Once i had lost all control of myself and was sobbing with abandon, he seemed satisfied. He jerked me off the little bench in front of my vanity by the hair and drug me to my sweet pink little bed. He used me brutally, punching and slapping me as he did so. His only instruction was, "Please me, bitch, please me," repeated over and over. When he was finished i lay panting, bleeding and aching on the bed. When he reached for me at first i cringed and he made shushing noises. "You're mine little girl. Mine to pet, mine to kick, mine to love, mine to do anything with I please. Come here like a good little girl. Come on. Come to Edward, come on and tell me that you love me." i slid across the bed to him and he enfolded me in his arms, stroking my hair with one hand. "Tell me," he whispered. "I love you," i whispered back. He squeezed me tight and and said i was a good girl, and though some part of me hated myself for it, i swelled with pride at his words.
I saw him in the mirror first. He stood across the room looking at the back of my head and my long hair. I worried for a moment that he might make me cut it. My father would flip out, he loved my long hair. But, then Edward stepped forward and stroked my locks. "You have lovely hair, its your best feature." Suddenly his hand was on my throat cutting off all my air. "Don't struggle, you're mine." I fought the urge to fight for air, trying so desperately to be still as my lungs screamed for air. Darkness closed in on me. My hands clenched to fists and he slapped me. I forced my hands to relax and sat limp as the blackness washed over me. Just before I lost consciousness he let my neck go and I choked and sputtered. Again and again he drove me to the edge of nothing. Forcing me to be passive and accepting of his torture. My life was his to do with as he pleased.
