Chapter 13 My Fuck Toy
Flashback Continues
Daisy’s P. O. V.
Luke tosses me onto the sofa, anger visible in his eyes.
I shiver at the intensity of his gaze. It’s not the first time I’ve seen him like this-so cold, so scary-but this time I feel like this night is going to leave a deep scar on my heart.
I pull out of my thoughts when I hear the loud sound of a flower vase breaking.
“That bitch spoiled my whole fucking life, and now she came to my party with no shame.” I panic as I see him messing up the entire room in fury.
“You women are all the same.” He leans over me and grabs my arms, digging his nails into my skin, causing me to shiver in fright. “Bloody gold diggers.”
I can only see one thing in his eyes: wrath for women.
In these past years, I always wondered why he despises women, and today I understand the reason. It’s because of Olivia. I’m sure she did something terrible to him and broke my husband so much that he lost himself and became a heartless human being. I feel like killing him for snatching away the Luke I fell in love with during my school days.
I want to explain to him that not all women are the same. I’m different, but I know he won’t even listen to me.
Why, Olivia? Why did you do this to Luke?Nôvel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.
I pull out of my thoughts as he harshly flips me onto my front and ties my wrists behind my back with the ribbon from our marriage anniversary gift.
He lifts my dress and yanks down my panties, exposing my buttocks, then lands a sharp smack on them, causing me to jump and moan.
“If any sound comes out of your mouth, I’ll gag you with my dick.” He warns me, giving a painful tug to my hair, and I bite my lips to stifle my yelp.
I know I might sound crazy right now, but whatever Luke does to me, I like it. I should hate him for treating me with cruelty, but I can’t. My love for Luke is something I can never explain in words. It’s something that keeps me alive. Although he treats me wrongly, at least he is my husband. My heart feels secure and complete somewhere, knowing that whatever he’s doing to me or whatever I’m going through, he’s all mine. Just mine.
As much as I long for his love, I also feel satisfied knowing that he belongs to me as much as I belong to him.
When he suddenly jabs his two long fingers into my opening, I try hard not to scream, digging my face into the hard sofa. He roughly fucks me with his fingers, fondling and hitting my hips.
My heartbeat quickens as I hear him taking off his belt and pulling his zipper down. Then he comes over me from behind and raises my butt in the air by grasping my waist.
“Daisy, you know what your mistake was?” He inquires, and I feel his hardness rubbing between my buttocks. I stay silent because I’m not allowed to speak.
“That you said ‘yes’ to marry me.” He spanks my buttocks, grinding his shaft against my wetness. “Therefore, I make sure to punish you and make you regret your decision every day.” He finishes his sentence, landing a hard spank on my crotch, causing me to fall straight onto the sofa.
“Stay still if you don’t want me to worsen your night,” he warns, again raising my butt in the air.
“Happy Anniversary, wifey.” He grabs my waist and plunges his hard membrane deep into me, causing me to gasp.
“Oops, sorry. There’s the correction. Happy anniversary, my fuck toy.” After wishing me, he gives me hard and fast thrusts, burying my face into the hard sofa mattress and hitting my buttocks. I clench my hands, which are tied behind my back, suppressing my moans.
Every time he calls me his fuck toy, I feel a piercing pain in my heart. Despite the pain, a part of me finds solace because I am his, and he is mine. It’s a twisted form of love, but it’s the reality of our relationship.
“You’re a piece of trash to me, and I’ll always treat you in that manner only. Never forget your place in this house and my life.” He gives me forceful shots, yanking my hair, and I shed silent tears, pursing my lips.
After releasing his anger on me, he unfastens my wrists and rises from the sofa, and I slump onto the sofa, exhausted. I flinch at the loud noise of the bathroom door slamming shut.
It’s been six months of our marriage, but not even a single day has passed where he doesn’t remind me what I am to him. In his eyes, maybe I’m nothing more than a plaything, but in my heart, I still hold on to the hope that one day, he will see me as more than just that. Until then, I’ll endure the agony, sticking to the belief that my love, my true love, will eventually win.
Although our marriage was arranged, I won’t say I wasn’t excited about it. I was, in fact, the happiest when I got to know that my marriage was fixed to him-the love of my life. I thought I was finally going to live a life where I would have my family, people for whom my presence would matter, but my dreams shattered with each passing day.
Our parents were good friends, so it was very natural for us to spend a lot of time together during dinner nights or parties. Besides that, we went to the same school and the same college. I was one year younger than him, so I wasn’t in his class. Still, I always tried my best to stick with him as much as I could because he was my only friend. I lacked confidence in my childhood, but he made sure that nothing bad happened to me. He was my protector.
In school, he was never been like this. He was the sweetest and most caring person. I still remember how many times he helped me-during studies, sports, or even with the slightest problem.
I was never close to my parents because they never had time for me. They were always concerned only about their careers, how much profit their company was making, and whether the stocks of their company were high or not. They never bothered to think about whether their daughter needed them or not.
I remained upset because of them, but then everything changed when Luke walked into my life. No one ever showered their love on me, but his caring gestures towards me made me fall for him. I was going to propose to him after my 12th grade when he was already in college.
Today I understand what happened to him in that one year that changed him so much. I’m certain it was because of Olivia that he turned himself into a heartless person and buried his goodness.
He was never been like this before. He started behaving rudely to everyone. The person who used to be so concerned, even for a stranger in pain, became so heartless that he stopped feeling anybody’s pain.
Before marriage, I was aware he was not the Luke I had fallen for, but I still married him with all my heart and swore to God that I would bring my Luke back-the man I fell for-and I would do anything to make him happy.
He warned me not to marry him, but I was so adamant about bringing back the old Luke that I didn’t listen to him. I wanted him back, even at the cost of my happiness.
He always says he is punishing me for agreeing to marry him, but I know there is something else that I’m not aware of. He hates me as if I have inflicted deep wounds upon him.
As much as his actions hurt me, I hope that one day he’ll find his way back to the person he used to be-the person I fell in love with. Even now, as tears silently cascade down my cheeks, I hold on to that glimmer of hope, praying that one day, he will share his pain with me and let me heal his wounded soul. And one day, our love will overcome the darkness that has engulfed him. As I lay there on the sofa, broken and bruised, I cling to the belief that somehow my love will win.