Sweet Retribution (Book 2) (Editing and Improving) x

Rehearsing Refusal Part 2..

TW - Rape and Brutality included in this chapter.

Past Tense

I was brought back to the land of the living by a bucket of ice cold water that is tossed over me.
"For fuck sake man!" I growled, wiping the water from my eyes as I wearily stood myself upward.
Jordan didn't like that and rewarded me with a swift backhand that knocked me back onto the bed I had just stumbled up from.
"Well, do you want me to fucking get up or not?!" I yelled, cupping my hand to my now throbbing cheek.
"Stop fucking swearing Adara!"
For the dramatic flare and purpose of intimidation, my loving fiancé  stepped so close to me that our noses were almost touching.
"But it's okay for you to do so?" I retorted with a very big 'fuck you' snort to follow.
Gripping hold a fistful of my hair at the crown of my scalp, Jordan snapped my head backward so abrasively, my neck made an ungodly cracking sound.
"Do you really want to keep testing me, when lover boy is in my fucking room?"
Every word was spat into my ear with as much venom as he could muster and though I tried my hardest to convince myself that he was bluffing and just wanted me to submit, I couldn't help but feel the panic for Phoenix, hit me.
"No."
'No what?'
'No, I don't want to keep testing you,'
"We will stand here all fucking day until you address me properly, I don't care in the slightest."
He was waiting for me to add 'Master' to the end of my reply but for me it was the peak of degradation and I always tried to stall saying the grim fucking term.
Pulling harder on my roots, my scalp burnt and I cried out.
"Say it properly!"
My eyes had a fiendish, rebellious glint in them as they locked with Jordan's soulless ones. I wasn't going to make this easy for him. I've been his victim for almost three years now, surely he must be tiring of ordering me around.

Having had enough of my stubborn disobedience, Jordan is quick to use his free hand to hit me in my outstretched throat, which I had to give to him, was a new one. Winded, my body attempted to collapse to its knees from the assault but with Jordan's grip on my hair, I could do no such thing. So, whilst I clutched both hands to my throat, he decided  that this was an ideal opportunity to throw me against the wall. I collided against it with a loud thud and a ghostly cry of pain scratched its way out of my oesophagus. Thankfully, I managed to stay on my feet.
Despite my breathless groans of discomfort, I was quickly silenced when Jordan thrusted his forearm across my throat, assuring I could not move, speak or breathe without his mercy to do so.
I swear I should just become a roll of wallpaper, I'm always plastered against the wall by this fuckwad.

"Now, here's what your going to do, you are going to apologise to me in the way you have been taught, you are then going to dress in the gown I have laid out on our bed and you are to do it without anymore problems, am I clear?'"
I knew he was serious, his tone had darkened as had his eyes. A wiser woman would have most likely nodded, the lesser me from last year would have submitted too but now? Pfft nah, I had to get one last remark in.
"O...or what?" I croaked out, struggling not to chuckle at how red and enraged his expression had become.
He didn't stall, he threw me to the floor and sent three back-to-back kicks into my stomach. The pain was not unfamiliar but it still hurt on a major scale. I tried to keep my mouth shut but when he threw another kick, I called out for him to please stop. We all know by now that such pleads fall upon deafened ears.

Another kick to the abdomen and then came the dreaded rattle of his belt buckle. He loved a good old tradition. Jordan's psychopathic father would batter him with his belt for every little thing, even something as small and insignificant as dropping an egg in the kitchen. It was only right for him to honour that sadistic bitch by battering me with that same strip of leather. Please do note the sarcasm and lack of empathy where I say that.
Jordan tears the shirt I have on and flips me, rather expertly, onto my aching stomach.
"Why...?" The first hit hurts the most as it is both burning hot and freezing cold all at the same time, "can't you...?" the second and third assault is to paint a pretty picture in my skin "just do as you're fucking told?!'" The fourth and fifth caused the nausea to make an appearance but it's often the tenth that has the vomit actually project down myself.
I wailed pitifully as he approached the eighteenth lash but he didn't stop there/ Jordan loved beating me, the sweet concoction of seeing me suffering, seeing my skin red raw, cut and bleeding was addictive to him, he could never get enough.
It is only when Cameron enters the room with an equally battered Phoenix that Jordan comes back to the present and notices how severely hurt my back now was.