Part 12

Part 12

Ava slowly waddled across the dirty floor with both sets of eyes following her. Her matronly hips swayed and pressed into the pink robe while her fat, swinging tits jiggled on her chest. She stood near the pram and stared down at the crying baby. At first, she didn't know what to do to assuage him. She had no motherly instincts!

But, as Ava looked down at him, more of her past changed and her head tingled. She remembered being pregnant at sixteen after a very messy, back-alley shag. She was able to hide it for a short time, but it wasn't long before her family found out. Ava was out on the street the very next day. The school told her not to return as well. Something about being a, "Corrupting, sinful influence." She was a homeless, penniless, pregnant teenager with no life skills and nowhere to go.

Ava shook her head and the memories seeped into the back of her mind. That life was behind her. She didn't need parents, money or an education. She only needed Roger. She owed him everything!

Ava looked down at her son. She'd heard his cries a thousand times before. He was just hungry. New knowledge, experience and habits formed and strengthened. She slipped the robe down her shoulders, exposing her breasts, just as she had done so many times before. Her hard nipples poked out. They were long, thick and looked exactly like the teat of a baby bottle. They were perfectly evolved for the mouth of a newborn

She winced as a sudden pressure pushed from her breasts and they began slowly dripping milk.

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1qMUb71pc8ryaC8Rld6htEv0_QTR6SVU-/view?usp=drive_link

She reached into the pram and hoisted her baby boy. Ava's brain was assaulted by more changes. Roger Jr. looked up and recognized his mum. His crying immediately ceased, and a cute smile crossed his face. He had big, innocent, blue eyes, just like his mommy.

Ava lifted Jr. to her nipple and he latched immediately.

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1oySzhSQ6CdbtjQ7QBJjCL5GtflnkN6Rq/view?usp=drive_link

A strong wave of emotion overtook Ava as she watched her son breastfeed. She sniffled and stared down through bleary eyes. She felt like her ability to breastfeed was both beautifully natural and alarmingly unnatural. She didn't know what was wrong with her, but it was like she was being pulled in opposite directions.

Roger cleared his throat, and called her from across the room, "Ain't ye' forgettin' sumfin'', [i]slag?[/i]"

Ava lifted her gaze from the suckling infant and remembered: Roger's tea! Ava didn't particularly enjoy being called a cunt, but she really should have known better than to forget the tea! Ava smiled and began slowly waddling back to the counter, holding Jr. on her arm which she rested on her protruding belly.

She directed her high pitched, sweet voice to her husband, "'M sorry, Rog, I ge' lost in me own 'ead sometimes."

Roger shook his head, "Can't say I blame ye' gettin' lost, what wif all de' empty space in yer 'ead."

Ava giggled and felt relieved. At least Roger wasn't mad! He was so understanding and sweet! She was such a lucky girl!

Ava shuffled past Tom and felt his eyes following her swaying ass. She poured boiling water from the kettle into the tea cups using one hand. She spilled a few drops in the process, but for a woman actively breastfeeding a baby, it was quite the accomplishment! She dropped tea bags into the cups.

Ava used her free hand to grab both cups and carefully carried them to the table. She placed one in front of each man.

Tom grabbed his cup and nodded thanks before commenting, "It smells great, Mrs. Davies! You seem pretty proficient with multitasking. Though, I guess most women are, aren't they? Won't you be joining us?"

Ava turned to Roger. She only wanted to sit if he gave her permission. Roger took his cup and nodded towards the last chair. The chair was shorter and weaker than the others. Ava grinned and carefully squatted down, making sure to keep Jr. safe. The chair creaked as she adjusted her ass and swiped her long, greasy, blonde hair behind her shoulders. Her already small stature was diminished even further while seated, especially in the shorter chair. She felt so tiny! But that was okay, she [i]was[/i] so tiny! Ava swapped Jr. to her other breast.

Ava sat with her legs open. It was her default sitting position. Her robe opened, and her bare, pink pussy caught Tom's stare as he sipped from his cup. Having a relatively unknown man ogling her naked snatch would have bothered Ava a few minutes ago; but the humming in her brain, and her new memories, had diminished any desire for modesty.

Roger gulped his tea. He was starting to look annoyed, "Don't mind me wife's tits 'angin out, she don' gett'a choose when 'e's 'ungry." Roger turned to Ava and pointed at her while scolding, "Oi, [i]slag[/i], close dem fookin' gams, 'e dun' wanna see yer muff!"

Ava quickly complied with her husbands orders and tightened her thighs together. Another habit changed. When she wasn't focused on it, her default sitting position was one with her legs together. She remembered one of her primary school teachers scolding her for sitting "Like a boy". Ava had to stay after class and write the line, "I will learn to sit like a proper girl." one hundred times. She didn't sit 'Like a boy' ever again. Besides, she didn't have anything to leave room for between her legs, why would she need to sit like a man?

Tom took a drink and licked his lips, "It's no problem, Roger, this is her home too, after all. She can be as open as she wants!"

Roger crashed his cup to the table causing Ava to fidget uncomfortably. She could see his angry side peeking out, "Now, look 'ere. I own everyfing' an' [i]everybody[/i] in dis flat. She ain't got nuffin' wifout me. Oh, and don't fink I ain't noticed you starin' at me wifes fat fookin' arse."

Tom could also see that Roger's temper was rising. He carefully placed his cup down and stood. His voice was flat and non-contentious, "I can see I've overstayed my welcome. Thank you for the tea. It was very nice to meet both of you."

Tom adjusted his gun belt and moved towards the door. He opened it, but stopped in the threshold. He turned and looked past Roger. Ava shrank into her chair, wishing Tom would just leave.

"Ava," Tom began, "Please come with me. I can get you out of here and away from [i]him[/i]. No matter how hard or impossible it may seem, I can get you and your son safe. [i]Look at what he's done to you[/i]."

Ava was mortified. She turned her head to Roger who was clenching his fists into tight balls and gritting his teeth. If Tom wasn't a police officer, Roger would have already have attacked him.

As Ava watched her husband's temper flaring, bad memories seeped into her brain. Roger was normally such a sweetheart, but every once in awhile he would snap and...lose sight of himself. He would get very jealous and suspicious at even the smallest things. Ava remembered just a few days ago, when Roger was having a particularly bad day.

She was trying on a pair of pretty pink sandals while on a trip to the mall. A young man that Ava didn't know stopped and told her that he thought she was pretty. Ava froze, and didn't know what to say. She blushed and weakly responded with, "Thanks." The young man smiled, and walked away. She could feel Roger's icy stare from across the aisle.

When they returned to the flat, Ava knew Roger was beyond angry. She tried to calm him down and apologize, but he had to, "Reassert who the only man in her life was." He started by pushing her into a wall and berating her. Telling her she was a disgusting cow, a slag that nobody but him could ever love. When she begged, on her knees, for him to stop, Roger responded by punching her twice in the side of the face with a closed fist. Ava curled up into a ball and sobbed. The entire left side of her face, including her eye, were bruised, swollen and burning with pain. It was the latest lesson, in a series of increasingly harsh lessons, she'd been learning as the relationship progressed.

Ava's mind was buzzing as she remembered other instances of violence. With her history of abuse becoming more and more seeded, her brain began providing Roger with excuses. Money was tight, she shouldn't have been looking at shoes in the first place. She shouldn't have worn such a skimpy blouse. She should've told the man that she was already claimed. What did she expect to happen? Did she think there would be no consequences to openly flirting with other men like that?

Hours later, as Ava held a bag of frozen peas to her swollen eye, she remembered realizing she had to be better. She had to stop forcing the man that loved her into disciplining her. A large, partially healed bruise formed on Ava's left cheek and her eye swelled up. Various other bruises and scars appeared across her body, each with its own story. Ava's self worth and emotional fortitude was almost completely depleted. Her dependence and attachment to Roger deepened further.

Ava snapped out of her daze and looked up at Tom who was still watching her, expecting a response. Her eyes flicked to Roger who was breathing heavily and barring his teeth at her. Tears were forming in her swollen eyes. Didn't Tom know he was only making everything worse!

Roger yelled, his voice echoed in the flat while Ava trembled, "She ain't goin' nowhere! She's a clueless, little fookin' tramp wifout me! You 'ave some fookin' nerve tryin' ta' trick me wife and take me son!" Roger turned to Ava and screamed down at her, "Tell 'im, [i]bitch[/i]! Tell 'im you don' need a fookin' fing from 'im!"

When She responded, Ava's weak voice was little more than a high pitched whisper, "W-We're fine, officer. Rog keeps me an' 'is son safe 'n 'appy..."

Tom's face darkened and he sighed, "Please, Ava. I can see the scars all over you. You're so young, honey, and there are so many men that would treat you like a [i]partner[/i] instead of a [i]possession[/i]."

Ava kept her head down and stayed quiet. She carefully pulled Jr. from her breast. She replaced her robe and began burping him over her shoulder. She wished Tom would just leave them alone.

When it was clear Ava wouldn't be responding, Roger stomped towards the entrance and slammed the door shut as he screamed, "Ge' tha' fook out me flat!"

Ava stood and dashed to the pram, her wet breasts slapped against her belly. She gently placed Jr. down. Ava didn't want him in her arms for what was about to happen. She turned to Roger who glared at her from across the room with anger on his face and hatred in his eyes. Icy fear swirled in Ava's belly and she tightly wrapped her arms around herself.

Roger pointed his finger and berated Ava, "Don't fink I din' see you shakin' yer ass an' flashin' yer minge to the cop!"

Ava bowed her head and muttered, "Rog, I din' mean ta do it! Me robe opened an' 'e was sittin righ where-"

"Save yer fookin' lies, [i]cunt[/i]. As if 'e would be interested in an ugly prossie like you. I'm the only fookin' man in th' 'hole worl' that'd marry a worfless, brainless 'ore like you. Ye' even frew away me secret stash a' crystal! Where d'you fink we gonna get th' dosh fer more?"

Ava kept her gaze on the floor while tears streamed down her bruised cheeks. She slowly nodded her head and agreed. Years of physical violence, emotional exploitation, verbal ridicule and sexual debasement surged into her head.

Hard years of heavy drug use took their toll. She had become physically dependent on the methamphetamine that only Roger provided. Her eyes had the shifty desperation of an addict. She was still young enough that the usual indicators of abuse were mild, but, they were becoming more obvious. Her cheeks became slightly sallow and bags appeared under her eyes. Small sores dotted her face. Ava's general hygiene took a nosedive and her beautiful, long blonde hair darkened and became a greasy, stringy mess. She ran her fingers through it and noticed that her hair felt lifeless and damaged, just like her.

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1_WGUs096nVMxAsEdiYnfsWQoCiHFYPtK/view?usp=drive_link

Her perfect white teeth shifted and yellowed from years of neglect. Her already heavy makeup thickened, attempting to cover the sores. Small, black hairs grew in her armpits, on her upper lip, inside her ass and on her legs. Her pubic hair thickened into a wiry jungle. She no longer had the motivation to keep her body hair under control. Ava's acrylic nails disappeared and her natural nails became long, dirty and yellow. Ava's toenails followed suit, losing their French tip and becoming dirty and yellow. Cheap and horribly chipped polish filled in parts of her nails, but it served only to further emphasize their disgusting, lazy appearance. Her perfect thunder thighs became pockmarked with cellulite and her whole body grew a layer of fat. A tiny double chin sagged under her face. Stretch marks pulled across her pregnant belly and her pussy loosened. The strong stench of BO emanated from Ava, but she was used to it and it didn't bother her in the slightest.

The transformed Ava looked perfectly suited for both Roger and the apartment.

She choked through tears, her voice slightly lower pitched, "'M sorry, Rog, Please, I'll do anyfing!"

Roger rolled his sleeves up and pointed to the floor of the kitchen, "Get on the floor an' open them legs if y'want some a' me secret [i]secret[/i] stash. Yer gonna haft'a earn it."

Ava wiped her tears and grinned. Roger was the best! She threw off her stained, faded pink robe and laid her back onto the floor. The floor was filthy! Ava just giggled, there was a small stream of ants a few feet away, slowly collecting a long forgotten slice of pizza. She rubbed her back against the grease covered floor, anchoring herself for a brutal session of fucking. her stringy hair collected crumbs as she did. Roger stood above Ava and looked down at her. She raised her arms above her head, showing her sweaty, hairy pits. She flashed him a crooked, yellow smile, while her double chin puffed out. Roger kneeled down and parted Ava's pockmarked, cellulite thighs. A smelly wave of congealed body odor mixed with hot, fish scented, feminine arousal blasted him. He grinned and wrapped his hands around his wife's soft hips. He eyed her hairy muff and, dripping, loose cunt.

"Already up de' duff an' still begging fer me knob? Me wife 'as the wettest, 'ungriest minge I ever saw. Could you be anymore of a 'oman? You really mus' be a right fookin' slag, huh?"

Ava curled up her dirty, yellow toenails and excitedly nodded, "'M your fookin' slag Rog!"

Roger pulled his gray sweatpants down to his knees and positioned his hard cock at the entrance to his wife's cunt.

'Then let em' know. Let em' know you's me fooking slag. I want em' to 'ear yer girly screamin'!'

As Roger's cock split his pregnant, teenage, drug addict, wife's sopping labia, and she squealed in feminine glee, Adam Mark Bonatz was totally gone. Ava had completely forgotten Adam Mark Bonatz ever existed. She had always been, and would always be Ava Marie Davies.