CW: rape, pedophilia
She kept the dirty secret for 18 years. Past when she stopped wearing a nappy. Past when she knew it was wrong. Past when she started her period. Past the legal age. Past having her first boyfriend. Past the first time she had consensual sex.
And in all this time he continued.
He’d come to her at the dead of night when the trains had stopped and the house was silent. He’d stay up watching tv. That silent too. Then he’d go out to the balcony for a smoke. And then he’d come into her room.
The sound of the door handle pushing down always woke her up. But she never stirred. Did not flutter her eyelids. Did not flinch her fingers. Did not crease her forehead. She lay down curled up in her duvet. She was made of China, she was not real.
He’d move the duvet back and put his hands down her top. Gently caress her breasts, round and round the nipple. And still she would not stir. She could smell the choke of the smoke on his arm and still she would not stir.
Still standing he would move the duvet back more and slip his fingers into her pants. And there he would rub her clit. Back and forth. And despite what she ordered her body, the lips would get wet. But still she would not stir.
And then he would bend down and lick her. His tongue would go inside, up and down. She would feel electric pulsing through her. She will loose control of her mind and want to grab his head and hold him there so he never stops. She will want to thrust her pelvis up so his tongue can rub deeper. But still she would not stir.
Often he would rub his cock himself. Other times he would move her hand on it and thrust. And sometimes, just sometimes, he would climb on top of her and push it inside of her. Still she would not stir. He would always come outside and dry his mess on a cloth. His longi, his vest? She heard the movement of cloth but never peaked. She never stirred.
And once he had come he would leave. Often her vagina was still buzzing. Pressure building inside that would never be released. He would shut the door behind him. And then, and only then, would she move. Curl into a tighter ball and cry. The house still silent.
And then her father would go back and lie next to her mother. And she kept that dirty little secret for 18 years.
being woke 