Little Lady
Capítulo uno
"You're fucking weak!" The emphasis on the 'fucking' part caused his saliva to spontaneously dance from his lips onto my face—that was the least of my worries though.
"You're weak!" He repeated and the back of his hand smashed against my right cheek, forcing my head to turn left, the force caused my teeth to accidentally sink into my bottom lip. Tears sprang in my eyes but I knew I couldn't cry, I wouldn't let him know he had complete control—even though I was collapsed messily on the floor, leaning my back against the wall because my spine had decided to just give the fuck in and no longer support me, and he was towering over me on two steady feet—I just couldn't let him know he was winning. The foul taste of blood entered my mouth and I twisted my face in distaste, which caused my cheek to sting even more. I brought my hand up to my right cheek, willing the stinging pain to just fuck off and leave me, along with the stranger and maybe even the life inside me. All of it.
I looked up, his eyes were so dark I didn't know where the pupil met the iris, I contemplated pleading with my eyes but decided against it, I wouldn't beg to be released, I wouldn't plead, I wanted to leave with my pride still intact—If I ever left that is.
"You're pathetic, just some whore, you'll never be nothing than a whore" his voice was ice cold and I felt that cold stab me repeatedly as his words sunk in: pathetic, just some whore, nothing. That sounded about right, but I didn't want it to be.
"You picked me up, remember" I reminded him shakily "Where does that place you? What does that make you?" I snarled, well, I did my best to snarl but my hoarse throat wasn't really co-operating so it came out choked up and not nearly as angry and fearless as I'd hoped it would.
I knew I shouldn't have spoken, I knew I should have just submitted to his dominance, but I didn't, and I was rewarded with a punch, right in the damn face. Fuck! I grabbed my nose and I couldn't hold the tears back anymore, I howled in pain and they ran down my cheeks, meeting the blood from my nose in the middle and racing towards my chin.
"You'll have to speak up next time, I didn't quite hear that" his smile was crooked and if it wasn't already so freezing cold in this place I might have shivered—nope I definitely would have shivered. "Would you like to repeat what you said, whore?" He asked, his voice soft but I didn't mistake it as comforting, it had a dangerous edge to the tone of it, like he was holding back all his anger right now so he can let it all out at a later time. I just looked at him, I don't know what expression was on my face, hate, anger, desperation? But I just kept my eyes locked on his, trying to show strength and confidence. When his gaze didn't falter and he didn't look away I dropped my gaze, looking down at my tight leather black dress. "That's what I thought" he smirked at my defeat.
I let my head loll to the side as my vision blurred and I tried not to empty the contents of my stomach all over the floor—something I'd surely get beaten up further for. Metal rattled as he began fastening his belt back up, I wanted so desperately to pull my dress back down and cover my exposed body but I lacked even one ounce of energy (and in all honesty there wasn't much of a dress left). He'd sliced my black leather dress right down the middle, so I was now wearing it like a jacket that doesn't have a zipper. "I'll see you later, sweetheart" he crouched down and stroked my cheek softly, a smirk stretched onto his face, his eyes flickering with excitement and danger. I wanted to scream, I wanted to hit him, smash the smirk right off of his face, break his nose, call for help and run out. But my body was a dead-weight, no longer belonging to me nor functioning when my brain told it to.
My skin crawled at his touch but I didn't move, I just averted my eyes from his features, hoping to prevent his face from engraving itself into my mind, burning there for all eternity, so that even when this was over, I'd still remember it. He picked me up under my armpits and dragged me a few inches up to the wall where I was previously...before...well yeah you get it. He sat me against the wall, my arms splayed heavily out beside me like they weren't even mine and my body slumping lazily against the wall.
"I'll be back soon, sweetheart" and there that smirk was again. I felt the threat in his voice, the promise in his words, he'd be back. My stomach lurched. Don't you dare throw up, don't you dare! I screamed internally at myself, but even the voice inside my head was incapable of screaming, beaten down and battered, just like me. I knew the voice was right though, I couldn't puke, not right now. He rose to his feet and pulled up the zipper on his jeans, giving me a wink, I looked away again and shuddered. His footsteps were loud as he exited the room, thudding against the floor, I heard the front door slam and I exhaled, unaware I'd even been holding my breath and how long I'd been holding it for.
The tears fell harder than ever, I'd become accustomed to this, this happened to me all the time, but that didn't make it any less shitty, any less disgusting.
I have to get out of here, I thought, I have to get out and get help.
Who would help a whore like you? Ha, don't be ridiculous!—The pessimistic half of my brain responded to my previous thought from the optimistic side.
And I completely lost it, my stomach contents forced their way up my oesophagus and I began vigorously vomitting right next to myself, it didn't matter though, what did a bit of vomit matter? Compared to everything else that was going on. I had dried blood from underneath my nose, down to my chin and all over my cleavage; just because the blood had dried that didn't stop my nose throbbing, it felt the size of Jupiter and I didn't dare touch it.
My eyelids grew heavy from hysterically crying. 'Emotional stress can exhaust you faster than physical exercise, for example, if one day puts a lot of stress on you, it can exhaust you beyond belief, keep you up at night, make you restless etcetera. Whereas if you do vigorous exercise, you tire, you sleep and you're well rested after that, so be kind to yourself, don't worry yourselves with things you can't change' the words my favourite teacher in high school had said to me rang through my head. I definitely was exhausted. And it was a combination of the former and the latter.
My eyelids felt weighed down, I could barely keep them open, no no no I needed to stay awake, alert. My eyelids kept fighting though, sliding down and closing for a few moments before I'd realize and wake myself up.
Eventually they won the battle and I fell into a deep, pitch black, lonesome slumber. My body shifted to the left and I ended up lying in my own vomit. Fantastic.
"You're weak!" He repeated and the back of his hand smashed against my right cheek, forcing my head to turn left, the force caused my teeth to accidentally sink into my bottom lip. Tears sprang in my eyes but I knew I couldn't cry, I wouldn't let him know he had complete control—even though I was collapsed messily on the floor, leaning my back against the wall because my spine had decided to just give the fuck in and no longer support me, and he was towering over me on two steady feet—I just couldn't let him know he was winning. The foul taste of blood entered my mouth and I twisted my face in distaste, which caused my cheek to sting even more. I brought my hand up to my right cheek, willing the stinging pain to just fuck off and leave me, along with the stranger and maybe even the life inside me. All of it.
I looked up, his eyes were so dark I didn't know where the pupil met the iris, I contemplated pleading with my eyes but decided against it, I wouldn't beg to be released, I wouldn't plead, I wanted to leave with my pride still intact—If I ever left that is.
"You're pathetic, just some whore, you'll never be nothing than a whore" his voice was ice cold and I felt that cold stab me repeatedly as his words sunk in: pathetic, just some whore, nothing. That sounded about right, but I didn't want it to be.
"You picked me up, remember" I reminded him shakily "Where does that place you? What does that make you?" I snarled, well, I did my best to snarl but my hoarse throat wasn't really co-operating so it came out choked up and not nearly as angry and fearless as I'd hoped it would.
I knew I shouldn't have spoken, I knew I should have just submitted to his dominance, but I didn't, and I was rewarded with a punch, right in the damn face. Fuck! I grabbed my nose and I couldn't hold the tears back anymore, I howled in pain and they ran down my cheeks, meeting the blood from my nose in the middle and racing towards my chin.
"You'll have to speak up next time, I didn't quite hear that" his smile was crooked and if it wasn't already so freezing cold in this place I might have shivered—nope I definitely would have shivered. "Would you like to repeat what you said, whore?" He asked, his voice soft but I didn't mistake it as comforting, it had a dangerous edge to the tone of it, like he was holding back all his anger right now so he can let it all out at a later time. I just looked at him, I don't know what expression was on my face, hate, anger, desperation? But I just kept my eyes locked on his, trying to show strength and confidence. When his gaze didn't falter and he didn't look away I dropped my gaze, looking down at my tight leather black dress. "That's what I thought" he smirked at my defeat.
I let my head loll to the side as my vision blurred and I tried not to empty the contents of my stomach all over the floor—something I'd surely get beaten up further for. Metal rattled as he began fastening his belt back up, I wanted so desperately to pull my dress back down and cover my exposed body but I lacked even one ounce of energy (and in all honesty there wasn't much of a dress left). He'd sliced my black leather dress right down the middle, so I was now wearing it like a jacket that doesn't have a zipper. "I'll see you later, sweetheart" he crouched down and stroked my cheek softly, a smirk stretched onto his face, his eyes flickering with excitement and danger. I wanted to scream, I wanted to hit him, smash the smirk right off of his face, break his nose, call for help and run out. But my body was a dead-weight, no longer belonging to me nor functioning when my brain told it to.
My skin crawled at his touch but I didn't move, I just averted my eyes from his features, hoping to prevent his face from engraving itself into my mind, burning there for all eternity, so that even when this was over, I'd still remember it. He picked me up under my armpits and dragged me a few inches up to the wall where I was previously...before...well yeah you get it. He sat me against the wall, my arms splayed heavily out beside me like they weren't even mine and my body slumping lazily against the wall.
"I'll be back soon, sweetheart" and there that smirk was again. I felt the threat in his voice, the promise in his words, he'd be back. My stomach lurched. Don't you dare throw up, don't you dare! I screamed internally at myself, but even the voice inside my head was incapable of screaming, beaten down and battered, just like me. I knew the voice was right though, I couldn't puke, not right now. He rose to his feet and pulled up the zipper on his jeans, giving me a wink, I looked away again and shuddered. His footsteps were loud as he exited the room, thudding against the floor, I heard the front door slam and I exhaled, unaware I'd even been holding my breath and how long I'd been holding it for.
The tears fell harder than ever, I'd become accustomed to this, this happened to me all the time, but that didn't make it any less shitty, any less disgusting.
I have to get out of here, I thought, I have to get out and get help.
Who would help a whore like you? Ha, don't be ridiculous!—The pessimistic half of my brain responded to my previous thought from the optimistic side.
And I completely lost it, my stomach contents forced their way up my oesophagus and I began vigorously vomitting right next to myself, it didn't matter though, what did a bit of vomit matter? Compared to everything else that was going on. I had dried blood from underneath my nose, down to my chin and all over my cleavage; just because the blood had dried that didn't stop my nose throbbing, it felt the size of Jupiter and I didn't dare touch it.
My eyelids grew heavy from hysterically crying. 'Emotional stress can exhaust you faster than physical exercise, for example, if one day puts a lot of stress on you, it can exhaust you beyond belief, keep you up at night, make you restless etcetera. Whereas if you do vigorous exercise, you tire, you sleep and you're well rested after that, so be kind to yourself, don't worry yourselves with things you can't change' the words my favourite teacher in high school had said to me rang through my head. I definitely was exhausted. And it was a combination of the former and the latter.
My eyelids felt weighed down, I could barely keep them open, no no no I needed to stay awake, alert. My eyelids kept fighting though, sliding down and closing for a few moments before I'd realize and wake myself up.
Eventually they won the battle and I fell into a deep, pitch black, lonesome slumber. My body shifted to the left and I ended up lying in my own vomit. Fantastic.
Notes
New story! So stoked :)This story will feature Vic and Mike. I'm not sure if Jaime and Tony will be in this story (if they do pop up somewhere their parts probably won't be very big or significant)
Also, Pierce The Veil do not exist in this story.
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Thanks for reading:)
SEQUEL !
1/17/14