His Little Runaway (11 page)

Wes finally left, closing the door behind him. Ashley sat up only a few moments later, wondering why she felt restless now—wondering why she felt like Wes should have tried harder to get her up, when she had just a few moments ago felt a flash of anger at him for telling her she had to rise and shine. She heard the door of the cabin close: daddy going to his workshop.
Wes
going to his workshop, Ashley corrected herself as she padded to the bathroom, feeling her face get hot at the memory of what had happened there the previous day.

At the idea of what he had said he would do today, where that pleasantly sore region down below was concerned.

She found her breakfast—eggs, bacon, and buttered toast—on the table, covered with another plate. Next to it was a note that made Ashley smile.

I can’t wait to see my little girl again. Have a wonderful day! Daddy

Once she’d had breakfast, she surveyed the dishes. There weren’t many of them, and Wes had put hot water in the frying pan to soak the egg off, but when she put the plates and cups in the sink it just looked like there were too many to wash, so she decided to take her shower and face them when she felt a little cleaner herself.

In the shower, of course, Ashley couldn’t help thinking of the way Wes had talked about shaving her between her legs. She washed herself there self-consciously. Did she really feel more open, where a Navy SEAL who called himself her daddy had thrust in and out, had fucked her twice in a manner that seemed in her memory now so commanding and shameful, making her keep her face to the bed as he rode her in pursuit of his own pleasure? Where he had proven that he knew how to force Ashley’s own pleasure upon her, until she screamed with it and came over and over, sobbing for it to end even as she felt desperate for more?

And she wasn’t allowed to touch herself there without permission, now, was she? Ashley found that at the thought of what Wes had done with his cock and his hands and the little pink plug she had started to move her fingers fretfully among the curls Wes had said he would take away, so that she made little whining sounds in her chest. The warm water just felt so good, and her fingers there, soothing the soreness, so delicious.

Guiltily, though, she pulled her hand away and finished her shower, washing between her bottom-cheeks with only the slightest exploration of whether the plug had changed her at all. She blushed anew when she realized that she could open to her finger now, but when the wicked thought occurred that maybe her daddy would want her to wash herself inside her bottom, now that he planned to enter her there with his penis, she pushed it firmly away, rinsed herself off, and turned the tap to end the shower and force herself to get on with the day.

She realized as she stepped back toward the bedroom, clad in a towel, that she hadn’t washed her panties. But Wes had washed them the previous night, right? And she hadn’t even worn them very much the day before. He wouldn’t notice. She pulled them on, then her jeans and the t-shirt and hoodie from the day before.

On the counter she found another note, a to-do list.

Little Ashley’s Chores

Make bed

Dishes

Sweeping (broom in kitchen closet)

Clean bathroom (supplies under sink)

Smile for daddy

There was a little heart after
Smile for daddy
. Ashley did smile, but then she felt foolish. She looked again at the dishes in the sink. Didn’t Wes know that she hated doing dishes? That yucky feeling of the dirty water, and the bits of food in it—even the thought of it made her tummy revolt. How could he make her do something she hated that much? Real people had dishwashers: real people put the plates in, pushed the button, and then they took the shiny dishes out of the machine.

Making the bed didn’t present a problem, though. She went to do that, and then she didn’t even look at the sink as she went to get the broom. She swept the living room slowly, but she tried to do a good job, and the amount of dust she collected in there and in the bedroom made her feel like she had done a reasonable job.

She even cleaned the toilet, since it already looked pretty clean. She could do her chores, like Wes told her. Like daddy told her. She felt her cheeks get pink, remembering the little heart on the to-do list, and the way she had smiled at it.

She went outside, careful not to go too far up the driveway. From Wes’ workshop came the sound of a saw. Somehow in these mountainous woods the high roaring-buzzing sound, echoing through the trees, seemed like the perfect noise to make the whole scene seem perfect: the sun filtering down, the little cabin built with her daddy’s own hands, the sound of her daddy making things from the trees that would grow again here on these forested mountains. Just enough chill in the air to make it seem nice to be outside, but even nicer because Ashley had a warm cabin she could go back inside, to wait for her daddy to come in from his workshop.

The saw stopped, and suddenly Ashley remembered she hadn’t done the dishes. She stood in the trees, a little uphill from the cabin and the workshop, frozen in place. The workshop door opened. Suddenly the idea that she hated doing the dishes seemed like the stupidest thing in the world, and the thought that her daddy should have known she hated that chore and should have let her do something else instead seemed absurd.

Wes emerged, with safety-goggle marks around his eyes and a little bit of sawdust clinging to his flannel shirt. So big and so handsome. Ashley’s eyes went straight to his powerful hands.
Oh, no.

She tried to call out,
Daddy, stop. Wait! I’ll do the dishes! Just give me a second!
But the words stuck in her throat as Wes walked to the front door of the cabin, not noticing her, and opened it.

Consequences.
Ashley’s tummy flip-flopped much worse than it had at the thought of the dishes. Much, much worse. How could she have earned another punishment so quickly? She started to run toward the cabin. Maybe if she said she was sorry, and she would do the dishes right now, her daddy wouldn’t spank her.

But as she reached the door she heard him calling, “Ashley?” in his stern voice, and her heart fell. She stopped just outside the door, looking at it, feeling her eyes go wide in alarm at the thought of what his face must look like.

She almost ran away, but honestly she felt too scared even for that.

The door opened and Wes stood there, looking at her. A look of concern on his face changed to one of authority.

“You’re in big trouble, young lady,” he said grimly. “It was fine to leave the house, but you should have left a note, or come to tell me you were going outside.”

Ashley felt her brow furrow. “Sorry, daddy.” Now she felt close to tears.

“And that’s before we get to the dishes. You did a fine job with the other chores, but the sink is still full of the breakfast things. I even put that on your list.”

“I know, daddy, but…”

“But what, honey?”

“I hate doing dishes.” It sounded so lame to Ashley’s own ears that she couldn’t keep her eyes raised to his but had to lower them to his big leather work boots.

“Honey, I don’t want this to sound too harsh, but I don’t care whether you hate this or that chore. You have chores to do, and they’re not all that hard. You’re going to do them, or you’re going to be punished. And if I have to I can keep punishing you until you understand that. Go into the kitchen and do those dishes right now. Then take off your clothes, get a towel, put it on the bed, and lie on it with your knees up and spread like I showed you yesterday when I popped your cherry. I’m going to shave you before I spank you.”

“Oh, daddy, no!” The thought of the shaving had seemed bad enough when it was just a sex thing. Now that Wes had put it in the category of discipline it seemed so much more humiliating. To have her pussy bared that way before her daddy took her over his knee… she wasn’t sure she had yet blushed as hotly as she did then, thinking about it.

“And if you think that’s all, young lady, you’ve got another think coming. After your spanking, you’ll have a figging.”

“A
what
?” Ashley had not the slightest idea what Wes meant, but the word itself seemed to drip with shame.

“A ginger plug up your bottom, to keep in for an hour. You’ll help me start the sauce that way, naked except for your apron.”

The idea made Ashley feel faint. “Wh-why
ginger
?” she whispered, meeting his eyes again in her alarm. She had no experience cooking: ginger was something you put in ginger ale or, she guessed, ginger snaps. It had a
sharp
taste, right?

Wes looked back grimly, his eyes narrowing a little. “You’ll see, honey. It won’t feel as nice as the little pink plug last night.”

“What does that mean?” Ashley said, but Wes didn’t answer. Her heart started to race. “Daddy? What does that mean?”

As if at the fright in her voice and the way she had called him
daddy
, Wes’ face seemed to get softer and kinder. “It means that ginger burns a bit, honey. Not so as to harm you, or even hurt you very much, but to make you pretty uncomfortable in that cute little anus of yours. And of course to embarrass you when you think about what you did wrong and how I’m looking at a well-disciplined backside with a ginger plug sticking out, because I put it there to teach you your lesson.”

Ashley’s face got even hotter, and her eyes fell again. Almost unconsciously, she put her right hand back to the seat of her jeans as if to ward off the horrid thing. How could she bear it? And yet Wes had made her duties very clear, and also made it clear that she would be punished if she didn’t do them. Ashley had earned the consequences.

“Get going, Ashley,” Wes said sternly. “Neither of us is going to have lunch until you’ve had your spanking and your figging, and then we’ve got the sauce to start after that. I’ll go back to my workshop for fifteen minutes. When I get back, I want you naked and ready for shaving.”

Chapter Fourteen

Wes found Ashley just the way he wanted her, after he had checked to make sure she’d done the dishes. He brought the basin, filled with hot water, and several washcloths, along with the scissors he used to trim his own hair, a new disposable razor, and some soap and lotion for afterward. He was glad to see the pretty sight of a furry little pussy between raised and spread thighs, well presented to his gaze as he entered the room.

“I’m sorry, daddy,” Ashley said as he approached, before he could even see her face. “I did the dishes.”

“I saw, honey. Thank you.” He stood over her and looked down into her eyes.

She returned his gaze with a troubled brow. “Maybe… maybe you could just shave me? And then, you know, you could…” Her cheeks turned pink as she looked at him between her knees, over the sweet pussy Wes loved to see so exposed and ready for his attention.

“Fuck my little girl?” Wes asked, smiling.

Ashley bit her lip. “Or I could, you know, suck your penis? To show I’m sorry?”

He kept his smile, but shook his head. “You can’t get out of a punishment by giving your daddy pleasure, honey. And I have to make it clear to you that I’ll follow through when I discipline you. After I shave you, I’m going to spank you and fig you. You’re not getting out of it.”

Her eyes got bright with tears. She let go of her knees and her legs started to drop. “Oh, daddy! I promise to be good!”

“Get those knees up and hold them wide, Ashley,” Wes said sternly. “Don’t make this worse for yourself.”

She obeyed, but she wailed at the same time, “But daddy…”

“Hush, honey. We both know you need this. Lie back and let daddy get you nice and smooth. If you take your punishment well today, daddy will kiss his little girl’s pussy tonight and make her feel very good, as a reward.”

Ashley gave a little whimper at that, as if at the wicked thought of her daddy’s mouth on her bare privates, and didn’t finish what she had been going to say—if indeed she had had anything to say at all.

Wes pulled the wooden chair from the corner of his bedroom up to the bed. He put the basin on the floor as he sat.

“I’m going to trim your pussy hair nice and short, then I’m going to use some hot washcloths to make you nice and soft for the razor.” He didn’t wait for a reply, which in fact didn’t come except in the form of some gasping breaths from Ashley, but went to work grasping tufts of the curly reddish brown hair between her thighs and neatly trimming it off, until every bit of it longer than a millimeter lay in a cute little heap on the towel.

As he trimmed her pussy fleece with the scissors, Ashley giggled a little as it got ticklish, but she held herself obediently open. Wes felt some satisfaction as he saw that a little bit of slippery moisture seemed to have developed between the tender coral lips that peeped out just a bit from the bigger, paler ones, but he said nothing about it.

“What do I look like, daddy?” Ashley whispered.

“You look cute as a button, honey,” Wes said. “Already very neat and tidy. It would be very scratchy, though, if I didn’t shave you.”

She giggled, the punishment forgotten for a moment. “Would it be scratchy for you when you put your penis inside me?”

Wes felt himself crook a smile at the dirty talk. “Yes, but it would be even scratchier for you inside your panties.”

“Oh,” Ashley said with a little shudder. Then, as Wes put the hot washcloths in place, over her mons and down all the way to her little anus where a few naughty hairs lingered, she sighed. “Daddy, I didn’t wash my panties. I’m sorry.”

Wes chuckled. “That’s alright, honey. Thanks for telling me. You’re a good girl to confess that. You won’t need them again today, and you can wash them tonight after sex. They’ll be dry in the morning.”

A little shiver seemed to go through her at the words
after sex
, which was just the effect Wes had meant to achieve.