Bella's father was a paedophile. There was no euphemistic way of putting this – it was the unfortunate truth. His modus operendi was to take advantage of every cyber-boyfriend Bella ever got her ugly paws on. The last unfortunate had been lured to Las Vegas by the dynamic duo, taken heavily by the creepy old Mexican and then left in a skip until his discovery by the authorities. Charlie was notorious for his ability to take a boy (or girl) up the tight virgin ass. Bella wasn't necessarily complicit, but Charlie would beat her ritualistically, occasionally going so far as to rape the unfortunate teen girl, if she didn't bend to his will.
As such, Bella's life was in tatters. She passed her time constantly looking for new prey, her father usually standing guard on the other side of the room with his trousers down, ready and waiting for the beautiful boy to appear on the webcam. Sadly, the last few times he had been disappointed – they were too pubic, one skinny little runt after the other, all over the age of eighteen, far beyond his preference.
Bella received a beating after the fifth one of this persuasion. It was ugly – she didn't know what she could do, as Gaia was only ever populated by ugly freaks. Charlie smacked her first, right in the ugly face, and she fell backwards over her computer chair.
"You fuck up, kid," he screamed in a heavy Latino accent, whopping out his sinister codpiece.
"Please don't," Bella pleaded, knowing what was about to come (as it were).
"I drown you in my semen now, bitch."
Charlie speared Bella as the Romans speared Jesus on the cross, though sadly the feeling of arousal was not mutual. Bella tried to fight him off, but his enormous bulk trapped her, culminating in her final attempt at escape, which was rewarded with a faceful of ass.
When finally Charlie relinquished, he left Bella in a sobbing heap in the corner, covered in their respective secretions. Thankfully, she made a quick recovery – she was used to her father's incestual rape. With a final sigh, the panting Charlie turned and opened a creaky, constantly locked door, taking a set of steps down into what was referred to as his 'playground'. Bella had only been down a few times when her Gaia suitors had been rounded up and submitted to the worst forms of paedophilic torture known to man (or, indeed, boy).
The spent corpses were suspended on chains, above the steel-framed, mattress-less bed, the arrows from which they were murdered protruding crudely from their genital area, awaiting cremation. Dried blood coated parts of the concrete floor, as well as the bed itself, while Charlie's 'toys' were kept in full view over on the back wall for the whole playground to see. If ever you thought of something spiky or phallic, Charlie had it.
"Come down here now, girl," he growled drily from the bottom of the ominous stairs. Shaking, Bella knew that she had no choice but to obey. The doors were locked. There was no escape. Bella was forced to descend into the dark depths, knowing that, despite the immense pain she was in, her suffering had only just begun.
