Bad Heather
Chapter 4

Copyright© 2014 by Tx Tall Tales

Incest Sex Story: Chapter 4 - Heather's a Bad Girl. Everyone says so. Her father's given up on her after years of her mother's interference. When Mom travels to New York for several weeks of business, and a recently laid off Dad is stuck home with his rebellious teen for the summer, he knew things had to change. There was only one way to deal with girls like Heather. Bad girls get punished. Things were about to change. In a BIG way.

Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Teenagers   Consensual   Reluctant   Heterosexual   Fiction   Cheating   Incest   Father   Daughter   Spanking   First   Oral Sex   Slow  

When he got back from his morning meeting, he headed for his bedroom and changed out of his suit into sweats and a t-shirt. He was riding high on excitement and adrenaline. The interview had gone so well, he had half expected them to offer him the position on the spot. He would report to Martha Abbot, the congressman's aide, but she insisted he have a meeting with the congressman himself, when he was in town the following week.

Harold headed to his study to compose a thank-you letter for the meeting, and heard the voices of Heather and her young friend coming from the backyard.

While the girls frolicked in the pool, Harold watched them from the window of his study. He found himself continuously dreaming of bending them over his knee, while they took turns being punished. He pictured their sweet young asses, barely encased in their bikinis, quivering with each blow. In his dreams they fought over who would be spanked first. He'd lower their bikini bottoms and expose those tight little butt cheeks, before turning them pink. Of course he'd noticed how attractive they both were in the past, but never before thoughts like these. Shaking his head, he powered up his computer and started his letter.


"I thought you'd be grounded for the rest of the summer," Lynn remarked, as she stretched out on the lounge chair for some sun.

"I'm working it out. I think I should be out of the doghouse pretty soon." Heather said, drying herself off before laying out.

"That would be pretty amazing. How's that possible?" Lynn asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

"The old fart has a thing for spanking schoolgirls. You should see the stuff he looks at on his computer."

That got Lynn's full attention. "You're shitting me!"

"Not a bit. What's with these dirty old men? Can you believe it? Both our fathers. Is it some kind of suburban epidemic?" Heather laughed.

"So he's spanking you now?" Lynn asked

"Just once so far. I hinted at your getting it too."

"Heather! Please, tell me that you're kidding!"

"Nope. You inspired me." Heather laughed, stretching out, absorbing the sun.

"Jesus, Heather! You didn't say anything about Jeff spanking me, did you?"

Heather sighed. "I had to do something."

"Fuck! I'm dead." Lynn groaned.

"Oh, come on. He's not going to say anything, especially not now that he's doing the same thing. And you told me how after you got yours, he felt so bad he finally bought you that sweet car," Heather said.

Lynn was quiet. "Heather. I didn't tell you everything. He's been looking for reasons to spank me. It's like every other day now, for any stupid little thing, and they're getting a little out of hand."

Heather turned on her side and looked over at her friend. "How's that?"

"He expects me to be bare-assed when he does it, and he's been touching me during and after," Lynn confessed. "Touching me a lot."

"Oh my God, Lynn! Did you tell your Mom?"

Lynn just looked at her. "I don't want to." She hurriedly added, "He treats me so good now, buys me anything I want. I could get away with murder, and it would only earn me another hot whipping."

Heather looked at her friend in amazement. "Wow! Do you like it?"

Lynn looked almost in tears. "I hate it." She heaved a big sigh. "I love it."

"Shit. Which one is it?"

"I hate that I love it."


Lynn had just left, and Harold was writing out three checks and closing the envelopes when he heard a crash from the kitchen.

"You Ok, honey?" he called downstairs.

"Just a minute, Dad."

He heard the noise of cleaning up and went to look in on his only child. She was bending over, cleaning up a broken plate. She was still wearing her bathing suit, demurely hidden under a nice cover-up, which was almost covering her head as she bent over. Her bikini was stretched tight across her tail, exposing those succulent teenage cheeks.

 
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