Okay guys. It's actually me this time, PseuDORK. I should be having a shower, or a lady wank, or maybe even putting more clothes on (There's no one in the house. I like walking around in a t-shirt and underwear, okay?) but I'm not. Instead, i'm going to give you something more to read; this is before my crappy college gives me some goddamn more coursework to do. Grrrr. This chapter is the last chapter written in Butters' POV.
The songs used are Only One by Yellowcard and Linger by The Cranberries. Lyrics are italisized (:

I'd woken up to sunshine, it spilled onto my face, like a reminder that I'd never feel that kind of warmth from Kenny. But I didn't let myself think on it, I never did. He'd gone already, which I was thankful for. Sometimes he stayed and was late for work, just to pull my ass apart and slap me around a bit. I decided I wouldn't go to work today; I wanted to have some fun. I'd pulled on my denim skirt and a pink shirt, I'd put my hair up in a ponytail and made my eyes up dramatically. No work, I'd skipped down to the park to play with some friends I'd made. But all too soon I was taking the trip back home, my steps heavy and my heart heavier.

"K-Kenny? Are you home?" I hate the way my voice sounds so weak and nervous, when seconds ago I'd been stealing a rare moment of laughter. I think I can hear him snuffling about upstairs, so I guess I have to climb them, ask him how work went, and wait for him to be done with me.

I find him easily enough and drop my bags.

"Kenny..? Are you okay?" For crying out loud, I sound like a pussy!
"Mhmm."
Do you want anything to eat or something?"
"Or something." Fuck. Why did I ask?
"Now?"
"Yeah, now."
"But-"

I'm cut off as he grabs me and shoves me against him; He's small but his hands are crushing me, and his greedy mouth sets my lips on fire- not from passion, but from the pain of having them almost-bleeding. It's hot, but it hurts. I can't tell if I'm whimpering in pain or pleasure. I resist the urge to cry out, to fuel him. But when he bites fiercly on my collar bone I have to say something, "K-Kenny, please... Not no-" His feral growl scares the crap outta me and I decide it's shut up and do, or moan and die time. He casts a hand down his body and I know what I have to do. He's 'taught' me all his places, and slaps me if I forget any one of them. I'm on form today, though, I just wish I could slow down the torture that I know is about to come. I'm at his crotch, begging him with my eyes, Not now, I silently plead, please, just let me go. I can't do this anym-

"Do it well, bitch." His voice is deep and husky and... fucking terrifying, "Your fucking spit is the only lube you're getting. Thirty seconds." Fuck, I know he means it. He means this more than the times he used to tell me he was sorry- Of course, he's not sorry anymore. I pull his greying boxers down and oblige- licking his cock and trying not to gag even at this small contact.

"Twenty" Shit

I force myself to put him all into my mouth, and I'm salivating with the effort- which will call in my favor later when he's- I have to force back a wince as I think fo what's to come. Fuck, he's yanking my hair so hard I wish I hadnt GOT any. Ouch.

"Ten" This is it

I have to shove him in me fully, down my throat even if I puke. It's making my eyes water, which is making it harder not to cry. I wish he was still sorry for this, I wish I could escape, but I never could, never can, and never will. I'm trapped in this. I'm trapped with him face-fucking me, ass-raping me and beating me to within an inch of my life. He's out of my mouth now, and I should be relieved only I know what's coming next.

With a quick flip my cute panda panties are on the floor and he's shoving himself inside me.I can't take the searing hot pain riding up my spine, I can feel my fingers scrabbling against his back, but I don't register that they're my fingers, that it's his back. All I can feel is... blood. Blood and the salty tears falling down my cheeks. I can feel a rumble of laughter coming from his chest, and I cry harder. Fuck. I won't collapse, I wo- Great. He's won. I'm propping myself up on his chest, singing Twinkle twinkle little star to distract myself from all of this, but it's not working. I can hear him muttering things to me, and they just make me worse. Little noises of pain escape my lips every now and then, and a larger one does when I feel his cum mingle with my blood.

I feel him sigh against me, pull himself out of me and kiss me gently; I feel it all, but none of it registers. I can hear him moving about downstairs, and the muffled sounds of the radio plays out.

Broken this fragile thing now
And I can't, I can't pick up the pieces
And I've thrown my words all around
But I can't, I can't give you a reason

I decide that the song is chance, and hate the fact that the lyrics are so apologetic, when the man listening to them is not. Ive got to drown them out with my own song- both Kenny and the radio- so I sing softly to myself, still in a pile on the bed.

"Im sure Im not being rude
But its just your attitude
Its tearing me apart
Its ruining everything"

I won't let him ruin me this time. Not fully. With a sigh I take off the rest of my clothing. And, wincing, I make my way to the bathroom, blood trickling down the back of my legs. It fucking hurts. Each time I tell myself I'll get used to it, and each time I tell myself that it's not as bad as the last time- that's only because it's worse. With effort that feels almost as bad as the 'sex' I reach up to turn the shower on and sing some more, letting the hot water wash away the filth.

"Oh, I thought the world of you
I thought nothing could go wrong
But I was wrong
I was wrong
If you, if you could get by
Trying not to lie
Things wouldnt be so confused
And I wouldnt feel so used
But you always really knew
I just wanna be with you"

With a whimper, I let myself sink into the bathtub, pain overcoming every limb, dispair painting my mind. I'll never escape this Hell, and Kenny will never stop being my Devil. I gather the last of my strength and punch the glass shower-guard, relishing the feel of blood seeping down my arm. The pain I caused. The pain he wouldn't, couldn't cause. I take a large peice and push down on my wrist, drawing it down my arm, whimpering and crying again.

Do you have to, do you have to let it linger?

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Righto. Both chapters. Both POVs. Butters abuse. I dont like it, but its fun to write.
Where will this fic lead? Fuck knows. Not even the authors have a proper plot xD But anyway.
RnR please.

-Kitty