Cum for daddy (1)

CONTENT: Rough sex, bondage, stepdad, daughter.

CHAPTER 1

I yawned, then picked up a large stick and began to stoke the campfire. The sun was beginning to set in the sky, casting strange shadows over the floor. My stepdad, my mother and I had only been camping once before and it was back when I was very small. I think it was around the time that my mom had first met my stepdad.

I suppose she thought it would have been a nice family bonding session, and from what I remember it kind of was. I enjoyed hiking through the forests, swimming in the lakes, and singing songs around the campfire at night time.

But, now that I was 19 years old the charm and excitement of such a thing was lost on me. I was more interested in traipsing around the place, trying to see if I could get a signal on my mobile phone.

I didn't understand why my parents couldn't see that I was just too old to be coming on camping trips with them.

What on earth possessed them to drag me out into the middle of nowhere, I'll never know. I did get the feeling that it might have been my mom's idea, rather than my stepdad's. It was probably to do with the fact that he and I really hadn't been getting along recently.

We would argue constantly, it was as if we were locked in a permanent power struggle. Ever since I dropped out of college, my stepdad had treated me like a stranger inside my own home. I suppose he was just disappointed that, after having finally gotten rid of me for nearly a year, I had somehow managed to force my way back into their lives.

He was obviously over the moon when I finally left the college. I was barely a few weeks into my first semester before he converted my old bedroom into his own personal gym. I thought it was disrespectful, and downright outrageous, but my mom didn't seem to agree. She was constantly stuck in the middle, but when it came down to it she would always take his side over mine.

"It's important that your dad has a hobby" my mom said when I confronted her about him converting my room into a gym "ever since he lost his job he's been so bored rattling around the house, I think it will do him good to have a gym up there. Plus actually converting it was a little project for him, which I think he really enjoyed. You should be happy for him, Monica"

I couldn't believe the words that were coming out of her mouth.

Is she really that insensitive? Did she really not see why I would take offence at having my treasured childhood room ripped out and turned into my stepdad's own personal workout space? I was so angry that I couldn't even speak to her, and I remember that I just slammed the phone down on her, and didn't make contact with her again for a couple of weeks. It seemed like the more my stepdad desperately tried to exert control, the more my mom would submit and the further we would drift apart.

My stepdad definitely had some issues with control. He decided absolutely everything about the running of the household. It was up to him when we had our mealtimes, it was up to him what we ate for dinner, it was up to him when I could and couldn't use the telephone, he was even up to him to decide what friends I could and couldn't invite around the house. Suffice to say when I first went away to college, I was relieved to be away from it all.

But, sadly, I realised I just wasn't cut out for the life of an academic and within a few months I crumbled under the pressure, and turned up on the doorstep of my old home, suitcase in hand. The look on my stepdad's face was priceless! So now, a few months on I was still sleeping on the couch in my own home, because my stepdad flatly refused to turn my room back to the way it should be. Once again my mom offered no support, and tried her best to keep out of the entire situation.

Her only feeble attempt to help improve relations within the house was shipping is all off on this stupid camping trip. I sighed a deep sigh and stoked the fire once more.

My mom and stepdad were off on the other side of the lake, gathering up firewood to keep the campfire alight. I glanced at my watch and saw that it was only 9:30. That was a depressing thought, and knowing that I had another two days of this torture made me feel sick to my stomach.

It was then that an idea hit me. I knew that my stepdad had brought a cooler full of beer, and I also knew that I had at least half an hour before he and my mom would turn up bearing firewood. In a moment of excited madness I jumped up from where I sat and hurried over to their tent. I rummaged through my stepdad's belongings, raking through shorts, T-shirts, bits of fishing equipment and hiking boots until I uncovered the large blue cooler box that housed his hidden treasures.

I reached inside and pulled out a cold one from the bottom of the box. I wasn't even a real fan of beer, but for some reason I just felt like doing something really stupid. I knew that he was going to shout at me when he got back, and I knew that it was probably going to cause a huge argument. I just didn't care. The boredom and frustration was just too much for me, and I really didn't care at that moment about the consequences of my actions. I stuffed the beer into my belt buckle and used it to pop the cap off.

I paused just long enough to watch the little wisps of vapour escaping from the neck of the bottle before I smiled and gulped the entire thing down as fast as I could. But it wasn't enough.

I reached back into the cooler and pulled out another beer, flipping off the top as I had done the last one and then guzzling it just as fast. I felt the warmth spread of fuzziness beginning to move throughout my body. It made my head light and my knees weak, and caused the already ridiculous smile that was plastered across my face to

spread even wider. I reached into the box and pulled out another three beers and then made my way out of the tent. I glanced across the lake and saw that my mom and stepdad were no longer combing the lake shore. I realised that they might be on their way back, so I decided to pick my way through the foliage and go a little bit deeper into the forest. Maybe I could find some peace and quiet there to sit and drink my beers and be on my own.

I dipped into my tent for a second, just pulled out my headphones and my denim jacket, and quickly made my way through the trees and away from our little campsite. It didn't bother me that my parents might be worried when they realised I wasn't there on their return. They would probably just assume that I'd gone searching for a signal for my mobile phone once more. And I knew full well that my step dad wouldn't crack open the beers until after my mom had gone to sleep. My mom didn't drink, and although she never said it explicitly I knew that she didn't approve of my step dad drinking either. So, out of respect for her he usually didn't do it in front of her.

That gave me a least a couple of hours before he would realise that I'd taken the beers from him. I couldn't help but let out a little girlish giggle as I contemplated what I was doing. He really was going to be mad!

After a while I found myself approaching a clearing, and I suddenly wished that I brought my flashlight with me. The sun had pretty much set now, and the forest was kind of creepy at night. But still I pressed on, and walked into the centre of the clearing, sitting down on a conveniently placed tree stump.

I wasted no time in cracking open another beer and chugging it straight down. The stress and anxiety of having to move home, coupled with the feeling of being an outsider had just become too much for me. I wasn't supposed to drink, this I knew, but since returning home after a brief stint at college I completely disregarded any rules that were forced upon me. I was an adult, and it was time my parents accepted that. Especially my stepdad!

I plugged my headphones into my phone, and put on my favourite playlist. I inhaled deeply and took another gulp of my beer, leaning back onto my elbows and looking up at the night sky. It was a clear night, and if I hadn't been in such a foul mood I might have enjoyed the beauty of the clear sky a little more. The moon was practically full, and of this I was glad because

there was very little light in the forest. Before I knew it I had sunk another two beers, and was beginning to feel a little bit woozy.

I was actually kind of glad though, anything to take the edge off this awkward holiday. Had I not been so tipsy, I might have considered the severity of what I'd actually done. I might have also been a little bit more attentive and looking at my watch, and noticing that I'd actually been gone for nearly 3 hours. I was just having too much of a good time on my own, chilling out and listening to my favourite tunes and generally just getting away from it all.

I cracked open the final beer and put it to my lips. It was still cold and deeply refreshing, and I gulped greedily. But then, suddenly, I was rudely snatched away from my daydreams. The battery on my mobile phone had run flat, and the music stopped abruptly. I sighed a deep and exasperated sigh, and took my headphones out of my ears, stuffing them into my pocket.

"Great!" I said to myself, sarcastically. With no music and very little alcohol left I didn't see I had much choice but to make my way back to our campsite. I winced at the thought of what might be waiting there, and visualised the look of anger and worry on my parents faces.

Stealing the beer and running off on my own had seemed like such a good idea before, but now the it was dark and I was faced with the prospect of going back and facing them, I realised just how stupid I'd been. But, that wasn’t unlike me. I was constantly getting myself into stupid situations, and constantly suffering the consequences.

I got up from where I was sat, intending to make my way back to the campsite, and when I was finally on my feet I realised just how tipsy I actually was. The alcohol rushed straight to my legs, making me slightly bowlegged as I made my way out of the clearing. But it was only when I re- entered the dark, overgrown tangle of the forest I realised I'd lost my bearings! Cold panic began to wash over me, as I stumbled through the trees trying to figure out the way that I came.

I felt the fear rising in me as I realised that I had absolutely no idea where I was going. I quickened my pace, stumbling through the trees and tripping on roots as I blindly scouted my way back along what I thought was the path to the campsite. Just as I was becoming all consumed with panic, something happened that made me scream.

I crashed headfirst into something in the darkness, and whatever it was it let out a loud grunt. I screamed at the top of my lungs and fell backwards onto the floor, covering my face with my hands and spilling my beer all over me. I shrieked again but then cut myself short. Even in the complete darkness of the forest I could make out that the stocky silhouette belonged to my stepdad.

He stood over me for a couple of seconds, eerie shadows from the trees being cast over his face. It looked kind of creepy, but I was just so happy to see him and not be lost any more that it didn’t register with me. I scrambled to my feet and lunged towards him, wrapping my arms around his huge frame and squeezing him tight.

He was stiff and rigid at first, but then he relaxed and bent his arms at the elbow, pressing his palms against the top of my back and drawing me in even tighter.

“I’m so glad you’re here” I gasped, clearly struggling for breath “I didn’t know where I was – I was stumbling through the trees and didn’t have a clue where I was going, and I knew you and mom would be worried, and I’m sorry that I went off on my own, and I’m sorry that I took your beer, it’s just that I needed some time to myself and...”

My voice trailed off as I noticed something strange about my stepdad. He was looking down at me with an expression that encapsulated anger, mild amusement and something else. Something that made my stomach lurch ever so slightly. I let go of him but he still kept me close, holding me tightly in a strange embrace. It was at that moment that I noticed something hard pressing into my lower stomach. And it was coming from my stepdad’s pants.