The Trophy

Part 1

I never knew my real father. My mother was trailer trash. She had never married my father, she just made the mistake of getting pregnant by him. She might not have known which one it was. Even while I was growing up she would often bring home a different guy every night. Oh, there were some that stuck around for a month or so, but, until David, none of them lasted very long.

I was eleven when she brought David home. I didn’t think much of it at first. I figured that he’d last, at the most, a few weeks, and then he’d be replaced by the next one. David, though, had reasons other than just my mother to stick around.

Even at eleven I was pretty. Hair was just beginning to grow above my pussy and my tits were beginning to bud. I had just recently had my first period. We lived in a two bedroom trailer in a run down trailer park. One my mom’s many men had broken the bathroom door and my mom had never bothered to have it fixed. It wouldn’t even latch anymore. I usually scooted the bathroom scale over next to it to keep it shut anytime I was in there. I was taking a shower one day. David had only been around for a few days. I pulled back the shower curtain, and there he was at the door watching me. He was wearing nothing but his white jockey shorts. I could see the bulge of his hard cock beneath them, and the yellow stains where pee had leaked out from time to time. Even today I avert my eyes when I walk past white jockey shorts in a store.

I yelled at him to close the door, while pulling the shower curtain back in front of me to hide my body. He stood there for a minute, then left, closing the door. I complained to my mother, but she just said, “Hell, Sarah, we’ve only got one bathroom, and you spend all day in there. Sometimes someone else needs to use it. If you get walked in on, I guess it’s just tough.”

He began walking in on me in the bathroom more and more often. It seemed like I couldn’t even sit down to pee without the door opening and David standing there staring at me. I finally grabbed a chair out of the kitchen and propped it against the door handle to keep him out. I heard the door being pushed against the chair. He say anything, or push that hard at first, but when the door didn’t open he pushed harder. I had really jammed it under there, though, so it still didn’t give. I hollered, “Go away, leave me alone. Won’t you at least let me piss in peace.” He quit pushing, but I could hear his breathing on the other side of the door. He was still standing there when I came out. I pushed past him, went into my own room and went to bed.

That night I awoke from my sleep to feel something touching my breast. I looked up to see David sitting on the edge of my bed in his white jockey shorts. By the moonlight shinning through the window, I could see the yellow stains on them. I yelled, pushed his hand away, jumped up, and ran into my mother’s room. She was drunk as usual, so I had to shake and yell at her several times before she woke up. I said, “David, is in my room. He was touching my breast.” She replied, “Oh, shut up you uptight little bitch. A good fucking is probably what you need. Maybe it would cure that prissy attitude of yours.” She turned over and went back to sleep. I think that, at least subconsciously, she knew that I was the key to her keeping David. She was getting older, and it was getting more and more difficult for her to find a man to bring home. I sat there for a long time, not knowing what to do. I hated her then, but was too frightened to go to my room. David was there. In a few moments, though, David walked in to the room. He looked down at my mother, snoring on the bed. He’d heard everything that she’d said. When he walked over to where I was sitting, I scooted across the bed trying to get away from him, but he reached down and grabbed hold of my arms, pulling me to my feet. I was crying, “Go away! Leave me alone!”

It was to no avail. He pushed me backwards, holding on to the upper part of both arms toward my bedroom. He gripped my arms so tightly that I had bruises the next day. When we got to my bed, he threw me down on my back, and then reached down to rip off my nightgown. He flopped down on top of me and put his mouth on mine. I could smell and taste the liquor and cigarettes on his breath and in the saliva that leaked into my mouth. He reached down with one hand, while holding my arms pinned above me with the other, to pull down his piss stained jockey shorts. Then he grabbed hold of his cock, spread my legs apart with his knees, and rammed his cock into my virgin pussy. I was only eleven, barely pubescent. I hadn’t even masturbated at the time. I thought he was going to split me apart. I had never felt such pain in my life. I felt wetness on my thighs as my cherry popped and blood ran down my legs. It excited him all the more, He thrust and pounded, ramming his cock into my ravaged pussy. I thought that he would never stop, but then he shivered and moaned some as he pumped his cum into me. He rolled off me, turned his head to one side and fell asleep. I spent the night huddled in a corner, crying.

The next night he came in wearing nothing but the piss stained jockey shorts, probably the same pair that he had on the night before. This time, he didn’t fuck me. He grabbed me by the hair pushing my head down toward his cock. He didn’t even bother to pull down his shorts, but just pulled his cock through the opening in front. He said, “You going to suck it this time, and, if you bite it, I’ll beat the shit out of you.” I didn’t know what to do, or how to suck his cock, so he instructed me. First he said, “OK, now lick it, lick it all over starting with the head. I don’t think that he had even washed it since the night before because something was still crusted on it under the rim around the head. When I hesitated, he slapped me hard, “Get to work, bitch,” he said. He told me to take the head of his cock into my mouth, and he started thrusting. When he would ram it too far down my throat, I would choke, but he just kept ramming. even though I could barely breathe, and snot was running from my nose. Too soon, I felt the head of his cock expand and his wet, salty cum gushed into my mouth. I threw up all over him. He was angry. He slapped me several times, so hard that I wasn’t able to go to school, or out of the house until the bruises went away. I think that frightened him some, because he never hit me again where it would show.

Over the next three years, as soon as my mother had passed out, David would come into me. My mother wouldn’t listen to my pleas, keeping David was all she cared about. As long as he still fucked her, it didn’t matter that he was also fucking me. David used me for every sick perversion that he could think of. I regularly had to suck him off, and he liked to fuck my ass as much as my pussy. I was later asked why I didn’t tell anyone, or leave, but I was only eleven when it started. I had no one, other than my mother, nor anywhere to go. I was too ashamed to tell any of my teachers at school.

One day, when I was fourteen, David fell asleep on me when finished fucking me. I couldn’t wake him. He had been drinking heavily all day. I finally managed to roll him over, off of me, onto his back. He was snoring, passed out cold. I watched him for a while, lying there, his cock and balls hanging out above the band of his piss stained jockey shorts. He never bothered taking them all the way off when he fucked me, but just pulled them down far enough to get to his cock. I went to the bathroom, took a long, hot, shower, but no matter how long I stayed under the water, I could never feel clean. I didn’t think that I would ever feel clean again. When I came back to the room, David was still on his back snoring heavily. I packed a suitcase full of my clothes, went into my mom’s room and took money and the car keys from her purse. On the way back, I stopped off at the kitchen to take a butcher knife from the drawer. I walked back to my room to stare at David. I focused on his, now flaccid, cock. I reached over, took hold of it and severed it from his body, ready to plunge the knife into his heart if he woke up. He moaned in his sleep, but was passed out so hard that he never awoke. He had fucked me, or anyone else for the last time. I wrapped his pitiful, severed cock in some paper towels and stuck it in my purse. I walked out the door, leaving my mom and Dave forever, got in the car and drove to L.A.

End of part 1