Fridays at Stacy's

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY APARTMENT!" Derek looked over me, the veins on his large biceps visible from miles away.
"Please baby don't do this..." I leaned into him and put a hand on his arm, trying to sooth him.
"Get the fuck out of here!" He growled again in my face the stinging smell of vodka on his breath.
"I don't have anywhere to go..." I plead, "I'll sleep on the couch. Please don't make me leave." I hold a hand out and step back away from him and closer to the kitchen in our apartment.
"I'm not going to fucking support your shitty little dreams anymore Angela." He growls, "I'm not paying to get your fucking car back."
"Derek, please, I'm getting a job at the bar down the street, I'll be able to pay you back I swear..." My hands shake in front of me as I try to keep my distance. I back up into the counter, Derek walks forward and corners me against the counter.
"How the fuck would you pay me back on a Bartenders pay?" He chuckles evilly, "you know you'd have to get tipped a whole fucking lot for any of it to count. "
"Yes I know-"
"Who the fuck would want to tip you?" I cringe as his fist falls on the counter next to me, "you're a stupid whore. You have saggy fucking tits and an ugly face and you know it." His black eyes bore into mine, and his nose hovers inches from my face.
"Then I'll do anything for you. I'll clean your apartment and do whatever you ask me to to help pay you back." I lean backwards against the counter unsure of what I should anticipate. Derek stares at me for a moment in contemplation, the hardness of his expression not changing in the slightest.
"I want you to go take your pants off and lean over." His lips form a fine line.
"Derek..." I breathe out, my whole body feels cold. I know what this means and what it feels like. I know the looks I get at whatever job I'm working at at the time. Having to explain my bruises or broken arm, dislocated shoulder or bruised rib.
"What. Did. I. Say slut?" He snarls and leans his shoulders over me, I feel my knees shake, threatening to give way beneath me. I bow my head and reach down, my shaking fingers fumble with the button on the too-tight jeans I put on this morning. Derek steps back to watch me a smirk plays on his lips. I push the pants down onto the ground and slip them off of my ankles kicking them to the side.
"Good." Derek's smirk spreads to a grin as he walks over to me, roughly he grabs my vagina and pushes his fingers up so that they push against my bone. I let out a soft groan in pain, Derek's eyes dart up to stare me in the face, without a word he grabs me by the hips and shoves me down on a table we used to eat at for breakfast.
A sharp pain shoots up my spine along with the loud smack of his hand colliding with my ass. I hold back a yelp and close my eyes clenching my fists as he spanks me again and again and again with all of his power. My attempts at keeping my composure start to break. A slight wetness builds up in the corner of my eye.
"Well look at that Fat whore." Derek chuckles darkly behind me, "your floppy ass can't seem to handle the shitty treatment you deserve." I feel his hot breath by my ear, "You're bruising slut." All I can do is let out a quiet whimper while his fingers dig into the spot that internally bleeds. His hand pulls down on the small piece of fabric that remains of my lower body modesty. My blood runs cold when I feel the smooth head of his penis slipping its way between my labia. I let out a cry of pain as he shoves all of himself into me, completely unlubricated from my vagina or any outside source. I feel his hands wander my body, sliding up my shirt and grabbing my breasts so tightly I feel like they're going to bleed as well. I stare straight forward, his hips thrust into me. Pain ripping through my body every time he shoves himself into me to the point his penis pounds against my sensitive cervix. I can't stop the tears that now freely flow down my face. But I know vocalizing my pain into any form of sound would only make it worse.
"You love my cock don't you whore." Derek growls in my ear.
"Yes Derek..." I mutter through my tight throat and tears.
"You've convinced me." He growls in my ear and grabs my hips, "you're going to stay here and be my bitch." He grins and pulls me back, shoving me face first into a wall, my breasts pounded into my chest making the pain only worse. My feet are lifted off the ground as he rams himself into me only harder. A loud grunt escapes his lips suddenly when i feel a hot fluid spray itself inside of me. I try to forget the sensation.
"Sleep on the floor." Derek grins and drops me. I fall to the cold linoleum floor and look up at my boyfriend as he walks back into what's supposed to be our bedroom. A sob rips through my chest and my eyes close. All I can do is hope that sleep will take me and what happened tonight, will be in the permanent past.

Notes

I'd like to just say that, I wrote this chapter as a mini-protest of the glorification of rape in fan fiction. It's not okay and my heart goes out to anybody who has had to experience that.

Thank you so much for reading. From here on out it shouldn't be so violent.