Drunk Daughter

“Oh Jesus Christ. . .” I mumble through the fog of a hangover. “What happened last night?”
Oh no. The memories start to drift back into my head as the dizziness of sitting up subsides. I didn’t. I didn’t do what I think I did. I couldn’t have. Could I? It’s hazy but I think I remember having sex last night. I’m almost sure of it. I can’t believe I lost my virginity to my Dad.
But with who? I remember coming home early last night. How is that possible? I remember seeing the clock on the microwave as I walked by the kitchen. It was 10:36 PM. Not late at all. I’m pretty sure I had sex after that but that only leaves one possibility. Dad was in the living room when I came home. He was waiting up for me fuming mad.
The memories are start to slide into place but it doesn’t make sense. . .
“Are you drunk? Oh my god Ashley. . .I can’t believe this,” Dad roars as I stumble into the living room. “I let you out of my sight for two hours and you come home plastered!?!”
I don’t really know how to respond. I’m not even sure how this happened. I only had two drinks before I started feeling really silly. Then Sarah, my best friend, gave me a ride home. Sarah’s almost 17 and we were hanging out with some of her high school friends. Sarah was worried that something had happened, that I drank too much or that something was slipped in my drink. It was pretty odd that I felt so out of it after only two drinks, after all. I just couldn’t think of a way to explain to Dad though. How could I explain that I’d been drinking? He knew that I was hanging out with a lot of boys and he was already worried that I was out having sex. There’s no way I could explain it.
“You were with those boys again weren’t you?” He bellowed, hardly trying to mask how angry he was.
“Yes Dad. I’m sorry,” I mumbled finding it impossible not to slur my words.
“So you were drinking with high school boys? You were fooling around with them weren’t you? Did you have sex? You’re too young to be having sex, you little slut!” He hissed.
“No Dad! I didn’t! I don’t feel good, okay. I just want to go to bed,” I said fighting back tears from the sting of his insult.
“Oh you’re going to bed alright,” he said with a mix of anger and cunning as he grabbed my arm hard and pulled me to my room.
“Get undressed,” he ordered throwing me onto my bed.
“What?” I practically, squeaked. I couldn’t understand why he would say something like that.
I watched helplessly from my bed as he started to undo his belt. I had started thinking that maybe I was getting a spanking when he threw his belt to the floor.