She Said She Hated Him… Until He Made Her Obey

[betimisho]

And the worst part?I watched it happen.

Patty hadn’t mentioned Dylan in years.Not since our first date, when she’d flinched at a raised voice and whispered, "My ex… wasn’t gentle."

Patty was 15 when Dylan set his sights on her.She was shy, bookish, the kind of girl who flinched at loud noises. He was a wrestler with a smirk that made teachers nervous. They met in the hallway, and he made her compliment. She laughed it off.Big mistake.At first, it was small violations."Fixing" her ponytail—yanking it just hard enough to sting."Helping" her with her backpack—letting his hands linger too low on her hips.
"Playful" shoves—knocking her into walls, then grinning as he "apologized."Patty told her friends he was just flirting.But Dylan wasn’t flirting.And when she didn’t push back, he pushed harder.It happened after school, in the wrestling team’s storage room.Dylan cornered her, just to talk.Then he pinned her wrists to the mats.When she didn’t, he dug his fingers into her thighs until she gasped.Then he bit her neck hard enough to leave a mark.
And walked away.Once he had her, Dylan cut her off.Made her skip lunch with friends to sit with him.Deleted guys’ numbers from her phone.Convinced her she was "lucky" he paid attention to her.By sophomore year, Patty had no one else.

He called it "training."If she talked to another guy, he’d twist her arm behind her back in the hallway.If she wore makeup, he’d wipe it off with his thumb—hard.If she said no, he’d "accidentally" spill hot coffee on her lap.She apologized every time.

Patty was 16 when Dylan stole her virginity.Not in a bed.In the back of his truck, after a party, while she sobbed into his shoulder.
After that, he owned her.Made her send him nudes—"So I know you’re not cheating."Forced her to go down on him in the school parking lot.Threatened to leak her photos if she ever left him.Patty tried to break up once.

Patty finally got free when Dylan graduated early.

I’d held her, promised to protect her. I never imagined she’d run back to him.Then, last month, we bumped into him at a coffee shop.Tall. Broad-shouldered. A smirk that made my stomach twist."Patty?" he’d said, feigning surprise. "Jesus, you look even better now."
She’d frozen.And in that moment, I saw it.The flicker of fear.And something darker.Something like recognition.

That night, her phone buzzed. A single message: Missed you, little girl. She deleted it immediately. But I saw her hands shake. I told her to block him. She nodded. She lied.

A week later, she "ran into him again. She insisted he's changed. He apologized for high school. I should’ve dragged her away.Instead, I let her go to lunch with him. When she came back, her lips were swollen.She said she bit them,nervous habit.Another lie.That night, I found a bruise on her thigh.
Small. Perfect.The size of a thumbprint.

Dylan didn’t rush.He reconditioned her.A "harmless" drink after work.A "platonic" hug that lingered too long.A "joking" command—"Kiss my cheek, Patty. For old times’ sake."And each time, she resisted less.Until one night, she came home reeking of him. She said they just talked but her shirt was buttoned wrong. The first time she let him touch her, she cried afterward. She said she didn’t want to but he knows how to make her obey.
I held her.I forgave her.Big mistake.Because Dylan didn’t want forgiveness.He wanted surrender.

He started training her again.
"Wear the red dress. I always liked you in red."
"Don’t wear panties. I’ll check."
"Call me when you’re alone. I want to hear you say it."

And Patty?She obeyed.Not because she wanted to.But because he’d wired her to.

Last night, she didn’t come home.I found her outside Dylan’s apartment, trembling - I can’t stop thinking about him about how he used to… own me.
I begged her to leave.She walked inside anyway.

I waited outside for three hours.Then the text came.A photo.Patty, naked on her knees.Dylan’s hand fisted in her hair.Her lips stretched around his cock.

Patty came home at dawn.Walked straight to the shower.When she emerged, she wouldn’t meet my eyes.But I saw them.The finger-shaped bruises on her hips.The bite mark on her breast.And the worst part?The smile she couldn’t suppress.

[Bryce 69]

Some Women are naturally submissive sex slaves