Chapter 7

Terry had arrived before Stace returned from school, waiting for her at the front door.

“Don’t run, slut spawn.” He cautioned in a mild voice when Stace spied him. “And if you call the police, I’ll say you’re just a racist white girl hating on a poor black man down on his luck.”

“Get - out of here!” She stammered.

“I will. As soon as I get my due.”

“Mamma’s at work.”

“I can wait until then.” He grinned and pulled a worn, faded Rubik’s cube from his pocket.

“Get away from our door.” Stacy ordered, calming somewhat.

“Nope. I’m sticking right here, until your mamma gives what she owes me.”

Stace drew on her well tended pluck. “Don’t move.” She plucked keys from her jacket and ignored the fat black man while she unlocked the door.

“You’re as stupid as she is.” Terry pushed his way into our home, catching my daughter up in his wake. He shut the door behind him.

Stace ran to the end of the short hall. It was as far as she could get from her mother’s rapist. “Daddy! Help me!”

Grumbles and a crash of a box against carpet sounded from behind the master bedroom door. It opened, and Donald wobbled in the gap, holding onto the knob and wall for dear life. “Honey?” His eyes couldn’t focus on the daughter shaped blob before him.

“It’s that man.” She squealed. “He forced his way in.”

Donald looked up. “You fucking bastard.” Words dripped out of my husband’s mouth like blobs of jelly, without force.

“Is that any way to set an example for your child?” Terry goaded. “You’re pathetic effort to withdraw by reducing your doses has put you in a sorry state.”

“Go to hell.” More jelly.

“I can help you.” Terry sneered and advanced.

Stace, smartly darted into her room and shut herself in. It was her most experienced skill.

Terry loomed before Donald and grabbed my husband’s upper arms. He pushed his way into the bedroom and threw Donald on the bed.

“The needle you’re using must be pretty nasty by now. Ah, I see you have a bottle of chlorine bleach. You’re pretty smart for a stupid junkie.” He pulled an unopened hypodermic and packet of shit from his left pocket. “Still, needles dull quickly, and you been poking yourself with low doses but a lot of doses. Haven’t you?”

“I don’t want it.”

Stacy listened at the wall separating her room from ours. She sighed at her father’s incoherent mumbling for several minutes, until he gave a final yip.

Less than a minute later, Terry’s lumbering out and down the hall could be heard next door in all three dimensions. “I’ll be waiting in the living room.” He emphasized. “For what your mother owes me.”

Hunger lured Stacy out of her room. She hadn’t eaten after asking a teacher for lunch money. Her belly grumbled after waiting until I was suppose to return. She gambled on a quick dash to the fridge. Then eat whatever she found, in her room. She slipped out quietly.

Terry sneered masterfully when the refrigerator door opened. “Women always turn to food to feel secure.”

Stace wisely ignored him. There wasn’t much in the fridge. Her father having been useless for several weeks, the household was spiraling into ruin. She found bread and jam. Everything else needed chopping or cooking.

“Keep me company while you eat, and I’ll go easy on your Mom.” Said as if I was to blame for his hunger.

Terry didn’t know much about my daughter, but he figured one young teen was much like any other, torn between rebellion and self-preservation which meant sticking by her family. He gave himself even odds that he could exact a worse revenge for my mistake that morning.

He was sitting on the busted couch. We hadn’t touched it since our fucking broke its spine. His thoughts drifted away, as a homeless man could, waiting for coins to drop in his cup.

Stace appeared between the kitchen and the living room. She nibbled her sandwich. “Don’t you dare touch me.”

“Wouldn’t cross my mind.” Terry hid a fresh sneer.

My daughter stood back to the far wall.

“You don’t have to say anything.” The liar promised. “I won’t.”

Stace despised being afraid of the man, but hours had passed since his forced entry. Her fear had ebbed at the lack of further provocation.

Stace took a large bite of hers, to prove she wasn’t afraid of him. Without peanut butter, it was a lousy sandwich.

The silence bothered her. She wanted to hide in her room, but that would show weakness. True to his word, he hadn’t said anything. He didn’t even look at her. She didn’t guess the reason behind his patience.

Silence in the room persisted. Stace burst quietly. “Why are you so angry at my Mom? Didn’t she spend the night with you?” Words that tasted awful.

The fat invader couldn’t prevent a slight grin. “Do you really want the answer?”

“No.” Stace spat before thinking. “I mean, it’s probably a stupid excuse to barge in here.”

“Probably.” Terry looked at the lifeless TV.

“Wh-what did she do?” Stace fell stupidly into his trap.

Terry put down the crust left in his hand. “It’s what she didn’t do. She should have known better. I made a trade in good faith, and she came up short.”

“We don’t have a lot of money.”

He simply snorted.

“What, you’re capable of good faith?” Stace tried to score a point.

“Sometimes, maybe. That’s not what’s important. Your mother owes me. I came to collect.”

“It’s probably gross.”

“It probably is.” He glared, “To everyone except me. But you’ve already seen it. I doubt it would shock a peeping brat like you.”

Stace couldn’t look at his fierce eyes. She glanced down. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I saw you a couple times, watching your mom and I right here. It was gross, and you watched us anyway.”

“I w-was just curious. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“It doesn’t mean much.” He agreed, “Except you haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

“You’re crazy.” Stace moved towards the hall.

“Run and hide, then. What do I care. But you’ll sneak out when you hear your mom paying me back with interest.” He chuckled, “Her interest and yours.”

Predictably, my foolish daughter’s pride stopped her. She spun around. “I’m not afraid of you. I don’t care how ugly you are.”

Terry almost lost his cool affectation. He took three breaths, eyes blazing. He was going to break this baby bitch. Calmer, he said. “Of course not. I haven’t hurt anyone.”

“You made my dad sick!” Stace yelled. Tears formed around her eyes.

“It was a kindness.” Terry raised his voice to meet hers. “He’s only sick because he rejected my kindness.”

“I know about addiction.” Was all Stace could say. She knew she should be in her room, waiting for her mother. This horrible man made her so angry, she had to confront him.

“You don’t know, shit, you simple twat.” Terry goaded. “Your father has learned everything there is about it. Do you really want to know? I can teach it to you in a few short days.”

My daughter trembled. “You’re evil!”

“I am, but that doesn’t make you any better, or smarter.”

“Why won’t you just leave?” She was almost bawling.

“I’m here for what I’m due, and I’ll leave as soon as I get it.” He worded the last phrase carefully.

“GET WHAT?”

Terry snorted and grabbed his belt buckle with both hands. In an instant he unfastened it and zipped open his pants. Hard cock sprang into my daughter’s view! “Take a look.” He forced his voice softer. “Your mother cunt failed to clean the cum off of me before leaving.”

Stace recoiled from the suddenness of the awful man’s sporting prick! She nearly ran to her room, but his words stung her curiosity. She remembered how he forced me to suck him clean after my rape. She couldn’t understand why I submitted to that vile business post coitus. He had given her an ultimate dare. What does cum look like on a hard penis, if it wasn’t washed off? Her eyes glanced at his crotch.

“You can’t see how much of a mess your mother left on me. Not from there. I won’t touch you. This is her debt.” He pulled his rotund belly away for a clearer view.

Stace took one step closer. Terry leaned back, resting assured he would get satisfaction sooner than later.

The adolescent kept her distance, until her nerves calmed. She took another step. Specks of white dotted it, but they were too small to see well. She moved closer.

“It is gross.” Terry complained softly. “That’s why I make her clean me.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“I have my limits. A dirty cock is the worst thing. I won’t stand for it.” He lied. I doubt Terry had washed his dick within the last twelve months. The first time I tasted it, it was as sickening as a sewer grate.

Stace came close enough to touch the hard pole if she reached far. She had never seen a penis this close. It was gross, white flakes on black skin with a red head flaring from its foreskin. Her instincts conflicted. This kind of thing would be inside her someday. She could not deny her honest sexuality. It would fuck her and spill its cum up her baby chute. She had masturbated excitedly to such thoughts.

The stronger instinct was fear. It was a rapist’s cock. Worse, Terry, had destroyed her father with drugs and was destroying her mother with the fat pipe standing before her.

“I don’t see why you wouldn’t wash it off this morning. Why let it stay this gross all day?”

“Satisfaction.” He growled. “I aim to get it. I rather it be sooner than later. Where is your cunt mother? What’s taking her so long?”

“Pfft! I’ll bring you a wet cloth.”

“Were it that simple, I’d use it.”

During their ongoing discourse, time slowly inoculated my daughter’s proper revulsion of the nasty prick in front of her. Her mother had had that same shaft in her mouth, when cum on it was fresh. She asked herself, had I also sucked it clean when it was this disgusting? Her opinion of my sluttiness fell lower than a gutter.

“If I washed it with a cloth, would you leave then?”

“What? You think I would accept you to pay what your mom owes me?” Terry’s lumbering heart nearly stopped.

“Yeah. Any fat old loser would want a pretty girl to wash his dick.” She felt bold saying that.

“Hey! I’m not forty yet.” Terry chuckled amicably. “What do you mean, old?”

“Old enough to go to jail.”

“I got plenty reasons for that.” His voice darkened but remained playful.

“Well?”

“You really want to wash my dick?”

“No. But if it gets you out of here, I’d consider it.”

“I’ll be the one considering, young lady, if you do it to my satisfaction.” He had said he wanted satisfaction.

“I’m not going to jack you off.”

“That’s not what your mother owes me.”

“You want the whole thing clean? Balls too?”

“Those are especially nasty.”

Stace couldn’t understand how she was able to even talk about making a deal with this proven villain.

“How do I know you’ll leave?”

“You already know I’m a fat liar. Why ask?”

“I want you gone.”

“I want to be gone. That’s all I can promise.”

Stace made the decision she would forever regret. “I’ll get soap water and a hand towel.”

“You do that.” He relaxed outwardly. Inside, he couldn’t believe the baby bitch was going to give him a cock wash! With luck, he’d get way more than the stupid twat bargained for. But he had to play it cool before then. “Just so you know, if your mother gets here, and you’re not finished, I’ll make her do it the way she was supposed to this morning. But if it makes you feel better, you’ll have made it less gross for her.”

Stace’s stomach churned at the thought. She wished on all the stars, her mother had abandoned the family and found refuge by a stream in the mountains somewhere. She hurried to fill a bowl and grab a towel. Returning, the fat man’s prick stood straighter and taller than she remembered. His huge hands kept his tide of belly fat out of her way.

“I didn’t ask you to do this.” Terry resumed his dare. “I was just sitting here, minding my own business, thankful for a roof over my head.”

My fool of a daughter knelt and reached out with the wet towel. She closed her eyes.