She took off her shirt and walked up to the mirror to face her naked blue reflection. He had promised her a bruising, he had warned her, told her what to expect but she had laughed off his silliness. Now she winced as she gingerly touched a new born welt on her abdomen. All across her body he had left little isles of his promise, each swelling up as a reminder of his presence and power over her. He had been careful not to scar her face, he hadn't touched her arms either; marking his playing field to strictly neck and below. So while her perfect face and her smooth arms stood a rich brown, the rest of her was slowly turning into a riot of blues. She looked into the mirror, at what he had done to her, and smiled.