Chapter 37 Payback is a real bitch: Part 2

Oh no! Can Daddy Dixon really go the whole way with his son? Poor Daryl! Where the hell is Merle?

Warnings: This is an extremely long and graphic chapter. Same trigger warnings apply.

Please leave a comment and/or kudos or if you can or a review. We'd be very grateful.

Thanks for reading!

I wondered at my father's restraint when I could feel his hard cock urgently pressing against me. Only thing I could do was buy myself some time. I tried focusing on that fruity smell of the oils rather than him.

Also, I stubbornly put on a brave face. 'Cos Dixons weren't no fuckin' pussies. Even though I was breathing fast and shallow and couldn't stop my whole body from trembling with fear. The bastard sensed it and I instinctively knew that it only aroused him even more.

"Chance 3, care to take it?' He retreated a little so thankfully I could no longer feel him. I breathed a deep sigh of relief but it was very short-lived. My father still kept a tight hold on me so I couldn't escape.

'If it's the last chance, what happens if I back out now?' I asked more calmly than I felt. If I kept him talking, maybe he would realize what he was doing and stop. Better than doing nothing.

His chilling reply was: 'Well, ya gonna get fucked one way or another today, boy, don't doubt that. Nothin's gonna change that, 'specially as ya messed up ya first chance to please me.'

I could sense him sniggering behind me as he got back behind me again, this time holding me even tighter. Had his dick got even bigger?

My last shreds of hope were fading fast and I felt the familiar panic rising inside me.

'Daad….' I begged. 'Please. Punish me in any way but that.'

'Told ya the penalties get worse over time. If you pussy out and take chance 3 to back out, I will make things a lot worse for you.'

'What?' I was confused.

'Also, don't cry or plead with me to stop. 'Cos I won't anyway and I'll have to punish ya more.'

He yanked my hair back without warning and left a slimy trail of kisses down the side of my throat. I recoiled in disgust and let a whimper out. I was also wondering what he meant by 'punish me more' – what was worse than being raped by your own father?

'Yeah…making sounds like that ain't turnin' me on, BOY!' He punched me hard in my side, making me gasp to illustrate his point.

He pressed his dick against me harder but miraculously was still not penetrating me just yet. Why was he taking his sweet time? I felt a glimmer of hope because maybe this was just his sick way of scaring me and he wasn't going to go through with it. He'd always been twisted but he wasn't a pervert. Probably was just gonna beat the crap out of me but I could handle that.

Was used to it.

'Why ya doin' this? Want to know if I freak out easily? Ya won't go through with it anyway.' I turned back to glare at him with eyes of famous Dixon steel. I was bluffing – hoping that if I showed him that he couldn't scare me – maybe he would lose interest in this sick game and back off.

'Ya can argue with me if ya feel ya need to. But don't doubt that I'm gonna come inside ya today, boy. And I don't mean in ya mouth.'

I shook my head in horrified disbelief, feeling the bile rise in my throat, still sore from before.

'Where's Merle?'. I managed without a quiver and to distract him. Bastard hadn't let up pushing himself against me. Now I fancied that I could feel part of him in my ass-crack. But that couldn't be true, right?

The whole thing was beyond disgusting.

'Don't worry ya pretty little head with him. I'm sure he's out with those low-lives he calls friends. It's Saturday night after all and the last place Merle would be tonight is at home. See, he don't care 'bout ya. Didn't come back to take the blame for his little brother and protect ya from me, did he? He must have known how I'd punish ya this time now ya of age and what ya gone and done.'

'Did you do this to him as well?" I asked him again in a quiet voice in sudden terror for my brother. Wondering if he'd been through this shit.

'I ain't answerin' that. You ask your brother.' He smirked.

I shuddered. 'Merle...', I whimpered in anguish for him.

If he had, I hadn't noticed anything weird about him. No big changes. But then again, Merle was no touchy-feely guy. If he'd been through the same shit, I knew he would take it to his grave and pretend it had never happened.

If he'd been through this hell, well, it was no wonder he was the way he was. But I also knew he loved me and if he knew what Dad was doing to me, he'd kill him for sure. Part of me wished he would burst in and find us. Make it stop.

Make it all stop for good.

'He ain't comin'.' Bastard read my mind. 'And ya won't tell him anyway, will you, son?' Dad whispered conspiratorially in my ear.

'You don't want anybody to know about how his baby brother sucked their own father off like a little whore with his pretty, little mouth and talented tongue. And you won't want anyone to know about our little secret game. Especially not your precious big brother. You will moan for me in the end, even if you have to fake it.'

To try my luck, I called out to Merle again, in my head. Like I always did. To come and save me. Just couldn't stop myself but I didn't realize I had called his name aloud.

Dad made it very clear that he'd heard me do it as he leaned in close again, mouth close to my right ear. 'Fuckin' little pussy. You want your brother, huh? 'Course ya do. Can't take your punishment like a Dixon and I haven't even started yet,' he snarled at me.

I tensed in anticipation because I thought he was going to punch me again but he stroked my hair instead and funnily enough, this was worse than any blow. He laughed as I cringed as far away as I could from him while he pinned me to the glass table there with his sheer body weight.

I didn't stand a chance.

'Fuck you.' I snarled back. My terror replaced by pure indignation.

But my anger was short-lived when he cuffed me round the head and urged his dick harder against me. 'Oh, you will. Very soon, sweethert.' He crooned in my ear while I shuddered against him.

Letting me know what was coming. What he was going to do to me in a very short while.

'Speaking of Merle, did you boys finish up the toolshed yet?' His incursions against my backside temporarily stopped.

'What?' Why the fuck was he bringing up things as stupid and unimportant and normal like household chores? While on the verge of being about to rape me?

But I thought I knew the answer – the longer he delayed the moment – talked about it – and other normal things - the more my terror and feelings of panic increased.

And the sick bastard was stringing it out to give me a false sense of hope to make it worse when I realised there wasn't any.

Fucking with my head some more by talking about ordinary dumb shit while pinning me naked to the table. Forcing me to feel his hard cock pressing into my bare backside again at the same time.

He slapped the back of my head again. 'Answer me boy!'. He growled at me.

'I don't remember right now.' True I couldn't remember. My mind was veiled in a haze of pure panic and terror. Couldn't think straight then even if I tried.

He slapped the back of my head again but it didn't hurt. For once. 'How can ya forget somethin' like that, dumbass? Either ya did, or ya didn't.'

'Oh, I'm sorry if I don't can think straight right this minute.' I retorted sarcastically.

He suddenly pushed me harder against the table. Letting me know who was boss. As if I could ever forget after this. So, I left out the snarky tone from my voice for my own good and continued, feeling like I was in a dream (more like some sick nightmare) – 'I did the more important stuff, like fixin' that fuckin' piece of shit of a bike Merle calls his. The neighbors been complainin' about it roarin' at night without the silencer on.'

Playing the innocent younger brother usually worked but not this time.

He snorted and leaned forward, making me feel the warmth from his body for the first time. I'd rather have frozen to death. Needless to say, his stench was there but I barely noticed it now.

His fingers played gently with my hair, at the same time his erect dick demanded attention: 'Really? Ya fixed it?'

I decided to play his twisted game. 'Yeah. I finished yesterday. I guess he took it out for a spin, 'cos it ain't there no more.'

'I see. Decidin' what chore is most important is up to ya now, is it?'

To keep myself from biting back an answer, I made do with shaking my head. 'I did it to keep the neighbors off ya back.' I tried to squirm away, frustrated that his grip was so tight that I couldn't move an inch from where I was.

'Well, tomorrow, first thing you do after you wake up is to take that your sorry excuse of a brother with you and fix that shed.'

'I won't forget. Promise.' I tried to appease him so maybe he wouldn't do what he said he was going to do to me. 'Why talk about this shit now?'.

'Don't you be disrespectin' me now, boy. Enough with the foreplay. It's time to spread your legs, little one.'

I nearly vomited at that - not that I had eaten in like – 2 days.

'I wasn't disrespectin' you! Jus' wondering why we were discussing that now!' I foolishly replied. I was desperately kept trying to distract him, to keep him talking. Delaying the moment when he would stick his dick into me. But I ended up doing the opposite according to what he said next.

'Son, I couldn't agree with ya more on that.' He chuckled dirtily.
I struggled to get free from under his weight. He rewarded me by roughly turning me around to face him.

Then he caressed himself first so that I could see. Then, absurdly, he took a few napkins from the table and carefully wiped the blood away from my face with them from where he'd smashed my head onto the table.

When he noticed my shocked expression, he smiled. 'That's right, ya know how much I normally love to watch ya bleed, boy. But right now, I don't want to be looking at ya face looking like that. 'Cos I'd rather see ya bleed somewhere else.'

'You're fuckin' sick!' It made my skin crawl, knowing perfectly well just where. I wasn't that fuckin' innocent, for God's sake.

'I'm startin' to lose my patience. I'm sick of sweet-talkin' ya – waitin' like a gentleman - Jesus – it's like makin' love to a woman. Jus' to break you in. 'Sides, my dick is more than sick of waitin'.'

Then he coated his dick with the bath oil- slathering on thickly right in front of me while I tried to look away in repulsion. Pinning me with his stare rather than his body but I knew that I couldn't run. Never get past him. He followed this action with a crazy laugh that belonged to somebody else.

'See – Daddy's tryin' make it easy on ya, even though you didn't take the last chance to back out.' He looked at me like he was expecting me to be fucking grateful or something.

Sick fuck.

With that, he impatiently shoved me and twisted me round so that I was back on the table.

Without any more preamble, I suddenly felt the head of his cock making its way slowly inside of me. I panicked and tried to buck him off but he slammed my head down brutally down on the table. Then he took his hand away. But he'd made it extremely clear what would happen if I resisted him in anyway.

Despite this, I pushed myself off of the table with all the force I could must and his cock slid out of me as I took him by surprise. I was free! I got so close to the door that I touched the door knob with my fingertips but then his strong arms were wrapped around my hips and were dragging me back to him.

Oh shit, I'm really in for it now!

I could sense his rage and fought as hard as I could! I screamed as a frustrated cry escaped me when he pressed me against him. Then he hissed venomously in my ear. 'Now, you're really in trouble, you little cocktease. 'Cos I was gonna be gentle – slide it in nice and slow - it being ya first time an' all…It is, ain't it, Daryl?' He sneered at me. ''But I ain't gonna do that now.''

He hurled me down with so much force that I lost my breath. I was quaking in abject terror because I knew he was goin' to hurt me – really fuckin' hurt me now. He smiled in triumph as the panic I previously felt, doubled. I tried to find the strength to make a run for it, but before I could try again, I was pinned down – this time - as he straddled me.

'Feelin' stupid, are we? You didn't jus' think that I would let you get away now, did ya?' He put his hand over my mouth, 'Of course ya did. See this as one more lesson, Daryl. Not everythin' always goes the way ya want. But me - I always get what I want, and that includes you and don't you ever forget that. 'Cos ya mine now, ya always gonna be mine after this, even if you get together with a woman and have a family, even when I'm dead and buried and lying in the cold, hard ground. You'll remember this day until you die.'

I sobbed tearlessly at this because I knew it was true. I would always have his mark on me – not just the scars on my back either. Because he'd always be my first.

My own father.

But difference is - I'd never, ever do to my own children the things you've done to me. I thought at him.

He looked at me almost with what looked like pity then and didn't punish me for showing weakness either.

'So jus' do as I say, and I won't make more painful than it has to be.' He continued his surreal lecture.

'First time always hurts the most anyway. And no more tryin' to escape, 'cos I simply won't let ya. No mouthin' off. No beggin' me to stop, 'cos I won't. No cryin' or pathetic whimperin'. Simple things like that, understand, boy?'

I sighed against his palm and nodded, defeated. Just wanted him to get 'my punishment' over with. Why all this talking?

'I admit that you were too much of a temptation – always right in front of me. Ya know, I've been holding myself back for years. If you'd only been a girl...But I'll leave that for later. I've always wanted ya sweet little ass. But to add to the excitement of your first time, get up and stand over there against the wall and face it. Table is too uncomfortable for you.'

He got up with me and offered his hand, I took it while I processed his words. Always wanted me? First time? With an impatient facial expression, he watched me do as he ordered. Now I recognized what had always been in his eyes that I couldn't quite place before.

It had been badly concealed lust.

All the fucking touches and hugging me when I was upset. Had the pervert been thinking of doing this to me the whole time? Why? I was just a little boy. And hadn't he always cursed fags and pansies, so he called them?

Why didn't I back out when I had the chance? Why did I take his hand? Maybe because I thought he wouldn't hurt me so bad if I did - if I appeared submissive.

Why didn't I fight back more? Did I really want him in my subconscious? Why did I have to provoke him by stealing that stupid food and kissing my best friend in the first place to make him want to punish me like that?

What could I have done or said differently?

Didn't matter. I blamed myself.

I was bad, bad…Bad!

I felt his eyes on me, burning a hole in my back when I hesitated.

'Do it!' He barked. I took a few steps closer to the wall and once I got there, I froze. That earned me a rough push forward.

'Don't make me repeat myself, son.'

'Now be a good little slut for ya Daddy and spread those legs', he murmured in my ear.

'I take back the part where I'm not warmin' ya up first. Clearly you really need it, you're so fucking tense and tight. Like a little bitch just before her first time.'

He groaned with lust, his voice husky. I bit my lip at the weird sensations of having a finger deep inside me, and at his words.

His mouth started exploring my shoulders and neck, as he started to breathe heavier. I couldn't help cringing from the trail of slobber he left behind on my skin with his disgusting kisses. 'Fuckin' tasty little bitch. Perfect tight little virgin ass. Perfect. Most importantly, ya hot ass is mine. Ya always gonna be mine 'cos ya'll never forget this. Am I makin' myself clear?'

'Crystal.' I replied more flippantly than I felt, trying to be brave, pretend that my father wasn't going to stick his dick in me. Wishing again that I was somewhere else, or else that Merle would barge in.

'Then, why ya legs still too close together?' He slapped me upside the head.

My mouth opened automatically when I felt a second finger making its way inside of me: 'Dad, please, don't do this!'

That crazy chuckle came again: 'Did I just hear ya beg me to stop like a little cockteaser? Which part of no beggin' did you not understand? I told ya the rules twice. Was I wrong to think you had more going on in your head than ya deadbeat brother?'

My heart skipped a beat in anxiety as my traitorous mouth kept moving and I heard myself say 'Don't touch me there, dad', over and over. I wasn't sure he even heard me because he didn't punish me again. Then came the final hard shove forward together with the removal of his fingers when I still obviously wasn't ready whatsoever for what was coming. And the way he kicked my legs apart – more violently than before while he continued to press me against the wall when I resisted; told me I was going to be punished if I refused to play along.

I screamed aloud in shock seconds later, when he took me by surprise as he entered me with one deep thrust. Not slow and unmoving like the first time he raped me. I held my breath, determined not to make a sound – not to give him the satisfaction. That didn't last long though because the second thrust came just as hard and the third made me howl in pain. I couldn't keep it in and I felt ashamed at my weakness. It didn't make things any easier as he pressed his flushed cheek against my pale one, whispering in an almost tender voice full of concern: 'Does it feel good, sweetheart? You like it don't ya?'

A long moan, and a fourth thrust that interrupted my intake of breath. 'Mmm,mmm I know ya do, 'cos ya Daddy's dirty little slut, ain't ya, son?'

I knew that this was the part where I was supposed to pretend that I liked what he was doing to me. For the life of me, I couldn't bring myself to make any sounds like I heard while watching Merle's porno videos with him, besides focusing on calming my frantic breathing. Just simply trying to breathe. Lowering his voice even more as he buried his face in my hair, he coached me, 'Deep breaths, this is just the beginning, boy. Better learn to deal with it the best way ya can. 'Cos it won't be the last.'

He didn't bother taking the time to let me adjust, just kept going. My whole body went limp. My legs became too weak to support my body properly. I didn't need to worry about that, though. He did a very good job at holding me upright, both with his strong arms, and with his hard thrusts shooting straight up inside me causing my feet to lose contact with the floor.

"D-dad!" My voice thick with tears being stubbornly held back. His warm body against mine made me shiver in his arms.

'Hush now, Daryl. Good boy, it's nearly over.'

'Oh, fuck...I don't...I can't...'

'Hush, ya okay. It'll get easier in time. Slow breaths.'

'Fuckin' asshole! Stop!' I screamed in agony. 'It really fuckin' hurts!'

'It's meant to hurt, dummy.' He mumbled in my ear. 'Oh, son.' He groaned in ecstasy. 'I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear ya tellin' me just now to stop. Besides only a fool would stop now.'

'Fuck you!' I yelled. Rage taking over the pain and humiliation.

'You're mouthin' off again. I'll have to punish ya more if ya keep on.' He warned between groans.

Sick bastard was fuckin' raping me. How could he punish me more?

'I don't care! I got a right to say No!'

'Yeah – say it makes ya feel better. We both know the truth.' He chuckled, now balls deep, thrusting into me deliberately deeper no doubt with an evil smile as I tensed up.

I felt like I was being torn apart from the inside.

Frustrated that I couldn't make him stop, I blurted out: 'I ain't done nothin' to deserve this. I'm sorry for everythin' ya think I did, but please, just fuckin' stop!'

'Stop fighting me, ya stubborn little shit! Ya just gonna have to deal with it. And how dare ya beg like a little bitch?'

But his thrusts momentarily stopped, making me that much more aware of his hands touching me all over. I tried to squirm away, hoping that he had actually listened to me until he angled himself to reach even deeper inside. 'What did I tell ya about ya pathetic attempts to get away, boy? Answer me.'

I hated the defeat in my voice as I replied weakly: 'I'm sorry.'

'Do I need to remind ya of the fact that I gave you THREE chances to back out? Three and a half to be exact and you didn't. Ya wanted this to happen!"

'Yeah but you—'

'You just need to calm down, and let it happen. Deal with it.'

It felt as he was about to rip up my insides only to come out through my throat. His grip on my hips dug deeper into my skin even more as he purred in my ear making me shiver, 'I'm starting to think that ya want this, little man.'

He took a solid grasp of my hair, yanking my head back violently enough to make my neck crack. 'Don't act coy with me, son, I know better. Ya fight and resist only to make me fuck ya harder. Ya like it rough? That it?'
He chuckled, drunk on power and lust this time instead of booze. 'If that's what ya wanted, son, all ya had to do was ask.' He stressed the word son, making it sound all dirty somehow as he chuckled crazily.

He moved faster, deliberately and deeper, the pain making me mentally call out to my big brother like I usually did whenever I was in trouble. Sometimes it worked, though it was a wonder that anything else could enter Merle's mind other than drugs, bikes and getting laid.

'Christ, take it easy, will ya?' My gaze fell upon a lonely lit lamp in an opposite window outside, as he ignored me and kept slamming his way brutally inside me. I just kept hoping that he would come soon – I mean how long did this shit take? I had no idea. And the worst of all was the gentle father-like tone he used as he muttered filth into my ear making the bright light blur and become unfocused as my eyes filled with angry tears full of pain and humiliation.

'Daad...Don't…', I hated the pussy little whine creeping back into my voice.

He got really angry then. 'Ask me to stop again, ya worthless piece of shit and I swear I'll beat your face black and blue once I'm done.'

His grip on my hips tightened as he lost himself in the moment before continuing, 'Ya know what you are, Daryl?'. He panted between his thrusts. 'What ya been to me since ya 11th birthday? Can ya guess?'

I did everything in my power to keep myself from whimpering, since I knew how angry he'd get whenever I did that.

'Fuckable'. His wet tongue licked my nape in a slow swipe. I cringed back but it did no good. He didn't stop. He never stopped. With a throaty moan, he explored my earlobe with his teeth, jus' enough to cause pain. When he did that, I found myself unable to hold back my whimpers any longer. I'd rather do that than vomit, not that I had any food in my stomach anyway.

'That's what best describes you in just one word: totally fuckable. And boy, those girly whimpers – jus' turn me on all the more.'

My nerves were on high alert, here it comes, he's gonna do something that's really going to hurt. I braced myself, inadvertently tightening around his cock - making him moan low in his throat. When nothing came other than more endless thrusts I felt utterly lost.

'Do ya remember how I used to get angry whenever I heard ya make those soft helpless sounds? Just like a little whiny fag? You were 11 the first time I heard ya make them.'

Trailing my scars on my back with his tongue, he whispered nostalgically, 'Remember when I made these?'' And I could feel him smile when he did it, as he continued in a thick voice, with a trace of fatherly affection mixed in with that horrible horny, throaty rasping: 'Of course you remember, after all, you're jus' covered with memories of me.'

I said nothing. Just concentrated on surviving – getting through this ordeal.

'Ya know...I wasn't really angry with you. That sounds jus' made me think about you in a wrong way and you were too young. Ain't now. And I wanted you so badly. Sometimes I wanted to pick you up, didn't matter where we were really, and fuck you against the closest wall. Much like I'm doing now, actually. It's where I dreamed... we would do it.'

With that he sped up, causing the wall to mercilessly grate on the left side of my face with its rough, uneven surface. I focused on a painting nearby instead of on the lamp this time. A picture that had always reminded me of escape, with its high hill and a river disappearing behind it at a different angle. Before it blended into the colors of the background.

The picture made you wonder how far the river kept going. I longed to be beyond that painted green hill, far, far away from here. I was painfully reminded that I couldn't even wish myself away when his fist took hold of my hair again.

My breaths were shaky and I was making noises I didn't know I could make. Annoyed with myself at how weak and vulnerable I sounded, I took another deep breath.

'What the fuck is wrong with you?' I hissed at my torturer. 'This is sick, even for you!'

'This is your punishment, ya dirty little boy, remember? And don't you ever speak to me like that again...' His voice trailed off threateningly.

He used his dick to finish the unspoken threat by thrusting more brutally and deeper inside me this time than I thought he could ever go.

I couldn't help the scream that came out of my mouth.

'Shut up, ya lttle bitch. Ya want the neighbors to hear?' He almost yelled at me and yanked me by the hair viciously to prove his point. 'It's only fuckin'. Get used to it, 'cos it's gonna happen a lot more from now on.'

What? Was he going to do it to me again? I fought the sinking feeling of dread in my stomach.

Besides, I knew nothing I said mattered. How much longer could he keep going? It's got to stop sometime, right? And I was supposed to just shut up and deal with it, like he ordered. If only it was that easy. His bruising grip around my hips, the way he held on tight as if I would vanish into thin air if he didn't... (I had tried to run away after all) help. But what was worse was the lack of air. Each time I tried to take a breath those deep thrusts forced the air out of my lungs in mere puffs. I couldn't expand my chest fully and this added to my sense of my panic.

Not to mention the obvious, he was family – my father to be exact, not just some random pervert on the street. This was a person that shared my blood, someone I lived with or rather, was forced to live with.

Incest. My own father was forcing himself on me. Was inside me.

Though the pain was now easier do deal with, the weird feeling of being stretched and impaled to what felt like breaking point stayed with me. It was enough to make my eyes water up once again. Yet I refused to cry and let him hear it. Certainly, none of this was my fault, I knew it in my mind logically but in my heart? And I did everything in my power to not let those damn tears fall from my eyes.

But it was useless as his relentless, punishing rhythm sent me straight over the edge. He didn't even stop to give me a break or try to make things easier for me. I tried to wipe my tears away without him seeing and lost my balance as I did so. Unfortunately, I interrupted his precious rhythm, so he shoved me harder up against the wall with a growl of rage.

'What the fuck ya doin'?' He hissed in my ear. He used that tone of voice when he was about to give me a particularly harsh scolding. I wasn't allowed to move. Apparently.

'I can't breathe! I feel dizzy!' I protested. And my voice had an uncharacteristic panicky pitch to it that sounded pathetic even to my own ears.

'All that means is I'm fucking you the way a bad little boy like you deserves to be fucked. To be punished. You'll be all right, don't ya worry.' And then he patted my head soothingly but typically now, I flinched at his touch. 'Cos I didn't never want that sick motherfucker touching me ever again.

'Wouldn't want ya to pass out on me. 'Cos I want ya to feel me all the way to the very end.' He crowed.

I clenched my jaws together, to keep myself from saying something stupid. Everything I said seemed to be the wrong thing, anyway.

During the last, disgustingly intimate moment with him, I found out that he really liked it when I made noises of protest or when he forced me to gasp for air. So, I did everything in my power to keep as silent as possible. I didn't want to give the sick bastard any more satisfaction than he was already getting out of this. But I sure as hell weren't in charge as he made very clear again and again.

Whenever he thought I was being too quiet or not reacting in horror enough, he would do something he knew would hurt just to make me scream or let out one of those sissy whimpers.

It did.

I was propelled by a particularly violent thrust that caused me to smash my face against the wall. I saw stars and my vision threatened to black out on me.

He was so into it that he didn't even notice as he gripped my hair so tightly that it felt as if he was about to scalp me.

'Fuck, I love your hair, and to see ya bleed. It's a sin how fuckin' hot you are and both together just makes me wanna eat ya right up.'

He twined our hands together in a tight grip, even though I desperately tried to pull away, with his lips disgustingly intimate pressed up against my cheek. His hips made a few final snapping jerks and he finally came. Pulling out of me ironically was the only time he bothered to be gentle. My legs finally failed to hold me up and wanted to sink to the floor. But his arms were tight around me the whole time, and he went down with me as if he never wanted to let me go. Freak made sure he was still on top of me, still pinning me down even then so that I wasn't free of him. I took shallow shaky breaths, while he breathed hard against my neck.

'I'm proud of you, son - you passed the test. Now, stand up.' He ordered as he thankfully got off me.

I frowned in confusion as I staggered up on my sore legs. What was the test? Him raping me and forcing me to have my first time with him? I didn't fuckin' know.

And my eyes desperately searched the room for a weapon – anything I could use – after all, he said he was going to do it to me again- before it hit me. I'd stupidly left my knife in my room when I'd been tempted - oh so many times to use that thing to defend myself. When he was beating on me so bad that I was afraid he was going to kill me, for example. But something always stopped me. Because he was my Dad...maybe I was afraid to hurt him? I laughed bitterly inside at this thought. Because apparently, from this moment on, I was always going to keep that thing with me when he was around.

The blood running down my face felt disgusting. But it was nothing compared to the feeling of the sticky, warm fluid running down my inner thighs. His filth. I grimaced at the sensations, too embarrassed to meet his eyes. Looking around though, I saw a small dishtowel hanging over a chair not far from where we were standing. I moved quickly towards it. But turning my back to him clearly made the fucker see red and he thumped his open palm on the table, stopping me dead in my tracks.

He was soon by my side though, holding me back while I flinched away from his touch. 'Don't you dare clean yourself up. Don't even move until I give you fuckin' permission.' He sternly forbade me.
He turned me around to face him, stepping back to have a better look. The shame burned red on my cheeks as my eyes searched for something to latch on to.

Rather than look at him.

'Well, well, ain't you a sight? Bleedin' beautifully, ain't ya?'

I knew I wasn't supposed to answer that, so I kept my eyes on the floor. 'But I wonder...' He tilted my face up as he smirked, 'were you just too overcome with shock to cry?'

'I don't fuckin' cry. I'm a Dixon.' I growled at him.

'We'll see. I'm not quite done with you yet.'

'Then fuckin' get on with it!' I spat, not caring about the consequences anymore. Or even what he else he was going to do to me. What else could he do, anyway?

Little did I know.