“Homer! Please, stop!” Lisa winced in agony.
Lisa Simpson was crying out her rage and her pain. Her rage because she was useless to stop the fiendish acts of Homer. She was too petite in front of his 200 pounds. And her pain because he was raping her.
It had all started when she was only 5 years old. Back then, she still looked up to him, he seemed to be there when she needed him the most, even if he was quite irresponsible. She loved him. He loved her for more then that. Actually, love wasn’t the right word. Homer just used her body for release. He didn’t like Lisa Simpson the person; only body she had. That’s why one warm summer night, he had come into her room.