[fullofsecrets]

She followed him out of the bedroom in a quiet and orderly fashion. She hastened to the kitchen and began to do the dishes. There weren't very many left in the sink, but she assured herself that she was going to try as hard as she could to stall to the very last second. After several moments of anticipating on what would happen for her to service him another day, Heather decided to gather up all of her thoughts and absorb her surroundings.

The kitchen was a mess, even after it had been cleaned by her hands many and multiple times. The walls had once been white, but after years of negligence had turned to a grimy tan. Cabinets and cupboards had obviously once been polished so that you could see their mahogany color although now they were splotchy and pieces of the wooded wallpaper had been torn off. A long ago elegant paneled floor was now missing nails, had pieces rising up awaiting so cut your toes, and patterned lines had been worn away. One thing stood out in particular to Heather, one thing that she had remembered from long ago; the pictures of women, lots of women, hanging from the far wall next to the dining table. Each one looked different. Some had charm and such beauty that you could see through to their personality, while others had no outstanding qualities at all and looked lifeless through the frame. They were normal types of pictures, most just a standard profile, but in their eyes you could tell that they had all been part of his sick game.

"What's taking you so God damn long!?" he shouted from behind her. She jumped from being startled and a dish within her hand dropped to the floor and shattered.

She shivered and quickly began to pick up the pieces off the floor. "I.. I'm almost done, Sir." She gulped with hesitation and threw the pieces of the dish into the trash.

Before she had the chance to stand back up his left hand clamped around the back of her neck and yanked her backward. She could hear his zipper being pulled down behind her head and could hear him wrestling with his underwear. "Turn around, slut. You will service me, now."

With one quick motion Heather was whirled around and her mouth was thrust onto his penis. She unfortunately took in every inch and aspect about it. The putrid and vulgar smell was enough to make her gag automatically, but with his hands webbed through her hair and shoving her down there was no time to throw up. Spit surrounded the circumference and each inch of length. He laughed and moaned, watching her tears leak out of her eyes. After only a few moments his load entered her mouth. He covered it with his hand after existing and plugged her nose with the other. "Swallow!" he demanded, and with fear of disobedience she did.

After redressing he sat down at the dining table and eyed her for a long while. Most of his glance was directed to her stomach. "How long?"

Heather was still coughing and knees on the floor. She wiped the tears away from her eyes and looked at him with anger. "How long for what!?"

"How long have you been pregnant?"

"I don't know! You've never taken me to a doctor!" she shouted.

"Guess!"

"I don't know.... 5 to 6 months maybe... but I can't be sure."

"It'll be small, just like you were.."

"I'm surprised you can even remember such intimate details," Heather sneered, and with this he got upset.

With a pound of his fist on the table and a spring up out of his seat he yelled. "Like it or not I'm your fucking father. Your underage and whether you enjoy it or not this is the lifestyle you were raised into. You will follow my orders and if you dare to question or back talk me again you will forever regret the fucking consequences!"