Bad Heather Revisited Ch. 01byTx Tall Tales©
Heather has been bad, very bad. Can she turn over a new leaf?
This story is a rewrite of one written for the Summer Contest, with a very different twist and ending. What would happen if Heather's plans fall asunder?
You may notice, it's a lot longer, with the time pressure of competition out of the way.
All characters in the story are at least 18 years old.
"I just can't stand him!"
"Now Heather, he IS your father. Have a little respect. Things are hard for him right now; just try to keep the peace," her mother replied from 1100 miles away.
"When are you coming home?" Heather whined.
"Not until the end of the month. It's a great opportunity for me and we need the money right now. And to be brutally honest, young lady, I don't need the added stress."
"He won't let me do ANYTHING!" Heather continued.
"Then stop screwing up and get in his good graces. I don't have time for this right now honey. Just listen to your father for once, and try to be good for a while..."
Heather hung up on her mother, and screamed in frustration as she ran up the stairs to her room, slamming the door behind her. If she expected that to somehow make things better, she was sorely mistaken.
Ever since her mother had accepted the short-term project in Manhattan for most of the summer, life had been miserable.
Under the best of circumstances, Heather and her father barely communicated. Her mother was the glue that held the family together, such as it was. Now that her father had been laid off after 22 years at the same job, he was even harder to put up with.
Summer was usually a great time. With the parents gone each day she got to sleep in, lie around the pool, hit the mall, gab on the phone, and just do whatever she wanted.
Not this year. Within the first week of summer vacation, she'd lost her cell phone privileges when her grades showed up in the mail. It wasn't her fault the science and history teachers didn't like her. And she had managed to pass both courses. By the skin of her teeth.
Her mother had given her the phone back, the night before she left for New York. She understood the importance of having a phone. Then that bastard had turned off the service. She'd pleaded with her mom over the phone to intervene for her, but so far, she was still without a cell.
The whole party incident the next week could hardly be blamed on her. She had intended to leave before midnight, as she'd promised, but Derek and Rob had taken her car keys and wouldn't give them back until she joined them in a round of shots. Ok, a few rounds. Fine. And a few games it was probably best her parents never found out about. Figure in another 10 minutes just to find her bra. What? Was she supposed to just leave behind a $40 bra? And it was ridiculous that cops could park outside of a party and try to trap drivers when you're only driving like 4 blocks away! When her father finally picked her up at the police station at 2:30 am, that was the end of car privileges for the Summer. On that issue, at least, her mother had gotten the old fart to make it for just four weeks, if she'd stay out of trouble.
Of course, if her stupid friends hadn't pushed the patio furniture into the pool, she wouldn't be stuck at home alone all day, with no visitors allowed. Alright, maybe she shouldn't have dared them, but who would have guessed they would be such idiots to really do it? Or that it would be so damned hard to get the stuff out the next day. Or that they would leave rust stains on the bottom of the pool. That had lead to this latest call with her mom, but for once, an exasperated Janice told her she'd have to live with her actions.
Damn! This was supposed to be the best summer of her life. She was finally 18, and would be going off to college in September. If she could finally get one to let her in, that is. She'd just die if she had to go to DCCC. Community college was for losers.
Heather looked at her svelte form in the mirror. She was looking more like her mother every day. A slow started, she had finally filled out this last semester. She was already a little taller than her Mom's 5'3" and weighed exactly 108 lbs that very morning. The Nordic look, the long blonde hair, fair skin, and big blue eyes were more of her mother's genetic donation. Her father's family did seem to be responsible for the curves, which she had in abundance, if she did say so herself. She frowned at herself, and turned, looking at the pooch of her stomach, her too big ears. She ran her hands across the bottom of her rib cage, sucking in her belly to see if she could make it stand out. Her left tit was still bigger than her right one, but she was still growing there, maybe they would even out. Eight more pounds and an ear tuck, and she'd have a body most women would kill for. Locked behind these damn walls for her first legal summer. Damn her luck. What a waste.
* * *
Harold Payne was pacing his office, oblivious to his daughter's tantrum. He had bigger things on his mind.
Getting laid off after 22 years wasn't that bad. He had a good pension, and he'd worked a lot of overtime in the previous two years, upping his final wages. But collecting on that was still 8 years away. He'd gotten a decent severance package as well, 2 weeks pay per year of service, and he had immediately applied for unemployment. For the moment, money was not the issue, no matter how gloomy his wife made it sound.
For once in his life, he had the time and the means to do what he wanted to do. He didn't need to look for a new job yet; he could wait until the end of the summer.
He'd always wanted to get involved in local politics, and with things the way they were, it was more important to do that now than ever before. He'd been active in the union leadership, and people had always told him he was a convincing speaker. Completing his education on the company's dime seemed more valuable now than ever.
He stopped and admired his physique in the mirror. At 42 years old, he could easily pass for 30. Barely a hint of gray hair, hardly a wrinkle on his face. At 5'7" he was average in height, but his running and yoga kept him lean, and his clean diet kept him healthy. Harold smiled at his reflection. His wife, Janice, had nothing to complain about.
Thinking of Janice brought a frown to his face. Twenty-three years they'd been together, and except for a few rocky months back when Heather was still in her terrible two's, they'd had a pretty good thing going. He'd always been proud to go anywhere with Janice beside him. At any event they were among the best looking there. He felt enormous pride when his friends and coworkers looked her over. She was a beautiful woman still, even if there was a little more woman there now; she wore it well. Their love life had been good, if not spectacular. He'd always fantasized, what man didn't? But he hadn't strayed more than a couple of times in all those years, and never at home. And why would he? She was loving, attentive, kept a good house, and kept herself looking great. They shared values and dreams, and had been blessed with the most beautiful, perfect daughter in the word.
Things had changed, as their daughter had. Janice seemed much more distant. Their bedroom antics which were always pretty adventurous, or so it seemed compared to most of their friends, had become much more plain-vanilla. Now, in retrospect, he realized how much he missed the ways things were, and how good he'd had it.
Now she was always irritated with him, blaming him for the way that Heather was turning out. He'd given up on the hellion years ago, letting Janice spoil her rotten, and guaranteeing that no matter what the brat did, there'd be no consequences. When she'd brought home her first F's at 15 years old, after 9 years of A's and B's, Janice just wanted to console her and took her out for a spa day. When she'd started lying to them all the time, Janice covered for her. When she'd wrecked her car, Janice had tried to get it secretly fixed so he wouldn't even know. He'd argued. He'd yelled. He'd threatened. He'd even pleaded, but in the end he couldn't make any changes in their daughter, with Janice sabotaging every effort. It had broken his heart, and he'd found himself bitterly angry with his wife, who was so good in so many other ways.
She was off in Manhattan, doing who knows what with whom. He didn't trust her boss a whit, and in her latest mood, he wasn't sure how far he trusted Janice. Now he was stuck with the monster child, a completely out of control brat. At least for once, he could show her that behavior had consequences, without Janice interfering.
He did need to think about what to do with his life, especially with Heather headed off to college at the end of summer. No need to rush things, however. He'd worked hard for over 20 years. He deserved a little break. And his new computer was opening all kinds of new vistas to him. A couple of weeks of R&R, especially with his wife off of his back, checking on his job hunt progress everyday. And he had a little 'fund' the wife wasn't even aware of - his vacation and sick pay came in a different check, that she'd never even seen. Sitting in a brand new bank, with a brand new ATM card, and a brand new mailbox that received the bills.
Of course the cloud hovering over the whole situation was his irresponsible headache of a daughter.
* * *
Janice hung up the phone, after the abrupt conversation ending with Heather, and took a deep breath.
She looked over to Roger, who sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for her to get ready before going out to dinner. He'd shown up early and made himself at home with same cocky confidence he did everything.
Roger was a big man, in every way. At 6'3", he still had that jock look from his college days. He still carried himself with confidence, and why wouldn't he? A VP at just 45 years old, devastatingly handsome, he had the golden touch. Which was one of the reasons she took the project. With Roger working on it, it was almost guaranteed to be a success. His were coattails she wouldn't mind riding.
He was big in other ways, too. When they had danced together just three nights ago, she had felt him rubbing against her, and she almost fainted when she realized the size of the bulge that was pressed against her belly. Harold was above average in those things, but this man was a giant! When his huge hands held her, touched her, it made her seem to small, so fragile. So different.
He made her feel like a woman. A highly desirable woman.
Now he was sitting here, in her hotel room, watching her finish getting ready. They both knew that there was electricity between them. Janice just had to wonder if she was ready for this. In over twenty years she'd only strayed once, more than 15 years earlier. If she crossed the line this time, she didn't know if she'd come back.
Lost in her thoughts, she'd almost forgotten to answer his question. "Everything's fine. Well, maybe not fine. Our daughter's feeling a little frustrated with her father. He's a good bit stricter than I am. She's screwing up, and he's showing her that there are consequences." Janice went back to the bathroom where she could finish her hair, but she left the door open so they could still talk.
"Sounds like that's a good thing. I've heard your stories. She's out of control."
His voice sounded louder, and she looked over in the mirror, and saw him standing in the door of the bathroom watching her. His eyes devoured her, and she felt wanted - more so than she had in years. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off her ass, tightly encased in her skirt. She was acutely aware that underneath she was bare except for her pantyhose, not wanting any panty lines to ruin the look.
"Yeah. I've tried to be a friend to her, and help her out. Give her all the advantages I never had. Help her be popular, which I never was. Maybe I should have been stricter." Janice said, bringing her arms down and turning to face Roger. "Ready."
"You look delicious," Roger told her, and she knew he meant it. "Let's get going - I want to make sure everything's in place before the clients arrive."
When he placed his hand on her upper arm, it nearly undid her. Her legs grew wobbly and she almost fell off her 3 inch heels. She never could get used to those things.
Oddly, as they headed out the door, she thought of Harold. She felt bad. Not for what she was considering doing here, maybe that very night. No. She'd left him with a spoiled, out of control brat for the summer, and she was hoping beyond hope that somehow he'd be able to reel her in, get her under control, help her straighten out her life. She could privately admit she was mostly responsible for the way things had ended up with Heather. And now it seemed like it was too late. As a mother she was a failure.
Perhaps taking the summer off between jobs would be Ok, if it meant he could dedicate some of that time to a last ditch effort to help their only child. She wasn't a bad kid. Not really. Was she?
* * *
"What?" her voice let him know this was a horrible time to interrupt her, in the middle of a TIVO'd episode of Sex & the City.
"You're not just going to sit around and do nothing all day, every day. With your mother gone, we both have to pick up the slack. I expect you to do the laundry, keep the place generally neat and clean, and do the dishes."
"Jesus! Do I have to do everything with Mom gone?" Heather griped.
"I'll deal with the shopping, the cooking, the trash, the yard, and house maintenance, and, oh yeah, the bills. Breakfast and lunch, you're on your own, but I'll take care of dinner. Got it?"
"Fine. Whatever." She said, turning away and taking the show off pause.
Harold ignored the blatant disrespect, and returned to his study where he unlocked the door, and carefully locked it behind him.
Finally. His sanctuary. The one place where he had a little privacy and didn't have to listen to the bitching and moaning. He turned on his computer, entered his password, and opened his browser. Time for a little well earned relaxation.
Heather wasn't too worried. Her conniving little mind was already hatching a plan. A bad plan. She was a bad girl, after all. Everybody said so.
* * *
When her father went out shopping, warning her to get the laundry started if she didn't want to lose some more privileges, she was up from her perch in front of the TV like a sprinter out of the blocks.
She ran and dumped an armful of clothes in the washer, and turned it on. There. Now he couldn't complain.
Then she headed straight for his 'study'.
She giggled to herself as she pulled out her key-chain and quickly unlocked his door. When he'd installed the new lock on his office several weeks ago, she'd taken the packaging out of the trash and headed down to the hardware store. The guy at the key machine was happy to make a key for her, based on the code of the tumbler.
She'd be damned if she'd let him keep a locked room in the house without knowing what was going on there.
The computer was a different problem. She'd tried guessing at his password but no such luck. A few minutes on-line with some friends and acquaintances and she had a couple of new approaches lined up. Now was her chance to test them.
Expecting to be working at this for a while, she was amazed when the very first suggestion worked. Hitting CTRL-ALT-DEL at the login screen popped up a login window. She entered "administrator" as she'd been told, without a password, and - miracle-of-miracles - she was in, with full access! Two minutes later, following the instructions on her cheat sheet, the administrator account had a password, her password, and she had unlimited access.
She pulled out the USB flashdrive, with all the software she'd been given for this task, and ran the first two programs. Just like that, his entire Internet browser was backed up to her little device. Another click and she was running her own browser, with all his bookmarks, history, saved passwords, cookies, and more.
Now to see what the old man was up to....
* * *
"OH, GROSS!" she exclaimed, actually turning away from the screen. She'd been able to bring up his browser and visit the sites in his browser history. THAT was an education.
She was getting nervous, he wouldn't be gone much longer. She shut down everything, pulled her flashdrive and shut things down. Locking the door behind her, her mind was still reeling with the new found knowledge.
There had to be a way to use this. Maybe this wasn't going to be such a bad summer after all...
* * *
Harold was pleasantly surprised by his daughter's new behavior. She'd accepted her responsibilities, performed her chores with minimal complaint, and was able to converse without obvious condescension.
She'd also started taking care of herself again; cleaning up each morning, and wearing nicer clothes, not sweats and dirty t-shirts. He wondered what had gotten into her.
For the past few days, she'd slowly cleaned up her act. She still could be slow to respond to his questions, and she'd put off her chores until the last minute, but they were getting done. She'd even stopped whining about how bad her life was.
The change was so noticeable, he'd even brought it up with his wife on their nightly call. Janice's suggestion had been to give her room and show a little appreciation. He thought he'd give it a try.
"You don't think she's up to something, do you?" Harold asked, still a little wary of her behavior.
"Hard to say, maybe she's realizing that her past behavior was getting her nowhere. Do you still have her grounded, and cell phone taken away?"
"Yeah, but I'm thinking if she can keep this up a while, I might slowly start loosening the reins. How's things at your end?"
Janice had to stifle a giggle. Her 'end' was doing just fine. Roger's hands were fondling her there, and she could feel him trying to nuzzle up behind her and slide his huge cock back inside her. She slapped him away, teasingly.
"Just fine here," she answered. "It sounds like you've got things under control. I'm glad."
She gasped a bit as Roger got a little more insistent, lifting her leg high and jabbing into her. Even after the recent pounding, he still felt enormous entering her. She couldn't believe she'd ever get used to it.
"You Ok?" Harold asked, hearing the sharp intake of breath.
"Oh! I just stubbed my toe. Gotta go sweetie, we're having drinks with the client in just a few."
"I miss you." Harold said, meaning it.
"Me too baby, love ya, bye-bye."
* * *
Harold's political aspirations were taking a turn for the better, after working his network, and calling all the local party groups. He was scheduled to go in to talk to some movers-and-shakers the next day. Things were certainly moving along better in his life. He just wished Janice was around to share it with. They'd never been apart for more than a week before. At over three weeks now, he felt lonelier then he had in years. If not for his daughter, that is.
Even Heather was becoming less of a pain, and more of the little girl he recalled so fondly.
Over lunch, which they'd eaten together for the first time he could remember, Heather confessed.
"I've been thinking about things, about my future, and I've really been messing up. I'm going to try to do better."
Harold was slightly taken aback. "You haven't been that bad, nothing we can't recover from. I'll help you in any way I can, you know that."
"I know. Lynn's been telling me that I'm spoiled rotten. She'd never get away with the stuff I've done. Last time she got home past her curfew, she could barely sit the next day."
Harold found his palms itching. Lynn? Barely sit? Jesus! That's a dream come true.