Lara Cinta

Madison

“Cheating isn’t always physical. If you’re having to hide it, you probably shouldn’t be doing it.” (Unknown).

For as long as I can remember, I’ve always wanted a family, and that dream might soon come true. Gustaf, my boyfriend, has been sneaking around lately, and I think it’s because he is about to propose! He has made strange phone calls, and when I grabbed his phone yesterday, he quickly snatched it back, probably because he is making wedding plans on it!

I wake up with a smile, feeling all excited when Gustaf’s alarm goes off at six o’clock in the morning on a normal Saturday. It’s singing the tune of Lady Gaga’s Bad Romance, and even though I’m thrilled to start our weekend together, the song is beginning to give me a headache.

“Babe...” I whine in a tired voice as I desperately try to reach for the phone to turn off the terrorizing alarm. “It’s time to get up.”

Gustaf groans and flips around, hiding his face in the pillows. “Five more minutes...”

I snort and am about to put down his phone, but something compels me to press on the messenger bubble. It leads to a group conversation called, “My slut of a wife—VIP subscribers chat,” and I can feel the oxygen leaving my lungs.

What the fuck is this?

As my eyes scan the contents of the chat, I finally realize what I am looking at.

You’ve got to be shitting me!

It’s a private group for fans of “my slut of a wife,” which is a role I am starring in without knowing. Every single GIF in the chat is of me naked, and there are even some videos of Gustaf spanking me in our bed—I had no idea he filmed us having sex! So this is what he has been hiding from me and why he never lets me look at his phone even to check the time!

My cheeks grow hot as I continue reading, my blood boiling.

Fred the wanker: I’m sure you’ve heard the news, but I will say it again: The man who is starring with Madison is actually her boyfriend. It’s so juicy!”

My heart flatlines as I read the other comments.

Bob: You think this hoe has sex with other people? I would love to tap that ass.

Jimmy: You could ask the husband. I can tell the wife is a slut just by looking at her having sex. Those moans? Fuck me, she is more vocal than the prostitutes working downtown. I bet she would be down to fuck someone else.

Freddy: Does she know that her husband is sharing these videos lol?

Jimmy: Does it look like he cares?

Freddy: No, LOL! And besides, I need Slut wife in my life. I came so hard jerking off to her jiggle tits yesterday. Best video ever. You should fuck her more often without a bra.

I can’t breathe. I feel dizzy, and my heart is beating so fast that I think I am going to have a heart attack. I stumble out of bed and into the hallway.

No, no, no, this can’t be happening to me. How could Gustaf do this to me? I trusted him!

I stumble into the kitchen, tears streaming down my face like molten lava—hot trails of pain that scorches my cheeks. My throat is thick with emotion and I can’t draw a single breath.

With trembling hands, I grab a glass of water and chug it down while standing over the sink, trying to calm myself down. But the images and words from the chat replay in my mind over and over again, like a never-ending nightmare.

I feel violated, betrayed, and humiliated.

How could Gustaf film me without my consent? How could he share these intimate moments with strangers? And worst of all, how could he label me as his slut?

I’ve been his girlfriend for over four years now, and he treats me like trash.

This is...so...horrible...

I’m not even sure if there are words to describe how I feel. I can’t stand how violated I am, and I wish I could just crawl into a hole and disappear.

“Madison?” I hear Gustaf call from our room, and I use whatever energy I have left to just walk into the hallway and get the hell out of the apartment.

Sadly, I never make it very far.

A hand grabs mine and pulls me back inside the hallway. I crash into Gustaf’s chest, and he growls. “What the fuck, Madison? Why did you ignore me when I called your name? And where are you going?!”

Tears prickle behind my eyelids, and I mumble. “Y-you’re hurting me.”

Gustaf still doesn’t let go of my arms. “Answer. The. Fucking. Question.”

I lift my face to his. “I was going out.”

“Why?”

My lips tremble. “B-because it’s nice weather outside?”

“Liar, you saw the phone, didn’t you?” There is a wicked gleam in his eye right now, and a malicious smile spreads over his lips. “The slut chat was open, and I believe you’re the one who looked at it.”

Before I can answer, he closes the door and pushes me into the wall, pinning me there with his lower body. There is a fat bulge in his pants, and he laughs above me.

“So, did it turn you on to see all those men lusting over you, Madison? I bet it did. You’ve always sought attention—you’re even doing it now by wearing that v-shirt.”

My eyes water. “No, it did not turn me on!”

“I don’t believe you,” Gustaf laughs and presses me harder against the wall and cups my chin with one hand to then angle it to force me to look at him. “I think you were wet and horny when you saw that chat of men, which is okay, Madison. You don’t have to hide how you feel because if you are in on this, it will make my life so much easier. We can start planning live shows for you and drag in so much money.”

“Live shows?” I choke.

He doesn’t even notice that he is squeezing my wrists so hard that it stings.

Gustaf just continues. “Yes, I have a lot of fans. I could be the next Hugh Hefner, the next porn star. But of course, we will start with you. You already have a good body, and you’re a slut, so this is a match made in heaven. This will be your retirement plan. You’re going to do whatever I say, and if you criticize it, I will make your life a living hell. Got it?”

Oh my god, he is actually crazy.

“I-I’m not in on this! And I’m not a slut!”

“Don’t you lie to me, Madison! You want to be my slut.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Now that you’re a video star, you want to be a real-life porn star, don’t you? Think of all the money. Imagine how many people you can fuck, Madison.”

Tears fall from my eyes. “I don’t want to be a porn star! And I am not your slut!”

He laughs at me. “No? Did you, or did you not have the best orgasm of your life when I called you my little slut in bed?”

My eyes widen. “But that was only between us! We were role-playing in bed, Gustaf! I don’t want this in real life!”

“Well, I do.”

I shake my head. “No, Gustaf, please. Don’t do this to me. Please delete those GIFS and the videos and let’s just forget this ever happened. Please!”

"No can do, Madison," he murmurs. “I’m earning too much money to stop this now.”

I clench my eyes shut, not wanting to see what is going on right now. “If you keep blackmailing me, I-I will call the cops.”

“And say what? That your boyfriend is an asshole? Because in the videos, it looks like you’re very much into it.”

My head starts spinning. “Please, Gustaf. Stop this. I’m begging you...”

“You’re begging? Good. Now beg for my cock,” he whispers in my ear.

“Gustaf, please. Don’t do this. I’m not in on it, I swear!”

“Don’t you lie to me, Madison. You—” Gustaf trails off to the sound of his phone ringing. He glances over his shoulder and then makes a “Tssk” sound before releasing me. “I will be right back. Stay where you are.”

I give him a nod, but as soon as he is in the other room, I bolt out through the door.

It doesn’t matter that I haven’t packed anything. Everything inside the apartment reminds me of Gustaf, and I want nothing to do with him. I want to go incognito and tap my brother’s number into my phone while racing down the stairs.

My brother Stanley and I are close, but our relationship has suffered since he doesn’t like Gustaf. But now, I need him more than ever. Stanley and I might not have talked in forever, but if I want to move and start over, he is the answer.

Stanley’s best friend, and my childhood crush, is none other than Victor Giovanni. I haven’t seen him in years, but I’ve now sunk so low I might have to ask Stanley to ask him if he needs a private chef or something.

It might be desperate, but I need to get out of here!

I call my brother, and he answers immediately.

“Hey, Mads, I was wondering when you would call me again,” Stanley says, sounding happy.

I can’t keep the tears from coming. I’m walking quickly away from the apartment, afraid that Gustaf might come for me at any moment. “Stan...I need your help.”

There is silence for a while before he growls. “What the fuck did that bastard do? It’s Gustaf, right?!”

I take a deep breath and enter another apartment building for shelter. “Yes, and I need a place to escape to. I need somewhere to go.”

“You can come here,” Stanley says in a soft tone. “Are you crying?”

“Yes…” I don’t even bother to deny it. “Gustaf is terrible, but I will tell you more about that later. I would love to go there, but I don’t have any money or a car,” I cry louder and laugh at how pathetic I am. “Shit, I can’t stop crying. This is so embarrassing and so not me. I don’t react like this. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.”

I nod even though he can’t see me. “I have to get away from Gustaf. He is a piece of shit and fucking crazy.”

“Glad we both agree on that,” Stanley says in a dry tone. “And I will see if I can have someone pick you up. Just go and sit at a coffee shop meanwhile, and I will call you back, okay?”

“Okay,” I smile despite the situation. “You’re the best.”

“I know,” I can hear his smile through the speaker. “I’m the best brother there is, and I will take care of you, Mads. A couple of phone calls and I’m sure I can even offer you a new job in the big city.”

“Really?”

“Yes, but...you would have to work as a chef for Victor. I’m so sorry, Mads, but he is the only person I know with an insane amount of wealth. I’m sure he would hire you, though, especially if I explain to him what happened.”

I laugh. “You don’t even know what happened.”

“I know that your ex-boyfriend is an asshole, and that’s all I need to know, okay?”

“Okay.”

“By the way, does Gustaf know that you left?” Stan asks me.

“No,” I’m fleeing from him. “And I don’t want to confront him about it, or he might not even let me leave. He is crazy.”

“What did he do?”

“I will tell you about it later. Just get me out of here, please.”

“Alright, alright, I will fix a ride for you, but once you’re here, we will discuss this in private, okay? I need to know what he did.”

“Yes, I will tell you everything.”

“Good, now stay safe.”

“I will.”

We both hang up, and I decide to go to a coffee shop so that I can get myself together. But the memory of what Gustaf said keeps haunting me, and remembering his face when he said I was a slut sends a tremor through me.

My ex-boyfriend is crazy.