Daniel used sex as a punishment. He knew I hated it, so he took pleasure from forcing me to take him whenever and wherever he wanted. But that didn’t stop him from ridiculing her for being the worst fuck he had ever known. I was broken goods, good for nothing, not even sex.
How would I ever expose myself and him to all that? I could take the pain… but I doubted I could take the scorn and disappointment in his face when he realized I had nothing good to offer.
“I don’t know…” I confessed, lowering my head, hoping he wouldn’t insist on the subject. All warmth and pleasure I had felt just moments ago were far gone, and I was shuddering like a leaf on the wind, fearing the outcome of this confrontation. “I was desperate… looking for a place to spend the night… the words simply came out of my mouth…” I tried to explain, even though I knew I wasn’t making any sense.
“Have you ever done that before?” he asked, clenching his jaw.
“No… never. The idea was planted in my head by two girls living at the motel where I was staying. They said I could make some money with my exotic looks…” I continued, pulling my hair out of my face with trembling fingers.
“Why did you choose me? Why not some of the other men you found on the streets, on your way here?” he asked, his tone cold and distant.
“It was getting dark very fast, and the snow kept falling… when I saw the garage door opening, I saw the opportunity to at least have a roof over my head, and I took it,” I replied. “When I realized you were throwing me out, I offered you the only thing I had… even though I was sure you would never be interested in someone like me.”
“However, you never intended to honor your offer,” he accused me, his words harsh and painful. “When I decided to accept it, you reacted as if I was some kind of monster, ready to attack you…”
He was right. But to explain my reaction, I would have to tell him all about Daniel and my failed marriage. I wasn’t ready for that.
“I’m sorry… please, believe me, I’m truly sorry,” I assured him. “I never intended to provoke you, it just happened… I wasn’t thinking clearly…”
“Go back to your room and please, stay there,” he said, turning around to leave the kitchen. “I just hope you will keep the promise you made to Susan and stay until she’s able to come back.”
I took a few steps after him before I realized what I was doing. “Are you sure you want me to do that?” I asked in a shaky tone.
“Just stay away from me,” he snarled before he walked away.
Rubbing my forehead in a vain attempt to soothe my dreadful headache, I closed the fridge and went back to my room, knowing for sure I wasn’t going to sleep that night.
Being reminded of my desperate brazen offer when I was trying to convince him to let me stay in the garage left me shaken. I should never have alluded I would give sexual favors for a roof over my head. I still couldn’t see myself letting him do whatever he wanted with me. The possibility still scared the hell out of me, even though I admitted it also aroused me a little.
Although I was off on Saturdays, I got up and dressed long before my usual hour. I wanted to have breakfast before he showed up and stay out of his sight as much as I could.
But when I reached the kitchen, I found an envelope labeled with my name. It contained my weekly pay, and a note that said I was free to do whatever I wanted up until Monday morning. He would be out of the house all day long.
Opening the envelope, I caught my breath in surprise. Inside, I found more money than I made in a month working as a dishwasher on my last job. It seemed like way too much for what I did in the house, and I wondered if he was paying me a week in advance.
After everything that had happened between us, it felt wrong to accept so much money, but for now, there wasn’t much I could do.
I forced myself to eat breakfast, and after I cleared the kitchen, I went to his bedroom to clean it up. I knew I didn’t have to, but reading all day long was just too much.
With that finished, I went back to my room and turned on the television, as I curled up on the couch. I must have fallen asleep at some point because before I knew it, I was struggling to wake up from yet another nightmare.
But could you accurately call them nightmares when they were accurate representations of things she had lived with Daniel? I didn’t know.
Even after the horrific week I had spent with Daniel at the lake house, for some reason, I still hoped things would get better when we were back in town. He had a housekeeper and a maid living in the house, so I thought he wouldn’t dare to treat me the way he had done so far with the presence of the staff in the house.
I had been right, to some degree. Daniel would play his role as a perfect husband while other people were around us, but the moment he closed the door to our bedroom, hell was unleashed.
He would rip off my clothes and fuck me wherever he got me, thrusting his cock inside me with no warning, hurting me so much my cries were heard by the staff.
The first night, the housekeeper had rushed to their room, startled with the noise, but Daniel had forced me to assured her that I loved it, that I was a masochist and could only reach pleasure through pain.
The woman had stared at me as if I had lost my mind, but she had accepted my explanation and left me to deal with Daniel's rage.
That night, he had pulled his belt from his pants and used it on me until I bled. He made sure he gagged me first, not willing to push his luck with the staff. When I was almost unconscious, lying flat on my stomach, on the bed, he had raped me a few times throughout the night, just to make sure I knew who was in charge.
That day, he locked me in the room and told the housekeeper I wasn’t to be disturbed, and the woman followed his instructions to the letter.
The pain had been so excruciating, so overwhelming I had cried all day long, bedridden, and unable to move. The slightest move would reopen the wounds on my back, and the pain was just too much.
