Chapter 57: Banana for Breakfast
Sorry for the delay, I am now back at work but I will update as often as I can. Please keep the reviews coming! Thanks x
Daryl
Breakfast usually always went down ugly nowadays. Some mornings the pain from the latest of his stupid excuses for punishing me in that way was worse than others. He'd been bearing his grudges for a while now – moved on from kissing Eric to shit I couldn't even remember doing like leaving the bathroom tap running before I left to go to the shop to buy his booze and smokes or drinking up the last carton of milk without bothering to replace it. 'Costing him money and wasting water' – I nearly laughed at that one – because since when did he ever pay the bills? Merle did most of the time, I knew that.
He was at me day and night now – anytime Merle left the house, he practically pounced on me and how much I bled depended on how 'punishing' or gentle he was with me. I recalled that I had never bled with my teacher and how different sex was with him. Anyway, Dad decided how rough he was going to be with me based on the severity of my offences. Anyway, all of this succeeded in making my mood which was never particularly sunny anyway, black to say the least.
I had tried to remind Merle of his promise to take me out of that house and move us someplace else after I graduated but he just kept saying it wasn't the right time or that he had business to still take care of. In any case, it looked like his problems with Axe and his crew had been dealt with and of course, he didn't tell me any of the details. But it was late August by now, the Georgian summer was already beginning to lose its teeth as the weather gradually became cooler and soon the leaves would be starting to fall. Surely, we wanted to be gone by then?
Of course, the change in me didn't escape my father or brother – the only difference was that one knew the real reason for it and the other was still trying to get it out of me. Still, Merle seemed to believe the bastard blaming it all on my teacher and seemed to swallowed it all. But there were times where he would narrow his eyes in suspicion when he looked at our father when he thought Dad wasn't looking. Or I'd catch him looking straight at me as if he was trying to work out a particularly difficult calculation in his head, trying to understand something that was just out of his reach.
He'd been looking at me oddly ever since he'd found me bound up and practically crying anyway, even though I'd tried to pretend I wasn't but he wasn't fooled. That time I'd simply been unable to suck it up in front of him, I couldn't stop myself breaking down either after the first time when Dad had come into my room, taunting, groping and scaring me.
My big brother had treated me differently ever since – the change was subtle but it was there. In the way he looked at me lately, shit – even the way he touched me – kind of tentative and soft. Fact was that he was touching me a lot when it seemed like he had stopped and was doing his best to keep his distance. But unlike with Dad, I didn't mind it – I even welcomed it. I put it down to the lies Dad told him that it had been Rogers who raped me, to cover his own worthless ass. During it all, Dad even managed to be so convincing that he manipulated Merle into taking revenge on my behalf.
Just like with Mike. But I hadn't given a shit about that piece of shit even though I used to love him – I was only 13 when he attacked me and tried to rape me.
Of course, one of the effects of those dirty, shameful things that had happened to me was to make Merle even more overprotective and careful with me. I was still worried about my teacher, although deep down I knew that he was a pervert, he was nothing like Dad. He hadn't done anything, a least not against my will - not really, and he'd only tried to help me. He'd shown me that sex didn't have to hurt and that I could even enjoy it. But Dad had done that once and forced me to moan which was somehow even worse.
I blamed my father but I couldn't really blame my brother for doing what he did. After all, he thought the teacher had raped me. In his shoes, I would have probably done the same thing and I didn't have the heart to be angry with Merle. In fact, when I thought more about it, I doubt I would've stopped at beating him into a coma, I probably would have ended up killing the bastard. In a way, I was happy that Merle had managed to restrain himself but had it been in time because would Rogers ever come out of the coma Merle had put him in? Word was he was in intensive care and unable to breathe without a respirator.
Of course, no-one saw anything or knew who had attacked him or if they did, knowing what he was, they kept their mouth shut. Looked like my brother was home scott-free.
Nothing helped me with my anger and guilt for what I had let happen to my ex-teacher. After all, he had been the only one who knew what was really going on, the only one who offered to help me even though he made some mistakes along the way. Dwelling on all of this, I wished that I was able to protect myself and kill our sick father myself and I growled and clenched my fists, having them both look at me in surprise.
Eaten up with worry and guilt for my teacher as I tried to keep myself neutral, I should have known nothing escaped their eagle-eyed Dixon hunter eyes. Not the way I winced even though I'd been expecting the pain as I took my seat. I was still trying to cover it up for my brother's sake, and not to mention not giving the sick bastard the satisfaction.
Merle gave me a funny look at this but didn't say anything, while Dad grinned knowingly.
I almost dropped the glass in shock at the next thing he said: 'Ah, poor kid, he's still hurtin'. Bastard did a real number on ya, didn't he, son?' He crooned and reached out to stroke my cheek while I flinched back. Yet, his eyes were mocking me, daring me to speak the truth. Dad shook his head mournfully, perfect poker-face as he focused on my big brother to my left. 'Ya should have killed him, son. Sick fuck could still wake up. Drop ya in it.'
Merle sniggered. 'No chance of that. After what I did to him – bastard'll be lucky if he remembers his own name when – if – he wakes up.' His callous laugh froze my heart.
I winced this time for Rogers, while they chuckled like a pair of old hags picking over the bones of a fallen enemy. Cranky beyond belief I stared daggers at the bowl of cereal that the asshole had just slammed down in front of me and squeezed my hands into a tight fist.
'What's the matter with ya, boy? Eat up, will ya? Ya don't have to worry about that sick child-molestin' piece of shit no more, ya should be happy.' He spoke in a tone of fatherly concern but his eyes told me otherwise. They were laughing at me and his mouth tilted a little up at the corners in satisfaction.
His hypocrisy always roused fury in me and I stared right back at him with open contempt, in a way my death-stares had been my weapon against Rogers, but that was different. On this bastard, my own father, nothing worked. Hell, my glares probably even turned him on. I cursed inside as I, despite all that, stubbornly held my gaze. It was all I could do not to leave. I hated his smugness. Couldn't believe he had the gall to say that in front of me.
'If only I was as big as Merle, I'd...' I muttered under my breath, with visions of slamming my fists into my father's face to wipe that evil, self-satisfied grin right off his face.
I went right back to glaring at him in answer, making my eyes speak for me instead when I couldn't say out what I wanted out loud.
'I said ya don't have to worry 'bout him no more. Ya brother saw to that.' He deliberately misunderstood me and now his voice was rising slightly in impatience and I recognised that I was treading dangerous ground.
I didn't rise to the bait and absently grabbed the banana intended for the cereal.
'Did he make ya do other stuff as well? Ya sure eyeing that banana angrily enough.'
'Come on, let him eat. You're pissing him off.' My brother intervened.
'I know what I'm doin'. He won't talk otherwise and I wanna know.'
'I doubt he'll do it while he's tryin' to eat.'
'Shut ya mouth and let me deal with this, son.'
I couldn't take the way the bastard grinned at me, completely losing it, I sneered right back at him. Half-expecting a blow across the table for that but none came.
He looked at me surprised like he couldn't figure out what I was planning. How could he? It was nuts, and the thought about how my brother would react didn't even cross my mind as the rage took over. It was bad enough what he was doing to me, but having him taunting me and lying about it in front of my brother and blaming the man who had saved me was too much. So, I shoved the banana into my mouth. Deliberately making it look like I was sucking it off, even moved it so that it was poking out from inside my cheek as I worked it down as far as I could take it.
I did this with my eyes closed, unable to look at the both them. I knew that if I didn't, I'd quickly lose the courage to go through with it. I jumped when I head a glass crashing to the floor followed by a loud curse from my brother. Knowing I just had to prove my point, otherwise this was all a waste of time, I stubbornly continued. I'd be punished for it later anyway, not like he needed a real reason so I might as well go through with it. I stubbornly kept going, until deciding enough was enough, I bit it clean in half. Then, I swallowed my mouthful as quickly as I could knowing a slap couldn't be avoided after that stunt.
'That's what I'll do to the next sick fuck who forces me to do it!' I snapped and my eyes met my father's as I steeled myself for his inevitable fist raised and heading for my direction. But to my surprise, Dad seemed to reconsider and with a sigh, he lowered his hand. Merle hadn't even seen otherwise he would have tried to stop it - he was too busy gawking at me with his mouth half -open and wearing an unreadable expression on his face.
Dad's behaviour confused me to say the least, that was until he burst forth with:
'Is that what he did? Oh, my poor boy! Ya really hurtin' and ya don't know how to tell us, is that it?'
I felt like screaming out of pure frustration especially as there was some truth in what he was saying. My brother got up from the table and absently cleaned up the milk and swept up the broken glass into the garbage can before he got a new one for his orange juice.
Dad looked at him with something that bordered on amusement before he returned the attention back to me. 'Some trauma ya went through, son. No wonder ya actin' out like this. Don't ya worry, ya brother don't think any less of ya. Neither of us do. Anyway, he's a dumbass for breaking his glass like that.'
'Well, it would have been weird if he didn't react to what I just told you! More so than can probably be said 'bout others!' I spat, aiming for the sink behind me which was soon one banana peel richer.
'Poor boy doesn't know what he's doin' or sayin'.' Dad mused to my brother, his voice dripping with fake melancholy.
That did it, I didn't care what his reaction would be and I threw my plate against the wall, furious at how easily he was always able to twist everything I did to his advantage. For a second or two, cereal rained over our heads, the plate broke into too many pieces to count as I sat back, feeling slightly better.
Incredibly, probably because Merle was there, Dad reined in his anger and all he did was start drawing his chair closer to me. Even boldly tried to draw me into a hug, before he thought better of it and decided to drag over the entire chair with me on it instead.
When I was close enough, he stroked my cheek and whispered in my ear, making me shiver all over. I wanted to cry out to my brother, but he was some other place mentally just then, I recognized that look written all over his face. The dumbass was probably still in shock over what I'd done with the banana. For all I knew he was probably wondering if I was gay, due to the additional moans I'd thrown in there just for the hell of it. I knew how Merle felt about homosexuals.
As Dad continued tormenting me, of course everything he did went unnoticed by Merle. Because, while he had me in a tight half-hug with one arm, his hand furthest away from my brother's line of view slipped down to grab my ass and squeezed it painfully hard in silent warning. I could feel my face going red as much as in rage as with the humiliation of this, not to mention at what I'd done with the banana. My brother just sat there, perched on his chair, frozen with a facial expression I couldn't identify.
'G... Get the fuck off me!' I hissed, struggling but Dad only tightened his grip on me.
'Sh...sh...It's OK...Daddy's here. I bet ya fought him every step of the way, didn't ya? But even ya must have limits, probably couldn't take it anymore and just gave into that bad man... Now, you're fighting me to prove that you still have some control. Ain't that right, sweet boy?'
'Don't tell me what I'm feelin'! And stop fuckin' call me that!'
'How stupid of me, he must've called ya by similar names when he was…, didn't he?' The bastard pretended to be tongue-tied, unable to say it.
'Fuck you!' I snarled and almost succeeded in getting away from him, but he roughly pinned me to him.
'Easy now, Daddy ain't ever gonna let any fuckin' pervert near ya ever again.' Merle only stared at us like he couldn't believe what was he was hearing.
'No! Get off me! Merle!'
His dazed, confused facial expression disappeared like a shot as soon as he saw that I was in trouble and in a shot, my big brother got up and snatched me from our father. Pulled me back to the opposite side of the table and held me close. Dad was too shocked to react.
'Get off him, you hear? How do ya think that makes him feel, doin' that after what he's been through? He don't like it and why ya talkin' to him like that for, anyway? Like he's two and unable to take a piss by himself for fuck's sake. And what ya mean by him givin' in? He didn't have a choice! That scumbag forced him! Wanna make him feel guilty as well? Fuckin' weird, if ya ask me.'
Dad got up, his face scarlet with rage and loomed over us, hands clenched at his sides into fists. I clung to my brother without looking up at him while Merle tightened his grip on me. But I knew Dad wouldn't do anything not when he had me.
Even though I knew I would pay for this act of defiance later, I realised that the bastard was a coward and this revelation made me feel a little better. Not for the first time, I slumped against my brother, the feeling of safety he gave me making me feel relaxed and loved for a change. I didn't even flinch when Dad raised his voice.
'How dare you! Was jus' comfortin' the boy, was all.'
'Yeah? Well, he didn't want ya type of 'comfort'! And when he says 'Get off him, that's what you should do!'
I looked up then at surprise because did Merle get it? Did he realise that it was Dad and not Rogers? Our father obviously asked himself the same question as his eyes narrowed while he stared at my brother and I sensed that he was trying to work out how much Merle knew. When my brother dropped his battle stare first, I heard Dad breathe a huge sigh of relief and my head sank in disappointment strangely also combined with relief.
'What do ya boys want from me, huh? Ain't no fuckin' expert in this shit that's happened to him twice! Ain't sure how to make him feel better.'
'That's for fuckin sure!' I blurted out before I could stop myself.
His fists met the table instead of my face then with a loud slam, but I stayed right where I was, Merle made his point as he straightened is backbone next to me.
'Now what the fuck is that supposed to mean? Didn't help ya enough when I found ya all snivelin' on that laundry floor? Even dazed and in shock as ya were, ya were happy to see ya ol' man, boy.'
Part of me could hardly fathom his freaky ability to paint the perfect picture of him doing just that and make it sound so believable, like it actually had happened. Maybe in his sick mind, it did. At least it would have been if he hadn't lost control for a split second and muttered darkly: 'You'll get what's comin' to ya...'
Merle's grip around me tightened slightly at that. 'What's the matter with ya? How can ya be threatening him after this shit that's happened to him? Last time I checked, ya ain't exactly been the father of the year, especially not helping him to get over stuff.
Dad greeted that with a sneer: 'Didn't say that three years ago, did ya?'
They shared a look at that, fast enough for me to almost miss it, but I didn't.
'Besides, how do ya know what he wants? Needin' and wantin' ain't always the same thing, ya know. Fuck ya both! I'm goin' out.' With that he stomped his way out of the kitchen without looking back. Off to drown his sorrows in a bar, no doubt which he rarely did these days but he still had plenty of the dosh that Merle brought home last time.
Merle didn't let me go, we just sat there like that in silence and I sensed that he was enjoying being close to me. I could hear his heartbeat as I kept holding onto the warm and safe feeling, he was giving me because for one thing, I knew he wasn't expecting anything in return. Merle had been away a lot lately, him touching me more than usual probably all had to do with his guilt for not being around enough when I had needed him so badly.
I found that I needed to control my impulses just then and not burrow into him further. I was no baby after all. Merle's hand that had been stroking my arm partly disappeared under the sleeve of my light sweater to touch my skin and continued to trace that same soothing circular pattern. I said nothing, just sat there, feeling oddly content. And I had missed him so very much and I was over the moon when he suddenly announced that he didn't have to go away to work anymore and soon, he would have the money to get us both out of there. I couldn't wait to start a new life without Dad.
Besides, I was exhausted of being constantly on alert, always thinking that there was always an agenda behind everything with Dad or that everything I said or did would be used against me somehow later on when he was forcing me. But with Merle it was different and I could finally relax.
After a while, he broke the silence again. 'Jesus! Ya still tremblin'? It's OK, he's gonna be gone for a while.' He released me and pushed me away slightly to examine me. Gently brushed back the bangs off my face to get a closer look. 'Fuck! Ya are.'
'Merle, I'm OK.'
'Why was he talkin' to ya like that? Like ya a baby and all that Daddy shit? 'Fuckin' creepy, if ya ask me.'
I shrugged as I slipped out of his arms. I could have told him then - it was on the tip of my tongue to tell him that he'd punished the wrong man. But the words wouldn't come out of my throat. I felt like the truth was choking me.
And I felt like an ungrateful shit for causing what happened to Rogers. I should have left his earlier or better still, never gone there in the first place. Should have just grit my teeth and taken Dad's 'punishments'.
Still, I said nothing and couldn't get my mouth to open, hating myself for it at the same time.
….
Later on, Merle couldn't sleep. He replayed the whole breakfast-drama in his head all over again. Having his brother so close to him and feeling his body trembling against his own as he shielded him from their father. Daryl so warm and trustingly snuggled against him that Merle hadn't wanted to let him go and he wished they could've stayed like that forever. But what was tormenting him most was the image of his brother with that banana in his mouth, the picture in his head just refused to leave him alone.
What the fuck is happening to me? He thought but still he couldn't stop wondering what the teacher had made Daryl do and if his brother was any good...You're sick! He scolded himself. That piece of shit raped him, hurt him and now you're fantasising about it? Remember how you made Mike suffer? What you did to Rogers was a walk in the park compared to how you tortured him and made sure he could never try to rape any little boys (or girls) ever again.
Maybe I should have dragged it out more for Mr. Fucking Carl Rogers. He still might die or at least be a vegetable for the rest of his life. So, they said.
Desperate to distract himself and stop the thoughts, he groaned as he turned onto his side. He closed his eyes trying to force sleep to come but it was impossible so he forced himself to give into the feelings even if he would hate himself for it.
Fuck, Daryl, baby brother... He thought as he reached down to touch himself unable to resist imagining his brother doing to his dick what his mouth had done to that unfortunate piece of fruit that morning. Knowing for a fact that if he did nothing about it, he wouldn't be getting any sleep any time soon.
Even the thoughts of him being forced by that teacher...manhandled and abused did nothing to make his hardness and eagerness go away. All his stubborn mind kept giving him in a mental loop was Daryl working that banana which then quickly morphed into that bastard's dick with his brother on his knees. To Merle's utter horror, his mind didn't draw the limit there, but had his brother pinned under the teacher, terrified when the man couldn't get enough of him as he adored him in all the wrong ways.
Surely Daryl wouldn't be moaning? He'd be whimpering for sure. Scared out of his wits and pleading with the man to stop, all to no avail.
Shaking his head, he would simply not let himself come fantasizing about his little brother's new traumatic experiences, he just wouldn't and part of him wondered why these perverts targeted him. Mike had been a normal guy – had even protected Daryl from their father who was his best friend but even he started to look at him differently. Somehow, Merle knew that it wasn't the teacher's raping Daryl itself that excited him and in that he took some comfort, he was a lot of things but he wasn't a psycho.
The relief didn't last long as it hit him as hard as a tow-truck. Daryl was what excited him. That became very clear as he tried to make his brother go away, replacing him with Hannah, a girl he always found his way back to. She was always there, waiting for him with open arms, a good girl. Well, not really, but in bed she was.
Nothing worked, each time he pictured Hannah in various positions and even paired her up with Rogers, for the hell of it. Ridiculous itself given his preferences and how much he despised 'fags' like most of the men he knew where they lived. But now his own fantasies seemed to suggest he was one too, or at least bisexual. Yet Merle had to remind himself that Daryl was the first boy he'd liked ever and he was his own brother which was sick!
To his horror his dick almost went limp and he groaned in frustration as he renewed his grip on it now desperate to have his release, so he gave in. He pictured Rogers with Daryl instead. Instant success. 'Ya gotta be shittin' me!' He hissed down at it but lost the battle as his traitorous right hand started to move.
He forced his thoughts back to Daryl giving the teacher a blowjob instead - in his mind at least there the fucker was being almost gentle with him.
Somehow his mind twisted everything around to the point where he himself was on the receiving end. Forcing the teacher out of his head completely. He took a firmer grip of himself just then - guilt and self-loathing be damned. It felt so real he could almost feel the softness in Daryl's hair as his fingers curled in its glossy dark brown locks and he gently guided him to where he wanted his mouth to be.
For a brief moment he imagined his brother looking up at him and the twinkle of mischief in his eyes reassured Merle that he wasn't doing anything against his will. The sudden realisation that Daryl was willing in his fantasy almost made him come undone then but he held himself back with great difficulty.
No, on the contrary, in his mind's eye, Merle could see that Daryl was enjoying himself. He could almost feel his experienced mouth and tongue on him. The fact that Daryl knew what he was doing had been clear while he was working that banana for their benefit. What finally tipped him over the edge was the picture of his brother taking him deep down his throat. Behaving like such a typical little brother, wanting his approval and reassurances. Merle couldn't stop the corner of his lips from rising slightly, that wasn't it though. Daryl was eager to please, rather. Even though he knew it was twisted and wrong in so many more levels than one, he finally stroked himself to completion.
He had to stifle his cry into the pillow as his seed gushed out of him while he called out his brother's name. He'd grinded himself against pillowcase that needed washing anyway so that was OK. He'd made sure of really getting the very last drop out, dragged things out as far as he could, making a promise to himself, that this was the only time he would allow himself to think about his brother in that sick and sinful way. As he lay there shuddering in his aftershocks, he had to admit at the same time that this time fantasising about his baby brother had resulted in one of the most powerful orgasms he had ever given himself.
He panted and gathered the pillowcase, sat up and threw it angrily across the room, hissing curses at nothing in particular as his face suddenly grew hot with shame.
