Hurt Me

PROLOGUE:

My intentions with this story is for it to lead into a M/F dom/sub relationship between a younger female and older male (Sarah and a teacher perhaps?). The way I think I will have it set up is a first person prespective with changing perspectives as the story developes. This prologue is really just for backstory, is short and doesn't contain much X rated material. This will change in the coming chapters but I'm posting this to see if I get any encouragement. Thanks for reading! Enjoy.

Alex:

It was late on a Friday night in a small suburb bordering Philadelphia. My wife of fourteen years, Denise, was working late managing the bar she worked weekends at in the city, which left me to stay home with the twins. Denise and I dated all through high school and I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her from the first time I laid eyes on her. She made life worth living, and I was only all-too-thrilled to find out when she told me she was pregnant after graduation.

I had been working construction for my father through high school so I bought her a ring and asked her to marry me. We lived in a small apartment in the city until my dad passed away two years later. My mother had no idea how to run the company, and since I had been working alongside my father for those years she passed it along to me. My father's name and business both had a great reputation, and business was good. After saving for a couple years and realizing our small apartment was a little too small for twin toddlers, we found a place in the 'burbs to raise our little family.

Denise took business management classes while working as a bartender in the city, and between all her years of hard work there and getting her degree she practically runs the place now. Late Fridays were nothing new to me, so over the years I had established a pretty steady ritual of having friends from work over to drink and play some poker.

You meet a lot of interesting people doing construction, so it's safe to say poker night was always a fun time. The only thing different about this night than any other was that there was a new player. My buddy Dave, that I had been working with at the company for ten years, brought along a friend of his. He was a new hire at work and his name was Frank Urwell. Dave had taken a liking to him after they did a big project together over in East Philly. Dave thought poker night would be a good opportunity to introduce him to the circle, and I, trusting the judgement of my long-time friend, happily welcomed him into our game.

It was nearing one in the morning and all of us were feeling pretty buzzed. There was a game in session, and over the last few hours I had gotten to know Frank a little better. I could see why Dave liked him, he was always ready with a zinger or one-liner and considering most of the beer had been drank, it made for a hilarious night.

We started a new game.

Dave dealt out two cards to each person as they all put their blinds in. There was a small raise almost instantly and when it got to Frank he pondered a few seconds and then folded, pushing his cards away from him. "Hey Alex, where's the toilet?" Frank said, rising from his chair.

"It's upstairs, second door on the left. Just try to be quiet, okay? My kids are sleeping." I replied. I had let poker night run really late as is, and I didn't want to deal with a total shit storm if Denise got back and they were still awake.

"Sure thing." He said as he turned and left the table. The rest of the guys and I continued the game. I rode it out on pocket queens, but on the last flip Dave pulled a three of a kind and I throw my cards down in defeat, shaking my head and calling him vulgarities all with a smile, it was all in good fun. I paid my money to the winner and we all sat around shooting the shit for a while.

After we had all finished our beers everyone started standing up and gathering their keys and belongings. I shook hands, wished them all a safe drive, and led them out of my kitchen door when it suddenly dawned on me that Frank was still in the bathroom. It had been about fifteen minutes since he left the table so after seeing everyone out I closed my door and headed for the stairs.

I reached the top, walked a few steps down the hall only to realize the bathroom light was off and the door was open.

Had he seen himself out while they were all finishing up the game?

He turned back to check if Frank's car was still here when he heard an unmistakable grunting noise coming from his daughter Sarah's room.

All in a flash of a few seconds or less, he both realized what was going on and busted into his fourteen year old daughter's room, witnessing something he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy.

He rushed over and threw the man to the floor, straddling him.

And then everything went red.

 

I come back and my first thought is making sure Sarah is okay. I see her across the room standing behind a man in a uniform but when I try to get up I realize my wrists are restrained in handcuffs.

"LET ME GO" I scream over and over. "LET ME GO I NEED TO SEE MY DAUGHTER."

I am thrashing and screaming but it's to no avail and before I know it there are two officers scooping me off the floor. As they lift me to my feet I look into the corner of the room and realize why I am the one in handcuffs.

Frank Urwell lay on his back in the corner of the room, but you wouldn't know the identity of the sorry son of a bitch just by looking at him.

His face was black and blue, swell spots the size of golf balls.

There was blood pooling in each of his eyes, his nose and jaw were smashed relentlessely.

I look down at my shirt and see that I too have blood spots, although I have no idea if it's his or if it's mine.

One officer crouches down beside him and checks his pulse. After a few moments he looks up and slightly shakes his head with a frown.

I killed him. I fucking killed him.

The two officers lead me out of the room and the last thing I see is the look on Sarah's face.

And I suddenly wish I were dead too.