Chapter 1.

At the age of seventeen, we have an entire lifetime ahead of us. In some cases we try to leave behind the past lives, we've lived. Whether they be boring, wasted time, or just too awful to hold onto any longer. Some people live their lives in the same routinely scheduled days, satisfied with nothing ever changing. Amanda Monroe, was not that seventeen year old. She wanted freedom.

When she was younger she had a normal life, without trama or negativity. However, her mother had died when she was only thirteen. From that moment on, she lived with her step father as she had no other family. Her mother had been an orphan child, and she remained an orphan until she was old enough to leave the orphanage of her own free will. Conrad, Amanda's step father, was the only man she recalled being a part of her mothers life. Her own father was a mystery. For some reason her mother never mentioned him to her either. Perhaps she hadnt known who the father was herself.

For the last four years, Amanda had grown into a beautiful young woman. Her figure was petite, but not so much as to be considered gaunt. Standing at five feet, and six inches tall, she was the spitting image of her mother. Her curly pale blonde hair was long and thick, and usually worn in a ponytail or left cascading down her shoulders in waves. With eyes such a light shade of blue, they could almost be considered silver/grey, and delicate curvy features she is a vision of beauty on her worst days. She has a lip piercing referred to as spider bites, which is two holes close together on one side of her lip. In this case, hers were on the bottom left side of her mouth which added a punkish look to her otherwise angelic features. On her back, just below her neck, she had a tattoo of a wooden cross, tightly wrapped in vines with sharp thorns protruding from them. On each of her wrists she had words encircling them like bracelets. On her her left wrist were the words, "Every saint has their past..." and on her right wrist it said, "...Every sinner has their future."

When Amy (her nickname) lost her mother, everything changed, especially Conrad. He was more strict with her than ever before. Nothing she did was ever good enough, and she was more than a bit frightened by him. He was a heavy drinker and a pill popper, so she was used to his aggressive outbursts.

On this particular day, however, Conrad had woken up from a drug induced slumber. Realizing that is was only 5:30 in the morning, and that he had no where to be until 8 he simply layed there unmoving. He was a very active part of the community in their small town. He helped with some school functions, and was an honorary boy scout before he went into the military. He was a part of a few veterans groups throughout town and a few that were out of town as well. He had the respect of almost everyone in the area. However, his reputation was entirely false. He may have had the public fooled, but he was an exceptionally harsh and spiteful man. He was so pretentious and full of himself that he considered his household to be his Mount Olympus. To him he was the God of the household. Amy was simply a burden he was saddled with, and she wasnt even his. She was more like a servant or a slave in his eyes. Afterall she owes him everything for keeping her when he didnt have to and certainly didnt want to.

As he layed in bed thinking about Lilah, Amy's mother, the only woman he had ever married, he glared at his ceiling. Things were so perfect between them when they had first gotten married. Amy was only a baby then, but he thought of her as Lilah's pet to keep her company when he was away. Lilah however, was the perfect trophy wife. She had come with no annoying in-laws, and a body like a goddess. She was his first and only choice. Most women never gave him the time of day, due to his crude manners and self righteous attitude. Despite that, they had a perfect marriage for almost ten years. She cooked, cleaned, took care of Amy, and had a part-time job at a local beauty boutique. She catered to Conrad's every desire, even in the bedroom. Once she even sat and watched him be intimate with two other women, without being involved herself. Unfortunately, if a man so much as noticed her beauty in public, he was quick to punish her for it behind closed doors. He never fought with her infront of people, including Amy. He preferred to keep his violent side a secret for the sake of his reputation and he hid it remarkably well.

When he caught Lilah with another man, he blew up. Later that very evening, while Amy slept, he drugged her mother. He'd stuck her with a needle, and she overdosed on heroin. Later in the early hours of morning he called the police, and by the time they arrived Conrad was frantically panicking. He pleaded with the chief of police, a decorated marine veteran as well as old friend of his, not to let Amy find out about her mothers drug addiction. He lied, that he had been trying to help her for years, and that he woke up in the middle of the night and found her dead. The police falsely ruled the death as an accident. However word had gotten around anyway, and most people in town new her real cause of death. Still, no one bothered mentioning it, out of respect for Conrad. He had everyones trust and support after that. Everything had changed for Amy, that day she took her mothers place as his personal punching bag. He was always so angry. It started with yelling and wicked punishments that were unnecessary, but not quite considered abusive.

Over the years, Amy got comfortable being in her mothers shoes. To her, he was heartbroken over her mothers death, and now he was just so angry about it. The fact that she favored Lilah exactly must've been hard on him, and she assumed that was the cause of him taking everything out on her. She understood that and because of that, she simply accepted his behavior gracefully. In reality he wasnt at all brokenhearted, but he was angry every moment of every day.

When he finally got out of bed, he made coffee, and took a shower. As he was getting dressed he heard Amy slam the front door as she left for school. It was very intentional as she did that every morning so as to wake him up if he hadnt woken up on his own. He only saw it as disrespectful behavior. Scrambling about his room for a pair of socks, he huffed and puffed. Not a single matching pair was clean. "Hell why do I even keep you around?! Ungrateful bitch.." He hissed out loud, referring to Amy having disregarded his laundry. She was always hesitant to go into his room, afterall her mother had died there. So she made an effort to stay away, and in doing so she would miss the parts of his laundry that hadnt ended up in the bathroom hamper. He let out a long shakey breath, trying to release his anger calmly before putting on a pair of dirty socks from the day before. He couldnt be caught dead wearing unmatching socks.

When he left for a boy scouts event, he told himself he would have to think of a good way to make Amanda see the error of her ways. What he had asked of her was very simple and at this rate she was shaping up to be, "a pitiful excuse for a woman." He spent the rest of his day quietly brooding over his departed wife's shitty little **** up. As the day went by he fed his anger with pills and once he got home he locked himself away in his room. It wasnt until after Amy had returned home and finished her chores that he finally emerged.

Amy was in black spandex shorts and a black tank top with a grey sports bra slightly showing underneath it. With her hair in a ponytail, this was her usual attire for housework. She was standing in the kitchen, washing dishes as she called out to Conrad. "Food is ready!"

With a sigh, she put the last of the dishes in the strainer and proceeded to set the table. After a few minutes, he came out into the livingroom and over to the dining area where he sat down with a disgusted look on his face. "You're not trying to poison me now, are you?" He asked angrily.

"No, of course not." She sat down quietly, staring down at her feet, lost in thought. 'Doesnt sound like a bad idea though.' They ate their food in a suffocating silence for several minutes, as the tension began to build.

"How was your day?" she asked without looking up at him.

"Long and aggravating. You need to do laundry, I couldnt even fine a pair of clean socks this morning." He spat his words at her as he glared at her with flaring nostrils.

"I started a load before I made dinner." She clarified in a soft, small voice. Yet, in a matter of seconds, he was on his feet. The entire dining table was flipped over and her eyes widened as the food and drinks went flying. A gasp was all that escaped her lips as she sat in her chair confused.

"A lot of help that is now! If you would do your chores correctly I wouldnt have to wear dirty clothes! You're a good for nothing, spoiled rotten bitch!" He yells at her, walking away. "And clean this shit up!" He adds before slamming to door to his bedroom.

She sat in silence for a moment, frozen in place as tears slid down her cheeks. '**** my life...' She thought as she got up and put the table back in pace with considerable effort. Then she took the dishes to the sink and looked over the mess. 'Why is every move I make wrong...?' With a sigh, her shoulders drooped. There were noodles and spaghetti sauce strewn about everywhere from the table, to the floor. Some had even gotten on the couch and the wall and herself. 'A perfectly good dinner, wasted on that man.' Was all she could think.

After quickly washing the dishes, she went to the dining area and started picking up spaghetti from the floor and furniture. There were globs of it here, and some smeared sauce there. Once she had picked up what she could, she got down on her hands and knees and began trying to get the stains out of the carpet.

Conrad then came out of his room with a towel over his shoulder, and upon seeing him a lump formed in her throat. Conrad Striker, was a very large man in more ways that one. Not only was he freakishly tall standing at six feet and eight inches in height, but his build was strong and sturdy even for his age. He was in his mid forties, and if it werent for the slightest touch of grey in his stubble, no one would think him a day over thirty. He had a natural tan to his skin that Amy sometimes envied, but his dark brown hair and deep forest green eyes complemented his skin tone far better than hers would, in her opinion. He was what most people would call ruggedly handsome. Not to mention his chiseled physique. Aside from the scar on his left cheek that extended up from his jaw line over his eye and to his eyebrow, his appearance was flawless. Both of his arms were sleeved out, with tattoos he'd gotten while in the service of the military. Yet even with all his handsome features, he was more frightening to her than anything else

She swallowed the lump in her throat as he stood infront of her, looking down at her with a wicked smirk. "You've got food all over you." He said kneeling down and pulling a noodle from her hair. "You're filthy. You need a shower sweetheart." She bit down on her lip, staring at the stained carpet, unable to move or even speak. He stared at her intently. "Go ahead and take one." He ordered handing over the towel. She took it slowly, still hanging her head.

"Thankyou sir." She uttered as she stood up and walked past him headed for her bathroom, which is connected to her bedroom. As soon as she stepped into her room the bathroom door was to her left.

"I"ll be there in a moment." He added calmly before she closed herself in the bathroom. Her whole body tensed up as he spoke and a whimper escaped her lips as her body began to tremble uncontrollably. However, she simply started the shower anyway, more afraid of what would happen if she refused him than what was to come. Her heart and mind were racing as she slowly stripped herself of her clothes and stepped into the shower. Focusing on her breathing she told herself, 'I'm no longer a child...this is ridiculous..' She was shivering in disgust, as the warm water flowed over her trembling body.

She washed her hair and was rinsing the conditioner out, when she heard the bathroom door open and close. Her hand was on the wall of the shower, to steady her. Due to the overwhelming feeling that her legs would give out on her, she used it for support. Afraid to open her eyes, she took a long deep breath. He stepped into the shower behind her, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. She could feel his gaze cover every last inch of her body. With her stomach in knots, she slowly turned to face him and opened her eyes. Conrad was the first to speak, and seeing as he was actually standing ***** with her in the shower, Amy couldnt focus on speaking. All she wanted was to be anywhere else in that moment. Of course, she couldnt avoid looking at him forever...

"Hand me the soap?" He asked her this but his tone didnt come off in the form of a question. Still at a loss for words, she only nodded in defeat with her lips pressed firmly together. His member was hard to avert her gaze from, not that she didnt want to look away, but he stood there so proudly before her, with no shame or embarrassment in his eyes. While she on the other hand, had her arms wrapped firmly around herself and he legs squeezed firmly together. Never having seen this part of him before, she was practically in shock as she shakily grabbed a bottle of soap and her loofah. "I wont be needing that." He tells her and she nervously sets the loofah back down before holding the bottle out to him.

"Y-you dont have to do this..." She told him meekly as if it needed stating at all. He ignored her comment and put his large hand on her tiny little hip and moved her, trading places with her so he could be under the running water.

"Turn around and put your hands on the wall." He ordered her as he poured some soap into his hand. As she turned away with a gulp and did as he said, he rubbed his hands together. She felt cold, almost frozen as she waited. When his big, warm hands made contact with her skin she shivered and let out an involuntary sigh. He massaged her shoulders, lightly working his soapy, unnaturally hot hands up both of her arms, then down her back and her sides. The sensation alone was actually rather pleasant. However, she was quivering lightly, which went unnoticed. Her only guess was that he felt like humiliating her, but then he knelt down behind her after acquiring more body wash. He started at her ankles and began working his hands up her legs, not missing an inch of her. When he got to her upper thighs he ordered her to, "Spread them." To which she slowly obliged. His hands were on her butt next, massaging tenderly. This felt like more than just pure humiliation, but she couldnt bring herself to see that he was only touching her, to prove that he could.

"I-I think I can do the rest." She said her breathing ragged and heavy in anticipation. Finding herself unable to move at all, she only stared forward with tears in her eyes at the wall before her. She felt every bit of humiliation he was intending. Hearing the sharp exhale of air from Conrad's nostrils, she clenched her fists. "I'm not...a child anymore.." What she had wanted was to raise her voice at him, but almost every word came out broken and strained.

"No...You are not a child." He agreed and his hand slipped down between her legs. She gasped when he began circling her asshole gently before slowly easing his thumb inside it. Her thighs reflexively closed shut, trembling more. She reached back and tried to push him away. Her efforts were fruitless. The heat radiating off his body took her breath away. He was standing now, with his erection pressed hard against her backside, and she could feel every inch of it.

"Oops, my bad. Must've slipped." He whispered mockingly in her ear, before pulling his thumb out of her and slowly taking a step back. "Go ahead and turn around for me."

She thought she might collapse then and there, but to her own surprise she did exactly as he said, like a robot following orders without a second thought. Fighting to blink away her tears, she stared through the foggy glass, sliding shower door. "I-I am sorry...for neglecting my housework. It wont happen again." Her voice was pleading with him to give up this game he was playing, for she was clearly not having as much fun as he was.

He ignored this too and continued bathing her, giving more than his fair share of attention to her breasts. The entire time she looked away in shame and fear. There was no part of her that wanted to see the look of satisfaction in his eyes as he embarrassed her so. Shockingly, he did let her wash her most private part. Not that he wasnt watching intently as he tried to make it look like he were only cleaning himself as she did so.

After the shower, Amy found herself laying in bed holding herslef and crying. She felt a strong hate for Conrad since her mother had passed away. But more so now than ever before. Unfortunately she never knew her actual father, and so she was stuck with him. All she could feel were his big, rough, eager hands all over her, washing her. 'I swear one day hes going to rape me. He's never gone that far. But he has gone too far...' She was sobbing now at the memory of a shower they'd shared a few years ago, when he had first touched her inappropriately. Although then it hadnt gone so... far. At fifteen, she knew it was wrong, but he knew how to keep her quiet. He knew to keep her busy at home. She always did what he said, when he said it, and without question. His rough military background, along with his size, frightened her and left her feeling trapped like a firefly in a jar without air holes.

She had no one to confide in, now that her mother wasnt around. Her supply of friends was...inadequate to say the least. Having been shy way long before Conrad began harassing her, she never learned how to make friends. Nowadays, she didnt have the confidence to try and make them.

After half an hour of crying, she had dressed in a big t-shirt and loose sleeping shorts. It was only 9 o'clock, and on a Friday night. She had school on Monday morning. Conrad always thought education was very important. He expected perfect grades, advanced classes, and perfect attendance. She managed to pass most of her classes, but she didnt expect a scholarship for college. Honestly, college seemed too much for her to handle, as she preferred to stay away from people as much as she could. It was hard for her to trust people, since she had known Conrad almost her whole life and he seemed to change so abruptly. Before her moms death he was a good step father and provider. Back then she thought very highly of him.

Exhaustion was setting in, and her eyes were puffy and red. Her cheeks had been rubbed raw from constantly wiping away her tears. The filthy feeling of him left her skin crawling. Even though she has been thoroughly washed, that feeling remained. After she had calmed down, due to heavy medication, her glazed eyes where all but fighting to stay open. She turned on her CD player and put the volume on low. Music had always calmed and relaxed her. When she sang along to the music and actually tried to hit the right notes, it kept her from crying. Mostly, it was because she had to focus on the words and not her own thoughts. That night it kept her from shaking herself into peices. Yet, she was too tired to sing, and soon fell asleep. She spend her weekend inebriated and locked away in her room. She had only come out to do her chores and eat when Conrad wasnt around.

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