His Little Runaway (13 page)

Then he said, “Here it comes, honey. Get ready. You’re going to swallow daddy’s seed now.” He held himself in deep and she felt his hard penis pulse, and the stuff came out. It was a little bitter and very thick, but when she had been a good girl and swallowed it all, Wes said, “Thank you, honey” as he pulled his penis out.

“You’re welcome, daddy,” Ashley whispered.

“Go on into the bedroom now and do what I told you, please. It’ll be a little while before I’m ready to fuck you, now that I’ve come in your mouth, but you were such a good girl that I’m going to give you your reward before that, instead of after.”

Ashley felt her face go red at this news. He had said that thing about
kissing
her down there, which seemed like it might be the most embarrassing thing in the world. More embarrassing than kneeling in the kitchen to suck his penis; more embarrassing even than having a piece of ginger in her bottom. Of course it also seemed like the thing that might feel better than anything else in the world, too—but that almost made it more embarrassing, at the thought of how she would squirm and writhe with the pleasure her daddy made her feel.

Wes made her wait, thinking about it over the pillows, for at least five minutes, with the ache building and building between her spread legs, where she could feel the air shamefully moving—not letting her forget that she wore nothing but an apron and that her pussy had been shaved, and that her daddy had made her lie down like this to wait for him to kiss her in the naughtiest way possible.

Then she heard his step, and he said from very close behind her, “I’m so glad I shaved you, honey. It’s such a pretty pussy, and now I can see how sweet and naughty you are down there.” She felt his weight descend on the bed, between her legs. The thought that he now looked at her most private places at such close range, while she herself must look at the blue comforter, seemed even more wicked than it had felt that morning to hold herself open while he shaved her.

“Your pussy looks very wet, young lady.”

“Yes, daddy.” She felt a tiny thrill at having to admit to the naughty way he made her feel.

Then she felt what could only be the tip of his tongue, flicking gently against her clit, and the pleasure shot through her body so forcefully that she let out a cry of pure pleasure that sounded like one of agony. Her daddy’s tongue flicked and licked, and the lightning of ecstasy did make her writhe over the pillows, lewdly presenting herself for more of his attention. She cried out over and over.

Wes stopped for a moment, and she heard him chuckle. “Hold still, honey,” he said with mock severity. “Daddy can hardly kiss you where he wants, you’re squirming so much.”

“I’ll try, daddy,” Ashley said, the heat coming again into her face. She did try, and the struggle to hold still seemed to add to the strength of the pleasure in her sinews. She came, and then she came again, hardly knowing whether she wanted any more of it but loving Wes for not giving her a choice in the matter.

Then he stopped, though, and said. “You got your daddy hard again, honey, with all that wriggling and those cute noises. Daddy’s sorry, but he’s going to fuck you for a long time now, because he already came in your mouth in the kitchen.”

And then he did, without speaking further: he got on the bed and fucked her pussy from behind, while she wore her apron and she said, “Oh, daddy” and “Please, daddy.”

Then he put the slippery stuff on and in her bottom, and she had to push so that her daddy could have anal sex with her. She felt so full of cock that it took her breath away, but her anus also still itched and burned from the ginger. Somehow it felt so very right to be fucked there, after her figging, that though she could tell she would be very sore because of how hard Wes thrust, surging in and out with abandon in search of his release, it still somehow felt good.

“Such a nice bottom to pound, honey,” he murmured as he came closer and closer, his own voice thick now with his exertions inside her. “So nice to have you like this.”

And then her daddy came in Ashley’s bottom with a shout, pushing in all the way until she thought she might faint with all the sensation. He held himself there for a long moment, and then he said, “Thank you, honey. That felt so good.”

“Thank you, daddy,” Ashley replied, suddenly having the urge to say something wicked. “I want to be your good little girl with my bottom and my pussy and my mouth, and make your cock feel good.”

Wes laughed. “You’re doing a very good job so far,” he said, pulling slowly and gently out, and kissing her on each bottom-cheek, so that she giggled and blushed.

Chapter Sixteen

Late that night, while Ashley washed her panties in the sink—a task of which he was very happy to remind her so that he could watch her face get red yet again—Wes walked up the driveway to check on his phone whether he could find anything in the news about her escape.

None of the several stories he found about Tall Oaks concerned Ashley, though. Or, although Ashley’s escape was mentioned, they didn’t name her, and they didn’t focus on her.

Rather, they concentrated on an investigation the state attorney general had opened into the process by which the correctional services corporation that currently ran Tall Oaks had obtained the contract, and possible abuses inside the facility. Wes wondered what part if any Ashley’s parents had had in shifting the focus of law enforcement’s interests so quickly. In the third story he read, he found a paragraph that read,

John Lewis, a Westchester County executive and the father of an eighteen-year-old girl who went missing from Tall Oaks on Friday, said that he hoped the investigation might uncover the reasons his daughter was allowed to escape. “All we want, though, is to have our daughter back, and to make sure this doesn’t happen to any other parent.”

He also wondered what in the world he should do about it. He hoped Ashley’s parents were really worried about her, but everything Wes had seen of her before he had taken her in hand seemed to indicate a family where status mattered a great deal more than affection. He had known people like that, growing up—even in the Midwest. They might not be
happy
, exactly, to send Ashley back to some other, better juvie, but if it meant they themselves came out clean as a whistle, they might very well not hesitate to sacrifice the years of their daughter’s life that she should be using to figure out who she really wanted to be, and with whom, on the altar of respectability.

Wes couldn’t take that risk.

“Did you find anything out, daddy?” Ashley asked as she snuggled into his arms, wearing again the big red t-shirt that Wes thought he would probably always remember her in, come what may.

“Mmm-hmm,” Wes hummed into her sweet-smelling chestnut hair.

“What, daddy?”

“There’s an investigation, honey. We need to figure out what you’re going to do about it.”

“Oh. What kind of investigation?” He heard the fear start to creep into her voice.

“About the facility and the company who was running it.”

“Please don’t make me…” Her voice trailed off into his bare chest.

“Don’t make you what, honey?”

She sniffled. “I don’t even know, daddy. I just… I just want to stay here with you, okay?”

Wes smiled and held her closer. Yes, he was definitely falling in love with her, if he wasn’t already there. That would pose its own challenges, but right now it just felt good to be able to say, “Okay, honey. I promise I won’t let them take you away. We’ll see what happens.”

* * *

What happened, for the next two weeks, was nothing. The story vanished from the headlines, and on both his own instinct and Ashley’s plea, Wes didn’t try to make contact with her parents.

That decision felt like the easiest one he had ever made, because he and his little girl could hardly have been happier together if they were living in a four-star hotel or a palace. The rough little cabin Wes had built with his own hands became the scene of a domestic bliss so complete and so sealed off from the rest of the world that when Wes went to the big-box store an hour away, to buy groceries and some clothes for Ashley, the trappings of civilization seemed exotic and unreal.

When he presented Ashley with her new panties, white cotton of the kind worn by little girls everywhere, she giggled and blushed. Of course it meant the end of the nightly panty-washing he had enforced on her after she had ridden her daddy’s cock like a rocking horse until he had spurted uncontrollably into her womb, or he had fucked her bottom until she begged her daddy to please come because she couldn’t bear any more of his driving cock in her little anus, as well trained as that anus had already gotten from his use of it. But it also meant that when he took down his little Ashley’s panties to play with her shaved pussy and her sweet, pert bottom, or to punish her, the underwear itself that he removed made his cock hard as an iron bar.

Ashley wasn’t spanked daily, but she did have to go over her daddy’s knee more than Wes thought she might have done if a big part of her didn’t yearn for the boundaries he set with his firm hand on her little cheeks. She never failed to do the dishes, now, but she would forget to put them away, or she would forget to get the laundry started. Or, even though Wes told her exactly when he wanted lunch every day, she wouldn’t have started it when he got in from the workshop, and would be playing a game or doing a crossword instead.

Sometimes she would sass him, too, when he asked her to do something. “In a minute!” she said several times, until he cured her of it. When she said “In a minute!” Wes simply got the straight-backed wooden chair from the kitchen and put it in the living room, while Ashley stood watching with a furrow on her brow.

“I’m sorry, daddy,” she would say. “Please, no spanking?”

“Come here, young lady. I’ve told you before that that tone is unacceptable, and your panties have to come down so that daddy can make it clear to you that good girls don’t talk to their daddies that way. This time, I’m going to make sure you can’t sit down for a day or two. You need to learn your lesson.”

“Please, no, daddy. I promise.”

“Are you going to come get over my knee, or do I need to put you there?”

That time—the last time for
in a minute!
—he did need to get her, because she tried to run to the door. Wes was quicker, though, and he marched her back to the living room, sat in the chair, and pulled her over his knee, where he summarily took down her jeans and her new white panties and began to spank her so hard that she sobbed from the very beginning.

“Please, daddy. Please, daddy,” she wailed, but Wes held her between his thighs, with his left arm over her back, and spanked her harder than he ever had before, until her whole backside was red as a tomato.

That was the end of the sass for several days, and Ashley indeed couldn’t sit for a full twenty-four hours. When the time came for sex that night, and Wes thrust into her sopping wet pussy from behind, his hips slapping hard against her well-punished bottom, she cried out much more in pleasure than in pain.

But then, just as they reached the two-week mark, the sass came back, for something as simple as passing the pepper grinder.

“Get it yourself,” she said. “Your arm is longer than mine.”

Wes looked into her eyes, and saw to his surprise that his little girl wasn’t joking; she really did mean to be bratty—really did want to push the boundaries. She had been in her new panties for four days, now, and he had been noticing a subtle shift in her behavior—she called him
daddy
a little less frequently, he thought, and she seemed a little less passionate under his hands and cock in bed.

“Tomorrow,” Wes said, “you’re going to have a switching for that disrespect.”

The color drained from Ashley’s face in the light of the setting sun that streamed onto the little table by the window.

“What? Oh, daddy, no.” All her lost respect and obedience seemed to rush back into her demeanor. “Please. Please, just a spanking. I’m sorry. I’ve… I don’t know what’s gotten into me, but… not a switching.” Wes looked at her steadily, not speaking. “I’ll… I’ll… I mean, maybe you can do the thing with the ginger again? Or…” She went from white to bright red in an instant. “Or the big black plug?” she whispered.

Wes had shown her the punishment plug a few days before, when she had protested that she didn’t want him to train her anus that night. At the sight of it Ashley had said that, yes, she would like the little pink plug very much.

“No, honey. I think I know what’s going on. Now that it looks like we’re going to be together like this for a good long while, your psyche is starting to seriously adjust, and you’re unconsciously rebelling a little. You need me to send you a message loud and clear that this is your life now: you’re a taken-in-hand little girl, whose daddy gives the discipline you need to be happy. You’ll have the punishment plug, too, but not until you’ve had a switching to teach you the meaning of real old-fashioned discipline. Tomorrow morning you’ll go out and find a green branch for me to switch you with. Then you’ll take off your clothes and lie over the chair, and I’ll whip your bare bottom the traditional way.”

Tears stood in her eyes and her nose twitched as they dropped down her cheeks. “I’m so scared, daddy.”

“You should be,” Wes said, knowing that he had to make this boundary one that would stand very tall in her memory. “A switching is a serious thing. It’s going to hurt, and you’re going to remember it. But daddy will comfort you tonight, and he’ll comfort you after your punishment. You already know in your head that it’s for your own good, honey. Afterward, you’ll feel that in your heart, too.”

While Ashley did the dishes, Wes walked up the driveway again to read his email and check the news. He had stopped expecting anything about Ashley or Tall Oaks, but to his surprise he found that the story had suddenly come back to life.