Sometimes They Fall Hard

**This is not a happy story. It is short and placed in this category for good reason. If this offends you, please don't read it**

"I love you, dearest."

The words run through my head over and over as I sit in the bathtub, the water slowly cooling to room temperature. "I love you." How he could dare say those words. I don't understand.

I shiver a bit; He'll be up to check on me soon. This was the only time I ever know I can be alone. Gingerly, I pick up the razor and start to carefully shave my legs. Diligently I make sure to not miss a hair. Carefully, I shave my legs, then under my arms, then slowly start to shave between my legs.

My hand is trembling. I know I'll never get this right. Carefully I shave, gently pressing the tender flesh of my lips to the side to avoid the bite of the razor. Finally, the water is cold as I feel the bare skin over my sex, I try to make sure I don't miss anything, but I have failed every time before.

I step out of the cold water and carefully start to dry off using the one white towel he left me. My reflection in the mirror barely looks like me. My brown hair has been dyed black. I've probably lost 20 pounds in the past however long it's been. I sigh as I lean against the sink. His damn words of "I love you, dearest" still run through my head. I finish drying myself off, careful of the cuts across my back.

I carefully begin to get dressed, once I am dry and sure I got every piece of hair this time. First, I put on the black leather collar, buckling it tight how he likes it. Then I pull on the sheer black dress he left for me. It hugs my gaunt frame and small chest. Maybe gaunt isn't right. I shake my head; even with looking like hell, I still weigh more than he wants. I'm still a size ten.

I take a deep breath and leave the relative safety of the bathroom. The sun has been up for a while now, and my stomach is telling me it must be close to lunchtime. I don't know what day it is or what time it is. I can barely remember the last time I saw a clock or a calendar. I take a deep breath again. My legs are trembling as I walk down the staircase to meet him in the living room.

I walk over to kneel in front of him as he sits on the sofa. He already looks upset. I kneel there not speaking, waiting for his displeasure. I know I took too long, but I was hoping the punishment would be less for that then for missing a spot. My legs are trembling as I begin to realize how wrong I was.

"You kept me waiting." The sound of rage in his voice is almost hidden -- almost. I know it's there, just lurking for me to make one wrong move.

I bow my head, "Please forgive me, sir. I am sorry." My voice is almost squeaky and my arms are now shaking. Suddenly, I am thrown a good three feet as he brings his arm across the side of my face. I didn't even see it coming.

Slowly, I pick myself up off the floor, my arm is hot from the carpet burn and I can taste the blood in my mouth. I look over at his feet as he approaches me and grabs me by the collar, yanking me up.

I can only whimper as he drags me to the couch and throws me down on it, "Don't you sass back to me bitch." No matter how I plead and beg he doesn't stop. His hand comes down on my ass, more hitting it than slapping it. I let out a scream as the pain moves through my entire leg.

He forces me to kneel with my chest against the couch. I tremble, shaking, as I know what is coming again. My legs are forced apart and the dress pushed over my head. He slaps my ass hard again, this time with the flat of his big hand, causing the flesh to burn, but not as bad as the last blow.

He pushes my ass cheeks apart, running a finger over the recently shaved flesh. He sticks a finger up my cunt as I whimper. It hurts, but not as bad as when he brought his other hand back to slap across my back. I tremble, tears running down my face as he hits the sensitive cuts on my back as he pinches my clit hard with his thumb.

Another finger up my cunt and the tears are rolling down my face. I just stare at the cushion of the sofa, ignoring the pain in my back and my cunt as he pushes a third finger into me. I try to not think of how big his hands are. My fingers clench as my body responds to him anyways. The gentle pressure on my clit and the cool breeze against my ass combine to start my cunt moistening. His fingers slow their pace, gently starting me towards forgetting the pain.

"I love you, baby." How the hell he can say that I don't know. Suddenly I feel his breath on my raw ass as his tongue flicks down to lick across the red marks from where he hit me. "You know I only hurt you because I love you, baby."

I nod, sniffling a little as I shiver. As his fingers pull out of my cunt, the cool air feels good for a minute before its replaced by his cock. He slams his entire eight inches into me, hitting me so hard I know I must be bruised. After the first time he did this, I couldn't understand why girls always talked about how big-- I wish he were smaller.

His huge cock slammed into me, as it bottomed out with each thrust, I could feel a pain in my side growing. Suddenly he pulls out, I know what was coming and try not to tense for it. If I could only relax enough it wouldn't hurt as much. I felt his cock about to enter my ass. Forcefully, he pushes it in, no preparation, no warning, nothing. His cock forces my anus open, shoving into my tight rear. The couch cushion is moist with tears as he continues.

The rest becomes a haze, I don't care or notice when he makes my body come. I barely notice when he whispers his sweet nothings in my ear. I only know the relief when he leaves me collapsed on the living room floor.

I hear the door to the deck open and he walks outside, probably to continue building the railing on the deck. For some reason fucking me makes him want to build stuff. I lie there, staring blankly ahead. I can't go on like this. He won't let me leave.

Slowly I drag myself up. Blood covers the inside of my thigh; I don't even care where it came from. Slowly I make my way over to the patio door. I won't kill myself, but I don't care any more if he does it. I know he doesn't love me, he never did. As I open the door and step onto the mostly completed deck he looks over at me, standing up. The only phone in the house is on the partially finished railing behind him.

He's bigger than me, a lot bigger, so I smile and act meek as I walk over to him. He looks pleased. As I reach him, he holds out his arms, "I love you, baby."

I lean towards his big frame, but before he can wrap his arms around me I push as hard as I can. I don't care if he pulls me down with him, I can't go on with this any more. As I push, he loses his balance, his arms flailing to regain balance he knocks the phone down and he tumbles off the side of the deck where the railing still isn't finished. I can't move for a second. Tentatively, I walk towards the edge to peer down. It's a good fifteen feet if not more and it's all rocks down there.

He is lying there, not moving. I watch him for a second, his right leg at a weird angle and the rocks covered with his blood. I drop to my knees, free. That's when the tears started to really come, the relief washing over my body as I can finally relax without worrying about him. Then I hear it -- a moan. I look down and see him crawling towards the phone.