My stepdad and I had never gotten along. He married into the family when I was 12, right at the peak of my rebelliousness. Obviously, I still preferred my dad way, way over him. So I didn't really appreciate him thinking he could just...... walk in and replace him. The 7 to 10 years following that (depending on my age) had pretty much brought our hatred to the point of no return. Then my mom stepped in.
Clearly sick of the drama and the fighting (even if it was just me yelling at him for the most part), my mom was growing more and more irritable and her patience was waning. Then one night, she snapped. Going off on me in my room (I'd be 19 to 21 years old), she gives me the ultimatum. Accept him, or move out. It shut me right up. I didn't say a word for the rest of the night. The next morning, she came to wake me up, and in her typical "shut up, I'm talking" tone that she took with me every time we got into an argument, she laid out the details of a 'deal' that my stepdad proposed to her after last night's fight:
One weekend (or week) at his secluded cabin out on the lake. Just me and him... and miles of nature in every direction. To 'bond' and put things behind us. Jetskis, canoes, and even a boat with fishing stuff.
My mom took to that idea, hook line and sinker. How did I feel about it? I had no desire whatsoever to go out there, even with those perks. I couldn't afford to live on my own however and so I begrudgingly accepted the deal. The following Friday, we packed our things and left on the quietest car ride I've ever taken.
Once my stepdad and I pulled down a dirt road, as parked in a clearing near the lake about 15 minutes into the woods. He instructed me to grab my stuff, because we had to take the boat to the cabin on the island in the middle. He's been with the family long enough to know that I can't swim, so when I expressed my disdain for the idea of going out on the water, he assured me - in a very comforting tone actually - that everything would be fine. I took the bait, and boarded the boat. After a 5 to 10 minute boat ride to the island, we were there, my stepdads cabin.
We got settled into the cabin, and ever since we boarded the boat, we had our first legitimate conversation since I've known him. In a way, I was sort of forced to depend on him and so, for the time being anyway, he was kind of a figure of authority to me. He took a shower, quickly followed by me taking my own. That's where things begin to take a turn for the worst.
I stepped out of the shower, took a handful of minutes to dry off and brush my teeth, and quickly discovered that I clearly forgot to bring my change of clothes in with me. Since the changing room was right outside of the bathroom, I didn't think anything of it. And so I peeked into the room, and found...... a t-shirt laying across the edge of the bed, along with my bra and boyshorts. Confused, mostly because the shirt looked an awful lot like the one he would wear all the time, I tried calling out to him, but heard nothing. I tried calling out to him for the next few minutes, but then I figured he must be outside or something. So I put on what was there, and snuck out of the room to look for my bag. When I got to the room that I put my bag in, my confusion only grew as I was still unable to find my bag OR my clothes. That's when I heard the door shut behind me. Turning around, I saw him standing right in front of the closed door, the two of us alone in the room. That's when he cleared the air with me on what was going on:
I wouldn't find my clothes or my bag, no matter how hard I looked. That's because he just brought them out to the fire pit.
Stunned at his apparent change of tone, I felt compelled to listen rather than speak up, just like when my mom took that certain tone with me when she was mad. And so, I listened... my face began to turn ghost white, but I listened in my fearful state:
I was to do exactly as I was told. If at anytime I decided to challenge his authority, he would make sure I was locked out of the cabin to soak in my own terror as nightfall came and the noises in the night with it. I wouldn't find the key to the boat, not that I knew how to run it, and the shirt I was wearing? It was his favorite t-shirt. A sign of submission on my part and every image of having claimed me in his eyes. I wasn't about to take it off. He knew I would keep it on in this situation. I fell for his plot, hook line and sinker, just like my mom did, and after a moment or two to soak in the hopelessness of my situation, his first instruction came out:
I had a cock to suck. And that was just the beginning.
Clearly sick of the drama and the fighting (even if it was just me yelling at him for the most part), my mom was growing more and more irritable and her patience was waning. Then one night, she snapped. Going off on me in my room (I'd be 19 to 21 years old), she gives me the ultimatum. Accept him, or move out. It shut me right up. I didn't say a word for the rest of the night. The next morning, she came to wake me up, and in her typical "shut up, I'm talking" tone that she took with me every time we got into an argument, she laid out the details of a 'deal' that my stepdad proposed to her after last night's fight:
One weekend (or week) at his secluded cabin out on the lake. Just me and him... and miles of nature in every direction. To 'bond' and put things behind us. Jetskis, canoes, and even a boat with fishing stuff.
My mom took to that idea, hook line and sinker. How did I feel about it? I had no desire whatsoever to go out there, even with those perks. I couldn't afford to live on my own however and so I begrudgingly accepted the deal. The following Friday, we packed our things and left on the quietest car ride I've ever taken.
Once my stepdad and I pulled down a dirt road, as parked in a clearing near the lake about 15 minutes into the woods. He instructed me to grab my stuff, because we had to take the boat to the cabin on the island in the middle. He's been with the family long enough to know that I can't swim, so when I expressed my disdain for the idea of going out on the water, he assured me - in a very comforting tone actually - that everything would be fine. I took the bait, and boarded the boat. After a 5 to 10 minute boat ride to the island, we were there, my stepdads cabin.
We got settled into the cabin, and ever since we boarded the boat, we had our first legitimate conversation since I've known him. In a way, I was sort of forced to depend on him and so, for the time being anyway, he was kind of a figure of authority to me. He took a shower, quickly followed by me taking my own. That's where things begin to take a turn for the worst.
I stepped out of the shower, took a handful of minutes to dry off and brush my teeth, and quickly discovered that I clearly forgot to bring my change of clothes in with me. Since the changing room was right outside of the bathroom, I didn't think anything of it. And so I peeked into the room, and found...... a t-shirt laying across the edge of the bed, along with my bra and boyshorts. Confused, mostly because the shirt looked an awful lot like the one he would wear all the time, I tried calling out to him, but heard nothing. I tried calling out to him for the next few minutes, but then I figured he must be outside or something. So I put on what was there, and snuck out of the room to look for my bag. When I got to the room that I put my bag in, my confusion only grew as I was still unable to find my bag OR my clothes. That's when I heard the door shut behind me. Turning around, I saw him standing right in front of the closed door, the two of us alone in the room. That's when he cleared the air with me on what was going on:
I wouldn't find my clothes or my bag, no matter how hard I looked. That's because he just brought them out to the fire pit.
Stunned at his apparent change of tone, I felt compelled to listen rather than speak up, just like when my mom took that certain tone with me when she was mad. And so, I listened... my face began to turn ghost white, but I listened in my fearful state:
I was to do exactly as I was told. If at anytime I decided to challenge his authority, he would make sure I was locked out of the cabin to soak in my own terror as nightfall came and the noises in the night with it. I wouldn't find the key to the boat, not that I knew how to run it, and the shirt I was wearing? It was his favorite t-shirt. A sign of submission on my part and every image of having claimed me in his eyes. I wasn't about to take it off. He knew I would keep it on in this situation. I fell for his plot, hook line and sinker, just like my mom did, and after a moment or two to soak in the hopelessness of my situation, his first instruction came out:
I had a cock to suck. And that was just the beginning.
