Daddy's Little PsychopathbyLordOfHell©
*Author's Note: I like to experiment with different types of stories, so this one will be much different from the others on my site, which mostly deal with "true love" as well as incest. This is story is part incest, part psycho-thriller and part cheating spouse. If neither of these are your cup of tea, please leave now. Otherwise, sit back, relax and enjoy.
Addendum to editors: No sexual activity occurs with any character that is under eighteen. All characters who engage in erotic behavior are legal adults.
-Version edit: 1.1-
The day that my daughter was born was the happiest day of my life. My wife Eileen and I had been hoping for a child for years, and the day she announced that she was pregnant, I ran through our entire neighborhood screaming "I'm gonna be a Daddy!" at the top of my lungs. That little escapade embarrassed the hell out of Eileen, but I came home and immediately fucked her brains out, so she forgave me pretty quickly.
We settled rapidly into the groove of impending parenthood, becoming more excited as we watched her belly grow day-by-day. Of course, Eileen went through the typical mood swings and physical changes that came along with child-bearing, but I was patient, loving and understanding. My baby was giving me a baby . . . and there was nothing that could break my jubilance about that!
My daughter was born on July 9th, during the biggest heat wave of the year. Our apartment didn't have working air-conditioning, and I complained to the super about it constantly, worried about my wife and unborn daughter's health—even doubly so after she went into labor. For the next eleven hours, I was beside myself, worrying if suffering through the heat had induced my wife's labor and whether or not that would affect her health or the baby's. The hospital staff did their best to calm me down, and I knew they were doing all they could, but I'm a very excitable person—especially when it comes to my family.
Fortunately, after hours and hours of pure torture, my wife finally gave birth to a beautiful and healthy baby girl. We had already picked out a name for her: Rhonda, and we took turns holding her the entire night.
We were able to afford a bigger home, and things were going remarkably well at first. Rhonda was a relatively normal baby and infant, although our first sign that she was more than she appeared was when she began crawling in four months. Eileen and I were amazed, and even more so when Rhonda was outright able to RUN at six months. Not walk. Run. Eileen and I were excited that we had given birth to a real prodigy—a wonder child that would surpass all of our greatest hopes and dreams.
If only we knew.
Rhonda soaked up knowledge like a sponge. Eileen and I tried homeschooling until she was six, but she quickly outpaced our combined education. She was doing trigonometry by that age, and the most math I could remember was algebra. I was exceptionally good at English and Literature though, so I would continue to read with my daughter, and we used to talk afterwards and compare literary critiques. Rhonda's acumen was amazing, and she was able to pick up on greater subtext and abstruse themes than I could ever dream of doing. Eventually, rather than teaching her, she was beginning to teach ME, and I was captivated at learning what insight my little girl had to share.
However, things weren't all good. A few years after her birth, Eileen began to distance herself a bit from Rhonda, and she used to stand by and just watch our little girl play on her own or with other children, such as when her cousin Teddy came to play. Teddy was three years older than Rhonda and had a reputation for being something of a bully. I didn't like the kid, but he was my brother-in-law's brat, and Eileen was close to her big brother, so I really couldn't object. Besides, they were just kids: it's not like they could really get into trouble.
Like I said, though, Eileen began to distance herself from our daughter and secretly observed her whenever Rhonda didn't know she was around. At first, I thought it was some bizarre motherly instinct, but eventually, I began to suspect different. It seemed like Eileen sensed that there was something wrong with our daughter, and she wanted to keep her distance. Every once in a while, I tried talking her out of her behavior, and she would make an earnest effort to get closer to Rhonda, but it would always fail a few weeks, days, or even hours later.
Don't get me wrong—Eileen was a wonderful wife and mother in every other respect, but her detachment to Rhonda just didn't feel healthy. Rhonda seemed pretty happy, though, so I decided not to press the issue. I just doubled my efforts and decided to spoil my little girl rotten. I relished the time Rhonda and I spent together reading, watching movies, and discussing them afterwards. And I mean real, in-depth adult conversations. Sometimes, it felt a little weird that my young daughter seemed to be talking down to me, having to reword some things so that I could understand it, but I was immensely proud of her, so it didn't matter.
Things were pretty good for awhile. I bought Rhonda all the books she wanted, and she finished all of them immediately. She would always come to me immediately after, saying that they had left her with even more questions. I sat down and read them with her, and found myself suddenly unable to really keep up with my little girl's conversations anymore. But since she loved to talk to me, that didn't matter.
But Eileen was less than thrilled.
"I think this is getting worse, David," she told me as she paced back and forth, biting her nails. "This . . . this isn't normal for a child to be acting like. She's not supposed to be reading those types of books like what you bought her."
Again, I found myself trying to be the voice of reason. "Well, Rhonda ISN'T normal," I corrected her, "she's an unbelievably gifted child, and I think the longer we try and hold her back, the more confused and miserable we're going to make her."
"Then what do we do, David? I can't keep up with her anymore, and even you're starting to struggle. I think it's time we considered other options. Maybe we should start seriously discussing hiring a tutor for Rhonda . . ."
I gave in and we stretched our financial resources to look into getting Rhonda some mentorship. Eventually, we found a professor from a local college who was used to dealing with exceptionally gifted children. With his help, Rhonda gained her high school diploma at seven and completed a full college curriculum by the time she was nine. My pride in her only grew as I watched my little prodigy develop, and Rhonda beamed at me whenever she saw the love in my eyes. During this time, however, I got laid off from my job and our family began hitting horrible financial straits. The only thing that kept us going was all of the money we got from schools looking to develop our daughter's 'gifts', but I felt really guilty exploiting my only child for my own gain.
One day, when Rhonda was eleven, Teddy was sleeping over at our home again. Eileen and I left he and Rhonda to play together while we sat down and discussed our current economic crisis. Eventually, we heard a scream in the living room and came to check. When we got there, Teddy was laying in the living room, trembling and holding his stomach while Rhonda was calmly sitting a chair, playing with her Game Boy. There was a lot of blood on the carpet underneath Teddy, and his shorts were pulled around his ankles. Eileen ran to call 911 while I went to Rhonda and asked what happened.
"Teddy and I were playing," she told me very calmly.
"Playing!? Ronnie, what the hell kind of playing ends with a boy's stomach bleeding?"
"Teddy said he wanted to 'play doctor'. At first I didn't want to, but he kept pushing, so I just tried to do a little surgery. But all of a sudden, he started crying that it hurt, and he didn't want to play anymore. I don't think he meant the same thing I thought he did, Daddy."
I couldn't believe that Rhonda was reacting with such cold indifference. She had nearly cut her cousin's belly open, and didn't seem to give two shits about it. It was at that moment that I finally began to think that Eileen was right about Rhonda and that there really was something wrong with her. But I felt conflicted—just what had Teddy, that little punk, been trying to do? Upset, I left the room and sat with Eileen as we waited for the paramedics.
Eileen rode with them after they arrived and told her brother she'd meet him in the Emergency Room. In the meantime, I stayed home with Rhonda and wondered just what the hell I was going to do about this mess.
"What's wrong, Daddy? Did I do something I shouldn't have?" she asked me with a very worried tone.
How the hell was I supposed to answer that? Frankly, I felt that the little punk got just a bit of pathos for whatever he had tried to do with his cousin. Of course, she always could have just yelled for Eileen and I, but would we even have believed her? If she'd screamed, it would have been her word against Teddy's, and Eileen had a habit giving that little snot too much due because he was her brother's kid.
What bothered me most, however, was the twinkle in Rhonda's eye. She didn't even seem to care that she had just effectively MAIMED a young boy.
Rhonda could see my apprehension, and she stepped closer . . . tears beginning to well in her eyes. "Did I do something wrong, Daddy?"
"We'll talk later, Ronnie," I told her. "Daddy needs to think right now."
"Why don't we think together, Daddy?" she asked me. "All my fancy certificates say I'm good at it."
"No, not this time, Ronnie," I argued. "Just go to bed and sleep."
Her eyes narrowed, and she stared right at me and declared: "No."
I shot disbelief right back at her. "What did you say?"
"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's wrong," she told me. "It's not fair!"
"I decide what's 'fair', young lady," I hollered. This was the first time I'd ever gotten ANGRY at my daughter, and I was a bit too miffed and excited to be patient with her. "I told you to go to bed and you will do what I say!"
She smiled at me. "Make me."
That set me off. I rushed at her and picked her up into my arms, kicking and screaming. I carried her into her room and threw her onto her bed even as she hammered on my back, hollering bloody murder. When I turned to leave, she grabbed onto my shirt tail and refused to let go. When I pulled her off, she would just pounce right back and grab it again.
This was far too exhausting for me, and I was far too old to be struggling with an eleven-year-old. I unbuckled my belt and looped it. Then, grabbing her hand tight, I spanked her with my belt until she began whimpering. She was fully-clothed, so I knew it wasn't really hurting her, but I had never spanked her before in my life, and I could tell she was really upset about it. Eventually, she finally let go of me and sank back on the floor, gasping for breath and softly whining.
"Now stay in here and don't cause any more trouble!" I yelled. I slammed her door behind me and left.
Eileen didn't get home until late, and she returned with my brother-in-law Steven. The three of us sat in the living room—after I'd vigorously cleaned the blood from the carpet of course—and decided to talk things out.
"And that's what Rhonda says happened," I told them, finishing up my story.
"Really," Steven said, holding his chin in contemplation as his right leg lay folded over his left. "That's certainly different from what Teddy told me in the hospital. He said that Rhonda wouldn't leave him alone and that she stabbed him for no reason."
"Come on, Steve. Teddy would say that he wasn't doing anything wrong."
"Well, she's always been an 'odd' kid, from what my sister tells me," Steve retorted. "From what I hear, she's been doing all sorts of odd things, hasn't she? Like slicing the limbs off her dolls?"
I shot a glare at Eileen. I hadn't told ANYONE else about that little incident, not even my own family. But, of course, Eileen had run off and told her big brother just like she did with every other little hiccup in our marriage.
"Don't give me that look," she told me. "I tried talking to you about it, but you always dismissed me like I was the one that was crazy."
Steve nodded. "And now, my son's paid the price because you wouldn't listen."
"Wait just a damn second," I said, suddenly feeling very protective of my daughter. "YOUR boy started this!"
"David!" my wife yelled, but I wasn't listening. Neither was Steven, whom my words had clearly upset.
"Who are we supposed to believe!? My boy, who hasn't gotten in trouble a day in his life, or your little hellspawn in the making?!"
I jumped out of my seat. "'Hasn't gotten trouble' my ass! Your boy's ALWAYS been a bully! Everybody in town knows that!"
"Rumors," Steven dismissed, rising from his chair as well. "Teddy gets picked on just like every other kid in school. I taught him to fight back if anyone ever gave him issues."
"How many 'issues' is your boy gonna get in with kids smaller than he is?" I snapped. "You want to talk about 'not listening to warnings', how much is it gonna take for you to realize that you got a little Cobra-fucking-Kai living with you?!"
Eileen stepped between us and tried to push us apart, but it was almost impossible for her to move two men whose combined weight was almost three times her own. However, with her there, neither of us were inclined to take our argument to the next level, because I sure as hell didn't want to hit my wife, and Steve didn't want to hurt his sister.
"Please, both of you sit down, and let's talk like we're supposed to be the adults."
Steve and I took our seats again, but we were shooting daggers from across the room.
Eileen then turned and looked at me. "David, maybe it's time that we got Rhonda . . . you know . . . some help . . .?"
My anger immediately shifted toward her. "What?! Are you SERIOUSLY going to blame our daughter for this!? You're going to take HIS side!?"
She took a deep breath. "Please calm down. I've been telling you for years that there's something wrong with—"
"Fuck calming down!" I yelled. I was becoming so upset that my wife was taking her brother's side that I had totally forgotten about my 'episode' with Rhonda earlier. Now, instead of really thinking that there might have been some issues with my daughter, I was determined to protect her honor from the asshole brother-in-law who thought his own 'perfect' brat could do no wrong.
"If you're going to take his side, then what the fuck am I doing talking to you!?" I stormed out of the living room and headed toward Rhonda's room.
"David, where are you going?"
I turned to answer her. Through the corner of my eye, I subconsciously thought I saw my daughter's door close just as I turned the corner, but my mind quickly dismissed it. "Rhonda and I will stay someplace else tonight!" I yelled, pushing my daughter's room open. "You two can discuss how you want to blame her all you want while we're gone. But for now, she's going with me."
"You can't . . . you can't just take my daughter out of here!"
"The hell I can't!" I replied. I turned to Rhonda and said, "Come on baby, get your coat and your games and stuff. You and Daddy are going someplace alone tonight."
She didn't question me and immediately raced to get her things. I led her out of the house, with Eileen protesting the whole time.
I took Rhonda to an inn for the night. After I got there, I started to feel a little guilty about what I'd done, so I called Eileen and told her where we were. Afterwards, I settled in to try and get some sleep while Rhonda laid on the other bed, reading a new book that I hadn't seen before.
"Hey, princess," I said softly. "What're you reading now?"
"Jungian psychology and how it applies to social dynamics in the 21st Century," she replied.
I winced, sorry I asked. "Yeah, have fun with that, sweetie."
She put the book down for a moment and asked, "Am I really in trouble?"
"I don't think so, baby," I answered, although it was mostly a lie. "Teddy was wrong, and he sorta deserved what he got."
I regretted those words almost immediately. I shouldn't have said that. But, I was still pretty angry.
She smiled at me. "So you believe me, Daddy?"
"Of course I do, sweetheart," I said with a returning smirk. "You're my little angel and I won't let anybody hurt you."
She got up from her bed and walked to mine, crawling next to me and leaning her head on my arm. "I love you, Daddy," she said.
As I stroked her head, I told her, "I love you too, darling. With all my heart."
At some point, we must have fallen asleep watching television, because the next thing I remember was a knock at the door startling me. The knock was loud and forceful, and I wondered just who the hell it could possibly be.
"Hang on a minute!" I yelled as the loud knocking persisted. I figured it was probably Eileen, or most likely Steven, considering how heavy the knocking was.
However, when the door swung open, I found two uniformed cops staring me down.
"David Scott?" one of them asked.
"Your wife called us and complained that you'd kidnapped your daughter. We've come to take her home and place you in temporary custody."
All at once, my built-up rage returned.
"My daughter is legally under my custody," I protested. "And I didn't kidnap her. I took her out of the house because my wife, her brother and I were having an argument and I didn't want anyone to get hurt if emotions ran high."
The officers simply stared at me with the same expression. One of them took a step inside the room. "Just come with us, sir. We'll return the child to her mother for now, and we'll take you to the precinct tonight until things cool off and this all gets sorted out."
"This is ridiculous!" I protested, disobeying the cop's order to turn around. "I look out for my daughter's best interests and I come out looking like the bad guy!? I told you, she's under my custody! You can't just walk in here and take her from me!"
The cops ignored my protests and one of them went over to grab my daughter. She began to yell for me.
"Noooo! I want to stay with Daddy! Stop it! Daddyyyyy!"
My daughter's screams only agitated me further. "Dammit, let her go! Why won't you go and check to make sure I'm her legal guardian!? Just, take your hands off her and go straighten this out now."
I tried to push past one of the officers, but he grabbed my arm, trying to force it behind my back. Running on paternal instinct and high on adrenaline, I took a swing at him. My fist connected to his jaw, and my left reeled back for a second strike. The next thing I knew, my second shot missed and I was face-first on the floor, with my stomach on fire and the officer's knees in my back.
"Mr. Scott, you're under arrest for assaulting an officer," he said. "Please do not resist any further or you will risk bringing further charges against yourself. Do you understand?"
I only growled in response.
"DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"
"Yes, goddammit! Ow, you're hurting me! Ease up a little!"
As the officer's partner took my daughter away, screaming for her father to help her, I was led from our room in cuffs and stuffed into a squad car. Eventually, Eileen and Steven showed up to claim our daughter, but neither of them said a word to me. I just burned holes in them with my eyes from the back seat of the patrol car until the cops returned to cart me off to jail.
Eileen dropped the kidnapping charge, but I got sentenced to three years for the assault, although I only did nine months. Eileen and I worked through our differences, and she stuck by me faithfully while I did my time. In the meantime, she took Rhonda for psychiatric evaluation, although they were unable to find sufficient cause to declare our daughter as anything other than a troubled youth with a few sociological problems. They mostly blamed the problems on her relationship with Eileen—they said that Eileen's distrust and borderline dislike of her own daughter was, in turn, causing Rhonda to "act out" in socially awkward behavior. Eileen made an effort to correct the mistake and she told me that her relationship with Rhonda really improved over those months.