Chapter 4

Daryl

He was calling to me again as I tried to run out the house. Didn't get far.

'Merle ain't here.' he sneered as he saw me looking round frantically for him. 'No point bleatin' for him.'

'Fuck ya, he's gonna kill ya one of these days when he finds out what ya doin'.' I snarled at him.

That earned me a slap that snapped the back of my head against the wall. I saw stars.

Then he laughed manically. 'He ain't ever gonna find out 'cos you'll never tell anyone that ya my little slut and I use ya whenever I want. And that ya so hot for it ya fuckin' moan and writhe like a whore 'cos ya like fuckin' ya own Daddy. Ya too ashamed. Merle would be disgusted with ya.'

'Ain't true! I fuckin' hate what ya do to me!' I screamed back, releasing all my pent-up rage. And it felt good. Then I instinctively cowered back, expecting to be punished for this outburst before I looked down at the ground. He was right, I was ashamed. Of letting him do his shit to me and not being big or strong enough yet to fight back. I was filthy, I was dirty.

I was nothing. No one. Always going to be a nobody.

He didn't punch me for this disrespect, as I expected, just smirked. Started undoing his belt and I couldn't help the whimper that stole past my lips. Fuck! I was such a pussy – just like Merle was always calling me.

But then seemed he seemed to reconsider. Grabbed me by the arm and manhandled me to the kitchen, even though I bitterly resisted, dragging my feet. Until he pinned me up against the wall in the hall and pressed himself against me. So I could feel how hard he already was. I shuddered.

The consequences of resistance were clear. The threat of rape always worked and I stopped struggling and nodded. Hating myself for my fear and for giving in to him so easily. Merle wouldn't have done, I was sure.

'Fuckin' little piece of worthless shit. Ya only good for that – for fuckin'. 'Cos ya weak, boy. Always whimperin' and whinin'. Merle never did.' He sneered at me.

Did you do it to Merle? I thought but didn't dare to ask. I couldn't bear the thought of my brother suffering through the rapes. But I didn't think so, somehow.

No, the bastard had left those special punishments for me and me alone. I didn't dwell on the reasons why.

'Daddy's got a nice treat for ya today.' He said in a soft, sing-song voice that made my flesh crawl now, because it was the same one he had used to read me bedtime stories when I was small. Talking to me like I was five years old again as he forced me to the floor. Tenderly stroked my hair until I wanted to scream in revulsion. Yanked my T-shirt off over my head and traced the scars he gave me when I was ten with his finger.

Bastard was proud of his handiwork.

'You'll never forget me, even when I'm dead. 'Cos ya got my marks on ya.'

'Fuck you. Ya can't live forever and then I'll forget all about ya! Merle too!' I snarled back.

He punched my kidneys about 6 times in the same place for that particular show of disrespect. I was proud of not crying out with the pain - I just grunted. But knew I'd probably be pissing blood for about a week afterwards.

Wouldn't be the first time either.

He seemed frustrated that he hadn't made me cry or beg yet.

'Ya stay there, don't move. Ya do, ya know what'll happen - I'll rip up ya insides with my cock.'

I said nothing because I knew he was deadly serious and kept my head down. Kept still like he ordered me.

He stepped over me to get the kitchen knife. Waved it in front of me.

Was he going to kill me? A wave of shame washed over me as I began to whimper.

He grabbed me spitefully by the hair. 'Shut up, cryin', ya littl' bitch.'

Merle! Why didn't ya ever notice what he was doing to me?Why are you always stoned and piss-drunk when you're at home?

Why are you never at home?

He straddled me. Slapped my the back of my head.

'Ready for ya treat?'

'Fuck off.'

He slammed my head down on the ground for that.

I felt the point of the knife pressing into the middle of my back – just lightly. Bastard was teasing me.

'Hmm...where shall I do it first?' He mused quietly to himself. Tracing the knife over my skin. There was no pain yet – just pressure but I couldn't help my body's reaction as I shuddered and instinctively tried to jerk away from the blade. Even though it was dangerous.

Probably going over my scars from the belt with it – sick fuck was obsessed with them.

'How about here?'

He suddenly moved the knife lower and I whimpered. Pulled down my jeans and I didn't resist – not when he had the knife . Just like he was undressing me when I was younger. Innocently putting me to bed except for the knife on my back.

Tugged my jeans off down my legs and feet. I knew what was coming next – what always came next lately.

'Ya don't like what I do to ya, maybe ya like this better?' He slit through both sides of my underwear then pulled it off. I started to struggle and he slashed my back – just one cut and not very deep. Still, the pain was excruciating. It was just a warning – fight me and I'll cut you deeper.

I started to sob in the shame and humiliation. And terror – what was he going to do with that knife?

Was he going to kill me? And part of me – I'm ashamed to say – was relieved that I wouldn't have to suffer his gropes or his violations anymore.

But I couldn't see what he was doing and this just added to my sense of panic. My breath came short and fast as my chest hitched in and out. Feeling like I couldn't breathe.

And I knew he was smiling – could hear it in his voice. He'd finally made me cry.

'Ya don't like me inside ya, maybe ya like this better? Better not move a muscle, boy – otherwise might do some serious damage.' He laughed then, mockingly.

He slid the point of the knife into my backside lightly over my skin. Then into me. He was fucking me with it!

Deeper and Deeper. I fought with myself not to panic – knowing any sudden movement was dangerous – that he was right.

I hoped that he hadn't done any serious damage already.

'Please...Daddy...'

'Shut the fuck up!' He hissed at me but he did take the knife out. Slowly and carefully.

Only to use it to slash my back again. This time a little deeper. I couldn't help screaming.

He punched me down.

'See, my little whore, I've made more! More scars!' He shouted triumphantly as I felt the burning sting of the cuts and the blood trickling down my stinging back.

I knew then he was crazy. If by some miracle, I hadn't realised before.

Then, he slowly started to reinsert the knife. 'Don't fuckin' move.' He warned me again but I couldn't help wondering - what if he cut me inside?

I whimpered. 'Daddy...' I whined.

'What now? This is supposed to by ya treat, should be enjoyin' ya sweet self...Say ya want me inside ya otherwise I'll go all the way in with it and cut ya up inside.' But the knife stopped moving deeper inside me. Was still.

'Say it!' He yelled at me but he still didn't take the knife out of me. At least it wasn't moving.

'I want ya inside me, Dad!' I cried in tears of shame and humiliation. Him raping me was one thing but pretending that I wanted him to was another form of torture entirely.

He smiled then and slid the knife out of me and threw it carelessly across the kitchen floor. I saw my blood on it. Had he cut something inside me? Stupidly, I wondered dully if we were still going to use it for cooking after it'd been up my ass. This thought made me give out a few hysterical giggles and he seemed pleased with them because he didn't punish me. Just ruffled my hair. 'Good boy.' He praised me like I was a dog while I cringed away from his caresses. Then he reached for the jar of lube he'd naturally brought with him, when he'd dragged me into the kitchen. Started sticking his fingers inside me and stretching me. 'See how good Daddy is to ya, tryin' to make things easier on ya. Don't have to do this, ya know.'

'Fuck you!' I screamed in rage as well as pain.

I got a hard slap for that. 'Tell me again and sound like ya mean it.' He started to pull down his trousers and grease himself up. I trembled because I knew what was coming next.

'I want to hear ya moan, my sweet little whore. Like ya Mama did 'cos she ain't around no more 'cos of ya. Show me ya like it.' He whispered throatily in my ear, already entering me. I stiffened.

'Go on!' He ordered me before he started moving inside me. 'Go on, ya little slut, show ya Daddy ya like fuckin' him.'

And I'm ashamed to say I did what he said. Pretended that I wanted it, that I was enjoying it. I writhed and moaned, begged him for more like I was in training to be the world's greatest prostitute. And any time he thought my enthusiasm was flagging or he wasn't if truly convinced by my act or I cried out in pain - he'd punish me some more. Either by a heavy blow or getting really rough with me - going deeper and deeper until I felt like I was being ripped apart.

Or worse - he'd threaten to fuck me with the knife instead.

Finally - 'Maybe I should cut ya's off - not like ya need it. All I need ya for is ya sweet little mouth and ya tight little asshole.' He wondered aloud between ecstatic groans. 'Maybe I will one day if ya don't play nice.' He threatened, thrusting even deeper into me just before he came.

I whimpered pathetically at that. Hating myself for not being able to stop myself.

'No!' I heard myself scream as I woke up. It had been a nightmare but it was also a memory too – like so many of my bad dreams since his 'punishments' had gone up a whole new level. Because it had really happened - just like that. Word for word, blow by blow and after that time with the knife, I'd bled for weeks afterwards. Was about to go and see the doctor even if they did find out what my my father was doing to me but then the flow suddenly dried up and I breathed a sigh of relief.

I tried to stop myself from shaking and told myself that he was dead – my brother had killed him for me and it was just a bad memory. Then I realised that I was all alone in the car.

Merle! Where the fuck are ya, bro?

In my panic I tried to open the car door – tried to open all of them but he'd locked me in – of course he had.

I told myself that he probably just went to take a piss and suddenly I really needed to go too. We'd drunk all the beer – Merle more than me, of course and I wondered that he was still sober enough to drive. But he never seemed to get affected by beer no matter how much he drank.

ii

Andrea

'Ya got 10 seconds to tell me 'No. We're not gonna do this. Then we'll just get back in the car. If ya don't, it's too late and I'm not gonna stop. 10...9...8...' He was on top of me but apart from that not doing anything.

I looked at him, yanked his lips down to mine by his hair, wrapped my legs round him. My answer was clear.

'What about him?' I pointed to the car.

He sighed, got up and locked the door. Put the keys in his pocket. 'Keep him safe.' He muttered and grabbed my hand and pulled me into the woods. My tried to brush the dirt off from my dress and he smirked. 'Wouldn't bother if I was you.'

He dragged me to a clearing. The full moon illuminated it perfectly and it was a warm summer's night. So romantic. I thought sarcastically.

'How we gonna do this? Ya like it rough ...or not so rough?' He snarled. 'Cos I only do rough.' He sniggered.'In case ya hadn't guessed by now.'

'Rough.' Because Daniel was always so gentle and respectful that sometimes I just wanted to scream when we were together. His soft touches just failed to turn me on at times.

I wanted something else. Wasn't that why I went to that bar alone? Subconsciously planned it so that I wouldn't get a taxi so that I'd be stranded in the wrong place with the wrong people?

Instead I'd met this young, handsome terrifying redneck and his mysterious teenage brother who looked like someone had beaten ten bells out of him. Looked like they were fleeing something.

'OK then.' He slammed me against the tree, just like I'd seen in my fantasy, his hands all over me while his tongue danced in my mouth.

Then he was kissing my neck or more accurately, he was biting it and I knew I would also have bright red hickies tomorrow. Why the hell didn't I bring a scarf?

He attacked my breasts, making me moan and arch my neck. Before he went back to kissing me again.

Then he shoved his fingers into my underwear before checking how wet I was. 'Ready?' he asked when I ground myself against him and moaned. Didn't need to use words.

'Soakin.' He answered his own question.

'Talk to me like you did to your brother.' He drew back. 'What?'

'Use that voice.' I ordered him. He crooned filth to me while he pounded into me against the tree, holding me up there, then he took me and threw me down on the ground. I screamed out my orgasm into the forest. And took me that way. I screamed again.

When we got back to the car, I could hardly walk. Merle smirked at me and we exchanged secret smiles. But then we saw Daryl banging on the window in a panic.

Merle rushed to open the side of his door. 'OK, OK. No need to panic.'

'I had a bad dream and when I woke up I thought you'd gone and left me...locked in here...' He was hyperventilating – his chest hitching in and out.

'Calm down, little brother. No need to get ya panties in a twist.'

Then he saw me in my filthy dress and messed up hair. My face with all smeared make up. No doubt I needed a shower. His eyebrows rose in surprise.'Who...who's she?'

'Someone who's paying us to take her back to Atlanta on our way to...to...' He didn't finish the sentence or bother to ask me my name.

'Andrea.' I introduced myself. The boy looked from me to Merle and rolled his eyes. It was obvious what we'd been doing. 'And you're Daryl, aren't you?'

He nodded and looked shyly down at the ground.

'Nice to meet you.' He said politely without meeting my eyes.

'Same to you.'

'Please.' Merle held the back door open for me. 'Ladies first.' He drawled in mock courtesy. Stressing the word 'Ladies' to let me know that he most definitely didn't think I was one.

I sneered back at him.