*The characters in this story are both over 18 and although there is reluctance and S&M, both are fully consenting.*
*
Hal sat at the kitchen table, a pile of unopened mail in front of him. He'd been sitting there for ten minutes now and he knew he needed to go through the rest of it. A couple of the envelopes even had fairly threatening red print reading "Final Notice" on them. But he was too absorbed by the single heavy sheet he held in his hands to even pay attention to them. For the first time in months, money wasn't the only thing on his mind.
He sighed heavily as he read over the report card yet again and then the handwritten note from Lucy's guidance counselor at the bottom. "Mr. Moore," it read, "I realize that Lucy has been going through some hard times with her mother gone, but I'm concerned that this may result in a change of status on her college acceptance for next year. Mrs. S."
Looking over each quarter's grades, Hal couldn't help thinking that Mrs. S. could very well be right. Lucy's mother, a private government contractor, had left for Iraq in September. Lucy had been withdrawn and depressed for a while, but she seemed to pull out of it and had kept her grades in the A and B range. The second quarter had seen B's and C's with only one A, but Hal hadn't thought much of it at the time. He had figured that after getting her early acceptance to college, Lucy was just getting lazy and blowing off some steam. But he couldn't ignore this. She had failed two classes this quarter and her highest grade was a C-. This wasn't just senioritis or even having her mother gone for her eighteenth birthday. It was clear that something was going on.
Hal suspected the drop in grades had something to do with her taking up with an older guy. Dave was twenty and Hal could tell he was on the path of a lifetime loser. He chuckled bitterly to himself in the quiet kitchen. If anyone was qualified to judge a lifetime loser, it was Hal Moore. He wished his wife Molly was there. The problem was that Hal really had no idea how to deal with a boyfriend issue. By the time he had married Molly, Lucy was twelve and she and her mom had already had "the talk." And he didn't have any kids of his own, so becoming a step-father to a teenager had been a little like getting shipwrecked on an island populated with cannibals. He smiled and talked softly and hoped he didn't get his head bitten off. Disciplining Lucy was Molly's job. He had trod lightly since she left, but he was obviously going to have to put his foot down.
He was still sitting there fifteen minutes later when a glare of light on the ceiling and the crunch of tires on gravel told him that Lucy was home. He looked out the window at the beat up red coupe. He couldn't see Dave or Lucy through the light reflecting off the windshield, but considering how long it was taking her to come inside, he could certainly guess what they were up to. Finally his step daughter emerged from the car, only to immediately lean back into the window for another kiss. Although the April day was cool, she wore a miniskirt and tank top, her jacket slung over her arm. The way she leaned into the car, it was obvious that she was treating Dave to quite the view. Not to mention the entire neighborhood, Hal thought angrily as he noted the way her skirt barely covered her ass when she was bent over. He scowled out the window and went back to his place at the table. In a few minutes, he heard her light steps coming up the stairs.
She didn't notice her stepfather right away, so he took a moment to evaluate her appearance. Her long brown hair was tangled, her lips red and swollen. Her tank top was pulled low, revealing the top of her bra and an expanse of creamy flesh. Her skirt was slightly askew and her face was flushed. Hal felt heat rising in his own face. She was lust and desire personified. Had they been fucking in broad daylight right in his driveway? She smiled when she saw Hal and came into the kitchen before she noticed that he was holding her report card. Her face fell.
"Sit down, Lucy," he said quietly. She did and as she leaned forward to drop her bag, Hal noticed that her stiff nipples were pressing through the thin fabric of her bra and shirt. He crossed his legs to mask the sudden rush of arousal he felt, telling himself that it was just that he was missing his wife. "Do you want to tell me what this is about?" He held the report card out to her.
"It's a report card," she replied sullenly.
"I can see that. What I'm wondering is how you managed to go from A's and B's to failing in a matter of less than six months, Lucy. Mrs. Sandolinsky thinks you're going to lose your place at Wofford because of this." Lucy said nothing and just stared at the table. "Does this have anything to do with the time you're spending with Dave?"
Now she glared at him. "Stop trying to act like a father," she hissed. "It's none of your damn business what I do, Hal." She jumped to her feet.
"It is my damn business if you're throwing away your future on a loser like that!" he retorted, rising as well.
"You're one to talk about being a loser!" She stomped out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Hal sighed, feeling the fight go out of him. He followed her up to her room, relieved to find her door unlocked. He opened it without knocking and was greeted with a scowl. "Get out," she growled.
His voice was soft when he spoke. "You're right," he said. "I am a loser. Do you really think I don't know it? Do you think I like the fact that your mother has to go eight thousand miles just for us to keep a roof over our heads? Is that what you want out of your life? What do you think will happen with him? He'll knock you up and be out the door so fast you won't know what hit you." When she didn't say anything he went on. "You're not going out tonight. You're going to stay right here and do the extra credit work that I know you have. Don't even bother telling me how unfair it is," he said when she opened her mouth to give an outraged reply. "Life isn't fair." He walked out without waiting for a response and closed the door gently behind him. He hoped it would be enough, but somehow he didn't think so.
Hal didn't see Lucy for the rest of the evening. He knocked on her door to tell her that dinner was ready, but all he got for an answer was a thud against the other side of the door that he suspected was a large stuffed animal. He rattled the doorknob and found that it was now locked. He sighed and went back down to the kitchen for his solitary meatloaf.
A few hours later, when he went upstairs to bed, Hal hesitated outside Lucy's bedroom. It was quiet and that worried him. Normally Lucy played music at all hours of the day and night and fell asleep with it on. He or Molly usually had to go in and turn it off. Well, mostly just him these days. He pressed his ear to the door, straining to hear any movement, thinking that perhaps she just had headphones on, but there was nothing. No clicking on her keyboard or flick of pages or even her soft snoring. He tried the knob, which was just as locked as it had been at dinner. His suspicion growing, he got down on his hands and knees and pressed his face to the floor. Through the narrow crack he could see a dim light, probably from her desk, but no shadows, no movement.
"That brat!" he growled. "That little whore!" Hal stomped down the stairs to the junk drawer in the kitchen and pulled out a screwdriver. He was good with his hands and the locks on the doors inside the house weren't the kind meant to stop anyone that really wanted to get in. He jammed it into the hole in the knob and popped the lock in a matter of moments.
Lucy's bedroom was empty. The desk lamp was on, but the screen of her laptop was dark and her bed was still made. A cold breeze stirred the curtains and Hal saw that she'd left the window open a crack, probably to make it easier to get back in later. The roof of the back porch sloped away from the house here, making an easy way out for an athletic girl like Lucy. She probably wouldn't even struggle to get up there, thanks to the railings on the porch that would give her a good leg up.
Hal sat down heavily on the bed and pressed his hands against his forehead. He'd given her every chance to do the right thing. He hadn't come down too hard on her and he'd never tried to be some kind of dictator. As he sat there brooding, letting his anger fill him up, he heard the rustle of footsteps in the overlong grass of the backyard. Lucy was back. He wondered how many times she'd snuck out this way. Clearly she had some experience at it, since he hadn't heard a car or the slam of the door. Dave must have parked a good distance away. He listened hard. She was climbing onto the railing now. Hal heard the scrape of her clothes on the edge of the roof as she levered herself up. He couldn't let her make a fool of him this way. He crept to the door, careful to stay out of view of the window. He shut the door with barely a click and leaned against it, waiting.
Lucy appeared through the dark glass of the window. She slipped her fingers beneath the window and pushed it up as softly as she could. She wasn't looking around as she dropped one long leg over the sill to the ground. The movement pulled her already short skirt further up her hip. Hal felt his breath quicken at the sight, the lamp light gleaming on the creamy smooth flesh, the soft curve of her bare ass. He caught a flash of a red thong between her parted thighs. As she ducked her head and shoulders through the window, shadows deepened the look of her cleavage. It looked like she was wearing a matching bra.
As she turned around and pushed the window softly closed, Hal crossed the room in two large strides to grab her tightly by the arms. "Have a nice night out?" he hissed in her ear. He spun her around so that she had no choice but to meet his eyes.
"Hal," she said is a falsely bright voice, "I, um, just went out for a, um, a midnight snack." It was a pathetic lie and they both knew it. Hal felt his anger rising. He released her arms and brought his hand hard against her face. The force of the blow knocked her against the desk. Hal watched her, rage still coursing through his body. But not just rage. He felt power too, as Lucy looked up at him with such shock and fear plain on her pretty face, the red imprint of his hand bright on her soft cheek.
