Nobody was handling the divorce well (if there was such a thing as handling a divorce well). My Mom's reaction was to become a hoe and fuck everything that moved, especially if it was a someone my father knew because that increased the likelihood word would get back to him. After all, everyone knew the whole point of life changed after divorce, to solely focus on ruining your ex's life.
My Dad became far more... misogynistic, I guess would be the polite way to put it. He always had a bit of it in him, but now it was like his anger with women seemed to be bursting at his seams, trying to escape. In the month since the divorce was finalized, I don't think he's dated anyone (though, I only saw him every other weekend). It started with comments in passing about politics and the news, but my last visit I couldn't believe the comments he made on how I dressed. He even called my top slutty (can you believe that?). First time in my 18 years of life I've been called a slut and it was by my own father.
Of course, my reaction to the divorce was to become a rebellious little slut. My goal was to stay as far away from Mom and Dad as possible until I left for college next month. I was always Mom's princess whom she lived vicariously through since we looked so alike (Except I was thinner and had a firmer ass), so she used me as a weapon against dad, limiting the number of hours I could spend with him if I wanted her to pay for college with his / now her money. And my Dad wanted me to be a spy on my mom, so I avoided it all.
I dressed in black clothes, I wore black makeup, and I was even considered dying my blonde hair black just to piss them both off. The black I wore, the more it pissed off my Mom. The more skimpy my outfit, the more it made my Dad lose his mind. Apparently, tonight's office was the straw that broke my Dad's last nerve.
It was Daddy's weekend with his little girl, except he must have forgotten I was 18 and not some child because he expected me to stay home in his tiny apartment and watch a movie with him. Yeah, right! I already texted Tina and Ellie to meet me at the coffee shop down the road. One of them always had a line on a party on a Friday night.
"What movie did you want to watch?" My Dad asked when I opened my bedroom door. I locked myself in there as soon as he brought me back here and spent an hour doing my hair, putting on mascara and eyeliner (I'll wait until I leave for the black lipstick). I wore a black tank top that was cut short, revealing my new belly piercing, plus a white short skirt that covered just enough.
"You can watch whatever you like, I'm going out with my friends," I said, stopping by the kitchen to see if there was any alcohol I could swipe.
"Not like that, you are," my Dad said from the couch. His voice grew to a familiar scolding tone.
Whatever, I was expecting this.
"It's fine, Dad," I said and settled on just a bottle of water since he was staring at me--
actually he's staring at my bare ass while I'm bent over in the fridge--weird.
"What did you say to me?" My father stood, his 6'3 frame filling the living room as he stalked over to me.
"Relax. It's not that big of a deal. Everyone else is dressed like this and--" I argued, but his heavy footsteps pounded toward me.
"I don't give a shit what other sluts do, my daughter is not going to dress like a fucking whore on the street corner!" he yelled, wagging his finger in my face. I hated it when he did that; I wanted to break it off. Too bad he towered over me, and his biceps were half the size of my waist.
"I'll be a whore if I want be a whore!" I shot back, feeling my temper get the better of me. "I'm 18 now, dad, I can do whatever I want with my body," I said and rubbed my hands over my breasts.
"Not while you're living under my roof!"
"I'm not, I'm living with my Mom," I replied with all the attitude I could muster, knowing I just struck the winning blow. I walked around my Dad with a little dance in my step as I moved for the door. "Don't wait up for me,
Dad."
I had my hand on the doorknob when I felt hands grip my arms.
"Hey--no--Dad!" I shouted and was suddenly lifted off of my feet, yanked backward, and tossed onto the couch. "What the fuck? Dad!"
The darkness in his eyes grew darker as a snarl formed on his face.
"What did you just say to me? What the fuck did you just say to me?" he boomed as he stomped over me.
My adrenaline spiked as fear flooded my veins. Suddenly, I realized I was alone in this apartment with this man who could end me with his bare hands.
"Daddy, wait--wait! I'm sorry!" I cried. He grabbed me by my hair and threw me to the other side of the couch where I was bent over the arm. "Ahh! Dad!"
"I'm going to teach you to respect me again, one way or another," he growled.
SMACK!
"Ahhh! Daddy!" I yelped when I felt a sharp pain in my ass.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
"This is what happens to filthy fucking sluts in my house," Daddy yelled as he spanked my bare ass.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
"AHhhhh shit--fuck! Daddy no, I'm sorry!" I whimpered. He smacked under my skirt leaving my ass to feel in a permanent state of sting. Like lightning was constantly zapping me.
