He laughs at her.

James regards her with cold laughter before pushing past her. He enters the living room with the entitlement of a king and stops to turn and take it in before falling, heavily, onto her couch. It was the couch they had shared when dating, and it sags under his weight now as it had in the past. He parts his legs while staring at her, the crotch of his jeans straining around something unfamiliar. James was modestly endowed at best when she knew him, his shaft both short and thin. What Kendall finds herself staring at now, however, is neither.

She swallows. “Get out.”

“No,” James cackles.

Kendall glares. “Get out!”

“Make me.” He stares back at her, grinning like a chimp, and she remembers then how small and weak she is compared to him. Though tall for a woman and quite stout, where she could stand as Jackson’s equal, she is dwarfed by James’ size and weight. The power disparity between them made her legs weak. “Or, better yet, shut your damn mouth and go get me a beer.”

Kendall, though bothered by his words, moves to obey him on instinct. She is partway to the kitchen before she stops and turns to face him. “We don’t have beer,” she says, and James turns a critical gaze on her. Under his scrutiny, she feels both anxious and eager to please him.

“You fucking kidding me? That pussy don’t even drink beer? Then what the fuck do you have, Kendall?”

Standing still, Kendall stammers, “We have water, and milk, and Jackson has some soda in the fridge…”

“Then bring me one of his sodas for fuck’s sake.”

Kendall leaves the room quickly, old fears rising with a sudden, inherent urge to obey. She grabs James a soda and on her way to him says, “But, this is Jackson’s.”

James grunts. “You think I give a fuck? That faggot stole you from me. Least I can get out of it is a fucking soda.”

Kendall frowns as she stops beside the couch. “He didn’t steal me,” she says. “I’m not an object to be taken, James.” She offers him the soda even as she chides him, her body moving of its own accord. He meets her with a stare, waiting until she opens it for him, and then he takes the soda from her and slurps it as she waits at his side. Her heart hammers watching him, and her ears remain open to his words, compelled by a willing body to obey him.

A dizzying arousal sweeps over her as he glares over her. She blinks, and she stares, and her nipples ache inside her blouse. Even her pussy is wet, though she isn’t sure why. The fear that settling in her belly is burning off as arousal in her loins.

“Fuck if you ain’t,” James says after a long burp. “It’s fine, though, cause I came here to steal you right back.”

Hearing this, Kendall rolls her eyes. James was, among his other many wonderful traits, a misogynist through and through. He wasn’t a television misogynist, either, who would sometimes put women down but otherwise treated them with some measure of respect. He was the type of man who expected her to serve him in every way and often treated her like a ****. Two years with him was more than enough, and even now, despite her arousal, she has no interest in returning to it.

James stares at her, through her, as he gulps the soda. Burping again, he wipes his mouth on the back of his big, beefy hand. “You think I’m fucking kidding? Come here!” Reaching out, he slaps her across the cheek. The blow is light compared to how he used to hit her, but even then it is enough to leave her unsteady. She stumbles sideways before catching herself on the nearby wall, and then stares at him with tears in her eyes and a burning in her cheek. James, meanwhile, laughs. “You always were a dumb bitch, rolling your fucking eyes at me, but you’ll learn your place. For now, get on your knees and rub my feet like you used to. You’ve got a lot of missed time to make up for.”

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-KotoC.