18 HEATHER: Dad Is Punishing Me

Looking over my shoulder, I see the door is tightly close so I turn to the box again. With suddenly trembling hands, I open the lid and gasp. Oh, my God! I snatch the box and bring it to bed and sit.

"I steal your panties and use them to jack off my cock in my bedroom."

Brand's admission last night rings in my head. And here is a box of evidence overflowing with my panties. My chest hurts at the wild thumping of my heart. They're not even the new ones. They're the soiled ones I threw in the hamper. No wonder he keeps buying me more. More underwear. They're not for me but for himself!

I gingerly touch one of it and cringe. The material is crisp like it's been used to wipe some suspicious goo that hardens the soft silk. He's cum on my panties. My nipples suddenly harden and my pussy clenches. Dad is right. He's been really bad.

Sealing the box, I return it in his closet and pull one of his shirts to put it over my head. With tiny slow steps, I descend to the kitchen when I don't find him in the living room. The silence of the house makes me feel unease.

When I stumble into the kitchen, food is already set on the table covered with a stainless dome. I open it with a smile because dad is always thoughtful about me. But together with the food, a brown envelope and a letter sit on the table as well. I pick it up and read.

"Heather,

In the envelope are your papers and keys to your newly overhauled car. Get everything you need from the house. In fact, I don't want any trace of you left in my place. I don't want to see you go. So I'm giving you enough time to clean up everything. I won't give you money to start up your new life. I won't support your college anymore and most specially not going to set up a dorm or an apartment for you. You want to be independent, do it your way. Don't tell me where you're going. I'm changing my number so don't try calling me. If you leave, do it as if we never meet at all.

Your bad daddy,

Brand."

I drop the letter and suddenly laugh so hard I have to clutch my tummy. I'm aware this is my reaction because I'm hysterical. Then I cry so hard my chest aches, my shoulders quake in waves. And I laugh once more. Shit! I'm going crazy!

I still eat the cold breakfast Brand prepared for me all the while crying and laughing at the same time. My face is wet, my nose is running and my throat is clogged up with mucus and hiccups. I return to Brand's bedroom and cry once more until I pass out.

When I stir awake once again, it's getting dark outside. My heart is so heavy and I feel the urge to cry once again but I stop myself. No use of doing it. Nothing will change by my tears. So I start thinking instead.

It's obvious dad is punishing me. He won't support my college and not going to set up a place for me to stay. He doesn't want to see me go and doesn't want any trace of me in his house. I wonder if I should take the box of panties he stole from me. They're mine, after all.

I sigh and laugh once again. This time, it's not a going-crazy-kind of laugh. I laugh because I just realize my dad is doing this because he actually doesn't want me to go. Brand cares for me so much that he's making me choose to take him or leave him. In his twisted way, he's doing this to make me stay.

I stand up and walk to my bedroom. I know it's already getting dark outside but I just shrug and start packing up my things. The sooner I start, the faster I finish sweeping up the place.