Chapter One

 

I was still a teenager when I met Annie's dad. Annie was one of my girlfriends at the time and we were out partying and having a good time on a Friday night. We were heading down Highway Nine in a Mustang driven by Jerry Tomlinson. He was Annie's date. I was in the back seat, half-heartedly fending off Mike Crawford's hands.

The truth is I didn't really want to fend them off, but appearances had to be maintained, you know. I mean, he hadn't earned the right to do a lot, yet, and I'd be labeled a slut if I didn't at least put up some kind of pro-forma protest.

The truth is he had very talented hands and I was getting hot. I was already high, for the four of us were sharing a joint, and we'd been drinking. The joint relaxed me to the point I didn't have very quick reactions when Jerry got his hands on me, and he was able to slide his hands way up under my skirt several times, to the point I was gasping.

We were speeding, of course, and that was when the cops noticed us and pulled us over. Naturally, once the cop got a whiff of the air in the car there was a lot more trouble than speeding. Before long the four of us were lined up alongside the car with our hands cuffed behind our backs.

I was wearing a very short skirt, and to my red-faced embarrassment, no panties, for Jerry had managed to tug my thong down and off. The cops searching the car found it, smirking at me and Annie. But she was wearing jeans so there wasn't a lot of doubt who they belonged to!

I was also wearing a tight sweater, and Jerry had gotten my bra undone, so in the coolish night air my nipples were very visible. I'm not a small girl, after all.

I was scared, and things might have gone a lot worse, but then Annie's dad showed up. He was a cop, and you know how cops are. The boys got busted. Me and Annie got to ride home in the back of her dad's squad car.

Mister Black was tall and broad shouldered, with a sort of classical square jawed face. His hair was cut very short, and in his uniform he looked... well, very authoritarian! He dropped me off at my house, though of course, he walked me to the door, that big, strong hand on my arm, and didn't let go until my dad was there and they were discussing my failings.

I got grounded, needless to say, but at least I hadn't gotten busted. Annie got grounded even longer, so we couldn't even talk except over the phone for more than a month. She complained bitterly all that time about her father's punishment, though to me I thought it was as normal as the sun rising in the east. We'd screwed up and we were being punished. I wasn't indignant about that.

"He's always been an asshole," she growled. "He used to spank me until I cried and make me kneel in the corner to think about my mistakes."

I felt a jolt at those words. My parents had never believed in spanking or any other kind of corporal punishment. At first I felt sympathy and outrage on her behalf.

Did he spank her on her bare bottom? Did she have to kneel like that in the corner? I remembered how big, powerful, unstoppably masculine her dad had seemed, and then, somehow, I had this vision of him punishing me that way!

I wasn't any innocent child, of course. Being spanked by a guy was, to me, a darkly kinky and erotic fantasy. Now I had a man to go with that fantasy. And the first time I let that fantasy play out in my mind in the shower I had a devastating orgasm that almost collapsed my legs under me!

The difference between Annie's father and the guys I dated was like ... well, the difference between a boy and a man. True, the guys I was dating were, technically and legally men. But they were slender, shorter, wimpier, less aggressive, less... everything, than Mister Black.

I had just started working evenings at Al's coffee shop, which was right on the edge of the college campus, and it was filled with college men every day. Or at least, they called themselves men. Compared to the deep voiced, stern looking Mister Black, they were boys, with crude, snickering sexual jokes and taunts and come-ons that made me roll my eyes in pity most of the time.

There was also no comparison between Mister Black and my own dad, who was a short, chubby accountant. He wasn't in the same age range, either. He and his girlfriend had had Annie when he was twenty one. My dad and mom had me when they were almost in their mid-thirties. My dad is in his fifties now while Annie's dad was still in his thirties. No comparison at all!

That I'd been wearing handcuffs when I'd met him, and braless, played a part in my fantasies, too, for he certainly would have noticed. And the other cops probably would have told him about my thong, though he hadn't mentioned it.

He probably thought I was a slut! But if I was a bad girl, what did you do with bad girls? Spank them, maybe? I couldn't stop thinking about that, and about him, and that night! I sure as hell wasn't going to talk to Annie about it, but I did kind of pump her for information, trying to be as casual as possible.

"So like... do you have any idea what happened to my thong?" I asked.

She laughed. "No idea."

"I saw that cop holding it up," I said.

"Yeah, so did I."

"Do you think they told your dad?"

"Probably. I'm glad I was wearing jeans."

"Shit. He must think I'm some kind of slut! Has he mentioned me? Like, saying anything about not seeing me again?"

"He doesn't blame you. He blames Jerry, and me."

"Do you think he told my dad about that?"

"Uhm, that I can't say. Probably not. I mean, it's kind of hard to tell someone's dad you found his daughter with her thong on the floor of a car."

I winced at the thought!

"At least he took off your cuffs and let you fix your bra," she said with a giggle.

I blushed at the memory, even though I felt a thrumming heat between my legs at the same time.

If Annie had any idea the kind of nasty fantasies I'd had about her dad lately she'd never speak to me again!

"That's the first time I ever wore handcuffs," I said lightly.

"Ha! I bet Mike would love to put handcuffs on you!"

"God, that guy is like an octopus! He's the one who needs handcuffs!" I said.

"What fun would that be?"

"Slut!"

"Whore!"

We both laughed.

Over the following months I managed to get as much information about her dad as I could. And when I was finally allowed to come over again I was elated to find his schedule posted on the wall of their kitchen. He worked rotating shifts, you see, so everyone had to keep track of when he was working, which shift he was working, and when he was off.

I also ran into Mrs. Black, which left me feeling guilty, though she was kind of uhm, cool and flinty eyed, and not exactly a friendly woman. Annie said she and her father argued all the time.

"I don't know why they don't just divorce," she complained in a surly voice. "I'm sick of hearing them bitching at each other."