A Love Lost

Ana

Once I closed the door. Hell began. The room had a large king bed and a bench at the foot of it. My father ordered me to place my hands on the bed and my knees on the bench. He stripped me of Gabriel's shorts and shirt before I got into the desired position.

My father was younger than my mother. When they had me, he was twenty-three and already at a large firm, and my mother was twenty-nine.

"One...two...three." I counted as he whipped his belt against my bare ass. It stung. It was painful, but not as painful as what was to come. He had just started.

"Have you missed me precious? I've missed you." He whispered in my ear.

He wrapped his hands around my chest and pulled my up against him. One hand remained tight on my upper abdomen while the other moved my hair over my right shoulder, then made its way down my body.

I wanted to cry, yell, anything, but I knew it would just make it worse.

Then, his hand made it to the most sensitive part of my anatomy. He began to plunge in and out of me.

"Someone else has been here." his tone was too familiar. It scared me. "Someone else has touched my property. You let them. You know what that means."

I squirmed in his hold.

"No. No. Please, Daddy. No."

He didn't care. I was his doll. I was the object which he took out his pain to receive pleasure.

He removed his hands. I fell, flat onto the mattress. I heard the sound of fabric rustling. He was removing his clothes. Hell had only begun. I was ready to die.

"Turn over," he ordered me.

I complied. Then he was on top of me and there was a sharp pain that radiated my body. He wasn't wasting his time. Thrust after thrust, each grew harder and more intense. He placed his hand around my neck, tightly. He was angry.

"I am going to make you come in ways he can't. In ways you never knew existed. I am going to remind you of whose property you are. And I am going to make you scream my name so loud that he can hear it from down the street. You may be my flesh and blood, but you will always be mine." He looked down at me, lightening his grip. "Say it."

He continued to pound into me. The liquid warmth began to pool. Then, unwillingly, it overflowed.

"Ah....Peter...." Against my better judgment, I cried his name out.

Then, I felt him pour into me.

He kept going. This time, he pulled my legs around his waist, latched my arms around his neck, stood up, walked over to the wall, spun me around, and continued from the rear.

Hell lasted for a total of one hundred and eighty minutes.

I replaced Gabriel's clothes.

"I gave you what you wanted. Now. Give me an answer." I demanded.

"Yes, baby?" Uggh. I wanted to throw up.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I heard about this Spanish businessman who married an American. Sure enough, it was your mother. I came to remind you both of what you left in America and how the past will always find you." He threatened.

"Leave. Now." I pointed to the door.

I was surprised when he complied.

When the door closed, I sank into a ball in the far corner of the room. My father had just used me once again.

After a few minutes, I drew up the courage to walk downstairs. When I made it to the foyer, I heard voices. It was my father. I walked outside.

"You psychopathic asshole!" Gabriel shouted at Peter.

"You are just mad because no one will ever fuck that bitch like I do. And you know that!" My father retaliated. Ignoring the fact that my mother stood five to ten feet behind him.

"You can't accept the fact that her sweet and delicious pussy belongs to me. Not you. You can't accept the fact that I can make her come in ways you will never." My father went on and on.

I saw Gabriel's hand twitch slightly. He was about to do something he would regret.

I hurried to his side and held his hand. He looked down at me. I couldn't look back at him. I was marked all over. Red blemishes from where he hit me and held me. Bruises from where I had been tossed around.

"I'm done. I told you to leave. Nicely. Now, I'm not. Get out of my sight. Get out of Spain. Leave Europe before you lose your only daughter. The only reason you have a career. You sick, psychotic, asshole. I never want to see you again." I began to cry.

"I thought that you genuinely loved me. No. Now I see that I was just another means to an end for you. You never loved me. You are incapable of love. I was never going to be treated like a normal daughter with you. You used me to get ahead. I can't even believe that you are my father. So, leave. You have no one here for you."

Then, without thinking, I returned his gesture. I curled my fist and punched him in his left cheek, knocking him over. Again. Again. Three times, I punched him. Finally, on the third one he received the message and left through the gate.