My father loved me.  He didn't mean to do what he did, he just got angry or drunk.  Hell, it was my fault for getting on his bad side.  At least that's what I convinced myself.  My name is Bethany.  I'm a rottweiler, like the rest of my family.  Anyway, my first memory is being in bed one night when I was three.  My dad came home from the bar after a night of drinking, and he and Mom talked for a little while.  She didn't seem to mind his drinking, and as I grew older I started to understand why.  But that night, Daddy came into my room, and he smelled awful.  He walked over to my bed and undid his pants, letting them drop to the floor.  As he pulled out his erect penis, he looked down at me and said, "Open your mouth, slut."
  I don't remember anything before then, but I guess that was something Daddy did many times before, as I opened my mouth only for him to shove himself as deep as he could before I started to gag.  He didn't care, and he kept shoving as I struggled to pull away.  After a few seconds, he finally let go and I could recover, but he grabbed my head and shoved himself back in.  I had a very rough understanding of how to give a blowjob, but I think he just liked forcing things.  I guess a term for it is "Face fucking," but I didn't know that then.  Tears rolled down my face as Daddy roughly jerked my head forward and backward, and I prayed for him to cum and be satisfied.  But that night he stopped early.  I gasped for breath as I laid back down, hoping I got off easy.  But Daddy looked down at me and said, "I'm not done yet.  We're going to do something very special."
  With that, he pulled my blanket off the bed and tossed it aside.  I just laid there in shock, wondering what he was doing.  He grabbed my pajama bottoms and pulled them off, which caused me to reach down and try to stop him.  He hit me with the back of his hand, sending me flying on my back.  Daddy hissed and yanked off my panties.  I was in full blown tears at this moment, as my left eye started to swell and my nose trickled blood.  He pulled open my legs with such force I thought they would snap like a wishbone, and he positioned himself in between as I looked on in horror.  Before I knew it he had shoved his penis into my vagina, and it felt like a spear had been shoved inside.  A searing pain like nothing I had felt before overcame my body, causing me to shriek in pain and terror.  Daddy shoved my panties in my mouth and started thrusting in and out.  The pain throbbed with each motion until I finally felt him ejaculate inside.  I sobbed into my panties and hoped that was it, but he quickly straddled my small body and shoved his penis, virgin blood and all, into my mouth and told me to clean him up.  I went to sleep with the blood and semen coating my fur and staining my sheets while my tears soaked my pillow.
  The next morning Mom saw me and she turned to Dad, and all she could say was, "Treated her a little rough, huh?"
  Daddy's response was, "Yep, even busted her cherry."  They continued talking as Dad gave all the details, as if they were both proud of what had transpired.

That was only the first night.  For the next five years, Daddy would rape me.  Sometimes he even raped me in the kitchen or living room, right in front of my mom and brother.  Speaking of my brother, Brian is two years older than me, and he confided that Daddy started raping him when he was two.  On occasion I was forced to watch Brian be raped by Daddy, and his experience was just as violent as mine.  Mom seemed to love watching her babies get raped, and sometimes even tortured.  She once told me, "If anyone asks about your cuts and bruises, you tell them that you just like it rough."  Brian and I even learned that she told our teachers that we're into BDSM, and that it's all in good family fun.  Brian and I never told anyone because Mommy said that if we did that she and Daddy would go away forever, and we'd be all alone.  We still loved our parents, despite the bad things they did to us, so that threat had us fearing what would happen if we said anything.  After all, we believed it was our fault that we made them mad at us, which made them do those horrible things.

It all came to a head on my eighth birthday.  My best friend Celia had gotten me this awesome dress as a gift.  I loved it so much I immediately went and put it on.  It was beautiful.  Her twin brother Lance got me a really cute doll, too.  It was a great party, to be honest.  Then everyone left, and that's when things got ugly.  Once he was sure everyone was gone, Dad pulled out his switchblade and sliced the dress from bottom to top.  I was horrified and bursting into tears as this wonderful gift was viciously cut from my body.  Mom grabbed the doll and ripped its head off, causing me to bawl even more.  Dad took the dress, balled it up, and shoved it in my mouth.  He pulled my panties off and Mom shoved the headless doll up my butt.  Dad smacked me across the face three or four times and I fell to the ground sobbing.  Both my eyes started to swell and my lip bled.  Brian looked on helplessly as tears streamed down his face, as well.
  Dad rolled me onto my back and he thrust into my vagina.  The pain I had felt five years earlier had long since dissipated, but Dad made sure I didn't enjoy what he was doing.  He took his knife and sliced across my torso and thighs.  He cut the swollen skin under my eyes, causing blood to gush out.  He smacked me across the face every few thrusts.  I barely caught a glimpse of Mom shoving a spiked dildo up Brian's rear, causing him to scream in pain.
  I think I passed out a couple times, but Dad always kept smelling salts on hand just in case.  He wanted me to be awake as much as possible.  Eventually he climaxed and it all ended.  He left me laying there, my lovely dress in my mouth, covered in blood, and my adorable doll lodged up my anus.  Before I passed out once more, I saw Dad taking over on my brother as Mom shoved the spiked dildo in his mouth.

A couple days later, Celia asked me why I wasn't wearing the dress, and I burst into tears.  I told her the whole story.  Part of me didn't want to, as I remembered Mom's threat, but I was so devastated by what happened to my two most beloved gifts that it just all came out.  Celia was horrified and immediately told her parents, who then contacted the authorities.  My parents were arrested soon after, and Brian and I were put into a temporary home.  We had no idea what was going on.  We were lonely and scared.  But only a couple days later, we were taken to the home of the Dimitriou family.  Apparently they heard our story on the news and wanted to help.  They're a rabbit couple, and were in their mid-twenties.  They lived in the same school district we were raised in, but we wouldn't go to the same school as our old friends until we entered high school.  Still, it was close enough that we could visit on occasion.
  With the help of the Dimitrious, Brian and I learned how manipulative our parents had been and how wrong they were.  When we had the chance to see what real loving parents were about, we knew that our parents didn't love us.  All we were to them was a pair of sex toys to be used and abused.  Mom told the police that Dad would come home drunk ro get explosively angry as a way to try and excuse his behavior, or try to place the blame on us.
  In the year following our adoption by the Dimitriou family, Celia and Lance introduced Brian and me to a martial arts school, where we learned how to defend ourselves against any future rape attempt.  We knew then we didn't do anything wrong, and we couldn't change the past.  We now had loving parents who have two young children of their own.  Brian and I couldn't have been happier.  As for the lost dress and doll, Celia and Lance provided replacements for my ninth birthday, and they're both things I will treasure forever.