Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > My office romance
“Please Bob, not again,” I begged, his hand locked firmly around my throat, his right hand was ready to punch me in the face again.
“You fucking deserve it,” he growled.
“Please Bob, I’ll do anything,” I begged.
“Anything?” he asked, loosening his grip on my throat.
I nodded.
“Well then Frank, get your ass moving to the bedroom and get undressed,” he said in my ear. He let go of me and let me go to the bedroom. Ad least it wasn’t another large bruise to my collection, nearly everyday I would have to make some excuse for them, it was slowly wearing thin with them, only Gerard knew about it, every time he would say that I should leave him, how? He would find me and hurt me again. I got undressed and sat on the bed. Bob staggered in, holding a bottle of beer, his seventh already.
He put the bottle on the floor and fumbled about with his belt and trousers.
I lay down on the bed, I knew he didn’t love me, he use to be such an amazing boyfriend now I’m his quick fuck and punch bag. He was soon inside me, he didn’t use lube, he didn’t prepare me. I screamed out but he slapped me across the face. I just let the tears run down my face as I gripped onto the bed. He thrusted in and out of me.
He was panting loudly, he use to be so gently, kissing and touching my body, now he just moans and grunts.
“Tell me you love me,” he panted. I didn’t want to, I did loved the old him, but now I hated him.
“I love you,” I muttered.
“Do you love me?” I asked.
He suddenly came inside me. His eyes were closed, coming down from the highs of his orgasm, he then looked at me.
“Your good enough to fuck, you little slut,” he said.
He put his clothes on, took the bottle of beer, I heard the front door slam shut.
I wanted to curl up and die.
I, Frank Iero, twenty three years old and with a abusive guy who I use to call my boyfriend for four years.
“You fucking deserve it,” he growled.
“Please Bob, I’ll do anything,” I begged.
“Anything?” he asked, loosening his grip on my throat.
I nodded.
“Well then Frank, get your ass moving to the bedroom and get undressed,” he said in my ear. He let go of me and let me go to the bedroom. Ad least it wasn’t another large bruise to my collection, nearly everyday I would have to make some excuse for them, it was slowly wearing thin with them, only Gerard knew about it, every time he would say that I should leave him, how? He would find me and hurt me again. I got undressed and sat on the bed. Bob staggered in, holding a bottle of beer, his seventh already.
He put the bottle on the floor and fumbled about with his belt and trousers.
I lay down on the bed, I knew he didn’t love me, he use to be such an amazing boyfriend now I’m his quick fuck and punch bag. He was soon inside me, he didn’t use lube, he didn’t prepare me. I screamed out but he slapped me across the face. I just let the tears run down my face as I gripped onto the bed. He thrusted in and out of me.
He was panting loudly, he use to be so gently, kissing and touching my body, now he just moans and grunts.
“Tell me you love me,” he panted. I didn’t want to, I did loved the old him, but now I hated him.
“I love you,” I muttered.
“Do you love me?” I asked.
He suddenly came inside me. His eyes were closed, coming down from the highs of his orgasm, he then looked at me.
“Your good enough to fuck, you little slut,” he said.
He put his clothes on, took the bottle of beer, I heard the front door slam shut.
I wanted to curl up and die.
I, Frank Iero, twenty three years old and with a abusive guy who I use to call my boyfriend for four years.
Sign up to rate and review this story