My father had always been an asshole. I decided that growing up watching the way he treated my mother. I was determined not to allow him to treat me the same way. I, of course, failed. He called me everything from stupid to a slut. I don't even remember a time when I looked up to my father for anything other than his height.
He spoiled every chance that I had at romance. He would hit me and call me a street whore every time he found out that I had a boyfriend. I tried to hide my relationships, but some how he found out and didn't hesitate to embarrass me in front of other people.
It seemed that I had been planning my eighteenth birthday my entire life. I had one goal in mind, and that was to leave my father's house forever. I had been sneaking the things I wanted to take with me out of the house little by little. I could tell by the way my mother looked at me that she knew I was planning something and often voiced it to my father who dished out more of his abuse at me.
I had also noticed the way my father looked at my body when he called me a tramp and a whore. The fucker was getting excited, and after witnessing the way he took my mother where ever he desired, I figured that I couldn't put it past him to try something with me.
The thought of being raped horrified me, but I had to consider it as a real possibility. I snuck out to the clinic and got birth control. The last thing I wanted was to be carrying around my father's demon seed. I also allowed strange men to have sex with me, so I could prepare myself for the possibility of my father's vile touch.
On my birthday, things started just like I had predicted. I had my book bag with a pair of sneakers, jeans, and a t-shirt. I had all of my other things stored in duffle bag at a friend's house. All I needed to do was to make it out of the house. I was discovered by my mother.
"Where in the hell do you think you're going," my mother said standing between me and the front door.
My father heard my mother and came stomping through the house in his wife-beater t-shirt and blue slacks.
"You're not going anywhere," my father said pushing me back into my bedroom and locking my mother out.
When he unzipped his pants I knew that he was intent on raping me. As much as I tried to prepare myself, I was really scared, but also very angry.
"You're going to rape me, aren't you?" I asked as if I didn't know.
"That's what sluts like you deserve," he said pushing me back on my bed.
"You're right, Jim," I replied calling him by his first name. "And since that's all I have ever been to you then here." I pulled off my panties with my shorts and through them at him, and then I pulled my top off over my head and hit him in the face with it. I quickly got my bra off. "Is this how you want me," I shouted at him spreading my legs wide.
My father never looked me in the eye the entire time. He kept looking between my legs and at my tits as he took off his clothes. He looked even more disgusting than I imagined he would. His short uncircumcised erection pointed straight out from his hairy body.
I kept trying to make eye contact with him as he stuck his cock inside of me. Each time our eyes met, he looked quickly away.
I humped and rolled against him as he thrust his little cock inside of me. "You like your daughter's pussy? You like fucking your own child? You like raping your own child?" I kept asking him over and over again as I fucked him harder than he was fucking me. I wanted him to remember that he was raping his own daughter.
I pushed him off me as soon as I felt him shooting his cum in me. I grabbed my bag and found my mother standing right outside the door.
"You see what kind of man he is?" I asked my mother. "This is his nasty cum coming out of me. He fucking raped his own daughter."
"He's not your father," my mother replied.
I almost fainted. "You bitch!" I shouted at her and slapped her as hard as I could before running out the door naked with my bag in my hand.
I ran behind the neighbor's house and dressed, while the old Johnson watched me from his back porch.
"You want me to call the police?" he asked.
"No, they are both going to hell anyway," I said to him.
He must have realized that I was running away, because he gave me all the money he had in his wallet and told me not to look back. I didn't look back. I ran as fast as I could away from there.
My friend Ronald let me shower at his apartment. I knew that he always had a crush on me, and since I was never coming back to that town, I decided to allow him to have sex with me. I knew it wasn't what he really wanted, but it was all I could give him.
Ronald was so sweet and gentle that he washed away the filth of my father's touch. We rolled around in his bed until it was time for him to take me to the bus station. I actually felt better, and determined to make a new start.
I took the bus heading east, because I'd heard all the stories about girls going to Hollywood to become stars and ended up as street whores. I had my sights set on Atlanta.
The further away I got from my hometown the better I felt. The other passengers on the bus looked like they were looking for something different to happen in their lives. The girl that I sat next to on the bus pulled at the loose string on her cut-offs. I could sense that our situation was somewhat similar due to the dirt on her face and hands. It made me wonder just how many girls ran away from home.
Everyone in my home town who knew of my plans to get as far away from my parents as I could, warned me to be careful. I heard one horror story after another. Some of the stories were told in an attempt to get me to forget the foolish idea of leaving home. The stories about pimps lurking around bus stops looking for run-a-ways stayed with me.
Candice, the girl I sat next to, seemed like the kind of girl who would fall victim to such cons. She looked scared like she wanted someone to come along and take care of her. I'd had enough of a man's rule over me. Some how I knew that no matter how hard I tried to warn her, she would end up falling for a pimp's game.
It was almost comical at every stop the bus made, I could see a man looking for an un-expecting young woman with big dreams. I had no dreams other than never to have to look in my parents faces again. I even pointed out the men who looked like pimps, and others who acted like pimps.
At a stop in Mississippi, I lost Candice. As the bus was pulling off, I saw her getting into a big car with tinted windows. I felt sorry for her, but I had to concentrate on taking care of myself. I went over in my mind the things I needed to do to get myself settled. I needed a place to stay and a job. I didn't have any working experience, but I was sure to find something.
The Atlanta bus station was busier than any I had come to before then. With all the people standing around, it was hard to figure out who might be a danger to me. It became very clear once I stepped out side how dangerous a city could be. There were at least a dozen or so very unfriendly cops directing people away from pick-up areas and from the street. Across from the bus station was a very busy strip club. It was the first one I had seen up close and I was across the street. There were signs all along the street directing club goers. I saw other men who looked like pimps talking to young women right in front of the cops.
I was lucky to get a cab and asked him where I could find a good motel. He looked me up and down and then warned me of the danger of being in the downtown area. He told me that I could find cheaper motels just outside the city and would be able to use the public transportation to get around where I wanted to go. I guess that the black man was an honest to god African. It was something in his tone that led me to trust what he said.
He drove me about twenty minutes north of Atlanta to a place called Marietta and showed me a lot of places along the highway. He took me to a motel that had an all night diner next to it. The cab driver was nice enough to stay while I got checked in, which I thought was very nice of him.
The motel room was the first place I ever had of my own. I filled the tub and took a very long bath. It felt so good not having to wonder if my father was going to burst through the door and rape me. I laughed at the thought of his little cock and how weak he became after he came inside of me.
I went next door to the busy diner and ordered myself a big meal. There were a lot of girls my age there from the college I was told that was a mile up the road. They looked like they had so much going for them. I finished my meal and no one even noticed that I had been there. At home, everyone knew my name.
Back in my room I turned on the television and found there were only two things that I could watch, the news about murder and corruption or adult movies. I chose the adult movies, because they were at least entertaining.
I got up the next morning eager to see the area where I had landed. I put on my mini-skirt, wedge sandals, and mid-riff tank that I had been called a slut and a whore for buying by my parents. I even wore a thong, because it was my choice to do so.
The sun was blazing hot and my hair fell before I could get across the street. The only breeze came from passing cars that lifted my skirt. It had been a while since I got a thrill out of someone blowing their car horn at me. But the sun was still way too hot for me.
