Page 63 of Trust In Me

“So, I’ve decided that tomorrow will be the start of our new lives together. Tomorrow we will start our lives as a married couple. I’m sick of waiting. So, this will be your last night of freedom. I have everything set up. We will get married tomorrow.”

What the fuck? Is he serious right now? I think he’s very fucking serious, if his steely gaze is anything to go by. That sadistic smirk lets me know he means what he says. This isn’t open for discussion as far as he’s concerned. But he can fuck right off if he thinks I’ll let him do this without a fight.

“You can’t force me to marry you, Kyle. There isn’t a legal officiant in the country who will marry us once they see you’re doing it by force,” I retort, hoping like hell that’s actually true. His responding cackle lets me know he already thought of that.

“Oh, you would be very mistaken. I’ve already found someone. He will be here tomorrow, and he’s more than happy to make sure the marriage will be legally binding, no matter how reluctant you may seem during the wedding. I think now would be a good time to tell you exactly what I expect from you, not only during the wedding, but through our entire marriage,” Kyle replies, his tone far too happy.

I freeze, unsure of what to say. It seems like he has an answer for anything I’m going to say. Before I even have a chance to think about this, an overwhelming painful sensation spreads over my scalp, as Kyle grabs hold of my hair into his fist, dragging me across the bed. As he pulls me, I reach to grab hold of his hand, trying to pry it from my hair, and I thrash around, desperate to get away from him. My scalp burns, and the fear that’s pooling in my stomach is now very much alive.

His voice takes on an even more menacing tone. “The first thing you need to learn, my Little Bunny, is that you will NEVER ignore me! Whenever I speak to you, it’s imperative you respond to me. You will refer to me as ‘Sir’. Is that understood?”

I try to nod my head, but I’m limited by what I can do. He continues to grip hold of my hair tightly, ensuring I remain laying on my back, my head closest to where he’s standing.

SLAP!

Pain spreads across my cheek as his other hand makes contact, hard. I actually hear the slap of his palm against my cheek before I feel the pain. My head’s thrown to the side with the force of the blow, and I reach up to cup my cheek.

“You are not learning, whore. What did I literally just say to you?” he snarls, his face just inches from mine. His tobacco-infused breath is right in front of me, offending my nose and causing my stomach to roll. Normally, I take deep breaths to try to stabilise when I feel nauseous, but I can’t do that here.

I try to focus, thinking back to what he said, so I can do as I’m told. Anything to avoid getting hit again. But I must’ve taken too long to answer, as Kyle throws his fist into my stomach. Pain explodes in my gut and I instinctively draw my knees up to my chest, trying to tuck my arm around where he hit me. Fuck, spasms of pain continue long after the blow and I can’t think straight. Tears roll down my face as I try to catch my breath.

There’s a ringing in my ears, no doubt from the overwhelming pain, and it means I can’t quite hear what Kyle is saying, but I’m guessing it has something to do with me doing as I’m told. With emotion clogging my throat, in between gasps, I tell him what he’s waiting to hear. “I understand…Sir.” I tag the last part on quickly, and the sadistic smile that widens across his face makes me feel even sicker.

“Good girl. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Sadistic fuck. Once again, he doesn’t even give me a chance to answer before he rains three more punches down on my ribs and abdomen. The pain becomes too much and I cry out, tears rolling down my face as I beg and plead for him to stop. I try to curl up into a ball, desperate to protect all my major organs.

“Please, Sir…please stop. It hurts.” My pleas are loud and desperate. The pain in my ribs makes it excruciating to take in a full breath. Whenever I do, there's a sharp, stabbing sensation that prevents me from inhaling fully. Fuck, I could have a rib fracture.

“Are you ready to learn the rest of the rules now?” he asks, pulling me by my hair until I’m sitting up on the edge of the bed. I don’t like this position, it leaves me far too exposed.

“Yes, Sir,” I mumble, making sure I gave him the title he’s desperate for me to use.

“Good. Now I finally have your attention. I’m going to tell you what I expect of my wife. Firstly, you will call me Sir at all times, and respond whenever I address you. You will never embarrass or contradict me. You will keep your appearance up to the highest standards. To facilitate this, I will book and pay for regular appointments for your hair, and waxing. You will make sure your cunt is bald at all times. If and when required, you will undertake any plastic surgery needed to keep you looking as young as possible. The most important part is that whilst you will appear to be the perfect housewife to the outside world, when it comes to the bedroom, you are my whore. You will do whatever I tell you. You will take whatever I give, in any hole I choose. You will not complain, you will simply beg for more. Do I make myself clear?” he snarls.

I try to formulate words, but the blow I sustained has obviously caused some damage because all I can concentrate on is trying to breathe. The pain is unbearable. Clearly it takes me too long to reply to Kyle, as he lets go of my hair, causing me to slump down while I try to sit up on the bed, and he rains down more blows than I can count.

Slaps ricochet across my face, causing my ears to ring and my head to ache. But he doesn’t stop there. In between slaps, he punches my abdomen, ribs, and sides. Pain echoes around my body and I don’t know what to do. I only have two fucking hands to use to block the blows, and whenever I manage to block one body part, he simply finds another free area.

I can’t hold myself up any further, the pain vibrates all over my body, and I slide from the bed into a crumpled sobbing heap on the floor. “Please…Kyle…Sir… N-no mo-more… S-stop. Please,” I sob hysterically, begging for Kyle to stop.

His hands stop pummelling my poor, broken body, and instead he begins tearing at my clothes. The t-shirt I’m wearing is ripped clean off my body, and while my hands are protecting my abdomen, Kyle begins ripping off my jeans. That’s when I really start to panic. I know exactly where this is going. Fuck, I’ve been here far too many fucking times before. It’s obvious what Kyle’s intention is, and I can’t allow that to happen.

Since I found my freedom, and Kellan taught me to take back control of my body, I hoped that I’d never find myself in this position again. I gave my body to Kellan, and I don’t intend on giving myself to anyone else. Kyle’s trying to take something that belongs to Kellan, and it breaks my heart. Kyle seems to realise that he’s finally broken me.

Grabbing hold of my hair, he pulls me up until I’m sitting on my knees at his feet. The scream that rips from my body is music to Kyle’s ears, and that sadistic grin spreads across his face. When I first met Kyle, all those years ago, I actually thought he was quite cute. His face is all angles, and it’s something he’s grown into. With the exception of a bit of a beer belly that he appears to be developing, he looks the same. The older he’s got, the more sick and sadistic he’s become.

“Look at you. Those titties have gotten bigger. Normally I would prefer a younger-looking body, but I can definitely get on board with bigger tits. Take your bra off,” Kyle instructs, and I don’t even hesitate. What would be the point? If I were to object, Kyle would just beat me further.

Pulling the black lace bra away from my body, I place it on the floor, and avert my eyes. Humiliation and shame floods my body, a blush spreading across my cheeks as I keep my eyes firmly downcast. All I have left covering my throbbing, painful body is a small pair of black lace short panties, and given the predatory look in Kyle’s eyes, they won’t be on for very much longer. I need to push beyond the crippling pain I feel so that I can start thinking logically.

“Sir, I am very sorry for any offence I have caused you. That was never my intention. Please accept my humblest of apologies, and allow me to make it up to you,” I mumble, the words tasting like bile on my tongue. But, if I don’t play Kyle’s game, there’s a very real possibility he could kill me.

“Look at you, Little Bunny. You’re learning. I like hearing that you will do anything for me, but I already knew that you would. You’ve always been a natural submissive little slut.” His words burn me, humiliating me further, and the damage he’s doing to my confidence is far worse than any damage he’s done to my body. “I forgot how fucking good you look on your knees. Now, tell me what you’re going to do to make it up to me.”

I take a deep breath, as much as the pain in my ribs will allow, and I try to focus my mind. This is going to be my main chance at getting this right. I need to embrace all the training I’ve spent years trying to put behind me, to manipulate Kyle without him realising that’s what I’m doing. “Well, Sir, firstly I want to thank you for giving me another chance. I know I’ve let you down and have humiliated you with my actions. I can only apologise greatly for that, and promise it won’t happen again. I’m thrilled that you still want to marry me, and I can’t wait to become your wife.” I flutter my eyelashes and smile up at him through hooded eyes, trying to give off the sweet, submissive impression he gets off on.

“Obviously, I’m going to have to punish you for the humiliation, but your apology goes a long way, Little Bunny. I’m so excited to marry you tomorrow. Once you are my wife, there will be nothing holding us back.” Kyle smiles, and I try to amp up my manipulation.

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