by Jamie Knight
him the Dirty Bastard. He doesn’t like it very much. ;)
I couldn’t quite remember when I’d first started thinking of my stepdad as ‘the dirty bastard.’ It was probably around the time I learned the word for what he was doing. Besides which, he used to call me ‘little slut,’ so it was fair.
I found a robe in the standing wardrobe which had a distinct C.S. Lewis vibe to it. I would never have taken Joshua as a nerd, but anything was possible. Sleek and silky, the robe wrapped me in midnight black.
I left the suit on under it. My master hadn’t given permission to take it off. Besides, I wouldn’t have the first idea where to start.
The rap was light as though it had come from a ghost. For some reason, the word ‘nevermore’ flashed through my mind as I went to answer it. The lovely example of wood carving opened to a sight right out of a novel.
She was maybe 19. Skinny, pretty, with fire red hair tied in a severe bun. Her smooth, young body was contained in what almost looked like a parody of the cliché French maid’s outfit. Like a Victorian house maid, only a lot less sexy. My master certainly had style.
“Dinner, madam,” she said softly, eyes on the floor.
I wondered if Josuha put his staff through the same obedience training as his pets, though I didn’t think so. She really didn’t look like his type, as far as I was qualified to tell.
Maybe that was the point. Joshua was too gentle to be beating her, so it was most likely she was of a naturally quiet and submissive disposition.
“What’s your name?” I asked, before I could stop myself.
“M-M-Molly, madam,” she stammered out.
I put a hand under her chin and lifted her eyes to mine. They looked haunted, as I’d suspected. Joshua wasn’t hurting Molly but somebody had and badly. I couldn’t know for sure, but I had a sense then.
There was something about Joshua I’d never noticed before. He had a need to discipline, that much was clear. Did he also have a proclivity to protect?
Was he a ‘daddy,’ like I’d heard some girls at the club call him, in the best possible sense?
Stern with those who needed correction and soft with those who needed help?
I took the tray from Molly after thanking her and headed back to the bed, leaving her to decide if the door was to be left open or not. There was no chance I was going against my master’s will and I didn’t want to accidentally give the impression I was closing the door in her face.
I could smell the food through the shiny lid. It didn’t seem like that was something that should be possible but there it was. Sweet smells seeped through solid shiny silver.
My tummy started to grumble for attention and I tried to remember the last time I had eaten. Like a magician revealing a trick, I swept the lid from the luscious loot. I could feel my tongue wet my lips like it had when I first saw my master’s beautiful cock. Though what was on the silver platter seemed like it would be easier to get in my mouth.
The cook, or should I say the chef, had gone with mostly vegetarian options. The bone white platter, which looked like it had elements of iron at its base, was an explosion of different colors. Bright and vivid.
Each item seeming to stand alone, even when clustered in a group, like the vibrant green peas and almost psychedelic yellow corn. There was meat too, but it was subtle, constituting no less than three types of fish and two barn yard options.
I should have been ecstatic. Food and sex, in that order, were rapidly becoming my two favorite things, food being there long before sex.
But without Joshua there, there was a hole in my being that I just couldn’t fill. No matter how huge or delicious the feast laid before me. It wasn’t just my sex holes I wanted filled by my master but the ones in my heart and my soul.
The food was gone quickly. I didn’t want to be eating when my master came back for me. Cleaning my plate like a good girl, I put the whole kit and caboodle on the bedside table, to make room for him.
Leaving the robe on, because he hadn’t told me I could take it off, I lay back on my bed, waiting for him to return and use me as he wished.
Just to make things clear, I angled myself toward the camera, on the off chance he was watching from wherever the food went, and opened my legs wide, the robe coming open at the bottom, giving the electronic eye a full view of everything I had down there.
I was hoping he would see I was ready for him.
I was ready for him.
Ready for anything.
Except for the nothing that was to come.
Chapter Eleven - Joshua
It was going to be a good day. The investors, who could be stroppy at the best of times, finally understood the value of my presence in the president’s office.
I had started the company after all. It only stood to reason that I might know a thing or two. A predictable fact that was given final evidence by the project I’d started. It was going to be big. Something no tech company had attempted since Microsoft back in its heyday.
The media were already calling me the new Bill Gates. I wasn’t quite sure if that was a compliment but the commentators seemed to think it was, so I just let it happen.
It had been a long road with more than a few setbacks, but we were finally on the path to victory. It wasn’t the first time. Not by a long shot. Still, it was a trek that had yet to lose any of its appeal.
The wheels squeaked as I rolled the chair away from the desk. Within seconds, there they were, in actual size and in living color, displayed on the wall sized screen. The screen had been my idea, as was the particular network being used to beam their images into my office from all corners of the globe, with instant and accurate subtitles coming up when needed.
I was going to be on the news soon to announce the project I had been working on and, perfectionist that I was, I wanted to make sure that everything was going smoothly before that happened. Even though it was something I had certainly done before. Media appearances in my line of work were about as common as general meetings in others.
I wasn’t actually sure what time it was for everyone when the call started. At least not in New York. It was important to try and find a time that wouldn’t be ungodly for everyone else. The last thing I needed was for them to be tired and cranky.
On my end it was so late it counted as early. At least according to the insanity of the standard time zones. One of the greatest drawbacks to the modern, American businessman. Even more than the I.R.S. or anti-trust laws. Neither of which I really minded much, outside of the aspect of government control.
I had no problem with an agreed-on administration and organization by consent. It was when those in power started to see their position as some kind of “right” that things tended to go pear-shaped. At least, if the Civil War is anything to go by.
The English Civil War, in any case. Pretty much anything America did politically, Europe did first. Including going to a cash economy and abolishing slavery.
The news was good. It was written on their faces. No new glitches or gremlins had come about since the last round of testing. They were all about to get a lot more money to add to their already obscene fortunes.
It made me a little sick in a way. ‘Pot meet kettle,’ as my sister would say. It was true. I did like having the money. It gave me a sense of security and true freedom, the only real freedom to be had in a capitalist democracy being financial freedom.
I could buy whatever I needed and pay to make any problem go away. Even then I still had a ridiculous amount left over. Most of the excess I gave to charity. No doubt another reason for the Gates comparison.
There were others who seemed to have their entire sense of their manhood if not their identity twisted up in their financial sense. Like they would be eunuchs, or even worse, non-entities, if they ever stopped bringing in more money than any mere, foolish mortal could possibly spend in ten lifetimes.
A few of them, I happened to know, could, and in fact did, own en
tire countries. Small countries, but still.
The screen went black, casting them from my domain, my mind at ease that everything would go swimmingly. I showed little sign of it on the outside, my poker face cultivated from years of practice, but I was very happy.
Happy and horny.
It was time to visit my little pet again. My cock was already hard by the time I got to her door.
I would have to be careful or I might end up fucking her before she was ready. I resolved to focus my attentions on breaking Celeste in and getting her to be the best she could be.
She was already awake when I went in. I’d waited until she’d fallen asleep the night before, watching her through the camera. It had taken a while for her to drift off, but she seemed to sleep soundly when she did. No signs of any nightmares, which was good.
I didn’t think she would have any, but it was still something to watch for. I could tell there was something wrong. Some trauma she was hiding. Like I had been able to tell with Molly. There was something about trauma that left a mark. Even if it was a psychic one.
“Master!”
“Come,” I said, evenly.
Indeed, she did. My little pet all but ran to me. Then she dropped to her knees and kissed my feet in thanks for returning to her.
“That is a much better attitude. Certainly better than last night. Are you sorry for disobeying?”
“Yes, master. Very much!”
“Are ready to do things properly, without backtalk or attitude?”
“Yes, master.”
She sounded so certain, but I was less so. I knew she was a fighter and had resistance in her soul. Though it was good that she was at least willing to try being more submissive.
“Come,” I said, taking her by the hand.
Leading her over to a specially designed chair, I sat down and started untying my pet’s robe. She didn’t move as it fell away, leaving her only in the suit. As a test, I slipped a finger into her pussy and felt around, making her gasp as I did so.
“Have you been touching yourself?” I asked, my finger still deep in her depths.
“No, master.”
I searched her eyes, looking for a lie, but found none.
“Good. You need my permission to do that.”
“Of course, master. I didn’t, I swear I didn’t.”
“You’re really wet,” I observed.
“For you, master. Only for you.”
“Good. It is time for your next lesson.”
I got her into position and put her over my lap. Her pussy and ass were in the air. Giving her ass a few gentle strokes and some harder squeezes, I let in with a spank. Not a hard or particularly harsh one. I used the flat of my hand and went straight down so it was more of a hard pat.
My brave little pet scarcely reacted. I was mostly still trying to break her in. Get her used to my style of play. She didn’t seem to mind at all.
She did really well through the spanking and I decided to reward her with some oral. Leaving her where she was, prone across my lap, I leaned down and ran my tongue the length of her glistening pussy.
She was even more wet than before. She’d liked what I’d done to her ass and I was glad for that. I lapped at her sweet, tender lips until she was getting very close to orgasm. Then, I stopped, following through with a hard spank that made her yelp.
“No, not yet.”
“But it feels so good!”
“Glad to hear it but you need to learn some self-control. You are not to cum until I say you can. If you start to come before I say you can, you get spanked, got it?”
“Yes, master.”
I started again by getting her relaxed and ready with my fingers. When she was wet and tender, I started to lick again, going slower, gliding my tongue along her sweetness. I intentionally avoided her clit, which I’d found out was exceptionally sensitive. This could be an advantage in the right context, though she needed to be able to control herself first.
It took longer the second time. I patiently licked and slurped and sucked until she was again tipping on the edge of a massive orgasm. Again, I stopped cold, planting a hard, harsh spank on her round ass. A crimson handprint rose up on her flesh.
She let out a short, sharp cry at the moment of impact. Though other than that, she took the strike with stoicism.
I stroked her ass, proud of her. She was already doing better and was starting to take strikes properly. Wasting no time, I dove back in, hard and intense, burying my face in her sweet little cunt, making her gasp shortly with surprise as well as pleasure.
I wanted to see exactly how much she could take.
Chapter Twelve - Celeste
My heart had skipped as the door opened. I could only think that the isolation had been part of the punishment. He’d left me in the room for a while before coming in the night before too.
It made sense in a way and I had to admit was very effective. I never wanted him to leave again. I was also so glad to see him the next morning that I was willing to let him do anything to me, as long as he didn’t leave me again. I was even getting to enjoy the harsh spankings. His touch, even if it caused pain, was enough for me.
I held my breath a little when he put me over his lap, not quite sure what to expect. Well, I did a little. I knew he was going to spank me but, as I was learning, there were very different kinds of spanks and not all of them hurt.
Far from it, in fact. Some of them actually felt really good— more like pats or grabs. Particularly when he would cup his hand slightly and spank with an upward movement. I tried not to let him know how good it felt. Just in case he stopped. Then the licking started.
I’d never really had my pussy eaten. Not properly. Mark wouldn’t go near it, always insisting I suck him off. He was a greedy bastard that way. I thought maybe that out of the many other club members he would let use me, without my consent, more might try, but not many really did.
Mark had been like my stepdad in a lot of ways. Using me just for what pleasure he could get out of my body.
To his credit, at least I was an adult when I was with Mark. I honestly didn’t think he would have been interested if I wasn’t. Mike was a bit of a bastard, but he wasn’t a fucking bastard.
I closed my eyes and tied to focus on what Joshua was doing to me. Which was filling me with pleasure and light. Only striking me when needed. Even then, not so hard that it would do any real, lasting harm.
What he was really doing was for my own good. Aside from the blowjob, which I had really enjoyed too, he hadn’t really asked for anything from me. At least not in terms of satisfying him.
The only thing he asked for was my obedience. Something I was increasingly willing to give. Despite the rebel in me kicking up on occasion.
My heart grew warm with affection. In a weird way, Joshua was more like a dad than my stepdad. Caring for and nurturing me into my new life as a pet. Like my birth dad had tried to do with life in general before…
I tried not to think about it.
It was too scary, too dark.
There were some who wouldn’t know their ass from a hole in the ground that might say the early trauma was what made me submissive. I was no psychologist, but neither were they and it was still bullshit either way.
Kink was a part of me. Part of my wiring, yes, but it was there from the beginning. Like love and hate come from the same basic intense emotion, pleasure and pain come from a similar source, there being an endorphin rush in either case.
I wasn’t sure what it was with masters or doms, but with subs it was mostly that a spanking, if done right, could feel as good, or at least have a similar chemical effect, as a lick.
He was licking me again. Getting me very close to orgasm. It felt like a big one too. I loved everything he was doing but just wished he would let me cum.
It was like I was levitating. It took a moment before I realized he was carrying me. He held me tight to his chest. Setting me on a padd
ed table that looked like a cross, he lay me face down with my ass up before securing my wrists in the restraints. The restraints were padded leather and felt a lot better than the metal cuffs Mark would put me in.
My master went back around and shifted my position. Bending my knees so I was up in a doggy position, with my arms tied down on either side of me. Lightly fingering my pussy, he gave my ass a beating with his big hard cock, which was surprisingly heavy.
Suddenly he stopped and I thought he might fuck me. Instead, he started licking me again, even more intensely than before.
Within seconds I was almost coming. I tried to hold on, but it was impossible. It felt too good and I completely lost control of myself. Despite my master telling me of the need for self-discipline. I was disobeying him, and he was going to punish me. Probably severely.
“I hope you enjoyed disobeying me,” he said, when I was finished coming, “because you are really going to be punished now.”
I wanted to say no. No, I hadn’t enjoyed disobeying him. It was an accident and beyond my control.
I kept quiet though, not convinced it would work. If anything, it might sound like backtalk and make him angrier. I figured it was best to keep quiet and accept my punishment, vowing to do better next time
I couldn’t see what was happening, but I heard a drawer of heavy sounding tools being opened. Selecting his weapon of choice, my master closed the drawer and came back to the cross I was strapped to. No doubt ready to cause some pain. I closed my eyes and held my breath, preparing for the worst.
The first strike echoed through the room. Nearly drowned out by my scream. I knew the feeling all too well from when I would be spanked with a wooden spoon, my stepdad holding me down and beating my bare ass until I cried. All as an excuse for why I would be on my bed with my pants down in case my mom came in.
He still came at night but soon started trying during the day when mom was at work after he’d lost his job. He turned really nasty then. Beating me until I was a sobbing mess before molesting me more with his finger. I kept worrying he might put more than that in me, but he never did. Probably because he knew he would be caught.