Okay, I just want everyone to know that I do not approve of this kind of behavior. I heard about a girl being raped by her step-father, and she died. I figured that I should give a happy ending to this type of story. I personally think it is disgusting to abuse children in any way, let alone sexually. This story will be rough, but will have a happy ending. If you don't like what you read, don't read it. I'll take the flames as they come though. Do not read if you are under 18!!!!!! Very mature content that children should not read about! If you continue to read this, thank you for bearing with me!

~Elle

Prologue

I was running away. I would call my mom when I reached Forks, Washington; reached my real father.

I would feed her some story about wanting to leave her and…Phil alone. I would never let her know the real, true reason why I left that house, left them, left her. She would NEVER know what her husband had put me through. She would never know the pain…the abuse…the sorrow, that I had suffered at the hand of her husband.

Chapter one

Flashback

My mother was getting married today. I was excited for her, but my new step-father-to-be scared me. Every time I he looked at me, the look in his eyes sacred me tremendously. He looked at me with a hunger. For what, I didn't know. I never thought that I would want to know.

One month later:

My mom and Phil just got back from their Honeymoon. I had stayed with my father, Charlie in Forks for a month during the summer while they were away. I came back and I rushed into my mother's arms. I looked at Phil.

"It's good to see you again, Phil," He shook my hand, but when he did, he tightened his grip on my hand. It hurt, but his eyes dared me to say anything, so I didn't. My mom went into the kitchen and he looked down at me.

"Isabella, I will only say this once, so I want you to listen very carefully." I nodded silently.

"When you address me, you. Will. Call. Me. Daddy, do you understand me?" He questioned me.

I was bewildered. This man was not my father, but he scared me. I would do anything so he wouldn't hurt me. He had never hurt me before, but I knew that he would if I disobeyed.

"Yes, Daddy, I understand you." I replied softly.

"What a good little girl you are. Look how happy you make your Daddy," he lifted my head up sharply from under my chin. My gaze was level with his private parts. There was a bulge there. I was repulsed. I didn't know what to say. I just stared.

"Tell your Daddy how glad you are that you make him very happy," he told me as he took my hand and placed it over his bulge. I tried to remove my hand, but he just gripped it tighter and made my hand squeeze him. It was hard, and I could feel the heat. I wanted to gag. I didn't say anything, I just looked down. He suddenly squeezed my hand tighter.

"Tell me!" he growled softly.

"I'm very glad Daddy, that I make you so happy Daddy," I threw in an extra Daddy just to please him. I hoped that he would let me go then. He released my hand and bent down to hug me. He grabbed my front private part, and seemed to massage it roughly. I heard footsteps, and he removed his hand and put it behind my back with the other.

"Oh Bella! I'm so glad that you and Phil are getting along so well,"

End of Flashback

I was sitting in my room trying to write an English essay. The prompt: Write about something that you wish you could change about your life. If I could, I would write about all the times that Phil raped me and about him marrying my mom. Hell, even him entering my mom's life. He made her happy, but she had no clue what he did to me. They were both at work, but I heard a door slam. I hoped to God it was my mother. I heard my door open up quietly.

"Isabella, turn around and look at your Daddy," came the voice that I dreaded every day of my life. Dammit! He came home early today. Probably just so he could have his fun. I mechanically turned around in my chair and looked into his eyes. Lust was prominent in his eyes.

"Isabella, make your Daddy happy," he told me. I knew what he wanted. I stood up as he began to unbuckle his belt. I knew what that belt could do.

Flashback

"Isabella, make your Daddy happy," he told me one day when he didn't have to work, and my mother did. I was sick of being used for sex. I was disgusted with myself. I hated myself, I hated him. I only wish I could tell my mother.

"No, Phil," I was brave today.

"What did you say to me you little bitch?" he asked me, his voice deadly.

"You heard me, Phi. I won't make you 'happy.'" He began to unbuckle his belt anyways. He took it all the way off though. He folded it in half. He stalked over to me, and ripped my shirt off of my body. He seen a cup of water next to me and poured it over my back.

Throwing me onto the floor, he straddled my small frame to hold me down. My back wet with the water, he began to beat me with his leather belt. Each strike burned and I wanted to scream in pain, but I wouldn't let him know that it hurt.

End of flashback

I stood up and walked over to him. I sunk to my knees and waited as he pulled his pants down to his knees and his member sprung out and hit me in the face. He laughed heartily as my mouth dropped open in surprise. He took my shock into his own hands and shoved his dick into my mouth. I almost gagged. It was going in and out of my mouth, each time he didn't move, but he shoved my head down on him, making it go down my throat. One of his hands was in my hair, gripping my hair tightly while driving my head down onto him. I did everything that he liked. I hoped that after his release that he would leave me alone. He did that every once in a while. He wouldn't want sex afterwards. But that was usually if there was a chance that we would be caught. But there was no chance of that today. Damn.

He came into my mouth and I pulled my head back when he took his hand out of my hair. I was always forced to swallow the nasty liquid. I backed away from him and he looked down at himself clearly happy with himself. His head snapped up to look at me though.

"Get back over here you bitch, there's still some cum on my dick. Lick. It. Off. Now! And don't walk, crawl over here." He demanded of me. I wanted to cry. The smell made me want to throw up, but I didn't. I crawled back over to him and gently lifted him to my mouth. I licked the bottom of his member from base to tip. I took him into my mouth, rubbing my tongue all over him. Tasting the saltiness once again made me want to gag. I ignored it. I stopped and pulled back. He looked down and was satisfied.

"Now, I want you to undress and lay on the bed. Undress fast this time, I want to feel you," he told me, I shuddered, but did what I was told with a "Yes Daddy," along the way.

I stripped myself of clothing as fast as possible, for Phil did not like to wait. I had turned around to do this, and when I lay on the bed, he was already undressed. He looked down at me and looked dissatisfied.

"Spread your legs for me, Isabella," he demanded. I knew what he wanted. I slightly picked my legs off the bed and held them together for a minute. Put my hands at the top of my knees and as I opened my legs, I slid my hands down my thighs. My hands hit my epicenter and it was smooth as always. He made sure I knew that I had to be smooth, and I had to shave every day. He pushed my body up the bed and lay down in between my legs with his head lying right on my core. He was kissing his way inside me. He never did this for me. Not that I would want it, but he liked the taste of me. He made me taste myself once, after I released. I wanted to puke all over him for what he was making me do. He had once gathered a lot of my juices on his fingers and shoved them first in his mouth, and then he gathered more and made me lick it off of his hand.

His tongue was now inside me. While it felt amazing, I hated every minute of it. I felt worse because I enjoyed what he made me feel. I was disgusted with myself for it. He circled my clit with his tongue, and I made the appropriate noises, that came so easily, because they were real. His fingers were inside me, going deep inside me while he worked his mouth around my sensitive clit. He did this until I came, and he lapped up the juices that were pouring out of me. He made guttural sounds that vibrated in me and made me cum more. He slowly kissed up my body and he rammed his dick in my sex. He never used a condom. He said that because he started to do this when I was so young, it ruined any chance that I ever had to conceive. He also said that he wanted to hear the noises I made when his warmness exploded inside me. Ugh, I shivered.

I knew my part well though. As he fucked me, raped me, hurt me, I was to make noises of pleasure, and lift my hips up so that he could gain better access.

After hours of abuse, he finally came and rolled off of me. He grabbed his clothes and walked out of the room. I pulled the covers over me and cried myself to sleep. When I woke up, my mom was calling me down for dinner. I feigned sickness and made a decision. I wouldn't, couldn't take this much longer. I had to do something.

I would run away. To Charlie's. If my father knew what was really going on, he would not tolerate it. He had connections as the Chief of Police. He would do something. I would do it tomorrow night. Phil had to work all day and wouldn't be home until three in the morning. I would do it tomorrow. I lay back onto my pillows and fell asleep for another hour.