A Cold Dish

[Malady]

Teaser: Why don't women get vengeance? Why is it always men? Why did Carl get to go on with his life without any consequences? She needed him to be taught a lesson. She needed to make him see what he had done. To make him recognise the fact of his abuse and know that she was not his victim anymore.
She spent two years of planning and fantasising about this moment, she was not going to let it all fall apart now. .
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The author of this story has read and accepted the rules for posting stories. They guarantee that the following story depicts none of the themes listed in the Forbidden Content section of the rules.

The following story is a work of fiction meant for entertainment purposes only. It depicts nonconsensual sexual acts between adults. It is in no way meant to be understood as an endorsement of nonconsensual sex in real life. Any similarities of the characters in the story to real people are purely coincidental.
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Index:

• Chapter 1
• Chapter 2

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Title: A Cold Dish
Author: Malady
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A Cold Dish

Property

Ella gripped the gun-like plastic handle of the Taser in her hand, taking a little reassurance from just having it in her pocket. She stood beneath a 'For Sale' sign to a detached mid century house that stood at the end of a short drive about 50 meters away. The brochure described it as 'a spacious home, with period features and significant potential for a contemporary refurbishment'. She understood this to mean it hadn't been decorated since it was built. She didn't care what it was like, other than it fitted the criteria of being detached, with a fair sized gap between it and the neighboring houses.
It was a hot day and she was over dressed in her knee length coat and wide brimmed hat. She had bleached her hair, and the large dark glasses completed her efforts to avoid innitial recognition.
She was a medium figure, 5'6 and a little over weight, with large brown eyes and a naturally kind face. She had always been a little chubby, which she had struggled with before, but now she was comfortable with who she was, and was learning to love herself for that.
Carl Brookes, arsehole, abusive ex, and estate agent, arrived 10 minutes late. He hadn't changed. Tall and athletic, with short cropped black hair and olive skin. He was dressed in a suit and tie, and smiling his confident breezy public smile as he introduced himself and offered his hand.
Ella ignored it and made a show of looking at her watch as she turned and walked towards the house. She hoped this gave the impression of being a busy women who was a little annoyed at being left waiting. The truth was she couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze. Her heart was pounding and she was filled with the urge to run, to quit already. She steeled herself to go through with this. He was not going to win.

It was seven years since she had seen him last. Seven years of turmoil and healing, self help, rehab, and therapy. She had never wanted to see him again. In fact for many years the very thought of seeing him had triggered feelings of panic and nausea. But that changed about 2 years ago, watching some trashy action film of one man's vengeance. It had been a light bulb moment. Why don't women get vengeance? Why is it always men? Why did Carl get to go on with his life without any consequences? She needed him to be taught a lesson. She needed to make him see what he had done. To make him recognise the fact of his abuse and know that she was not his victim anymore.
She spent two years of planning and fantasising about this moment, she was not going to let it all fall apart now.

She took a deep breath as he unlocked the front door and followed him inside. The house smell of both new and old, the smell of fresh paint mixed with the musty barren odour of an old floorboards that had only recently seen the light of day. No furniture, no carpet, nothing to dampen the sound of the footseps on the bare wooden floor. The front had door opened into a modest hallway with a flight of stairs ahead of them running up the left hand wall. To the right of the stairs, a corridor ran straight through to a kitchen at the back of the house. There were two doorways on the right hand wall leeding to what would presumably be the lounge and dining room.
Ella walked past the first doorway and stepped through the second as Carl began a speal about the house and its space and character. She wasn't listening, she was willing herself on to see this through.
She crossed the bare room and turned to stand with her back to the far wall, facing him as he entered, so arrogant in his suit and tie and fake smile. He was so good at playing the good man, everybody thought he was charming and wonderful. But she knew what he was like behind closed doors.
She hated him.
She hated everything about him.
He seemed a little taken aback that she hadn't remained in the hallway to hang on every word of his estate agent bullshit.
"Perhaps you have some questions?" He said, trying a different tack.
Her heart seemed to slow as she realised she was ready. This was it. Time for Carl Brookes to learn a lesson.
With one hand in her coat pocket, she used the other to remove her hat and let it drop to the floor. Her bleach blonde hair spilled out over her shoulders. Looking straight at him, she took off the sunglasses, sending them to join the hat with an oversized clatter against the bare boards.
Then, for the longest moment, there was a silence . He stood with his mouth slightly open looming her up and down, a an expression of puzzlement changed to recognitiion. He smiled. Nolonger the warm friendly salesman smile. A smile she knew too well. Smug and knowing, as if he had just been proven right in some cunning game.
"Ella?"
"Hello Carl"
He took a step towards her.
"Stay there!" She blurted. "Don't come any closer".
He stopped, his eyes meeting hers.
"What's this about Ella?"
She held his gaze. She was not the broken victim anymore. She was stronger now, nolonger scared of him. Nolonger wilting under his inspection.
"This is about closure, Carl." She said, her voice firm and calm. "This is about me telling you that what you did to me was wrong." They weren't the words she had practiced so many times. But that didn't matter, she thought. They were her words, and with each one she felt stronger and more alive than she had felt in a very long time.
"This is about you having the chance to say sorry, which is more than you fucking deserve."
He open his mouth to speak.
"No! Not yet. I will tell you when you can speak."
"Ella, baby"
He spread his hands, palm open.
"No! Right now you will listen. I am not your baby, or your doll. I am not a toy or a piece of meat, Carl. We are not just objects to own and humiliate for your fucked up sexual fantasies. I am a person. A woman. And you will treat me with respect."
She paused. Drinking in the moment.
"I nearly killed myself because of you. Because of what you did to me. You made me think I was worthless Carl. You made me think that nobody else wanted me. That I was not worthy of love. But it wasn't true. What you did to me was wrong Carl! Do you see that? Can you understand that?"
Her question hung in the room.
"Have you finished?" He said.
His smile was gone, replaced by a cold dark look ‐ the look he gave her when she had dared to do something he didn't like. But this time she was ready for it. This time she wasn't scared of it.
"No Carl, I am not finished" she gripped the tazer tighter in her pocket. "If you have something to say, say it. But unless it starts with the word sorry, don't fucking bother."
He didn't reply. Instead he took a step forward. Then another. With a third step he was halfway across the room.
"Don't come any closer!" She said it firmly, she knew this was a make or break moment and she was ready for it. She almost wanted him to keep coming so she could use it. So she could hurt him. No where near what he did to her, but just enough to feel what it was like.
He stopped, standing in the middle of the room and looking at her.
Then he took another step.
And other.
He was arms length from her now and all she had to do was pull her hand from her pocket and fire the twin barbs that would rob him of all muscular control. Once fired the Taser became a stun gun, dispensing high voltage shock on contact. She had imagined it so many times, imagined watching him convulse. Imagined the look on his face as he trully realised he wasn't in control any more.
But she couldn't move. Her arm was fixed. Her whole body frozen
The back of his right hand hit the right side of her face with enough force to send her realing backwards, the side of her head exploding in pain as she fell against the wall behind her. Then he was upon her, hand gripping her throat, his body pressing to her, pinning her against the wall as he pushed his face to the side of hers.
"You've got some fucking nerve, Ella!"
His hand squeezed her throat, choking her fully for a moment before relaxing.
"You think you can just disapear, treat me like I never existed, then just ambush me at work with this bullshit?!"
He forced his right leg between hers, and squeezed his hand again, feeling her choke and struggle for breath before loosening his grip once more.
"But thats not why you're really here, is it? We both know why you're really here."
He lifted his knee suddenly, driving it hard against her sex, lifting her from her feet and forcing a cry of pain from her lips.
"You're here because you are mine." He laughed, his cruel mocking laugh. "It doesn't matter how far you go, or how long you stay away, you will always be mine Ella."
He stepped back, one hand still pinning her, while the other gabbed her coat lappel, tugging it open to reveal her white blouse and black skirt beneath. He snatched at her blouse, scattering its buttons across the floorboards as he tore it open. Then it was the turn of her bra, yanking it downwards, to the left and then the right, exposing her breasts and nipples. All the while she stood pinned, just about able to breathe, her impotent hand still gripping the tazer but doing nothing to defend the rest of her body.
"Thats better!" He laughed, before spitting in her face, his saliva flecking her cheek and forehead.
"Now you look more like the Ella I remember."
He let go her thoat and imediately grabbed her hair, pulling her downwards and off balance before pushing her hard with the other hand to send her sprawling to the floor.
Her head was throbbing and spinning.
This wasn't what was meant to be happening. She was meant to be in charge. She finally let go of the taser to use both hands to pull herself up onto all fours. His polished leather shoe connected hard with her stomach, driving what little breath she had from her in a gutteral grunting cry, and sending her sprawling once more.
"You fucking stupid cunt! What did you think was going to happen?"
He fell upon her, turning her onto her back and pinning her down as he forced his legs between hers, one arm across her throat and shoulders, the other pulling up her skirt, thrusting between her legs, pulling her panty gusset until it tore and gave way.
She twisted and writhed, scratching at his face, slapping at him, but he simply slid his arm upward pressing on her throat until she stopped, wide eyed and unable to breath. He relaxed the pressure, his eyes boring into hers as he allowed her air.
His other hand tugged at his zipper, freeing his cock to spring hot and hard against her sex.
"Did you think i was going to say sorry and beg for you to come back?"
She twisted her head away, tears welling. He released her kneck fully, grabbing her face, forcing it to face him.
"Look at me when I am speaking to you, cunt!" And with that he thrust upwards, driving his hard cock into her dry hole, squeezing her cheeks hard, digging his fingers in to muffle her scream as he impaled her. He pulled back and thrust again, forcing a whimpering sob from her pouting crushed mouth.
"Mmmmm fuck Ella, even dry you're looser than I remember, but then you never could leave your hole alone could you".
He laughed and grunted as he thrust again, harder this time, slamming his hips between her thighs and forcing the head of his cock painfully against her cervix, looking into her eyes with sadistic pleasure as he hurt her.
Her eyes were streaming and her chest heaved with sobs as he began to fuck her.
"If you didn't want this you wouldn't have come back, Ella! This is what you are to me cunt!"
His thrusts were becoming easier, less painful as her sex responded to its violation, lubricating his cock with her juices. She closed her eyes as she sensed it, knowing what was coming next.
"That's it. See? Getting all wet for me, cunt. Because this is what it is for."
She hated her body. Hated how it betrayed her every step of the way, from her impotent hand to her treacherous cunt. Eyes closed, she sobbed as he thrust over and over, fucking her into the hard dusty bare floorboards, her tears rolling down each side of her head to wet her ears and hair, her sobs and cries made all the more resonant by the emptiness of the room.
Then she felt it.
The tingling aching feeling.
"NO!" She shook her head as she screamed the word, the disgust and revulsion fueling a burst of futile resistance, slapping and writhing, but he simply gabbed her wrists with each hand and slammed them into the floorboards above her head.
He was laughing, pressing his whole weight on top of her as he thrust his cock violently into her.
Her energy spent she reverted to sobbing, lying limply beneath him, her body jerking with each thrust, and with each drive of his cock deep inside her, with each press against her clit as he bottomed out, it built - the tingling aching yearning of her approaching orgasm.
"Please... " she sobbed, "please stop".
He froze, holding himself with just the tip of his cock inside her, sweating and breathing hard. He grinned.
"Why would I do that?" And with the last word of his sentence he thrust back inside, driving a cry of pain and sickening pleasure as her hips involuntarily thrust to meet him.
He laughed and thrust again, relishing the torment on her sobbing face.
"Are you on birth control?"
She said nothing, turning her head away with a grunting sob as he thrust again.
"ANSWER ME!"
She shook her head, eyes screwed tight, snivelling and grunting with each unrelentling thrust.
"Stupid fucking bitch!" He spat in her face. His spit mixing with the tears and smeared makeup. "But i gues it's what a bitch is for."
With those nasty hateful words her orgasm exploded. Her hips thrusting up to meat him as every muscle in her body strained. Her cunt clamping, spasming, cumming around his cock.
He didnt stop. Pistoning in and out of her as he watched her face contort with such conflicted pleasure and hate and humiliation.
"That's it Ella. Good girl." He laughed as her muscles released. Her body spent. Whimpering and sobbing as she went limp beneath him once more.
"Now its my turn."
He didn't take long. A few more thrusts and he was tensing, grunting, and grinding into her with short deep thrusts as he errupted, emptying his cum inside her, flooding her with his seed.
He lay on top of her, panting and laughing, before pulling himself up and standing over her. She felt his cum spill as his cock slid from her cunt, running over her arsehole to soak into her dress.
"Get up!"
His voice was the same measured and controled tone that he always used, a tone ingrained in her psyche, in her muscle memory, a tennor that had been beaten into her. She responded mindlessly, automatically rolling over to push up onto her hands and knees, before forcing herself to stand. Her legs were week, and her hips complained painfully as she brought her thighs together. Her back was sore from the hard floor and the force of his pounding. She steadied herself with one hand against the wall as more of his seed spilled down the inside of her thighs. There was a roaring silence in her head, like she had been listening to the world on full volume and someone had just cut the cable.
"I didn't see a car." He said, matter of factly. "Did you come by bus?"
She nodded. Eyes still closed, her whole body achingly weak and trembling.
"Well we can't have you catching the bus like this. You're a fucking mess." She felt him pulling at her coat, refastening and patting off the dust. She flinched as he thrust the hat back onto her head, before sliding the sunglasses onto her face.
"That will have to do." He said. "I will drive you home, you will invite me in, and we will spend some time reminding you of your training."
She said nothing. There was nothing she could say. He was back in control and what he said is what would happen. She felt so stupid for thinking she could do, or be, anything different.
She finaly opened her eyes to see him standing infront of her.
"Do you understand?"
She nodded.
"Say it."
"I understand." She mumbled.
"What do you understand, Ella? Tell me."
"I understand... that you will take me to my flat, and you will fuck me again".
"Where, Ella. Where will I fuck you?"
"You will fuck me in my mouth.... and in my ass."
"Good girl" the familiar mocking phrase cut into her. It was as if the 7 years had never happened, as if nothing had changed, and she was right back where she was before.
There was nothing she could do to stop it.
She let go of the wall, standing shakily on her own two feet. She pushed her hands into her coat pockets to find the hard plastic handle of the Taser. A wave of shame and regret washing over her as it reinforced her failure and weakness.
He walked to the doorway, and turned to look her up and down.
"Hurry up slut. You have some making up to do."





End of chapter 1
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[Claire]

Definitely a unique setup, I like it! I don't remember reading another story here that begins with a failed revenge attempt. Stories with victims who become victims again years later seem to be rare in general.

I'm really curious where you will take this and how many chapters the story is going to have. Will Ella ultimately find the courage to get her revenge? Or will this be a story of complete submission from now on? I'd be more interested in seeing various form of resistance from her, but I honestly can't predict where this will go based on the first chapter alone.

[Lager]

hoping this will be continued