She had expected to be given the usual fare for females, which were the State sanctioned MREs left over from the old military establishment. They were barely edible, nutritionally balanced crap, but they lasted forever – no refrigeration required – and they were made in handy-dandy single serving packets. Yuck. No one who had ever eaten one could reasonably consider it to be a substitute for real food.
That first night, he informed her that she would have chores to do around the house starting next week, but for now, she was to rest as much as possible. Indeed, he was constantly tucking her into bed and popping that disturbingly soothing pacifier-gag into her mouth. She had asked him Thursday when he was putting her down for a short morning nap if she was required to use the pacifier, and he replied that she wasn't, but then, for whatever reason, she hadn't gotten much sleep during that nap, and he had noticed, of course. He noticed everything. So when he guided her to his bedroom later that day for her afternoon nap, he pressed it into her mouth, making her wiggle a little in mute protest.
"It helps you sleep, baby girl." He patted her bare bottom gently and that was that.
At one point that evening, after dinner, he had asked her a question that truly scared her. "Katherine, do you know how to read?" Joseph assumed he already knew the answer, but he wanted her to trust him and tell him herself.
Prima wanted to answer him, badly. Her mouth was open, but the truth was too terrifying to come out. Few women who could read were left; those who had been discovered reading had had their eyes put out with hot pokers to discourage them from ever doing so again. Braille documents and audio materials were practically non-existent, even for males, so the problem was considered solved. A smart woman played dumb, always.
They were been sitting companionably in his living room, Joseph in a very old, decrepit LazyBoy recliner and Prima on a stack of very comfortable pillows at his feet, listening to some of the same music he had played for her to calm her after one of her first spankings. It was something classical that she couldn't name, but it was hauntingly beautiful, and she was just allowing herself to relax and drift along with the melody.
But his question had brought her to full alert. Joseph reached down and lifted her onto his lap with extraordinary ease. As she sat on him, he pressed her back against his chest, silently encouraging her lean on him.
Gingerly, she did so, but she had not decided how she was going to answer him when he began to speak again.
"I understand why you're hesitating, little girl. And you can take your time and answer me any way you feel you need to, although, I would hope that you would trust me enough to be truthful with me. You are mine, Prima." His arms tightened around her pleasantly. "I take care of what's mine in what's left of this world, and I would never condone what is currently being done to women who break that stupid law." He felt her swallow, but she remained stiff in his arms, despite the fact that his hand had begun to stroke slowly up and down her arm. "Keep something in mind, though: if you tell me that you can't read, and I discover at any point later on that you can, you will be punished very severely for lying to me." He was discovering that she responded well to his touch – it gentled her when she was nervous, and although he knew she didn't like it, he knew that the binky did the same thing for her. "How about if I go get your pacifier?" He moved as if he would put her down and get up, but she clung to him.
"Please, Sir?" Prima boldly captured his hand and put it back to where he had been rubbing her slowly.
Joseph sank back down into the chair with his delicate bundle, taking up where he left off, running his hand gently but firmly from just above the swell of her hip to just below her left shoulder blade then back again. In a few minutes, she pressed her face against his neck, and he felt her body relax.
When she spoke, her voice was high-pitched, like the little girl he often likened her to. "Yes, Sir," she whispered. "I can read."
He released a breath he hadn't known he was holding, hugging her lightly and rocking them both in the big chair in silence for a long moment. Although he would probably never acknowledge it, Joseph's heart was lost just then; she felt so good in his arms, and he hadn't even fully possessed or punished her yet. He enjoyed having the responsibility of her care, and she, in turn, had proven in a very short time to be very solicitous of his wants and needs with no prompting from him and with no bad attitude or sarcasm.
"Would you like me to read to you, baby girl?" She nodded vigorously against his neck, and he stretched to grab the book he'd been reading: Shakespeare's 'Taming of the Shrew', a revised, State-sanctioned manual on how to handle a woman.
Joseph read her several pages from the play, then looked at his watch and stood her up next to him. "Time for your bath, Prima."
It was only seven o'clock, and Prima was a terrible night owl. She knew she was going to have a very hard time with the early bedtime he was insisting upon. He drew her bath and popped her into it, washing her with humiliating thoroughness. Prima found herself between the sheets before she knew it, her eyes big and round as he stripped off and followed her, positioning himself up between her legs with no preamble – he didn't need one – he'd been hard since he'd seen her picture weeks ago. Having her here in his house only served to make him want her that much more. Joseph had held himself back as long as he could – hell, ninety-nine percent of men nowadays wouldn't have held off long enough for the deliveryman to have left the driveway, but he was not an animal. He controlled his urges, not the other way around. Although he was certainly capable of taking her without her consent, and there would be times in the future when he would do just that, there was enough of his former self still in residence that he didn't want that to be her first impression of him.
Moving very little, he reached into a drawer beside his bed and withdrew a tube of something, which he rubbed on himself and between her legs. Prima started when she felt his big fingers invade an area on her body that no one else had ever touched. "Easy, now, girl," he soothed automatically. "Stay still."
Oh, she didn't think she could and was afraid of the consequences if she couldn't. Those fingers were spreading a slick liquid all over the soft folds between her legs, before one of them tried to press up into her. Reflexively, Prima tried to close her legs and roll away, but he was too big for her to do either of those things successfully. Pushing on his shoulders with all her strength had the same result – none.
"Shh-shh-shh." His whispers went unheeded as she became increasingly agitated when it became apparent there was nothing she could do to stop him. So that she wouldn't hurt herself, he caught both of her wrists in one of his and held them above her head until he'd locked them into soft but strong leather cuffs that were chained to the wall behind the bed.
Prima had to swallow back a plea to him not to hurt her as tears of helplessness and humiliation leaked into her hair. Instead, she tried desperately to remain still, hoping against hope that he wouldn't do what she knew he was going to do.
A thick, rough middle finger again parted her intimate folds and began to press into her, encountering almost immediate resistance. She was, indeed, a virgin, and well-seated at that. Joseph grunted with pleasure at the idea that he would be the only man to have her, to train her, and, perhaps, to breed her.
But this was going to hurt her, and he did regret that. If he could have taken the pain upon himself, he would have. She'd done nothing to deserve the pain, in fact, she should have received a great reward for maintaining her chastity. He filed that thought away for another time. Right now, he meant to taste his little woman, in more ways than one.
Having prepared himself and her – well, her less so that he would have wanted, but he couldn't wait long enough to do it properly – Joseph gathered her legs over his elbows as he leaned forward and placed himself at her virgin entrance. Prima's eyes were closed, but tears dribbled down the sides of her face.
"Katherine?"
Her eyes flew open and locked with his.
"I want you to keep yo
ur eyes open, honey." The rusty endearment fell from his lips without thought. "And on me. This is going to hurt you, and I'm sorry about that. I'll make it up to you, I promise." He saw the surprise in her expression. "You'll have enough pain in this life. This shouldn't be part of it."
Joseph felt that the most humane thing to do was not to draw it out but rather to take her with one hard plunge and get it over with all at once. But, despite his strength, his girth and length conspired against him considering her incredible tightness. She had yelped on his first stabbing attempt, arching wildly as if to try to throw him off, but had not emitted a sound in the next two tries that it took for him to bury himself within her. She had closed her eyes at first but opened them immediately afterwards and kept them opened on the second and final thrusts, tears running rivulets into her hair.
He was entirely unable to keep himself from continuing to drive himself into her, no matter how much he had intended to stop and ask her if she was all right. He reached his end in a humiliatingly short time, but then, the humiliation was all his, as she would never know that he had a serious lack of control over his ejaculation.
When it was over, Joseph laid his head on her breast and tried to regain control of his breathing.
"May I close my eyes, Sir?" she asked.
Could he detect a note of sarcasm in her voice, or was he imagining it, he wondered, lifting his head to catch her eye until hers quickly darted away from his. "Yes."
She did so immediately, and he watched as she swallowed hard and convulsed a little beneath him, obviously suppressing sobs as more tears squeezed out. Slowly, spent, he reached up and released her wrists. She didn't move or acknowledge that she was now free in any way, her arms in the same position, bound or unbound. Joseph rolled to one side so that he was lying on his back, his chest still heaving like a bellows as he tried to catch his breath. Silence reigned for a long while, until he glanced over to reassure himself that she was all right. She looked like she was asleep, but the small clenched fists she'd positioned protectively over her chest gave her away. Her body fairly vibrated with suppressed energy, and he suddenly had a thought.
Turning to her, he asked, "Do you want to hurt me? Maybe knee me in the balls a time or two?"
"No, Sir," came the rote reply.
He kissed the soft skin of her shoulder, feeling the rigidity of the underlying muscle. "Tell me the truth," he warned, watching her consciously relax herself.
"No, Sir," she repeated.
Joseph turned her chin towards him, and still, she didn't open her eyes. "Look at me." She obeyed instantly, her expression a cautious blank. "I'm very sorry that it hurt you. It won't hurt like that again, I promise."
"Yes, Sir." A respectful, emotionless, and wholly annoying response.
Joseph frowned. He'd never wanted an automaton. Maybe what she needed was to experience some of the pleasures of sex. He wondered how responsive she'd be. Probably not very, given the fact that she was still hurting. And also given the fact that no one else in twenty-nine years had held much temptation for her. She'd been completely untried, and that didn't say much about her level of sexual interest.
But now, he was curious and would have to find out. "Put your hands above your head." The wariness in her eyes spoke volumes, although she remained quiet and obeyed him. Joseph replaced the shackles he had just removed. He wanted no maidenly interference from her. Without saying a word, he set about testing her responses, gratified and pleased when his first taste of her blushing pink nipples tore a moan from her throat, which she quickly suppressed.
"No." He crisply swatted the breast he had just suckled, drawing a yelp from her. "If you find pleasure in what I'm doing to you, I want to hear it. If you find pain, I want to hear it. You are not to hide any of your responses, do you understand?" Joseph watched her swallow hard, but she did not answer him immediately, earning herself another sharp smack to her tender flesh.
"Aaie! Yes, Sir, yes, Sir, I'm sorry!"
He returned to what he had been doing before, as if the exchange had never happened, gently teasing and tugging that tight tip. Prima began squirming, and he could hear her panting breath as she moaned lightly. Oh, he had been well and truly wrong about her! Joseph moved to the other nipple and gave it the same treatment while he used his fingers to worry the poor orphaned nub.
Her response was volcanic – she bucked and twisted, and her head moved restlessly back and forth…it was incredible to watch her come apart under his hands!
"Puh-puhleze!" she moaned, not really knowing what she was asking for. "W-What are you doing do me?" Prima did not like this, not one bit. The pain she could tolerate. It was no more and no less than she had expected. It fit right into her knowledge of what was going to happen to her once she was left to any man's mercy.
But this – this was entirely unexpected – and entirely unwanted! She couldn't cope – couldn't process what he was doing to her that was making her entire body ache all at once, but mostly at the apex between her thighs where he had so recently spent himself and brought her considerable pain. What was this?
Her father had not been able to speak to her of sex, but he had his woman do it for him. Tyra had impressed on Prima that there would be pain, but she had never mentioned this mind-blowing pleasure.
Joseph's mouth began a rapid descent down her tummy as he put himself back into that now disturbingly familiar position between her legs. But this time, his head was where his male part had been, His hands crept under her to clutch her bottom and lift her hips, presenting her feminine secrets to him as if they were delicacies being offered up to a wrathful God. Two gel-slick fingers insinuated themselves into her sore passage, making her whine in an unbecoming manner while pulling at her bonds. "Ah, yes, Prima, you must be full before you can reach your pleasure. Full of me or my fingers or something else…but full and stretched. I know it hurts a little now, but you'll soon forget the pain, I promise."
Prima had her doubts, but when his lips captured a scrap of flesh she hadn't known she possessed until a few minutes ago and licked it over and over again, she ceased doubting him. He seemed to know her body better than she did, and he was using that knowledge to drive her towards something – there had to be an end to this frightening pleasure or she would go crazy! Even the slow, hard rhythm of those incessant fingers – in and out, in and out, stimulating her sore flesh, forcing her to accommodate his invasion, until even the pain seemed pleasurable – contributed to the fever of her flesh.
Joseph opened his mouth wide and settled it over her swollen clitty, suckling it in wetly, feeling it throb against his tongue. She was very close, he could feel it. Joseph redoubled his efforts and increased the strength of his thrusts until she screamed and sobbed her way over the edge. He was filled with an immense feeling of satisfaction as he made her ride out every last drop of that orgasm, keeping her writhing on his fingers and mouth until he thought she was spent.
Then, hard as a spike again, he indulged himself for the second time, knowing it would be the last for a while as he let her heal. Joseph couldn't believe it, but she even seemed to enjoy that. He caught her indrawn breath as he pressed into her slowly, but there were no tears and there were even a few moans when he began a hard-driving rhythm of thrusts, and when he trapped a nipple against his teeth. Joseph still found his release in record time, but he knew that would change as his body began to realize he could have her any time – and in any way – he wanted. It was an extra-added bonus that she was capable of extraordinary pleasure, and that would add to both her pleasure and her pain.
Chapter Three
The next night, she made a wonderful dinner for him. H
He began to realize that he had gotten a bargain after all, even though he thought she had been somewhat distant towards him all day, reacting warily and almost frightened sometimes. Afterwards, he settled down at his desk, musing that another thing that had survived the planet-wide holocaust was paperwork. It was nearly seven when he realized that she was
nowhere to be seen. He hadn't given her any orders about what she should be doing, and when he looked into the kitchen, it had been cleaned up from dinner. Prima was not in the den, or the living room, or his office. He finally found her, only because he looked into the bedroom, expecting to see her asleep on the bed, but instead, he heard soft whimpering from the attached bathroom.
"Prima?" The bathroom door was unlocked – it damned well better be, he thought errantly – and he entered to find her sitting on the commode, her face buried in her hands, sobbing as if her heart were going to break. It was his turn to swallow hard.
He reacted purely on instinct from the Before Time, gathering her up in his arms, quelling her struggles when she tried to resist, and carrying her into the bedroom to sit with her on his lap as he rested against the headboard.
Prima couldn't seem to stop crying – it was incredibly embarrassing to cry in front of the man who owned her now, body and soul, who could pleasure her body, make it surrender intimately, or punish her very severely. She just felt very out of control and very alone and unhappy, but how could she say that to him? And if she did somehow get up the nerve to do so, would he punish her for her very thoughts? She didn't know him well enough to know the answers to her questions.
At first, Joseph was beside himself, wondering if something was seriously wrong with her. As he held her, though, he asked all the pertinent questions he could come up with. Are you sick? Do you hurt anywhere? She barely mumbled answers through the storm of tears, and it was her tone and demeanor that gave him more information than her replies. It had, indeed, been a long while since he'd been around a woman, and he was remembering that sometimes they cried for their own reasons – be it hormonal in cause or just emotional – reasons that no human male, even Einstein or Stephen Hawkins, could ever truly comprehend.
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