by Emily Tilton
“Did you do that, little one?”
The disappointment in her master’s voice turned Molly’s mouth into a pouting bow.
“Yes, Sir,” she said, turning around with the ottoman and starting to bring it back.
“I don’t understand,” Emma said in a pleading little voice. “What do you mean? What kind of power?”
“All in good time, Emma,” Daniel said. “What’s important for you to understand now is that in my house, the gifts I give are to be used properly, and with my permission. When a young lady under my protection violates my trust as Molly did, she feels the consequences on her bare backside, as you will, too, if you misbehave. Discipline is very important to me: when a girl needs a lesson in my house, she gets it.”
Molly risked a glance at Emma’s face: the look of erotic distress upon it—pink cheeks, bitten lip, furrowed brow—seemed like a renaissance painting of a modest virgin confronted with true sexual temptation for the first time.
She put the ottoman down a few feet away from the cage, then stood next to it, with her hands on her head and her eyes downcast.
“Wh-why is she doing that?” Emma asked, and now Molly heard a note of fascination alongside the quivering embarrassment. Between Molly’s own legs, she felt a terrible warmth simply at the way the new girl in the cage had spoken of her in the third person.
Daniel now stood upright and walked the two steps to stand next to Molly. She heard Emma give a little gasp as he put his big hand on her bottom, and she pictured how it must look to a girl who had never seen another girl naked, let alone with her hands on her head, and a big man next to her, touching her.
Daniel’s hand’s gesture of possession must have made Emma look at the region between waist and knees. There she must have seen again how bare Molly was down there, and how the tender cleft of her pussy just peeped out between her thighs. Since taking off her nightgown, Molly had caught several of Emma’s furtive glances at her new friend’s pussy, but Emma had always looked immediately away before. Now Molly felt sure she couldn’t look away, commanded by Daniel’s masterful hand upon the bottom he intended to paddle.
“This is the way a young lady stands when she is going to be punished,” Daniel said. “Putting her hands on her head helps Molly understand that she forfeited her right to cover herself when she misbehaved. I want you to think carefully about what it means that you and Molly are naked while I am clothed, little one. You will have a nightgown like Molly’s soon, but that nightgown is meant to make you feel even more unclothed, because it is made for me to raise, so that I may play with you, and punish you when necessary.”
Molly heard Emma’s breathing grow harsher and harsher as Daniel instructed her in the ways of his house: quick puffs through her nose that seemed almost to convey to Molly’s ears the thumping of the caged girl’s heart, too. She studied the lovely red oriental rug of Daniel’s den as she felt the color mounting her own cheeks as she realized that Emma could probably see her arousal glistening on her thighs.
“My young ladies are under my protection for their pleasure and their education,” Daniel said slowly, as if wanting to make sure Emma absorbed every word.
“Education?” she whispered.
“A very unusual kind of education,” Daniel said. Molly could hear his dominant smile in his voice, now. Her heart leapt simply because she loved to know he took pleasure in something, whether that pleasure involved her body or a work of art—or the way he looked at her as if her body were a work of art. “A kind that might also be called civilization or even taming. I have started to tame my Molly, and soon I shall begin to tame my Emma.”
A little whimper came from Emma at that, so much like a puppy’s that Molly had no choice but to risk a glance at her face. The redheaded girl’s face had gone bright red, and her nose twitched not like a puppy’s but like a bunny’s. The furrow in her brow seemed terribly deep, and now Molly wondered if she had caught on the air the scent of a girl’s arousal slightly different from her own, which she also realized she could smell.
“Eyes down, little one,” Daniel said sternly, and Molly obeyed, looking again at the rug.
He addressed Emma again. “I think you must have noticed that Molly doesn’t have her pussy hair anymore. Tomorrow you’ll be sent to a salon for a full wax of your own.”
“Oh, no… please,” Emma whispered, but again she sounded entranced—just as Molly remembered being, the first time Daniel had told her about the baring of her pussy. Being waxed had been so embarrassing, but now she felt so proud that she looked the way her master wanted her to look between her legs.
“Part of taming a young lady, for me, is grooming her, as a man grooms a beloved pet.”
Emma swallowed very audibly.
“Is… is that what the c-cage is for, too… Sir?” Molly had to fight the urge to look up again: Emma’s voice sounded so meek and submissive now that she wanted to share a smile.
“Exactly, Emma,” Daniel said, clearly very pleased. “I think I can tell you now that all this started yesterday when Molly told me she wanted to put you in her cage.”
“What?” Now Molly couldn’t have lifted her eyes if the world depended upon it.
But Daniel said, “Molly, look at Emma and tell her what happened yesterday.”
Molly looked at Daniel instead, turning her eyes up in a plea for clemency. Daniel responded by withdrawing his hand from her bottom and then bringing it down in a very sharp spank, right on Molly’s sit-spot.
“Ow!” Molly yelped. In her cage, Emma gave a little cry—she had just seen the first real spank of her life. Daniel looked intently into her eyes, warning her to obey him, and spanked her again, hard. Molly’s eyes watered, and she whimpered and turned her eyes to the girl in the cage, who looked back at her now in confusion.
“I know it’s going to help you, Emma,” Molly said, pleading now with her new friend, trying to assuage the anger she would certainly feel now, before she really understood what had happened and why she had taken off her clothes. Then she yelped again because Daniel had given her another hard spank.
She did her best to obey him, then, all the words trying to come out of her mouth at once. “I’m sorry… I got spanked yesterday, too, because I asked Master to spank me because I felt naughty because…” Her face felt like an inferno. Her voice dropped to a slow whisper. “Because I think you’re so pretty and I want to kiss you.”
Emma had a stricken expression on her face, but Molly could sense, to her relief and even a little to her joy, that the other girl didn’t feel anywhere near as much anger as she felt fear of her own reciprocal desire.
Daniel had returned his hand to hold Molly’s bottom, which stung now in that much-too-pleasant way. She knew how thoroughly that would change under the paddle, but right now the fear of her punishment only contributed to the arousal between her legs.
But her master said, “That’s enough of that for now, I think. Lay yourself down now, Molly, for your paddling.”
Molly closed her eyes and gave a little nod, as Daniel took hold of her hips and turned her around, then tugged her into the space between the ottoman and the cage, facing away from Emma. She heard a series of little whimpers from the cage behind her as she knelt on the carpet, then laid herself down as she had many times before, but never with another girl watching.
As she used her arms to pull herself up and over the well-padded surface for whose cushioning she always felt grateful, she heard the familiar command from her master, “Knees well apart, little one.”
The command itself drew another puppy sound from Emma. When Molly obeyed, though, her face blazing like the sun and her heart grateful at least that she wasn’t able to see the face of the girl in the cage, the sound Emma made was closer to a whine. It sounded like she wanted to be free of the cage, but Molly sensed the terrible ambiguity in the girl’s mind. From furtive glances, to seeing clearly the naughty, bare place where another girl’s pussy began, and now to be made to look so very closel
y at the naughtiest view of all—the shameful rear view that exposed also the tiny pink button of Molly’s anus.
“Little one,” Daniel said, and something in his intonation told Molly that he meant Emma rather than her, “it is important to me that I be honest with you about my intentions and my requirements.”
Molly pictured Emma biting her lip and looking up into her new master’s eyes. She bit her own lip in sympathy as she lay over the ottoman, her knees slightly more than shoulder width apart, displaying to her new friend the naughty place she desperately hoped Emma might be made to kiss sometime soon.
“I want to be sure you know that this is my favorite view of a girl under my protection.”
“Oh, God,” Emma whispered. “Why?”
“Call me Sir or Master, now.” That patient, patient voice sounded just as it had when he had said the same to Molly.
“Why, Sir?” Molly could barely hear Emma now.
“Little one, I am not like other men, as you will learn more fully soon. The powers I spoke of before are only part of what I mean, but they are perhaps the easiest thing to understand, and I get them and maintain them by taming young women with my firm hand and my hard penis.”
The only sound now came from Emma’s labored breathing. Molly’s pussy clenched, and knew it must glisten brightly in her new friend’s sight.
“A girl in this position is ready for taming, and ready for fucking. I want you to watch Molly’s paddling now, and learn your own lesson about her, about me, and about yourself.”
Another little noise came from the cage; Daniel must have raised the paddle high. Molly gave a tiny sob of frightened anticipation. Then she felt the puff of air, and heard the crack of the leather against her bottom and felt the searing pain. She arched her back, gripping the lower corners of the ottoman very hard, and cried out, her bottom already clenching and unclenching desperately and, she knew, lewdly, in a vain attempt to soothe the smart. Already Daniel had delivered another swat, though, and Molly had cried out again. The paddle was for punishment, and Molly had begun to get what she deserved.
Chapter Eight
Emma cuddled Molly’s pink blanket to her face as she watched its owner being punished. The blanket smelled of soap, shampoo, and of something else that seemed to Emma a little naughty, though she couldn’t have named it. The scent seemed like a more concentrated version of what she could smell now in the air in the little den that seemed so much warmer than it had been before Daniel got home.
She felt safe in the cage. She felt a little guilty, too, because her bottom wasn’t the one that Daniel spanked over and over again with the leather paddle that had Molly’s name on it. But if it had Molly’s name, shouldn’t it spank Molly’s bottom?
What if there were a paddle with Emma’s name on it, though? She shivered at the thought even as her whole body flashed hot and cold with the sensations that seemed to reach out to her from what Molly’s master was doing to his young lady. His little one.
Emma wanted to be his young lady, too—and to be his little one even more. But how could she want that? It must mean having a paddle with your name on it, mustn’t it? And hadn’t she decided to stay in the cage and watch because Daniel said that if she refused he would spank her before he sent her home?
Molly sobbed into the ottoman. Emma was glad she couldn’t see her new friend’s face, because she knew how embarrassing Molly would find it if another girl could see the tears of shame and pain running down her cheeks. But…
She wanted to see Molly’s face, too. She felt desperate to see the eyes brimming with bright sparkles, the mouth twisted into a woeful pout as her master taught her a lesson about how a young lady should behave.
Somehow she wanted both things, and she wanted them so badly that they seemed to light a fire down there below her tummy—the place from which Emma had unaccountably removed her modest cotton panties with the little blue flowers on them, so that anyone who looked could see the reddish fur that really hadn’t been growing there very long at all. Emma didn’t like to see that tuft of hair in the mirror, but the alternative—that she would see the same kind of bare cleft that Daniel had focused her attention on, between Molly’s thighs—made her blush even harder when she thought about it.
The same kind of cleft that showed the contours of the place on Emma’s body that matched what she saw now, what she couldn’t look away from even though it made her bite her lip and… and…
And want to put my hand down there, where hands don’t go.
Oh, God.
Molly’s pussy. Every time Daniel raised the paddle again to spank his young lady’s red, red bottom another time, so that she would understand she must be a good girl for him in the future and not put other girls in cages, Emma saw a pussy and a bottom-hole. She had thought she saw that the pussy’s pink inner lips were wet, before, a sight so shameful that it made Emma feel faint. Now that sheen seemed to have disappeared.
Her master’s spanked her naughtiness away, Emma thought and immediately wanted to sink into the floor with shame.
“Please, Master… please, Master…” Molly sobbed. Her bottom wriggled, and she tried to get away, but Daniel put his hand on her waist to hold her down over the ottoman and kept spanking.
She wanted to kiss me. That’s why she put me in the cage. That thought, too, made Emma feel faint. Her mind wanted to run away from it.
Because… because Molly is pretty, too. And if I kissed her, it would make her happy, and that would make me happy, too. And it would feel good, wouldn’t it? Those soft lips on mine? And if her master said it was okay for young ladies to kiss each other, even if it felt a little embarrassing, that would mean that I had to kiss Molly, wouldn’t it?
Oh, how she wanted to see Molly’s face, now. She didn’t think she would really have the courage to try to kiss away her tears, but she just wanted to see those tears so that she could make a more informed decision on the matter. Maybe Daniel would order Emma to comfort Molly: two naked girls snuggling together with a pink blanket over their hips, so that no one could see what happened between their waists and their knees.
The spanking stopped. Daniel said to Emma, “Little one, it’s time for you to see what I mean by more.”
The faint feeling came over Emma again, and her heart pounded. “Please… please, I…”
“Hush, Emma,” he said gently. “Just watch.” He turned to Molly, where she lay sobbing quietly, her bottom still clenching in a way that put a crease in Emma’s brow. “I’m going to put your harness on you, now, young lady.”
“Wh-what?” Emma whispered. Harness. He’d said harness.
Daniel had started to move to the closet of the little den.
“Molly,” he said, “why don’t you go ahead and tell your new friend about what happens after a punishment?”
“Oh, Master… please… can’t you just… you know, show her?” Molly’s voice sounded very thick. Emma wondered if she could see the sheen returning to the coral secrets of the pussy the other girl was made to show, and her face blazed with heat at the thought. How could Molly feel that way after the terrible paddling she had just received?
“No, little one,” Daniel replied, the sternness coming back into his tone. “It’s important to me that you express to Emma what taming means, in my house, now that she’s going to be tamed the way you are.”
Tamed. That word again. When he had said it the first time, a few minutes before, she had barely comprehended what he could mean, in her mind, but her heart and the need between her thighs had seemed to shout their urgent response. Now he had said that she—Emma Woodbine, good girl—would be tamed.
Her mind flashed to the men’s room at the faculty club, to Professor Gage’s face as he turned and saw that she was there, that she was naked. In his eyes, hadn’t she seen for an instant the desire to tame this uncivilized girl who didn’t know how to behave properly? Who would barge into a men’s bathroom and take off her clothes there?
Just as Emma had tak
en off her clothes here, in another person’s home, in another person’s den.
A good girl didn’t even take her clothes off like that in her own bedroom; she had her change of underwear and her nightgown and her bathrobe ready to cover her shameful nakedness.
Something jingled in the closet, out of view behind Daniel’s broad shoulders. Harness. It couldn’t be real. How could it be real?
Molly started to speak in halting phrases, each one sending another jolt through Emma’s quivering body, as if the girl with the punished bottom were bestowing a caress with every word.
“I… I have a… a, well, Master calls it… a bottom harness, because… because it’s for…”
“Oh, no,” Emma whispered, hoping Molly wouldn’t say what she thought she must be about to say and knowing that of course she would say it.
“It’s for my bottom, and…”
Emma hadn’t taken her eyes off Daniel’s back, where the soft jingling of the unseen thing had kept her gaze fixed for what seemed like an hour despite only occupying a very few seconds. Now he turned, and what he held literally took Emma’s breath away: she gasped, and when she could breathe again, it was to emit a little whimpering cry.
“And I have to wear it after I’m paddled, to help me learn. And… and sometimes I have… I have to wear it to… to be trained in, because… because I need training, back there…”
Leather straps and shiny metal rings. Clips and buckles. Daniel held it so Emma could see. Her mind spent agonizing seconds trying to figure out how the straps would go over Molly’s tender skin, binding her inside, enclosing her, just as Emma felt herself enclosed in the cage.
Training. A little sob escaped Emma’s chest as she seemed to hear the word echoing over and over in her mind. She had wanted Professor Gage to train her, hadn’t she? Now this… this man with strange powers whose effect Emma couldn’t deny planned to train her the way it seemed Molly was trained. Back there.