WAKE UP BUTTERFLY: A SURVIVOR'S STORY ON MIND CONTROL AND INDUSTRY ABUSE

Wake Up Butterfly #3

WARNING

This chapter contains highly triggering content involving incest and childhood sexual abuse / molestation. Reader discretion is advised.

CHAPTER THREE

I hugged my favorite stuffed animal to my chest as I lied in my bed in the dark. I had buried myself under heaps of blankets and was staring at the door through half open eyes as if bracing for impact.

The bomb was about to go off any minute now.

I could feel it.

Heavy footsteps, and then...

A familiar squeak.

The door opened and a shadowy figure entered into the darkness, looming at the foot of my bed for a long time without moving.

I squeezed my eyes shut, deciding my absolute best course of action would be to appear as if I was already asleep.

Minutes passed without a sound.

I was just about to risk it all and open my eyes to see if he had bought my rouse and left when the mattress dipped and my comforter was pulled slowly, ever so slowly off of my exposed body.

"Nyla..." his voice was soft. "Sugar, are you still awake?"

Jesus.

Did I LOOK awake?

A hand caressed my cheek. I involuntarily reacted, flinching, then squeezing my eyes shut more tightly at his deceptively gentle touch.

This was so utterly and completely wrong.

So why did it have to feel so disgustingly right?

He smiled that loving, trusting smile of his as soon as my eyes reluctantly fluttered open to meet his in the dark of my room. They were the same eyes, his and mine. The same smoldering pools of blue that said so much while saying so little. He knew that I could never resist him when he looked at me this way. How could I when he was advancing in on me like a panther stalking a most vulnerable prey?

Warm lips brushed up hard against mine and I instantly weakened. I hated how I always complied so willingly, so...dare I say...eagerly.

The kiss deepened and I melted into his touch like ice left out in the sun on a warm summer day, allowing him to draw me in closer as his persuasive tongue invaded my mouth without seeking permission.

This was wrong. This was wrong. This was wrong.

And yet...

Out came a muffled moan as large hands slid under my flimsy pajama shirt to caress my flesh, settling on my still budding breasts. I shuddered under the heat of his touch, yet my own hands went up to rest against his bare shoulders as if possessed with a mind of their own.

Oh, how I hated how pleased I was to realize that he wasn't wearing a shirt.

What kind of sick freak even was I?

Had every bad thing my mother ever said about me been the truth all along?

"Da..." My objection was silenced as warm lips detached from mine only so that my shirt could be pulled up over my head and sent flying across the room.

"Yes sweetheart?" there was that smile again.

My breathing become more ragged as his experienced hands went to work removing my pajama bottoms, and then, directly after that, my impossibly wet underwear.