I stared at my reflection in the mirror. How the hell am I going to cover up that huge bruise? I grumbled to myself. Luckily I could cover most of it with my hair. I frowned; my hair is getting kind of long. No wonder he calls me a . . . "Faggot, get in here!" As if on cue his harsh voice cut through my thoughts. I was tempted to yell back at him that I was getting ready for a hot date, but resisted the urge. I didn't feel like bleeding tonight.

"Coming!" I called. I took one last disgusted look in the mirror and left the bathroom. As I entered the living room the acrid smell of smoke and burned food assaulted my nostrils. What the fuck? The man knew he couldn't cook, why did he even try? I wrinkled my nose.

"Make me some dinner." He grunted from his slouched position in his chair. A whiskey bottle jutted out of one hand. This is the image my father presents to the world. He lives off of his disability pay from work after he went there drunk and injured himself by falling off a ladder. All he does is sit in the same fucking chair all day smoking, drinking and watching TV. The only time he ever gets up is to take a piss. Night on the other hand is an entirely different story. At night he got his second wind, and I got busted up. I was used to it by now. It had been happening ever since my mom and little sister died seven years ago. To him everything shitty that happened in this world was my fault.

"Are you sure it's safe to go in there?" I asked sarcastically. "It's not toxic or anything is it?"

"Shut your smart mouth and bring me something to eat." He growled irritably taking a long swig from the bottle. I sighed and walked into the kitchen to clean up his mess. After that was finished I was able to scrounge up enough ingredients to make some spaghetti. I dished up a plate and brought it out to him, setting it on his TV tray.

"Happy now?" I ask as he begins to wolf it down. He tosses the empty whiskey bottle in my direction.

"Get me another one." He growled through his mouth full of food. Disgusting man, I thought as I picked up the bottle. I didn't say it out loud though, there was only so many snide remarks that I could get away with before he got truly pissed off and I've almost hit the quota. My sore jaw can attest to that. I just sigh audibly and go to get him another one. I open the cupboard and froze. It was empty. I had forgotten to get more that day. Shit fuckers. I swore under my breath. I am so gonna get it tonight. In a stroke of idiotic brilliance I decide to mix a couple sodas and hope he's too drunk to notice. He's not. He spits it out and stares at the glass. "What the fuck is this?" He snaps. I swallow and take a step towards the hallway and the safety of my room.

"I . . . I f-forgot to . . . um . . . get m-more whiskey." I stammer backing away. He sets the glass down and rises from his chair smiling.

"I guess I'll just have to punish you Dominick." He leers. I turn and sprint for my bedroom, but as I get through the door a hand grabs me by the hair and drags me back. "Not so fast Nicky." He whispers in my ear. His foul breath is suffocating as it covers my face. He slams me into a wall, knocking the wind out of me slightly.

"I'll go get some now." I say, cursing silently at how pathetic it sounds.

"Nah, I was getting bored anyway." He grins maliciously and leans in closer. "Besides, you taste better than alcohol." He licks up the length of my neck making me groan in disgust. He knows just how to turn a guy off. I put my hands against his chest to push him away. He bit down on my ear.

"Fuck." I yelp. He chuckles softly then lifts me up and carries me to my bed. "No" I yell as he slams me on my back and begins to rip off my clothes. "No, get off!" I pound his chest and shoulders with my fists. He just laughs at me and straps my wrists to the headboard with my own belt. He pulls off my boxers and wraps his hand around my dick rubbing softly. My body reacted physically and a soft moan escaped my lips before I could stop it. He grinned and began squeezing and pulling, his grip becoming to tight to cause anything but pain. I cried out trying to twist out of his grip. He used his other hand to remove his clothes. "No, no, no," I moaned tears spilling down my cheeks. I hated this. He thrust his dick into me in one swift motion making me scream. He punched me.

"Shut up." He hissed. I lapsed into rough sobs. He laughed and began to thrust in and out in and out. The pain created a fog in my head. His hand wrapped around my throbbing staff and he pulled on it in sync with his thrusts. I screamed as he came inside of me and kept screaming. He was panting heavily, but wouldn't stop his thrusting. He wrapped his hands around my neck cutting off my screams as he squeezed. "I…thought I…told you…to…shut…up." He said panting. I struggled against him trying to get free. I couldn't breathe. He groaned as I arched and twisted. I screamed breathlessly as he hit my sweet spot. He came for a second time and I felt his seed rush into me. I still couldn't breathe, and I was quickly finding it hard to stay conscious. If I lost that, things would be worse in the morning. He hated it when I didn't stay awake for the whole thing. My lungs were burning and my vision clouding. He released my neck so he could use his hands to get his swollen cock out of my ass. I gasped in the air coughing.

"Fucker." I rasped. He grinned at me then hit me hard in the groin. I yelped, my eyes watering with the pain. He laid down over the top of me letting down all of his weight on my small frame.

"That's the idea Nicky." He said stroking my sweaty hair. "Just think of it as replacing your mother. I'm sure she would have wanted you to make me happy in any way you could." He wiped away my tears, but more fell from my eyes. I shook my head.

"You're lying." I croaked. "She wouldn't have wanted this." His face darkened.

"I try to be gentle." He frowned. "And this is how you repay me. I'm your father and you have to respect me and do as I say. It's the way the world works." He sat up sliding his hands down the length of my body. I shuddered. He got off and got dressed. "I need a cigarette." He muttered and walked out leaving me lying naked on my bed still strapped down and bawling like a baby. I hated to cry. I hated him to see me cry. He gets off on it. I usually could wait until he was done and out of the room, but tonight had hurt so bad. Almost the worst it's ever been. Almost, trust me when I say no one wants to know how much worse it's been. I don't even want to remember. 20 minutes later he came back in and sat on the edge of the bed. I had finally stopped crying and was curled up as best as I could with my arms tied above my head. He ran a hand down my side letting it rest on my hip. "I do love you Dominick."

"You have a funny way of showing it." I snapped angry with him and myself. His fingers dug into my hip making me wince. He shoved me onto my back. Leaning forward he pressed his lips to mine pushing his tongue into my mouth. I shook my head trying to get away from him. He bit down on my lip hard enough to draw blood then pulled away licking the blood off his lips.

"You're my whore Dominick, and there's nothing you or anyone else can do about it, especially after that pitiful suicide attempt." He laughed softly as the color drained from my face. Blood ran down my chin and neck. He licked it up and I knew he was right. Everyone thought I was crazy. No one would believe me if I told them. Fresh tears leaked from my eyes as he reached up and untied the belt. He smiled sadistically and stood up. "Goodnight Nicky." He sneered. "Sleep tight." He walked out closing and locking the door behind him.

"No." I croaked falling out of the bed and crawling to the door. I needed a shower. I wanted to get him off of me. I didn't want to smell him on my skin, or feel him inside of me. I hit the door. He laughed softly on the opposite side. Fucking bastard, I hate him. I walked over to my dresser and pulled out some pajamas and put them on. I took all the blankets and sheets off my bed and put on some new ones I kept hidden for just these kinds of occasions. As I crawl under the covers I wonder absently if I could hide a shower in my closet.