Ian finds someone to help him recover

100% fiction!

Russell and I have been together for two years, happily. And one, the most recent, not so, this past year, all he’s done is hurt me. I’ve tried to ignore the clothes that I’m sure aren’t his, and I know aren’t mine, under the bed. I tell myself that he’s just stressed, and that’s why he’s been snapping. But, I know he’s not the same man that I fell for, I know he’s not the one who gave me a ring, even though we’ll never be able to marry here.

He’s stopped sharing our responsibilities. He works, and I just go to a part-time job, so we have extra money, but the house is still clean, and dinner’s still made when he gets home. He’s stopped telling me he loves me, and anything that could be perceived as romantic, is strictly routine. I know he’s no longer mine. But, he definitely still owns me. My eyes turn towards our staircase, and, I almost drop the bag holding the ingredients to his favorite dinner and desert, and the wine we were supposed to share that evening.

A trail of clothes led me up to our bedroom, most I didn’t recognize as either of ours. It didn’t matter, because I knew they weren’t supposed to be here. My head fills with static, and my heart feel as if it simply didn’t want to deal with anymore, so, it died. My vision is blurred with what I knew would be endless tears, as my being here is surely foreshadowing the end of our relationship.

My feet nearly go numb, as they carry me to the stairs, and lower me to my knees. I started to pick up the clothes, and fold them into two separate piles. That was all I was good for in his eyes anyways. The protective layer that has kept me going so long was up again; maybe I had dropped some laundry on the way, and just hadn’t noticed. I knew that was wrong, I had kissed him goodbye, while he wore the cardigan that was now at the base of the stairs. Also, how would I have dropped exactly two outfits, one that I knew, and one that was completely foreign?

I set the pile I didn’t recognize in the laundry room, it had a door, so the little whore he was sleeping with could have some decency for once, and take his clothes off by himself. Or, at least put some clothes on, and find a single man to fuck around with. I knew I couldn’t think that way, I’ve probably never seen the man before in my life, my husband probably took his ring off, there’s no reason to be angry at someone I didn’t even know the story of. I reluctantly walk down the hall way I used to know as ours, and pause with my hand on the doorknob. I hear my husband behind the two inches of door.

“Oh, babe, you’re so tight, are you sure you wanna do this? I’d never want to hurt you.” Moaned the voice I knew all too well, the voice that had said such similar things to me, the night he gave me the ring around my finger, and took my virginity.

“Baby, are you sure you want me to do this to you? I could never hurt you, and I want you to be ready. I don’t care if we wait, we still have forever to go, so, it doesn’t matter to me.” I, in all honesty, didn’t know, but, he was so gentle, he didn’t push me. I still remember the warmth of lingering breath, as he whispered how he’d always love me into my ear. I guess that means he’s lied to me more than once.

Pushing open the door, I stepped in to see my beautiful husband, and some other guy laying on our bed, not even caring that that’s where I slept every night, that that’s where I dreamed of times far from now, where I couldn’t even think about him without smiling. “R-Rus”, I stammered, I knew this has been happening for over a year, but seeing is totally different than a few unconfirmed suspicions. “What are you doing?” I could have fainted at that moment.

I looked to my husband’s secret lover and said, “Your clothes are in the laundry room, second door on the right.” I’m not sure how I said that so calmly, so level headedly, but, I did. He stood up, fully erect, his cock was about 8 inches long, but not very thick. He wasn’t too muscular; he had a healthily thin body, and piercing blue eyes, his auburn hair made slight waves over his head. He looked at my husband, then to me, then back at my husband. The words fell out of Rus’s mouth “Uh, this is my-uh husband.”

I see a tear roll down the lover’s face, as he gets up, looks me straight in the eye and says “Thank you, and, I’m so sorry, I had no idea.” He leaves the room, as I put my former love’s clothes on his end of the bed. I don’t sit, I don’t stay, and all I want to do is leave and never see that bastard again. With a confident turn of the heel, I make way for the door, shut so quietly by his lover. About half way out of the door way, I have to stop when I hear his silky voice.

“Now, come on, honey, we can work this out!” He said something else, but I slammed to door, trying to stop the words from reaching me. I just run out of the hall, down the stairs, and to the front door, until he catches me. This surprised me, as I was unaware I was being followed. I kept going, trying to reach the door handle, and break his grip on me. With the inhuman grace he possessed, Rus spun me around, and gathered me into a hug.

I felt disgusting in his arms, the arms that had been around that other man just a minute ago, and countless others, countless times. The tattoo on his right arm, the way he flexes, the way he rests his bulky head on my shoulder, and whispers so softly into my ear used to make me feel so safe, now I just feel like one of the many, like this is just what he does, so I continue to cook and clean for him, so I continue to pleasure him, if he can’t find anyone else.

“I’m so sorry, I’ve hurt you, but I can’t live without you” These sorts of words used to make me melt, but I was still cold. “If you want to leave, and never even think of me again, I understand, but, for now, I want to see if you can still stand to be in the same room long enough to let me explain my self”. His grip loosens, freeing me, and I now tilt my head slightly, to look him in the eye.

I never noticed how odd his eyes were until that moment, a soft blue-purple, dulled with gray. His black hair was still tousled and spiked, as per usual, but it was a little more tousled than I would have liked.

“Why don’t I go make dinner, I got your favorite, the cooking will give us time to collect ourselves.” I couldn’t believe my own words, the man that had hurt me so many times, the man that I had just found sleeping with someone in our bed, the man that I knew I couldn’t be with, is now the man I was going to cook for, and the man I was going to talk to over it.

I went to the kitchen, and tears rolled down my cheeks. I started a pan, and pot to heat, then collected the bags from the stairs. I could hear him in the living room, he was probably writing a grand speech, one with such sweet-smelling bullshit, I’d have to take him back. About twenty minutes of slaving away, and I was finally finished with dinner, I gave us each a plateful, poured the wine, and set the table. I silently cursed the fact that we didn’t have rat poison. I called out to him, telling him dinner was ready.

He walked in a way that used to make me think he was a dancer at heart, but now made me think of how disgusting he is. He kissed me on the check, and thanked me for dinner; it took all of my self-control not to rub off the residue of many men. He took a deep breath in. I knew I would have to sit through it. But, I knew I was terrified to fall for him again, to be hurt again. “Ian, I couldn’t believe how wrong it was of me to have done that to you. I’ve just- I don’t feel good anymore, and I need you to understand that.

I don’t know how to express how sorry I am, how dirty I feel, having done that, I’ve betrayed you, and I know I have, I don’t blame you, if you want to leave. But, you can’t, you have to stay. You just don’t understand how lost and worthless I feel when I think about what I’ve done to you, and I’m so sorry. I love you, and that’s all there is too it.”

I could have rolled my eyes at that moment; I’m done with being hurt, and falling in and out of love with him. “Russell, I don’t know what to say, even if we were to find some miracle, and make this work out, we’d never be the same, I think we should go our separate ways. You can keep the house, everything, just, let’s break this off. “

Rus seemed to get very angry at that, I tried keeping my words gentle, but, maybe I failed. “You listen to me!” He screamed, I wasn’t about to let him dominate me again. I interjected “No, you listen to me, We’ll never be the same, even if things were to get back to normal, those would be the conditions you were unhappy in, we need to just say goodbye to each other.”

With uncanny grace, Rus shot up, and grabbed me by the neck. He threw me across the room, like a rag doll. “You will stay with me,” He picks me up again, and looks me straight in the eyes. “Where do you have to go?” By now I’m screaming, and trying to get away. He picks me up again, and straddles me, he makes me drop to my knees, and I try and crawl around him. “Your making me very angry love, I suggest you just stay here, and take it.” Rus growls, and gets me back in the position on my knees, I become very scared when he begins to unzip his jeans, what is he going to do to me? He’s still hard from that one guy, who must be long gone by now, and… Oh no.

He starts slapping my face, and grabs my jaw, forcing my mouth open. He penetrates me, and rapes my throat for what seems like hours. I dare not bite him; my slight physique would make it all too easy for him to break a bone. I almost faint, I can’t breathe, as he rams with hardened dick in and out of my throat. I felt so dirty, I didn’t think there could be anything more humiliating. Until he pulled out, and comes all over my face. “Help!” I start plead, “Someone, help me!” I couldn’t very loudly; as my throat is on fire from the unwelcome beating it took.

Boiling tears stream down my face and neck. He hits me in the head with his boot, and I’m now in the fetal position on the floor, he just keeps kicking me, and kicking me. My stomach is bruised, my face and neck are aching, and my legs are burning to take me far away from here. I’m almost completely unconscious, when I’m hoisted up, and laid on the counter. I sit up, and prop my head against the cabinets, and breathe for a while. I open my eyes, searching for the monster that used to be Rus, he stares at me for a while, then grabs the wine bottle from the table.

He gets very close to me and says “You made me do this, see what you could have avoided if you had been a good husband?” This made my sobbing only stronger, until I hear the shattering of glass. I quickly wipe the tears from my eyes to see him rushing toward me with a broken wine bottle. I grab his wrist as the bottle was only a fingers length from my right eye. He would have blinded me with the broken glass. A swift and indiscernible movement from him, and my elbow was facing backwards.

A shot of sharp pain, aired with a dull, aching fuzziness. “Uh-uh,” he mocks “I need to put my mark on you, so others will know that you’re used, and that you’re a bad husband.” The bottle moves effortlessly to my face, I’m unable to block it with one arm unusable, and one restrained. The glass bites into my face, and I hear a grunt of satisfaction from the monster. He drags the bottle downward, and rips it. I can taste blood in my mouth, see it clinging to my eyelashes, and rushing down my neck.

Russell picks me up by the back of the shirt, and throws me out of his house. “Leave me, you piece of shit.” He calls.

I then wake up. It’s been nearly a year and I still dream of that day, I still can’t shake it, there’s a dull pain in my elbow, he totally shattered it, and the doctor said it will probably be slightly painful for the rest of my life. I look in the mirror; four large scars ruin my face, and nearly ruin my vision. None of that matters anymore, I’ve found someone who actually loves me, someone who won’t beat, or rape me. Someone who helps cook, and lay in bed with, wake up with, someone I will make love to, not get fucked by. But I still see the night that ruined me. I still feel dirty, and sometimes worthless.

“You’ve been dreaming” says the velvet voice lying beside me. I met Kumar at the hospital, he was my doctor, and we both fell for each other. He’s very tall, and has wide shoulders. He has dark skin, black hair, and green eyes that seemed to have been sprinkled with gold. He has smile that’s slightly crooked, but is perfectly fitting and natural on his face, with his full, dark pink lips. A thick Indian accent still forms in every word he says.

“Yes, I have.” I sigh sleepily.
“The same one?”
“Of course.”

He kisses me on the cheek. “I know this has been hard for you, you’ve been through so much. I just want you to be happy again. Only time will heal, but, I don’t want you to ever think he’s coming back. He’s been gone for six months now.” I nod my head, remembering reading of Rus’s suicide in the news. “It wasn’t your fault, that man was unstable and abusive.” His tone softens slightly as he pulls me onto his lap. ”I know you might have a hard time adjusting to a relationship again, but, I just want you to know that as long as we’re together, you won’t ever have to worry about being hurt.

I’d never do that to you”. I rest my head onto his shoulder, and he starts to rub my back. I’m beginning to believe him. It’s terrifying, and wonderful. “He hurt you, and I know it will take time for you to be comfortable, and, I’ll wait forever, if that’s what I must do. I just want you to know how happy you make me, and how I’ll never betray you like that thing did.” We stay in that position for a long time, him rubbing my back, and me feeling so safe in his arms.

“Kumar, you have no idea how much you’ve done for me.” He smiles his heart melting smile and says nothing, but looks into my eyes, and caresses my chin.

“Nothing that I wouldn’t do ten more times for you, my angel.” He whispers, and kisses me lightly on the upper lip. “Now, go back to bed, you need to rest” He lifts me, and sets me back on the right side of the bed. “I’ll protect you, forever and always.” Kumar pulls the blankets back onto us, and hugs me around the waist. I fall asleep, and don’t awake again, until the morning sun pokes light onto the floor.

To be continued...