Was it real or just a dream?

She sat there on the edge of the bed in the semi-darkness. "Here we go again." The thought made her shiver as if her blood had just turned ice cold. How could he do this to her again when all she wanted to do was love him, unconditionally and wholeheartedly? Not like this: This was wrong. But still, time after time he had come to her in this way and she would see him walking towards her as she did again now. Would it never end? Why couldn't he see the perfect love that he was destroying, slowly and painfully? Such an innocent love...............

She wanted to cry out but no one would hear. She knew that he had always been careful to keep these moments secret. "Their little secret game." He would say.
"Please don't.." she whispered.
She was afraid of this man though she loved him so dearly and no one understood. No one ever would.

She looked up and saw his face in the gloom, smiling that smile. She adored his face but inside of her the fear was once again growing, swelling like a rising sea in a storm. Oh how she knew him well, his desires, his passions, but she did not know that she knew them. To her the moments would be a turmoil of questions and pain until he was once again satisfied, then she would cry and he would comfort her. She wanted to scream for him to stop before he got near to her but the words would strangle her as much as if he had his hands upon her throat and she remained silent.

He stood naked in front of her and she closed her eyes as if by doing so he would disappear. Thoughts of passion were aroused in her and they fought a battle against her youthful innocence. She shivered again, the physical pleasure of the man's touch on her soft skin against the pain in her heart; but these were pleasures and pains she was not yet ready to understand. He kissed her, she pulled away and in response he spoke softly, with so much tenderness that she began to feel that she was wrong, he was right. "No! That could never be." The thought screamed around her head as he lay beside her, touching her youthful, almost unformed breasts, and her most intimate parts. This time she would tell him, this time he would stop. But as he lay across her, his manhood pressing against her closed thighs, his breath becoming shallow with the pleasure of a lovers passion she could feel her own heart racing. Her physical self was enjoying the very thing her heart and mind hated and she knew she could not fight it easily. He pressed against her harder, his voice persuading her gently, disguising the fact that he was almost desperate to enter her body.

She screwed her eyes tight and tried to focus on the words. Taking a deep breath she spoke,
" Dad, please don't."

He didn't listen. He never would listen, and she never spoke those words again.