It's tiring, When will the quiet be replaced with Sound?

by abusehurtsbut_itsmylifeline

Summary:

Strade is tired. Sick. Annoyed by how quiet you are, yet when the screams pour out of your mouth and the. whimpers turn into moans. His obsession grows. Just for it to die when it's all over

This story will never be worked on again. This is all it is.

Notes:

Recently played the new YKMET: Strade game on stream. So this fan fiction is based on the newest game and not the old one.

Chapter 1: Page 1

Why does it have to be this way? It's always the same. Wake up, Strades in front of you, has something wild to try out. Ends up just being torture and he lets you rest after cleaning you up. Half of the time he's just fucking you, doesn't matter, he's already using you for his own pleasure. What is there to separate?

Hands, My hands are raw. Tired, endless nights of being duct taped to the same pole. The sweat has built up by now around the duct tape. I can smell my skin, it smells raw, foul. Like the rest of my body. The cold air brushed against my skin as the air conditioner came to life right on schedule. The routine has been ingrained into my mind already. Wake up, Air conditioner turns on, Strade comes down. Then more.

The sound of heavy footsteps fill my air, despite the dread I can already feel my womb aching. I'm not ashamed that I'm broken, I'm ashamed that he takes advantage of that. My eyes were tired, glazed and half lidded as I stared off at Strades face. He had that same smile plastered onto his skin. The one that made me scream every day. This day would not be any different. I stayed quiet, let my legs shuffled beneath me, pulling themselves closer to my chest. My face grimaced and I had to bite down on my tongue, It happened a couple days ago, yet my knee still hurts. The hole in my knee isn't completely done healing. My eyes stared down at it until the familiar site of Strades boots slid right in front of me. I looked up, my eyes widened in fear. The tiredness shot right out of me as the adrenaline coursed through my veins. I was already shaking pathetically.

Strade let out a chuckle, then a sigh. "You know I'm sorry right?" His voice was calm, and soothing. One that he used to keep me at ease. "I just haven't gotten the time to go outside and find someone new, Jerking off to those videos I have on my computer just isn't enough anymore." His head nodded towards the door on my right, yet I didn't look. Instead I glanced down at the thick metal collar around my neck. And I knew Strade would respond with a smirk.

"You've got to be kidding me." His tone was blunt despite his demeanor. Strade lifted his right boot up and used it to push my chin up so I'd look at him, yet he planted his sole harshly against my neck and collarbone. I could feel my throat bobbing underneath the ridges at the bottom of his boot. "I feed you, Care for you, Pleasure you. And you still hold a grudge for what I do? I work so hard and you can't forgive me?" His head turned to the side and his lips bucked out in a pouting fashion.

My own lips parted, cheeks growing red at the thought of him raping me. Yet I never spoke. Even if my lips moved without the sound coming out. I could feel every breath I took against the flesh that coated my throat. It only made we sweat more.

Then slowly, Strade started to move his boot lower, trailing it down my torso and stomach till it reaches my clothed crotch. I was wearing the same boxers I had on when I first got into this house. My head immediately flipped down towards his boot, my jaw already clenching nervously. My legs shook, too sensitive for my own good as he began to run the bottoms of his boots roughly against my boxers.

His face was stern, and he wasn't paying attention to what his foot was doing. When I looked up all I saw was him looking back at me, and I couldn't help it anymore. My hands clashed against the stubborn duct tape, trying to pull me off of the pole so I could get away from this agonizing pleasure. My face clenched and I revealed my teeth and gums. My eyes were squinted shut. I could hear Strade let out a sigh of relief when my jaw finally unlatched onto itself, and I began to let out whimpers and sickening groans.

"That's more like it. That's my Girl." His voice was soft, yet his actions weren't. You didn't know if he meant for you to notice or not but he applied more pressure little by little onto your crotch until it felt like his whole bodyweight was leaned against your most sensitive area. Strades breathing got rapid, harsh, and hot. It's the familiar noise that plaqued his arousal. You couldn't help it anymore, your legs began to thrash and your hips tried to buck upwards to bounce his boot off of you. Yet nothing budged

Moans and soft whimpers turned to grunts and soon cries. It was too painful for it to be arousing anymore. Not that Strade cared. Yet your legs kept shivering and that familiar feeling boiled up in your stomach. Your lips opened themselves and you could feel your tongue moving without you telling it to do so. "Strade....It hurts...It hurts.." it was nothing but a pathetic plead that escaped your raw throat. Yet Strades boot just kept rubbing against your clothed clit. Relishing in the way your body writhed and squirmed below him.

It hit you like a truck, and your back arched against the pole as the devastatingly racking orgasm shocked your entire body. You could feel your slick cum slowly travel down your folds to pool where gravity pulled it towards. Your legs still shivered and your ears rang. Your chest fanned up and down in distress and exhaustion. Strade seemed to be matching the way you were grunting, his chest falling and rising at the same speed, yet his pants were a bit more raw and animalistic than your own.

His boot left your crotch, yet it was obvious he wasn't finished using them. Strade took a couple steps back. His face still flushed as his he bent down and began to untie his boots vigorously. Strade choked the laces around each other and made sure it was tight enough to withhold a beating. Your eyes fluttered as you watched him continue to move, and rocks were clumped in his hand and pulled out from his pockets. It didn't take a genius to know where this was going. Yet your mind could only focus on where the rocks came from. They weren't smooth, weren't white, but they were jagged and definitely heavy.

You glanced up at Strade as he finally stood up on his feet. The filled heavy boots dangled from his left hand as he held them by the combined shoelaces. His eyes were wide and yours were too. "You are...ALOT. Heavy to take in and struggle to take a blow. Just like these boots, just like those rocks..." His voice trailed off, before he swung the boots behind his shoulder and yanked them forward so they could slam against your damaged legs. Your head turned upwards and a scream leaped out from the depths of your bodies. You could feel the fresh bruises throbbing and beating like a second heartbeat. Your flesh fried in your body, sending signals for you to try and move your legs away from the pain. Yet your muscles couldn't move. You just shook and heaved.

"I can't....My legs..." You choked out a few more words. Tears flowed down your cheeks through the engraved passage of tears. "Too hard?" Strade didn't seem to be asking you. More like asking himself. His eyes stared down at where he hit your legs, but his body stance gave it away that he wasn't finished yet. "Are you being dramatic." His tone dropped, his eyes flicking up to you in question. He raised an eyebrow, yet you couldn't form words with the pain crowding your brain. "You always were a Liar..." Strade tossed the boots over his shoulder again, just to yank them forward and wack them against the side of your chest with a sickening crack. A noise that caused Strades breath to get caught in his throat. His face was red, and sweat was pouring down his skin.

Your body shook uncontrollably as the boots came in contact with the side of your body. You could've sworn he broke something again, yet this time the feeling grew quickly numb unlike your legs. Your eyes were stained red from the dry tears that your pain sucked up like dinner. Your wrists were bleeding by now, you worked them raw against the duct tape and the sticky covering didn't help to satisfy your pain. You were overwhelmed, and you couldn't help but let out a choked sob from the combined pain.

"Yikes." He replied foolishly. As if he didn't just cause the damage to your body. Strade still held the boots in his hands let came down onto his knees right at your feet. He left the strangled boots on the floor next to him, and instead turned his attention towards the blossoming red and purple bruises that grew on your legs. His hands didn't hesitate from brushing over them, relishing in the way you shook and tried to pull yourself away. Yet his fingers held your legs still in a harsh grip right on top of your new bruises.

Strade couldn't help but bite his lip. This definitely wasn't the worst thing he's done to your body, but it seemed to have the same affect. "Aren't you glad? I kept your promise." Your eyes shook as you looked over at him in confusion, your lips finally moving to answer. "W-..What?" Strade let out a chuckle before letting his head turn downwards to your bruises. "I promised I wouldn't break skin again, I know how much you hate that." His voice sounded cheerful like a child expecting a piece of candy for doing something good. His rough hands kept dragging his fingers up and down the growing bruises, relishing in how the pressure forced the color to disappear just for it to reappear after he removed his fingers from your skin.

"So beautiful..." His voice trailed on. His head too high in the clouds to realize you were looking down at him with a scrunched face. A face of Malice and anger.

Chapter 2: Page 2

Summary:

He won't stop. He needs more. Needs to hear more. My legs, I can't feel my legs!

Notes:

Thank you so much for your many kudos on my first page! I was super happy to wake up and see so many!! This page will be focusing on continuing on the last one. Since it wasn't a full story!

Strade finally looked up at me. His smile giddy and large as he stared at my angry face. He didn't seem to mind the expression, yet his fingers held down harder onto my bruised legs. I swear It felt like a thousand needles were digging into my skin when he did that, and I couldn't hold back a choked scream muffled by my own cries. He just kept staring at me. Yet the silent eye contact was broken by him shuffling back onto his feet. My head was woozy, battered by the pain it was forced to withstand. My eyes kept drifting over to the black boots, I could see some of the rocks peeking out from the top of the opening.

"You did very well!" He praised me. This session was...short. Very short. I doubt it was over, and I was right when he made his way behind me. I didn't bother trying to run away or fight back when I felt the bandages get ripped off my wrist. Instead I just grunted and left them limp behind me. Strade was quiet again, I was unsure what his attention was focused on until he gripped both of my wrists with one of his hands. I didn't get a second to try and talk back or even back a noise until he stood up abruptly. Dragging my body up with my wrists. He made sure my feet touched the ground, yet took a couple seconds to let go of my wrists.

I could feel my bones moving on my arms, my shoulders. It felt like they were about to fall out of their sockets at any point. Yet that feeling faded away when Strade let go of my wrists, sending me falling face first right next to the drain in front of me. I let out a loud groan, and my skin felt fuzzy where I fell. I could feel my body trying to push myself up, but the sound of Strades laugh made it clear I was making myself look pathetic instead of strong.

"I didn't think it was that hard..." He took a couple steps before he was standing at the side of me. Just to send a flying kick into my side, pushing me onto my back and letting my left thigh come in contact with the boots that were used to damage my torso and legs. "This ....You can't..." My hands leaned up, digging under the collar around my neck. The metal surface felt cold against my skin. "You can't be done yet. We barely even started, y'know?" He answered a bit stern, almost like he was disappointed in me. My hands fell from my collar at his words. Instead laying limply at my sides.

"Can you get up?" He questioned my physical state. Raising an eyebrow and tilting his head to the side as he stared down at me. Surveying my body. I felt that familiar unease, and my hands moved to try and cover up my exposed breasts. He let out a chuckle but didn't move nor speak. "It hurts..." My answer was pathetic, a joke to the question he asked. Yet I didn't offer any extra words to answer him.

He let out a gruff sigh kneeling down yet again just to grab a big tuft of my hair in his hands. I swear I could feel some strands snap out of my scalp, and I let out a whimper at the pain as I felt my scalp tightening. My lips were pulled up and left my mouth open as I pant. Strade pulled my head upwards so our noses could touch. I grimaced at the touch, my nose felt like it was burning from how oily his nose felt against mine. Even without a shower for awhile the difference was there. He didn't seem to notice how disgusted I was. Yet that didn't change anything.

He let my head fall abruptly, he seemed to have an idea pop into his head. Too busy to care, as if he did. I let out a grunt, and I swear I could hear how hollow my skull was as it hit the concrete below me. Strade walked away, going towards the cabinet against the wall. I rotated onto my stomach yet again. My hands dug their nails into the rough concrete floor and I began to pull myself against the floor. I was too busy to care what Strade was doing, and despite my faulty planning I never cared to realize that I wouldn't make it up the stairs. Yet my hands continued to move, and I continued to ignore the pain my legs felt as they scraped against the floor. It felt like the concrete was tearing away layers of flesh and skin endlessly. Yet I never stopped, right when I reached the first step of the stairs my collar went off. Causing my brain to freeze and the strong humming ran through my body. My eyes were wide and my eyesight began shaking until my collar was shut off yet again. I let out an exhausted sigh, my body becoming weaker against the floor below me.

My hands released themselves from the floor and I stopped trying. "You don't really think through things, huh?" Strade let out a laugh, and his hands planted themselves under my arms. Lifting me up until my back was planted against his chest, and my legs dangled limply. I let out a grunt. I looked down just to see the sight of a knife in Strades hand and my body began to struggle against him. Yet his grip just got tighter. I felt him sit down against a nearby wall, and I shivered as he lowered my lap onto his own. My head was kept low as my eyes followed the site of the knife.

My brain just flowed endlessly, focusing on the needle that was to come if I were to survive this. It scared me more than the blade of the knife that was being slowly dragged against my skin. "Please, Strade...I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." My voice was strained and it was hard to hear myself at all. I felt his stomach behind me shake with laughter, and I could feel his joy in my own throat. "Calm down, It won't be hard this time." The blade continued to dance across my skin, until he tilted the tip into my skin. The blade began to slice, not deep enough to compare to the first night I spent here, yet still enough for my body to shake like it was crying. Yet the salty tears didn't pour from my eyes, I was run dry. My muscle tensed and my fat jiggle with each shake I sent through my body.

The knife never got deeper even if I anticipated it doing so. The sickest part of me wished it would. Wished it would dig into my chest and send my guts pouring out, that way I could finally be free.

Notes:

It's official!!! This will be a continuous story.

Chapter 3: Page 3

My body shook as more shallow cuts were added to it. My head leaned back to nestle my temple into the dip of Strades shoulder behind me. I didn't bother looking down yet offered the comfort of my pants to Strades ear. Maybe if I pushed him a bit further he'd give me the release I wanted to. Strade replied with a low comforting hum like a mother comforting a crying child. The vibration sent my body still yet again, it was soothing, and a part of me wanted to beg him to continue. The thought never left my lips and lived in my head. I finally leaned my head forward, looking down at my stomach. My eyes didn't adjust to what I was seeing until Strade turned his head and kissed the side of my own head. His stubble prickled my skin as I stared down wide eyed at the fresh cuts.

"Oh..." A blush crept up my face and Strade laughed again, blood slowly seeped out of the gashes till it was safely clotted. "Do you like it?" Strades voice was soft in my ear, and he inhaled my scent from the nook of my neck. The cuts... Did it say 'Strade'..? My mind went blank and my eyes turned towards his hands clasped around my hips like my own belt. The knife blade up in the air, small slivers of blood slicked against the sharp edge. My face was pale and I swear I could feel my veins grow up a size as my heart began to pump vigorously. It made my chest ribble with every chest and I turned my head so Strade couldn't lean into the warmth of my neck.

I was quiet yet my lips trembled. "You...This...How could you?" My eyes furrowed and tilted downward. My lips stretched into a toothy scowl and I could feel the thin skin on my lips break from how chapped they were. I felt more angry than I've ever been, he already owns my life, and he claims to own my body without being saying anything. "I can't believe you.. I want...let me go!!" I made another attempt at trying to escape. Not caring how the wounds opened back up and blood began to gush out. Even from how shallow the cuts are. I struggled, slumping my back forward till I looked like a shrimp. I didn't care if I got impaled by the knife in Strades hand. It was made evident awhile ago I didn't care.

Strade let out a sigh. Letting me go to fall onto my knees. I was on all fours with him behind me, and I didn't even get a chance to move before I heard him shuffle behind me again. He let the knife clatter down on the floor, discarding it just to deal with me like he did with the boots. His hands wrapped around to grab my wrists letting the upper part of my body fall onto my body. The concrete felt warmer against my cheek as I was harshly pushed against it. He took out a spare zip tie and tied my wrists together. He couldn't have me trying to escape as he unbuckles his belt, right? Strade was being quiet again. I could hear him work his pants down his thighs till he could reveal his dick emerging from his boxers.

His uncut length flashed before my eyes, the vision of it scarred into my mind like a Renaissance painting. Strade roughly pulled down my underwear, not bothering to give me anytime before he aligned himself and completely shoved his cock into my cunt. I let out a pained groan, and he didn't take long from starting to roughly pound against my ass. My already battered pelvis cried from exhaustion, yet I couldn't help it from hurting worse. Each thrust into me was met with a hiss on my end. I could feel it stretch me out painfully as he slammed himself up to the groin just to drag himself out roughly.

It felt like sandpaper was dragging against my velvet walls from inside, and everytime his tip kissed my cervix I couldn't help but arch my back. The pain slowly disintegrated and was replaced by pleasure. I knew Strade was smiling, I could hear it in his voice as he spoke. "There you go, That's my good girl, That's who I love." My heart skipped a bit as he mentioned the word love. My cunt clenched down harder around him at the word. Fuck, was he really affecting me this much? Strade let out a grunt and became to pant aggressively. I didn't hold back from Starting to move my hips along with his.

He seemed to take great pride from this and he began to thrust more urgently into me. I could feel his hands shake on either side of my waist as he held tightly onto me. My skin stretching and he pulled my wounds open yet again at his grip. "F-Fuck...Strade...Holy S-Shit..." Strades left hand left from my waist and plastered itself around my mouth forcing me to slam painfully against his groin. "Shh-...Shut up!" I could feel him pulsing inside me, his cum splurting against my insides as the warm feeling filled my tummy. My body shook with his at every load he emptied into me. My cunt clamped down and kept him in me until he was soft.

Strade left me with a lewd pop, letting my head slam back down to the concrete with a thump. I didn't offer any noise and instead continued to pant from exhaustion. Strade shimmed my underwear up my thighs and didn't bother cleaning up his mess. I let myself fall down onto my side. Curling up into the fetal position as he buttoned back up his pants and buckled his belt up.

He let out a huff, probably out of discontent for not being able to continue this session. Strades head turned up towards the ceiling above us. His hands sunk into his pockets, he seemed to be taking his sweet time deciding what to do. He let his head fall down to stare at me again, and my own head snapped to the side to look up at him. His face was empty with raised eyebrows, it seemed like he was waiting for me to say more or rather beg for more. Yet I never answered him.

"Come on, It's time to fix you up." Strade leaned down, shifting his hands under the middle of my torso and my knees. His crude words sent a shiver down my spine, and instead of leaving me wet they left me dry. I let out a cry of discomfort but he never shifted the way he was carrying me. My body felt like it was floating when it was raised into the air, and I couldn't help but lean into his chest absentmindedly. I could hear his heart beating through his ribcage, as well as some other miscellaneous noises.

The princess carry he forced me to indure wasn't doing well on my injuries or bruises. Yet he pushed upwards up the stairs. Not stopping until he reached the bathroom in his house. Strade plopped me down onto the cold tile floor, not bothering to give me anything to sit on. He turned and pulled out a bigger med kit out from under the sink. A much better quality one than the one he had stationed in the basement. I flinched at the sight of the needle, my eyes flicking down to the unhealed stitches on my legs before up at him. He smirked, "Still scared of the needle?" He asked, not expecting an answer this time. "Don't worry, we won't be using it anyway."

Strade sat down onto his knees and He pulled out two silicone sleeves that were blue, fumbling with them to adjust the size. Strade noted my confusion, my face told it all. "These are called 'Cold Compressions'. They help the bruise from not hurting." My legs calmed down from their original stiff position, his words need plenty to calm me down here. Strades hands carefully slid the blue sleeves up my legs, making sure they were tight when it covered the large bruised areas my two legs shared. His hands planted themselves on his knees and looked up at me with a loving smile. "Feel any better?" I gave a nod, and noted that twitch in one of his eyes. He was getting tired of how quiet I was growing again. His smile faded a bit and his eyes glanced away from me.

Chapter 4: Page 4

I stared deeply into his vacant eyes noting how he didn't look up at me. It felt like my heart was being crunched from within me. My hands slowly went down, and I focused my attention on the gel like sleeves on my legs. The pain was subdued by the cold from the sleeves. My hands trailed up and down the blue wrap arounds. "Thank you...This...It's nice." My voice cracked as if it was my first time speaking, even though just a couple minutes ago I was screaming my lungs off in the basement. Strade looked back at me, his smile absent from his face. My lips trembled, and It was obvious I would be forced to continue this conversation.

My hands went back up to my stomach, spreading out the cuts that formed Strades name on my skin. The wounds seemed to hiss at the feeling of the cold air hitting them. I let out a whimper and I watched with my own eyes how my pain affected Strade. "I want ..I need you to stich me back up, Please.." My voice came out more like I was trying to seduce him. I didn't complain. A soft smile spread across my face and I felt like I was in sugartown as I stared at Strades blushed face.

I scooted closer to him, till I was able to lean my head against the walls of the bathtub behind me. I let my stomach balance out as I laid down on my back. My legs were crossed around his body. Was I becoming a slut for him? For was it just the guilt talking. My hands played with my hair above my head, twirling strands while waiting for him to began stitching me back up.

It didn't take long for him to get the needle out with the string wrapped around the loop, and when he lowered it down to my wounds I couldn't help but brace myself and start shaking. I could feel it dip in and out repeatedly, and I tried my best to keep still. My legs pulled him closer into me, forcing him to lean over my crotch and stomach to see what he was doing properly.

"You know...This is kind of Kinky.." My voice trailed off and I let a grunt slip through my lips in the middle of my sentence. Strade let out a chuckle, pulling away when he was finally done. My body felt good as new again, mostly. The stitches were perfect like before. They actually looked better this time. As Strade pulled away I let myself sit back up with my back against the bathtub. My legs left his torso and I watched him put the med kit back under the sink.

Strade turned his back to me and opened the bathroom door with a creak, waiting for me to crawl outside so he could shut it behind me. I didn't waste time limping my way out of the bathroom, sitting down next to the door while I waited for him to come out as well. He glanced at me, that smirk on his face. I felt like I was given a candy for doing something good. Made me feel warm and fuzzy inside. I had to bite down on my lip to keep myself from saying some more corny shit than I already let go.

Strade made his way to somewhere else in the house. Not uttering a word to me, yet my attention was brought towards the fluffy orange tail that was obviously Rens. Peaking out from the doorway to a room down the hallway. I shuffled my knees against the floor and dug my fingers into the carpet below me to pull myself along. I couldn't handle standing up on my two feet yet.

Chapter 5: Page 5

Rens tail bristled and fluffed when he saw me out of the corner of his eye. I could see his body visibly tense before relaxing. I assume he thought I was Strade or some kind of monster. It didn't matter, He looked at me with a straight face. Yet there was a arch in his eyebrows. One that proved to me he was worried for how I was. I crawled my way into the room. The crawling was starting to get to me. I probably looked like a fucking toddler. I fixed my legs in front of me, sitting down on the floor and letting my hurt legs relax without pressure.

"Hey, Y/N, Rough morning?" He asked, his face straight. I let myself smile at his words. There was something funny on his obvious assumption. "What made you think that?" I watched as Ren smiled myself, he spun on his office chair to look at me completely. My eyes relaxed at the sight of him. Ren looked away, before continuing to talk. "I know this sounds really shitty, but thanks for uh. Taking the blow..?" His thanks was a bit out of no where. I mean, he was literally thanking me for replacing him. It knocked some wind out of me from surprise. Yet I didn't let it show.

"Yeah... You're welcome." My voice calm out a bit weary and Ren looked back at me. My lips straightened in a line and my cheeks bulged out with a slight curve. My hands kept brushing over my stomach before trailing up lightly. I took my hand away from my torso in an attempt to not seem weird. Yet Rens ears flattened down to his head. Having no bra left my breasts feeling empty, or rather bare. Yet there was no need to attempt to hide myself, Rens seen enough. I looked back up at him. This conversation was nothing more than more quiet space. Even with someone I trust I don't understand why I'm always so quiet.

My legs shifted again, pushing myself onto my hands and knees so I could crawl onto the mattress on the floor. It was a spring mattress and offered little comfort to my aching body. Yet it was better than sitting on the hard floor. Ren turned in his office chair again, turning towards the computer in front of him. The silence was filled with clicks and the clacking of the keyboard, and I let myself myself bask in the comfort in the filler noise.

I kept glancing at the AC in the corner of the room, and I slowly got bored of sitting here. The noise wasn't doing much for me, and I eventually crawled away from the room and Ren. Ren didn't seem to mind that much. He probably didn't notice I left. I reached the top of the stairs before continuing to crawl downwards. My heart was thumping in my chest as I slowly made my way down. It felt like gravity was trying to pull me down to my death. Which I wouldn't doubt it was. Life already put me in a house like this. There's no telling what else it would put me through just for my own torment.

My palms were sweaty as they hit the wooden stairs beneath me with a wet slap. I moved slow. Treating myself delicately like a fragile package. I didn't have a goal in my travels. Yet when Made it to the bottom of the stairs, I let out a deep breath. Like I stopped breathing my entire life until this very moment. It felt like I climbed mount everest, or atleast the landlord version of it. I continued to crawl my way around the house. And the idea of looking like a pathetic toddler kept crossing my mind. It was getting exhausting.

Chapter 6: Page 6

My palms hurt, I could already tell if I looked at them I could see the imprints of the grain that made up the carpet. I didn't bother looking, I was more focused on food. I didn't look back up above at the top of the stairs, didn't mutter a word. I just went straight for the kitchen. When I got there, the cold floor was comforting. it was made of the same tiles from the bathroom yet less grimey. It felt like I shrunk down half a size, crawling around on all fours does get rid of your height a bit. Who knew?

I went to the fridge first, looking through the scarce scraps that were left. Most of it was cooking supplies, less things to snack on. Sadly enough I settled on chewing on a carrot as a snack. I'm in my health phase. I let out a small giggle and could feel my lips smile around the carrot. It was hard. Of course, let there was a sort of sandy texture that carried on with it. My throat felt like it tightened when I tried to swallow the first bite. Had to forcefully shove it down with my finger. It felt gross.

I just sat on the floor eating the carrot like a man in the trenches. Heck, I'm not even sure if my situation was different. Food was scarce, danger and death was one step away, and I was basically walking on egg shells just breathing in the same air as anyone in this house. It's not like anyone would notice I was there. Ren barely noticed I left, and I crawled by the couch Strade sat on easily. Being quiet had its benefits. Yet the guilt that followed me from Strades own silent self weighed on me. A part of me couldn't bare not hearing his deep voice. It grew on me, maybe.

My brain scrambled as I finished the carrot, my tongue felt dry. Yet I didn't do much to fix that. I crawled over to the trashcan and threw away the top of the carrot. I wasn't going to eat that. Are you out of your mind? I began to crawl towards the living room this time, I couldn't stay long in one place and would prefer to have Atleast some kind of company. I recognized how fast my feelings and ideals change easily awhile ago. There's not much to explain.

Chapter 7: Page 7

Summary:

I've been a bit burnt out, especially with school starting back up for me! But I'll do my best to keep updating this story! I'm really happy a ton of you enjoy my writing it makes me feel really happy!!

My hands slid against the leather that coated the couch, and I dug my nails into the material to pull myself up. I kept my distance from Strade, and shifted in my seat till I turned towards the television. I saw him out of the corner of my eye looking at me, yet I never mentioned the glance he took. He pulled that corny yawn and stretch just to put his arm over my shoulder. I could feel my limps tremble into a nervous frown. Is Strade being serious right now? I glanced over to him quietly and just looked back at the tv. Shaking my head while doing so like a disappointed parent. Strade just replied with a deep chuckle, before his hand tightened on my right shoulder. Pushing me into him.

I felt myself squish against Strades side, and I couldn't smell anything except the cigarette and alcohol smell he always had on him. I had to resist from burrowing my nose into the side of him. Not like he'd complain. I let my hand sneak up and place itself gently on Strades stomach. His fat was thick and hard almost like muscle. Yet I didn't mention anything. I continued to watch whatever crappy cable tv was on right now. This was like a scene out of a soap opera, Strades warm thick embrace was enough to make me feel like I was melting, and I didn't trust this time from nuzzling my face into his side.

"You alright?" Strade looked down at me with longing, not exactly sure what he was longing for. I nodded my head against his frame. Closing my eyes as I just float away, Strade shifted lightly. Turning to the side in his seat so I'd be shifted to press against his chest for him to hug me. Yet the hug was more groping than comfort. His fingers dug into my ass checks. This guy a straight up MENACE. I pressed my hands against his chest and pushed myself up so I could glare at him.

Strade smiled down at me, and responded to my silent anger by leaning closer and biting down onto my bottom lip. Just to pull back while the blood leaked from the bite wound. I let out a soft sigh of air, more from the pain then exhaustion. My face got red and I pushed closer to Strade, mashing my bleeding lips against his. My tongue lapped at his own, and I let his swirl against mine. I felt myself press tighter into Strades body. Full on straddling his lap now. I could feel his bulge grow right below my clothed cunt, and I didn't hold back from grinding lightly against him. Strade let out heavy exhausted pants of air. His hand trailed up my back before fisting into my hair.

I let out a hiss from in-between my teeth and my hips came to a halting stop. Yet Strades own hips thrusted upwards to seek more friction. My nails dug into the skin on his chest. My breathing was rough, and for a moment our pants synced. I could feel the heat on my face and knew I was red with arousal and anticipation. The living room was quiet, besides the sound of clothing against clothing and the muffled television. Yet the point is, No one had to talk. Not now.

My neck was craned backwards and Strade leaned in at the new found opportunity. My skin tingled under the touch of his rough lips kissing me skin. His teeth biting down on my skin. I couldn't help but let out a deep groan as I ground myself down against Strades bulge. Giving both of us more friction. My anxiety seemed to melt away as the seam of my underwear shifted against my clit, a long with Strades relentless bucking. I could feel my head gets lighter, yet I wasn't offered any comfort. Strade glided his tongue up the column of my throat. Dragging his taste buds along my salty skin.

"S-Strade..." I finally called out, my voice breaking with anticipation. Strade pulled back and looked into my eyes, a soft smile on his face. He used that voice, that calming deep mocking voice. "What's wrong, Baby?" He let the name linger in my mind before continuing. "You that needy after your punishment?" He lurched over me and his free hand continued to grope my ass. Strade seems to have an unhealthy obsession with it. I don't mind.

I could feel my wounds rub together, the raw flesh clawing at the other side to cling onto it. My stitches offered comfort. My bruised body offered Strade pleasure. That's what this is all about. "Just...Pull it out, Please..." My pathetic plead did little to convince Strade. Instead he just pulled back harsher on my hair, making my scalp tighten deliciously. "Is that it?" Strade pouted his lips in mock frustration. "I know you hate begging, but give me something more, Eh?" He spoke through his grin. Yet the anger popped in my body at the sight of it.

My right hand unlatched itself from Strades chest and instead leaned down and clutched his bulge painfully through his boxers. He let out a growl and I could feel him arch into my touch. Yet, He didn't seem to like that much. The next thing I see is his fist reeling back before he sent it flying into the side of my head. Causing my upper body to fall onto the armrest beside him. My head felt fuzzy and heavy. I could feel the area he hit throb. I could feel his chest fluttering up and down with ragged breaths. I felt the cold woosh of air hit my exposed skin before Strades straight hand hit my ass. I yelped, and my hands immediately dig into the leather of the couch. My arms and legs squirmed from the pain, and I tensed as the next smack hit my butt again.

Chapter 8: Page 8

My stomach growled against Strades thighs, yet my ass was pushed high in the air by one of his hands. He forced me to withstand constant spankings, each one making me jolt upwards and squirm beneath him. I already knew my skin was beet red where he hit, even through my underwear. My hands dug into the armrest below me and I bit down on it as well. My eyes were scrunched as he continued to hit my ass with blow after blow. Fuck, It hurts so much. My skin tingled warmly, felt like a thousand needles were ticking me over and over again.

I was pushed down onto the floor as Strade abruptly got up, and he kicked me straight in my stomach. I couldn't hold it in, and my bladder spilled out from under me. Urine soaked my underwear and the carpet below me. The new mess just seemed to irritate Strade even more understandably. He leaned down and gripped my chin forcing my neck to crane upwards so I can look up at him. He spoke through jagged strict teeth. "You're a fucking mutt." The tip of Strades nose barely glided against the tip of my own. Yet the intimate closeness was dragged away by Strades own doing. Instead replaced by the constant feeling of Strade kicking me around like a soccer ball. Each hit into my abdomen caused the recently stitched wound of mine to bulge and blood to leak out from the already crusty edges.

I groaned and squinted my eyes. My organs felt like they were going to burst with each kick. I was picked up by my hair. My hands coming up to claw at Strades grip on my hair. It felt so agonizing, the tears streamed down my face in sloppy uneven strides. I was thrown to the side, onto my stomach while Strade straddled my thighs. I could hear his belt jingle and the shuffle of his pants as he worked them down. It didn't take long for me to finally feel His cock rub aggressively against the curve of my ass.

The scent of urine was sour in the air and my nose burned with each inhale of air. It made me feel sick to my stomach. However, that could be the bruising from how Strade kicked me. I felt his hands grip onto my waist as he pinned me down to the floor. I could hear him grunting from behind, yet the only thing I could focus on was how my wounds throbbed from being reopened. The pain of my legs, my ass, and my organs. It all hurt so much that the friction of Strade against me was lost at sea.

His deep voice grounded me the same as his fingers did as they began to rub against my clothes cunt. "You're lucky I'm fucking hard right now, You smell... Disgusting." I could hear the sneer he was making in his voice, but I couldn't bring myself to care. If he truly found me disgusting he wouldn't be touching me, Right? My heart throbbed with a twisted sense of love for Strade. He continued to rut against me while his fingers toyed with me slit. Dragging his fingers up and down and forcing my hips to jerk Everytime he slid against my clit. Yet the 'foreplay' was short lived. I felt him hook my underwear to the side and I braced myself for what was coming.

I let out a grunt, my throat became dry as Strade slammed himself balls deep into me. My cervix already bulged around the tip of his cock. My bruised pelvis didn't enjoy the sensation though, and it felt like It was going to crumble away. Strades hands slid downwards from my hips and instead gripped his fingers down onto my ass. This again... I let out a choked whimper, I could feel his fingers digging new bruises on top of the already purple ones that scattered across my ass. He seemed to relish in the way my fat bulged around his piercing grip, and he began to move his hips.

It felt like he was moving as he could into me. Everytime he hit my cervix I couldn't help but open my mouth in a silent scream. Not in a wanton way, but in a silent pained way. My fingers dug into the carpet below me just right where my breasts met the floor. My body stretched with each thrust Strade forced me through. His hands roamed greedily and I could feel his belly press against me as he leaned down over me. He nestled his head in the crook of my neck and I felt his hands glide from my ass to my stomach. His large hands gripped just around the area he cut me in. I felt my heart pitter patter while my head flipped down pathetically to push myself into the floor. Maybe if I push hard enough I'll sink into the carpet.

His fingers slowly pushed into my wound. Parting my sticky stitched cut around the stitches. I felt my skin try and retract and push him out, yet more blood just pushed out of the cut around Strades fingers. My body felt like it was being gutted out like a fish. I offered a whimper at the sensation and my face turned bright beet red if it wasn't already. Strade let out a laugh, and I responded in a groan. My body was overwhelmed with sensations it didn't know which sounds to make. I had trouble deciding whether I should scream bloody murder whenever his dick shoved against my G-Spot or I should moan when he digs his fingers dipper into my cut. I didn't know if I should cry from the pain and pleasure or cry from the sour scent in the air from my urine.

Chapter 9: Page 9

I struggled to stay comfortable, if that was even possible, As Strade continued to thrust into my pussy. I could feel myself flutter around him and he would throb and pulse in response. It made me feel warm inside, a feeling similar to getting a surprise but knowing what it was. My teeth clenched down on themselves as I put my chin against the floor below me. My throat bobbed uncomfortably against the carpet and my chest began to hurt. From the pressure and from how Strade kept digging deeper into my bleeding cut. I let out a grunt and huffed, I struggled to breathe as I cried. My body was overwhelmed by senses and feelings that I didn't know which ones to focus on. Strades panting got louder, and his fingers withdrew themselves from my cut. He leaned over my pinned down body and put one arm around my throat in a choke hold and shoved his bloody fingers into my mouth with the other.

Despite the coppery sickeningly sweet taste, My tongue eagerly lapped at his fingers. I could feel his hips flutter against mine, I knew he was getting closer and closer to the edge. My head was pushed upwards as his arm closed around my neck. My tongue was forced out of my mouth as I attempted to drag air into my lungs, yet nothing ever came out. Strade forcibly thrusted his fingers back into my mouth, seeking to feel the wet heat of my tongue against his finger pads again. His thrusting got wilder, more sloppy, and within seconds he completely closed my airway. Causing my eyes to roll up slowly into my head while he came deep within me. I could feel his tip stretching out the entrance to my womb. The warmth of his cum inside me sent a warm wash of comfort. Yet my own arrival was followed shortly after his.

I thrashed and squirmed under him. More from the lack of air than from my orgasm. Yet the more I did, the more I fluttered and gripped tighter onto his already flaccid length. Strade let out a grunt and I could hear him try and control his breathing right next to my ear. The mock of being able to hear and feel someone breathing while I couldn't myself got to my head. My hands reached up and dug deep into the hairy forearm of Strades. Deep and eager enough to draw thin lines of blood to the surface of his skin.

The second he pulled his arm away from my neck, I immediately gasped for air. My lungs deflated flat in my chest as I struggled to regain the lost oxygen I had stolen from me. I laid limp on the carpet. My legs and crotch already starting to itch from practically marinating in my own filth and the new arrival of Strades cum. I shivered as Strades warm embrace left me and I was hot by the cold hair from the fan above us. Despite the AC, We were a sweating mess.

Chapter 10: Page 10

My skin felt cold, the warmth fading from me. I could still hear the deep pants from Strades mouth. Yet he was no where to be seen. My arms shivered as I pushed myself up, I had to basically yank myself onto my ass to keep myself from falling back down. Despite the fact I never forgot about my gross mess below me, It still rattled me to the core. It felt like my bladder and crotch were bruised. My hand came down to rub at the area, yet I retracted my hand at the sticky gross wet feeling. My legs throbbed. My head felt white. My thoughts were empty yet my body knew what to do. I pulled myself up with help from the coffee table besides me. The room was quiet now, and my body even craved more touch from Strade. From basically anyone. I held my stomach as I stood up.

The cut on my stomach was angry around the edges. The red skin hissed as the touch of my fingers against it. My hand shivered. I had to ignore the way my legs were sticky, I didn't know if it was from the piss or Strades cum. That doesn't matter. I limped my way over to a nearby closet. Pulling out a metal bucket that had a rag and some sort of cleaning spray in it. It wasn't labeled, but I jumped at the opportunity to clean the carpet up. My legs were slowly and practically limp as I tredged my way to where everything happen.

I let my knees fall onto the floor below me, letting a huff of frustrated exhaustion escape me. So much happened in one day. My body already feels like it was decaying. I wouldn't doubt it if it actually was. My hands scrambled as they reached into the bucket, the plastic spray bottle clinked against the metal. Causing me to flinch from the sudden noise. I pulled the spray out, holding it with my left hand while my right held onto the rag. I clenched down onto the trigger to the bottle, spraying a good amount of cleaning agent onto the carpet. The scent was strong, It was reminiscent of iced tea.

After I covered the stained puddle on the carpet with a thin sheet of foamy white soap. I leaned over the puddle. My hands holding my upper body up as I began to roughly scrub against the carpet. I sniffled. Not from the smell. My eyes got foggy. Not from the chemicals. I began to tear up, my body jerking left and right at how aggressive my sobbing racked through me. As much as I tried to hold it together, my body seemed to get weaker as I cried. Yet I didn't let myself give up on cleaning my own piss out of the carpet. My hair draped against the sides of my face, and it slowly got harder to see.

My eyesight got watery and smudged. Like I was looking through a dirty glass lense. I continued to sniffle and jump in my own skin at practically nothing. My hand got more sloppy with my scrubbing, and I slowly began to stop. I limply tossed the rag into the bucket and the spray bottle followed shortly after. The liquid inside sloshing around effortlessly.

I shifted to the side and crawled a couple feet away from the 'cleaned' mess, and I just let myself sprawl out onto the floor. I felt suddenly at piece. And my arms spread out as if I was hugging the carpet below me. The embrace felt comforting. Much more comforting than anyone in this house could truly give me. Even if my body tried to trick me. My head throbbed, and I felt my muscles tense as my jaw did. My head shook with each painful pulse that racked through my brain. The pain sinked out of my view, and my feelings faded.

I let my eyes close and It felt like I was drifting in warm water as I slowly went to sleep. It was peaceful, Calm. It was everything I wanted that wasn't given to me in this place. I just hoped that the next day would be better. If that would even be possible. It's just nice to dream some times.

It's nice to dream.

Chapter 11: Page 11

My eyes were gummy as I slowly stirred from my sleep. Eyelashes clung together with wetness and dried tears. My hand reached up and lazily rubbed rough circles into my closed eyes. It took me a couple seconds of doing so before I could truly see. I barely recognized my surroundings as I got up. Yet my hand instinctively went to grasp at my stomach. The wound felt better. It didn't burn like holy water sprayed on me anymore. My head felt heavy as I glanced over at where I placed the bucket last night. I wasn't surprised when I saw that it was gone. I wasn't surprised when I saw that someone did the job better than me. The stain was gone. I turned my head to the side, seemingly at nothing.

I positioned myself in front of the couch and used the edge of the cushion to push myself up. My legs wobbled. Despite the sleep I needed so much being granted to me. It did little to help. I swear I felt more tired when I woke up. I could feel how heavy the corners of my lips were, and there was no doubt I was practically pouting.

The second I took one step in front of me, My leg woke up. Pain lightning through my body as I was stuck mid step. I let myself lean slightly into the couch and my head flopped down towards the floor. My hand shook as I kept myself up. In order to walk I was going to have to limp slowly. Not letting my legs get more than 3 seconds supporting my body weight. It worked effectively, and I rather risk worsening my legs than crawling around again.

The thought formed a suffocation bubble of humiliation in my mind, and my frown deepened. I slowly worked my way up the stairs to the second floor. My hands grasped at the way near me for support. As if the smooth surface would grow hands and guide me up. I needed to use the bathroom. My stomach cramped, and A sense of dread washed over me. This might me my period. My jaw clenched at the idea. Yet my legs kept moving, If that was the case I needed to take a shower. Maybe use some toilet paper as Pads. My brain practically scrunched in on itself at the mere idea of what Strade would do if he found out I was bleeding. From another hole.

My hands gripped tightly onto the door knob, and I had to yank open the door with my body strength. It sent me stumbling into the bathroom, and I shoved the door closed behind me by dragging it as I entered. My hands immediately gripped onto the counter of my sink, and I leaned my full weight onto it as I slowly made my way to the toilet. The porcelain seat creaked beneath me as I threw myself down onto it. My head was hazy as I slowly took my underwear off. Just to see a mess of red on them. I threw them to the side into the bathtub. They were dirty already from piss and period blood. Why is my body so fucking disgusting?

My face grimaced as I ripped some toilet paper away from the fresh roll right next to me. I had to scrunch my face and turn to the side to wipe myself clean. The toilet paper wasn't any better than sand paper, and it left my skin feeling raw. I let a sigh of relief pass my lips as I finally cleaned the bloody mess that was left on my thighs and crotch. I turned to the side. My thighs shifted as I slid onto the edge of the bathtub. I reached forward and turned the faucet to the hot water side. Washing as the water sloshed out from the spigot. I shifted again so that my feet would be inside of the bathtub.

I leaned over and picked up my dirty underwear and began to crudely clean them in the hot water with just my bare hands. The feeling of it was slick and gooey, like I was playing with slime. The water rushing over it burned my skin yet I managed through it. I didn't want to walk around with no underwear, let alone dirty underwear. My skin shivered as I suddenly got a knot in my stomach. I instinctively turned my head over my shoulders. My hands froze as I saw the familiar glowing eyes staring at me through a crack of the bathroom door. The sight of Ren still rocked me to my core. Yet my fingers continued to scrunch and massage the underwear in my hands. Letting the blood run out with the water.

I slowly turned back to face what I was working on, and I felt myself relax at the site of my now clean underwear. Well, Clean enough to wear. My hands turned off the faucet before I shifted so I could stand up. I knew Ren was still watching but I didn't care enough to do anything about it. My hands slowly slid my underwear up my thighs, and I almost felt like I was putting on a show for the beastkin. A smile spread across my once slack face. I chuckled to myself as I shifted my underwear to be comfortable to wear.

I looked back up at the door. Ren's clawed hand was gripping onto it tightly. I could see his claws leaving ridges in the white door. I didn't say anything but stared at him with tired eyes. He seemed to take that as an Invitation and slinked into the bathroom. He closed the door behind him, His fingers fumbling as he made sure the door was locked. I didn't blink twice at the movement or sound. He meant no harm to me. Surely.

Chapter 12: Page 12

Summary:

Pretty uneventful pages so far, but I'm preparing myself for a series of one shots. I'm giving the steering wheel to you guys to give suggestions for what plots I should do per page. I also won't chicken out and leave you guys with only like 250 words per page. That's bullshit lol!!! Just leave suggestions in the comments and I'll reply to the ones I'll do!!

Rens tail swished back and forth behind him. The bristles standing on edge. I didn't say anything and took a step back so I could lower my ass back down onto the edges of the bathtub. Ren seemed to take a step forward to keep the perfect distance between us. I stared at him, the tension was palpable. He was nervous about something. Nervous to talk to me, Maybe. My eyes were tired. Half lidded. It didn't help my case to seem approachable. As if I wanted that in the first place.

"You, uh, You okay?" The question hit me like a dump truck. That's what Ren wanted to ask? My head felt like static as my brain cells cracked together. "No." My answer was blunt, and It felt Ren's shoulders slack at his sides. A strong feeling of warmth spread through my body, which started at my heart. That familiar feeling of love and affection was brought onto me by my hormones, but I didn't seem to mind.

I sighed, less from exhaustion and more from realization. “I'm sorry, I'm alright.” I put on a lazy smile on my face, glancing over at Ren's face just to see his frown deepen. I think too lowly of him, It seems. “I'm not stupid, Y'know?” His voice was blunt and it rattled the tiles on the floor. “I'm sorry.” I spoke out a single apology and leaned over my knees, my head turned towards the floor. I seem to have a fascination with submitting myself, huh?

Ren shuffled, turning himself to the side so he could look into a mirror. The sight left me thinking I was back in high school. The way he checked and caressed his face and even cleaned up his hair a bit. It sent a shiver of familiarity down my spine. “Strades going to have a ball when he realizes you're on the rag.” I could see a small smirk form on Ren's face and I felt my heart drop to the tip of my toes. My eyes widened and my head moved up to look at him so fast my neck popped.

“You wouldn't tell him, right?” Ren glanced over at me. The look he sent me left a bad taste in my mouth. He didn't speak but his movements spoke actions. His tail was relaxed and slick now, and it slowly wagged behind him. The bathroom was filled with clicks and sounds of brushing teeth. Ren was taking care of himself. It made me feel horrible for letting my body go while I was here. Anxiety crept into my stomach at the thought of Strade not wanting me because I'm too dirty. The thought echoed through my body, and my hands began to clumsily fumble with each other.

Ren didn't take notice, and if he did he didn't say anything about it. I picked at my fingernails subconsciously, and just flinged the crude clippings down onto the floor. My stomach pounded as if it was a second heartbeat. My cramps have started to get worse, and I couldn't stop myself from lurching over myself and holding tightly onto my stomach. The sound of brushing teeth stopped and I could see Ren's bare feet slide to turn to me. I lifted my head up limply to look up at him. No doubt my face was red, and my mouth was open in soft pants.

I could take pain that came from the outside of my body, but the inside was just too much to handle. It felt like tiny screws were being screwed and undone just to be screwed back into my uterus. The feeling made my knee hurt, and I felt my hand trail down from my stomach to grasp onto my knee. I could feel the deep divot where Strade drilled into me. Ren didn't say anything. Yet his eyebrows furrowed in a wild manner. He seemed to be thinking, his eyes flinching slightly as he surveyed my face and body.

He scoffed. The sound and his voice partially muffed from the toothbrush still being lodged in his mouth. “There's Some Medicine in the Mirror cabinet.” Ren turned to face the mirror, it seemed like he was talking to himself rather than talking to me. The sound of pills clacking together filled my senses, and the second Ren's hand reached out to hand me the bottle I greedily snatched it from his hand.

My own hands raced to open it, twisting and popping open the bottle. I shook it so two pills would come out onto my palm. Then I pooled up some spit in my mouth, and plopped the pills into the puddle before swallowing. I partially expected the medicine to work right when I swallowed. My inner child is nagging me about why it's not working. I'm so fucking stupid. My arms wrapped around my own stomach and my hands found my waist.

Ren seemed to finish brushing his teeth, and he spat out whatever toothpaste was left in his mouth. Hearing the action alone left an agonizing minty taste on my tongue, It made me shiver, or that was just the medicine.

Chapter 13: Page 13

Summary:

Guess who's back with another filler episode, This is actually one of my most liked fanfictions which is crazy because I thought this was horrible lolll, enjoy anyways!!

How long has it been?

The bubbly suds crinkled and popped around my head as I worked it into my scalp. My skin felt softer than before, however I was reminded by the main scars that littered across my body where I was. It's been…awhile. For sure. I don't remember when I got here or when the last time I went outside was.

Strade was watching me from the doorway of the bathroom. Constant complaining about having baths and showers with the collar on led him to take it off, with the exception that he has to watch me.

No big deal,

The only sounds I could hear were the sloshing of the water against the bathtub walls and my silent ragged breathing. The heavy scent of hot soap dizzied my head and fogged my senses. It was something I hated when taking baths, however I put up with it Everytime. I sniffled. Strade seemed to shift at the doorway.

Everything was still. This moment was oddly quiet, oddly satisfying. Peaceful. Unlike everything else in this house.

I dipped my head into the water below me and gave my scalp a good scrubbing, only coming up when I assumed the soap was completely washed from my hair. I am clean now. My body is slick and soft from the massaging of soap into my skin. I reached down and unhooked the plug of the tub, and the water gulped down the drain while I stepped out of the tub.

The water dripped from my body and hit the floor with splashy plips. Strade didn't reach for the towel and hand it to me, and only came forward to latch the collar back around my neck. I didn't resist, and Strade seemed to take some sort of pride in it. Even despite his quiet demeanor.

He seems sick of me. He always does. Spends more time with Ren instead of me, He practically avoids me unless I beg him not to. Is that what he finds interesting in me? I shuffled with the spare clothes Strade provided me with. Settling on some old band-tee that had German spelling spewed across it, and a pair of black generic boxers. He obviously didn't want to spend money getting something girly for me. I didn't care. It didn't matter.

My feet hit the wooden floor with soft palps. The air was still throughout the house. The same stale environment that follows me. It's been awhile, I stared down the carpeted stairs. All I feel is de-ja-vu in this house. That's alright.

I made my way down the stairs, this time I wasn't crawling on all fours. My legs supported me and my upper body. The palms of my hands ached, as if they were in the wrong place, on the wrong body. Okay.

I immediately headed straight for the television in the living room. Placing myself right in front of the TV set, I didn't move my ass from the spot on the floor, and instead forced my arm to stretch out and tease the tv remote into my grasp. I shot back into place like an elastic band, and I immediately began to shuffle through the channels we had access to. Making sure I stayed away from downloaded files. I already know my share of what Strade uploaded onto here.

I settled on some animated series. Random stuff, Something id say was similar to adult swim. Nothing more than background noise.

I leaned back until I placed my back onto the floor below me. My left leg drew upwards and my knee was lifted. I stretched, my muscles tensing and my head slowly shifting to the side as I let out a raggedy groan. The second my body relaxed I immediately sighed. Even though I barely work in this house it felt like I just got back after a 9-5.

It was common sense what was making my body that exhausted.

Notes:

This is a unfinished story, and the next page will be posted after you guys say you want another page! I don't want to write something just for no one to read it.