Based loosely on a true story.

IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: This story does NOT promote anorexia or any eating disorder. Please do not read if you're easily triggered. Thank you,

-Mae

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Ian Matthews was my biggest secret.

He was a nice guy. Or so I thought.

Ian treated my mother like a princess. When he came into her life, I was happy. Mom deserved someone like that after my deadbeat father.

But my opinion of him changed after they got married.

It started out great. He moved us into a large house that we would have never been able to afford without him. Ian was wealthy, and my mother liked that. After her divorce from my father, we could hardly get by. So when Ian showed up in his shiny Mercedes Benz, my mother jumped at the chance.

I didn't think she ever loved him. She just wanted his money. Mom might seem like a golddigger, but she had good intentions. She wanted to provide what she thought was a better life for me--a comfortable life with expensive shoes and designer handbags.

Little did she know that I was perfectly content in the cozy trailer she raised me in.

Ian was charming. I could see how he won my mother's heart, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't the least bit attracted to him. He was ten years younger than mom and the CEO of a large company, with lean muscles and a chiseled jaw line. Now, I have to put out a disclaimer and say that I do not have a crush on my stepfather. But he was objectively handsome--the type of guy who would end up on the cover a magazine. There was no use in lying to myself about that.

My mom might have been older than him, but she was as beautiful as he was handsome. She aged gracefully, with hardly a wrinkle on her face. With long dark tresses, porcelain skin, piercing blue eyes, and the perfect thin frame, she was quite a catch. The perfect trophy wife for Ian.

I might have gotten my mother's hair, skin, and eyes, but I did not inherit her figure.

I wasn't fat, but I wasn't skinny either. Despite my mother's best attempts at buying me healthy food and encouraging me to exercise, I stayed my chubby self.

I blamed the antidepressants I was on.

However, it never bothered me too much. Until that night.

My mom got a job as a medical assistant at a nearby hospital, and she just so happened to be on call. We were able to eat dinner together, but then my mom's phone rang.

It was work.

So for the first time in the two months that they were married, Ian and I were left alone.

"Want some ice cream?" Ian asked me. I shrugged. It was strawberry ice cream-the only flavor of ice cream I liked-so I said yes.

Ian snickered.

"Of course you do, piggy."

What was that supposed to mean? Did he just call me fat?

It caught me off guard. So I just stared at him with my mouth agape.

He finished getting himself ice cream, but he didn't get me a bowl. Instead he put the carton away and sat down.

"Um, where's my ice cream?" I asked him awkwardly.

He laughed at me, but it wasn't the charming laugh I was used to. Instead it sounded like he was mocking me.

"You think I'm going to let you eat ice cream with that figure?"

My mouth dropped open again and I realized he was dead serious. I stood up and huffed.

"Fine, I'll get some myself, you jackass," I hissed. I didn't curse often, but I was livid, and he deserved it. What kind of stepfather blatantly called his stepdaughter fat?

"Sit down," his cold voice demanded. I turned to him in indignation. His tone was so different from the warm and sincere one he usually used.

"Who do you think you are?"

"I think I'm your stepfather, and you will show me some respect," he clipped, not even bothering to look up at me.

"Like hell I will!"

That was when I truly caught his attention. He stared at me with dead eyes, a dangerous glint in them.

"I said sit down," Ian ordered. I just shook me head.

Suddenly I heard the scrape of his chair as he stood up, and he made his way over to me in record speed, his hand wrapping around my wrist.

He grip was tight, and it progressively got stronger. I winced, and that egged him on.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" he laughed.

I didn't answer. He squeezed harder.

"Doesn't it?" he repeated himself.

This time I nodded my head, and Ian laughed louder.

He pushed me back into my seat and then went to sit back down.

"Now stay," he commanded me like I was a dog, and for some reason, I listened like the pathetic person I was.

I watched as he ate silently and checked his phone. I really wanted some ice cream. Ian no longer payed me any attention, and I wondered why I was still sitting there, obeying him.

Realizing that, I stood up and bolted towards my room, planning to lock myself in there until mom returned home, but Ian was fast. Faster than I was.

He reached out for my ponytail and yanked it back. I yelped in pain.

"What do you think you're doing little girl?" he asked me. I tried move, but he just yanked harder. "You think you can disobey me and get away with it?"

I stayed silent.

"Apologize to me," he demanded. I didn't respond.

He chuckled darkly sending shivers down my spine.

"Fine," he spat, "you want to play that way?"

His hand still on my ponytail, he dragged me down the hallway and shoved me into the bathroom.

"On your knees," he commanded. I didn't listen, so he pushed me to ground. Facing the toilet, he held my head over it.

"What are you doing," I yelled, trying to refrain from crying.

Who was this person?

"I'm teaching you how to purge," he responded in a dangerously calm voice. "It's punishment for disobeying me."

"Purge?" I responded, confused. Why was he forcing me to throw up?

"You deserve it too. You know how many calories were in that spaghetti? It's like your asking to be fat."

"But mom made it for us. I couldn't say no," I whimpered in pain.

Ian scoffed. "Are you daft? Of course you could have said no; there are ways around eating, Danielle. You could have at least played the stomachache card you idiot."

"But I wanted spaghetti..." I whispered.

"Fucking fat ass," he snarled, pushing my head back over the toilet. "You have such a pretty face; it's a shame your hideous body doesn't match it."

"Hideous?" I choked, tears starting to form. How could someone be so cruel?

Yanking me up by my hair, we stood in front of the mirror.

"Strip," he ordered.

"What?" I gasped.

"God, are you deaf? I told you to strip."

"This is sexual harassment," I cried.

"There's nothing sexual about this. You think I want someone as disgusting as you? I'm telling you to strip so you can see for yourself how gross your body is. So strip."

I stopped fighting and listened to him. Ian watched diligently as I took off my blouse, and then my jeans. I left my undergarments on, and thank God he didn't ask me to remove them. I watched in the mirror as his eyes roved over my body, judging me. Tears of rage streamed down my face as the humiliation continued. I felt degraded. I had never once been this embarrassed before in my entire life, let alone by someone who was supposed to be a parent to me.

"Look how flabby you are," he tsked, his hand making its way to my stomach. I flinched as his frigid hand made contact with my body. "Your stomach is huge." He pinched the fat there, his hand then traveling up to my waist.

"There is hope for you though," he smiled evily. I gulped. "Beneath it all, you do have an hour glass figure. If we could just get rid of all this fat, you could actually be attractive. Wouldn't you like that?"

I didn't respond. I just stared at him in our reflection with hurt eyes. Why was he doing this to me? What did he want?

Reading my mind, he answered me. Leaning towards my ear, Ian whispered "I want to make you beautiful."

I flinched, causing Ian to chuckle. His arms snaked around my naked body as he kissed my cheek.

"Don't you want that? What girl doesn't want to be thin and beautiful like a doll?"

"I'll tell mom," I spoke up, my voice unsteady.

That just caused Ian to laugh even harder.

"Oh, so you want to snitch, fatty?" he chuckled. "It'd be a shame if something were to happen to you if you did. Or even worse, your mother."

My eyes widened in shock as he threatened her. "But she's your wife!" I gasped.

Ian rolled his eyes. "Chill, nothing will happen to her as long as you play by my rules," he told me. "Nod so I know you understand."

I nodded.

"Great, now back to business," he replied, pushing me back on the ground. He grabbed my ponytail again, yanking me so my head was hovering over the toilet.

"Now take your index finger and your middle finger and put them in your mouth," he continued. I didn't move. "What did I just say about your mother!" he barked. "Take your two fingers and shove them down your throat, now!"

So I did. He counted to three and I shoved them as far back down my throat as I could, causing me to gag. It took a couple attempts, but I finally did it, my dinner now swimming in the toilet.

I sat back, exhausted, trying to catch my breath. Ian then started stroking the back of my head. "Good girl," he told me, the nickname making me sick. "Now thank me."

Thinking about my mother, I did what he asked of me. "Thank you."

"Thank you, master," he corrected me.

"Thank you, master." Saying that made me feel sick to my stomach, and I thought I'd barf again.

I could sense his evil smile behind me as he stroked my hair. He was truly a monster. How could someone who acted so kind and loving do such evil acts?

"You're welcome, slave. Now go to your room."

I nodded my head, thankful that I could finally get away. Soon as I reached the door, he called out my name.

"Danielle, I want you to download a calorie counting app and keep track of everything you eat. I do not expect you to exceed six hundred calories tomorrow or you'll be punished. And it will be worse than purging, understand?"

I nodded my head, hating myself for how obedient I was acting.

"Good. You can go now."

Soon as I was out of site, I sprinted towards my bedroom. Once I closed the door, I started bawling. I tried to think of what that monster could do to my mother if I disobeyed him. What was he capable of?

I found myself staring at a mirror again, mentally criticizing my appearance. I could hear Ian in my head, telling me how fat and disgusting I was. I started crying even harder as I realized he was right. He might be a monster, but he was honest.

I was disgusting.

I downloaded a calorie counting app like Ian told me to because I realized I needed it. I needed to keep track of everything that entered my body tomorrow so that I wouldn't overeat. I didn't need to gain anymore weight. Instead, I needed to shed it. And fast.

I spent the rest of my night staring at thinspiration, envious of girls I didn't know who had bodies I always wanted. I told myself that one day I'd look like them.

Ian didn't bother me anymore that night. And as much as I'd grown to hate him that day, I was a little thankful for the brutal honesty. Because of him, I was awake now. I realized how ugly I was, but I also realized I how I could fix it.

I wouldn't starve myself. I would just eat a little less than normal. Six hundred calories wouldn't be so bad. I just needed to exercise self control.

I walked over to my balcony and stared up at the stars to calm myself down. It took myself a minute to realize that someone else was out there.

"Hey neighbor girl."