Falling For The Stoner

Chapter 2

I am awakened by a loud thud. Daymien is home from work, and he had a bad day. I spring up and start to clean up the living room. Then I run to the kitchen and grab him a beer. Rushing back to he living room I see him sitting in the living room on the large recliner. I place his beer on the coffee table next to him.

"Where the fuck were you this morning?" He asks me in a furious tone.

"I had to work. I left you a note. I didn't want to wake you when I left so that you could get some extra sleep," I answer in my most calm and collected voice.

"Well we're having a bunch of people over in about an hour, so get the place ready," he ordered.

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WARNING ***** MATURE CONTENT******WARNING

After our apartment was ready I took a quick shower and styled my hair in loose curls. Looking in the morror at myself I see my curves and my long brown hair. I see a dark shadow matching Daymiens figure in the doorway. My breath hitches when I see the fire in his eyes that only means that I will soon be in pain. The demon stalks toward me with the grace and beauty of an angel.

"So what do you plan on wearing?" He asks my in his soft yet deadly voice.

Without thinking I reply, "I don't know yet."

Bad answer. He leaps at me like a lion at it's prey. Snagging a large chunk of my hair in his hand, I whimper as I am dragged from the bathroom to the bedroom by my long brown hair. When he hears my small noise of pain he smashes my face into the doorway, leaving a red mark where my nose clashed the frame. He throws me on to our bed. He immediately starts to strip from his clothes. He then turns to the bed and roughly grabs my thighs and arranges me how he wants me.

"You will be silent," He says in the most devilish voice I have ever heard from him.

I nod in responce. As he uses me as he wants I look into his lustfilled eyes. They look so empty. He's not the man I love right now. He's not himself. I keep telling myself this. Keep convincing myself of this. Trying to right this wrong. A traitor tear falls and he see's it. He slaps me across my face.

When he is finally done he leaves me to "clean myself up.: I clean the blood off f my face and cover the bruise with layer upon layer of makeup. Finishing it off with a winged eyeliner and Light pink lipstick. Eventually I look presentable. I choose a very nice pink lacey dress with nude heels to wear. Just as I put my heels on the doorbell rings. Composing myself enough so that I don't look dead inside, I get the door and smile at our friends. Letting the inside the greet me with "Happy Birthday!"