Pain split through my skull as I attempted to move, to wake up, to feel more than just that. I felt my surroundings come into the equation as I started to come back into consciousness. It was cold, dark and dead. I slowly opened my eyes and tried to focus on where I was, but it was impossible, it was too dark. I tried to sit up but I found myself unable; I was bounded to something.
"Why, good morning, slut!" In a flash the lights turned on and I was blinded for a multiple of seconds, everything was nothing but yellowish white spots. "How did you sleep, you little fucker? Did you sleep good? Hmm… Hey, I'm talking to you, skank!" He kicked me in the rib causing me to hiss in pain, he smirked.
Getting my eyesight back I found myself horrified to my core; I was in the one room that I never wanted to see: My father's dungeon. The walls were covered in all kinds of sex toys and BDSM shit. I myself was on a metal slab in the middle of it; the place where he would take his prostitutes to play. I was terrified.
Was he, my own father, going to rape me?
"Are you scared, uke?" He teased, tracking my leg. It was then that I realized I was almost nude; I was in nothing but the lace that Fleetway had given me. I was shaking bad, his touch was disgusting. I wanted Fleety; I wanted him to hold me and protect me. "Oh looky, you're shaking like the bitch who gave birth to you~"
I cried out as he sank his claws into my leg, drawing blood. I bit my lip as tears formed in my eyes; I didn't want to lose my innocence by to father! His smirk grew as he trailed a bloody claw up my thigh and up to my waist, stopping at my scars.
"I remember giving you these," He traced them, pressing hard with his nail. I tried to turn my face away, but he forced me to look at him in the eyes. "Don't look away, boy. The parties only starting, darling~" As he said that a man came out with a silver platter, his face covered with shadows. Opening the cover relieved a hammer, dirty and rusted. I shook; my eyes wide with tears of terror. "Let's have some fun~!"
He brought the hammer down and my entire right leg was burned by hellfire. I screamed so hard and the torture was so great that it was even pain anymore. The only feeling from my waist down was blistering white assault, I struggled against the bondage that held me in place. My throat pulsed with pain as screams and cries escaped it at a burning rate, tears cascading like a waterfall. All I could hear was my father's insane laughter and the sound that the hammer made against my leg.
Blood splattered from what once was my right leg; it was nothing more than jellitone now. It was smashed; my entire femur was shattered into millions of microscopic bits. I couldn't see through all the tears, but I saw the red.
"Oh, my boy, isn't this fun?" He chuckled looking at the mess he made. "I wonder what your little boyfriend would think of this? Or should I call him your slave master?" He pressed the bloody hammer head to my cheek. "I wonder what he would say if I smashed your little skull and made it look like your leg?"
I couldn't speak….
I couldn't move….
I shook….
I cried…..
No matter what I did he would never stop trying to make my life a living hell, a prisoner in my own skin.
He pulled the weapon away from my face and tossed it to the floor, it hitting with a thud. I silently watched as my father walked up the stairs with the man, leaving me on the bloody slab of metal. He was a bastard, an asshole, and I wanted him dead. I felt myself get dizzy, my eyesight dieing. I closed my eyes, submitting to the darkness that lied underneath.
