Hope

She had never been truly happy for any length of time in her entire life. Not really. Worse still, she had never really succeeded or achieved anything of note despite her intelligence. She had tried, of course. But she had always failed. She had tried to be good enough for her parents but it was never enough. She had tried to excel at school, but there weren't enough hours to study, to master all the material that would be needed for her to be the best. Not only that, but the constant pressure tore at her flaws and insecurities, slowly unpeeling her mental health apart until she was ready to shatter.

She had tried to be a good girl outside of school as well. She had dated repeatedly but she struggled to maintain any long relationships. She didn't want to be a slut but men could smell the weakness in her and would just take what they wanted and leave as she cried and leaked their contempt for her from between her legs. Even the one she eventually married after dropping out of college cared little for her. She was just a notch in his professional life, to have a dutiful wife. Everything she did for him went unnoticed. He didn't care what she had to say nor what she did at home, as long as she smiled the right way and laughed at the right times at dinner parties. And all the time, she was slowly dying inside. No one saw it, no one cared, and she thought more and more of the pills in the cabinet. How many to take and which ones would be the quickest. It would be the only way she could ever escape.

And then at the grocery one day, she ran into him. He smelled the damage and desperation on her like all the abusers before had. He followed her around the store and when no one was nearby, he pounced. She felt his hand on her ass, rubbing insistently, as he chatted to her like he had known her for years. Anyone walking by would have thought they were simply old friends, despite him being twice her age. She didn't respond as her head tilted down, suddenly meek, just an object with a set of holes again. She wanted to cry as her heart raced and her cunt soaked her panties. He whispered in her ear that he knew what she was as he pulled her away from her cart. She meekly followed him to the men's room that reeked of urine and when he pushed her into the stall, she put her hands on the cold wall. She knew what he wanted and cried at how easily his cock slid into her. He used her, all but raped her, bent over a toilet backed up with too much toilet paper with a swirl of shit on top. And she came. God, how she had cum on his cock.

When he pulled out, his white dripped out of her cunt into the dirty toilet. He turned her around and did something that truly terrified her. He kissed her, softly and gently, then patted her head. He thanked her, stroked her cheek, and demanded her phone. She pulled it out and unlocked it before sitting down, unprompted, and sucked his cock clean. She didn't flinch as he took pictures and he wiped her mouth clean as he handed it back to her. Then he slapped her so hard her head hit the stall. He kissed her gently once more and left. She sat there for an hour in the men's room, staring at the photos and the number he had left for her.

It was a month before she called him. After another dinner party where she was ignored by her husband, and where she served no purpose other than to ensure his checklist of things a perfect host had was completed. She couldn't remember the last time he had kissed her beyond a peck on the cheek. When he had last asked her how her day had been. When he had last appreciated anything she had done. He had even shoved her away that night when she urgently tried to give him a blow job, asking her what the fuck was wrong with her. She had gone into the bathroom after that as he fell asleep and pulled out over twenty pills from a dozen different medications. Then she had counted out twenty more. She wanted to swallow them so badly. And then, the thought of the stranger at the store entered her mind. She looked at her phone and at the pills for several long minutes before putting them in her purse, and then she called him.

The next night found her being used worse than the cheapest whore by him. She didn't even know his name but she screamed and cried as he slapped her around, choked her unconscious so many times she could barely think, and fucked her ass bloody. By the time he was done, she was in a fetal position and sobbing hysterically. But then, he truly terrified her. He picked her up and gently sat her down in the shower. He knelt and cleaned her, kissing every mark on her battered body. When he held her and thanked her again under the hot water, she sobbed with a fear she had never felt before. It was the most unnatural thing to her to be held like that and she honestly wanted to die. But he didn't let go. Not after five minutes. Not after twenty. Only when the water turned to ice did he move, and only then to pick her up and carry her to bed. She cried the entire time, a wild animal feeling things it had never felt before and was incapable of trusting them. A broken animal terrified of a simple act, howling in the night.

When she woke the next morning, he was gone. For some reason that comforted her, but the breakfast and note did not. She cried more as she ate the food and read the note a dozen times, and then one hundred. How such simple words could break and terrify her, most could not understand, but they did all the same. Her hands trembled as she read them once again...

"I apologize for not being there this morning but I had urgent business. I know you're scared. I know you're terrified. And I'm sorry for the life that made something as simple as being held more terrifying than anything else I did to you last night.

I'm leaving soon as my business here will be concluded tonight. But I want to give you something few ever have. A choice. A choice to be happy. A choice to be free. A choice to be what you are, but to be accepted, rewarded, and cared for being it. I went through your purse. I saw the pills and the seventeen draft suicide notes you've been working on. I know what you fear. And I know that I can give it to you.

What I don't know is if you can accept it. If you are even capable of accepting it. I hope that you are. I don't care about your husband or your past. I just want you to give yourself fully to me. I promise you will never be ignored, you will never be unwanted, and you will be treasured for being the broken trash that you are. I will hurt you, I will break you, and I will make you scream. And when I am done, I will hold you, wash you, and put every piece of you back together again. I know that last bit is what terrifies you. I won't be shocked if you disappear or I see on the news that you killed yourself and I will know it was because of what you fear.

Please come to the address below tonight at 9 pm. When the ride pulls up, strip everything away, because you will need none of it where you are going. You will never need or want for anything ever again. I only ask that you become mine. My property. And I promise you that I treasure every piece of property I own. The choice is yours. I hope to see you tonight."

She cried as she read it a dozen more times. She slapped herself and punched her thighs in fear and frustration. She called her husband and told him she might be busy tonight. She told him of her recent fears and feelings and how she felt about him and he didn't hear a single word she said. She hung up, screamed, and threw the phone against the wall where it shattered. She walked out onto the balcony and took a step up and thought about jumping. It would be over so quick and she wasn't even scared. She wanted to so bad, but she stopped and went back inside.

That night she stood in the cold as her ride pulled up. She took off her coat and tossed it to the ground. Her black dress soon joined it on the wet asphalt as did her bra and panties, along with her wedding ring. Tears ran down her face as fear welled up inside her. She wanted to run. She needed to run. She craved the pills that were ready in her purse. One swallow and she would never fear again. Instead, she left them behind and walked naked into the vehicle, terrified because of a feeling she had not had in years. Terrified as that feeling swelled in her as she was driven off to become the property of a man who she had only met twice before. Terrified, because for the first time in her life, she felt hope. Hope to be seen. Hope to be cared for. And on a level deep inside and unbeknownst to her, even loved for what she was.

She was finally going to be free.