No Consent: The magazine

This is the rework of a self-published auto-biographical story (2008), rewritten for this blog. Names of characters have been changed.
Content warning: mental and physical abuse, misogyny.

Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in getting up every time we do.

The magazine
August 1994

Continued from… Sylvia (3)

2 August
The three of them had an unnatural relaxed evening. Sitting on te bed, the television on and the three of them chatting, Annie suddenly jumped up from where she sat next to Fran.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” she said, looking at Fred, who was under the covers in bed next to Fran, “I’ve got the book I told you about.”
“What book?”

Annie was gone already. She returned a couple of minutes later with a magazine in her hand, and she handed it to Fred.
“It’s the French magazine I told you about a week or two ago,” Annie replied to Fred’s question, which she had heard when she ran out of the room.

Seemingly uninterested, Fred paged through the sex magazine, keeping his face straight. He clearly remembered Annie telling him about it, and he also remembered he said he would like to see the magazine too. The sex magazines available in the local stores were all very modest, especially when you compare them to those available in Europe. Fred looked at each page, but not for too long. He wanted to create the impression that he was bored by what he saw. Fran glanced at the magazine too, but not too obvious. She didn’t turn her head, only her eyes. From the expression on her face, Annie could see she was fascinated.

However, Annie waited for Fred’s reaction. She wanted to know for sure he appreciated she brought him the magazine as she had promised.
“Where did you get this?” Fred asked calmly, but his tone was harsh.
“From a lieutenant in our office. He got it from a friend who was in France recently.”
“And this lieutenant… is it a man?”
“It is.”
Annie voice betrayed the her fear for Fred’s reaction.

Suddenly Fred was furious.
“How should I trust you if you come home with this kind of crap? Can you blame me if I get strange ideas about what might be happening in your offices?”
“But Fred…” Annie protested.
“Annie, do you know what men think of you when they show you something like this?” Fred asked sarcastically, and waved the magazine up in the air.
“Fred, you didn’t…” Annie tried again.

He didn’t wait for her to complete her sentence.
“They think you’re a slut. A big. Fat. Slut.”
“Fred, then why didn’t you, when I told you about the magazine, told me not to bring it home?” Annie could at last finish her sentence.

He was quiet, but only for a split second.
“I wanted to see if you would come to your senses. However, someone with such a poor upbringing as yours won’t ever be able to think sensibly. That’s why I say again: I will make you into someone I can be proud of,” Fred said harshly, with a mocking glow in his eyes.

Now Annie was angry too.
“There is nothing wrong with my rearing. And…”
“Nothing wrong with your rearing,” Fred scorned, “nothing wrong with your rearing! Annie, there is nothing right about your rearing. You are a slut. A fat whore. Go to you room!”

The tone of his voice told her Fred wouldn’t tolerate any resistance. Without saying goodnight to either of them, Annie turned around and went to her room.

She never saw or mentioned the magazine again.

To be continued… Relaxation and realization

© Rebel’s Notes

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