Hello! This is my first fic, so I'm nervous! Let me know what you think and how to improve. I will try to keep Jack in character as much as possible! Flames will be frowned upon.
Disclaimer: Sadly I do not own anything except my OC's.
Chapter 1
He stepped behind her small form, gently pushing aside her long locks. He never let her cut her hair. Only sluts and whores cut their hair. He admired the dark hue, the delicate curls. They were his. She was his. He slowly unzipped the doll-like dress, savoring every inch that came into view. The unblemished, smooth skin. That was too. She was just too small to become aware of that yet.
Her hair rose on end as he slid the dress off of her body, touching it more than necessary. It felt awful when he touched her. She bit back the tears and fought the shakes, all of which were fighting to escape. They were trying to betray her. They were trying to make him angry. After these thirteen years she knew not to make him angry. She worried that every night might be the one where he decided to cross his boundaries and take her. To push the relationship further make her his own.
Once he removed the dress, he guided her to the tub. Each footstep leading her to his sick perversion. That's when she had begun struggling to see past the unshed tears. They blinded her, trying desperately to escape. She rushed to blink them away. Instead trying to focus on her surroundings. She hated this house, this room. She hated he was allowed to abuse her while her mother was away. Her mother, who would unknowingly come home late at night never suspecting the evil that her brother had within him. The room was lit only with candles. Their scent overwhelmingly sweet. Each hole in the wall told a story. The one to the left of the door was from when her father left her mother. He left that behind when her mother allowed the monster to move in. The first time she ran, HE had dealt the one to the right of the mirror. That was when she met Jack. That was a while ago. Now he took it out on her. It always worked out to his liking.
He picked her up and sat her down in the tub. Taking time to enjoy the touch of her, the sight of her in his arms. He began washing her hair. That was his favorite part. Then he moved on to her body. He made sure to wash her thoroughly. She had to be clean. All the while he hummed a lullaby. The one her mother used to sing to her. The sound of which made chills run down her spine. She sat perfectly still. He liked that. He liked the candlelight on her body, the bubbles on her skin, her obedience. His bulge had become painful by now. He loved her growing features. No longer able to hold the feeling, he unzipped and moved to show himself to her. He made sure she looked and found pleasure as her expression changed into one of shock.
He had never done this before. He had never gone that far. And she sat stunned worried her luck was running out. He quickly snatched her hand which caused her to coil away. He ignored the reaction and held her tightly in his firm grasp, leading her hand to his happy spot. She desperately tried to tug her hand away, using the tub as leverage. He became angry and rewarded her with a resounding smack. She gave up fighting and held her smarting cheek with her free hand. Her eye began to water, her head began to spin. Finally, her hand reached his intended destination. The moan he released was guttural and sharp. He shoved her hand away and abruptly stood up, running out of the room.
Relieved, she rushed to wash away what remained of his touch. She jumped out of the tub and worked to put on the dress that lay on the floor. She was soaking wet and this only seemed to agitate the material that absolutely refused to be worn. She didn't pause to zip it up, he would be back. She didn't want to be here when he did. She sprinted for the door. Behind it lurked her freedom. It called for her. She hurried under the fence and ran into the wide forest that grew behind. She ran towards their meeting place. The place that felt like home.