by Hunt, Lexi
Luckily, my stepdad still held me in his iron grip, keeping me on my feet while I caught my breath. Then, he reached around me and turned off the shower before removing the gag from my mouth. I gasped, grateful to finally be able to breathe again, and slumped against the wall once more, completely exhausted.
My stepdad kissed me softly on the back of the neck, and I shivered. I couldn’t believe what had just happened, but I thought it best not to question it. Something inside of me told me that it was inevitable.
My stepdad gently pulled out, but kept hold of me while I gathered my strength. It was strange that I had punched him for daring to call me weak, and yet now I was unable to stand unaided.
“You did well today, Sharleen” my stepdad said softly, catching me by surprise. I turned to look at him and saw that he was smiling. I wasn’t sure if he was referring to my training, the punch I had landed on him or what had just happened moments ago – but I smiled back in response. I knew then that our training sessions together were about to get far more physical, and that suited me just fine.
Punishing The Runaway
(A Story of Rough Sex And Anal Punishment Between ‘Daddy’ And Daughter)
SYNOPSIS:
Sally is sick of her stepdad’s attitude, and after a particularly heated row one night she finally gathers the courage to do something that she had been thinking of doing for a long time. She grabs her bags, and her savings, and hits the road. Sally truly believes a life of travelling would be preferable to living with her controlling stepdad, and manages to hitch a ride to a hostel that very night. But what she doesn’t know is that her stepdad has been following her, and during the night he creeps into her room with a mind to hatch a plan to make sure she never runs away again...
I struggled to keep my eyes open as we travelled down the freeway. We’d been driving for at least three hours and I was absolutely exhausted. Who would have known that sitting down all day could be so tiring?
I clutched my rucksack to my chest and sighed, allowing my head to flop forwards onto it. I desperately wanted to go to sleep, but I just didn’t feel comfortable. The woman behind the wheel was a complete stranger to me, and I just felt too nervous to allow myself to fall asleep next to her.
I had never hitch-hiked before, and I was feeling completely out of my depth. But that day, I just felt like I had no choice. I’d had enough of my life at home, and just needed to get away. Me and my stepdad just weren’t getting along, and lately his attitude towards me had worsened. I was eighteen years old, and wanted to live my own life. Hell, I needed to live my own life! Living under my stepdad’s strict rules and regulations was absolutely killing me, and I realised that I simply had to get away.
That night was the last straw. I was in the kitchen, making myself some supper, when my stepdad came storming in with a face like thunder.
“Where are my beers?” he snapped at me, catching me off guard and making me jump slightly. I stared at him for a moment, unsure what he was talking about.
“What beers?” I eventually asked, still not sure what he was talking about. His scowl deepened and he stalked towards me.
“Don’t give me that crap” he spat, “I know it was you. You just can’t keep your hands to yourself, can you, Sally? You waltz around this place, taking whatever the hell you want – and expect everybody else to pick up the tab!”
I was shocked by his outburst, and stared at him in surprise for a few moments. He’d always been a control freak, and he’d always had a temper too – but this was just out of order! The way he glared at me made me feel uncomfortable, and almost guilty! I hadn’t touched his precious beers, and I literally had no idea what he was talking about.
He had that affect on me. He was so aggressive and forceful in his opinions that he would browbeat me down into submission whenever we had an argument. Sometimes I used to think that he did it out of boredom or frustration, but now I wasn’t so sure. Lately I had begun to realise that he did it for sheer amusement. He enjoyed exerting his power over me. He enjoyed manipulating me, and watching me resist against him. He enjoyed making me sweat!
When I was a young teenager he would take great delight in disciplining me whenever I was out of line. He would go to great lengths to try and catch me doing something I shouldn’t. I remember he once ‘randomly’ dropped in when I was having a sleepover at a friend’s house when I was sixteen, claiming I had ‘left my toothbrush at home’ so he had brought it over to me. The toothbrush he brought me obviously wasn’t my own – because I already had it with me, but this didn’t seem to matter to him. He was just determined to come and spy on me, and would obviously use any excuse he could think of to interfere. He was so controlling that he would even call up my school to make sure I really had done homework when I said I had.
Anyone on the outside, looking in on the situation, would have simply thought that he was an over-protective father. They would have thought that he had my best interests at heart, and that he was only doing what every loving father would do in his situation. But I knew the truth. I knew that his attitude wasn’t normal, and the older I got, the more I resisted against him.
That had culminated in the huge row that had erupted earlier that night. As he glared at me across the kitchen table, accusing me of something that we both knew I hadn’t done, I lost control. I hurled my glass of milk at him, and it hit him in the chest with a thud, covering him from head to toe.
“I didn’t take your fucking beer!” I screamed, stamping my foot like a child having a tantrum “you’re suck a fucking freak! I can’t live like this anymore!”
I stormed past him, averting my eyes from his stone cold gaze. I knew that if I looked at him I would probably lose my nerve, and I was determined not to let that happen. I was determined to follow through with something that I had been planning for months. I was going to leave that house, and my ridiculously dysfunctional family far behind me and spend the next couple of years travelling. I’d been saving up money for a round the world trip with one of my friends, but she had recently backed out of the idea – so I was left with a few hundred dollars saved up. I kept on adding to that surplus of cash, knowing that I would need it if I were to finally break free and leave. And that moment had finally come.
I stormed upstairs and took a pre-packed suitcase from my closet, then gathered up some other basic essentials, including my sleeping bag and my notebook, containing details of various hostels and campsites nearby. I didn’t own a tent, but I figured I could find work once I was out on the road and then buy one. I just wanted to get out of the house as quickly as possible, so I threw on my coat and scurried down the stairs, leaving my stepdad still seething in the kitchen, clearly unsure how to handle the situation.
I didn’t even tell him I was leaving for good. He probably thought I was stopping at a friend’s house for the night or something, and I thought it best to let him keep thinking that. If he had known I was leaving for good he may have tried to follow me, or at least would have told my mom and worried her sick. I didn’t want that. Me and my mom didn’t really get on, and she was hardly ever around anymore, but I still didn’t want her to worry about me. I just figured that I would write to them to let them know I was safe as soon as I got chance; I was more concerned with hitting the road. So, after nearly an hour of walking down the highway holding my thumb out, I finally managed to hitch a ride.
The woman who picked me up wasn’t very chatty. I was kind of glad – as I’d never gotten into the car with a stranger before, and I was unsure what to say. I didn’t want to make polite conversation, and clearly she didn’t either – so we just drove in silence for the next three hours. I asked her to drop me off on the outskirts of the small village where the nearest hostel was, and she obliged. My eyes began to droop again as the dark countryside zoomed past, and the rhythmic humming of the engine had a strangely hypnotic affect on me. My head flopped forwards onto my rucksack even lower, and before I knew it I was snoring.
Suddenly, I flinched as I felt a
hand on my shoulder. I looked up and saw the woman peering at me with a kind expression on her face.
“We’re here” she said, gesturing to the building we were parked in front of “I figured I’d just take a detour and drop you off at the hostel. It’s very late, and I wouldn’t feel right having you walk through the village on your own.”
Her kind words immediately made me feel deeply emotional, and I had to force myself to smile with gratitude – otherwise I might have just burst into tears.
“You didn’t have to do that” I said, trying to keep my voice steady “thank you so much, I really appreciate it.”
“It’s no bother” the woman said, refusing the twenty dollars that I thrust towards her “you take care now.”
With that she drove away, leaving me standing just outside the hostel, feeling emotional and uneasy. I quickly checked myself, and took a deep breath. If I was going to get used to a tough life on the road then I had better start toughening up! I picked up my case and my rucksack, then walked through the doors of the hostel. I was greeted by a grumpy and tired looking man, sitting behind a small desk in the hallway. I told him I’d only be staying the night, and paid him for my room.
He didn’t bother getting up out of his desk to show me to where I would be staying, but instead pointed a bony finger towards a set of double doors at the end of the corridor. I thanked him and made my way in that direction, through the doors and then found my room. It was very basic, and some of the paint was peeling off the walls, but it was clean, at least.
I sat down on the edge of the bed, and tested it’s firmness. It felt as though it might break at any second! I sighed a deep sigh and began to take out my sleeping bag. When I had researched the hostel on the internet I noticed that it had showers, but I certainly didn’t feel like trying them out in the middle of the night. Instead, I slipped out of my jeans and coat, and slid into my sleeping bag, before lying down (slowly and carefully) on the bed. It had been an exhausting few hours, not to mention stressful, so I was glad to finally get some rest. Before long, the distant sounds of traffic outside, and the thud of footsteps coming from other guests inside the hostel gradually began to fade. I slipped into a deep and restful sleep – allowing my dreams to take me to strange and disturbing places.
I was running down a long, dark corridor with a door at the end of it. I don’t know what I was running from, but I did know that it was chasing me. The faster I ran, the more it seemed to gain on me and the further away the door seemed. I felt a rising sense of panic, and tried to cry out but no sound came from me. It was as if I were trying to run underwater! Then suddenly a figure appeared in front of me, and I crashed headlong into his chest. I felt strong arms enveloping me, squeezing me tight, so that all the fear and frustration melted away. I could hear his heart beating in his chest, and hear his heavy breathing. Then I felt his hands sliding over my body – tugging at my clothes.
It was so vivid and real! I could actually feel him as he pulled against the fabric of my clothes, tugging down my skirt so that my bare legs were exposed to the cold air. I couldn’t see his face, but that didn’t matter. I was more concerned with his hands than his face...
“You’re a bad girl” I heard a distant voice say, and I suddenly opened my eyes... and screamed.
A hand was immediately clasped over my mouth to quiet me, and I squealed as I realised who it was that was manhandling me this way. My stepdad peered down at me with a strange look in his eyes, studying my face as he hushed me.
“Don’t make a sound” he whispered. There was no threatening tone in his voice, but somehow it was still authoritative. I knew I had to do what he said.
He removed his hand and I gasped. I wanted to scream and shout, but something about the way he was looking at me made me remain silent and still. All I could do was scowl at him, feeling my heart racing. It was then that I noticed that my sleeping bag had been pulled down, and I was lying beneath him wearing nothing but a skimpy vest top and my panties.
"What are you doing here?" I whispered, rage emanating from my voice "have you been following me you psycho?"
My stepdad chuckled and bent low, over me so that his face was just a few inches from mine. He had one hand pressed firmly on my shoulder, pinning me to the bed -- and used his other to gently stroke my cheek. I should've recoiled at that, but instead I felt my stomach do a somersault at his touch. I gasped again, but made no sound of protest.
"Of course I followed you" my stepdad whispered, his lips just inches from mine "I had to make sure you were safe. There are a lot of bad men in the world, Sally. A lot of men who would take advantage of you, given the chance...”
His lips were just centimetres from mine now; I could feel his breath gently grazing my sensitive skin as he spoke. This was a strange and frankly surreal situation to be in, but for some reason it felt right. I felt my anger dissipating completely as he spoke, and became more and more aware a rising heat between my legs. At that moment, the man looming over me wasn't my stepdad anymore. He was concerned, kind stranger with a soothing voice and strong hands.
I licked my lips, and inhaled sharply as he pressed his mouth against mine. I knew it was coming, yet is still surprised me to actually feel it. His mouth was rough, and I could feel his stubble grazing my chin as he slid his tongue into my mouth. I couldn't believe what was happening, so I simply laid there and allowed him to kiss me -- sliding his tongue over my own in smooth, passionate strokes. I couldn't believe I was kissing my stepdad! And I couldn't believe it was causing my pussy to get very, very wet.
My stepdad shifted position, half straddling me with his knee between my legs and one knee resting on the bed. He pressed his groin up against me, and I could feel his huge erection through his pants. He was hard and ready to me; I could tell he was particularly excited because he was trying to keep his breathing regular, and failing. He kissed me with a deep sense of urgency now, and pressed down onto my body with the weight of his own, pinning me to the bed.
It felt so wrong to be doing this! I felt ashamed of myself by the way I was letting him carry on. But deep down I knew that I wanted it. My pussy was aching in my panties, desperate to be touched and fondled by his strong hands. At that moment I wanted my daddy to touch my pussy. I wanted him to feel how wet I was.
Suddenly my daddy grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me up into a sitting position. I immediately took advantage of my freedom, and pulled my vest over my head -- revealing my firm and perfectly round trips. My daddy gasped as he gazed at me. He removed his shirt, and I too drank in the sight of this toned body. For a couple of seconds we stared at each other, like we were just realising the enormity of what was happening. But neither of us stopped it. Neither of us gave into the more rational side of our brains and stopped what's about to happen.
I licked my index finger and my middle finger, then ran them over my pink nipples, becoming more and more excited as my daddy watched. I could see the bulge of his cock straining against the fabric of his pants, and a gasped with delight when he undid his zipper and took out his huge, hard dick.
"Fuck, I want you so bad right now” my stepdad whispered, causing me to go weak all over. I smiled at him, and bit my lip as I rubbed one hand against my chest and then slid my other down to my dripping, wet pussy. I took my panties to one side and slipped finger inside myself, groaning and gasping as my daddy looked on in delight. He began massaging his cock, grunting with satisfaction as I continued to finger-fuck myself in front of him. I knew what we were doing was wrong, but just didn't care. Something inside of me had broken that night, and I no longer felt like his stepdaughter. All I felt like was a horny little slut, who needed her daddy's cock -- badly!
I didn't have to wait any longer to get my wish. All of a sudden, my daddy was on me -- pinning down against the bed and directing his thick, hard cock toward my sopping wet hole. He teased my opening with his swollen tip, dipping inside me a couple of inches and then cruelly drawing back out again. I couldn't take an
y more!
"Daddy, please -- I want you to fuck me!" I gasped, grasping my daddy's bulging biceps and squeezing desperately. My stepdad's eyes flashed with excitement at my words. Hearing me plead like this must have turned him on even more, because he grabbed me by my hips and thrust all that he had into my tight, quivering pussy. I screamed with delight as I felt his balls slapping against my ass before he drew out and slammed back inside me with just as much force.
I whimpered and wailed like a wounded animal as he slammed into me over and over again. There was a sharp pain in my tight cunt, as he stretched me out with this wide girth. I'd never taken cock as big as my daddy's before, and I couldn't believe how completely stretched out and full it made me feel. I found that I was clenching around him, as if my pussy was literally trying to draw him further inside of me. It just didn't make any sense at all, but I didn't bother questioning it. My pussy was hot and hungry, and all I wanted at that moment was for my stepdad to fuck me harder.
I lifted up my hips, trying to get more friction against my hard clit. My stepdad slipped his hand beneath me and grabbed one of my ass cheeks, squeezing tight. He grunted with exertion as he continued to slam into me, and I couldn't help but gasp as I caught sight of the strange, animal expression on his face. It was like he had completely lost himself, the veins in his neck were standing on end in his muscles were bulging as he ploughed into me. I felt so tiny and vulnerable as he ravaged me, but that just turned me on all the more. I started grinding my hips up and down, riding his cock as if I was mounted on top of him.