Chapter 55: Laundry
I hope that Carl (bad as he is) can fight off Dad and Daryl can go and live with him, at least until Merle gets back.
Thanks for reading – please leave a review if you can because it would make the author really happy x Thanks
Daryl
Might heart nearly stopped in my chest when my teacher just grabbed me away from Dad but I felt something else too – was it gratitude and relief? Or a mixture of both?
My father narrowed his eyes first at me peeking at him in relative safety from around Carl's shoulder and then at my teacher.
'I advise ya to think this through. Playin' the hero will get ya nowhere and I guess ya don't won't to be responsible for what I do to him once I get him back home…'
I gasped when he abruptly dropped the-nice-but-misunderstood-Dad act.
'So, I suggest ya shut up, play nice and give me my boy back. If ya do, I'll forget all about this and you kidnapping him for a month! …Am I makin' myself clear here?'
Rogers said nothing, just stared back at my father like he was the Devil himself standing there.
'Come on now, I can tell ya really care about my boy. I thank ya for that and taking care of and feeding him all that time because not many teachers give a shit about the Dixons, I tell ya. But I'll take it from here.' Dad did his best to sound reasonable.
'No.'
He lost his patience when Rogers refused to budge and he easily shoved him out of the way and dragged me to him by my sleeve.
'Come on, son. Promise I'm not mad at ya. Just relieved to catch him with ya in time, 'cos who knows what he could have forced on ya?'
'Hey! I have never done anything to anyone to deserve being called a rapist! I'm his teacher! Why aren't you pleased someone else is taking an interest in your boy and helping him get into college? Why does there always have some twisted or ulterior motive, huh? Or are you just jealous?'
I could literally feel the blood disappear from my face and I deliberately caught Carl's eye, shaking my head and mouthing 'No', hoping he would realise what I meant. He saw and anyway, clearly regretted the last thing he said which could be taken in another way; clearly my father thought so too as he furrowed his brow in rage. Rogers quickly added: 'Stop hitting him and he might open up and talk to you too.'
I sighed inwardly in relief over that. At least he had tried to save the situation. Actually, knowing what he knew, I was surprised he could keep a level head like he did in front of my father.
Dad just snorted and ruffled my hair as he looked at my teacher. 'Ya better leave how I raise my son up to me, ya smug prick. And better leave him alone in future too, if ya know what's good for ya. Ya know what I'm talkin' about, everybody around here does, what you like to do with your favourite boy students when you make them stay behind after class, you sick bastard.' My father said curtly, before he turned away, dragging me with him. He kept me pinned to him in a bear-hug so that I would have no chance of escape.
I felt really sorry for my teacher who could only gape after us in open-mouthed shock. Apparently, he hadn't been aware of the extent of the rumours circulating about him and certain male students and I hoped he wouldn't lose his job over them. I desperately wanted to call out to him but didn't dare even to say 'Good-bye' with my father there.
Dad grunted in satisfaction and started to drag me off with more haste but I dared one more glance over my shoulder, and noticed Mr. Rogers looking worriedly right back at me. I shook my head at him as if to tell him that this wasn't the time to involve the cops. If I'd known what my dad had in store for me in the very near future, maybe I'd given him the go ahead to call them.
My father pulled me even closer to his side then as if to remind me that I was his and had a hope in hell of getting away. 'What the fuck's the matter with ya? Ya let him stand there and give me that crap?'
I kept silent, knowing it was safer not to answer, even if that usually made him angry too. 'And what was that shit 'bout going' to college? Think ya smarter than us, huh? Gonna rub our faces in it, that it?'
'Ain't going to no college, I just said that to get him off my back. He's really excited that he's got a student who can answer his questions and who actually gives a shit.'
He chuckled dirtily then, 'I bet he's excited about ya, son.'
'And don't give me that shit! That's the teacher, isn't it? Sure, it's him. What did he do to you in the woods?' He burst out in sudden rage and increased our pace so that I had trouble keeping up with him.
'Nothing! It wasn't him who attacked me the first time!'
'Stop protectin' the bastard, will ya? Otherwise I'm gonna think ya like what he did to ya.' He suddenly stopped in the middle of the path and cupped my jaw in his hand. I tried to look anywhere else but at him – I didn't want him to read the truth in my eyes.
'Don't have to be afraid of him no more, son. Daddy can take care of him for ya.' He crooned at me while I stared in disbelief at how much of a hypocrite he was, too shocked to even flinch back from his touch.
'No! Don't! I told ya it ain't even him! He never did nothin' to me!'
'Come on.' He snarled and started to drag me off again at the same rapid pace as before. 'Ya already in serious trouble son, don't make it harder on yaself by lyin'!'
'I'm not lyin'. He's all right. We just talked, that's all.'
'What do ya take me for? Ya think ya old man is blind? I saw you two together – look like a pair of pansy fag lovers – any minute I kept expectin' ya to hold hands. Him tryin' to protect ya from me – just like a shinin' knight in armour and his little princess.'
I snorted at the image but it only made him clutch me more tightly to him.
'Fuckin' saint, he is. And the way the pervert was starin' at me when I was jus' huggin' ya - not sure if it was because he thought he should protect ya from me or if he was jus' plain old jealous. Either way, fucker ain't got no right eyein' up what belongs to me like that.'
'He weren't! It's all in ya head! Ya see only what ya wanna see!'
'Careful now, son.' There was a warning growl in his voice, letting me know that I was already skating on thinner ice if that was possible.
'What's it to you anyway if somebody fools around with me? What the fuck do ya call what you do?'
It came as no surprise at all when he backhanded me hard across the face and split my lip for that. But it was worth it, I'd finally said what I'd always wanted to sat to him.
That his was a hypocrite of the very worst kind.
'Better watch ya filthy mouth! Just wait 'til I get ya home. Your precious teacher would hate himself if he knew what punishment I got planned for ya. All because he couldn't keep his filthy hands to himself, not to mention that he couldn't keep his self-righteous mouth clammed shut neither.'
We walked in silence for a while and he kept his tight grip on me just in case I tried to make a run back to Carl's.
'Ya sure been tellin' him stuff. Why else would he look at me like that, like I'm the devil? Think I'm gonna hurt ya when we get home?' He smirked.
I said nothing, just stared at the ground as pulled me along with him. There wasn't anything I could do anyway.
'No, ya know what, I ain't gonna let ya off the hook. What did ya tell him, you little shit?' He growled, his voice getting that dangerous tone that warned me I was in for a punishment.
I said nothing.
'Must have told him somethin'. Did ya tell him about us? Otherwise why did he glare daggers at me when I put my arm around you? Jus' a father huggin' his son, what's wrong with that?'
''Cos, he knows ya the one who beats me up, that's why!' And much worse, I didn't dare to add.
'Been whinin' all 'bout that, have ya?'
'Didn't have to!'
'Yeah, and I bet ya didn't deny it neither, ya little snitch!'
'Of course, I didn't tell! But he knew anyway! Everybody fuckin' knows you beat the shit out of me! Always have!' Did he really think he could bruise up my face and break my bones enough times and no-one would suspect? He used to do it to Merle, too!
'Do they?' He stopped to stare at me, flabbergasted. He was either acting or he knew exactly. I guessed the latter – no way could he be that stupid when we lived in a little poor, boring place of a town where gossip was often the only form of entertainment. Some people were too poor to buy a TV, for fuck's sake!
'No matter, I'll find out soon enough. What's with ya today, lyin' through ya teeth to me? Careful if ya want any left.'
As we got closer to home, my stomach twisted. Merle's big truck wasn't there although it was high time he was back – it was only 2 days ago that I'd sneaked in to check while the old bastard was actually out for once.
Now, more than ever, I needed him!
I knew Dad was going to really give it to me this time– maybe he would be even worse than Carl in the classroom in my nightmare a couple of weeks ago. Even now, that dream stuck in my memory and made me shiver with fear when I dwelled on it too long.
Even though it hadn't been real! I prayed that the other bad dream when I woke up to finding my dad in my room in Carl's house, flaunting the blood-stained knife right under my nose wasn't a premonition. I'd dreamt that he'd used it to kill my host.
Even as my father dragged me impatiently into the house, I could only think about Carl and what Dad would do to him. Because sure as hell, the asshole would hold a grudge and wouldn't rest until he'd got his revenge. And he had plenty of reasons as he saw it to make Carl suffer.
When he saw me have a small panic-attack at the absence of my big brother's truck, a huge sleazy grin spread across my father's face and I knew what that meant.
Daryl
I tried to desperately wriggle out of his iron grip while he snarled at me and shook me like I was a puppy that had piddled in the house. Knowing how much shit I already was in, how furious and jealous he was at finding me like that with my teacher, I thought it better to take whatever punishment he planned to mete out. Not to add to his rage any more by attempting an escape that wouldn't get me anywhere because I sensed that in the mood he was, he was fully capable of murdering me.
I was silent when we got to the front porch door, he opened it impatiently and pushed me inside almost hard enough to make me fall over. Then, he yanked me upright so brutally that I wondered if he'd dislocated my shoulder before without stopping, he dragged me to the laundry room.
'What the fuck?' I squeaked. Why was he taking me there? He stopped and glared murder at me before he cuffed me. Hard.
'Get in there!' He screamed. His anger only seemed to be increasing as he shoved me inside then slammed the door shut behind us.
I stared at him in confusion as I watched him turn the key in the door. When he'd done this, he grabbed me and slammed my back up against it before I could react.
'Don't act like I'm forcin' ya! Ya made it clear that ya ain't scared of me when I gave ya the choice to go with who you wanted. And ya chose me, remember, boy!'
I said nothing faced with his self-delusion. Lies that he even told himself – even he couldn't face what he did to me.
'It means you like what I do to ya, don't deny it!' He crowed triumphantly in my face, taking me not protesting as agreeing with him. Truth was, I was petrified, my heart thundering in my chest – I'd never seen him so angry before. Even then he was pawing me – stroking my face and my hair as if to reassure me while I shrank away from his touch, I could still sense his seething rage under all his fake gestures of fatherly concern.
'I know most people wouldn't understand, us bein' father and son...it's normal to feel a little weird.' He gently stroked my jaw as he moved impossibly even closer so that I could smell his breath. That wasn't too bad – he was always hygienic and used mouthwash but the realization that I couldn't detect one sniff of alcohol in it made my eyes tear up all over again. Somehow, knowing he was sober and could still do this to me made the experience even worse. I knew that he didn't always do it to me drunk but this fact never failed to horrify me. Because he couldn't blame his uncontrollable lust for me, his own son, on anything else, and I couldn't either.
I knew then that he didn't need booze or drugs because I was his drug. His latest and most powerful addiction that he would never give up now while he had me trapped filled me with dread. He didn't have to be drunk to do the unnatural things he did to me terrified me even more.
In the beginning I tried to blame the booze and his occasional recreational drug use - telling myself that he couldn't control himself. Like with the beatings. Maybe me running away for so long had turned him sober? Or maybe it was probably just lack of money and the fact that he barely left the house these days. Had he already got through that big bag of money Merle brought home only a few days ago already? How? That was impossible. What could he have spent the dough on? I had to face the truth. He was just sick and at this realisation, I couldn't stop myself from turning away in anger.
He just laughed at that and kissed my cheek lingeringly then, and somehow that was worse than when he was beating the shit out of me. I could feel the slimy traces of his saliva on my face which I was desperate to wipe off but was unable to. He had made sure of that as he already had my arms pinned to my sides by now. My father was an actor to rival Hollywood stars – maybe he should have gone for an Oscar's. At this thought, I let out a nervous chuckle and he drew back and stared at me in disbelief. The raw need to make me hurt was always beneath the surface of everything he did to me; especially now because he felt I'd cheated on him with my teacher.
'No...no, don't, Dad!' I begged and struggled in vain as he pecked me gently on the lips. It was sad to say that he occasionally forced his tongue into my mouth just like he did then soon after so it wasn't like I wasn't used to it but naturally it still revolted me. I could never get used to him kissing me like that. There was something sickeningly intimate about it.
'No! Don't do that! Please, Dad!' After him doing it to me for so long, I'd lost my pride.
He laughed then but drew back. 'What the fuck's wrong with ya? It's only kissin', not hurtin'. Jus' wanna show my beautiful baby boy how much I love him.'
He chuckled while I shivered in fear at the inevitable despite hurrying us in there, he seemed determined now to take his sweet time. My chest swelled with dread like a lead balloon and I let out a small whimper without meaning to. He didn't touch me again but lingered close enough to invade my space, causing me to feel smothered and trapped before he finally backed me up against the wall next to the washing machine.
His face suddenly got this ugly, look of lust before he grabbed me without warning. He ran his hands greedily under my shirt, touching me all over while I desperately tried to squirm away before he stuffed them down the back of my pants to cup and squeeze my ass.
'Ya really are sick! I don't want this! Please don't!'
'It's OK.' He crooned, unfaltering in his assault. 'No need to feel guilty or pretend when it's just us. Ya know how much it turns me on when ya play hard to get... jus' like the little cock-tease ya are. Ain't that right, son?'
His squeezes became more eager and painful by the minute. 'No!' I wailed like a sissy. 'Please, don't, Dad! Jus' let me go! I won't tell no-one, promise.'
'But you did and anyway, ya know I won't stop until I get what I want from you so why even bother?'
'Fuck you.' I muttered under my breath but he was so into his diatribe that he didn't hear.
'Now, I know ya got angry when I said that it was ya brother who beat ya up to ya teacher. That he was the one who broke your arm that time.'
'Ya think so?' I bit back with bitter sarcasm.
He paused in his ravenous groping for a split-second only to tilt my face up to his so that he could read the dismay on my face.
Satisfied, he continued, 'Partly why I said it, was to see what ya would do if I accused ya precious big brother and involved him in all of this. 'Cos' I know ya been tellin' that interfering prick of a teacher all about it... Fuck, ya little ass is so tight...'
He closed his eyes and moaned in my ear in distraction before he went on.
'I tell you, sweetheart, if you hadn't done the right thing and chosen me over him, your beloved teacher would be dead by now. 'Cos if ya'd gone home with that prick, I would have tracked the both of you down and killed him, ya know that don't ya, boy?'
He paused awhile to let this new threat sink in and thankfully took his hands away from my ass to stroke my hair again with that mask of fatherly concern back on his face.
'Cos don't ya know he what he had planned? The sick things that pervert was gonna do to ya and have ya do to him? He would have hurt ya!'His voice rose.
I pulled my head away from his hand, making him growl in anger.
'Like ya don't, ya fuckin' hypocrite?'
He laughed then when I was expecting him to punch me to the ground for that. Maybe I was subconsciously trying to make him angry enough to punish me that way instead. Anything was better than the things he did with his dick.
He went back to petting my hair like he used to when I was little, brushing back my long fringe to see the reaction on my face better, no doubt. Back then, I would have welcomed his touch, even leaned my head into his hand but now, I cringed back as far as I could against the wall. To my increasing frustration, he carried on with this protective father act that made my blood run to ice and set alight a growing burning rage in my gut. I didn't know why he even bothered – it was a cringe fest sublime.
'He'd be worse than me, never doubt that. Better it's me – I'm ya father after all. It's up to me to break ya in and introduce ya to new experiences.'
I shook my head in disbelief. Is this what he told himself at night? Since when did a father have the right to do that kind of shit to his own child?
The whole time while he was giving me his twisted little reasons, and boasting about how noble he was and so much better than perverts like my teacher, he started to fondle me again wherever he could reach. Tears sprang to my eyes, despite my determination not to cry and give him the satisfaction.
'Fuck you! No, he wouldn't be – no-one could be worse than you! And of course, ya pissed me off by accusing Merle of what you did! My brother would never hurt me!'
Thankfully his hands had come up from down the front of my pants and were now around my throat but not choking me just yet.
'Ya blind loyalty and puppy dog love for ya big brother melts my heart but tell me, sweet baby boy, where is he now? He ain't gonna come a-runnin' to save you this time. Ain't done not once since I started doing this to ya, has he?'
He paused, no doubt expecting me to argue but I remained silent. How can you argue with a crazy person?
''Cos, he don't care, that's why.' He shook his head sorrowfully at me. 'Ya know Merle, all he cares about is fuckin' and gettin' high. Can't see what's going on right under his nose, it's only me who gives a shit about ya. As for him not hurtin' you we'll see about that. I bet he can be tempted.'
A chill ran down my spine at his words not only because he was saying he was the only one who cared about me which was nuts but because I couldn't imagine what evil, sick fantasies were going round his head to punish us because it sounded like he had plans for him too. I could tick off the list of reasons: Dad was furious with Merle for protecting me and standing up to him. Hell, he was angry at my brother merely for growing up so that he couldn't 'punish' him any more. I knew whatever he hadn't planned wouldn't be good - it would be painful and humiliating and I instantly felt worried for my brother. And what did he mean before by threatening my teacher? The asshole was really losing it. My gut spasmed again as I decided then that I was willing to submit to all of the sick bastard's crazy demands if he would just leave Merle and Carl out of it.
I had to do something.
Despite my desperate fantasies about Merle catching us out, in reality it was the very last thing I wanted.
I wouldn't be able to bear the shame and he might not understand. Might not look at me in the same way ever again.
Dad cooed at my crest-fallen expression and combed his fingers through the hair on the back of my neck, sending what felt like tingles of electricity passing through my body. Touching me there had a weird effect on me – something I had recently found out but I didn't know then what it meant. Somehow, the bastard knew and smiled knowingly at me. My head started to nod and amazingly, I was beginning to feel sleepy until…
Without warning and taking me completely by surprise, he gave me one killer-blow to my stomach, causing me to double over in agony. Not waiting for me to regain my breath, he viciously punched the small of my back afterwards, forcing me back on my knees. I was clutching my middle and gasping for air and this apparently had been his intention all along.
'About time ya knew ya place, boy. Ya do it for him, ya can sure give me some pleasure too, can't ya? Knew ya done it before the first time I made ya.' He sneered down at me, and ruffled my hair.
I made a small sound of pain and blinked back the tears. I couldn't believe that he was bringing Mike up now to mock me.
He smirked at me knowingly. 'If ya were my student, ya would have all the gold stars to go with those top grades of yours for sure. In all of ya classes including this one.' To make his point clear, he stroked his groin lasciviously. I let out a small sob before I could stop it and turned away from him in disgust.
'Fuck you! How many times I gotta tell ya, he didn't hurt me!'
He grabbed my chin and pulled it back so I had to look at him. 'So, ya mean he didn't have to force ya, ya little slut? That's even worse. 'Sides, I never seen ya study – so how the hell could you get straight A's? And with ya sayin' that, it was him who put his filthy paws all over ya and scared ya, weren't it?'
There he went again, twisting all my words to suit his purpose. 'No! If it was – why the hell would I go and stay at his house?'
He stared at me for once unable to think up a clever answer and then shook his head like he didn't believe me anyway. He was my father – it was practically impossible to lie to him.
Clearly done with the small talk, he unzipped his pants impatiently and got his dick out. 'See what ya doin' to me? All I need to get it up is havin' ya on ya knees. Now, open up for Daddy.'
'No! Get off me, you sick fuck! I don't wanna!' I stupidly tried to get away, but he grabbed a fistful of my hair immediately to stop me from moving. Tears came unbidden to my eyes when he yanked it painfully back. Even if I did escape his clutches by some miracle, where was I to go? The door was locked and he had the key in his pocket. Visions of grabbing something heavy and striking him over the head with it and taking his key came to me then but he was too fast for me. Especially since hadn't been drinking.
'Ya stay right where ya are, boy.' He barked at me, reading my thoughts. 'Otherwise I'll stick it in ya other hole with no lube, no gettin' ya ready beforehand. It'll hurt like a bitch. Would ya like that, slut-boy?'
'No! Please don't, Dad...What if Merle…?'
'Why do ya think I locked the door? If by some miracle – he decides to come back today and use the back one, I'll hear him. But don't worry, he probably won't. That other boy 'o' mine sure knows how to sneak in and out of my house, usually when he's bringing a girl or two back to his room. That sly bastard can be as quiet as a mouse when he don't want ya to know... Actually, thinking about how he'd react to seein' us like this is gettin' me hot all over. Do you think he would try to kill me or join in? More excitin' when there's a chance you may get caught, don't ya think?'
Yeah, I knew that feeling. Getting fucked by our teacher over my enemy's desk had been a thrill. But I hated him for having the same idea as me and making that exciting memory into something dirty!
He stroked my cheek, tilting my face up to force me to look up at him as he added: 'Cos just the thought of havin' him see his precious baby brother like this…on his knees, servicin' their own father is makin' me so damn hard.'
That particular gem of a vision made me feel sick actually, but I said nothing. He didn't care what I thought anyway and it wasn't like I had a choice in anything that was happening to me.
'Now, open up. Ya know it's not goin' to end well if ya keep me waitin'.'
I squeezed my eyes shut, but didn't move. I didn't open my mouth either. Then to my horror I felt something slimy sliding across my face, I was pretty sure what it was. What it could only have been. But that didn't stop me gasping in horror when confronted with his dick as soon as I opened my eyes. It made me recall the first time he forced me to take it into my mouth. The slimy slipperiness of him and my revulsion – trying not to choke. I almost opened my mouth in shock, which was his intention to begin with, no doubt. I stubbornly kept it shut and stared forwards with a blank expression.
'We'll keep on doin' this until ya open ya mouth, boy.' Was I having deja-vu? Was he deliberately using the same words – more or less – from when he raped my mouth the first time?
If I knew the sly bastard, he probably was.
When I couldn't take it anymore, I opened my mouth just as I felt his dick sliding across my lips. He probably anticipated that move seeing how freaked out I was. His previously light grip of my hair now tightened to the point of pain.
'There's my little A-student. Knows just what to do to pass the tests.' He gave a little laugh before moaning out loud as I took him in deeper into my throat.
I just wanted his taunting to stop. Being forced to do what he had me doing was torture enough even without his jibes. It was better than him being inside me, though, which almost always followed. I was worried sick about Rogers. My dad was a lot of things, but he was no fool.
And he didn't forget or forgive.
…
Daryl
It rapidly became very clear that he didn't think me giving him a blow-job was punishment enough as he soon had my pants down by my ankles and was pinning me to the washing-machine.
'Change of location always heats thing up a bit, right, son?' He left a love bite on my neck. I squirmed while he was biting me and he seemed to take that as a sign of pleasure.
'Let's think about another room we can christen, hey, baby? Why didn't I think of that before? Fuckin' ya in a different room each time?' He mused aloud just before sank his teeth lightly into my skin to give me another mark.
Like a fucking vampire. I was surprised that he didn't literally suck my blood. Wouldn't have put it past him either.
'Ya fuckin' sick! Stop that!'
He chuckled and to my surprise, he did stop biting me at least.
It seemed to take him ages to come, it was like he was drawing out the torture deliberately. He kept on pounding into me as I desperately tried to make him stop, but as it went on and on, I knew he wouldn't. These days he never stopped – he had only once – even if I cried. Even then – he'd punished me enough to make me regret making him stop. He'd told me from the beginning that I'd forfeited any right to say 'No' to him for my heinous crime of kissing another boy which probably wouldn't have gone anywhere even if Eric had stayed. We'd only be messing around after all. But then again, I did really miss him and thought maybe I did have feelings for him but I wasn't sure.
Dad craved my tears most of all and these days he responded to them and me begging him to stop by getting more sadistic or with that creepy fake sympathy which I hated most of all.
He knew just when to cover my mouth, and when to not bother and when he could tighten his iron-grip on my hips instead. I knew there would be even darker bruises than usual in the shape of his fingerprints there tomorrow.
He went at me like a starving man and I guess he was, in a way. He hadn't got to fuck me for a whole month, after all.
When it was finally over and he pulled out of me, he buried his face into my shoulder, to muffle his sounds. I stoically held back the tears and managed to remain silent.
'Well, well.' He said when he could finally breathe normally again and got off me but he did let me pull up my pants and do up my zip with trembling hands. Even though I was grateful for the opportunity to cover myself up in the current company, it was also ironically the last thing I wanted to do to. More than anything, I longed to have a hot shower and wash him away and I knew that I couldn't bear to wear those clothes until I'd washed and scrubbed them clean. Especially as I could feel his release slowly trickling its way out of me.
The more scalding the water, the better. The more it burnt me, the easier I could focus on that pain and not so much on the shame and disgust which was harder for me to deal with in the aftermath each time.
He didn't always let me have a shower though – sometimes ordered me to bed without one if it was late or he visited me in the middle of the night. He delighted in making me 'lie in him' as he put it disgustingly but usually, I could get up and have one later if he passed out downstairs in front of the TV. I still wanted to wash the bed clothes and scrub them clean of him and my blood though.
Or at least I could wash myself with a hot flannel and soap over the bathroom sink. Wasn't quite as good – didn't make me feel as clean but then again, thinking about it, didn't I always feel dirty after a session with Dad? No matter how much I scrubbed myself raw afterwards?
He gave me a light slap on the face for once, bringing me out of my depressing thoughts.
'Oh, don't give me that look, I know I was a bit rough on ya. But I meant to be. Ya ain't exactly been a good boy, lately, have ya? Runnin' away from me. It's been such a long time and I was so horny. Can do myself but it ain't the same without you.'
I closed my eyes in revulsion at these too-much-information sordid details and he smirked.
'Besides, ya needed punishin' for tellin' that teacher Dixon family business.'
'Fuck you! If ya hadn't started doin' it in the first place there would be nothin' for me to tell, you sick bastard!' I snarled in anger. That earned me a black-eye and I saw stars when the back of my head connected with the wall.
'Merle!' I whispered as my vision kept fading in and out on me.
'You ungrateful little shit. I saved ya from that man, Lord knows, I've become kind of an expert at spottin' perverts like him.'
'Saved me?! How can ya…'
'Keep ya fuckin' voice down!'
He grabbed me then and forced me to the floor.
'N... No...' I whimpered. 'Please don't do it to me, Dad. Not again.' My chest hitched pathetically. 'It hurts…' I heard myself say all this and never felt like such a sissy in my life but it was like I couldn't control my mouth. It was sheer terror and panic that made me say all of this.
He gave me a condescending little laugh. 'Well, it's meant to, baby. As for fuckin' ya again - maybe I will, maybe I won't. All depends on whether ya a good little boy.' He grabbed me roughly to pull me closer.
I snarled and thrashed out at him.
'I can't believe ya still got fight left in ya boy, think I need to step up my game some. What do ya say? Jus' lookin' round this room I can see lots of things that I could stick up inside ya, at least until I get hard again. How would ya like that, huh? Some of them would be a good fit, others are too big – those would be a real punishment.' He chuckled. 'What happens next all depends on whether ya please me or not...'
He slapped my hands away when I tried to stop him from undoing my pants again. Undressing me like a little kid. 'Merle!' I cried out louder this time in panic. Something made me even though I knew it was useless.
He gripped my chin forcefully as he hissed: 'Stop callin' for him. He's not here...Anyways, told ya he don't give a shit about ya.'
But then he froze just as I did. We heard him crash through the back door this time, his tell-tale heavy boots thumping up and down.
'Merle!' I yelled as hard as I could before the bastard clapped one hand over my mouth, pinning me against the wall. He dismissively slid the lube under the washer with the other.
How convenient.
I could hear him zipping up his own flies in great haste. It all didn't make any sense, it had seemed like he wanted my brother to catch us before, despite him locking the door.
I tried to call out one more time but his hand muffled me. 'You little shit!' He hissed furiously in my ear but I was grinning because I could hear my brother call my name – asking me where I was. He sounded worried too, nothing could stop Merle when he was on a mission, usually one involving his dick or drugs.
Or now, me.
'Daryl! Ya in there, boy? Ya OK?' My brother was immediately rapping on the laundry door.
'Mer...' My breath was abruptly cut off.
'Sh...' Dad whispered in my ear while his arms tightened around me in a warning. His arms squeezed around me like a vice, tight enough that it felt like he was going to crush my ribs. A silent threat of what would happen if I made a single sound.
But the one I did manage to make was loud enough and Merle heard. The door crashed wide open after he attacked it, breaking the lock with two powerful kicks.
His eyes were full of fury and suspicion when he spied us sitting on the floor together. Dad was holding me far too tight. Did he notice?
