by A. R. Braun
Dick nodded. “It’s a done deal.” He paused, feeling regret. “I brought your clothes and your little bunny rabbit.”
Stacey eyed the suitcases for a few seconds.
“I’ll be back in a couple of days. You’ve got cable TV, just basic. It’s all you need, really.” He looked her over. “Try to calm down.” He paused, deep in thought. “You want some cigarettes?”
She looked at him with all the heartbreak in the world in her eyes.
Dick let out a heavy sigh. The girl was about ready to climb the walls, and it upset him deep inside.
But it didn’t overpower his greed.
<^^>
Did she want cigarettes? She sure did, like never before. Stacey stopped and did her best to shoot him a hateful glance. She nodded, then resumed pacing.
“Cigarettes it is, then. I’ll get you some wine, too. It’ll calm you down.” He chuckled. “Maybe get you in the mood.”
She did her best to glance at him desperately. “Dad, if I let you do anything with me, and I mean anything, can I come home, please? I’ll break up with Kevin.”
Stacey hoped against hope, not knowing she’d be forsaking that foolish behavior soon.
<^^>
Dick shook his head. “You’ll run away, I know you will.” He paused, deep in thought again. He fought his heart, which wanted to give in to her pitiful pleading. “Well, that’s it, then.”
She gave him the most pathetic look he’d ever seen. Her eyes were two full moons of despair.
Dick turned around and walked out, locking her in. My God, the girl’s going nuts over it. Dick listened to his work boots squish on the concrete floor. Jesus, I can barely breathe in there. He came to the outer door and hefted it open, then the cool night air chilled him as he slammed the door shut and shoved the huge padlock into place.
It doesn’t matter if the girl goes nuts. A man’s got to have a decent cunt, and that’s it. That’s all women are, anyway—sex objects.
He chuckled at his cleverness as he strolled to the house.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
After a certain amount of time, the mind accepts things, no matter how terrible. Old age, disease, the brain learns to cope with them. A few days later, Stacey finally calmed down and knelt in front of the TV, her new altar. She took a Marlboro out of the red and white box and lit it with shaking hands. She coughed horribly, but kept smoking. It was all she had.
She flicked the ashes in the black ashtray Dick had bought her and turned on the television. The news reported her own story, how she’d run away with a cult leader.
My God, they really bought it.
She choked on her spit.
I don’t even exist anymore.
She turned it off, kept coughing, kept toking, rinse and repeat. Stacey lit another cigarette with the butt of the one she’d just smoked. Tears streamed down her face in droves.
God, I’m lonely.
She set the cigarette in the ashtray, put her face in her hands, and bawled.
When finished five minutes later, she noticed the cigarette had burned completely to the butt. She held the black lighter in front of her face. It looked blurry through her tears. She struggled to breathe even more. The air circulation in here wasn’t great and, that, she couldn’t get used to.
I could burn the place down. Just set everything on fire.
She considered this.
But then I’d die. Just burn in this airtight room, and no one would know. I’d check out from smoke inhalation.
She’d never thought about it before, but she looked around the room, checking for smoke detectors.
Not a one.
I’d die. That would show that fuckin prick, though.
A broken-hearted sob escaped her.
I can’t live like this.
She hobbled on shaky legs over to the bed, flicking the lighter and holding it close to the bed sheets. She tried to touch the cloth with it.
I don’t have the guts. I don’t know why, but I want to live.
She got up and searched the place. The one vent over the bed was very small, not anything she could crawl into. She walked over and looked at the washer and dryer by the toilet. The reinforced steel behind the machines made sure she couldn’t escape this dungeon from behind them.
She’d have to do laundry soon, the way she’d wet her pants for fear.
She walked into the kitchen and leaned over the stains on the stove and on the unwashed dishes.
I’ll have to clean that up or there’ll be bugs.
That made her bolt upright. She hadn’t thought about insects. Dick probably didn’t spray for them. That would mean roaches, no matter how much she cleaned up.
And mice. Maybe rats.
Panicking again, she resumed pacing.
The door rattled and opened. Dick walked in, smiling. He shut the door behind him and locked it.
“Lu-cy, I’m home,” Dick said in his best Ricky Ricardo voice. “And I’m hor-ny!”
<^^>
Kevin sat in cap and gown at graduation. He scanned the football field for Stacey as he fidgeted in his folding chair. The warm June day’s sun caressed the crowd like incubus’s and succubus’s. Stacey wasn’t in sight, as he’d suspected she wouldn’t be.
My girlfriend, running away with a Moonie. Bullshit! Something funny’s going on.
He had a hard time concentrating on the graduation, just wanted to run over to Stacey’s house and break in so he could find out what really happened to her.
But if I break in and the cops arrest me, there goes my future. I can go to college, and I would’ve turned that down for Stacey. It was kind of weird how she wanted to get married and move in together at eighteen. Maybe what happened isn’t such a bad thing.
But my heart aches so much for her!
Off to his left, a vivacious blonde gave Kevin the eye and tempted him to discard his feelings for Stacey. A cool, comforting breeze blew through his hair. He wondered if a new life in a bigger city would revitalize him after all.
Then his heart jabbed him, and he wanted nothing but Stacey.
How am I ever going to find another girl as sweet as her?
He looked to his right. Jenna forked him a look of hate.
She’s mad at me because I took Stacey away from her. Plus, none of my buddies wanted to date her because she’s geeky. But if she only knew something fishy was going on with Stacey.
Kevin heard someone call his name.
Time to go get my diploma and start my new life.
<^^>
Smoking a Marlboro and trying to get drunk on wine, Stacey sat in front of the TV. She’d drunk most of the booze the last two nights and only caught a light buzz tonight. She’d cleaned up and hadn’t seen any bugs, so she’d decided not to worry about it.
Everyone’s forgotten about me. I’m not alive to anyone but my foster father.
Last night, she’d stared at the ceiling after Dick raped her. Full of shock, she’d eventually drifted off to sleep anyway, but it had taken some effort.
Dick had decided to put his cock into her backdoor.
She sat on a pillow, but her caboose still ached from being bored out by what might as well have been a garden hoe. The reality of the situation set in fully. No one would ever come for her. She’d exist—and that was the word, instead of live—simply a cunt for her adopted father to fuck… and sometimes a butt. A dread ten times worse than she’d ever felt in Dick and Marie’s house took her and shook her like a rag doll.
At least there, I was rich, and I could go to school and date.
She missed Kevin so, the love of her life now gone. Tears streamed down her face. Ellen came on and Stacey identified with her lesbianism. Men, they’re horrid dogs. Kevin won’t rescue me.
No, don’t feel that way. Dick will kill him if he tries.
She drained the rest of the bottle of Night Train Express.
Without shoes and socks on, Stacey winced. Something crawled on her foot and made her itch. She reach
ed down to scratch it, and a hard shell and feelers brushed her fingers. She looked downward.
A cockroach rested on her foot. It was as big as her thumb.
Stacey screamed and brushed it off. Squealing, she ran to her bed and stood on it, cringing in disgust.
Oh my god, where there’s one, there’s more. They’re all over! They’ll be crawling on me when I sleep, creeping into my ears!
Panicking and wobbling a bit, Stacey stepped off the bed and paced again. She sobered up quickly. When Stacey worked her way into the kitchen with the bathroom right next to it, she noticed the brown stains that grew on the tiles behind the toilet.
At eighteen, she wasn’t the best cleaner.
She spotted a mouse staring at her from behind the toilet. Fearless, it sat looking at her, twitching its nose. Stacey shrieked, ran to the bed, and jumped onto it. Soon, she paced back and forth on the mattress.
In hell.
<^^>
Jenna walked up to Kevin after graduation. She knew she looked silly in her cap and gown—hell, she always looked silly, like a female clown; God had cursed her that way—but she thought Kevin looked excellent in his cap and gown, the bastard.
“Kevin, where’s Stacey?” Jenna asked. “I mean, not that I care…”
Kevin shook his head, his eyes looking sad.
“What?” Jenna asked.
He glanced up at her with a tear rolling down his cheek. “Her parents claim she ran away with a cult leader. They wouldn’t let me in when I knocked, so I called the cops.”
“No kiddin?”
“Haven’t you been watching the news?”
Jenna shook her head, feeling the breeze ruffle her collar-length hair. “Nah, the news is so boring.” She chuckled. “So, how does it feel to have her taken away from you?”
“Jenna, I don’t want to get into this with you right now. I’m sorry my buddies didn’t like you, all right?”
Jenna laughed. “Imagine, that pretty little devil, running away with some cult leader. That’s just like her.”
Kevin scowled. “It isn’t true! Don’t you get it? Stacey and I were in love! Her crazy dad’s done something with her.”
“Geez, calm down, friend stealer and panic squealer. You’ll find another girl, as handsome as you are. You could probably have any girl in this school.” She harrumphed. “Going to college?”
Kevin sighed. “I guess I am now.”
“A degree isn’t a guarantee of a good job and wealth, you know. It’s just a piece of paper. That’s what my dad says, anyway.”
Man, I’m on a roll.
“Whatever,” Kevin answered.
The clouds grew dark, and a chilly wind harassed Jenna and Kevin.
She gazed upward, guessing it looked like rain. “So, you really think the old man stashed her? Sounds pretty far-fetched to me.”
“Never mind, you don’t believe me.”
She paused, took a deep breath, and checked her anger. “All right, I’m sorry. I’ll listen, honest Injun.”
“The first time we went out, her old man followed us.”
“I know about the Addam’s Family parents. But to suggest he’s hiding her in the attic or something, that’s kind of mondo bizarro. Why don’t you just accept she’s run off with some moody, religious type?” She snickered. “You’ll get used to losing Stacey. I did.”
With that, Jenna walked off proudly, laughing inside.
<^^>
Stacey eventually got used to the bugs and mice. She’d begged Dick to spray and put out mice and rat poison, but he wouldn’t. He just handed her a can of raid, which didn’t work, and some mouse traps, which perfunctorily worked. She’d tried to spray the bug spray in his face, but he’d slapped the can away and punched her. She’d sported a shiner for a month.
During the first nine months, she’d hoped someone would find out about his hiding place and rescue her. As time went on, she gave up on it.
Now, she had a loaded ice box because her stomach jutted out with a baby… her foster father’s baby.
“How’s that for creepy?” she said to herself.
She surprised herself by answering, “Yup, that’s pretty creepy. I’m carrying my father’s baby.
“I know it.” Stacey struggled to walk to the fridge for another pickle sandwich, grabbing her back to steady the heavy weight she was lugging around. “It’s sure hard to walk when you’re preggers.”
She made the sandwich, squeezed on some mustard, and set a few cheese slices on it for good measure. She grabbed a Coke and struggled over to the front of the TV to watch Wheel of Fortune. “Time to watch Vanna White and Pat Sajak again.
“Yes, it’s time. Spin the wheel, win the prizes. Get a fucking yacht.
“I know it,” she agreed with herself.
The pain in her lower back and the back of her pelvis made her groan. She sat down carefully in an easy chair in front of the TV.
“I’m so fat, it’s disgusting.
“You’re right,” she agreed with herself. “And I hate morning sickness.”
She chomped her sandwich, feeling like a pig while Vanna looked lovely as ever.
“Must be nice to have a normal life and a body like that.
“You know it, girlfriend.”
She chomped another bite and continued her soliloquy with her mouth full. “Well, I’ll tell ya one thing, at least Dick doesn’t want to fuck me when I’m pregnant.
“But he does like getting squirted with titty milk while he jacks off.”
She gagged. “Oh, that’s gross. I just lost my appetite.
“No kidding.”
Discarding her sandwich, she looked at how pale her skin was getting without any sunlight.
“I need to ask Dick for a tanning bed.” She laughed. “Ha! Fat chance.”
She sat still for a few minutes while rage brewed on the backburner, then she rose and pounded on the windowless walls while she screamed.
<^^>
Dick came by with more groceries at 9:00 p.m. Stacey glanced up at him from the easy chair. She did her best to give him a look of contempt.
He gazed around the apartment and shook his head. “Can’t you do a better job of cleaning? You’ve got brown stains all over the tiles.”
“Can’t you do a better job of being a father?” Stacey asked. “Well, grandfather now, you sick pervert.”
He frowned and furrowed his brow before setting the groceries on the small card table she used for dining in the kitchen. When he came back into the “living room,” he put his hands on his hips. “Don’t make me beat your ass so you’ll lose the baby.”
Stacey shrugged. “It’s your baby. Do what you want.”
He scowled. “You fat heifer. You need to exercise and lose some weight after you have that kid.”
She scowled back. “Help me up. I’ll do some exercises on your head, you kidnapping tyrant.”
“I’ll ignore that. You’re just irritable because you’re pregnant.”
Stacey laughed. “Yeah, that and you holding me prisoner and raping me. Jesus, why would I be irritable?”
He smiled and walked over to her, unbuckling his pants. “Get over it. It’s time to milk the cow.”
She looked at him, actually feeling lusty inside. After all, he was her only sexual experience.
Am I getting Stockholm Syndrome?
Something told her to fight it. Was it god? She didn’t know, but she knew he’d let her down. She wiped her face as if to wipe away this horrid situation.
I should squirt it in Dick’s eyes. No, that’ll only get me another beating.
“Hurry up, bitch,” he said.
When he’d shod his pants and boxer shorts, his ugly, wrinkled dick stood fully erect. He helped her up and led her over to the bed. Dick sat next to her, and she turned toward him while he undid the buttons of her shirt. She yanked off her bra and he sucked at the swollen nipples. She grabbed the sides of her breasts and shot milk into his mouth, which stank of beer. As he jacked
off, she actually pressed her fingers into her vagina and masturbated. God, she hated herself.
Fight it. From now on, I’m just gonna masturbate to the hot men on TV.
When it ended, with his stinky cum on her bed sheets—along with hers—she wondered about how she was going to have the baby.
He helped her into the living room, where she reclined on the sofa.
“Are you at least going to take me to a hospital to have the baby?” she asked.
He headed toward the door, then turned around and chuckled. “Yeah, right. Boil some water.”
“Are you kidding me?”
But Dick was already out the door, locking it behind him. He’d given her a bible, and it lay on the coffee table. Stacey picked it up. She threw it at the door. It thunked and then ker-plunked onto the carpet.
The lock turned and he opened the door again. “Did you just throw something at me?”
Stacey tried her best to fork him the evil eye. “Yeah, you can take your fuckin bible and shove it up your ass! Your god never showed me any mercy, you Baptist fuck!”
He picked up the black book and shook it at her. “None of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t been so rebellious. Know this, Stacey, the minute we brought you home, you were nothing but trouble. Well, I showed you, kept you in line, didn’t I?” He sighed. “It’s all your fault.”
He went out the door and locked it.
“IT’S NOT MY FAULT YOU’RE A GODDAMNED RAPIST, YOU EVIL PIECE OF SHIT!”
I don’t know if he even heard that.
“You tell him, Stacey,” she said to herself.
“You know I will, girlfriend,” she agreed with herself.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Stacey woke in the middle of the night to a spiking pain in her nose. Had Dick sneaked in here and shoved something up it? She blinked her bleary eyes and raised her hand in that direction.
Whatever it was, it moved.
White-hot anxiety shot through her. As she reached into her left nostril, she felt a chitinous shell, as well as feelers writhing around, trying to go down her throat.
It’s a cockroach!
Stacey screamed and ran for the toilet, knowing she was going to throw up. She reached it just in time and vomited into the bowl, the yellowish-green concoction also shooting out of her nose.