Sign up to EliteSkills

Already have an account? Login to Roleplay.Cloud
Forgot password? Recover Password

Won't you tell her, she's beautiful? +pt

Author: MidnightMelody
ASL Info:    18/f/US
Elite Ratio:    2.95 - 44 /52 /55
Words: 2295
Class/Type: Story /Misc
Total Views: 1450
Average Vote:    No vote yet.
Bytes: 11845


so here's a short story i wrote.. read the second one too.

Won't you tell her, she's beautiful? +pt

“You are getting married to Raj Chandur.” Marilyn’s mother told her flat out. Marilyn had just turned 17 and was by far not ready to face the world, but even though she really was unfamiliar with all of the cares of adulthood her mother just seemed to want to kick her out of the nest as soon as Marilyn could flap her wings.

Marilyn just replied with a simple, “Yes, ma’am,” Not really caring much at the moment that she was getting married or maybe it was the idea that she was getting married hadn’t really seemed to hit her yet. Marilyn’s mother expected her daughter to be one of those girls that fuss, fight and bite when getting married to a total stranger, but no Marilyn wasn’t that type of girl was she? Nope Siree. Marilynn dealt with matters of stressful standards very well for her years.

Marilyn had been brought up to think she was not very beautiful, that she was very lazy, not worth anything at all and that dirt had a high price over her head, that she would never be in a marriage of love but of responsibility and obligation, that if anyone found out her secret she would be murdered. From infact, despite what she was told deep inside she disagreed with her parents. She never felt that her parents loved her. They never said good night. They said goodbye or gave her hugs and kisses even though Marilyn longed for their touch in a kind way. Her father was a drunkard during the evening and a very important business man during the day. He led a corporation which unfortunately for his employees was a sweat shop. She felt sorry for the children, but there was nothing she could do to ease their labors because she had plenty to do herself being an only child. She forced herself to think that families sending their children to sweat shops were all they could to do to live and maybe that’s true.

Marilyn had no friends and her parents told her it was because Marilyn was of no value and that Marilyn was butt-ugly. Truth was Marilyn was a very pretty girl. She had these very dark eyes that looked like dark chocolate –the healthy kind. When she was sad they called an almost desperate, helpless appearance with the roundest of them, but when she was happiness they seemed to shout that everything was A OK and would never be any different. She had a bright smile, but no one knew that because she never ever smiled. Her parents didn’t like her smiling whenever; a smile would occasionally slip usually when Marilyn was given more than scraps to eat when she turned a year older. They would shout at her, saying what a disgrace she was the day she was born. She tried to ignore these comments as best as she could, but it hard to not take them to heart when she was forced to hear them everyday. Some days she wished she was never born and other days after she was done cleaning every spot and speck she dream about suicide. Something painless and quick, but nothing came to mind and she didn’t want to die a painful death. In fact, she hated pain. All the things that she was afraid of had to do with either pain, or a painful death.

But here she was to be married tomorrow and she didn’t really care. Didn’t she? No, she really didn’t. Not Really. As the hours passed by she wore a very plain long-sleeved white dress for her wedding. Nothing flashy. Nothing expensive. She wore not a simple piece of jewelry, not that she cared for such things she usually just found them oddly gorgeous but not for her. Nothing was for her. She was just a product, lower than dirt, completely worthless and overall as was spoken to her “A worthless fucking piece of shit” but even that wasn’t entirely true because even shit had a value and she had none. She wore no make-up. Her black hair was wrapped up in a bun, secretly she loved the way it felt cascading down her back, but she never wore it like that. Once when she did, she was given seventy-five lashes because… well… she didn’t know. Her parents never told her. Something she would just get lashes, for lashes sake, not knowing what she did wrong. Heck, one again as they told her she existence was a crime. A crime she could not help but commit unknowingly.

The wedding went slower than she expected it to go and she just stayed quiet only answering when spoken to. Some would say that this if the behavior of the perfect wife. Marilyn had no intent on being the perfect wife… she just didn’t care. She lived her life as if she wasn’t truly living it at all. Afterwards her and her new husband went home. All of her belongings had already been moved there, but she thought nothing of it. Raj wasn’t a handsome man and he didn’t seemed kind either. She wondered for a minute if her life would be different than it had, but of course it would! She’s a married woman at seventeen, which is legal with parents consent. What did her parents care as long as they never had to worry about them again? Sometimes the reason why she didn’t kill herself was because that would bring them too much pleasure, and bad and ungrateful as it sounds she didn’t want her parents happy.

He led her around her new home showing where the kitchen and bathroom was; as if that’s all she would ever need to know that as their bedroom of course. She suddenly was a bit scared. She had never shared a bed with a man before, and her … husband thought she found that a bit odd to say being what her age and all, was a bit older than herself. She guessed to be in his early thirties if not late twenties. In a way, she found him repulsive. His skin was too dark and he had unkind eyes. She could always read people by their eyes. She just hoped that he wouldn’t be too unkind to her, at least not enough to make it unbearable.

Raj led her back in their bedroom after he finished the tour. Somehow deep inside she knew something bad was going to happen. She just knew it. His eyes seemed colder…harsher. He grabbed her hair roughly, “If you scream, I will kill you.” She nodded her head slightly. He then grabbed at her dress. “What are you doing?” Marilyn asked. She didn’t know about rape or sex. No one had ever told her about these matters before. “What does it look like I’m doing?” he responded harshly. “I... I don’t … k-know.” She stuttered. She really didn’t. Raj stopped what he was doing and stared in disbelief at her. Raj didn’t want an ignorant wife, though it would probably make things easier and tried to explain reproduction to her though it was a very lame attempt because she barely understood what was going on when he started to take off both of their clothes. She did not scream, thrash or yell remembering that if she made any type of protest she would die, and it would have probably been painful… not a very good idea. She looked away, trying to think of everything at once, trying to keep her mind busy and not think how painful human reproduction really was, but in her attempt to be brave and bear through it all she failed. Tears sprung to her eyes as she felt her insides being ripped apart. She whimpered or groaned with each trust. She never want to partake in this ever again, though somewhere she doubted this would be the last time she would be put through this. Raj moans could heavier and louder until it seemed that’s all she was able to hear. “If I knew you were this good in bed, I would have paid lots more for you.” He mumbled as a yet even loader groan rolled passed his mouth. It surprised Marilyn that she was bought and paid for. What was she to expect? It saddened her in a way to be thought of once again just as a toy or a piece of property, but she shoved that thought aside because being like this was all she had ever known to be. Marilyn whimpered and he shoved himself as far as he could possibly go one last time. His body shook, then collapsed before finally rolling off. She felt nasty and disgusting. Surely this was not what her life was supposed to be like.

Several weeks went by. During the day she would cook and clean. After he had showered and eaten he would “make love” to her as he called it. She didn’t feel though it was “making love” because it didn’t feel very loving at all just like he was using her for his enjoyment while she cried silently and whimpered when his hunger for lust was too unrelenting which was practically every evening, but she didn’t scream or cry out. She knew better. She was the quiet wife that no one really paid attention to.

A couple days later while she was waxing the floors, her body was overcome with nausea. At first she thought that it was the waxing oil that was getting to her, but then realized that she was still feeling sick afterwards. Day in and day out she puked her guts out. She cursed her existence, hoping for reprieve. Raj didn’t care if she was sick or not, he just needed his amusement every evening. Even when she felt she was going to vomit again he would take her to bed. She became even more miserable than every before, but all she could do was lay there as he had his way with her, too weak to even refuse.

One evening Raj didn’t come home. Marilyn waited up, for she feared he would be angered if she fell asleep. Her belly grew noticeably bigger, and she realized that she had become pregnant. She was scared though she tried not to show it. She of course had never been pregnant before, nor knew anyone that had been or currently was… so she had no idea what to expect. As she waited up late, she heard a loud knock at her door. She opened it to find a man in a long trench coat, “Yes, may I help you?” “Are you Mrs. Chandur?” he questioned. “Yes, I am…” “Well, I’m sorry to tell you this, but I’m afraid that your husband passed away earlier this evening. I’m terribly sorry.” She sighed not knowing how she would live. She needed to keep this baby alive. “What am I to do?” She asked in deep thought. “Don’t you have any family?” ‘No,” “Do you know if your husband had any family?” “No” “Do you know of any one that would take you in?” “No” “Nobody?” She shook her head. “Oh…good luck on that ma’am. I must get going.” He said. She nodded once again and then started to shut the door, but just as it was about to close he shoved his foot in the way. She looked at him surprisingly. “Why don’t you say at my place until you get everything settled out?” Marilyn smiled. It felt very odd for her to smile since she had only done it a few times, but she was truly happy at the moment. She felt that this stranger truly had compassion and kindness and she wanted to do whatever she could to keep it that way.

She moved her stuff into his house the very next day though it wasn’t very much. Just a few things here and there. Things were going very well and she tried to please him in every way that she knew how. She didn’t want to lose his kindness. To others, she may have seemed needy and desperate for affection that is. Truth to be told, she was starving for affection and she found her source of affection and love in this man. She did everything she was told and replied to him truthfully. One evening he told her that he had a surprise for her, knowing that Marilyn could handle the surprise he transformed in from of her. She gasped in surprise and delight. For the longest time she had thought that she was the only one with the so-called beast but yet here was another who transformed in a wolf just like she did and wasn’t afraid of it either.

Submitted on 2006-10-23 22:27:37     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
Edit post

Rate This Submission

1: >_<
2: I dunno...
3: meh!
4: Pretty cool
5: Wow!


  Interesting story with a most peculiar twist at the end. There is some grammar and spell checking that needs to be done but this is truly a great story.
| Posted on 2006-10-25 00:00:00 | by Katana Ryoko | [ Reply to This ]

Think Feedback more than Compliments :: [ Guidelines ]

1. Be honest.
2. Try not to give only compliments.
3. How did it make you feel?
4. Why did it make you feel that way?
5. Which parts?
6. What distracted from the piece?
7. What was unclear?
8. What does it remind you of?
9. How could it be improved?
10. What would you have done differently?
11. What was your interpretation of it?
12. Does it feel original?