Fishing for the truth

Shaking off the feeling of dread from Gary and Brian’s stares, you look around to see where the fuck you actually are. This doesn’t look like any campsite you’ve ever seen before. There’s no signage or anything. Brian’s truck is parked off the side of a two-track dirt road with a thick band of uncut grass and wildflowers growing down the middle. Pines and firs surround you with their sharp smell, letting golden bands of sunlight reach down through the canopy as snow-capped mountains peek through from beyond. There seems to be a clearing a little ways off the road, and beyond that you think you can see sparkling blue lake water.

Already feeling a little calmer, you notice the men are ignoring you for the moment, and you breathe a sigh of relief. David is ordering his friends around, getting them to load up on gear and make their way to the clearing through the trees. In spite of yourself, you feel a small nugget of gratitude to your stepdad for keeping the other men occupied.

You follow them and keep to the edge of the clearing as they set up camp. The clearing isn’t that large, with a rough firepit in the middle that seemingly hasn’t been used since last camping season, and just enough open space around it that the three tents don’t feel crowded together. Wait, three tents? That means… You shudder and squeeze your arms, trying to suppress the frustrated arousal inside, trying to ignore the growing sense of dread. Distracting yourself by watching the men work, you can’t help but notice how effortlessly David sets up his own tent, and how he confidently instructs Brian and Gary in their work. He gives them some friendly jabs when they mess up, but always pairs it with helpful advice. His friends are laughing, focused, and before you know it they have the campsite set up and ready. You’ve never seen this side of your stepdad before, and you honestly don’t know what to make of it.

Brian opens one of the bags and pulls out a couple rods. “Gary, c’mon, I bet I can find that stream again. Grab the brewskis and let's catch some dinner!” He doesn’t wait for a response before tromping out into the woods, Gary quick on his heels carrying a case of beer under one arm. Gary looks back over his shoulder at you as he walks off, giving you a wave with his free hand and curling his lips into something like a smile. You turn away, hating the way he makes you feel, hating how your pussy tingles at the memory of his touch.

“Hey, Cola!” Your stepdad motions for you to come closer. “I got something to show you. Come here!”

His tone is jovial, just like how he talked to his friends, but you’re still on edge as you approach him. “What’s up?”

He digs in his bag and pulls out a fishing rod. “Here, carry this.” He grabs a tackle box and bucket. “Follow me!”

You watch him walk away towards the lake as you grasp the unfamiliar tool, then decide to follow him against your better judgment. The fuck else am I gonna do, stand around? Hustling a bit to catch up, you follow your stepdad through the trees and sparse ferns to the lakeshore near the campsite. There’s a little clearing near the water where he sets down the bucket and tacklebox, then turns to give you a wide smile. “Whaddya think?”

You look out over the sparkling blue water of Lake Chelan. It’s a long, narrow glacial lake, so the shore opposite you is close enough that you can easily make out individual trees, while to your left and right the water stretches out into the far distance. It’s fairly early in camping season, and David took you to a very remote spot, so you can’t see any other campers along the shore or boats on the water. It’s like you’re completely alone.

Alone, with your stepdad.

“It’s nice, I guess.” You try to keep your voice steady, but you’re afraid a tremor of nervousness is sneaking through.

“Yeah, fishing isn’t that great right here, but you can’t beat the view.” David reaches out towards the rod in your hand. “Here, let me show you what to do.”

Without a word you let him take the rod from you, and he talks you through the process of baiting the hook, setting the sinker and bobber, how to cast the line, what to do if you feel a bite, everything you’ve never wanted to know about fishing. You couldn’t give less of a shit, but you can’t help noticing how David’s eyes light up as he’s talking, how confidently he handles the equipment, and his obvious passion and experience start to take the edge off your anxiety and dread. If you didn’t know any better, you could almost say you were interested in what your stepdad was saying.

“Alright, that should be about everything.” He hands you back the rod. “Did you have any questions, want me to help you, uh, practice casting?”

You fight the urge to step away from him. “Naw, I’m good.”

He raises his hands. “Alright, alright. Just… be careful with the rod, OK? It was my grampa’s. He taught me how to fish with it, and I was hoping one day I’d teach my…” He looks out at the lake for a second, but his eyes are seeing something else. “Anyway, just be careful. And have fun!” He gives you a firm pat on the shoulder. “Catch anything, just throw it in the bucket!”

He grabs the tacklebox and walks off, and you watch him leave. Where the fuck did all that come from? It’s like the malicious pervert who’s been tormenting you since you got home from school yesterday vanished, and now David is just a normal stepdad, doing stepdad shit. This is better, right? Boring stepdad is better than… better than…

You shake your head before your mind can go there and settle down onto the lakeshore, sitting in a soft tuft of grass beside a tree. Giving the pole a half-hearted cast, you watch the line spool out over the water before the hook splashes down. Alright then, I guess I’m fishing now. At least I’m alone.

Your mind wanders as you sit there by the lake. You used to spend a lot of time in the great outdoors as a kid. Your best friend Emily was even more of a tomboy than you were, and was always pulling you out into the woods for one adventure or another. A smile perks up one corner of your mouth. I wonder how she’s been? Maybe I should text her. The smile vanishes and you push those thoughts away, not wanting to think about old friendships, old heartbreaks.

Not that you have a hard time distracting yourself from such thoughts. That unreached climax is still throbbing inside you, and you squirm in place in an attempt to relieve the pressure. What am I gonna do if those guys come back before David does? A shudder runs through you, and you try to convince yourself it’s fear. What if Gary starts touching me again? What if he does more? A small whine escapes your throat. And what about Brian? What if he wants in on the fun, too? What if he holds me down so I can’t get away from Gary? What if they both put their hands on me? What will I do?

You shake your head and squirm again. Fuck, your pussy is throbbing. Why is thinking about those creeps getting you so hot? But what if David does come back first? What if he’s not in his good mood anymore? He seemed to really get off on pushing me around yesterday, spanking me… Now a moan leaks out from between your lips. You can’t help it. He sure as shit got off on fucking my face. And I just let him. Why? Am I gonna let him again? Am I gonna let him do more? What if he wants to spank me again, put his hand on my throat again. Oh fuck what if he calls me a… calls me a…

Good girl?

Groaning in frustration, you press a hand against your crotch and squeeze your legs together. Breathing hard through your nose, you shut your eyes and try to escape this spiral of dark fantasies. Avoiding David in your mind sends you right back to Gary and Brian, and escaping them means thinking about your stepdad. And what if all three of them want a piece of me at the same time?

Leaning against the tree beside you, lost in your fretful imagination, you’re overwhelmed by the exhaustion of the early morning and long road trip. When your eyes open again, it’s nearly dark, and you see the fishing rod lying on the grass beside you, right next to David’s boots.

“Shit!” You bolt upright, looking up at your stepdad.

He grins down at you, taking a long pull from an almost finished joint, blowing the smoke in your face and laughing at your coughs. “I thought I told you to be careful with my rod, Cola.”

“cough cough Fuck, sorry, David, I…” Your voice trails off as he crouches down, putting his face right next to yours. He takes another pull from his joint, flicks it into the lake, then blows the smoke in your face again. This time you manage to avoid inhaling.

“Sorry, huh? So what were you up to that was more interesting than fishing?” Without warning, he shoves his hand between your legs and presses his palm against your crotch. “Christ, you’re on fire. You really have that much fun playing with Gary in the backseat?”

Your eyes go wide, and a voice inside is screaming at you to push him away, smack him, bite his stupid mustache off. Anything other than just sit there and let him feel you up. “Hey… I… I… that’s not…” Why is my voice so weak?

“Shut up.” He grabs your hair and shoves you, pressing the side of your face into the dirt and using his hand on your crotch to lift your ass up. “It’s not what it looks like, huh? Well let’s see about that.”

David undoes your fly and pulls your jeans and panties down to your knees. You’re breathing hard, part of you terrified and another part of you thrilled to be manhandled like this again. “H-hey! C-cut it out!”

“Oh I don’t think so, Cola.” He runs his fingers over your soaked entrance. “You lied to your stepfather. That means you need to be punished.” He giggles as he readjusts himself, pressing one boot into your cheek to grind your face into the dirt, and sinking two fingers into your wet, clutching passage.

“Hnnnnnnggggggggg!” You can’t help it. You’re so worked up, you can feel that orgasm rushing back. It’s already almost there. “D-d-david… please…”

“Please what?” He starts pumping his fingers into you.

“Ah ah ah AH AH AH AH AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” It’s no good. Your body immediately betrays you, your walls clenching around your stepdad’s fingers as you squirt all over his hand. No no fuck no not this please not this.

David hasn’t slowed down, giggling sharply as he continues to fingerfuck you. “Jeeeesus christ you’re even juicier than your mother!” He changes his angle to add pressure to your sweet spot as his boot presses harder into your cheek. “I’ve never seen a girl squirt that hard. Ya want another, Cola?”

Yes please. You bite your tongue to keep your answer inside, shocked at yourself. “F-fuck you, David.” You wanted your words to be a bitter rebuke to the treatment you’re receiving, but your voice betrays you, trembling and weak and whining.

Another giggle from your stepdad. “Oh are you sure about that? Seems your puss is telling a different story.” Just like that he ups the speed and pressure. “I think you do want another.”

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck he’s gonna make me come again FUCK. You can’t deny it. Another orgasm is rushing toward you, even bigger than the last one, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. A pathetic moan is the only sound you can make as you squeeze your eyes shut, preparing for the inevitable.

Except, just as you feel your body tensing for another release, David stops. “Not gonna be that easy, though, Cola. You gotta ask nicely if you wanna come again. Say please.” You can hear the grin in his voice.

Please let me come please oh please let me come. “N-not in your fucking life, David.” Your voice is still weak and pathetic in your ears, but you **** a growl into it. It’s all you can do.

“Alright then, we can do this the hard way.” He gives you another round of fingerfucking, laughing at you as you squirm and moan under his boot, once again stopping just before you find your release. “Ready to ask nicely now?”

You don’t trust yourself to speak, so you just growl at him. This only makes him laugh harder, fingerfuck you harder, press his boot into your cheek harder. He brings you to the brink again, and again, not even bothering to ask you anymore, just stopping and starting, stopping and starting, keeping you right on the edge.

It’s too much. You can’t comprehend what you’re feeling. You want to come, obviously, so fucking bad, but there’s more. Being below him. Feeling his boot grinding your face into the dirt. Hearing the mocking sound of his laughter. You can sense your resolve crumbling, and you don’t even try to fight it. You’re no longer trying to hide the pleasure in your voice anymore. You just want him to keep going. Make you come, again and again. You want to give in, want to surrender, want to hear those two words from him.

“P-please…” You manage to squeeze the word out in between moans.

David stops. “What was that? Speak up, Cola.”

Panting, squirming under him, wiggling your ass just to feel your pussy move against his fingers, you let the words spill out. “Please make me come. Please make come, David. Please. Please I don’t care just make me come please!”

He starts moving his fingers again, too slowly. “Apologize for disrespecting me.”

Your pussy clamps down as a fresh flood of juices leaks out over his hand. “I’m s-sorry for disrespecting you, David. P-please let me come!”

Faster and harder now. “Promise you’ll be an obedient stepdaughter from now on.”

You’re so close you can taste it. “I promise! I’ll be an o-o-OH-obedient stepdaughter I’ll never talk back again please I’ll be good please let me come PLEASE!”

There it is, you can feel it, it’s coming. Oh thank fuck yes please thank you David yes YES! And then he stops. Just like that. Pulls his fingers out of you, lifts his boot off your cheek, and steps away. NOOO!

He giggles again. “You really are pathetic, Cola.” You hear him light up another joint. “I think I like you better this way.” He gives your upraised ass a sharp smack and laughs at your pathetic whine. “Get yourself cleaned up, it’s almost time for dinner.” The sound of his footsteps fade into the distance.

You slump over on your side, trembling, panting, moaning. Pressing both hands into your crotch, you’re **** to finish the job but too ashamed to do it. You can still feel his bootprint in your cheek. You can still feel that **** urge to give in, do whatever he asks, let him take control of your body. I… I didn’t mean all that, did I? I’m not really gonna be… an obedient stepdaughter, right?

Unbidden, another voice, new and yet familiar, rises from deep inside. Obedient stepdaughters get called “good girl”.

You shudder and whine, and then bite your tongue as you hear footsteps approaching. Two sets of footsteps.

“God damn, Gary, you really did get her riled up. Look at this!”