1950s shit is hot.

I'm waiting for him to come home. I'm always nervous in these moments before he gets home. He'll either be sober and somber, or drunk and hateful. I never know which I like more.
Dinner is on the stove and ready to plate as soon as I hear his key in the lock. Every time I hear the elevator open I tense and run for my ladle. It is always the elevator sound that I almost don't hear. When his key slides into the lock, I am dishing out rice, and sliding chicken onto a plate. When he opens the door I am almost to the second plate. By the time his coat is hanging, I am ready, two full dinner plates in hand.
It takes him two tries to hang up his coat, which lets me know he's the latter of the two options. He is unhappy with dinner as soon as he sets it on the table. He walks over and gives me a brief, dismissive kiss on the side of the temple and sits down. I am waiting for a rant about work, to hear about how stupid his boss is or how much he loathes his secretary but he is quiet as he takes the first bite.
He takes a second.
Out of nowhere he flips the plate, rice splattering onto the floor, and glass shattering around me. My breath is caught and it is a long moment of fear before I even realize I am holding my breath.
"What the fuck is that?"
I wait and he slaps me across the face.
"What the fuck is that?"
I open my mouth to speak and feel tears well up. He slaps me again across the face and stands as I being to tremble.
"Stupid bitch." He grabs me by my hair, tightening his fingers and making my scalp burn. He pulls me up and out of the chair, tears running black mascara down my cheeks. "You stupid bitch, do you not understand what I'm saying?"
"I do!" I finally cry out, voice trembling.
He stops. "Good." He slaps me again. "She's slow but she's listening" he says to no one in particular. "So what the fuck is this?" He points to the food on the floor and pushes my head towards it. "This is shit." He shoves my face closer. "This is dog food, you cunt." His fingers tighten in my hair and I start to whimper over the tears. He continues to curse under his breath. "You're making me eat dog food, you little inconsiderate cunt." He finally shoves my face into the floor. "Then eat like a dog. Off the floor." He shoves my face harder into the floor, my cheek flush against the wood. "You don't appreciate what I give you, so eat like a dog."
I breathe hard, waiting. He turns my face. "EAT." I open my mouth, unsure. "Eat off the floor like the ungrateful dog you are." He squats down and watches as I take small bites, licking, tasting everything I use to clean the wood, tasting dinner, tasting shame, tasting my tears as they drip down. "Good girl."
He watches me closely and then turns my head again. Rice and carrots stick to my cheek. He stands and places a foot on my other cheek, pressing me harder and harder into the floor. "Ungrateful cunt."
"Yes, Sir." I squeak out.
He removes his boot. "Do you know what you're good for? Get up."
I stumble to my feet, wiping my face, pieces of food dropping to the floor.
"You know what you're good for. Do it." I get down on my knees, and unzip his pants. He slaps me softly on the face. It's the closest he can come to affection right now.
I lean in and begin to lick his cock. It is already swollen, the tip red and ready to drip. I take it into my mouth quickly as he begins to get restless with my tongue. He moans.
He grabs the sides of my face and starts to fuck my mouth slowly, almost calmly. It is the only time he will be calm tonight.
In full control of my head, he is getting faster. And though I want to struggle, I continue to cry, simply letting him slide his cock into my throat. It works my mouth roughly, sliding out slowly and then pounding it back in. Over and over he takes long drags and then violent thrusts. I whimper, spit dripping from my mouth and onto my dress. His hands tighten on my face, and his thumbs go on either side of my mouth to hold it open.
"Fuck, you do know what you're good for." I can taste his precum as he drags his cock over my tongue.
Finally he pulls out and I reach up to wipe my mouth of spit and makeup and pieces of the floor I came from. "Bend over."
I do willingly, and he pulls my dress up in the back. He had me stop wearing panties months ago, preferring only garter belts and stockings to the bother of underwear. He reaches underneath me as I bend over the table and I am humiliated at how wet I am. "Such a hungry little dog, aren't you?"
He shoves his cock in me and I moan. "No, puppy. Bark for me." I am timid. Shocked, really. He grabs my hair and pulls my head back. "BARK."
"Arf!" I yelp out, just wanting my hair back.
As I let it out he starts to fuck me. "Don't moan, puppy. Just bark."
I nod, biting my lip and trying to keep all sounds in. I reach my hand down between my legs and tempt fate.
He fucks me hard, and I feel my cunt squeezing him hard. As I slam into the table, my hips begin to ache and I feel he has finally chipped the bones underneath.
I want him to explode inside me. I want to feel it dripping down my thighs as I kneel down and clean up glass and food. I rub my own clit furiously, crying out, loudly. "ARF ARF ARF!"
He moans, shooting hard into me. He bucks against my ass, holding it tightly before letting me go. He stumbles off to bed, and I feel it begin to drip as I kneel down and pick up my first bits of rice.