Her Bully Stepbrothers

ASHLEY

“What the fuck?” Axel yelled and I felt my heart drop to the pit of my stomach.

“Are you trying to kill us?” It was Brody who spoke next and his voice was just as angry as Axel’s.

I just finished preparing dinner and I was serving it to them. I was tired and drained from working nonstop for over five hours. I just wanted to rest.

“It’s not… I don’t understand what… ouch,” my words trailed off into a yelp when Axel angrily threw his bowl of soup at me.

It landed on my chest and it was hot and scalding. It was so painful that I felt tears pool in my eyes and I could feel my skin peeling. I bit my lower lip to keep myself from screaming out loud because if I did, they’d know how much pain it was causing me and they’d throw more at me.

“God! You’re such a dunce,” Axel continued angrily, “you can’t even prepare proper food! Your whore of a mother didn’t teach you how to, right?”

His voice was laced with so much venom and he looked really murderous that it seemed like it was taking all of his self-restraint not to leap up from the chair and choke the life out of me.

“Right? I’m sure the only thing she’s teaching you is how to open your legs for men. Except no man in his right thinking senses will take a second look at you.”

His words were like blows to me, to my self-esteem. This wasn’t the first time they’d called me ugly and undesirable. They were the reason why I believed I was ugly and no guy would like me. And so far, they’ve been right.

“I’m sorry, I’m going to throw this away and prepare another one.”

“Of course, you will,” Brody spat angrily, “you’ve had a taste of wealth so you can waste food now.”

“No, I mean… I’m sorry.”

“You’ll be when we’re done with you. Now sit down.”

Axel angrily pushed me to the floor and the three of them dumped their food in front of me.

“Now, you’re going to eat and lick every single drop and you won’t be leaving here until you’ve finished everything.”

“What? But I…”

A slap from Axel cut me off, “get started! By the time you burst from eating all these, you’ll learn how to prepare a proper meal.”

The food was a lot and because I don’t eat that much, it was the quantity I’d eat in at least three days and now, they want me to finish it in one sitting.

That’s not going to be possible. I was going to choke and burst and…

“Do you want to be caned into eating it? Maybe we should get the whips. You must have enjoyed it the last time we used them on you.”

“No no no,” the memory of the whips brought fresh tears into my eyes, “I’m going to eat now.”

“Good!”

I started eating. There was nothing wrong with the food. I knew the boys just derive pleasure in making my life a living hell so they lied that the food was bad so they could punish me again.

I had not even eaten 10% of everything when I was already satisfied and I could feel my tummy bloating. There was nowhere to push the food to again but I kept eating and eating and eating.

Because I knew what they could do to me if I didn’t.

“You have less than 5 minutes more to finish eating everything.”

“Please,” I choked on a sob, “I can’t… I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do you want the food to waste? When you and your mother were measly beggars, you’d have danced if someone dashed you this but now, you want us to throw it away?”

“No… I mean…”

“3 minutes more and if there’s a single grain left afterward, then we’d have to bring out your favorite whips.”

“No please, I will…” I continued eating, with tears streaming down my face and mucus in my nose. It was too much for me, being treated like this.

And sometimes, I disliked Mom for marrying their father. Maybe the boys were justified in their hatred because after all, my mom’s affair with their father when she was just the head maid drove their mother to suicide.

So maybe they really deserve to hate me and make my life a living hell.

Finally, I finished eating and I was so full and bloated.

“Good!” The boys pushed away from me, a glint of satisfaction in their eyes with the exception of Carson.

I couldn’t decipher his expression just like I’ve never been able to decipher his expressions whenever he and his brothers were making my life a living hell.

But I knew for sure that it wasn’t pity or guilt. He has been the architect of many creative ways in which they’ve punished me.

“Now, fix yourself up and get our clothes ready for school tomorrow,” Brody commanded and again, the practically stepped on me to walk away. Carson was the last and he seemed to hesitate before walking away.

Immediately they were out of sight, I dashed to my room, ran to the toilet, and threw up every single thing they just forced me to eat.

By the time I was done, I was so tired and drained that I collapsed on the floor and that was the last thing I remembered.