tagIncest/TabooA Knock at the Door

A Knock at the Door


Eight years of my life gone. Wasted away in a jail cell, the beatings, the occasional rapes, the hive of villainy focused on the horrible deeds I performed. I was dirt to them and they abused me every chance they got. PC, protective custody, only worked so well, there were opportunities afterwards, after the first year where I endured brutal beatings and feared for my life, when they still got to me.

My mistake? Hormones, love and trust.

It's been six months since I got out. No one greeted me at the gate. I rode the bus back into town and from there I caught my connection back to home. Home. Well it wasn't home anymore. I set myself up in a town about forty miles away from where I once lived. Found a crummy job. Lived in a shitty studio apartment and relegated myself to existing there. Once a week I reported to my PO, same shit, same story. I worked, and kept my mind off the future, or the past. It was a step up for me. I still worried about getting jumped. I was cagey. Everyone is once they get out. More so for me. I kept my head down and didn't draw attention to myself, worried that my crimes were tattooed on my forehead for all to see. I had served my time, but I still felt guilty, the walls had changed but my mindset hadn't.

I kept to myself. Working in the warehouse stocking shelves, my body ached as I was thin and not strong. The others tried to engage me, but I kept quiet and soon they gave up. I wasn't interested in making friends. Before them worked a broken man. The system had chewed me up and if any one of them would be so lucky as to meet my eyes, deep within them they would see that my fire had burned out long ago.

The knocking on my door confused me. I had no friends and my rent was paid up. Maybe the cops? Crap, what did I do now? I opened the door slowly, worried who might be on the other side. Maybe a gang, come to beat the crap out of me.

"Hi," she said.

My stomach rolled. She was older now. I said nothing. I couldn't speak. I didn't meet her eyes. She couldn't meet mine. For how long we stood there I don't know. Finally I spoke.

"What are you doing here? How did you find me?"

She looked past me into my room. "Can I come in?"

Before I knew it she was inside my studio apartment sitting on my ratty torn couch. There was room for me to sit. I stood and leaned against the wall.

"The internet," she said.


"There's a site listing people like you."

"Oh," I was ever the wit.

"You want something to drink?"

She nodded. I gave her a glass of water. She drank it down quickly and fidgeted with the empty glass. I took it from her, being careful not to touch her.

"You've grown," I said.

"It's been eight years."

She sat there. I stood. We waited again in the quiet. The sun had gone down and the room grew dark. In the shadows she spoke.

"I'm sorry." She said. There was a hitch in her voice.

"Don't be, it wasn't your fault. I'm the one who is sorry."

"No. I'm not sorry for that. I'm sorry for what happened afterwards. If it wasn't for me..."

"Like I said. It wasn't your fault. I was the adult. I should have been stronger. Don't be sorry. There was nothing you could have done."

"We don't get along now. I don't speak with her much."

"She did what she had to do. It was all my fault, no one else's."

She changed topics.

"Was it rough in jail?"

I was glad that it was dark in the apartment now. I knew my face had changed and the cold bitterness would be ugly to her.

"Pretty rough. They beat me many times. I was in the infirmary pretty much the entire first year."

She was quiet.

She turned on a table lamp and the room was filled with warmth.

"I've missed you," she finally said.

"I think I have as well, but when I think of what I did...I'm not sure that I should."

"I knew what I was doing" she replied.

"I didn't know what I was doing, though." I said.

"I should have," I added.

"I hate what I did more than anyone else could. I will continue to pay that price for the rest of my life."

He face fell and she shook her head. She stood up and came over to me. I had nowhere to go, no escape. She tentatively reached out and grabbed my hand. Her soft warm skin tingled at the touch. He eyes were dewy and ready to burst forth with tears.

"Daddy, don't hate yourself. Our feelings were real. No one else could understand."

She said it, and when she did my tears fell from my face. She held me. Her magical touch, her hair smelled even better than I remembered. I sobbed. The broken father. Switching roles with his daughter as it was her turn to take care of me. Maybe she would do a better job than I had.

We sat down on the couch together. She kept whispering into my ears: "I forgive you," over and over again. If only I could forgive myself.

"I think about you all the time," she told me after I had composed myself again.

"I've seen other men, well they are all boys compared to you. No one has compared to you, Daddy. I've missed you so much."

I was shaking my head. "No honey. That was just a fantasy for you. I'm no good. You'll find someone just right for you."

She looked at me. Her face unreadable. She leaned forward and kissed me lightly on the lips. Her soft lips, her cherry lipstick flavorful and pungent. Her eyes met mine. I was lost in them as always. She went in again for another kiss, but I was ready this time and I held her off. Confusion came over her face.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, but no. This can't and will not happen. I can't go through this again."

Flustered she rose and gathered her purse. She opened the door and strode out. She turned just before closing the door behind her.

"I'm a patient woman now. It took me years to seduce you the first time. During your time away, I've had more practice. I also have patience. I can wait. I have waited."

She met my eyes and within them smoldered a brilliant flame of emotion. Part of it was lust, part of it was love but I saw hatred in there as well.

"You're mine," she said coldly. "My little mistake cost us eight years, but it won't stop me from claiming you. Sooner or later you'll come around again. You can't escape me, Daddy. You know it and I know it."

The door closed and she was gone for now. She would be back. Lord help me. I haven't the strength to fight her. I never did.

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by Anonymous

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by boatbumm07/02/17


And all too real. He is doomed to repeat the mistakes of the past....

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