This is a slow burn romance series that contains femdom, humiliation, and non-consensual themes. Some chapters are far less erotic than others because this is a long series. This chapter contains very sensitive themes.
Chapter 22
Abuse...
For as long as I can remember, I was surrounded by abuse. My very first memories as a little girl were of my mom holding me down by the hair and smacking me on the back of the head.
"Why were you born?!" she would scream in the midst of her strikes. And as if my existence wasn't bad enough, she'd yell, "Why couldn't you be a boy?!"
My mother was a professional gold digger. All she did was go from man to man, searching for someone to take care of her. The only thing she brought to the table was her beauty, but once those men realized what a shitty person she was, they'd immediately leave her after getting their dicks wet.
That's how sex was introduced to me. I only saw it as a momentary pleasure provided to a man in exchange for the woman getting something she wanted. And unfortunately for my mother, I was just the ultimate consequence of another failed attempt at tricking a man into a lifetime of misery.
I never met my father. All I know about him is that he knocked up my mother and then left her before finding out she was pregnant. He was a very wealthy man, as were all the men my mother would pursue. He didn't even mind paying the child support just so he could be completely rid of my mom, and of course, me.
As a result, my mother hated me. She constantly reminded me of the burden I was on her life, since men found her less desirable now that she had a child. She wanted so badly just to get rid of me, but she couldn't because she couldn't afford to lose the child support.
As a child, I longed for the love and compassion I would see others receiving, either on TV or at my schools. I never received any of that at home. And whenever my mother would bring another guy around, he'd eventually leave her, and she would blame me for the failures of her relationships, despite her ugly personality.
I was abused a lot. I took the blame for everything.
As a child, I didn't know any better. For all my young mind knew, my mother was right. I couldn't even grow up to take care of her because, as she stated so many times before, she knew I'd end up exactly like her, a helpless woman.
For eighteen years, I was her burden to bear. She'd remind me of that every day and every night. The only reason she didn't abort me was because she hoped my birth would bring my father back.
That didn't happen, nor did I turn out to be a son who could take care of her later on in life. I was just a constant reminder of her failures, and I was everything she hated about herself.
Then, I met him...
I bet Phillip doesn't even remember the day we met. We were just children in elementary school. I guess I took a liking to him because he was nice to me, just like he was to everyone else. I also liked that he was small. His tiny stature was kind of cute to me.
At the time, I had no knowledge of boys, nor did I understand how to interpret my feelings. I just know that I started teasing him, because that was the only way to assure I'd get his attention.
At home, my mom wasn't someone I could talk to. She'd often have zero interest in how my days went. Even when I talked about Phillip, she didn't seem to have anything to say... until... I mentioned that his dad was a doctor.
It was such an insignificant detail to me at the time, but I'll never forget the way my mother's eyes lit up. It was just something that he mentioned in class when we all had to introduce ourselves. I thought it was pretty cool, but my mother, obviously, found it even more intriguing than I did.
"Did you say you liked this boy?" she asked, suddenly showing me the attention I never received as she placed her hands on my shoulders. "So you're going to marry him someday?"
I just remember shaking my head as I trembled from that look in her eyes. "I don't even know," I told her. "He probably doesn't like me..."
From that point on, my mother's attitude towards me changed. Her new hope was that I would eventually marry rich once she was done indulging in my father's child support.
By the time I was eighteen, she figured we could both live off the wealth of some rich person I'd marry. And for the time being, the number one prospect was Phillip.
I, all of a sudden, had the constant attention from my mother that I always craved. However, the older I got, the more I realized that attention didn't stem from love. It was just more abuse, like everything else in my life.
She switched me from leftover junk food all the time to healthy meals, so I lost all my pudginess. She started making me exercise every day, even before I was fully developed. I even received lessons on how to do makeup, as well as regular visits to the dermatologist, to go along with contacts and braces.
All of these things were actually really positive for me. They were all great. The only issue was... they weren't done out of her love for me... It was clear that the only reason she was putting work into me was so that I'd become valuable to a man once I was older.
I was now an investment to her, not a daughter.
Oddly enough, it was that very abuse she put me through that resulted in me finally gaining attention from my peers. The more attractive I looked, the more I suddenly found myself as the center of attention. People were now approaching me and being nice for no reason. Making friends had never been easier.
Still, going home was a reminder of the hell I truly lived in. No matter what successes I achieved, academically or socially, all my mother cared about were the boys I was potentially suited for.
Even when I wanted to play sports, because my friends wanted me to join, she didn't allow me to participate. To her, she just saw it as another obligation for herself. She didn't want to go to my games, and she definitely didn't want to drive me to practices.
Eventually, I found swimming... and she was okay with it... As a matter of fact, she was excited...
It wasn't that I was in high school, so all transportation was already taken care of. It definitely wasn't that she had finally come around to caring about what I wanted. No... The only reason she wanted me to participate was because she knew guys would see me in swimsuits.
I felt like livestock in her eyes. I was like a prize that she was trying to show off for her own benefit.
My personal desires were never considered. All that mattered were how things affected her. But for the time being, she at least supported me in one thing, no matter how immoral her reasons were.
Unfortunately, my one real crush was still in my life, and my mother continued asking about him. She became friends with Phillip's family, hoping this could create a better chance for me to end up with him.
My feelings for him had stayed the same. As a matter of fact, I actually started to like him even more. However, it was complicated... but I had grown mature enough to know... a nice guy like him didn't deserve to be trapped by my toxic family.
I began pushing him away. The way I treated him was no longer just teasing. I straight up bullied him whenever I got the chance. But unfortunately, this only seemed to draw him even closer to me.
Through my constant bullying, I started to notice things about him, but I learned even more about myself. No matter what I threw his way, he never spoke a single word of disrespect to me. He obviously hated me, but he could stand in the face of abuse and carry himself with more dignity than I ever could.
Meanwhile, it felt as if I was slowly turning into my mother. What initially started as me trying to push Phillip away for his own safety was now just me taking my anger towards my mother out on him.
I started to resent him for a while because he was everything that I wasn't. Seeing how successful he was and how proud his parents were was a constant reminder that I would never achieve those things.
Though I still thought of him highly enough to let him get entangled into the toxic relationship that my mother and I had, I somehow felt it was okay to become an abusive person towards him.
I knew that we would eventually stop seeing each other, and that he would go on to do great things while I turned into an absolute failure of a human being like my mother. I suppose I wanted that to happen, because at least that would prove that the world ultimately gave us what we deserved.
Eventually, I achieved what I originally planned. Phillip hated me so much that he wanted nothing more than for me to simply vanish from his life. Unfortunately, my mother had already laid the groundwork to make that impossible.
She got closer with his parents, though I'm sure they were just entertaining her by being nice. She even started inviting them to my swim meets... but only select ones... which was very problematic for me...
If I felt any pride in anything I had ever accomplished, it was my swimming. I didn't even swim for a club team, like most of the other good swimmers. But still, due to my height, my physical advantages, and me taking my frustrations out on the water, I ended up becoming one of the best swimmers in the region.
Did my mom care about any of this? Absolutely not. All she cared about was showing me off to potential suitors.
The first time she told me she was inviting Phillip and his family to one of my swim meets, I was excited, not because they were coming, but because I finally had an opportunity to impress her with my swimming. I gave her the information for a big and important swim meet that was coming up because I wanted the support. But unfortunately, she found a terrible reason not to go.
For important competitions, swimmers like me normally wear much larger suits. They not only covered the entire chest all the way down to the knees, but they're incredibly tight, flattening the chest to as little drag and friction as possible.
