Chapter 1 - Violated Doll

"Sadistic, Sadistic, stimulate the sadist,

Sadistic, Sadistic, bury the sadist,

Sadistic, Sadistic, sever the masochist,

Sadistic, Sadistic, let's begin platonically."

-Filth-

"Put me down, you bastard!" I screamed at him, as he pinned me against my dirty bedroom wall.

"Hold on, I'm about to cum." He replied, ignoring my demand, ramming his genitalia inside me. Sitting on his stiff cock was like sitting on a fire hose, hard and uncomfortable.

"Can't you guess how excruciating this is, you stupid fuck?!" I yelled. Fighting against him would be of no use. I should have fought against him when he started touching me.

A few minutes later, awkward orgasm approached, and after it was finished he put me down on my soft bed. I reached into his jean pocket and grabbed my underwear, and quickly pulled it on under my mid length black skirt. I sat on my bed with my head in my hands, filled with dismal. Yet again, I felt so dirty.

"So..." He asked with a devilish gleam in his eyes, "Do you want me to unload in your mouth or should I just go flush it?"

Fresh anger overcame me, and I jumped off the bed and gave him a hard slap in the face. "You're such an asshole!"

He shrugged and left the room. I sat back on my bed and sighed, resting my head on the wall. I despised him so much.

His name is Damien and mine is Lilly, and he's my on again - off again boyfriend/sex fiend. We had met a few years ago and bonded powerfully, and we started dating shortly after. He had made me feel so good about myself, he gave me gifts, he told me that I was beautiful. I know that sounds so cliche, but it really would raise my moody self esteem. Then puberty hit him, and his body produced what must be an entire colony of hormones. It was like rabies, or another lethal mind altering disease. I quickly became his little prop.

In our "relationship", he's the sadist with the whip in one hand, and hungry, lusty eyes. I'm the helpless masochist, silently and subconsciously begging for pain. That is the bad fruit our relationship bears.

He came back into the room and sat on the bed next to me. "What are you scowling about now? Come on, wasn't it good enough for you?"

I stared at him, and we both locked eyes. "...Fuck off."

He shrugged again and looked at my bed, then gazed back at me. "What, so you don't love me anymore?"

"I don't think I do." I replied, shaking my head in disgust. "You piss me off and you make me feel like a slut. You have the idea you can come over whenever your cock feels like it and fuck the hell out of me."

"You know I love you, you mean the world to me baby." He told me with a serious tone in his voice, with a sudden sincerity in his eyes.

"You're a liar." I objected, clenching my small hands into fists. "You only love me until my panties are back on."

Silence.

"At least you 'loved' me enough to use a goddamn condom." I taunted, crossing my arms, refusing to look at him.

Damien silently looked around my dark room. He glanced back at me. "I do care about you..."

"What's with the sudden sensitivity? Just go. I don't want to see you anymore. I've done my time for today, playing your violated doll..."

He murmured something about coming over to visit tomorrow, and quietly left the house. I sighed in relief. He didn't rape me, I'm just too stupid to stop him. Unfortunately, I had been stuck in the trap of his uncontrollable sexuality for some time now...

I wasn't exactly certain how I felt about Damien, I cared for him, but I felt so used. I was happy with him, then disgusted, over and over again. It never did stop. At 5'11, he was pretty nice looking, with dark hair and light eyes. He wasn't gothic, but he had a sense of darkness that I found attractive.

Some people say love has a color, texture, and soul all of its own. If that saying holds any ounce of truth within it, our love was black, jagged, and rotting. Our love was grim.

--

Shortly after my damned lover left, I washed my face and stared at the reflection in the bathroom mirror. I perceived a young, pretty sixteen year old, depressed with reality, but still had a passion for a small amount of interests. She hated life, but adored the highly guarded existence she held inside her tired mind, where she could indulge in anything she desired, though the things were usually along the lines of dark and morbid.

I am a typical gothic lolita, named after one of my favourite flowers, and also the female vampire off an old television show, whom I adored. I love anything dark and childlike, for as I lived a bad, blocked out childhood I can not recall and I feel I must rebuild. I cherish my japanese music, whether it be the melodic, romantic voice of Gackt, or the ear shattering screams of a possessed Kyoka. I loved all of my beloved japanese rockers, and they truly inspired me.

I really wanted to become a writer. For years I would lock myself in my room and write continuously, and reap as many as five poetry ideas at once. I loved writing. It was like I had a literary star shining upon me. I also wanted to learn a multitude of musical instruments, I had a growing list of all the instruments I wanted to play. I just craved to spend my life being creative.

But with Damien around, everything, every dream I had built to last, falls. He has the manipulative power to virtually change my mind. I'll fall in love with something, and he will mystically make me hate it. When I was younger I wanted to grow up and become a mother, to have babies, but after his announcement of hating children, I quickly adapted that idea and it stuck. With my luck, he'll be impregnating me during one of our love deprived sex sessions. I love him but I want to kill him.

--

A/N: I was bored and I wanted to make something like an autobiography but something also different, so I decided to make a semi-autobiography, with reality and fantasy combined. It might sounds weird, but ehh, I don't care. So with it being a semi autobiographical story... some things in here are real... some things are not.. but I'll leave it up to you to guess which is and which isn't.

Tokiko