Jasmine Jolene stood before her father. Her father, whom she hated dreadfully. He was sitting in front of her, waiting.
The dim light above them shined down. Her aqua eyes glistened slightly in the light. She stood before him, fully clothed. She was waiting. Waiting patiently for the order to be given.
He sat on the bed, in the dimly lit room. Her mother had left. She did not want her to leave. To leave her alone with him. The man who she called her father. She pleaded her, told her to stay. But, she didn't listen. She never listened to her daughter's words. It was not that she hated her, she loved her. She just didn't seem to care much. For her fourteen-year-old daughter.
His hands rested in his lap. Hands folded neatly over one another.
He leaned forward slightly and spoke, "Jasmine, take off your clothes..."
She did not hesitate. She was used to this routine now. It has gone on since she was ten-years-old.
Jasmine unbuttoned her long-sleeved shirt and slipped her arms out. She let the shirt fall to the floor as she then slid her shorts off.
Now, she was standing before him in only her bra and underwear. She unhooked her bra at the back and let it fall. Her breasts were milky white, smooth. The nipples were mostly pink. Her slim, almost flawless body was beautiful. He grinned as she knelt down and slid her panties off, down her legs.
Her panties were around her ankles when he spoke again, "Good girl." He briefly praised her.
She slightly smiled at her father as she stepped out of her underwear, so it wasn't around her ankles.
He was staring at her intently. At her breasts, her face. Everything. Jolene's face was the most part that he found beautiful, surprisingly.
She had bright, aqua eyes which glistened like jewels. Her medium-length pale blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Her lips were lightly glossed. Lips that seemed to be lollypop smooth. Her milky white skin was smooth.
Like the soft skin of a baby. She had no pimples, almost no imperfections besides the small bruise on the right side of her neck. Her father had struck her once. For disobeying the order that was given. He was careful not to strike her face. For, he did not want to damage a pretty face such as her's.
He licked his lips as he leaned forward. "Now, be a good girl and don't move." He told her as he stood. He was standing in front of her.
His right hand lingered to one of her breasts. His bare hand cupped over her breast. He squeezed it, and she cried out almost soundlessly.
"Silence," He said as his left hand slid down her smooth skin.
His hand stopped at her waist and then lingered to her pubic hair. "Someone might hear us..." He whispered as he touched her.
He squeezed at her breast again as he moved close. A single tear slid down her cheek as her lips parted. She wanted to ask him a question, but she was afraid.
"Papa," His hand loosened around her breast.
He pulled his hand back. "Yes?" She winced as he touched her in that place again. His left hand was still there.
"D-do men..." He looked into her eyes. "Do men enjoy...this kind of thing?" She shivered slightly as the question fell from her lips.
A smirk spread across his lips as they parted. "Yes. They do." He answered. "Men do enjoy this sort of thing, Jasmine. It makes them feel..." He bit his lip thoughtfully. He couldn't think of the right word to use.
The word that came to Jolene's mind was: Pervy. This thought made her giggle briefly, and he looked at her.
"What's so funny?" She quieted her soft giggling.
"Nothing." She answered quickly.
"Oh. All right-" His expression suddenly changed to that of disgust. Then, she felt it. As the dark, moist liquid ran down between her thighs.
Her father pulled his hand back. Dark, moist blood was trickling down his fingers. Period.
She wanted to giggle at the sight of his disgusted face as he stared at his hand. But, she didn't. She only held her breath. Hoping that he wouldn't strike her.
"Why now?" He sounded disappointed. "Why does something like this happen when it gets good?" She shivered at the way his voice sounded.
"Never mind." He snatched her panties up off the floor and wiped the blood off of his fingers with it. It smeared.
"Get dressed quickly. And then go up to your room and change...or whatever." He mumbled as he left the room, slamming the wooden door behind him.
Jasmine stood. Staring down at her legs, which were covered in blood. The blood that still trickled down her skin. She quickly pulled her shorts back up. And slipped her shirt back on. She didn't bother to put her bra or panties back on. Or to button her shirt back up. She gathered up her remaining clothing and left the bedroom.
The bedroom which was her mother and father's.
She walked down the hallway silently. She passed by her father, who sat down at the table in the kitchen. He said nothing as she passed him by.
Jasmine slowly walked up the wooden stairs. They slightly creaked underneath her weight. She walked down the hall and then turned around the corner to find a wooden door that was painted in a shade of dark purple. Her hand lightly turned the doorknob. She listened as the door creaked open.
She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. She walked over to her bed. A dark purple blanket was neatly laid down over the mattress and tucked in at the sides. A soft, velvet pillow was set up against the wall.
Jasmine took her clothes off. She looked back down at her legs and cursed under her breath. Her legs were now covered in dried blood. She went out through the door again, out into the hall. She quickly went into the bathroom and got a cloth. She turned the sink on and ran the cloth under the warm water. She turned the water off and scrubbed at the blood, washing it off her skin.
She felt strange, walking around in the nude. But, it didn't really bother her. She was used to it. And her mother, or anyone else wasn't here. Only her father, who was downstairs. She held the still wet cloth against her pubic hair so that the blood wouldn't run down her legs again.
She went back into her room and shut the door with her free hand. She walked over to her dresser and pulled a drawer open. She looked through it and pulled out a pair of light jeans. She folded the jeans neatly and placed them down on the carpet. She then walked over to the closet.
Her hands grabbed the wooden handle and tugged the door open. She browsed through the clothes that hung in front of her. She took a lavender colored sleeveless tank top down from one of the hangers. She closed the closet door and walked back over to her dresser.
She laid the shirt down over the pair of jeans. She pulled one of the top drawers open and took a bra and a pair of underwear from it before she closed the drawer. She held the bra up over her breasts as she hooked the strap at the back. She carefully placed the cloth in her underwear before she put them on. She stood as she held the lavender tank top up.
Then, she simply slipped the shirt on. It felt light, comfy. She picked up the pair of jeans and sat down on the edge of her bed. Her skin felt the soft feeling of the blanket underneath her as she put the jeans on. She didn't really care if it matched or not. It wasn't like she had anywhere to go.
A few hours later, she heard footsteps as her father came upstairs. Jasmine was laying down on her bed, looking up at the ceiling. It was nighttime. Her mother still wasn't back yet. Her father knocked on the wooden door.
"Come in." She said as she leaned up on the bed.
He turned the doorknob and opened the door slowly. He stepped into her room. Looking down at her with his hands behind his back, he said,
"Your mother isn't coming home tonight."
She looked up at him. Into his blue eyes. His dirty blond hair was messy-looking. She thought about what he said. She didn't seem to understand. Her mother always came home.
She pursed her lips, "Why isn't she coming home?"
He looked into her aqua eyes.
"She's busy." And he told her nothing more. He was lying, and she knew. But she stayed silent as he moved towards her. He leaned over.
"So, since she isn't coming home. I'll just sleep with you tonight." His whispers made a chill run down her spine.
"I'm just your father. Nothing will happen between us..." No, no, he was not her father. He only wanted to molest her. To rape her.
Her lips quivered as she tried to answer him. But failed to make the words come to her lips. "That's fine with you, isn't it?" He was raping her with his eyes. He licked his lips as he stared at her breasts. Oh, how he wanted her.
She finally managed to speak. But, her voice was only in a whisper.
"No." She shook her head slowly. "No. No, no..." Tears slid down her cheeks. He stared at her. She had never told him "no" before.
She watched as his blue eyes darkened.
"What did you say?" His voice was a whisper.
"No. I said no..." He struck her. Jasmine fell to the floor. She felt a throbbing pain in her cheek. Like a tooth ache, but much worse. There was a dark bruise on her right cheek, just below her eye.
Before she could even move, he came at her. He pulled his arm back. But just before his fist would have struck her, she grabbed hold of his wrist.
She tightened her grip, digging her long fingernails into his skin. "I've had enough! I'm sick of you!" She screamed in his face. She jerked his arm back and then threw him carelessly to the floor.
The side of his face pressed down against the carpet. She stood over him, and then turned him over so that he's laying on his back. Before he could even get up, she sat down on top of his chest, his head in between her thighs as she stretched her legs out. She bent down over him slightly, gripping his shoulders.
"Where is my mother?" She asked, her voice in a serious tone.
He wasn't looking at her. He was staring in between her thighs, at her crotch. She tightened her grip on his shoulders and then slapped him across the face, sharply. Her fingernails left three, thin scratch marks on his cheek. He was staring at her face now, into her eyes.
"Where is my mother?!" She screamed at him again.
A smirk crept across his lips, and she knew. She knew what he had done.
"I raped her." He told her bitterly.
Jasmine felt her heart throbbing against her chest. She was silent as she stood over him again. She simply stepped over him and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind her. She heard him get to his feet and come running for the door. She had to get out. She had to run away.
Jasmine gripped the wooden railing as she ran down the stairs. She felt her skin burning as she slid her hand down the rail. He was behind her now.
"No matter where you may run, I will find you!" He was screaming.
Jasmine quickly ran through the kitchen and over to the back door. She unlocked it. The door swung open, and she clumsily fell to the ground. She got to her feet as she heard him coming for her.
He tried to get out, but she had slammed it. His fingers got caught in the door. He screamed as he tried to open the door, which was locked from the outside now.
As she ran, she didn't look back.
All she could hear, was him bellowing after her, "I will find you, you slut! I will fucking find you and make you mine! You hear me?!" She ignored his senseless screams as they soon faded.
She had run from him. But, she was afraid that he would come for her. That he would find her.
But most of all, she had wished that she could have went with her mother. That they both got away from him. But, she couldn't. She couldn't go back. To save her. She was alone now, and she feared that she always would be. All alone.