"Burgers AGAIN?!?" Rob's voice shook the walls. He'd just come home from work and I served what I could for dinner. "Where's the meatloaf you'd promised?"
I served the macaroni and cheese I'd made from scratch as best I could with only two stove burners and a microwave. "I made meatloaf slices, since the oven is still not working." I try not to shake noticeably.
"I told you to buy and change the heating element! Do I have to do everything MYSELF?!" Rob stands and towers over me. I smell the beer on his breath. He smacks his plate, overturning it. It shatters on the floor, his dinner ruined. "I'm going to the bar to watch the game." He steps around me as I start to clean up the mess.
"Get the damned heating element for the damn oven. I want a REAL dinner before the weekend!" His demand sounds reasonable without the extenuating circumstances.
"I don't have the money." I continue to clean up the mess he made so that I at least look busy.
"Where the hell did your money go?" He almost sounded curious instead of accusatory.
"To the light bill."
"I gave you money for the light bill!"
"That was last month. I paid for the lights, the water and the phones this month. You paid the internet and cable, for your sports channels. The internet and cable you opted for auto-pay so you never miss out." His selfishness doesn't bother me anymore. I would rather him be content with his sports channels than have him blame me for going without.
"That's right! I'm the man of the house! I provide for you! Remember that!" He slams the door on his way out. He's too drunk to understand all that I have said.
I pray, again, that he gets caught in another DUI stop. I need the sleep. Not that he will stay in jail for any length of time. With family and friends in the police force and the court system. Hell, three of the deputies are his drinking buddies! He will get pardoned, excused or sent to therapy. He will tell anyone who will listen that it is my fault, that I am trying to poison him.
My name is Grace Campbell. My maiden name is Dunn, but my family knows nothing about the predicament I'm in. I hide the body bruises. Rob has pushed me down and pulled me by my hair, but nothing too strenuous. It's not abuse. He's just a mean drunk.
We live in an old farm house in Rainelle, West Virginia. It's supposed to be a rental, but his father pays for it. Joseph Campbell does not want his son to be "a disappointment, despite the low-class trash that he married." Yes, he means me.
I work to pay the bills. Rob goes to the bar and drinks much of his paycheck. I've applied for a higher paying job at the Walmart where I work. I've been able to keep the lights on and food on the table, if not the extras for repairs and painting that the house needs. I hope that helps with the depression I've been feeling lately.
Rob may be stepping out on me, due to my depression. He says that I don't give him enough attention. He wants me to be home when he is. That is why I opted to go to work starting at 6 a.m. That means that I usually get home at 3:30 to clean the house and make dinner for when he gets home at about 5:30. I'm also showered and dressed for dinner so I don't hear him complain about my smell. It's the least I can do.
I calmly ate my portion of the dinner I made and put up the leftovers. I added a salad to my dinner, because I like it so much. Bagged salads with a few cherry tomatoes makes it so easy to eat healthier. I clean up after myself and put the dishes away. I take out the trash. I check the refrigerator to make sure there is a new 12 pack of beer cooling, then I get ready for bed and a night of reading.
I get in bed and open my laptop computer and check my bank balance. I notice a transfer of $100 to my husband's account from mine. I sigh. He's going to the bar using my money. He made the notation "bills" for the reason for the transfer. Of course, I can't see his bank account. He has given his father access to his bank account. Joseph is allowed to pay our bills or not, as he sees fit. Joseph is also Rob's boss in the construction company. I honestly think that Rob would not have a job if his father didn't own the business. At least my savings account is safe. It's only $15 a month, but at least it's there if we need it. I transfer $100 from savings to cover the bills that have not yet come out of checking before I close the computer and pull out my mystery book for a couple of chapters. I know that 9 p.m. is an early night, but I need sleep to work in the morning. Saturdays are busy.
....
"GRACE!!!" The slamming door indicates that Rob is home. The male giggling lets me know he's not alone.
"Be careful. You will survive this." I don't know where that came from. As soon as I thought someone was whispering in my ear, it was gone.
"COME ENTERTAIN OUR GUESTS!" Rob is not requesting. He is demanding. I check my t-shirt and shorts, making sure that nothing is too loose, then I make my way down the stairs.
Rob, and two of his friends are scattered around the living room seating. They have already found the 12-pack and helped themselves. Rob puts his beer down to grab me and kiss me deeply, smacking my ass. This is a new one for me, so I just accept the embarrassment. Hopefully, the friends are too drunk to remember this in the morning. Rob smacks my ass again and I know what's next.
"C'mon upstairs, baby." I try to move toward the stairs, but he doesn't budge.
"Nah. This is our house. We can do it wherever we want." His friends, John and Tim stop giggling and their eyes show interest, even fascination. My blood runs cold.
"C'mon, baby. You know I'm shy." I try again to lead him upstairs. I'm rewarded with another smack on the ass, harder this time.
"You'll do as I say, woman." Three more smacks. He turns me around and puts my hands on the back of an armchair. My t-shirt is right in Tim's face. "I told you to entertain our guests. Take your shirt off."
"Rob, no, please...." I plead quietly.
Rob spanks me hard. "Don't contradict me!" He takes his pocket knife and tears the front of my shirt from the bottom to the top. Tim now had my breasts in his face. Tears start to escape my eyes. Rob starts spanking me in earnest. He starts in a slow rhythm, delighting as my breasts brush against Tim's cheeks and lips.
Tim had broken up with his girlfriend weeks ago. John is married, happily, according to Rob. Rob brought Tim here to torture him with me as the torture device. I'm afraid, wondering how far this will go.
My backside is on fire when Tim gives in and takes my left nipple in his mouth. Rob rips my shorts down and shoves himself inside me. I scream in pain. Tim bites hard on my nipples, one after the other. "That's right. Scream my whore. This is my pussy and I can give it away if I want to, to whomever I want to."
"No, Rob, NO!" I'm crying, now. I start to struggle. I know not to hit Tim. That's why Rob brought these two. These are two of his cop friends. No matter what happens, if I hit one or the other, I go to jail for assaulting a police officer. If I hit Rob, I go to jail for spousal abuse.
Rob is holding my waist and still screwing me. He's laughing, knowing that I can't escape him. I keep crying and screaming with pain. Tim is oblivious, enjoying my struggles and using his hands to steady each breast. Rob finishes and puts me on my knees in front of Tim. "Your turn, Tim."
"Please, Rob, no." I quietly plead again, my throat raw, as Tim moves into position.
"Shut up and suck my dick like you mean it, whore." I take him in my mouth and try to stop crying, knowing that I need to breathe through my nose. Tim is taking his turn inside me and I try to concentrate on Rob's pleasure. Maybe if he enjoys himself he will take it easier on me later. When he and Tim finish, I hope that this experience is over.
"That was good, my whore. Now you need to entertain our other guest. Go suck him off. There's a good girl."
I obey, knowing I have no option. I crawl over to John on my hands and knees. I feel used and beaten. I continue with John, finishing him off. I want to shower before going back to bed, but Rob has other ideas. "We need fresh beers. Go fetch them."
"Okay, Rob." My voice is raspy. I walk to the kitchen, practically naked, and get three more beers from the refrigerator. I get another 6-pack that I had stashed away under the sink and put it in to cool. I hand the beers to John and Tim and open the beer before handing Rob his. I'm tempted to take a sip, or spit, but the fight has gone out of me.
"Now go shower before you mess up the bed." He smacks my ass, sending me off, laughing when I whimper. "THAT'S how you control your woman!" I hear Rob gloat as I make my way up the stairs. His friends laugh in reply.
I'm used to getting spanked. Rob started that little kink last year. I'm accustomed to sex in the living room with the drapes wide open to the neighbors. Rob has called me a whore before. Tonight was a new low. He's never treated me like this. I wonder what I could have done to make him this angry at me. I shower carefully, knowing that I don't have the energy to find out tonight. I have two hours before I have to be awake for work. I use some relaxation techniques to calm my mind so I can get some sleep and function in the morning.