Then
I endured more abuse from Michael, but I welcomed it—it meant that he paid attention to me. All that I wanted was for him to keep telling me that I was his, and he continued to do so. He would hurt me in some way or another during sex and I would come for him, then he’d come inside of me. I never spent any time with him outside of sex and the aftercare he’d provide, ensuring I remained obsessed with him after he hurt me, stringing me along. He even said that to me while he bathed me one night after using all of my holes for his pleasure.
“One day, you’re not going to be as obsessed with me as you are now. It will be over, and you won’t want to be mine anymore.”
I gasped as I looked up at him sitting at the edge of the tub.
“That will never happen, Daddy. I will love you until the day I die,” I said with tears already flowing down my cheeks, dripping into the bath water.
“No. You will tire of me. It always happens.” He shook his head at me knowingly.
I was getting upset now. “It’s not going to happen with me. I love you more than anything, Daddy.”
Now his jaw was clenching. “You don’t know what love is, Jackie. You’re just a little girl who hangs onto my every word. You don’t even know me.”
I began to tremble. Why was he being so cruel?
“Are you trying to get rid of me?” I asked with frustration.
He looked down at me with absolutely nothing in his eyes. “If I wanted you gone, you’d be gone.”
I somehow found that comforting; I’m still here—I’m still his.
“Why can’t I stay with you? Just for one night?” I was desperate to be in his presence, even when he was spiteful.
He smiled as he pulled the plug from the drain. He liked my desperation. “Those are the rules, baby.”
I stood up as he took a towel and wrapped it around my body. “Can’t we break the rules for just one night?” My whiny voice was repulsive.
“No. The rules are there for a reason,” he said, running his finger gently across my collarbone. “And once they’re broken, nothing will ever be the same.”