigh, Her eyes holding me so tightly I could barely breathe, her teeth sinking into the soft underside of my breasts. My screams, un-muffled, uncontained, as they join her cries of climax. Her blissful smiles, lust sated eyes on fire, rewarding me with love. Oh god Claire I miss you! I'm so fucking sorry! But I can't regret what I did.
She collected toys to use on me. She loved strap-ons, butt plugs, nipple clamps and restraints. I loved vibrators, blindfolds and gags. These differences gave us a good foundation on which to base my rewards and punishments. But there were other less loving objects involved in our relationship, the ruler, her belt, her boots and the stool that normally sat near our desk. When these items came out I knew I was in serious trouble. I would cry with dread as she strapped me to that stool but never beg, begging made her angrier. I wouldn't try and apologise either. There was no point at that stage and truth be told I probably hadn't done anything wrong though she would have come up with some flimsy justification for whatever was about to happen.
If I was being strapped to that stool then Claire was angry about something and someone was going to get hurt. I was that someone, though it was unlikely I was the cause of her anger. She would lie to herself, tell herself that this was just play but it wasn't. I would lie to myself, tell myself this was somehow my fault but it wasn't. She was going to hurt me a lot, take me well beyond our agreed limits and she'd be watching me, waiting for that moment when I broke. That moment made her feel powerful; it made me feel powerless, valueless and worthless.
When I broke and she saw it in my eyes she'd go wild with lust, she'd fuck me roughly then go and masturbate while I lay there still strapped to the stool, naked and crying at the violation. Finally she would come and free me. Lust sated, eyes on fire, trying to sooth me with love I couldn't feel because I was too numb, too dead inside. I could apologise now, it was safe. It didn't matter what I was apologising for. It just mattered that I could now. It did nothing for me but it brought her down, brought her back from the dangerous edge.
"I'm so fucking sorry Claire. Please Claire, can you forgive me? Claire, please? Tell me you love me?"
I'd snuggle up beside her in one of our beds, trying not to wince as the bruises on my back or the belt welts on my backside contacted the sheets. I'd whisper to her how much I loved her and how sorry I was that she was upset. I'd tell her I would do better. Then she'd cry because she was coming down from her high, regaining her self control and realising she'd hurt me again. I would cry because she was crying.
We'd fuck every day; that kind of abuse would happen about once a month. Just long enough for the bite marks, bruises and welts from the last time to fade.
Sometimes I craved the days of our basic training. I craved the pillow jammed in my mouth. I loved it when Claire gagged me, it reminded me of the pillow and it meant I couldn't talk, couldn't get myself into trouble with my stupid mouth. Claire loved it because it took away my ability to say no. Not that I would often but she liked that I couldn't. I loved how excited that made her. She would torment me. I loved to be tormented.
