Storybook

PLEASE READ THE WARNING!

Disclaimer: I just write fanfics. No ownage here.
Rating: NC-17
Warning: this story isn't like my other ones. First of all, even I don't really like the pairing, but I liked the idea of the story. So, if M/F parent/child incest bothers you, please do not read this fanfic. More importantly, my style here is very different from my other fics. It's supposed to read much like an extremely twisted children's book - hence, the title. That's why sentences are somewhat simple, names aren't used, and synonyms are sparse. Please try to remember that as you read this. It is written the way it is on purpose.

"Storybook"


Even when it hurt, she always forgave him.

She wasn’t sure why she did, but it happened all the same. He would pat her head, tell her she was a good girl, kiss her on the forehead and wish her goodnight.

And all she could ever say in return was “Goodnight, Daddy. I love you too.”

After he left, she would use her sheet to wipe herself off. That girl didn’t like sleeping when she was covered with sweat and... other things. But Daddy said she looked pretty that way. She didn’t like it.

Every day was like this, it seemed.

It always felt wrong, but that girl didn’t understand the reasons why until it was too late. After all, she was only seven years old the first time it happened. No child deserves to have her innocence marred at such an age. Still, it’s so tough to protest something when you don’t know for sure that it’s bad. And Daddy always ended it with a loving smile, so how could she have known?

When she went to school, sometimes the teachers saw funny marks on her, but they never said anything. In spite of everything, she seemed as happy as any other kid. She would run and play and talk about how much she loved Mommy and Daddy, just like anyone else. So how could there be anything wrong? Maybe she just played rough. Yes, they were sure that was it. Besides, it’s best not to get involved in other people’s lives, isn’t it? It’s just a big messy problem, and nobody wants that - certainly not that girl.

When she got a little older, she almost got a boyfriend, but that young lady knew that her Daddy would be upset. Oh. But she called him “Father” now. “Father” is a more appropriate name for a teenage girl’s dad, right? But sometimes, late at night when he visited her, she still called him Daddy.

It felt good now sometimes. That made her feel even more bad than when it hurt, for some reason. But she wouldn’t tell her Daddy ‘no.’ She loved him, and he loved her, and he still called her a pretty girl every time she had that sticky stuff all over her. She still didn’t like that stuff, and she still used her sheet to wipe herself off afterwards, but for Daddy she would stay sticky – just for a little while.

Daddy liked her eyes. He always said that one came from him, and one came from Mommy. That’s why they were so different looking. That girl loved her mommy’s eyes, and her hair, and her pretty, pretty face. She adored Mommy, and she wanted to be with her all the time. Mommy didn’t talk to anyone but Daddy and that girl. That girl wondered if Mommy was ever lonely with just the two of them there.

She asked Mommy one day, and Mommy said, “I love you, sweetie. I just need you and Daddy and I’ll always be happy.”

Another year went by, and Daddy started to look at that girl more. She had a rounded chest now, and although she thought it got in the way, Daddy really liked that roundness. She wore a uniform at her new school now, and Daddy liked to tell her to take off her bra and just wear the white blouse during those late nights. Daddy liked the way that looked, and he liked to touch and move her roundness when she was wearing that. He liked that girl to wear her uniform without her bra or panties, and he often asked her to do it on those late, late nights.

Now that she was older, it felt very, very good. This year, Daddy even used his mouth between her legs. She enjoyed that so very much. Sometimes, he would use that other hole down there. It hurt when he did that, but she loved Daddy, and he loved her, and she would endure because she knew Daddy liked it.

But now, it felt more wrong than ever.

Daddy couldn’t go without seeing that sticky stuff on her now. And now he made her take showers with him afterwards – to clean her up, he said. He liked to touch her in the shower, and sometimes they would get all messy in there, too. She didn’t like that. It wasn’t comfortable to stand for so long while she was being shoved against the wall over and over.

The teachers in school now didn’t say anything either, just like the other ones. They all thought she had a boyfriend, and even though they didn’t think it was right for her at that age, they didn’t want to get involved in another person’s problems. Would you?

Mommy always stayed in bed now. Daddy said she was sick, but that girl wasn’t so sure. The doctors didn’t say anything was wrong, and Daddy didn’t seem worried. So, that girl just made sure to tell Mommy about school each day and snuggle her before bed each night, hoping that Mommy would feel better in the morning.

Another year passed, and that girl was very round and curvy. Daddy liked her more than ever. He even started bringing special toys into her bedroom on those late, late nights. He liked her in her uniform, making herself feel good with those toys. Daddy liked to touch himself when she played with her own body. And then, he would move inside of her himself, over and over, while pushing another one of those toys into her other hole down there. That girl learned to enjoy that other hole sometimes now – if Daddy was gentle enough.

Daddy loved that sticky stuff all over her, now. Sometimes, he had to get all messy in the shower twice, and he didn’t always let her rinse it off. He enjoyed the way she looked, all sticky and wet. Daddy liked kissing her now, too. Very long, wet kisses that that girl did not like at all.

But she loved Daddy, and he loved her, and she would do it if it made Daddy happy.

But she felt very, very, very bad and wrong and dirty now. It was hard to smile for Daddy when he patted her head, told her she was a good girl, kissed her on the forehead, and wished her goodnight.

Mommy spent most of her time sleeping now. She only ate one big meal a day, and she looked very thin. She sometimes called that girl other names and didn’t always recognize Daddy. But that girl loved Mommy all the same, and told her about school each day, and snuggled her before bed each night.

Two more months passed, and Mommy was very, very sick. Daddy had only visited that girl late at night a few times in those months, and she began to wonder if something was wrong. Daddy spent all of his time in the basement now, reading musty old books and ignoring that girl. She couldn’t tell Mommy about school anymore, and she couldn’t snuggle her before bed each night, but that girl always made sure to kiss her on the forehead before she left for school each day.

That girl was lonely now, but she still loved Daddy and Mommy, and she tried very, very hard to be brave for them both.

Then, one snowy day, school was let out early. That girl wanted to rush home to Daddy and make lunch for him, since he hadn’t been eating a lot either. She came quietly through the back door, as she always did, and put her backpack right in the spot it always sat. She trotted up the stairs to see if Mommy was awake, and was surprised to see the door almost shut.

Mommy never had her door shut.

Carefully, that girl peeked in, her pretty brown eye seeing right through the small crack in the door. Daddy was in the room. But Daddy had very strange candles and very old things in the room all around the bed. Mommy had four chains wrapped around her thin arms and thin legs, and her pretty eyes on her sickly face were closed. She was breathing, but not awake.

Daddy was sitting on top of Mommy, whispering funny sounding words, and that girl couldn’t understand any of them. She opened her mouth to speak, but there was a sudden glow all around Daddy. He raised something high above his head and kept speaking. That girl shivered in fright. It all seemed very scary. She looked closer, and the thing he was holding was... a sword? Why would Daddy have a sword? And such a small one at that!

Daddy kept chanting, his whispers getting louder and louder, until he was calling out his funny mantra. All at once, he stopped talking. Red and orange and yellow and black colors swirled all around Daddy and Mommy, and they got closer and closer to the sword.

Very slowly, Mommy opened her eyes. Daddy seemed surprised by this, but she was too dazed to even see him holding such a sharp sword high above her heart. She moved her lips, but no sound came out. Daddy paused, and leaned closer, to listen as she murmured a little question:

“--------? Where is my darling little --------? Is she back from school yet?”

Daddy’s hands shook, and he looked very nervous. That girl had never seen Daddy like this before. Ever so slowly again, Mommy tilted her head, just a bit. She was looking at the door. That girl’s pretty brown eye did not dare to blink, for fear that Mommy would see it.

Daddy closed his eyes tightly once, and Mommy said:

“--------?”

...just as Daddy brought the sword down to pierce her weak little heart.

Daddy whirled around to look at the door, and a look of horror crossed his face as he caught sight of the wide, but pretty brown eye peeking in. There was a quick line of saltwater panickedly making its way down that girl’s cheek. She gasped, and turned around, just wanting to run far, far away from this. Daddy tried to get off of Mommy and her bed, to grab that girl and stop her, but he couldn’t help but yell and cry out when the red and orange and yellow and black colors swirled around him and pushed through his body and forced him to the carpet.

The door flew open, and everything in the room whipped around and broke. Mommy’s blood flew all over the walls, painting them in crisscross reds. That girl froze for a moment, and then ducked and things flew over her head.

Daddy was groaning so, so loudly. He was in pain, but she didn’t know why. She didn’t dare move, either away from him or towards.

A minute passed, and the wind died down. Mommy’s blood had crisscrossed on Daddy’s side and cheek and that girl had a few lines over her face and white blouse. Daddy lifted his head, holding a hand to one side of it, but that girl could see the red and orange and yellow and black colors pulsating around on his face beneath that hand and she felt very scared.

Daddy stood up, looking into Mommy’s broken mirror with a look of horror. He saw his writhing scar – the mark of his newly failed evil spell. He could only stare at himself for a few moments, unbelieving that all of these years of making Mommy sick and weak had been for nothing.

He turned to his daughter very, very slowly, his face going dark and cruel. It was her fault, wasn’t it? If Mommy hadn’t seen her, he would have been able to finish the spell. He would have been strong now. He could have had his little daughter all to himself as the harlequin of a devil. Of a god.

He moved towards her patiently, carefully. That girl was rooted to her spot, frozen by her own terror. She trembled all over, but could not move. With one smooth gesture, Daddy thrust out his arm and pushed her at the staircase.

Down, down, down...

Tumbling, cracking, snapping, bruising, gashing...

After a small eternity of agony, that girl hit the hard wooden floor at the base of the stairs. All she could do was look up wide-eyed at her daddy descending the staircase, her battered, broken body refusing to move at all now. She couldn’t even tremble.

Daddy leaned in very close to her for a second, his new scar pulsing furiously. Then, he grabbed that girl’s hair, dragging her into the carpeted living room. She whimpered, but could not struggle.

He laid her flat on the floor, ripping her red-stained blouse apart, ruining her bra. He grabbed her roundness roughly enough to bruise, pulled at her hair, and moved his head down to bite angrily at her neck.

She found some small strength in her legs, and moved them weakly to struggle, despite how her ankle screamed out to her in agony. Daddy bit harder, making her bleed. He moved his head down and bit her other roundness fiercely, making it bleed, too. She cried out in protest.

That girl moved her arms just a little now, and her shoulder made her wince terribly. Daddy kept biting down to her stomach, sucking up the streams of blood. He took his hand from her roundness and grabbed her panties so powerfully that he ripped them off in one violent tug. He shoved all four of his fingers inside of her frightened body, and she clenched her inner walls around him. He pulled his hand from her hair and smacked her across the face.

She finally started to shake again, and trembled even moreso when Daddy pulled out his hard part in his pants and rammed it into her hurting little body. He thrusted, over and over and over, too rough for anyone to enjoy it at all. She was sure she was bleeding inside, and her head thrashed from side to side in pain, making it hurt even more with the strain in her neck.

Daddy pounded and pounded, and it was all that girl could do to just accept it. He started moving faster and faster, harder and harder, and she knew she would be covered in the sticky stuff soon. Maybe Daddy would leave her alone then. She knew she shouldn’t hope for it. It wouldn’t happen. But she thought Daddy loved her, and she... did she love him?

No... Daddy murdered Mommy! Killed her right before her eyes!

That girl struggled and strained, finding more and more strength as she kept imagining Mommy’s body, covered in her own blood.

Daddy slammed into her brutally a few more times, and she readied herself for him to pull out and spray himself all over her bared torso.

Her entire body jerked as she felt an incredible, uncomfortable hotness shoot into her over and over, Daddy going stiff above her body.

She didn’t like it. She didn’t like it at all! She wanted Daddy out of her, now! Why didn’t he take himself out of her? He always did before. Always!

She whimpered and struggled more, but Daddy just pulled her close, painfully. He finally pulled his part out of her body. It was softer now, and she thought he was done. But Daddy moved up beside her, whispering words she had only heard from her classmates and in some of the dirty movies Daddy liked to sometimes watch before they spent their late, late nights together. He was ordering her to do something, but she didn’t know how she could just command her body to do... that.

He viciously rubbed the little nub at the top of her hole, growling at her angrily to do what he wanted her to. That girl tried to feel good, but everything ached! She just couldn’t do what he ordered when it hurt so much – and his rubbing didn’t feel good at all! She wanted to tell him to use his mouth like he sometimes did if he wanted her to do that, but she was scared he would hit her again.

So, that girl tried to relax her body, tried to do what he wanted. She started to feel the familiar buzz between her legs. If only he would slow down a little bit, she might be able to get there. She moved her hips a little bit, even though it hurt. She bit her lip, feeling the buzz get stronger as his rubbing was angled a little differently.

She reached one hand down shakily, and touched the bit of skin just below her nub and his hand, trying to make it feel good, even though she was sore inside. The buzz was enough now to make her move a little pleasurably, even though the nub was really the only part that didn’t hurt so badly.

Daddy whispered into her ear, licking the outside of it. His muttering grew a little louder and he saw her getting close to her limit. He needed to see this. Needed to see that his daughter was his and his alone.

Despite how it made her gasp in pain as well, she used what little strength she had to shift her hips roughly, and finally...

...her body blossomed into its climax, and that girl felt the more horrible dirty feeling she had ever known creep into her senses.

After she calmed, Daddy stood up slowly, and told her he was taking a shower. He left her broken body on the living room floor, bleeding and aching.

No matter what that girl did, she somehow just couldn’t bring herself to love Daddy.

She heard the water turn on. She didn’t move.

She heard another minute tick by on the clock. She didn’t move.

She heard the sounds of children playing outside. She didn’t move.

She thought of her mother.

And bit by painful bit, she stood up.

Broken ankle, broken collarbone, twisted shoulder, sprained wrist. Her body exposed. Cuts. Gashes. Her own blood. On her face. Her mother’s blood. In between her legs, her father’s essence.

She blinked her pretty eyes once, twice. And she slowly moved towards the front door. Slowly, slowly. The water turned off upstairs. Slowly, slowly. She reached for her long school coat. Movement in the bathroom. She shouldered her backpack. A door opening.

She left her house, taking one step after another on the snow-covered sidewalk. One step. Two steps. Three. Faster. Quicker.

Run.

Pure agony accompanied every step, but as she did her headlong flight, she felt safer, safer. No more of that place. No more pain. No more late nights. No more violation. No more beating.

No more Mommy.

She ran as fast as she could, relying on strength that she didn’t even know was there. She whimpered and gasped at the pain, and hot tears stained her cheeks. Droplets of blood hit the snow behind her.

She wasn’t pretty anymore. Couldn’t talk to Mommy and snuggle her each night. Couldn’t get a pat on the head, an assurance of what a good girl she was, a kiss on the forehead, or a wish goodnight.

No more hurt.

No more forgiveness.

A pain welled up that had nothing to do with her body and that girl fell to the snow-covered ground. Tears, hot tears, blistering tears and a wail that would make the devils cry in mercy for her.

No more Daddy.

Never again.


~End~ 12/8/06

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Thanks for reading! I hope you liked that, and I hope it wasn't too weird. I wasn't sure on all of the tags I marked, since this story doesn't exactly detail the happenings of the intercourse, but I figured it was better to be safe than sorry. Obviously, I'd be grateful for some feedback. ^_^

Oh, and one more thing. My beta hadn't entirely looked this over yet, so I apologize if there are any unintentional grammatical errors. I try to proofread as I'm writing, as well as afterwards, but I don't always catch everything.