Chapter 38: Loss

Well, what will be the consequences of Will's violation for Daryl? Nothing good, surely. Will he do it again? His father isn't even finished with him yet. What else can evil Will Dixon do?

When will Merle come home? Will he catch them? What will he do if he does?

Part 2 is the aftermath of what Will has done according to his POV. Poor, poor Daryl. Writing this makes me want to cry for him.

*Includes harrowing and graphic description of child rape, incest and physical abuse. Please don't read if you will be triggered.

Any reviews including constructive criticism are welcome. Thanks for reading! Please let us know how you feel about the story even if you don't like it. It makes our work worthwhile.

x x x

Part 1:

Daryl

Bleeding from numerous places, jaw still aching from his careless invasion of my mouth and throat, covered in his disgusting body fluids, not least saliva from his damp kisses, all I wanted to do was have a long, hot shower.

My sick father just stood staring at me like he was proud of me or something.

My fingers reached for my bathrobe that was sprawled across the floor.

Bad move.

'Leave it! Didn't say nothin' about you getting' dressed, Daryl', he ordered me in a low and dangerous voice meaning his patience was running out now more than ever. Then he closed the short distance between us in a couple of strides to slap my face hard for my insolence.

'What if Merle…' I tried.

'You're right, put it back on and go up to the bathroom. Start filling the tub with some nice hot water and that raspberry bubblebath. I'll be there in a minute and when I am, that robe better be off ya hot little body again.'

Before I could do what he said, he was kind enough to clean the blood off my face. That did little to make me feel better, knowing that this sick torture wasn't over yet.

I left him with a gloating smile full of lustful anticipation after he stroked my cheek while I flinched back, making him laugh as he handed me my robe. 'Go!'.

What else did he have planned? Fuck me again in the bathtub?

I shuddered. Because I couldn't go through that again so soon after. I was still so sore.

I felt numb and my mind was blank as I filled up our big, old-fashioned bathtub and put in some bubble bath. We'd inherited it from Grandma otherwise we'd probably have to stick to only having showers, never could have afford something nice. It was wasted on the Dixons – Dad rarely let us use it, said it used too much water. He allowed us showers only begrudgingly for the same reason. I stayed clothed as long as I could but when I heard him thumping up the stairs, I was forced to let the dressing-gown drop and get into it. The warm water soothed the worst of my aches and pains but made my most intimate parts – the newly violated ones - stung like hell. Normally, I would have sunk back in the water with a long sigh of contentment at actually being allowed to bathe but not this time. I was too full of dread. I fought the impulse to reach out and grab it to cover myself.

When my father came in, naked of course, I looked away and curled up into a ball. Trying to make myself as small as possible.

He smiled proudly, 'There's no need to hide, son. Look at ya, waiting for me, like a good boy.'

Pushing me forward to give himself space, he sank down behind me and patiently forced me to uncurl from foetal position. Then, with two fingers on my forehead he gently tilted my head backwards to lean it against his chest. A position I was used to as a child, back when he was nice. Back then, there was nothing weird about it. He'd just been normal, a proud dad taking a bath with his small son. Now, it was downright disturbing since we hadn't done that since I was about 10 and now, he was pressing his spent dick against my back.

And I was nearly an adult.

My heart skipped a beat as I heard the front door downstairs bang open, and we heard a load, 'Hey, I'm home!'. Merle was drunk, and probably high too.

Merle! Merle! I cried out to him but only in my mind because my father was already covering my mouth with his hand. Then we heard him slam the front door and I heard his tell-tale boots stump into the kitchen. Probably to get a cold beer.

I could feel Dad's heart start to beat a little faster at Merle's arrival, too. But then he relaxed, no doubt he'd already thought up a convincing story if he needed one why me and him were sharing a bath together. Bastard had brought the same small bottle of bath oil he'd used as lube on me and now he was using it to sponge me down. His fingers trailed along my shoulders lazily and left bubble-bath foam all over my upper-body. But the pungent pineapple and mint oil drowned out the mild raspberry bubble-bath.

Fuck! I hate that smell. I always would after that day but at least it wasn't like you smelt it everywhere.

I must have drifted somehow, 'cos before I knew it, he was right in front of me, curling his index finger silently to motion me to stand up. I briefly closed my eyes, and silently cursed Merle for not walking in on us - him. Well, of course the door was locked but this only made everything the more frustrating. Merle had drunk so much, didn't he need a piss after coming in? Unfortunately, not today. But if I knew Merle, he had already popped open a beer, and sat down in front of the TV with his big, dirty boots on that very table Dad had fucked me against. No doubt well on his way to passing out soon.

No help to me.

I tightly clenched my jaws together, determined not to make a sound. It felt like the bastard had pushed something up inside me, coated in acid. I struggled not to cry out.

A burning sensation so intense that I wanted to instinctively sink back into the warm water for some relief, though I very much doubted it would've helped. But it made me open my eyes fully and snap back to reality, only to be greeted with the madness and hunger reflected in his. 'Dozin' off for a minute there, were you? I ain't surprised – you must be wiped out.'

He snapped his fingers right in front of my face. 'But I'm glad to have ya back.'

The he continued to make circular movements with the sponge down my back while he suddenly scissored his fingers in the deep places where I was hurt the most. The shock and pain of it made me cry out, despite myself. I had no idea that he could hurt me more than he already done.

'Poor little thing, so sore.' A malicious smile curled his lips as he looked up at me slyly. 'And ya big brother in the house but no help to ya.'

But then I heard Merle's quick footsteps approaching us as he banged loudly on the bathroom door. I thought hopefully at first that maybe he wanted to use the toilet.

'That you, Daryl? What ya doin' in there? You OK?'

His bad slurring crumbled any hope I had into dust.

Did Dad sense this because crooned at me and stroked my hair gently, like he used to when I was upset.

The options briefly flashed through my mind whether I should spill my guts or keep quiet. Dad's glare was telling me what to do but at least his damn fingers had stopped moving inside me. But they were a warning too.

I imagined what I would say to my brother.

'Yeah, I'm fuckin' peachy, bro! Hope you had a great night out and thanks for just leaving me and not bothering to check if I managed to get away or not. I didn't. So a cop brought me home but just always make sure you save your sorry skin first and don't worry about me. And Dad was really mad about that and decided to rape me today as punishment and now he's got his fingers inside me while we're sitting in the bathtub together.'

But another death-stare warning from Dad, accompanied by a slow shake of his head and an additional finger threatening to make its way inside to join the other two...I made up my mind fairly quickly. 'I'm fine, Merle. Jus' soap in my eyes.'

I rolled my eyes at the lame excuse and right on cue, my brother laughed. 'You jus' got soap in ya eyes, Darlena?'

Dad chuckled and whispered, 'Ya can always count on Merle!'

I badly wanted to struggle away from him then but the silent threat of his fingers prevented that.

Dad continued his hateful one-sided conversation.

'Remember this day, Daryl whenever ya pretty little self wants to tell someone what we did in a sad little attempt to make the pain go away.' He sneered and leaned in closer, cheek against mine while I recoiled.

What we did? I wondered incredulously?

Next he whispered, 'I'm going to let ya in on a little secret of mine. The pain won't go away.'

Lowering his voice even more, he added the little but oh so powerful word - 'Ever.'

I shook my head and broke my vow of silence and hissed 'That ain't true!' Meanwhile, apparently not hearing us and giving up, Merle stomped back down the stairs.

'Why do ya think I did it to ya? Not jus' 'cos ya the hottest little piece of ass there ever was.'

''Cos I made ya', He added, talking to himself. He leered at me then and traced the outline of my lips with his finger just like before while he scissored me inside.

Again.

I couldn't help it this time either. I let out an even louder breathy scream of pain. I guess the bastard thought he was safe now we heard Merle clumping into the living room. Still, I hoped that Merle would somehow hear us and the stupid dumbass would realise and break down the bathroom door. Didn't he need a piss by now? Didn't he think in his foggy brain that it was weird that I was in there all this time with no shower running? Or wonder where Dad was?

Merle - save me.

No answer. I loved my brother but right then I think I hated him a little.

'Now let me finish this and stop ya fussin'.' The bastard interrupted my thoughts.

By the time it took for him to be done with this new type of torture with his fingers, he'd made me cry. He didn't even say sorry or comfort me (not that I wanted him to touch me) like he used to after a 'punishment'. I guessed that was his motive, not let me go until he finally brought me to tears when even him raping me hadn't.

Well, he succeeded.

He let the plug out and scooped me up in his arms in a big towel. This was the ultimate humiliation for me, and by pure reflex I kicked and yelled at him. 'Put me down damn it, I ain't a child!'

'Careful, now. Ya don't wanna worry ya brother. He might think I'm carryin' ya 'cos ya done gone blind from all the soap in ya eyes.' Laughing as he demonstrated his strength by holdin' me with one hand, at the same time ruffling my hair with the other. Being touched in these 2 different places at the same time by him made me feel sick.

His grip tightened around my struggling body as he dragged me out of the bathroom. When we got to my bedroom, I couldn't wait for him to get the hell out of there. I nearly got him with a kick that would no doubt have hurt if it had actually managed to hit him.

'Put ya pyjamas on.' He lowered his voice. Though Merle was still piss-drunk, he still had ears.

I couldn't move.

'Or do ya want me to put them on you for you, boy?' His eyes flashed lasciviously and I knew he was looking for any excuse to do just that.

'No! Fuck off!' I screamed back at him and found myself backing away from him just from panicking at the thought of his groping hands. It was dangerous, swearing at him and yelling – he was afraid my brother would hear. I just couldn't hold back my rage at what he'd done to me and then being put to bed early like a misbehaving child.

But he just smirked condescendingly at me. 'Stop fightin' or you'll make me hard again. And I can still fuck ya before I tuck you in. Would you like that? Jus' think about how much my two fingers hurt you. Imagine what it would feel like havin' me deep inside of ya again, hmm?'

Tuck me in? It could only be 8pm at the latest judging by the light outside. I shuddered and couldn't help the whimper that passed my lips when he brought up the things he'd done to me. I tried to turn my head away but of course, he forced me to look at him.

That insane, grotesque chuckle left his mouth as he felt my body tense up. I couldn't beat him and besides, I was exhausted and hurting everywhere anyway. Before he pulled the covers up to my chin, he smirked disturbingly at me with twinkling eyes from the cheesiest Santa Claus card.

'I'd advise you to sleep with one eye open. Wouldn't want to startle you.' I trembled with fear. How the hell was I supposed to sleep now, knowing he may come in during the night to mess with me again?

He murmured 'Good night' with his mouth pressed hard against my forehead and left. After he was gone, I furiously scrubbed at the place on my skin that his filthy lips had touched. But I could still feel them burning as his words left me with a tight knot in my stomach.

And he did come back.

Part 2:

Will's POV

He went down like a sack of potatoes on his bed. His son had really worn him out. Though truth be told when he thought more about it, he could probably squeeze in one more round with the boy before he went to sleep. He felt his dick harden at the prospect and nearly got up to go to Daryl's room but then he thought better of it. The boy must still be in pain and he couldn't do that to him. He had a hard time deciding if Daryl's punishment for the shoplifting and giving the authorities more ammunition against the Dixons was now finally over. Although it had been Merle's fault too, at least partly for not keeping his little brother safe and out of trouble.

Then the incident with the teacher not to mention flaunting his hot little ass in front of his father shamelessly over the years. All of these crimes made up Will's list of reasons why and he'd still held back, not touched him, not done a fucking thing. But seeing the little fag kiss the other boy and let him run his hands all over him had been the final straw. So, at first, convincing himself that the little slut had already done it and that he needed curing of the fag sickness, he'd finally given into his desires and gone the whole way with his son.

But he knew deep down that his son was still innocent.

And it wasn't like he could punish his older son - that boy was likely to give as good as he got these days. With a sigh of frustration, the elder Dixon also admitted that he would have to give Daryl some time to heal.

His racing thoughts dwelled on his small sixteen-year old son as he stared at the ceiling, recalling how much he'd been unable to control himself in the end. All his previous inhibitions vanished into air when he finally had his son right where he wanted him. He told himself that he'd started off slow, only having Daryl touch him at first. Damn fine handjob whatever he had told him. Then one thing led to another and before he knew it, Will had forced his dick into his mouth. He had quickly lost control after that because his son had skills he never thought possible and that made him even madder. To him, it was obvious someone else had coached his son ecause the one time with Mike hadn't been enough.

The father, desperate to justify what he was doing, had painted all of Daryl's reactions and his responses to this treatment more willing if a little reluctant at first in his mind. After all, he was his father. Thinking of him as more experienced also helped ease his conscience.

He had deliberately mistaken the muffled sounds of protest Daryl made low in his throat as moans, his hands pushing at his thighs as an invitation for him to push further in. To Will's surprise the boy could take it too, even though it all made the tears leak out at the corners of his eyes when Will had forced his face up, tilted upwards sadistically, for him to get a better look at his expression while he fucked him. Will even took the terrified whimpers when he entered him as moans of want and anticipation.

Of course, the boy had to play the unwilling victim and Will's dream had been the premonition and proof that his son really wanted it.

All of it.

Must be something to do with being forced to hold back so long.

Will found that he wanted to hear more of those sissy sounds Daryl made that he had previously loathed and taken measures to beat out of him. Now, all he felt was a thrill of pleasure. Especially when his son was unable to stop a whimper or other pathetic sounds escaping him.

He'd enjoyed it especially when Daryl resisted, even daring to fight against him even when he knew he didn't have a chance in hell. Struggling and trying to buck his father off. Or by doing the exact opposite, when his body would seem to almost fold in on itself in submission into Will's arms.

Or that's how his father chose to interpret it.

He smiled as everything came back to him, he could replay the whole thing in his head without problem. As it was happening, he was been too caught up in it to pay very much attention to details. However, Will seemed to have an almost photographic memory when it came to his son.

The memory in particular when he had his son hard against that wall, kicking his legs apart as he entered him without mercy made his dick twitch. And the desperate whimper of horrified disbelief from his son when he felt his father inside him fully for the first time. After that first shock, Daryl had stubbornly tried to keep his mouth shut, mostly succeeding. Will, in his anger at the lack of response, had put as much force into his thrusts as he possibly could.

He had been conflicted at first, wanting to be as gentle as possible with the boy, not hurting him more than he had to, but then he'd got carried away by the excitement of finally doing to him what he'd dreamt doing for years.

It was meant to be a punishment after all.

He had his son howling in pain soon enough. His legs failed him somewhere during the first few seconds, but Will had held him upright without a problem. If he closed his eyes and focused, the scent of his son filled up his nostrils. He breathed in sharply, he was no fool, of course he was aware of the fact that with this one act of brutality, this single slip of control, he'd destroyed the little love that the boy still had for him forever; despite all the abuse he'd already been forced to endure at his hands. But with Merle it had always been different, he took pride in being a badass. His brother, on the other hand, though he was tougher than Will gave him credit for was easier to manipulate and persuade. Well, he was 5 years younger. Besides, he smiled to himself at the fond memories, Daryl would never say 'No' to his father showing him a little affection and giving him comfort, even though he might play hard to get at first and be angry. But he could never resist his father for long, not with Will crooning to him, telling him how sorry he was that another 'punishment' had got out of hand, stroking his hair and touching him gently in the ways he knew he liked. Making all the kinds of pain fade away. Whereas Merle would only swear at him and give him the finger.

It probably had something to do with Daryl losing his mother so young. In any case, Will had enjoyed what they did after a beating or whipping that he let go too far, just so he could cuddle his teenage son on his lap even though he was far too old to be coddled like a baby by his father. Especially as a Dixon. Not least also because Will couldn't deny that he'd usually get turned on by holding him on his lap, especially when the boy occasionally moved against the hardening bulge in the front of his pants. Still so innocent, he never seemed to notice the effect he had on his own father and Will would struggle to disguise his growing excitement. This too, was added to the mental list of his younger son's crimes against him that Will kept, constantly returning to add to it. Until it had grown and grown and now resulted in him giving him the ultimate punishment.

He'd taken the leap into the unknown, but he wouldn't take it back for all the money in the world. It simply needed to be done, for his own sanity. He couldn't help but feel a bit excited at the same time, wondering how all of this would end. How long would it take Merle to notice something was wrong, how bold could Will be with Daryl? It was going to be fun messing with his precious baby brother right in front of him. Will already had the boy good and scared, full of shame thinking it was his fault so the little pussy wasn't going to tell anyone what his Daddy did to him.

He smiled as he recalled Daryl making mistake after mistake, unable to follow the rules that had been explained numerous times to him already. Deep down Will had known that he couldn't expect anything from him. Given the circumstances, Will knew that he was being unnecessarily harsh and unfair but he just couldn't help himself.

He got excited by the memories to say the least as he got up from his bed. He hadn't only intended to creep out his son out and fuck with his head when he told him that he'd been wanting him for so long that now he couldn't seem to get enough. It was true. Now that he'd crossed that line and finally gone and done it, there was really no reason for him to hold back anymore.

Moving as quietly as possible, he made his way to his son's room across the landing but peeked in on Merle's next door beforehand. Getting a clear view of his other son through his open door. It was early but his other son was sprawled carelessly on top of the covers, fully-clothed with his boots trailing over the edge of the bed, alone for once. Will had to stifle a laugh at the sight. That boy was out cold for sure, beer-bottle clutched in his hand, head tilted back in a nasty uncomfortable angle, with his mouth slightly open. No help to his brother, he smirked, and no threat to his father. His trademark hoggish snores didn't fail to disappoint either.

The father carefully avoided the creaking boards until he was left staring at the door keeping him from his youngest son behind it. He decided against entering as he clutched the door-handle with a hand trembling in anticipation. Without even straining his hearing, his son's sobs where easy to detect.

Will sighed, he didn't mean for it to go so far, or to be so rough with him. It all had started with him wanting to humiliate and punish the boy by only making him strip. But by doing that, he was testing himself and he'd failed, miserably.

Will's features contorted into a grimace of pity when the sobs didn't cease but only kept increasing in intensity. What the fuck had he done? He knew that he'd hurt him pretty badly when the lust took over. The boy's pathetic pleas for him to stop and cries of pain would normally have got to Will, succeeding in rousing his father's protective instincts that used to stop him from going further. Daryl was his baby after all and he knew he must have really been in a lot of pain as he rarely cried or begged for mercy no matter how brutal the punishment. Like when Will whipped him with his belt buckle multiple times when he was only 11. Daryl was tough as nails like that – he was a true Dixon.

But this – this was different.

His intentions to make it easy on his son had all flown out of the window when he realised to his delight that it was indeed his first time. The excitement of the boy still being pure and him being the first to rob Daryl of his innocence had all been far too enticing. To be inside his own flesh – so to speak - was a pleasure that couldn't be matched except for him not having more 'feminine' charms. Truth be told, Daryl being a boy only seemed to add to his disturbing want. He'd dealt with the reasons a long time ago, he sure as hell weren't no fag, but his son rendered him a hypocrite.

Will's hand tightened on the door-handle and for a moment he was torn between wanting to comfort his son and the novelty of taking him again but this time in his own bed which was very tempting. Especially with his protective big brother snoring away, oblivious next door. But the irreparable damage he'd already done to him combined with the shame, had his boy – a Dixon- in tears and incredibly it made him reconsider. Still, that had been only mostly because of what he did to him afterwards in the bathtub with his fingers.

Listening to his youngest son's sobs grow more and more desperate, even though he could tell that he was desperately trying to muffle them made Will genuinely afraid that the boy might do something stupid – like hurt himself. He knew Daryl wasn't as strong as his father or his big brother. But then Will had never punished – he shook his head then, forcing himself to call it for what it was –¬ he'd never raped Merle no matter what he implied to his brother that day just to fuck with his head.

Contrite now, he promised himself that he would never, ever hurt Daryl again in any way. Instead, he would make it up to him somehow, make Daryl love and trust him again. Just given time, he'd succeed, if he played his cards right. Daryl always forgave him before – even the permanent scars on his back – even those on his chest from the knife - why not this? After all, he had finally got what he wanted from him and once should be enough, shouldn't it? He knocked on his door softly.

'Daryl, son, ya OK?' The tortured, boyish sobs on the other side of the door suddenly went quiet.

No answer. Did Will really expect one?

'Baby, ya OK?' Will didn't know why he called him that – it had just slipped out. He'd meant it tenderly but after what he'd just done, he could only imagine how it must sound like to his son.

'Don't call me that, sick bastard! Fuck off!'

'Right, that does it!'

Will burst in through the door enraged that he still had fight in him – shouldn't what he had done to him have cowed the boy forever? He was also nervous in case his other son woke up. As Daryl prepared to take a deep breath to holler for his big brother, he quickly pounced on him and covered his mouth. Of course, the feeling of having Will on top of him again caused him to try to get free helplessly but his sounds of protests was muffled by his father's hand.

'Sh...sh...ain't gonna hurt ya none. It'll never happen ever again. Daddy'll never do it ever again. Promise.'

His son still continued to struggle, apparently unreassured even by this promise until Will, hating himself for it in a dramatic turnaround, whispered in his ear, 'Carry on fightin' me, and I'll jus' punish ya again like I did today. Would ya like that, son?'

Daryl shook his head vigorously from side to side as his eyes widened in terror.

'Now, ya ain't gonna scream and bring ya big brother runnin' in here when I take my hand away, are ya, son? He won't hear ya anyway, believe me.'

Daryl, a little calmer now, shook his head again.

'Good boy.' Will soothed as he drew back his hand from his mouth and Daryl kept true to his word. Of course, he did, he is a Dixon, Will thought smugly to himself, regretting ever saying that he wasn't.

But the fear was still in his eyes and Will cursed himself for putting it there. He really did love the boy, more than he'd ever loved his brother. Suddenly overcome by a moment of guilt and tenderness, he stretched out a hand slowly not to startle him. He'd only meant to touch his cheek but Daryl immediately jerked away. Will had an epiphany then that Daryl would never lean into his touch. He certainly wouldn't snuggle up to him trustingly while Will held him on his lap. Daryl would never, ever forgive him, in fact.

It had been their secret thing, particularly after a beating went too far. Merle had never seen them like that together – Will had made sure – only done it when the older boy was out – except after Mike. But now he realised that what he had done had ruined that forever. Will felt a moment of panic and remorse at the realization that he would never be able to touch his youngest ever again without force, or without scaring him. From that day on, no matter his intentions, Daryl would always think he was going to get hurt in more ways than one.

Will sighed but didn't try his luck again, just sat on the edge of his son's bed still covered with the Spiderman quilt that he'd had since he was 5. Reminding Will that Daryl was only a kid and still kind of looked like one.

'Ya know, it's ya own fault I had to punish ya like that! The cops'll be crawling all over us more than ever now!' His raised voice caused his son's lips to tremble and the tears looked like they were ready to return in his red, wet eyes. They flashed in fear and Will noticed he was trembling badly as he drew back as far away from him as he could against the wall.

Will didn't mention Eric. Or the fact that Merle had been the main trouble-maker over the years with his drugs and drinking, even spending time in Juvie.

'And for flauntin' yaself in front of me all those years in ya tight little boxers and those tiny white towels of yours…'

Daryl's mouth was working silently now and his shaking got more pronounced while Will wiped away the drool from his own that had collected there.

Remembering how hard it had been to keep himself off his son previous to this, he suddenly lashed out: 'I didn't do nothin' then! You fuckin' remember that, boy, in future! I was good to ya.' He raged.

But Daryl, instead of being guilt-stricken and grateful to him at these words as Will intended, bristled as he snarled back, 'No, ya weren't! Always beatin' the shit out of me! Now this! Ya fuckin' sick!' He paused before he glared in such rage and contempt at his father that even Will recoiled instead of punishing him because he'd never seen that expression on his sweet son's face before. On Merle's – for sure, usually after Daryl bore the brunt of their father's anger.

Now the teenager was looking older than his years, especially when he sneered, 'What ya gonna do, Dad? Fuck me again?' Daryl's eyes hardened further in cold, crystal sharp rage as the last trace of fear vanished and he taunted Will with bitter mockery.

Will suddenly felt a surge of pride at the Dixon spirit the boy was finally showing even as his hands itched to slap his son's face bloody for this show of defiance.

Instead of beating the boy black and blue like he would have done under normal circumstances, Will even winced at the word 'fuck' to describe what he'd done to him that day, while his son shot looks of pure contempt back at him. Will could only take so much, seeing his son sporting that defiant look all over his face, even though he was terrified, spoke volumes about his strength. Will gave a little smile as he saw his next pretext for continuing this new and longed for punishment. He needed to break the boy to really teach him his lesson because it seemed that even what he'd done to him that day hadn't been enough. He was still showing disrespect. He'd expected Daryl to be emotionally numb and absolutely petrified after what he'd done to him.

Watching his son nervously fiddling with his bedcover between looking up at him alerted Will. It was obvious he was going to try something. The man got himself ready for it, carefully trying to look unconcerned or not like he was measuring him up.

It didn't take long either before Daryl got up and made for the door with some difficulty, not moving at his usual speed because he was clearly still in pain. He was an easy target for his father who was by his side in no time at all. Cursing, Will had him by his waist but not before he managed to yell for his brother before he could stop him. Will then threw him on the bed on his stomach, and snarled in his ear as he got on top of him.

'Now why would ya go and do somethin' stupid like that, and make ya Daddy mad, huh? 'Cos ya really want this, that's why. So stop actin' like I hurt you and you're scared of me! 'Cos you wanted it as much as I did today, you know ya did - so don't pretend I forced ya!'

Daryl just lay there under him, drained of energy and fight. He didn't even try to deny it or bother answering this, his father's latest outburst of insanity.

He started to breathe rapidly in panic and Will could easily feel him trembling again beneath him. Even though Will knew his son was already scared out of his wits at what he was implying he was going to do to him again, he still needed to punish him for his insolence. If only to subdue him.

He leaned forward, smirked as he could feel Daryl's shudders and flipped him over easily. They rapidly increased at this and got even more violent when he hissed into his ear: 'Yeah, maybe I will fuck ya again now. Would ya like that, son?' He felt himself getting hard again at the thought and pulled down his own pants, letting Daryl feel him.

His son for his part, shut his eyes tightly and started to whimper in terror but still he refused to struggle or beg.

Suddenly, Will felt desperate to hear him do just that, so he upped his game by grinding himself into his backside in silent threat while he grabbed hold of Daryl's hair and pulled it.

'You like that, boy?' He taunted his hyperventilating son, deliberately keeping him pinned and unable to move to increase his fear.

'You know I don't!'

Will just smirked as his hands disappeared under Daryl's shirt, running his hands all over his chest and stomach as he flinched and squirmed away, desperately trying to escape those greedy hands slithering all over him. He tried to get up again. But Will determinedly pushed him down, squeezing his throat with one hand while the other continued caressing that delicious, baby-smooth skin (except for his back, of course – he didn't touch that) and wherever else he could reach.

'N..no, please, Dad...Stop.'

Now he did beg, and it was music to his father's ears. 'You want it, don't ya? Tell Daddy, it's OK.' Will gently coaxed but he did take his hands away only to stroke his hair. He soon stopped though when he was met with his son flinching away from his touch. Will realised that he'd have to get used to that now. But still he pinned him down with his much heavier body.

'N...no...I don't! Get off me.' He saw with satisfaction that Daryl couldn't hold back the tears of terror and shame anymore when they started to leak out of the corners of his eyes, running down onto the pillow.

'Stop fuckin' cryin'. Said I ain't gonna do nothin'.' Will hissed impatiently at him as he reluctantly did what he was told and got off his son.

'Not tonight anyway.' He grinned when he saw his son's chest – hitch at that. 'But ya jus' remember what I can do next time ya disrespect me in future, boy.' He threatened as he pulled up his pants while Daryl snorted in disgust.

'I'm gonna be nice even though ya sassed me jus' now.' He reached over to grab him by the chin and forced him to look at him. Will couldn't resist licking away his tears with his tongue with his eyes closed, relishing their salty taste while Daryl cringed and whimpered. He opened them again to eye-ball his petrified son once more. 'I don't want to wait a long time for ya to heal up before I have another go at ya, but who knows. Keep on like ya doin' and I won't care 'bout that. Ya won't be able to walk for a week afterwards, ya hear?'

He continued, 'I know you mus' be hurtin' a lot as it is– it bein' ya first time 'n' all.' He jeered. 'It was, wasn't it, Daryl?' He sneered. 'You didn't let that teacher ...or ya …did ya?' He asked in mock delicacy before he sighed, taking in the way his son shook his head and his panicked expression. 'Can't hurt ya no more tonight, can I? Might rip ya apart. I'm not a monster. I guess Daddy'll jus' have to make do with the memory of what we did today when he's jerkin' off in his bed tonight.'

Daryl shuddered in revulsion at that image and turned his head to the wall again. To make his point even more clear, Will couldn't resist and groped him roughly, this time more intimately down between the legs without warning, while Daryl cried out and shuddered in vain, squirming to get away. Will didn't punish him for either of those things like he usually did – he had given him so much pleasure that day that he was willing to cut him some slack. Instead he smiled, considering the deed done for the day: 'Night, night, Princess. Sweet dreams of me.' He whispered softly to him, feeling generous for ignoring his son's barely audible 'Fuckin' pervert' that he muttered into his pillow before he closed his bedroom door quietly.

He waited a few minutes until he heard his son start sobbing harder than ever. His thin lips twisted into a small, self-satisfied smile. Daryl was not only broken-in now, he was nicely submissive.

Most importantly, he was broken.