I don’t recognise his face at first. My vision swirling into focus like a dream sequence from a terrible movie. It feels equally surreal, something is wrong here. What should be familiar is warped.
It’s as warped as his smile; his familiar loving expression is gone and replaced with a sneer, knowing and brutal. He waits expectantly, watching my reactions, barely able to contain himself.
Closing my eyes I try to focus, to put this jigsaw back together. I try to hone in on the sound that’s making a cold dread surge through my veins but it’s only just audible over the rush of blood in my ears. I try to shake my groggy head to clear the buzzing but I’m stuck.
I become aware of my body, slowly at first then with increasing speed, forcing me into an unwelcome reality.
Pain leads the charge, dull thuddy headache with lingering trails of nausea. A chemical smell in my nostrils amplifies the feeling. Restriction around my ankles and wrists hold my body splayed over a hard wooden table. My muscles ache and the edge of the bench digs into my bare stomach. That muffled moan is my own.
The tops of my thighs feels wet, is that blood?
Sight and sound rush together to be aligned, like a screen coming into focus, revealing the full picture. It does me no good, confusion still reigns. My brain fires a signal to my mouth to talk, to ask, to question, to scream, to do anything but the message back simply says no. Mouth is out of action right now, stuffed full of something hard and smooth. My jaw aches.
Forced to work it out on my own, the dawning realisation makes me sob against the gag. I want to make myself small but my arms and legs are forced wide and the hand wrapped solidly in my hair is keeping my head up, keeping me face to face with Daddy.
I beg him to make it stop, pleading with my eyes, protect me Daddy, please. Recognising my distress he just laughs. A monster with my Daddy’s face.
Words follow his cruel chuckle. Words I recognise individually but are out of context in the sentence. They are my words, my instructions but these ones aren’t for me. They aren’t said with Daddy’s usual love and encouragement; they drip with sadistic delight at my violation.
They hurt more than the restraints, more than the bruises blooming on my body.
More than being raped.
Rutting like a rampant puppy, the receiver of his words is jack hammering inside of me. The dreadful sound is him, forcing himself inside me repeatedly and exhaling in time. There’s a sense of desperation to use my body, use me like Daddy’s telling him to.
He relentlessly pounds, pulling against my hair and pushing into my hips. He doesn’t savour the moment, just uses the wet hole for his carnal pleasure. Daddy looks at him with a mixture of disgust and amusement and continues to encourage this debased behaviour, basic simple words with an undertone of mocking, as if talking to a stupid animal who knows no better.
I squeeze my eyes tight and scream inside my head but it’s not loud enough to block out the sensations. I feel the boy pump inside of me. Tensing and releasing with a grunt, twice, three times, shooting inside of me.
With a satisfied sigh he is quiet now, giving space for my muffled sobs to fill the air. They ignore me, a discarded toy that’s had its use.
It’s not their sick exchange of pleasantries that starts my blood boiling. The boy’s vulgar words of appreciation making my skin crawl. It’s not even the betrayal piercing my heart. It’s the slow dribble of cum that escapes my used cunt; the feeling of it sliding down my immobilised thigh that ignites a fight within me.
How could Daddy give me away like that and then let him cum inside of me? Filthy cock driven boy. Ignorant beast.
I pull against the ropes but there’s no give, the tension has me, there is no escape. I don’t stop fighting, even as Daddy comes to me. He swaps the gag for his hand, pushing hard against my sore mouth. It doesn’t stop me gnashing at his palm, unable to get purchase with it flat against my face.
His grip is easy, precise and harsh. He’s held me like this a thousand times before, even before I was the littlest of girls. He made me with those hands and I couldn’t bite them if I wanted, no matter how hard I try.
Kneeling down behind me I feel his breath on the raw flesh of my neck. “What did the bad boy do to you, my sweetling?” He mocks me. “Did he make you squeak and squeal?”
Holding me tight he feigns concern, “Oh baby, its ok,” stroking my hair, “the bad boy is all done now and spent.” He lets out a little growl. “He’s all worn out and tired and weak.”
A gentle hand brushes my back and I feel it slide down to his waist. For a moment I think he’s going to unleash himself and ruin me properly but he doesn’t unbuckle his belt.
The almost inaudible shink of a blade being unsheathed echoes in the silent room which is filled with my shallow, broken breaths. I stop breathing at the sound of his knife being taken in hand: my hopes soar at the thought that he might cut me tonight. Reward me for taking so much.
“Did the mean boy hurt you?” He goads me. “Did he make you cry and try to break you?” The blade is cold against my back and then in a moment against my bound wrists. “Did he try very hard to break my precious little one?” He lets out a little laugh. “Does he even know how you break you like I do?” Kissing my ear, he finishes, “Show him how you break someone properly. Just like Daddy does to you.”
The knife slices through the binds easily. I am free. “Show him how big girls teach little boys how to play nicely.”
Pulling back away his voice distant. “Make me proud… break him…”
The blade weighs heavy in my hand, still comfortingly warm from Daddy.
I stalk across the room towards the sleeping boy, ignoring my screaming muscles Driven by my hatred for this animal; I course with fury fuelled adrenaline.
The blade, ready to do my bidding, whispers assurances “We will show him. We will teach him a lesson. We will show him how to really enjoy a toy. Stupid. Fucking. Boy”
The blade and I will savour this moment together, his breaking. “He will beg...” my sharp friend promises. “He will cry and he will desperately wish for death to come quickly.”
The boy stirs, awoken by the blade’s malevolent words coming from my mouth, spat with such venom in his direction I’m surprised he doesn’t burn. He will when I’ve finished with him.
Vengeful anger propelling me forward, I am up and on top of the boy before he can fully open his eyes. Blood from my open wounds spatters in dark spots across his face. It drips into his mouth, opened wide in a startled scream, strangled by the thick wet sound of choking. He turns his head to the side to cough, expelling the liquid onto the sheets. Droplets blooming like pretty red roses and smelling twice as sweet.
When he turns back, his face is white with shock.
Oh this one will be fun, already I can see it. He’s not even clever enough to try to fight, terror stricken and frozen against the bed. He doesn’t even test the restrains, so cleverly crafted by Daddy, simple cuffs locking down a simple beast.
I sit back and watch the fear take hold of him, it grips his throat and restricts his breathing, twists his face into an ugly mask of despair. I laugh in his face as his jeans become warm and wet beneath me “Oh you will regret that. Dirty disgusting boy. You will regret all of it. I don’t want your cum. I don’t want your piss. I want your blood. I want to bathe in it and wash away your atrocities. You’ll wish you’d killed me”
He squeezes his eyes shut too, just like I did and just for the same reason. To block me out, to shut himself off to the horror of reality but I won’t let him. Not me or my shiny friend, poised at the corner of his eyelid and ready to make him see it all.
The screams become almost unbearable before we’ve even finished the first eye, the knife and I. Peeling away the flesh, precisely and slowly. The only way to make it through the second is to cut out his tongue. “Now he can watch without all that whinging Daddy, he was giving me a headache…” I offer the bloody lump of redundant flesh as a gift but he waves his hand “You have it honey…I’ll just settle in here and watch you for a while. My clever little girl, I do so enjoy watching you do something you love. Now it was worth it, wasn’t it? All that silly crying and suffering…”
I nod my response without looking up, lost in those exposed eyes darting from side to side. Wondering how long before their light is extinguished.