Then
Months went by with radio silence from Michael. I had given up on him, only because I had no other choice. I tried to blackmail him and failed miserably. I tried to make him love me but I couldn’t. I continued to watch him and Hana from afar and drank myself into oblivion. I watched as they moved into a fancy condo in Chelsea. I saw the ring on Hana’s finger as they went out on dates. I watched as they met at Battery Park during lunch hour, making out in front of everyone as they sat on a bench in the tree-lined park. Michael would glance over his shoulder and glare at me, then wrap his arm snugly around Hana. I was crushed; I was never going to get him back, and I wanted to die. I had nothing; I had no one. I was far too fucked up to be able to continue my life. I would never be happy, not without him.
But one cold February night, as I sat on the floor of my dimly lit room, tipping back a 40 oz bottle and feeling the burn of the alcohol down my throat, my phone began to buzz. My heart nearly stopped when I saw who was calling. A wave of nausea hit me, and I almost puked. With trembling hands, I instantly answered.
“Michael?” My voice cracked.
“Sweet Jackie.” His voice was chipper, far from his usual tone; I figured he was drunk. “What’s my baby doing?”
My heart pounded as tears filled my eyes. “I’m—I’m not doing anything. Why are you calling me?” I was too confused to understand what was happening.
Michael laughed on the other end. “Come over, baby. Please. I want to see you. I’ve got a new place in Williamsburg.”
My mouth flew wide open. I had been dreaming of this day for months. He sounded so normal, so unlike his usual cruel, dominant self. I didn’t know how to react.
“Okay. Do you want me over right now?” I asked hesitantly.
He chuckled again. “Yes, sweet Jackie. Come now. I’m texting you my address.” He hung up.
I received his address not long after. He was only a couple of short train rides away. I quickly got into the shower, threw on some clothes, and headed for the train. Twenty minutes later, I was standing at his front door, watching my shaky fist carefully knock. Michael quickly opened the door, and my heart dropped; he stood there wearing nothing but boxer briefs with his hard cock bulging underneath. His fucking abs and arms and thick, muscled thighs made my mouth water. And oddly enough, he was smiling at me.
“Sweet Jackie. Come in, baby.” He held the door open and gestured for me to come in.
I looked around his fancy apartment. There were floor-to-ceiling windows in the two-story space, offering stunning views of Manhattan across the river. But I didn’t have much time to take it in; I heard the door close behind me, and Michael was quickly standing behind me, slipping his hands up the front of my shirt after shrugging off my jacket. I could smell the alcohol on him, but I already knew he had been drinking.
“Mmm, your nice, big, perky tits,” he whispered in my ear, then pressed his lips to my neck.
My heart began to stomp furiously in my chest, his touch instantly making me wet between my thighs. I closed my eyes and basked in his gentle touch. Had I finally died and this was my reward?
“Does my good girl want Daddy’s cock?” His voice was soothing as he pressed his lips to my shoulder, pressing his hard cock against my ass.
“Yes, please, Daddy,” I moaned as goosebumps prickled my body.
Michael suddenly pulled both of my arms behind me, holding my wrists in place with one hand. I watched as he pulled rope out of the console table in the hallway where we stood. I stood there patiently as he tied my wrists together, then ripped my thin T-shirt apart, exposing my breasts to the cold air. He hooked his thumbs into my jeans at each hip and quickly pulled them down along with my underwear. I stepped out of them and waited for his next move.
“On your knees, sweet Jackie. Eyes on the floor.”
I smiled as I dropped down to my knees and kept my eyes pointed down at the floor in front of me. Michael slowly walked in my view and I heard the motions of him jerking off.
“God, look at my sweet Jackie, with my name carved all over you. My property. Such a beautiful fucking sight to see,” he gruffed. “You haven’t shown anyone else, have you?” It was more of a statement than a question.
I quickly shook my head. “No, Daddy.”
“Why not?”
I blinked down at the floor. “Because I love you, Daddy. I only want you.”
He laughed loudly. “So fucking desperate. My pretty, sweet Jackie. How did you become so fucking weak?”
Tears began welling in my eyes. I didn’t know how to answer, or if he even wanted me to.
“Doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you belong to me. You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?” His voice was booming and becoming more and more sinister as he spoke.
My tears began to stream down my face. “Yes, Daddy.”
Michael put his hand to the back of my head and tugged on my hair, forcing me to look up at him; his eyes were dark and angry.
“You’re mine, Jackie. All. Fucking. Mine. Do you understand?”
Amidst the suffocating fear, there was a strange, twisted hope settling into my chest. “Yes, Daddy. I understand.”
He quickly slapped me hard across the cheek and the pain made me scream out.
His words spit out at me. “You are bound to me. You will always be mine. You will do as I say and you will be my fucking pet until you die.”
I began to sob; I didn’t know why he was so angry when I was being so compliant. All I could do was nod and say, “Yes, Daddy.”
“All of you fucking women are the same, do you know that? Such weak, pathetic pieces of shit.”
He walked around me and pushed me down onto the floor with his foot, face first; I had nothing to stop my fall with my arms being bound as my head hit the floor with a bang. Michael lifted up my hips and my knees steadied on the floor, and I screamed as his hard cock pushed deep inside of me.
“So fucking wet, my sweet Jackie. Such a fucking whore,” he spit out, digging his nails into the flesh of my hips as he thrust quickly in and out of me.
I lost count of the amount of times he slapped down hard on my ass. He wasn’t just tapping me—he was beating me. He was taking out whatever pent up anger he had on me. All I could think was that Hana had left him; she found out who he really was and she left him. I hated that I was relieved, that I had him to myself again.
Michael grabbed me by the hair and lifted me up against his chest, putting his hand to my throat with his other hand and squeezing tight—so tight that I quickly passed out with him still inside of me, fucking me hard.
I woke up with my arms and legs tied to his bed. I was lightheaded, and my throat felt bruised. It was dark, and I couldn’t see anything except for a faint light in another room. In the distance, I heard the sound of running water. The water suddenly stopped, and a moment later, Michael walked out, dripping wet, eyeing me with a sinister smile.
“Sweet Jackie. You’ve revived. Are you ready for more?”
My throat ached as I whispered, “Yes, Daddy.”
I would do anything to please him, to make him happy, just so I could be his again.
He laughed as he walked over to his dresser and grabbed something small. It was so dark that I couldn’t see what it was. He slowly walked to his bedside table and turned on the lamp, revealing what was in his hand—a sharp knife. No…oh God, not again .
“I thought it might be more fun to fuck you while I carve my name into you again. Perhaps your arms this time?” He spoke so lightly, as if he were talking about the weather, as he hopped on top of me, straddling me.
“Please, no, Daddy,” I cried, tugging on my bound arms and legs.
“No?” He raised his eyebrows angrily. “You don’t get to say no, sweet Jackie. I own you and your body. I will do as I please.”
I began to cry as he turned around and loosened the rope around my ankles. I didn’t bother to try to fight—it would just anger him more. He made another elaborate knot with my ankles tied to my thighs so I was spread open for him, but unable to move. He lifted my hips up and thrust himself inside of me, holding onto the knife as he smiled down at me, grabbing my breast with his free hand. He quickly pulled out of me and forced himself in my ass, the lubrication from my pussy enough to slide himself inside, but it still hurt. He then held the knife up in his right hand, stilled his hips, and lifted up his left arm in the air. He began to cut himself methodically, and I watched in horror as he spelled out her name—Hana’s name. My chest burned with jealousy.
“See? I’ll never be yours, Jackie,” he hissed as he finished the last A , blood slowly sliding down his arm, then looked back down at me. “But you? You’ll always be mine.”
He put the bloody knife to my arm and began to carve into me; I cried as the pain seared through my upper half. He began to move his hips, fucking my ass again, as he took a break from my arm.
“I’m gonna fucking come inside of you while you bleed for me,” he spit out angrily. “And then I’m gonna slice your other arm as I make you come for me.”
I kept silent—I couldn’t even scream. My whole body went numb as he came inside of me, the blood dripping from my arm onto his bed. And as if he knew how defeated I felt, he began to rub my clit with his bloody finger. I tried to deny myself of the pleasure, tried to make my body understand that this was not supposed to feel good, not now. But as Michael furiously rubbed my clit, he began to move his hips again, and I screamed out with vexing pleasure as I came under his rough touch.
My body went numb again as Michael laughed and took the knife to my arm. He finished his name on each side of me, and I passed out knowing that someday—someday soon—I was going to die. Not because of him, but for him.