Daddy's Sweet Little Whore

Chapter 1

Loosely based on my other story – Daryl's Story but some details are different.

Contains graphic child abuse – (sexual) of all kinds - please don't read if you are sensitive to this.

i.

I sighed as I came home from school – my ribs hurting like a bitch where he'd kicked me black and blue last night on the floor. For apparently looking at him sideways. I slumped into the kitchen, holding my hand to my side and dumped my school bag on the kitchen table. What was the fucking point of school anyway? Trigonometry wasn't ever going to save me.

Praying that he was out round Matt's -getting boozed up and high on crystal. Hoping he'd pass out and stay there overnight.

The house was quiet – seemed like he was out. I was lucky.

I glared at the several empty beer cans on the table. Probably his – he started drinking as soon as he got up whenever the hell that was.

'Merle?' I called out and hated the quavering timbre to my voice 'cos of course I was hoping he was at home. 'Cos I always felt that little bit safer when my big brother was around – knew that Dad wouldn't go too far in front of him.

Then I heard his laugh. Shit – should have remembered that Merle had changed shifts at the car garage. No doubt Dad hadn't forgotten – he was always asking my brother about his work and his shift pattern but not because he cared.

I knew the real reason.

''Come here, son. Miss me?'' Suddenly Dad was standing in front of me – complete with a can in hand. Filthy string vest and boxers. Nothing on his feet. I could smell him from here – he rarely bothered to shower these days and see his 3 day beard on his face.

I calculated how far I could run out of the front door before he caught me. Get to the woods – where I was safe.

He sniggered – reading my mind as he shifted to block my way.

No chance. Even though I was 16 – I grew slow – still had skinny arms and a small frame. No match against his bulk.

'Fuck off.' I snarled at him, lashing out first. Knowing what he wanted. Could see it in his eyes. What he always wanted from me these days when he wasn't beating the shit out of me.

I was rewarded by him striding the few feet that separated us to cuff me. I cowered to the ground automatically, like I always did – my arms raised to instinctively protect my head.

'The fuck ya say to me?' He slurred. But the additional blows I was expecting never came.

I didn't answer.

But the slur gave me hope – maybe he wouldn't be able to do it. Maybe he'd pass out beforehand. It had happened a few times before.

The he reached down to stroke my hair. And when I was little – I would have leaned into his hand but his touch now made my skin crawl. It felt like there were roaches crawling all over my scalp and I flinched and cringed away. Trying in vain to get away from his hand.

From his disgusting touch.

'Come here, boy. ' He said tenderly, then helped me up. Dragging me to his bedroom by one arm.

'Ya going to be a good boy, ain't ya? To ya old Dad?' He almost pleaded.

'Fuck you, ya sick fuck.' I couldn't help antagonising him because his gentle father act was creeping me out more than the usual brutality ever would.

Violence was simply more easy to deal with.

'Get in there.' He growled as he roughly pushed me into the room.

Merle! I screamed with my mind. Strange to say – sometimes he came running. Like he knew I was in trouble.

'Now, now.' He said to me, his eyes roving greedily all over my body. 'Take ya clothes off.' He ordered while undoing his belt.

I flinched when he always did that – even though I knew he was going to use it on me today.

No – he had something else in mind.

'No!' I screamed at him. My own rage taking over.

'If ya don't...it's gonna be bad. I ain't gonna be gentle.'

I almost laughed in his face. When had he ever been gentle?

'Well, if ya won't...I'll jus' have to, won't I?' He said as he shoved me onto the bed. Started pulling off my T-shirt and yanking off my jeans. His hands all over me – touching me everywhere until I wanted to throw up. Trying to arouse me – wriggling his fingers inside me – touching me down there even. But I swallowed the bile back down – it would not do good to provoke him further by puking all over the new bedroom carpet.

Strangely, while this was happening – all I could remember was when I was small and he was Nice Daddy – when he'd innocently undress me to give me a bath. Or undo my shoelaces before pulling off my shoes when he tucked me in at night with a kiss on the forehead.

Was it so different?

When had everything gone to shit? Why?

I fought, I struggled- I promise you, I did not go quietly but he was far too strong for me as we wrestled. But I was making it hard for him to undress me – all the time I was praying that just this once Merle would come home unexpectedly and catch us and put a stop to this sick shit once and for all.

Because I couldn't tell him – couldn't put it into words what was happening to me nearly every day – sometimes nights too.

He had to see. He had to know. Could he really be so blind?

But he knew something was wrong – looked at me with growing concern but I brushed off his questions. That was when he was home of course and relatively sober which didn't happen very often.

'No!' I screamed, I yelled until he punched me in the face several times. Then several times more right on top of my already bruised ribs and I couldn't help screaming in pain when he did that.

To subdue me. No doubt worried about the neighbours hearing me. Not that they would do anything.

Then he pulled off my trousers and my underwear while I just lay there. I drew in my knees to my chest and curled up into a ball.

He just laughed.

My face was throbbing and so was my side – I hoped that my bruised ribs hadn't been upgraded into broken ones. Or that he hadn't given me internal injuries. And I dreaded to see what I looked like. More funny looks the next time I went out. Everybody knew that he beat the shit out of me but I don't think they knew about the other stuff he did to me.

It was just pain and I was used to it. Knew how to deal with it – ignore it and push it one side.

'Now, now.' He leered at me as his pinned me to the bed by my thin arms.

I struggled but his grip on me was made of steel.

Then he took the belt and I couldn't help cringing like I always did when he did that. He sneered with contempt at me.

'I gonna teach ya a lesson, boy. About respect.'

But he didn't do what I expected him to – he took the belt and wrapped it tight around my neck.

Wha...' I gasped. He'd never done this before.

'From now on, ya do somethin' I don't like, ya get this!' He whispered and pulled the belt so tight that I couldn't breathe. Let me choke for a few seconds – it felt like minutes – until my vision started to grey.

Message was loud and clear. He'd fuckin' kill me if I didn't submit and please him besides.

He turned me over then onto my stomach and got out the lubricant jelly he kept in his bedside table. Rubbed it all over his erect cock – already moaning as he did so. I didn't turn my head round – didn't want to look but I could hear clearly what he was doing.

Probably used it on himself before he started using me I thought wryly to myself.

'I think we'll skip the warm-up and all.' He announced. He meant when he raped my mouth and made me suck him until he came. His hand fisting my hair and barely letting me breathe. Never let me spit – always made me swallow his vile fluid that always made me want to puke it right up again. Or he did the same to me until I orgasmed despite my shame and humiliation. 'Cos the sick bastard was always able to make me come. Just to show me that he was in complete control of my body and I wasn't.

'Just go straight to the main act, huh son?' He pressed his stiff dick against my backside but without penetrating me yet. Suggested it like he was offering me a choice while yanking on the belt around my neck like I was a dog. I didn't have enough breath to answer but he took it as a yes, anyway.

'God, ya so tight and hot.' He groaned in anticipation. 'Now, ya be a good hot little bitch for Daddy and ya won't get hurt. I'll even let ya breathe, how that do ya?'

'Enough with the foreplay.' I sneered at him. Knowing the earlier he got started, the earlier it would be over. Looking at my blood from the head wounds that were already on the sheets. 'Get on with it already.'

Knowing that there would be more blood to come.

'Just as ya like.' He sniggered and pushed into me.

Started thrusting almost immediately. I couldn't help myself whimpering like I always did when my father raped me but it only excited me more.

'That's it, ya little slut. Ya like it, don't ya?'

'No!' I screamed as he started to really pound away at me – going deeper and deeper. My panic growing as I felt like I was being ripped apart from the inside. And the pain from my ribs from the movement.

'Please Daddy stop!' I begged. That earned me a cuff round the head. I was calling him by the childish name we used to when were smaller. 'Ya hurtin' me!'

'Shut up, ya little cocktease.' He panted between groans of ecstasy. 'Ya wanted this – I know ya did – don't play coy with me - ya told me to do it!' He hissed in my ear then tightened the belt around my neck. My chest hitched uselessly in and out because I couldn't get a breath. Panic made me struggle even more – I really thought he was going to kill me but just as everything around me was starting to go dark, he loosened it again.

'Just for telling me to stop, I'm gonna punish ya some more, ya dirty little whore.' He breathed throatily between moans. 'Daddy's sweet little whore.' He moaned in my ear.

Then he drew back and pushed himself even more viciously deeper inside me.

Riding me. Tightening and loosening the belt at the same time like I was a horse and he was holding my reins.

And all the time my ribs throbbed from the pounding motions but that was nothing compared to pain inside.

''Cos dirty little boys like ya don't get to say no. This is ya punishment for being bad. For killin' ya Mama.

Despite myself I was crying, maybe even let out a few sobs with the tears running down my cheeks now when he mentioned her. And I couldn't stop them. Because what would she think if she could see us now? And I still missed her desperately.

He drew back and stopped momentarily. Turned me over and gently wiped away my tears with the corner of the sheet. And I felt too weak to struggle – to even cringe away. Worse - I felt ashamed that I let him see me cry when I promised myself I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Ever!

'Cos Dixons don't cry – never.

'Ah... ya know ya did, didn't ya? Ya bought her the rat's piss and the smokes that caused her to pass out and burn herself to death.' He crooned at me before roughly flipping me over and starting all over again. 'Now ya gonna get punished for it, ya bad little boy.'

He doubled the tempo of his thrusts but at least he wasn't going so deep like before. He held the end of the belt to control me.

'Remember when I whipped ya?

I said nothing because he'd twist anything I did say.

'Ya were 10. So little and so scared. Whimperin' and pleadin' like a little whore – just like now.'

'Fuck you. No, I didn't.' I screamed at him as I remembered that day. How could I ever forget? Besides I had the scars to remind me. He tightened on the belt in response- just enough to make it hard for me to breathe.

'Ya nothin', always were nothin' and ya never, ever gonna be nothin'. I own ya now.'

'No! Ya on the one that's fuckin' nothin'!' I screamed back at him in rage but I heard the whimper in my voice soon afterwards as he started to thrust further inside me again.

'Ain't no one ever gonna want ya after what I've done to ya. Marked ya for my own. Even when I'm long dead and gone – you'll always belong to me. 'Cos you'll always remember this as long as ya live.'

He considerately loosened the halter around my neck when I began to sob for real. Couldn't help it as he continued his vicious tirade while forcing himself deeper and deeper into me. Really hurting me.

'Merle never cried.' He taunted me. 'Always took his punishments like a Dixon.'

Despite my pain and terror I turned my head round to stare at him. 'Ya did this to him too?' I cried.

He gave a small, cruel smile. 'You'll have to ask him. But ya won't, will ya, son? Ya don't want anyone to know about our special game. Especially not ya big brother. He'd hate ya forever.'

'That ain't true! He'd hate ya!' I yelled back.

When was he going to be finished? It felt like he'd been at me for hours.

ii.

Merle came back into the kitchen – banged his toolbox onto the kitchen table. Immediately went to the fridge looking for some cool beer to calm himself down. He was furious. He'd just been fired from the fourth job in a row just because they found some coke in his locker. For fuck's sake! He bet it was that slimeball Martinez who set him up just because he banged his girlfriend once. And she was nothing to look at - was a junkie whore who wasn't even that good in the sack.

His mind chewed over the images of exactly how he was going to make the sneering Martinez pay for the loss of his job. Didn't look like another one would come along so quickly now that the recession was in full swing.

And there wasn't any beer either! Probably the old man had drunk them all even though Merle had been the one to buy them. Stomping upstairs in a foul mood he went to his bedroom but stopped as he heard the noises coming from their father's room next door. Thumping noises and groans and whimpers.

'Just for telling me to stop, I'm gonna punish ya some more, ya dirty little whore...Daddy's sweet little whore.' He heard his father say through the thin walls. Did he have one of his broads in there – who obviously liked it rough and it sounded very kinky. He chuckled to himself dirtily as he cupped his ear to the wall. God – he was getting turned on by his father talking dirty to the woman even though he knew he shouldn't be listening.

Then he straightened up in shock at the next thing he heard.

''Cos dirty little boys like ya don't get to say no. This is ya punishment for being bad. For killin' ya Mama.'

'Dirty little boys like you? Killing your Mama?' What the fuck? Then Merle heard boyish sobs – Daryl's? His baby brother was in there? Daryl was crying? He'd raised him better than that. 'Cos Dixons never cried. Daryl hadn't - not since he was five years old. He must be mistaken. Couldn't be his baby brother – some other boy - besides their Daddy wasn't gay – he fucking hated those perverted assfuckers.

'Ah... ya know ya did, didn't ya? Ya bought her the rat's piss and the smokes that caused her to pass out and burn herself to death. Now ya gonna get punished for it, ya bad little boy.' Merle heard his father's voice croon before he started making sex noises shortly again afterwards.

All groans and swinish grunts.

His father could only be talking about their Mama who died in the fire.

'Remember when I whipped ya? Ya were 10. So little and so scared. Whimperin' and pleadin' like a little whore – just like now.'

Heard his brother say 'Fuck you!' defiantly. 'No, I didn't!'

'Ya nothin', always were nothin' and ya never, ever gonna be nothin'. I own ya now.'

'No! Ya the one's that fuckin' nothin'!' Daryl fought back but then Merle heard his teenage brother start to whimper in that irritating way of his that used to drive Merle nuts. But now those sounds made his heart lurch painfully in his chest so much that it physically hurt. And he'd tried to make him grow out of it. But what the hell was going on?

'Ain't no one ever gonna want ya after what I've done to ya. Marked ya for my own. Even when I'm long dead and gone – you'll always belong to me. You'll always remember this as long as ya live.'

He could barely believe what he was hearing. Must be some kind of sick joke right? Must be his imagination? Or did he fall asleep and was having a nightmare?

'Merle never cried.' He heard his father taunt his sobbing brother. 'Always took his punishments like a Dixon.'

In between the thumps and obscene groans of pleasure.

Right that was it. Merle decided to go and see for himself. Hoping that it was all just a product of his sick and twisted mind. Hoping that he'd go in there and find his father fucking some broad. Or better- no-one there at all. Hoping that he was on the worst trip of his life but he didn't recall taking anything recently. Had been trying to clean up, find a job and save some money actually. Get him and Daryl out of this shithole and away from their old man for good. Still, he had the presence of mind to take his gun with him – fully loaded that he used for self- protection (it was necessary in their neighbourhood) and his hunting knife. Just in case.

Went next door and without warning burst open the door. Saw something that would be burnt in his memory until the day he died. Every fucking filthy, disgusting detail. And the image would be there waiting for him before he fell asleep every night.

Daryl crying and their father was on top of him. Riding him – his belt tied around his younger brother's throat like a dog collar– like a horse's halter with the end in their father's hand.

The scars visible on his back and nasty blue- black bruises on his side.

'Ya did this to him too?' Daryl turned round to ask their father between sobs. Still managing to sound horrified and concerned for him. Then Merle saw his beaten face and he silently vowed vengeance for every bruise on his baby brother's body – in addition to the unbelievable sick scene before him.

'You'll have to ask him. But ya won't, will ya, son? Ya don't want anyone to know about our special game. Especially not ya big brother. He'd hate ya forever.'

'That ain't true! He'd hate ya!' Daryl yelled back.

Then their father sensed his presence and finally saw him in the doorway.