Read Online Cold-Blooded Beautiful by Christine Zolendz - Free Book Online Page B

shadows as he speaks to one of his friends.
    Think about the dark thoughts in your own mind and about the monsters that hide under your bed.  Think about the things you’re ashamed of thinking, feeling, and doing.  Anything is possible. 
    Nobody in this world is completely innocent .
    For three weeks after losing my baby, David kept a steady line of drugs flowing through my veins, and he was so ingenious about it too. Every few days, he’d change the way he’d administer them to me.  Some days, they were straight into my blood stream with syringes. Some days they were gassed into the air, saturated into a cotton cloth and held over my mouth and nose, or just ingested into my stomach with a small sip of water.  Minutes where I was conscious, I could fight him; fight taking the drugs, but everything was so cloudy and chaotic, I never knew what was real and what were the hallucinations. 
    Every day, I was chained and shackled to our bed, and every day, he’d remind me of how nobody was coming to save me.  How I was crazy and a criminal for what I’d done with the fake company that he created .  After two weeks, my body was so weakened and frail from the constant line of drugs, it began purging itself and shutting down.  To live, I pretended to believe him, pretended to understand that I was his, nothing more than a piece of property, one of his assets.  Pretend it was okay that he could do what he wished to me without my consent.
    It’s not enough to gloss over it, is it? You want to know more, feel more, huh?
    My so-called husband was an uncontrolled, undisciplined sadist .  Forget everything you’ve learned about dominant men, and the kink of BDSM, because a sadist is something I’m not sure you truly understand.  Dominants, men or women, get off by controlling the sexual experience they give to their submissive partners.  They will inflict pain or pleasure. It could be physical or emotional to intensify the experience for the submissive person.  Even if the pain is unpleasant, they’re doing it, knowing that the submissive is finding some sort of pleasure in the act.
    A sadist, not so much.  A sadist is someone who hurts you for his or her own pleasure, never yours.  They get off on the pain they inflict on you, or anyone, and they don’t give a shit about your pleasure.  Oh, I’m sure that there are some sadists out there that enjoy pleasuring their property, but not my husband, not the man I found out I was married to.  I want you to see the whole, ugly reality of a true violent undisciplined sadist, not only to get you to understand what happened to me, but also to stop you from romanticizing any option that I should have fought for my marriage, because I had made a vow.  I vowed to marry someone who wasn’t real . The real David was a sick man.  I sure as fuck didn’t sign up for everything he did to me.  If Aurora wanted him, she could have him.  I would wrap him up, tie him with a bow, and leave him on her doorstep.  May they find happiness together, because I would never be happy with a man who demanded me to do the things she did, never. 
    On an extremely cold morning, I was awakened with the icy blast from a bucket of water that was poured over my head.  “Wake up, my little pet,” David’s voiced cooed in mock tenderness.  There was nothing tender about David. His insides were as hard as rock, and black like coal.
    It took me a few minutes to focus my eyes and climb out of the drug-induced slump my body had been forced to endure.  Sitting up as straight as I could in the bed, I lifted my chin to him.  A mumbled slur fumbled out of my lips and he laughed.
    He laughed at my inability to speak. 
    He laughed at my weakness.
    Thick rough hands clenched my throat, pulling me up off the bed, over the soft white cotton sheets I once adored.  I couldn’t take in any air. In fact, I couldn’t breathe at all.  Warmth flooded my body, sparks of adrenaline-fueled fire burned across