Queen for a Day


Her old man was mean, mean as sin, meaner still when drinking and he drank often.  In his youth he'd been handsome and sly, flush with inherited land and money, hid his wickedness behind flashing eyes and a winsome smile.

She was delicate and pale, an only child accustomed to the warmth and safety of a protective family.

He entered her life in a whirlwind of presents and proclaimed adoration.  Wanting her only for the possession she represented he swept her off her feet and, in a heady rush to the altar, married and carried her to his home by the river.  On their honeymoon night they did not make love.  Instead, he beat her until she passed blood.

In all their years together they never did make love.  Not even once.  Occasionally he covered her as a stallion covers a mare; quickly, ruthlessly, efficiently.  Afterwards he would beat her, usually with his fists, but sometimes with a harness strap.

He beat her often, not just when he mounted her.  Careful to avoid marking her face, and her arms below the elbows, and her legs below the knees, he beat her with savage frequency.

He took her to church on Sundays.  Quietly held her hand in the rear pew.  Sang Methodist hymns in an enviable baritone.  During the sermon he would lean close and whisper the punishment he planned for her when they got home.  He never once failed to keep his word.





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This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)