Staring wide-eyed up at him, I wait to see what he does next. I knew he was too sweet. Nobody is ever that sweet. Trying not to cry anymore, I watch him pace around the room and mutter to himself, I can't hear what he's saying.
His hands pull at his hair, making his hand jerk to the side. He snaps his eyes to me and narrows them, looking like an angery bull.
“Clean up this mess while I go tend to our animals." he spits at me, and I can see the veins in his neck starting to poke out.
He's pissed off.
“You made the mess,” I whisper, trying not to make him madder but also not willing to be his maid and clean the damn mess he himself did.
"What did you say to me?" He growled, narrowed his eyes on me, and crossed his arms.
"I said you made the mess. You clean it," I snapped.
"I'm going to give you one more chance to change what you said, wife. I understand that this is all new to you, but you will show your husband the respect he deserves,"
"I'm not your fucking wife. You kidnapped me," I yelled at the crazy lunatic who clearly belongs in a damn nut house."I want to go home."
"You are fucking home wife," he screamed and slapped me across my face.
"This isn't my home," I cried while clutching my now aching cheek.
"I told you I wasn't hungry. I didn't make the mess and I'm not your fucking wife! Stop calling me that," I shrieked.
I don't want to be here at all! I want to go home. He can go get fucked and leave me alone.
Who kidnaps women? Oh, I know a fucking insane person.
Why the heck did I just allow my stupid mouth to open? I have never been the one to be able to keep my mouth shut in situations like this, not when I'm scared.
Suddenly he flies towards me, my eyes can barley keep up with his feet as he almost knocks me over when he pushes his hand up and around my neck squeezing tightly. I try to pull his hand away by clawing and pinching at his skin but he doesn't let go.
“Listen to me, wife. You will do everything I fucking tell you to do, or you will be punished until you understand how to be a good wife to your husband,” he shouts in my face as he squeezes my throat tighter, cutting off my air feeling my lungs fighting to take a breath.
He moves his face close to mine and says," Now clean this fucking mess up!” Before letting my throat go, and walks out of the room without looking back, leaving me behind, a scared mess of a women. This man is really sick or crazy.
Holding my hands around my neck, I cry to myself and just stare the way he just left. My throats burning from being squeezed, I actually thought he was not going to let me go for a second. I swear my death flashed before my eyes.
I should never have gone out tonight.
He's a psycho, a fucking psychopath.
He thinks I'm his wife. He thinks I'll obey him and love him. Well, I know one thing for sure, he's about to learn he can't break me that easy. I'm made of tougher shit than this, I'm not always such a weakly scared woman. I grew up in a bad neighborhood, houses being broken into, drive bys happening. I'm tough and he is about to learn that.
Looking at the mess that he made, I stay sitting on the couch. I'm not cleaning up the shit. He threw the damn bowl like a small child throwing a temper tantrum. That's his problem, not mine.
Taking this opportunity, I look around the room and don't even see any family pictures. I see a lot of dead animal decorations, I mean who makes a damn lamp out of animal bones?
That's sick!
God, now I really am in a horror movie.
Looking around the room, I see the remote control for the TV. Sitting up and testing the chains around my ankle, I walk towards the TV cabinet and grab the remote.
Walking more around the room, he gave me plenty of walking space with the chains, so I can do the cleaning like a good little “wife”.” No, he will find out that he will have to do much more than just slap me and choke me to break me.
Two hours later.
I'm sitting down on this nasty couch watching TV. It only has 5 channels, but 5 is better than nothing, right? I settled into watching some old game show, look at me, I turned into my grandmother.
A few minutes later I heard the front door slam shut, making me jump. Eyeing the mess on the wall, I think I should have cleaned it. That wasn't smart of me but, I couldn't help my decision was made through anger, just like it was his that made the mess.
Feeling my heart trying to beat out of my chest again, I wait for him to walk into the room. Grabbing the remote, I turn off the TV and tuck the remote into the seat cushion. He doesn't need to know I decided to watch TV instead of clean.
Laying back on the couch, I close my eyes and pretend to be asleep, pushing my face into the cushion. He shouldn't be able to see my face this way. Maybe he won't get mad if he thinks I fell asleep? He knows he put me through a lot tonight and he knows he drugged me.
Suddenly I feel him messing with the chains at my feet before I'm yanked up by my hair, I try to hang on to the couch, but I can't. He's pulling me off the couch and down a hall by my hair, not even giving me the chance to stand up.
"You want to disobey me? You learn that a wife should never disobey her husband!” He tells me, in a quiet voice that scares the crap out of me.
Opening a door, he walks and pulls me down the stairs behind him. He still does not slow his pace to allow me to stand up, instead I'm falling down the steps. My poor body is going to be covered in bruises after this.
He is taking me down into the basement.
We made it to the last step, and he throws me towards the back wall where I can see more chains but this time I don't only see ankle chains, I see some for wrists too. Four of them. They look like they are leather cuffs.
What is he going to do?
He goes into an old-looking radio and puts on some soft music before going to this chest in the corner of the room and takes out a fucking bill whip.
Widening my eyes, I started at him, trying to back myself away from him. Can I run up the steps fast enough before he can catch me? Without even thinking about it anymore, I jump to my feet and run for the stairs, I don't even make it halfway up the stairs before he grabs my hair and jerks me back down. My body falling and slamming into each step on the way down. The pain shoots through my back, causing me to scream.
He drags me to the back wall by the chains, I'm kicking and screaming, trying to pull his hands out of my hair to let me go, but he doesn't.
“Please let me go, I want to go home, please don't hurt me, please don't,” I'm a begging and rambling mess. I don't care. I don't want to get whipped. What kind of sick man is he?
Pushing my stomach and face against the wall with his arms, he locks the chain cuffs around my wrist first. I jerk and pull against the cuffs with everything I have left inside me.
"Stop! Please! Just let me go. I won't go to the cops. Please. Please. Don't do this. Please. Let me go home." I cry out, watching in fear as he ignores my words, bending down to my feet. He grabs one pushing it into place on top of the right cuff.
"No! Stop!" I scream, hearing my voice breaking as I try to jerk my leg from his grip.
He doesn't seem fazed by my fighting, my body still weak with whatever he gave me, is no match for his strength.
Closing my eyes, I cry, realizing I can't escape this.
YOU ARE READING
Chained Wife✔️
Mystery / ThrillerI watched her, wanting her and waiting for her. No more can I take watching her from the shadows, no longer can I just be happy with the distance between us, no more can I pretend we share a house when she doesn't live with me. It's now time to fina...
