Voyage 2002

"How are we gonna keep up appearances for the next 24 hours?" May 2002 / Agnetha

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS ABUSE. IT MIGHT BE A TRIGGER. KIND REGARDS / ME & I.

They were waiting in a private room at the airport, Björn and she. They could see the planes taking off through the window. As long as she didn't have to sit in one, she always found it impressive. While she was watching, Björn came up behind her. He put his arms around her waist and his chin on her shoulder. "Are you happy, Aggy?"

She put her arm around his head and ran her hand through his hair. "Yes. It's gonna be lovely!"

In fifteen minutes they would all land, Linda, Jens and Tilda, Christian and Anna. Emma was living in London and would not be joining them until the next day. There was something she had to do with her fellow students that she couldn't cancel. She turned and looked at him. "Aren't you afraid of their reaction? When we'll tell them tomorrow?"

"How many times are you going to ask that question?"

She chuckled for a moment. "I haven't thought about that yet, but I suspect I'll come back to it another time before tomorrow night."

"Little stress case," he said, looking into her eyes and pulling back a strand of her hair. "I'm sure it will be fine and otherwise we'll find a solution. Okay?"

She nodded and laid her head on his shoulder. In silence, she thought back on the past twenty-four hours. She had only just recovered from the turmoil of, say, seventeen hours earlier... The night before, she had suddenly thought it was time to do something for him. After the conversation with Frida, which she had relieved her, she really felt she had to. And so - when they sat next to each other on the sofa a little later - she had stroked his jeans until it was obvious what he wanted. Trousers off, hand in his boxers and go. Björn happy, she unhappy. Björn excited, she nauseous. But she had squeezed her eyes shut and carried on. Once she had lived through this moment, things would get better. She was convinced of that. Meanwhile, hundreds of flashbacks. One after the other.

The first time Asshole grabbed her... December 30 1997, exactly two years after her father had died. She said she didn't feel like doing it.

"Your father would have been proud of you if you did it."

She chuckled at his somewhat misplaced joke. But it wasn't a joke... He grabbed her and threw her on the bed. "You're not good for anything except this!"

Suddenly she understood that it was serious. She tried to get away, but he pulled her back by her hair. A slap in her face with the back of his hand. "Stay down and spread your legs. I'm winning this anyway, so listen to me!"

"I don't want to," she squeaked, hoping to change his mind. "We can just cuddle, can't we?"

She would never forget his sneering laughter... Then he rammed his way in and she thought she was going to die. She wanted to scream, but she couldn't.

This is not happening, this is not happening, this is not happening, this is not happening...

Her eyes were wide open. The bewilderment and shock were too great. HELP! But she couldn't scream and nobody heard her and he came...

How long could she keep this up with Björn? She had counted on thirty seconds, but it had been thirty minutes. She looked at the clock. Oh no, three. Why wasn't he as hard as he was? He had to fucking cum, then this would be over!

"Agge?"

"Yes? Is it okay?" she asked with her eyes closed so that she didn't have to see it.

"No."

His answer scared her. Was it going to take much longer? 

"Why not?" she asked.

"Because you're crying..."