Daddy's Girl

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Erotic Horror  |  House: Booksiesilk Classic Group

a hunting party with a difference

Shona McLeod walked down Princes Street watched admiringly by all the men she passed. Watched mainly from behind as her neat little bum wiggled in the shortest and tightest pair of shorts imaginable. The type of shorts she would never have been allowed to wear in Gullane, that backwater of Scottish prurience; the minister would have had a fit.


But Shona was now eighteen and a student in the Big City. Edinburgh! That Mecca for the gifted and artistic, among whose ranks Shona definitely counted herself. She was, even though she said it herself, a girl who could wear the shortest and tightest of shorts and get away with it. It required a bum that was neither too big nor too small and that was an accurate description of her bum. She could also get away with a tight tee shirt as she had a slim and willowy figure. Her breasts were neither too big nor too small, and her nipples could poke suggestively beneath the thin cotton material as they were firm enough not to require any artificial support. Her hair was chestnut and worn long, though usually tied back in a pony tail, her face was delightful even if her nose was ever so slightly retroussé and her face ever so slightly too round and freckly. Her eyes were sage green and given character by the slightest of divergent squints which alternated from one side to the other. Altogether she was a girl to turn heads as she marched purposefully down Princes Street from Waverley station in the direction of the National Gallery of Scotland.


Daddy's money was enough, well after all with a house in Gullane (pronounced Gillen according to Daddy to show that they lived 'up the hill' and not down with the peasants) - for her to have found a little flat out past the rugby ground to share with two other girls. Morag and Catriona were not the sort of girls who would turn men's heads. Morag cut her hair short and wore dungarees. Catriona, felt Shona, had let herself go.


Shona walked past the bizarre monument to the memory of Sir Walter Scott wondering, as many others have done, what a writer nobody ever read had done to deserve a gigantic edifice bigger than all those dedicated to the heroes of Scotland put together.


She turned into the gallery and descended the stairs to the lecture theatre. It was her first week as an art student and she was keen to learn. Daddy had said she'd never stick it, but then at his age, Old Daddy, over fifty, what did he know!


She had determined to attend all the public lectures at the gallery. Learning about the history of art was so important. Not that Daddy would have understood that.


The lecture was on Burne-Jones, the Pre-Raphaelite painter of willowy young ladies with chestnut hair and sage green eyes, more often than not not wearing any clothes. At the post-lecture drinks Shona attracted much attention as the most Pre-Raphaelite beauty there. She was the subject of much flattery, and with Shona flattery got you everywhere. It got Shona into the nightmare she was in now: hiding on a Scottish hillside, shivering in the cool breeze, trembling with fear - and stark naked.




Shona could hear voices from down below her, getting nearer, she would have to run. Though she risked being seen, she would have to run and she would have to run fast.




"Hello, I'm Archie Gillespie," Shona saw that the smooth cultured 'Posh Scots' accent belonged to a smooth cultured posh Scotsman more than a few years older than the impressionable Shona, but not old like Daddy. He was tall, he was dark and he was handsome and Shona felt her knees wobble a bit at being addressed by him. Archie noticed the wobble in her knees and the tremble in her voice as she replied. He was used to it. He knew the effect he had on women and he knew how to exploit it. He enjoyed exploiting it.


"Shona McLeod," Shona held out a shaky hand which Archie gripped firmly.


"I do so admire Burne-Jones," purred Archie, "a much underrated painter in my opinion."


"A very good artist," Shona knew her response was a bit pathetic, but her mind seemed to have gone a blank.


"Painter, darling," said Archie. He liked to call girls ‘Darling’, it somehow established his authority, "Artists perform in the Music Hall - works such as this," and his hand swept round the gallery, "are created by painters."


"Yes, of course," gabbled Shona, feeling her provincial inadequacies acutely at this put-down, "I meant painter, of course."


Archie, his intellectual superiority established, smiled benignly, "No you didn’t," he said, and Shona felt even smaller than before.


"Burne-Jones," continued Archie, "was a true aficionado of the female nude. Don't you think so Miss McLeod? Or may I call you Shona?"


"Er yes..." Shona's mouth moved but fearful of a further intellectual solecism no more words came out.


"Er yes... You agree with me concerning the merits of Burne-Jones or 'Er..Yes' I may call you 'Shona'? But it is the latter of course. As I am right about Burne-Jones any disagreement would be simply deliberate rudeness for the sake of argument, and you do not look to me like a girl who would be deliberately rude," this was said without a trace of irony, and Shona suddenly realized that it was her turn to speak.


She had quite liked the pictures, or were they paintings? She found herself quite tongue-tied.


"Shona, you can call me Shona," she gabbled. It seemed the safest thing to say.


"Has anybody ever told you, Shona, that you are quite the Pre-Raphaelite beauty yourself?"


Of course nobody ever had. Daddy hadn’t, he liked pictures of Scottish glens with stags and purple heather. He would feel that pictures of willowy ladies with no clothes on were the work of dissolute foreigners and the like.


Shona was at the same time both deeply flattered and deeply embarrassed by the remark. It seemed to her that Archie must be imagining her with no clothes on, which in turn made her feel that she had no clothes on. It was a sensation which awakened in her an extraordinary feeling of eroticism. Which of course had been the intention.


Archie saw the reaction, saw the touch of colour come to her face and spread down her neck and he smiled to himself. It was the smile that set Shona on the path to where she found herself now.




Where to run to? That was the problem. She had to get completely away. It was still hours to sunset. She had to get somewhere where she could hide. But she was completely naked. She had nothing on her feet. That was the big problem. Running in bare feet was going to be difficult. But she had no choice. She was going to have to run and risk being seen. Suddenly she broke cover and ran for it. Half a mile down the valley the hunter put his binoculars to his eyes and saw the naked figure running.


"There she goes," he said, and quickened his pace.




"Thank you," stammered Shona at last, trying to accept the compliment gracefully.


"And are you a painter yourself?" Archie raised a quizzical eyebrow.


"I'm studying art at Raeburn College," said Shona proudly, relieved that the conversation had moved on from her personal attributes.


"Indeed," said Archie, "you know what - I'm having a few people round my place tonight. A few drinks. A few nibbles. Why don't you come? You'll meet some... Some interesting people."


Shona couldn't believe her luck. An invitation to a party; a party at which she would meet, in her mind at least, a cross-section of the Edinburgh glitterati. Daddy would never believe it.


"Oh yes," she gasped, "where is it you live."


"I've a small place in the New Town - in Queen Street."


Queen Street! The guy must be rolling in it! She just had to find out how he got the money.


"Very nice. Er... Did your father buy it for you?"


Archie gave a condescending smile, "The Old Man! No chance of that. No - I work in the city. Edinburgh is fast becoming the financial capital of Europe you know."


Shona didn't know.


"But I thought. With the recession. The banking collapse. The stock market going down and everything, there wasn't any money to be made any more."


Archie gave a wry look, "In a banking crisis the little people lose money," he said, "The money doesn't disappear. It goes somewhere. It goes to people like me. We bankers love a crisis. That's when we make our money. God bless the little people!"


Shona looked at him in awe. Daddy had had shares in the Royal Bank and had lost pots of money. Daddy... a little person. She wasn't going to be a little person like Daddy.


"Of course I'll come," she said, "What time?"


Archie smiled. The trap had been set.




Looking behind her down the valley Shona saw the sun glinting off the lens of the binoculars and knew she had been seen. She could see the little figure moving left, cutting off her escape routes, making sure he would catch her. She pushed through the bracken, the stiff fronds cutting at her bare legs and headed for a small copse of Norway spruce. It was hard going. She had to hold her breasts to stop them bouncing and to protect her tender nipples from the branches of the trees as she pushed through. Suddenly she came to the edge of a steep sided dene with a fast flowing burn at the bottom. After the recent rain the brown peaty water swirled and gurgled as it raced along. They were behind her. She had no choice. She plunged headlong down the bank, her foot caught in a tree root and she tumbled, rolling and sliding down into the freezing water.




Shona looked round the strange bedroom. It was sumptuously furnished. The walls were decorated with modern art murals and the sheets were black silk. How had she got there? She had gone to a party. She could remember that. And she had drunk too much. But after that - nothing. And how had she got naked and had she... She felt between her legs. Surely not. Surely she would know if she had. Wouldn't she? She racked her brains but it was a total blank.


Queen Street, Shona thought, was the most beautiful place she had ever seen. Its Georgian facades in honey coloured stone, its magnificent vista to the summit of Calton Hill, its imposing grandeur were a monument to the first Scottish Enlightenment and a striking symbol of the New Enlightenment, the new resurgent Scotland, the Scotland of people like Archie.


At the thought of Archie she felt a little twist in the pit of her stomach, a little flare of that feeling of erotic excitement that she had felt in the gallery. Was she falling in love with him, or was it just the first awakenings of a desire for sex. Proper sex. Not hole in the corner stuff. Should she sleep with him if he asked? Daddy wouldn't have approved.  But Daddy, she now realised, for all his domineering ways... just a little person. She no longer had to do what Daddy said.




She rang the bell of Archie's 'place'. She had expected a decent New Town flat. But the word 'flat' did not do justice to what she saw. This was a luxury apartment. There, in the most prestigious part of the city, it must have cost millions.


She had somehow expected a sort of formal affair, with stuffy bankers in kilts, Bonny Prince Charlie jackets and black ties, what she saw was quite different.


The men wore the obligatory fashionable pastel coloured velvet cords with shirts by Pink or Hilfiger, worn open necked and turned back at the cuffs. Gold medallions were out, but gold bracelets were in. Hair was gelled and combed en-brosse.


The women, regardless of age, wore short cocktail dresses. White was 'in'. Black was 'in'. Yellow was very much last year. Shona was wearing yellow. And her hemline was two inches too long.


She looked round and the noise in the room stopped as the people took in the newcomer.


Archie looked across at her nervous smile and her gauche expression. She was perfect. Just perfect.




Shona gasped as her body hit the freezing water. The burn was only a foot deep but she tumbled headlong into it so that she was immersed in brown peaty slime. She scrambled to her feet and looked quickly round. No sign of pursuit yet. She scrambled out the water and started to claw her way up the other side of the dene. Then she heard it. The rustle from the other side of the burn as someone burst out from the trees. Gun in hand. Pointed at her.




"Well, hello Shona, lovely to see you."


Archie's smile was broad, but didn't extend to his eyes.


Shona smiled back, still overawed by the grandeur of the apartment.


"What a lovely place you have here," she gasped, "it must have cost..." she pulled up short, aware of the fact that she was about to commit the social solecism of talking about money.


"Cost a fortune," you were about to say. Archie didn't seem to be bothered about social solecisms. "It's bought through the firm's offshore arm based in Jersey. Good old Jersey. No stamp duty. Next to no tax. You know Shona, only little people pay tax. Anyone with anything about them doesn't."


Shona nodded her head vigorously. Daddy was always complaining about his tax bill, but of course Daddy was a little person so he would.


"A glass of Krug?" Archie proffered a glass, holding the bottle in the other hand, "the only Champagne worth drinking you must agree."


Shona did agree. Daddy drank Moet, but what would he know.


The party was not quite what Shona had expected. Less restrained, more louche was the only way she could describe it. She liked that word louche, with its connotations of a lifestyle unknown in Gullane.


"Can I introduce you to Gregor," Archie pointed to a tall, fair haired man dressed in a pale pink striped shirt and canary yellow trousers. His hair was unfashionable long so that he resembled nothing so much as a member of a nineteen-seventies glam rock band, "Here Gregor," Archie motioned him over, "This is Shona. She is studying art. At Raeburn College."


Did Shona catch a hint of sarcasm in his voice, as if Raeburn College was a place to be sneered at?


"Gregor's people own half of highland Perthshire," smiled Archie.


"I thought that was the Duke of Atholl," said Shona trying to be clever.


"He owns the other half," Gregor's voice was public school English, "Here, meet my little friends."


Gregor pointed out two giggling girls that he had in tow, dressed in micro-skirts, impossibly high heels and far too much make-up.


Shona was dragged over to the two girls who had obviously been indulging in something a bit more potent than Krug.


"Kaylee, Bobbi," said Gregor with a flourish, "say hello to Shona."


"Not their real names you know," he added winking.


"Hello Shona," they said in unison.


From their accents and everything else Shona guessed they were a couple of Dundee tarts shipped in for the occasion.


"Here girls, little treat for you," Gregor poured out a line of white powder on the table. The girls snorted the powder up while Shona looked on in amazement. Surely it wasn't... But it was. The Krug had gone to her head and she started to flirt outrageously with Archie.




"Yes Archie dear," Shona accentuated the 'Dear' licking her lips provocatively as she did so.


"Would you like to score a line?"


"A what?" Shona was bemused. The provision of cocaine was not the norm in parties in Gullane and the expression was totally unknown to her. Archie had to explain and Shona felt like the silly provincial fool. Then she couldn't be so provincial as to refuse could she? Daddy wouldn't have approved. But then she didn't have to do what Daddy told her to any more, did she? She inexpertly inhaled the white powder and rubbed the residue round her gums as Archie explained.


She didn't remember much after that. Not till she awoke in the strange bed. Naked.




Thud. She heard a noise as something slammed into a tree trunk next to her. She looked back. The figure was reloading. One shot used. She had been lucky this time she might not be so lucky the next.


Her breasts and torso covered in mud and scratched by the wild brambles that grew in the wood she crawled on hands and knees up the slope praying that she would be out of sight before he, or she, reloaded.


The figure though did not hurry. He had had no intention of hitting his target. It would be no fun to end it all so soon. The fun was in the chase. The quarry had to be given some hope. She had to be given the incentive to keep running.


And the naked figure was running again. He liked to watch a naked girl run. Yes she could run for the moment. The time to bring her down would come later.




She thought she had better get up and see what was going on, but she was naked. Wrapping the black sheet round her she gingerly opened the door and peered round. The smell of bacon assailed her nostrils. Archie, dressed in a silk kimono dressing gown, was frying eggs and bacon. Shona suddenly felt very sick.


"Where's the loo?" she gasped and dashed across the kitchen-dining room when Archie pointed out the door. In her haste she tripped over the trailing sheet which fell to the floor leaving her in a naked dash across the room. Archie smiled at her retreating figure admiring her picturesque behind. He smiled. Perfect.


Five minutes later Shona poked her head round the door having managed to avoid being sick.


"Archie, can you hand me the sheet please?"


But Archie just answered with a shake of his head. "Can't leave these," he said, indicating the eggs and bacon. Shona realised she was going to have to scamper back across the room naked. It was all too humiliating. All too like those games with Daddy. When she had been younger.


She retrieved the sheet. Those games... Daddy had enjoyed them but she felt he wouldn't approve...




"Yes Daddy... I mean yes Archie."


Why had she called him Daddy? For a moment it had been as if she had been transported back to the old days. When she had played those games with Daddy.


Archie looked at her and raised his eyebrows.


"Shona Darling, you look lovely without the sheet. And Shona darling. I love it when you call me Daddy. It'll be our little game."


"Yes Daddy," Shona dropped the sheet. What was she doing, playing Daddy games with this older man? She didn't know. She just knew she wanted to.




"Yes Darling."


"Was I?"


"Were you what?"


"You know... Last night. Was I a naughty girl?"


"Darling you were flat out and sick all over your nice dress. We had to take all your clothes off and throw them out. Then we had to put you to bed. That is what happened."


"Yes Daddy. But was I a naughty girl?"


Realisation dawned on Archie.


"Yes you were a naughty girl. And you're going to get what naughty girls get."




Shona stumbled through the wood. She was being hunted like an animal. She knew why they had stripped her naked. To make her feel vulnerable, to make her afraid, so she would be totally exposed to their gaze, to their power. She had seen how the fear had overcome the other girl. Shona had watched, out of sight, as the girl stood naked and trembling, waiting for them to come. Like a rabbit caught in the headlights. Like a skinny naked rabbit as they took aim and fired.




Morag put down the phone. She had been on the point of ringing Shona's parents in Gullane, to see if by any chance she had gone there, but she was stopped by the sound of frantic knocking on the door of the apartment. She hurried to open it, and there to her amazement, and it must be admitted horror, stood Shona: bedraggled, red eyed, giggling and most astonishing of all - stark naked. Even though the girls shared a flat Morag had never seen Shona even in her underwear before, never mind naked. Shona was not the sort of girl, unlike Catriona who made a habit of it, to wander round the flat in the nude.


"Shona! What on earth! Come in," and she grabbed hold of her hand and pulled her into the flat.


"What on earth have you been doing girl. You can't wander round the city with nothing on, you'll get arrested."


"Do you like me with nothing on?" Shona struck a pose with one hand on her hip and one behind her head.


Morag looked her up and down. There was certainly plenty to admire there, but what on earth was the girl playing at?


"Do you like me with nothing on?" Shona asked the question again.


"Yes, of course. But what on earth happened. You tell us you're going to some boring party with a lot of arty twerps and you turn up next morning stark naked looking as if you'd just struck it lucky with..."


Shona grinned sheepishly.


"Oh you didn't get... Well did you!"


Shona nodded.


"Well I hope it was worth losing your clothes for!"


"It's all right. Daddy gave me a lift back."


"Daddy! Your father gave you a lift back. Naked!"


"No, no - Archie. I didn't say Daddy. I said Archie. Archie gave me a lift back. I'd been sick all over my clothes and they had to throw them away and I passed out and when I woke up I was naked and..."


"...Archie took advantage of you I suppose."


"No! It wasn't like that at all."


"Well whatever it was like he shouldn't have dropped you off naked. Whatever will the neighbours think?"


"Bugger the neighbours," said Shona defiantly, "Bugger the neighbours."


Morag shook her head in disbelief. This Archie did not sound the sort of character her Shona should be getting mixed up with. She looked as if she was high on something, and he might have given her a good seeing to, which she probably needed, but even so!


"You need a hot bath my girl. And a day in bed to recover from your... Exertions. I'll phone the college."


Catriona returned while Shona was in the bath and Morag gave her the whole story.


"She lost all her clothes and got herself laid," said Morag.


"Good for her. She's looked like she's been needing that for a while."


"Not good at all," said Morag, "I don't like this Archie character. He might be an Adonis with a nine inch prick..."


"Nine inches!"


"Well I don't know, pretty impressive by the look on her face, but that's beside the point, he seems to have got some sort of an influence over her... And she called him..." Morag hesitated.


"Called him what?"


"She called him 'Daddy'. She tried to deny it, but she did. There's something weird going on. And I'm going to get to the bottom of it."


"Just a slip of the tongue," said Catriona.


"Well I don't know. She's changed in a weird way."


At that moment Shona reappeared glowing from the hot bath and from the beneficial effects of the several explosive orgasms she had been given earlier.


"You look like the cat that got the cream," said Catriona admiring Shona's naked body and noting that she seemed to be a genuine redhead - unless of course she dyed her... No Shona would never - the abundant curls of her pubic triangle were surely pristine.


Shona did a little twirl to show off her curves.


"I hear you got a .... And about time too. Come on. Tell us all about it," at one time Shona would have been embarrassed by language like that, but now well...


"Daddy was wonderful," she said, "I'm going to lie down," and hips swaying, she walked unabashed naked across the room and into her bedroom.


"Daddy!" said Catriona, her eyes wide open, "She called him 'Daddy'!"




Shona was crawling through the undergrowth. It seemed the safest thing to do. She was too exhausted, and her feet hurt too much to run, but on hands and knees among the low growing rhododendrons on this part of the estate she would remain hidden.


Why had she done it? How had she been lured into this? Why had she stripped naked? In her heart of hearts she knew. He had not just got into her knickers, he had not just got into her sex, he had got into her mind, got control of it, bent it to his will. She had wanted to do it, wanted to strip naked for him, wanted to obey him.


She winced as a wayward thorn scratched the side of her bare breast. She rubbed it and noted a thin streak of blood. She couldn't go on like this. She looked up at the sky. The sun was dropping towards the horizon. If only she could hide until dark then she might stand a chance of escape. Suddenly she heard a voice less than a hundred yards away.


"Come out, come out wherever you are."


Panic surged uncontrollable through her naked body, so unprotected, so vulnerable. She couldn't prevent herself. She stood up and ran. Heedless of the pain in her feet, of the thorns whipping at her bare flesh she plunges through the briar while the figure stood and watched her. It was so easy to flush her out. Such fun.




"You're doing what!"


"Staying naked," Shona replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world.


"Why on earth..."


"Daddy wants me to."


Will you stop calling him 'Daddy'. He's not your Daddy he's Archie. He..." she stopped short noticing the marks on Shona's arms for the first time. A neat row of small scars, "He..." but she couldn't go on.


"He wants me to call him that. He's better than Old Daddy."


Shona seemed to have regressed to about twelve years old. At that moment Catriona came in.


"Hi Sexy," she said.


"Don't encourage her;" said Morag, "Do you know what she just told me she's doing today."


"Daddy just invited me to go up to his friend's estate in Perthshire. They're planning a day's hunting."


"Hunting? They don't go foxhunting in the highlands. Anyway I thought it had been banned."


"Not foxhunting."


"Well what then?"


"I don't know. Deer I suppose."


"That's called deer stalking."


"Well Daddy calls it hunting so there!"


"Anyway that's beside the point. It's what you're going to be wearing up there that's so weird," Morag was getting quite worked up now.


"Well, what is she going to wear?" Catriona was dying to know.






"Nothing. She's proposing to go up to this benighted place in the middle of nowhere stark naked!"


Catriona burst into howls of laughter.


"Naked! I don't believe it! You go sexy girl."


"It's not funny Catriona, it's weird. She can't go deer stalking or hunting or whatever it is starkers it's ridiculous."


"Oh you're just jealous," said Catriona, "you've always wanted to get in her knickers yourself and now you’re jealous!"


Shona had been following this exchange about her as if she hadn't been there, but this last comment brought her up short. Morag wanted to get in her knickers. She could see from the expression on Morag's face that it was true. She'd wanted to get in her knickers and now Shona wasn't wearing any. Shona suddenly felt very naked indeed. She covered her sex with her hands and stared at Morag.


"I think I'd better go," she said, making for the door.


"Stay," shouted Morag, "Stay. It's bloody weird I'm telling. Well go if you must, but if you're not home by five I'm coming after you. Do you hear? I'm coming after you," but Shona had already gone.




Shona ran. A thorny bramble whipped up and slashed between her legs. She winced as the thorns bit into her unprotected private parts, but fear overcame all else. Since the other girl had been shot she had known nothing but mortal fear. It hadn't been supposed to be like this. It had been supposed to be a game, a sex game, a Daddy game, but she had seen the figure fire at the other girl as she stood in the clearing, naked, trembling, pleading, had seen the stain spread across her bare breast, had seen her fall to the ground insensible.


So she plunged on heedless of the pain in her feet, of the stinging between her legs, of the bleeding scratch on her bare breast. She could only think to run. In blind panic she could only run. No matter that her brain told her the safest thing was to hide, she could only run.


The figure with the gun watched her. She was running, but she was no nearer to escaping; oblivious of her surroundings he was chasing her round in a big circle, a circle which would take her back to the clearing. The clearing where he had left the other girl, the clearing where he had left the other hunter behind to wait for her, where he would bring the hunt to a satisfactory conclusion.




Shona grabbed her coat and ran out the flat and on to the communal stairs which led down to the street where she was parked. Then she shrieked. Their neighbour, an older man who she had never spoken to was coming up the stairs and she was still naked. But she had committed herself now. She couldn't go back. Trying to look as self-confident as she could she mumbled, "Excuse me" and pushed past. He stopped and stared open mouthed at the retreating naked figure as she went down and out into the street putting on her coat as she did so. Her car was outside the flat and she climbed in, felt in her pocket for her keys, and set off. Morag wanted to get into her knickers. Well she'd see about that. New Daddy would take care of her. She'd never go back to that flat again.


Back in the flat Morag sat with her head in her hands sobbing.


"You bitch," she said to the astonished Catriona, "You bitch."


But Shona was already on the way to the road bridge to take her over the Forth and on her way to Perth. She had her map open on her knee. Gregor's estate, or at any rate his father's estate, was at Allt-na-Craig north of Loch Tay, about an hour and a half's drive. She'd be there by lunch time. It was September and a pleasant early autumn day, but the weather was changeable that time of year and it could come in cool by the evening. She turned off the A9 just past Dunkeld and at Aberfeldy she took a minor road north of the loch and then onto a dirt road over the moor, still showing the last purple of the heather, before she reached Allt-na-Craig.


It was a typical nineteenth century lodge built in the Scots Baronial style to house grouse shooting or deer stalking parties. The surrounding estate was a mixture of heather moorland and Douglas fir plantations undergrown with dense rhododendron. The land was too poor to support sheep and was deserted.


She pulled up her Mini Cooper and stepped out conscious of the fact that she was wearing nothing but a light lambswool coat. She remembered that coat. Old Daddy had bought it for her as a present when she left home. A present for all the things she had done for him. She looked round and saw New Daddy, smiling, but not with his eyes, on the front step of the lodge.


She took off the coat and threw it on the ground in the mud. That was what she thought of Old Daddy. She was New Daddy's girl now and she would do what he said. She walked up to New Daddy smiling but stopped short suddenly as the door to the lodge opened and two figures emerged. She recognized them both. One was Gregor, the friend of new Daddy that she had met at the party, of course he would be there, the estate belonged to his family, but the other took her by surprise. It was Kaylee, the Dundee tart that had been with Gregor, and she was naked.


Shona looked at Kaylee suddenly jealous that this little tart was naked as well, but she soon saw that Kaylee was far from happy. Her eyes displayed a degree of alarm and she was shivering in a way which was not entirely explained by the cool of the September air.


She looked at Gregor and saw that he was carrying two strange looking guns and she suddenly realised the reason for Kaylee’s alarm. She realised the nature of the quarry that was to be hunted. It was them. Shona looked at Archie.


“Is this what you want Daddy?”


Kaylee’s eyes opened wide at the word ‘Daddy’.


“Don’t look so alarmed, Darling,” said Archie, just a bit of fun. A naked girl hunt. They’re only paintballs. Look.” And he fired one at a nearby tree. It splattered bright blue over the trunk.


“Blue for me, green for Gregor. See if we can get you.”


Shona shivered a bit, but it was her duty to obey New Daddy.


“Yes Daddy,” she said.


“Gregor looked at his watch. Shona noticed the sun glint off the gold Rolex.


“We give you twenty minutes start,” he said, “but there is a little twist to our game. A little sting in the tail. A little something to make it more fun.”


“What?” Kaylee looked more alarmed than ever.


“Well that’s the thing,” said Gregor, “it’s a little secret. We have a special treat lined up for us with the either girl that gets hit. A treat for us that is, not for you. Believe me you don’t want to us to get you. You really don’t. Well there has to be some incentive for you to run hasn’t there?”


“But what sort of thing,” Kaylee was trembling now and her voice was shaking.


“That would be telling, but you’ll soon find out if we get you. And you won’t like it. So you’d better get running. I think it’s only eighteen minutes now.”


“I believe it is,” said Archie.


Shona turned and started to run, but Kaylee remained rooted to the spot for several seconds before she followed her.




It was what had happened to the other girl which filled her with fear. It was still clear in her mind as if etched on the back of her retina. Kaylee in the clearing. Her pleading tearstained face as the gun was raised. The shot. The stain as it spread across her breast. Not blue nor green. Red.


That was why she ran, naked, unprotected, heedless of the thorns in her feet, of the stinging between her legs of the slash across her breast. If only she could keep safe until nightfall. If only. Her breasts bounced as she ran and she tried to hold them in her hands, feeling her hard nipples against her fingers, but without her hands to balance her it was difficult to keep her balanced and more than once she fell rolling and tumbling through the undergrowth.


The hunter followed her with ease. Gently guiding her, oblivious, round towards her fate.




Morag glanced down at the map on her knee. She had found Allt-na-Craig at last on the map, up past the top end of Glen Lyon. She had a dreadful sense of foreboding. It was too weird, too strange. She sensed Shona was in danger. It was her job to rescue her.


She pulled up beside a locked gate than led to a track over the moor. She glanced at her map again. If only she had a proper walking map, the road map gave little detail, but if she followed this track she reckoned, that would bring her to the estate the back way. She left the car and started running up the track.


It was nearly half a mile before she came to the fence. An eight foot deer fence, totally impossible to scale. She could see the estate beyond. She pulled out her field glasses and scanned the countryside, and what she saw made her worst fears realized. It was Shona, naked, disheveled, bleeding running through the heather as if her life depended on it, and a few hundred yards behind the shadowy figure of a man. A man with a gun.


She had to do something. She had to get over the fence. But it was impossible. But there had to be a way through the fence. Under Scottish law hikers had to be given access to the countryside. There must be a gate through the fence somewhere, but was it right or left. She had to make a decision. Right it would be. She turned and ran.




Shona stumbled out of the small copse she had been running through. Panting for breath, feeling as if her lungs would burst. She stared round her. It looked vaguely familiar. She looked again and her heart missed a beat. In the gathering gloom she recognized the clearing. The clearing where she had last seen Kaylee and the memory of the girl, the shot, the dark red stain and her lifeless body came back to her. Then as she looked again she saw something else. A pale figure in the middle of the clearing. A figure that appeared to be struggling. She crept warily towards it until she could make it out. A girl, bound and tied to a stake, naked, gagged. She ran towards it. She knew she shouldn’t but she couldn’t help herself.


“Hold on Kaylee, I’m coming…” then she stopped short. She looked at the figure again. Oh my God!


“Morag!” she shouted, and at that moment Morag managed to loosen the gag in her mouth.


“Shona! No!” she shouted.


Too late Shona turned and saw the man with the gun. She heard the shot ring out and looking down saw the dark red stain spread across her left breast.






When Shona came round the first thing she saw was that she was lying on a bed in a small bare room stark naked, the next thing she saw was New Daddy standing there with a sardonic smile on his face.  He was dressed in full Highland Dress, formally, as if for a wedding or other ceremony.


"Hi Shona," he said, "did you enjoy that?"


"But...  But..."  Shona didn't understand, she'd been running from the man with the gun.  He'd killed Kaylee, he'd killed her, she remembered the red stain on her breast.  "But Gregor shot me.  He killed Kaylee.  I saw it.  She was lying dead."


"Just a little play acting Darling.  Red ink instead of blue.  It wouldn't have been any fun if you hadn't been really frightened would it now?  Running naked from a man trying to kill you. That was a real thrill wasn't it?"


"Yes Daddy.  But...  But..."


"Yes Darling..."


"But what about Morag.  I saw Morag..."


"Oh yes.  The interfering Morag. She rather added to the fun didn't she?"


"But where is she now Daddy?"


"Follow me and see."


"But Daddy, I've got no clothes on."


Shona gasped suddenly.  That had been what she used to say to Old Daddy.


"And that Darling is the way I like you."


And that was what Old Daddy used to reply.


She followed New Daddy down some stone steps to the cellar.  In the middle of the room was a figure, dimly visible in the faint light.  A switch was flicked and the scene became clearly illuminated.  Shona gasped.  A man stood there, Gregor, his face flushed and excited.  Beside him stood Kaylee.  She was wearing a black basque, high heeled boots and fishnet stockings.  She had a sneering grin on her face.  In the middle of the room was Morag, bound, gagged, naked, and suspended from the ceiling by her hands.


"What's happening."


"Well, remember I said there was a special prize if you were hit."


"Yes Daddy."


"Well Gregor won the special prize.  Gregor..."


Gregor stood up.  He reached over to Shona and fondled her left breast.  The reason for his flushed expression became clear.  Shona was the prize.


"Time for Gregor to claim his special prize Darling.  Just bend over the table there.  Facing Morag.  Morag will want to watch, won't you Morag?"


Morag, bound and naked, struggled in vain to say something.


"No Daddy.  Please Daddy..."  Just like she had pleaded with Old Daddy, in the olden days.


"Now, now, Darling.  Don't be naughty.  Naughtiness has consequences.  Don't keep Gregor waiting.  He wants to claim his prize.  Over the table with you."


"No Daddy.  No!  I won't."


"Tut tut...  Well, as I said, naughtiness has consequences...  Kaylee..."


"Yes Archie..."


Kaylee stood up, and Shona saw for the first time that she had a riding crop in her hand.  She walked over to the struggling naked figure of Morag and whipped her hard.  Morag writhed and struggled as a vivid red stripe appeared across her bare buttocks.  She looked at Shona and shook her head vigorously.


"And Again...


"Over the table Darling.  Legs apart.  Gregor's getting impatient." Again Morag shook her head.  "If you insist.  Lay it on Kaylee."


Kaylee raised the whip and another stripe appeared across Morag's buttocks.  And another. And another.  Still Morag shook her head and Shona did not move.


"Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear..."  Archie shook his head again, "as I said Darling.  Naughtiness has its consequences."


He reached into the top of his stocking and pulled out a long sharp bone handled knife.  The sgian-dubh, a blade that could cut flesh as easily as butter, as Shona well knew.  She gasped in horror as Archie held it against Morag's breast.  He smiled his sardonic smile at Shona again and handed her the knife.


"Cut her," he said, "cut her.  Or Gregor claims his prize."


It was  knife like with Old Daddy...  Old Daddy...   Just like with Old Daddy...




"Breakfast's ready!"  Morag brought over the plate of bacon, eggs and mushrooms to wear Shona and Catriona sat at the breakfast table.  Shona smiled.  She looked lovely, Morag thought, in her pyjamas, sitting at the breakfast table drinking her orange juice.  The word 'Daddy' hadn't crossed her lips since they got back.


Catriona looked up from the paper.


"I say," she said, "you know that bloke you met at the gallery."


"You mean Archie?" said Shona.




"What about him?"


"Look here..."  She showed her the headline in the newspaper.




"It says here," said Catriona, "that they haven't been seen since going out on some stalking project last week.  Isn't that where you were going?"


"Never went," said Shona.  That was all.  Morag had told her not to say anything.  It would be better that way.  The courts had been lenient with her about Old Daddy.  Self-defence they had said.  Shona had thought they would say the same again, but Morag had said that twice might look suspicious and no-one would ever look down the old well.


Catriona started to read the paper again.  At the bottom of the page was a small paragraph on the hunt for a missing Dundee prostitute.




Submitted: May 27, 2020

© Copyright 2022 Joex. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:


Amy F. Turner

What a harrowing tale, J! It was well written and executed in how it kept me on the edge of my seat wondering how it would turn out. Past and present collided with an ending that was to die for. Loved i!

Thu, May 28th, 2020 4:38am


Okay, that was amazing, Joex. At first, I wasn't too keen on your alternating time element. By the end of the story, I was enamored with the effect. It's a bit similar to what I remember with 'Girl on a Train', if you've read that. I'm sure there are other examples, but you pulled it off beautifully and the story is fab. I particularly like the ending. Well played and utter justice. I remember a story I read in high school English called "The Most Dangerous Game" - also a short much like yours, but certainly not as erotic. It similarly depicted a human hunt where the hunted managed to flip the circumstances round to their favor. Your piece is excellent and completely publishable in my opinion.

I know you described Archie as tall, dark, and handsome - but somehow his dialect and countenance had me envisioning Viserys Targaryen (Game of Thrones). I loved the play on "Daddy" with the slow and subtle revelations about Old Daddy's abusive nature along with the comparison contrast to New Daddy; the Freudian Slip, as it were, where Shona starts this process of reference that expounds into a rather amazing revelation in the end. I love the character development. The pompous, aristocratic, narcissistic Archie isn't really so much charming as he is alluring to Shona, whose beauty carries her places where she is otherwise ill-equipped to travel. She is small town come to the big city, more vulnerable than she's willing to admit....but in the end, apparently less vulnerable than assumed.

The specific details in your story - the famous painter, the college, the towns, the street names, directions to the lodge....all of that and the like greatly validate the piece. Rich vocabulary and outstanding imagery. Super impressive!

Mon, June 8th, 2020 1:16am


Thank you very much for your comments. I was trying to build a picture of a modern Edinburgh - as a thriving financial centre with privileged city types, throwing off the old kilts and bagpipes image of Scotland.

Sun, June 7th, 2020 10:49pm


I've never been to Scotland or Edinburgh, so I have no preconceived notions of the place, bagpipes or otherwise. I completely accepted the idea of modernization, but that was hardly what made the story. Your piece is just really well thought out and developed. You manage this skip around time element well and to your advantage. I was actually under the impression that Shona had escaped the hunt back to her flat when she arrived there naked, but soon is became obvious she hadn't because she left to go on the hunt from there. Her change in personality, her nude nonchalance and continual reference to 'daddy' during that scene was almost shocking - then you revealed the needle marks? That was subtle. There were a lot of nuances in this piece. It's far and away the best thing I've read of yours.

Mon, June 8th, 2020 10:16pm

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