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“Dad, help! Help me, Daddy.”
I am desperate for him to come and wrangle Oliver. I knew this day was coming, but I didn’t expect him to be this forward.
His eyes are wide with hunger and foul thoughts.
I manage to turn around to face the door and turn the doorknob, but my door doesn’t open. My door doesn’t have a lock on it, so why isn’t it opening? I scream desperately in hopes that my father isn’t passed out somewhere again.
Still no response. I try my doorknob again. How can it be locked when I don’t have a lock on my door?
Oliver now has his front pressed to my back, and I feel his hardness against my ass.
“Daddy isn’t going to help you, Princess. Who do you think changed the doorknob to one that locks from the outside?”
Tears are burning my eyes. I keep beating on the door, still hoping and praying that my father will bust in and save me.
I feel his lips on my shoulder. “Who do you think sold you to me to use in any way that I please for as long as I please?”
“You are lying. My dad wouldn’t do that. You are a fucking creep.”
I jerk around, facing him, and manage to get my knee up to kick him in the balls. As he doubles over with pain and hatred written across his face, I beat on the door with all of my might.
My head gets jerked back so hard that my neck is throbbing, and my scalp burns. Oliver has me by my hair.
“Look, you cunt, you are going to give me what I paid for.”
Oliver jerks my towel off and mashes his body against mine up against the bedroom door. I’m struggling and fighting against him, but he outweighs me by like eighty pounds at least.
“The harder you struggle, Princess, the harder my cock gets. Fight me.”
He isn’t angry anymore. He’s so turned on that he’s almost euphoric. He’s getting off on me struggling. He picks me up and throws me on top of the bed, takes a running jump, and lands on top of me.
I continue to fight and grab onto his face and gouge my nails into his cheek, screaming as loud as I can, hoping anyone will come in and help me.
He pries my legs apart as I struggle to hold them together. I will never leave the bathroom without being dressed again. That was one of my biggest mistakes. I feel fat sweaty fingers as they slide along my slit and almost enter me.
I know this is it. This is my last chance. I slam my head into his face, hitting his nose and hearing a crunch. Oliver screams. I roll his large body off of me and jump up and grab my towel off of the floor.
“You fucking broke my nose, you cunt. Wesley, let me the fuck out of here.” Oliver screams at my father while holding his nose and catching the blood that is running out of his nose.
My bedroom door flies open, and my father comes in. Thank God. He will get this monster away from me now. To my shock and horror, my father approaches me and slaps me across the cheek. My face is burning hot, and pain streaks across my face.
“You dumb whore. Why can’t you just do what you are told.”
Dad grabs me by the throat and slams me against the wall. My head bounces off the wall, and I am struggling for air. Clawing at his hand that is around my throat and tightening as he screams more obscenities at me.
“Wes, she broke my fucking nose. No pussy is worth this much trouble. You told me she was a slut and would suck my cock and make it worth my while. You said I could have her virgin pussy, and I didn’t even need to wear a condom since she was clean. I was counting on that tight cunt tonight. She needs to be disciplined and shown who the boss is.”
I start to see spots and nearly lose consciousness as I slide down the wall.
My father swings his leg back and kicks me in the ribs, striking me several times. It knocks the air out of me, and a lone tear rolls down my cheek.
“I want my money, Wes. Get me my fucking money, or get your daughter in line so I can have what you owe me. I need a good fuck. I’m going to pick up some willing pussy and get my nose patched up.”
With that, Oliver leaves the room, and my father goes on a tirade. Telling me how I’m a good-for-nothing whore. An ungrateful bitch. That he’s done taking care of my useless ass. My mother would be disgusted by me.
Each word felt worse than the kicks and punches he was giving me. My dad has never been a great father, but I thought he would save me from Oliver. I never thought he would allow and encourage his friend to rape me. The pain and hurt that I felt were worse in my heart than the bruises he was leaving behind.
My body was exhausted and torn down by life. I had lived the life of an old lady before I was twenty years old. I had taken care of myself and my dad since my mother had died. I had paid his debts and put a roof over his head. I thought somewhere under the filthy and atrocious person that he has become that there was some sort of love for me in him.
