Girls Night - Yolanda Olson Page 0,10

racing so fast I could almost believe I’m having a heart attack.

“You’re not going anywhere, Farren. You knew what you were expected to do, and you disobeyed me, so I’m going to make sure you complete your homework and understand everything I’ve taught you.” His voice is harsh, and the menace in his tone makes my entire body fluctuate from hot to cold.

Tears slip free when he tightens his grip on my wrist while his other hand roughly tugs down my leggings.

“No, Dad. Please, I’ll do what you ask.”

“Do it then,” he barks.

A sob catches in my throat as I look at the screen through tear-filled eyes and graze my clit with my fingers. I can’t do this. I roll away, covering my face with both hands. I’m not given the chance to experience my grief and horror at what he’s making me do. He immediately rips my hands from my face and crushes my fingers in his grip, stopping me from clenching them. My humiliation is drawn out further when he fists my hair, and yanking my head up to look at the laptop, he forces my hand down to my pussy.

“Dad, stop, please!” I howl as my fingers are roughly pushed into my body and then dragged back up to my clit.

I want to die. The thoughts I’ve had of ending it all return, blasting me with an agony that’s soul-deep, but I know I could never do that to Tucker, no matter how much like strangers we’ve become. My father’s breath is hot in my ear, and I want to gag at how he’s forcing this upon me. These may be my hands, but he’s raping my body with them.

“Dad!” I scream, “Please! I’ll do it myself! Please stop!”

My cheeks and pillow are soaked with tears, and he all but throws my own hand at me. I’m clumsy in my movements, my distress and the ache in my fingers making it hard to maneuver them. Eventually, I find a rhythm that will bring me release, no matter how much my heart and soul protest.

I stare at the screen, but I no longer see it as it is. Instead, I let go of reality and watch the face and body of the man melt away and morph into me. I cling onto the fantasy, and stare fixated on the woman in front of me as I pound into her body with a flesh colored strap on. Her breasts jiggle at the force of my movements, her erotic cries barely covering the sound of her arousal coating the silicone cock with each thrust of my hips.

The tears continue, but the false image I’ve conjured allows me to blank out what’s happening and why. For a split-second, I forget where I am as my own cries mix with hers and the unwanted orgasm crashes over me in a violent wave. As I lie there shuddering, the haze of pleasure fades and is swiftly doused when a heavy grunt fills my ears, bringing me firmly back into reality and making my blood freeze in horror.

“Well done, Farren. I’m proud of you.”

I can barely hear my father’s breathy words or the sound of his zipper being tugged up over the ringing in my ears. I’m in a daze when he bends down and gently kisses my forehead before leaving the room.

What the fuck just happened?

Before I can regain my senses, the shock and exhaustion overtake me, dragging me into blackness.

Chapter Eight

Tucker

The sound of Farren crying and screaming, begging our father to stop, shatters my heart like a glass ball falling from a great height with all the pieces scattering in a million different directions. I want to put an end to it all, but he’s too strong, so much stronger than I am. I never wanted to be a part of this, but the last time I tried to intervene he made sure I never would again. Having threatened to kill my little sister if I didn’t help fix her disgusting ways, he beat me until I lost consciousness.

When I came round the next day, I could hardly breathe due to what I suspect were cracked ribs, and my eyes were little more than slits from the bruising surrounding them. From what I could make out in the bathroom mirror, I resembled a human punching bag; a myriad of deep purple bruises covered almost every inch of my skin.

Farren suffers from the distance I’ve put between us, and I’m certain she thinks

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