Caiden threatened me with detention, but I kept talking back to him so finally he decided I needed to be taught a lesson. He made me stand next to his chair and then he yanked me down by my tie and bent me over his knee.
“You’ve been a very naughty girl,” he scolded. “You mustn’t fraternize with boys. I wish I didn’t have to do this but you need to be taught a lesson.”
He brought his hand down and smacked my right arse cheek. SMACK. He did it again; hitting the other cheek this time. SMACK. The impact of his hand on my arse cheeks stung, but I didn’t tell him to stop. There was some pain, but it was my pain and I didn’t want to escape from it. I wanted to feel it again and again.
SMACK. SMACK.
“Have you learned your lesson now? Do you promise to stay away from boys?”
“I’ll stay away from boys,” I said. “But not men. One man in particular is going to fuck me every which way he pleases.”
I braced myself for another spanking from Caiden but instead he lifted me up and pushed me over the desk. I could’ve handled a few more smacks, but Caiden couldn’t handle waiting any longer. He slipped on a condom and slammed his cock inside me.
We fucked with an urgency I hadn’t felt since the day of the away day. He took hold of my pigtails yanking my head back as he ploughed me with his large shaft. I screamed and groaned like an animal as he fucked me hard from behind.
“Harder,” I yelled. “Don’t hold back. Fuck me harder.”
He did. He pulled out and slammed back in with what could almost be described as rage as his balls slammed against my pussy with each thrust until he shook and came inside me. I collapsed onto the desk and pushed all the papers out of the way and onto the floor. I’d have to clean up before we left, but right now I didn’t care how much mess I made.
We ended up having to make a quick exit when the caretaker came down the hall. I think he heard us running, but he didn’t bother to chase after us. We ran back to the car and drove away quickly. Anyone who saw me in the car on the way home would have seen me in pigtails and a slutty schoolgirl uniform. The house was empty when I got home, so I kept the uniform on for a few more hours for Caiden’s amusement.
---
I’d been so busy screwing Caiden that I hadn’t given much thought to Sheri and my dreams of becoming a food blogger. Caiden asked once in a while, but I kept making excuses and told him that I had given up on the idea. Sheri tried to speak to me a few times and showed an interest in what I was doing in the kitchen, but I always made an excuse to avoid the conversation. Eventually she gave up.
I should have just focused on my own work, but every time I tried to be creative in the kitchen I kept thinking of all those other bloggers out there whose recipes had been stolen by Sheri. There were probably others out there like her as well. What was the point in trying to make a success of things when you work could just be stolen by people rich and famous?
One evening, Dad and Sheri went out for dinner, so I did what I always did when the house was empty and went to find Caiden. We tried not to spend too much time together when either of our parents were around so that they wouldn’t suspect we were doing anything, but the second we had time to ourselves we usually jumped on each other. Caiden was not in his room and his running shoes were not by the door, so he’d probably gone for a run or to the gym.
I slumped down on the sofa, disappointed not to be getting any right now, and put my feet up on the coffee table. As I slouched down, I saw my dad’s briefcase under the table. The briefcase was usually locked, but this time he’d left it unlocked. I couldn’t resist opening it and looking inside. If I was going to be a lawyer one day, I might as well see what type of work he did. Maybe it wouldn’t be half as boring as I expected.
I pulled out a wedge of papers. They weren’t as boring as I expected. They were more boring. Far more boring. The first document was an employment contract for a bank manager. Once I’d looked at the salary information there was not much else of interest. There was a memo on some niche area of intellectual property law and a draft court filing that had my dad’s handwriting in red ink around the margins. Some poor associate had a lot of edits to make in the morning.
The last document was an email chain between Dad and Sheri. Fortunately, the tone of the emails was professional and formal, so there were no lovey-dovey things or heart emoticons. Mind you, I couldn’t imagine my father doing that in emails outside of work either.
The email chain confirmed everything Caiden had told me about Sheri. In fact, he had understated what she had done. By the time I had read through all the emails, I realized her entire career has been built on a fraud.
I opened up a scanning app on my phone and scanned in images of the emails. I don’t know why I did it; the emails were confidential between a solicitor and his client so it’s not like I could do anything with them, but I wanted copies anyway. Perhaps one day, when dad was giving me one of his sanctimonious and pretentious speeches, I could pull out the photos and show him what a hypocrite he was to marry a fraud like Sheri.
I put all the documents back in the briefcase and slipped the briefcase back under the coffee table in the exact position I’d found it. I read through the emails again. They were remarkably revealing. Sheri was basically confiding everything to my dad so that he could help clear up the mess she’d made. He’d certainly made a lot of money from her, assuming he still collected the fee once they’d become engaged.
I forced myself to put my phone down and turned the TV on as a distraction. I flicked through to a cooking channel and couldn’t have been less surprised to see Sheri’s face on one of the imported American TV shows.
She was the head judge of a panel reviewing food prepared by amateur chefs. People like me. When she had the nerve to criticize a contestant’s meal as being unoriginal, something in me snapped. I’d been too hasty in assuming there was nothing I could do with the emails. There was nothing I could legally do, but as long as I covered my tracks there was most definitely something I could do to make Sheri accountable for what she had done.
I created another email account and headed out to the pub. I didn’t want a drink, but they had free Wi-Fi, and right now I wanted to do something online that I didn’t want traced back to me.
I was taking a stupid risk just to spite someone else, but she deserved it. Caiden might think it was a silly thing to do, but one thing was for sure; Mum would be proud of me.
I’d never been much of a runner. I worked out regularly, but that usually involved lifting weights or rowing if I wanted a cardio workout. At a push, I would do some cycling or use an elliptical, but you’d rarely see me on a treadmill or running in the wild.
Friends from back home described running outdoors as being liberating and freeing, but that had never clicked for me. I got bored running for more than twenty minutes at a time and found it impossible to get into the zone.
Out here in this sleepy part of town the only way to stay fit was to run. I should have bought some weights and turned the garage into a gym, but I’d be gone soon so there wasn’t much point. The nearest gym was at least a twenty minute drive away and I didn’t have a UK driver’s license.
Today I had a purpose behind my run. I wasn’t out here pounding the pavement to get fit or train for a race. I planned to explore the town a bit and see if I could find the man that had been following me.
I knew what his car looked like, so I ran around the town looking for a red Ford Escort with a license plate starting with a Y. It wasn’t a lot to go on, but it was a small town, so I liked my chances of finding something, if not the first day, then perhaps the second or third. That’s assuming he lived nearby. If he’d been hired by Naomi to find me then he could be staying anywhere, but I had nothing else to go on so it was worth a shot.
He hadn’t been outside the house when I left. I’d only seen him twice so he wasn’t exactly persistent in his efforts. With any luck he was working for Naomi and ripping her off by pretending he was taili
ng me full-time.
Naomi had been in touch again, and this time she told me she was visiting Windsor to see me. Apparently the building manager at my former London home had told her my forwarding address. That sounded plausible enough to be true and if it were not for the man following me then I might have believed it. No, I suspected her source of information was this mystery man, and if I found him I planned to make him confess as much.
Thinking of Naomi put me in a foul mood, so I tried to focus on more pleasant thoughts while keeping an eye out for the car. Vicky. Thanks to Vicky, I had enough pleasant thoughts to last me a lifetime, and we’d only been screwing around for a month or so.
“Screwing around” probably wasn’t the right term to use here. It was more than that. We weren’t “making love” or anything soppy like that, but we were at it with a regularity and consistency that I’d never come close to with anyone else before.
Best of all, neither of us ever felt the need to hold back. If I wanted to do something then I asked Vicky if she was interested, and she usually said yes. She even had a few ideas of her own that had taken me completely by surprise. She’d gone from being a virgin to begging me to shoot my load on her face in a remarkably short amount of time.
A few days ago, after one of the best hours of my life at her old boarding school, we decided to go shopping for a few new toys to use in the bedroom. We played around with the vibrator a lot, but Vicky always ended up throwing it to one side and pleading for the real thing after just a few minutes. Who was I to deny her what she wanted?
When in the shop, I’d picked out a small vibrator that looked inferior compared to the larger toy that Vicky had purchased. She’d frowned and told me she already had one that size.
“You can control the vibration with an app on your phone,” I’d explained. “That’s why it’s so expensive.”
“That doesn’t sound very sexy,” she’d said. “I prefer it when you control it with your hand between my legs.”
She didn’t understand why I wanted it, but I bought the toy anyway and then explained my plan to her the next morning just before we were about to go out for lunch with Sheri and Roy.
“You’re going to put this in your panties,” I told her. “Now. Then I will control the vibration over lunch.”
“You’re kidding,” she’d exclaimed.
I assured her I was deadly serious and in the end she slipped the toy in her panties just before we hopped in the car. I took my phone out of my pocket and smiled at Vicky a few times to let her know I was considering activating the vibrations. She tensed up in anticipation, but I didn’t do anything. All through lunch I waited until she had likely forgotten about the small toy pressed against her clit.
Finally, when I noticed her father lecturing her on something that caused her eyes to glaze over, I unlocked my phone and set the vibrator to pulse at a low level. She jumped slightly when it started, but her father was too absorbed in his own words to notice.
Vicky couldn’t look at me, but I could see what her body was going through. Her hand clasped the table as I increased the intensity of the vibrations. She turned to face me when her father finished his lecture. She bit her lip, but made no sign that I should stop.
When Vicky excused herself to visit the bathroom, I waited a few minutes and then turned the vibrations up once more, then again, and then finally up to the maximum level. A few minutes later, the app on my phone told me the device had been disconnected, and Vicky returned looking flush and somewhat exhausted.
Vicky wasn’t the only one to have new experiences—I’d certainly never made a women come before just by using my phone.
Eventually the running app on my phone told me I had run five miles. I’d been running away from the house this entire time, so I immediately took a left turn and started heading back in the general direction of home. Ten miles was more than enough for me today.
I often ended up with sore muscles if I didn’t do a decent cool down, so I walked the last mile towards home. Two hundred yards from home I saw the red Ford Escort parked on the side of the road.
---
I approached the car from behind, walking slowly along the sidewalk and even stopping occasionally to stretch my muscles to look inconspicuous. The man was sat in the driver’s seat, and he would be able to see me if he looked in his passenger mirror. Fortunately, his gaze was focused on the house.
I pretended to send a message on my phone, but took a few photos of the car and license plates just in case. I wracked my brain for the best way to handle the situation. I’d hoped we would meet when he was out of the car; that way he wouldn’t be able to escape before I asked him some questions.
If the man had any sense, he would disappear as soon as I got close to the driver side door, but nothing the man had done so far led me to believe he had any experience with this.
The town was quiet, so there were few cars around. I waited until the coast was clear and quickly left the sidewalk and approached the car on the driver side. I stood close enough to the car that the man would not be able to see my face and then knocked on the door.
Instead of driving off, like any half decent investigator would’ve done, the man rolled down the window and asked if he could help me. At this point, I crouched down so that my face was level with his.
“Hello,” I said casually, “I’ve been meaning to have a word with you for some time.”
“Oh shit,” the man exclaimed. His hand went to the keys in the ignition, but I’d been expecting that and shoved my hand through the window to grab his wrist before he could turn on the engine. I leaned further inside and removed the keys from the ignition.
“You won’t be going anywhere without these,” I said, dangling the keys in front of his face. “Step out of the car. We’re going for a walk.”
The man kept cursing, but he did step out of the car. I could tell immediately he wasn’t going to cause me any problems. He was tall, but clearly not in good shape and his posture indicated a lack of self-confidence. I should be able to get information out of him easily enough, and he certainly wouldn’t dream of fighting back.
I led him to the path Vicky had shown me on our way to the pub. We’d taken this route a few times and I’d never seen anyone else, so we would have a degree of privacy. I pushed the man up against the wall and stood close enough to smell his breath. It was unpleasant, but I needed to appear threatening to him, and that meant getting up in his face.
“You’ve been following me,” I said. I spoke at a normal volume and with a calm tone. It was best to save the shouting and aggression for later.
“No,” he replied quickly. He was already panicking. This is going to be easy. “I haven’t, I swear.”
“Don’t lie to me. What’s your name?”
“Patrick McDade,” he replied instantly. He was telling me the truth. Idiot.
“Well Patrick, I’ve seen you around quite a bit in the last few months. You’ve followed me to the pub and have kept an eye on the house. I want to know why.”
“I promise, I haven’t been following you. I don’t even know who you are.”
“Who put you up to it?” I asked. “I’m going to start needing some answers from you Patrick. I’m going to need the truth or I’m liable to get angry. It’s nothing personal Patrick, but I don’t like people following me around. I’m sure you can understand.”
“You’re her boyfriend, right? You’re Victoria’s boyfriend?”
“I’m a friend,” I replied. Suddenly it dawned on me. Every time I’d seen this man I’d been with… “You’re following Vicky.”
Patrick nodded. “I’m not really following her. I just watch her occasionally. That sounds bad; it’s not that bad really. I promise.”
“So you’re some creepy stalker? Are you obsessed with her? You must be twice her age at least.”
“It’s not like that. I just want to talk to her.”
“It’s taking a great deal of resolve not to punch your lights out right
now,” I growled. “Vicky means a lot to me and I don’t like what I’m hearing from you. Give me a reason not to hit you or your going to wake up a few hours from now with a bad headache and a couple of black eyes.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll tell you. I’ve just been released from prison,” Patrick said.
“This isn’t getting any better,” I said.
“It was me. I was the man who hit her.”
“You hit Victoria?” I asked. Strangely, I felt more confusion than rage. The man looked meek and feeble. He didn’t look like he had an aggressive bone in his body and Vicky had never shown any signs of being abused. I was missing something.
“No, I hit Stephanie Marshall. Not Victoria. I was the man driving the car that hit Vicky’s mom.”
“Jesus,” I muttered. “You’re the creep who thought his text message was more important than the safety of everyone else on the road.”
Patrick nodded. “I’ll never forgive myself. I spent every day and night in prison thinking about it. Of course, I’ll never do it again, but it’s too late now.”
“You’re not speaking to Victoria,” I said. “She’s never mentioned any desire to see you or speak to you. I suggest you leave her alone.”
“I’m going to get myself back on my feet,” Patrick said. “It’s hard to get a job as an ex-con, but I used to make lots of money and I know I can do so again.”
“Well good for you,” I said through gritted teeth. I was back to wanting to punch the man.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I meant… maybe I can help. Financially that is. If she needs it. I don’t care if I have to give every pound I earn to her.”
“The family is okay for money. Look, I appreciate that you want to clear your guilty conscience, but you’re just going to have to live with it. Vicky has moved on and her mom’s recovering slowly. You don’t go near Vicky. Do you understand?”
“I don’t understand,” Patrick said. “I mean I do understand, but…” He trailed off. He looked nervous and agitated. His eyes glanced everywhere apart from at me.
Escape: A Stepbrother Romance Page 15