We were rooting around in my kitchen for a snack before the movie we planned to watch came on tv.
He opened the freezer. "What's this?," he asked as he pulled out an individually-packaged orange sorbet, the kind that comes inside an actual orange rind. "Did you buy this?," he laughed.
"No, someone brought it over for me a while ago," I said and turned away.
"Oh, D. brought it for you," he said, his face falling. D. is the man that I was seeing before I met Him. And he hates any reminder that anyone touched me before He owned me. "Never mind," he sighed as he tossed it back into the freezer.
He sulked over to the pantry. "See, you do have a case of bottled water here." I came over to look; I had forgotten it was there. "Did another boyfriend bring that over for you?," he joked with an edge in his voice.
"No," I said carefully.
"Good," he said and he turned toward me rapidly. His hand went to my throat and he pinned me against the wall next to the pantry. "Because you know that none of those boys -," he spit the word boys, "- could give it to you like I do."
I nodded in panic. "Yes, Sir."
"You know that no one could own you and hurt you just like you need, don't you?," he seethed as he tightened his grip on my neck.
"Yes, Sir," I whispered.
He let go and slowly patted my cheek. "Good," he smiled, "don't you forget it, sweetheart."