Remember what poor feels like, trailer trash?
NATALIE
“f**k, Natalie. Your cunt just gets better every time daddy f***s it,” my step dad praised me as his naked body towered over mine.
Pleasing a lover should bring you joy beyond the orgasmic pleasure. At least so I'm told. The s*x was great, but his whispered praises afterwards made my skin crawl.
I suppose that was the price of f*****g your mom's husband.
Stephen groaned straight into my ear as he thrust into me deeply one last time, before spilling his seed into the condom, the barrier cheapening the experience even more.
I stared up at the ceiling, heart in my throat as the walls closed in on me. Self hatred descended on me, heavier than the weight of him.
It felt like something that had been chasing me was finally catching up to me. I couldn't breathe.
My p***y clenched around him out of habit, not joy or, heaven forbid, love. I took him into my arms like some pathetic plea for my mind to stop assaulting me with accusations.
Wishes.
Hopes.
Dreams.
Still just nineteen after all, daring to wonder what the great, big world had to offer besides pain and bitterness.
His presence made me ache for more, just not from him. Not with him.
Stupid girl. You made your bed. Now lie in it.
Forget young love and naïve crushes on boys my age. No laughing at my phone, staring at my boyfriend's texts for hours. I wasn't holding hands and stealing secret kisses behind a cute boy's locker.
Instead, I opted for misery and growing up too fast by becoming Stephen's side chick.
I was a billionaire's mistress. f**k toy. Possession. It wasn't some forbidden love either. Just f*****g.
Father, what would you think of me if you could see me now? Would my whorish ways sicken you as they've come to sicken me?
I got on my high horse and hated her mother for destroying our family.
The irony?
In my bid to avenge my dad, who died in disgrace, drunk with a bottle in his hand, I wrecked what was left of said family. I could barely look my mom in the eye anymore.
"You ruined my life! You made my dad take his own life by being Stephen's w***e!" I rambled at her after getting drunk last night.
"The affair is my biggest shame. I will carry that with me always, but Natalie your dad died of cancer. It wasn't suicide. Who on earth told you that?" her appalled voice muttered to me just yesterday as she led me off to bed.
Too little too late.
The words wouldn't leave my mind.
Fuck.
What did I do?
I tried to blame it on her. She never talked about him after all. Never brought up the cancer that they hid from me. How the f**k was I supposed to know?
But blaming s**t on her wasn't sticking this time.
If you stood before me now, would you even recognise me anymore, father? Because I sure as s**t don't.
When did vengeance become worthy of my peace and joy?
Stephen collapsed on top of me, his body heavy and slick with sweat, as he pressed a possessive kiss to my neck. His breath on my skin, wreaking of my c*m, made me want to vomit.
“My perfect girl,” he murmured, still buried inside me.
I turned my head away from him and bit down on my trembling lip so hard that I tasted blood.
Let me out of my cage I screamed in my head, but all that came out was a broken sob.
When my real dad died, my mom confessed her affair with billionaire Stephen Theron to me.
Assuming my dad drank himself to death, I buried my father and my faith in love, humanity, anything decent, on a cold, rainy day.
She married him mere days after. I was only ten.
Far too young to understand.
Now I finally did though.
A broken heart hadn't made my dad leave me.
He didn't leave by choice after all.
If only I knew then what I do now. With this simple truth, the dam of pent up emotions inside me finally broke.
For eight years, I watched her live in luxury, laughing, shopping, pretending the past never existed.
With each day, my hatred towards her only grew. Then as soon as I turned eighteen, I took my revenge.
Would I have gone through with it had I known that you were just getting on with life as best you could, mom?
One careless, meaningless night in Stephen's bed to console myself turned into my biggest mistake.
Breaking me in turned Stephen into an obsessed freak. He kept coming back.
Drowning in grief and sorrow, I let him.
No guilt. No shame. Just sweet revenge wrapped up in cardinal pleasure.
Until tonight, when I realized how much my vengeance had cost me.
Finding out the truth meant I didn't hate my mom anymore. And f**k, how desperately relieved that let me, but now I hated me instead.
What was I supposed to do with the guilt, preventing me from embracing my mom again?
“This was our last f**k," I whispered as he finally pulled out and collapsed on his back, breathing hard. “I’m going to college soon. Recommit to your marriage. Let me go. This is over."
He sighed softly, tumbling out of bed and pulling on his boxers and pants in one go.
I hugged myself, feeling empty and like a cheap w***e. A pang of loneliness echoed throughout my chest.
I need you, mom. I bet you needed me too. Forgive me.
My step dad really had a knack for getting dressed fast. It always shocked me somehow. How many others was he f*****g behind my mom's back? He had me pitying her. Myself. Everyone involved.
God mom, I'm so sorry. I'll make it right. Tell you everything. I swear.
Then what? Get us both tossed out into the cold?
“Let you go? Baby, I can’t quit that tight cunt. You know that. You'll just have to have to have a frequent visitor when you leave for college. Daddy is a billionaire with a jet, baby girl,” he said, his hand cupping my face as his condescending ass puckered his lips, feigning sympathy, mocking me. “You know you can’t keep my p***y from me. Know your place, Natalie."
"I'm not your f*****g w***e. I used you, not the other way around. Do you hear me? And I'm f*****g bored now, daddy. I want to try other d***s for a while," I spat back at him, grinning at him smugly even though my heart hammered painfully as I put on a show for him.
"Dumb b***h," he hissed, grabbing my jaw and squeezing until I yelped. He forced me to look him in the eye and continued, "You're my w***e until I say otherwise. Try to end this again and I will divorce your mother and cut you both off so fast it will make your head spin. No dicking needed. Remember what poor feels like, trailer trash?"
