Allison sat naked in the dark basement. She was stripped of everything that made her who she was, or near enough. Her hair remained on her head, but her heels, plug, collar, and her family were denied her. Not that she deserved any of them. She didn’t. She never did for no matter how hard she tried, she was never good enough. She still couldn’t believe that she hadn’t learned that lesson. And yet, he never gave up on her. He should have so many times. In truth, she deserved to be dumped naked on the side of the road, not in the basement. She needed to be ignored and unused, not in pain with her nose still bleeding.

And yet, here she was. No sound in the quiet basement, no light, no distractions. Normally her thoughts would have driven her even more insane than usual, but her mind was silent. No stray or errant thoughts, just reflection on why she was here. Why she had been punished.

The why of it was simple. She had heard the phrase before. A cunt brain. That’s what she had. Not all women had it, probably not even most. But she had one. One that whispered and lied and needed attention. It was selfish, hateful, and weak. She despised her mind. But with a single blow, he had taken away the noise. In his fury, he might have taken an IQ point or two as well. He’d left her dizzy and throwing up afterward. The light had hurt her eyes, part of the reason she was in the dark. Part of the reason. Her nose and lips had stopped bleeding hours ago, but a sneeze had started her nose dripping red anew. She couldn’t see it but she felt it and tasted it. She knew she looked beautiful. Raw red marks on her skin were turning into deep blues and blacks, and in the morning she would look very different from just an hour or two ago.

And she was lucky. Lucky enough that he cared to hurt her, give her what she needed, to correct her bad thoughts. Some would call it abuse, but the only abuse would be him accepting her actions and letting her run rampant. What else are you to do when you come home to find your wife neglecting the kids and fucking around with strange men? They always glamorize hypersexuality, how it’s hot to have a woman who is insane with the need for sex and use. It’s not sexy, it’s a crippling addiction, an illness, but one she hadn’t even tried to control. She had fed it, savored it, and drowned in the crazy that was in her brain.

That wasn’t what was unforgivable to her. She had been broken for a long, long time. Longer than most thought. No, the worst was that she had put her needs before his and the children. Endangered the kids by neglect, endangered their marriage and love by selfishness. One call. One call was all she needed. Instead, she had let strangers abuse and degrade her, and she hadn’t even worried about those around her. All she craved was attention, the one thing she’d be trained for above all else. And she had gotten it.

Only after several men had used her had she called. Only after had she checked on the kids. Everyone was safe, but that was no excuse. And when he had gotten home, she had watched his fists clench. Rage, rarely seen, had coiled in his eyes. And then, when she was done, he waited over a minute before saying or doing anything. That was the worst. The worst was nothing. Nothing meant no more love. Nothing meant rejection. Nothing meant alone with the voices in her head.