|
HITCHHIKER [ part 2 ] “Don’t cry Daddy John.” I realised that Amanda was back in my lap and had her arms around my neck and was hugging me. I wiped the tears from my face and tried to smile at her. “I’m sorry Amanda, it’s just that I miss my daughter so much.” I managed to say after I’d pulled myself together. She rested her head down on my chest, “I know daddy John, I miss mummy so much.” She said. We sat in silence for a few minutes when I heard a noise from her stomach, she giggled. “Sorry!” she said. “When did you last eat anything?” I asked her, but she just shook her head. “Okay then I’ll start cooking something and I think you’d better wash yourself. I gave her directions to my bathroom, (upstairs, third door on the left), and looked in the fridge for food. Found some rashers of bacon, sausages and eggs. And started to fry the mess in my only frying pan. A scream from upstairs made me drop the pan and start running up to where Amanda was running from the bathroom, she was completely soaked in water. “What happened?” I asked her. I turned on the faucet and it sprayed me with cold water!” She said sobbing. I held onto her, I didn’t really understand what she meant so I gently took her back to the bathroom and asked her to show me, she pointed to the cold tap and went to turn it on. I stopped her. “Okay I see now, look you’d better take those clothes off and I’ll get them dry.” She nodded and started to unzip her skirt, dropping it to the floor before I could stop her. “Err, Amanda, don’t you think I’d better leave while you’re doing that?” I asked her. “But you’re my daddy at the moment, so there’s nothing wrong!” She said and started to undo her blouse, shrugging it off revealing a vest beneath it, also wet. I couldn’t understand how she could have got so damp . . . then I saw the shower was dripping away. And then I notice the wet shoe prints leading from the shower to the door. I didn’t say anything at that time, she wanted something from me . . . I didn’t know what, but it was important for her, or so it seemed. So I kept quiet. At this time she was down to her panties and socks, the shoes already being removed and put to one side. She watched me as she put her thumbs on ether side of her panties and bent down to remove them. Awkwardly lifting one leg up before doing the same with the other to remove the damp garment from her. Then she sat down on the toilet to remove her socks. I won’t say the view was entrancing, I didn’t even look – honest – I just picked up the discarded clothing and took the pair of socks from her. I then handed her a towel to wrap around her body and then carried the clothing downstairs to the kitchen where my washing machine and tumble dryer were. I followed the wash codes and put the skirt, blouse and panties into the washing machine – selected quick wash and started it off, I didn’t wash the socks as I thought they’d stain the other clothes. I have learnt one thing about washing clothes! I returned my attention to the food, the eggs were starting to overcook and the sausages had split from their skins, but it wasn’t too disastrous. I managed to pull the eggs out and placed them under the hotplate to keep warm while I cooked another two, they would be for Amanda I promised myself. The rashers I was cooking under the grill and they were sizzling away merrily. The kitchen door opened to reveal Amanda, with the towel tied around her waist, a smile on her face as she smelt the food cooking. She looked around for something, “What are you after Amanda?” I asked her. “Where do you keep the plates and cutlery?” she asked me. I pointed out the cupboard and drawer and she went to them and picked out two plates and two sets of knives and forks. Taking them to the table and placing them there. I finished cooking her eggs and checked the rashers were ready to eat, then taking the plates from the table I dished up the meal, placing the food back onto the table. “Can I have some milk please?” Amanda asked. I took out the plastic 2 pint container and grabbed a glass, poured the contents of one into the other, I was going to need some more milk soon – along with more food! Amanda quickly cleared her plate and was reaching for the glass when she tipped it over, spilling the milk over the table. “Oh no!” She exclaimed and started to pull her towel off to start mopping up the milk. I quickly got some kitchen paper and was using that to surround and herd the liquid as it absorbed the milk. I looked at Amanda closely. “I think you’re being clumsy on purpose young lady!” I said questioningly. She looked up at me a faint smile on her face, “Why do you say that daddy John?” She asked me. I looked at her standing there naked in front of me, this time I took the whole of her body in my glance, her face with a mass of small freckles surrounded by light brown hair, a slender neck leading to her chest with the small breast-buds pointing towards me. I gazed down to her hips noting the hairless slit between her legs. “Let’s see . . . you use the shower to soak yourself, so that you’d have to get naked. Now you’ve tipped over the milk, just so you can use the towel to wipe up the mess . . . which means you’re naked again. So, young lady, just what are you trying to do to me?” I said. “Daddy John! That’s a horrid thing to say!” Amanda said . . . but she didn’t say I was wrong! “Yes it is, isn’t it? But that is what happened wasn’t it?” I persisted She hung her head and nodded. . . then she raised her head slightly so that she could watch me slyly. “So what should I do with you?” I asked her. “Well . . . mummy would spank me if I was too naughty . . . that was after she’d tied me up of course.” She said quietly. “Your mother would tie you up? But why?” I was surprised at her words. “Oh I liked it, it was a game we’d play, mummy would tie me up and if I could get free then she wouldn’t spank me, if I couldn’t then she’d tell me I wasn’t trying and I’d get more spanks.” She was looking at me now and her eyes were sparkling. I had an idea, “You liked being spanked didn’t you?” I asked her – she nodded, “And sometimes you would stay tied up just to be spanked, and other things?” I asked her. She smiled dreamily, “Yes, mummy would spank me and then rub me, I liked being rubbed.” She said. I reached out to her and pulled to me. “Why do you want me to spank you?” I asked her. “Because I was naughty, and I like you! Mummy said that I should trust myself and my feelings. You’re not like daddy, he didn’t understand what I liked, but you do. And you miss your daughter so much! If she was naughty what would you do to her?” Amanda was watching my face as she said this last. Yes, what would I have done if Margaret had been naughty? I smiled slightly as I pulled Amanda over my lap and gave her three smacks with my hand, not hard ones, but enough to let her know she’d been hit. Then, I couldn’t help it, I rubbed her smooth skin, feeling the softness of her body, she squirmed beneath my hand and said, “No, not there!” I suddenly stopped scared that I was frightening her but then she said, “turn me over and then rub me!” “Do you know what you’re asking me to do?” I said, slightly scared – whether at the fact that she did or that I wanted to, I don’t know. “Please daddy John, I want to feel you!” She said, while trying to turn her body. I relented and allowed her to adjust herself so that I was now resting my hand on her tummy. “Please daddy John.” She said sweetly, I moved my hand up and touched her breasts, rubbing them and feeling them start to harden under my touch. Realisation struck me and I pulled my hand away as if it’d been burnt. “I’m sorry Amanda, I shouldn’t have done that.” I put her on her feet in front of me. “It’s wrong of me to do that.” “But daddy John! I wanted you to touch me. It wasn’t wrong.” She protested. I held her lightly, “It’s illegal, and its child abuse, even when you ask me to do it.” I told her. She cocked her head, “Well that’s daft! It’s not like that at home, at least there we know we’re loved and safe!” “Even when you’re being punished?” I must admit this was interesting me. “Of course! How else can we know that we’re loved!” She said in a matter of fact tone. “Do you enjoy being tied up?” I asked her “Oh yes, mummy would tie me up and then rub me until I felt really good” She folded her arms behind her and looked at me coyly again, “Would you do that for me daddy John?” She asked me. I was in a quandary, part of me wanted to do it, but then another – more rational part – was saying ‘don’t do it!’ But I was looking into Amanda’s eyes and could see the pleading that was in them. “Stay here!” I said firmly and went into the garage . . . I knew I had some. . . somewhere . . . found it! A long coil of washing line, not the plasticized stuff, so it was really about 200 ft of rope. I returned to Amanda and showed her the rope, she checked it over and pronounced it as okay to use. She then instructed me in cutting the rope into lengths – which left a very long piece left over. The noise of the washing spinning made me wait so that I could move her damp clothes into the tumble dryer to dry off. “Where would you like to be tied?” I asked her. “How about your bedroom?” Amanda said smiling at me, happy that she had won. I took her hand and we walked upstairs. I opened my bedroom door. “Sheesh! It’s a trash heap in here!” She said wrinkling up her nose. “Well . . . I live alone, so there’s no need for me to waste time cleaning up after myself. I take it that madam doesn’t agree with her choice,” Amanda shook her head, “Well there’s always room number two!” I said in my best game show host voice. Now I hadn’t been in this room for years. To be honest I didn’t want to enter it now, but somehow with Amanda I had the courage to enter Wendy’s room. It was dusty, and there were cobwebs, not as bad as I’d expected, the bedclothes, however, were another matter, six years of . . . well no use I suppose, meant that as I moved the bedspread it ripped in my hands. “Who’s room is this?” Amanda asked, taking in the dolls sitting on the dressing table and the overall pinkness of the room. “Wendy’s, I’ve never been in here since she was taken from me by her mother.” I said sadly. “You loved her didn’t you? Did she want to leave you?” Amanda asked me . . . I could still see the tearful face of Wendy as my wife dragged her away to the car, hear her voice as she screamed to stay with her daddy, and the voice of that bitch of a woman saying ‘come on you brat, let’s leave the worthless thing behind!’ I was brought back to the present by the touch of Amanda’s hand on mine, “Don’t be sad daddy John!” She said to me as if sensing my mood. I smiled at her sadly, “It’s alright Wendy, Amanda” I quickly corrected myself, “It was just a memory” She hugged my waist, but didn’t say anything more. We spent a few minutes removing the cobwebs and the ruined sheet from the bed. “Leave the mattress, it’ll be better like that!” She said as she placed herself face down on the mattress with her hand folded behind her. I took some of the rope and lashed her wrists together, somehow she managed to bring her elbows close to each other and said, “Them too!” “I should have gagged you first!” I said as I quickly followed her lead, hearing her squeal in pain I stopped and looked at her face. She smiled, “Gotcha!” She said and kicked her feet. “Why you. . .” I said in my best Homer Simpson impression as I crossed her ankles and then tied them up. I then reached her knees, which I tickled unmercifully just to hear her laugh, then I tied her legs closed. Taking a longer piece of rope I which I tied to the piece holding her ankles and then wrapped it around the one attached to her wrists, making a hogtie of it. Finally I took the longest piece of rope and wrapped it around her chest, brought an end down between her legs and then behind her back and tied it tight, so that any movement she made would pull the rope tight along her body. I did remember a television programme about erotic knot tying, making a brassier from rope, but to be honest there wasn’t that much to surround on Amanda. I’d just finished tying it off when there was a ring on the front door bell, I looked out of the window to the ground below. I could see the top of a white car with large black numbers on it along with a blue light. I turned to Amanda. “It’s the police!” I said. |