Jason Z. Christie's Blog, page 12
January 17, 2016
Name This Novel - Chapter 2
Chapter 2 – Thieves I first met Doug when I was still in junior high. Me and Craig Pitre were thieves. I know. I'm not proud of it. But we were dumb kids. It's kind of funny, really. The first thing we did was steal twelve triple-beam scales from school. It took almost a week. We'd each take one out of the science lab every day in our gym bags. We traded them for an ounce of weed every night from Bero, this black weed dealer we knew. He sold to kids, so he had no problem accepting stolen goods. We had no idea that they were worth three dollars each. We got forty apiece for them, basically. From there, we progressed to robbing camps. There are two types of residences in Maurepas, where we lived. Louisiana. Most people lived there year-round, but some people had fishing or hunting camps that they might only visit a few times a year, at most. So we'd break into them and trade what we stole to Bero for weed. Skis and guns, mostly. We also got a lot of liquor and gas. We always needed gas for Craig's boat. Which leads me to a funny story, and how I met Doug. I was considered the pussy of the bunch, because I was a Yankee, technically, and didn't grow up in the swamp. Plus I was probably the smartest one in the school. It got me in a bit of trouble, in this case. We had just dropped off a load of gas and liquor in one of our hiding spots in the woods. It was an assortment of gin, vodka and tequila, plus a full keg, which we were really proud of. There was going to be a big bonfire that weekend, and we worked extra hard at hustling supplies for it. We were hauling ass in his boat, as we always did. He died a few years later from the same sort of speed demon shit. Bero was with him. It was sort of ironic. He had wrecked three Buick Regals, which, at the time, were the fastest luxury car on the market. Rich kid. But he and Bero were coming back from Gonzales, and as they passed the big Catholic church in St. Amant, a log truck lost its load and dropped some on them. They went into the river and drowned. Anyway. So Craig has his boat's little Evinrude motor wide open. Maybe we were fucked up. Had to be. The boat hit a wake or something. I didn't think much of it. But when I turned around, he was gone. And the boat kept going. It was my inexperience that got me fucked over. I panicked and jumped back there. Instead of backing off of the throttle, I turned the handle slightly, and got thrown slap out of the boat along with Craig. It kept going, of course, but it was no longer going straight. It cut a wide arc, and hit a houseboat. Doug's houseboat, as I would find out later. Put a hole in it. We swam over to it, a little shaken, but otherwise okay. He turned the engine off, and we pried it from the hole it had made and wedged into. No one came out, so we just left. Laughed the whole way home. A few months later, I came up on a house back in the swamp. Just a tar-paper shack, really. But I couldn't resist breaking into it. I knocked, first. A pretense to make sure it was unoccupied. When no one answered, I went inside. In retrospect, I should have known it wasn't a camp. Otherwise, it would have had a lock on it. Stupid. So I went in. There was no electricity, of course, and the cypress trees shaded it pretty well. When my eyes adjusted, all I saw were books. Hundreds of them. It was crazy, like a small library hidden in the middle of the swamp. Except the books were just in huge stacks on the floor. There were two other rooms, but I didn't get to see them that day. Drug Doug walked in from the back without making a sound and pointed the scariest looking gun I had ever seen before at me. A CZ Skorpion, I found out later. Modified for full auto. “You...shithead motherfucker,” he said. “First you wreck my boat, then break into my house? Didn't your parents raise you right?” The enormity of what I had been doing struck me just then. Not so much the boat thing, which was part of it, but robbing camps. Prior to that moment, it was all abstract. But we had been stealing real things from real people that they had bought with real money. I'm happy to say I never stole again after that, and not because I had a gun pulled on me. It did make me think, though. And I still had to deal with. I stared into the semi-darkness, unable to speak. “I ought to use you to bait my crab traps.” He put the gun in his waistband, and I breathed a silent sigh of relief. “You owe me...” He paused and calculated an amount. “Three hundred dollars. Understand?” I nodded vigorously. I had two hundred from my recent Confirmation, which took place at the very church Craig later died in front of. “I can get you two hundred now,” I croaked. “Please don't kill me.” “Shit, boy. I prolly wasn't gonna kill ya. Just making a point. A man's home should be his castle. Inviolate. Understand?” “Yes, sir,” I said. “You do realize that under Louisiana law I could legally kill you, right?” “Legally?” “Fucking legal as shit. Napoleanic code. If a person is deemed a threat in your home or on your property, you can kill them and get off. Sure, you'll be arrested. But the charges will be dropped.” “Wow.” “What the fuck are you robbing camps for? You're not a scumbag. I mean, ya kinda are. But you're a little kid. You have an intelligence about you. I can see it in your beady eyes.” I explained to him about Bero and weed, the scales, the skis and guns. “You little idiot. Y'all were the ones getting robbed. You should have gotten a quarter pound each for the triple-beams alone. You'd have more weed than you've probably ever seen.” I nodded in understanding, and considered how dumb we'd been. “No thing,” Doug said. “We all do stupid shit as kids. So, you swear you'll pay me?” “Yes, of course.” “I believe you. You're an honest thief, I think. Smoke a joint?” I never needed to get high so bad in my life. My heart was still racing. “That'd be great.” Doug pulled a fatty from behind his ear and lit it up. Before we were even done, I was fucking baked. I'd never smoked primo weed before, or even knew such a thing existed. I did pay him the two hundred the next day, and apologized again. The other hundred took me a month of saving lunch money and allowance, plus I mowed some lawns. I guess you could say we were friends after that, and have been ever since.
So that's the story of how I met Drug Doug. The rest didn't happen until years later, and I'll get to that next.
So that's the story of how I met Drug Doug. The rest didn't happen until years later, and I'll get to that next.
Name This Novel - Chapter 1
(When I wrote Zombie Killa, to my surprise and delight, real zombie fans read it. To my chagrin, they hated it. It's a comedy. There's precious little gunplay and gore. This novel is my response to that... It's more feral humans than zombie, as such, but the end result is the same. At any rate, if you come up with a title for it at some point, let me know. Please. I have no idea what to call it, and I've never had a problem naming my works before.)
For Catt Dahman, Sabrina Renee Dollar, Christine Masters, Stephanie Travitsky, Jimmy, Craig, Doug, and Rodney.
Chapter 1 - What's Past is Prologue
Going see Drug Doug was always a pain, but it was definitely worth it. The dude had three homes, two of them well-hidden. The third was a sort of floating fortress. He called it his duck blind, but what he really meant was that it was his decoy house. But before I get into all that, I guess I should give you my back story. If there's anyone left to read this, I guess. My name is Jimmy Bear, and I brought about the end of the world. I'm not writing this as a confession, but an explanation. As you'll see, what happened was inevitable. I just accidentally accelerated the process. Doug says it's a good thing, ultimately, and I tend to agree. The N.W.O. was going to do it to us, we just beat them to the punch. That's New World Order, not the wrestling association. I think the world would have been run better by professional wrestlers. In a sense, it was. If you dismiss the concept of the world being run by a power-hungry, super-rich elite, what can I say? You're fucking stupid. Doug was a junkie and a coon-ass, but he was the smartest and most educated person I ever met in my short twenty-two year life. And I graduated at the top of my class at L.S.U. For what that's worth, which is next to nothing. I should have been learning how to survive instead. One of the many books Doug turned me on to was Gary Allen's “None Dare Call It Conspiracy”. And if you think there's no such thing as conspiracy, I hope you don't breed. Despite the title, it's a history book. I looked for anyone to debunk it online, but it never happened. It's really well researched and footnoted, something that appeals to my over-trained academic mind. Anyway, it details how the Rothschilds. Rockefellers, J.P. Morgan, Andrew Carnegie, and others took over world politics at the end of the 1800s. Mayer Amschel Rothschild founded several European banks in the mid to late 1800s, and had his sons run them. They were privately owned banks with the appearance of being state-owned. Bank of France, things like that. I'm not too clear on the specifics. Doug wants me to point out that Rothschild was Jewish. That's not really important is some sort of prejudicial sense, but because there's some slight evidence that Adolf Hitler, half-Jewish, was a bastard Rothschild himself. As a matter of fact, my family, in part, was from Poland. I suspect they changed their religion to Catholic when they immigrated in order to fit in. The super-elite's religion was money and power, anyway. Some would say Satanism. Whatever it was, it wasn't based on race or nationality. So the Rothschilds took over European banking. Just like until last year when shit went bad, they made their money off of wars and national debts More importantly, by withholding money from one side or the other, they could determine the outcomes in advance. I haven't been able to research it, but Doug says they even funded both sides of the civil war. So,, anyway, at the end of the nineteenth century, these families decided to quit competing with each other and take the whole enchilada. They created tax-free foundations to protect their wealth, them implemented an income tax on the rest of us. I say these things not to preach or pontificate, but as a prelude to what happened later. The event, I call it. And at this point, you're either a believer, or dead. It's all moot now, as Doug says. Did you know 'moot' actually meant 'up for debate'? Language is a slippery thing. The other thing I should mention going into this is that I'm schizophrenic. Well, schizoid personality type is the actual term. It's sort of borderline. Basically, extreme stress or lack of sleep, linked to drug use, in my case, can bring it out. So it's sometimes difficult for me to distinguish between reality and imagination, at times. This was also a factor, as I initially dismissed what was happening to us as hallucination.
Now I wish that had been the case.
For Catt Dahman, Sabrina Renee Dollar, Christine Masters, Stephanie Travitsky, Jimmy, Craig, Doug, and Rodney.
Chapter 1 - What's Past is Prologue
Going see Drug Doug was always a pain, but it was definitely worth it. The dude had three homes, two of them well-hidden. The third was a sort of floating fortress. He called it his duck blind, but what he really meant was that it was his decoy house. But before I get into all that, I guess I should give you my back story. If there's anyone left to read this, I guess. My name is Jimmy Bear, and I brought about the end of the world. I'm not writing this as a confession, but an explanation. As you'll see, what happened was inevitable. I just accidentally accelerated the process. Doug says it's a good thing, ultimately, and I tend to agree. The N.W.O. was going to do it to us, we just beat them to the punch. That's New World Order, not the wrestling association. I think the world would have been run better by professional wrestlers. In a sense, it was. If you dismiss the concept of the world being run by a power-hungry, super-rich elite, what can I say? You're fucking stupid. Doug was a junkie and a coon-ass, but he was the smartest and most educated person I ever met in my short twenty-two year life. And I graduated at the top of my class at L.S.U. For what that's worth, which is next to nothing. I should have been learning how to survive instead. One of the many books Doug turned me on to was Gary Allen's “None Dare Call It Conspiracy”. And if you think there's no such thing as conspiracy, I hope you don't breed. Despite the title, it's a history book. I looked for anyone to debunk it online, but it never happened. It's really well researched and footnoted, something that appeals to my over-trained academic mind. Anyway, it details how the Rothschilds. Rockefellers, J.P. Morgan, Andrew Carnegie, and others took over world politics at the end of the 1800s. Mayer Amschel Rothschild founded several European banks in the mid to late 1800s, and had his sons run them. They were privately owned banks with the appearance of being state-owned. Bank of France, things like that. I'm not too clear on the specifics. Doug wants me to point out that Rothschild was Jewish. That's not really important is some sort of prejudicial sense, but because there's some slight evidence that Adolf Hitler, half-Jewish, was a bastard Rothschild himself. As a matter of fact, my family, in part, was from Poland. I suspect they changed their religion to Catholic when they immigrated in order to fit in. The super-elite's religion was money and power, anyway. Some would say Satanism. Whatever it was, it wasn't based on race or nationality. So the Rothschilds took over European banking. Just like until last year when shit went bad, they made their money off of wars and national debts More importantly, by withholding money from one side or the other, they could determine the outcomes in advance. I haven't been able to research it, but Doug says they even funded both sides of the civil war. So,, anyway, at the end of the nineteenth century, these families decided to quit competing with each other and take the whole enchilada. They created tax-free foundations to protect their wealth, them implemented an income tax on the rest of us. I say these things not to preach or pontificate, but as a prelude to what happened later. The event, I call it. And at this point, you're either a believer, or dead. It's all moot now, as Doug says. Did you know 'moot' actually meant 'up for debate'? Language is a slippery thing. The other thing I should mention going into this is that I'm schizophrenic. Well, schizoid personality type is the actual term. It's sort of borderline. Basically, extreme stress or lack of sleep, linked to drug use, in my case, can bring it out. So it's sometimes difficult for me to distinguish between reality and imagination, at times. This was also a factor, as I initially dismissed what was happening to us as hallucination.
Now I wish that had been the case.
January 12, 2016
Erotica - Charlotte's Troubles, Chapter 2
The next day found Charlotte again at her desk before the others had arrived. He was determined not to engage her. She was maddeningly distracting, making each minute of the day torture until he could touch her again.He walked in and sat down, and she never looked up from her handwriting practice. She easily had the best penmanship of anyone in school. To be fair, she was also the oldest. But her handwriting was a reflection of herself: flowery, feminine, and perfect. At his desk, he fumbled with his assignments, desperate to avoid looking at her, lest he lose control right then and there. It would be the end of the both of them. She would be sent away, likely to the east, and he would be driven out on a rail, tarred and feathered. It's hard for a man to come back from that.To his astonishment, the next time he looked up, she was there, standing directly in front of him. Almost defiantly. Yet she never spoke until spoken to.“Yes, Charlotte? What is it?” he said, somewhat sharply. “I'm not a brat, sir,” she said, softly.“What's that?”“I said I'm not a brat, sir.” Louder, this time. And then she looked him in the eyes.He was faced with two choices. Succumb to emotion, or answer the challenge she was issuing. Such was the power of her submission that he was compelled to answer with a combination of both.Softening his voice a bit, he said, “No, Charlotte. I suppose you are not. You're my star pupil. Very obedient.”“I try, sir.”“Charlotte...how did you become...this way? Do you know? Was it your father?”“Yes, sir. I suppose it was. But in the manner in which you might think. I watched, over the course of my years, as he grew increasingly unhappy. As he did, life became poorer for her, as well, until they were both miserable.So I set out to find out what makes men happiest. Research.”“And so you-”“No, Sir! Never! Perish the thought. My own parents cannot be helped. I can't discuss such things with mother. But I decided that I would find a deserving man, and make sure he was the happiest he could be.”“And, I, Charlotte, am the deserving one?”“No, Sir. Not exactly. Necessarily.” She blushed. “I needed practice. However, you are a good man, kindly, yet firm. I cannot say that you are not deserving. You have no wife. Sometimes, I feel your loneliness.”“Hmmm.”He stood, and walked around to her. She never shifted her position, but remained facing his chair, tensing almost imperceptibly for whatever was coming next.Placing a solitary finger on the side of her face, he turned her to meet his own. Smiled. Kissed her forehead. “No, Charlotte. You're not a brat.”She reddened, and a hint of a smile played at the corner of her mouth. “You are mine, however. Do you understand?”“Yes, Sir,” she said, breathlessly. She wanted to add, “For now,” but she was fearful of the consequences.He stood behind her and grabbed her wrists, spreading them wider, and moving them away from her, until she was bent over his desk. Then he stood behind her and spread her legs wide as well, until she was rendered somewhat immobile. Had he time, he would have tied her down. But despite the generous time allowance she had granted him by arriving so early, it couldn't be risked. He was already playing with a particularly dangerous brand of fire as it was.He raised the hem of her long skirt over her hips, and she shivered. Reaching between her legs, he sought her lips, and squeezed them together. Hard enough for her to know he meant business. Of course she was already wet. Now, almost at once, her panties showed a widening wet spot.To her credit, Charlotte didn't resist. She didn't move. This, despite the fact that she had no idea of what was to come next. Not to mention the fact that she was now half-naked, splayed across the schoolmaster's desk, seven minutes before her class arrived.As if to answer her concerns about being half naked, he took out his cock and slapped it lightly against her wet slit through her panties, making sure she could hear it. As he rubbed himself on her, he drew closer, reached around, and unbuttoned her top. “Get them out, Charlotte. Now.”She did, and they sat bare, nipples hard, right in front of where he sat each day. “Pull them,” he commanded her.Charlotte moved her arms, and began to stretch them, to an almost alarming degree, moaning softly.It was already too much for him to take for any longer. But he had an agenda. He replaced his cock with his fingers, and wet his thumb. Then he placed it on her asshole, and she began to climax. Charlotte pinched, pulled, and twisted on her nipples in a most shocking manner as she did so. And as she came, her ass opened slightly with each spasm. Each time, she slipped his thumb in a tiny bit deeper, wiggling it. Her orgasm was amplified exponentially.By the time she had finished, she had nearly collapsed. Her cotton panties were now soaked. As she lay trying to catch her breath, he removed them. Placed them in his desk drawer.Charlotte, of course, uttered not a word of protest.His cock was still engorged, though, and that was a bit of a problem. “Kneel,” was all he had to say.She slid off of the desk to her knees, as if she had practiced the maneuver. Perhaps she had, he reflected.At any rate, there she was. Young, vibrant, voluptuous, beautiful. Her pendulous breasts, nipples still diamond hard, stood out proudly. They begged to be slapped. She looked up at him with large brown eyes, all softness. Her mouth was already open.Although he wished to plunged the length of himself into her and launch into her throat, a different thought came to him. He took out his cock, and instantly coated her tongue, her lips.When he stopped, she swallowed, making sure to make her delight known to him, and then licked him off of her lips. But before he allowed her to stand, he wiped his dripping cockhead across her upper lip.“Leave it,” he said sternly.“Yes, Sir,” Charlotte said, as though she was far away in a dream.“Back on the desk,” he told her. He had to move quickly, now.She resumed her position on her own as best she could. As she did so, he grabbed his quill and ink bottle, writing 'Good' on one breast, and 'Wife' on the other, so that she could read it. When the ink had set a tiny bit, he wiped it off again, leaving a faint inscription that wouldn't be visible to others.She, of course, couldn't see it yet, but the very act thrilled her, whatever he had written.The only real roughness came when he grabbed her hair from behind and stood her up. She practically came again right then.He buttoned up her top, leaving one undone, so she could see what he had written, all day as she sat at her desk.“Find your seat, Charlotte. As I will be finding it later...”“Yes, Sir,” she said, and moved to do as she was told.But she knew what he meant. She only hoped she was ready.
###The school day was tortuous for them both. Her headmaster, she observed, had wrapped her panties in his ink-stained handkerchief, and seemed to have acquired a bad cold. He couldn't resist smelling her for more than five minutes at a time, a fact which delighted Charlotte to no end.Meanwhile, both of them simmered slowly all day, thinking about what was to come.It was perhaps worse for him, although he had no idea of this. He struggled with the gestalt of what he was doing. He grappled with the minutia of the coming afternoon. Certainly he had never done anything so shocking in his entire life. But the situation, and Charlotte itself, it seemed, demanded it. For the most part, however, he worried about her well-being, mentally and physically. Academically, he knew that such acts were, by some standard, perfectly acceptable, even common in some cultures. But with an unmarried schoolgirl? He had never attempted such a thing with even a dancehall girl, who would have slapped his face at the suggestion.Or so he had presumed.Yet, here he was. Committed to sodomizing her that very day. The fact that she knew ate at his conscience. But that didn't diminish his growing excitement.Charlotte, to a lesser degree, shared his anxiety.Taking her own virginity was the one act she nearly regretted, simply because it was such a valued commodity. Expected, in marriage. Nevertheless, it had to be done. She had even learned how to fake such a thing in the event of a marriage.Her self-training and experimentation did lead to her penetrating herself anally. Starting with a finger, she worked herself up to two. Then she began to use a warmed raw carrot, going deeper. Her favorite became a slightly larger half-boiled sausage.Still, it was nothing compared to what she knew was coming. His wordplay was subtle, but at the same time, pointed.After some time dwelling on the subject, Charlotte feared she would wet her skirt. Sneaking a few items in her pockets, she excused herself at the proper moment to visit the privvy. Once inside, she gave herself much needed attention, rubbing herself to orgasm as she desperately tried to stretch her asshole.It didn't take her long to orgasm. She sat back, breathing heavily, and mopped sweat from her brow. Hopefully that would allow her to focus on her schoolwork a tiny bit, rather than be driven wild for six more hours. Charlotte attended to one more small matter, and then went back to her desk, taking some extra tissue in case her moisture problem persisted.“Glad to have you back, Charlotte,” he said, not looking up.“Yes, Sir,” she said. “I wouldn't want to fall behind.”It was the only interaction that she allowed herself with him, until day's end. He immediately contacted an enhanced case of the sniffles.As usual, when three o'clock had arrived, she remained in her seat, despite having received no punishment that day. But when the classroom emptied, she undid another button of her blouse, displaying his handiwork from earlier.He, of course, focused on grading papers. But what he was really doing was waiting for everyone to leave the area so that he could abscond with her unnoticed. The students were on foot, and he, a buggy, so he erred on the side of caution.That half hour was more arduous than the previous seven combined.Charlotte spent that time completing her homework for the next day, despite her wandering thoughts.But at three-thirty, she noticed him beginning to put this things into his satchel, and her heart began racing. She packed her own, as well, and waited for direction.At last, he stood, and said, “Come, Charlotte.”She almost did.He extended his elbow, and she held it, every bit the lady, as they walked to his wagon.He helped her get up, and she noticed that his hands gave extra attention to her ass.Between them sat a gingham covered picnic basket. When she impertinently opened it and looked inside, she found only a blanket, and a small bottle of olive oil.Intriguing. How could he have possibly known in advance? Charlotte determined that their minds were more closely connected than she had suspected. As he drove the horses down a side road to more abandoned farmland, Charlotte spread her legs and hiked her skirt high. Casually, she drizzled a bit of oil on her fingers, though she never needed it, and began to caress herself in full sight of him.His eyes left her only to scan the countryside nervously and to insure they remained more or less on the road.He flicked the top button of her blouse, and she responded by opening it entirely. It was shocking to him, seeing the feminine form on full public display in the open air and sunlight. At the same time, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Sunlight glistened off of the beads of oil that clung to her modest patch of short hairs. She occasionally stopped rubbing herself and pulled her labia apart, showing him far more than any textbook ever had.He eventually looked up long enough to spy the abandoned barn he sought in the distance, and doubled the horse's speed.He pulled around behind it, opposite the road, and dismounted. Rather than helping her down immediately, he unhitched and staked the animal where it could graze, intensifying the moment by stretching it out. Her dress was now quite wet. Not that she cared.At last, he walked over to her and extended his hand. She took it in her own, slick with oil, and warm with her heat, and stepped down.To her surprise and delight, he said her name, and kissed her, hard, at first, and then tenderly.Unable to say more, but having silently conveyed volumes, he reached around her for the basket. “Please allow me, Sir.”He grabbed her wrist as she grabbed the basket, and pulled her a few yards from the buggy.To her surprise, he began undressing himself. Despite having been given no orders, Charlotte took the blanket out and spread in on the flattest part of the ground in front of them.Then she began to help him finish undressing, unfastening the buttons on his trousers, and pulling them down. When they were around his ankles, she knelt and untied his shoes, removing them. His now fully-engorged cock brushed against the top of her head.Still in the grass, she stayed in that position until he stepped out of his pants, hoping to take him in her mouth right then and there.“Stand,” he told her.“Yes, Sir,” she said.He looked Charlotte in the eyes, and his hands went to her breasts as he kissed her neck. She grabbed him and pulled him closer, until he began to poke her mound through her dress. He began to kiss her mouth deeply, his fingers working her nipples as he had observed her doing.Shocked by her own audacity, she eventually broke free, grabbed the bottle of oil, and placed it in his hand. As he watched her, she took the dress off over her head, and stood naked and proud in the afternoon heat.Beneath her breasts were written two more words, in her own unmistakable handwriting, 'slut' and 'whore'. Noting his stunned approval, or what she had to assume was approval, Charlotte got down on her hands and knees on the blanket, facing away from him. She lowered her head and shoulders to the ground, and arched her back most provocatively, her vulnerable femininity on full display.He knelt behind her and rubbed himself up and down the length of her slit. Charlotte moaned. But when he made to enter her, she said, “Please, Sir. Not there...”It was a reversal of what he had expected to happen.Despite her eagerness, he found it difficult to bring himself to take her this way, so savage it seemed. Instead, he lay down beside her, and pulled her back to him. She giggled, and turned her head toward him as he kissed her neck and shoulders, and eventually, her mouth.He pulled on her nipples, even harder than before, then took her left hand and placed it on her right breast, so she could continue doing so on her own. Her right hand, he brought behind her back and placed on her cheek.Without further prompting, she spread herself wide. So wide, she actually opened up a bit, making the display she had put on earlier seem tame by comparison.He fumbled with the bottle of oil, applying some first to himself, and then to her. Cautiously, he entered her with one slick finger, like a diver toeing the water before jumping in.“Oh, thank you, Sir!” she said, trying to encourage him without frightening him off of his task.Charlotte pushed back against him, and his finger was engulfed. “Wiggle it, Sir. I beg of you.”He did, although he never would have thought of that on his own, and her moans intensified. She started to buck against him until he took the hint, and began to slide his finger in and out of her. He took it all the way back out, and then slid it fully back in, repeating the process until it became easier each time. But one finger was all he allowed himself. Or her.Finally, he removed it, and Charlotte tried to brace herself for what was coming. She felt his swollen cockhead rub against her entryway.To her surprise, it went in somewhat easily. Surprising, because he was at least twice as big as anything she had ever used on herself before. But, to his credit, he was careful and slow. Almost too careful and slow for her liking.She found that his head was the hardest part to get in. After than, he picked her leg up, and she began to rub herself. Rather than charging in as she had hoped and feared, he applied steady pressure, and slowly inched his way into her recesses.As he slid into her at a snail's pace, Charlotte accented his efforts with staccato bursts of pushing back on her own. Soon, he was in her to the hilt. She had never felt such a fullness in all her years of research.Mentally or physically.In the interest of experimentation, she took her hand from between her legs and focused on both of her nipples. The sensations changed, but remained maddeningly pleasant.When he began to slide in and out of her, she felt a wave of pleasure building. Slowly, at first, but it matched his increasing pace. Within a minute or so, she was taking the length of him, all the way in and out, as he had done with his finger.Charlotte couldn't last much longer, and neither could he.But when he whispered in her ear, “Slut,” her pleasure raced ahead of his slightly, and she began the process of orgasm. By the time he said, “Whore”, she was screaming.Instinctively, perhaps, he slammed his hand over her mouth, and then increased the pace and severity of what he was doing to her. When he pushed himself fully into her and held it, she knew he was arriving, also, which only increased her own excitement. She felt him pulsate as he pumped what felt like an ounce of semen into her.When he had finished, he remained inside of her, but kissed her on the cheek, and said more quietly. “Wife...”Her heart soared. Perhaps he was the one, after all. He did seem to understand her well.He pulled her close against him, and they dozed, as he slowly lost his firmness and eventually fell out of her. They awoke at dusk, and he kissed her with delicate passion.“May, I, Sir?” she asked him, glancing at his cock.“Yes, you may, Charlotte. Tomorrow. You're to stay after school and wash the floors.”“No fair, Sir,” she said, smiling. It was as close to rebellion as she would ever allow herself.
###The school day was tortuous for them both. Her headmaster, she observed, had wrapped her panties in his ink-stained handkerchief, and seemed to have acquired a bad cold. He couldn't resist smelling her for more than five minutes at a time, a fact which delighted Charlotte to no end.Meanwhile, both of them simmered slowly all day, thinking about what was to come.It was perhaps worse for him, although he had no idea of this. He struggled with the gestalt of what he was doing. He grappled with the minutia of the coming afternoon. Certainly he had never done anything so shocking in his entire life. But the situation, and Charlotte itself, it seemed, demanded it. For the most part, however, he worried about her well-being, mentally and physically. Academically, he knew that such acts were, by some standard, perfectly acceptable, even common in some cultures. But with an unmarried schoolgirl? He had never attempted such a thing with even a dancehall girl, who would have slapped his face at the suggestion.Or so he had presumed.Yet, here he was. Committed to sodomizing her that very day. The fact that she knew ate at his conscience. But that didn't diminish his growing excitement.Charlotte, to a lesser degree, shared his anxiety.Taking her own virginity was the one act she nearly regretted, simply because it was such a valued commodity. Expected, in marriage. Nevertheless, it had to be done. She had even learned how to fake such a thing in the event of a marriage.Her self-training and experimentation did lead to her penetrating herself anally. Starting with a finger, she worked herself up to two. Then she began to use a warmed raw carrot, going deeper. Her favorite became a slightly larger half-boiled sausage.Still, it was nothing compared to what she knew was coming. His wordplay was subtle, but at the same time, pointed.After some time dwelling on the subject, Charlotte feared she would wet her skirt. Sneaking a few items in her pockets, she excused herself at the proper moment to visit the privvy. Once inside, she gave herself much needed attention, rubbing herself to orgasm as she desperately tried to stretch her asshole.It didn't take her long to orgasm. She sat back, breathing heavily, and mopped sweat from her brow. Hopefully that would allow her to focus on her schoolwork a tiny bit, rather than be driven wild for six more hours. Charlotte attended to one more small matter, and then went back to her desk, taking some extra tissue in case her moisture problem persisted.“Glad to have you back, Charlotte,” he said, not looking up.“Yes, Sir,” she said. “I wouldn't want to fall behind.”It was the only interaction that she allowed herself with him, until day's end. He immediately contacted an enhanced case of the sniffles.As usual, when three o'clock had arrived, she remained in her seat, despite having received no punishment that day. But when the classroom emptied, she undid another button of her blouse, displaying his handiwork from earlier.He, of course, focused on grading papers. But what he was really doing was waiting for everyone to leave the area so that he could abscond with her unnoticed. The students were on foot, and he, a buggy, so he erred on the side of caution.That half hour was more arduous than the previous seven combined.Charlotte spent that time completing her homework for the next day, despite her wandering thoughts.But at three-thirty, she noticed him beginning to put this things into his satchel, and her heart began racing. She packed her own, as well, and waited for direction.At last, he stood, and said, “Come, Charlotte.”She almost did.He extended his elbow, and she held it, every bit the lady, as they walked to his wagon.He helped her get up, and she noticed that his hands gave extra attention to her ass.Between them sat a gingham covered picnic basket. When she impertinently opened it and looked inside, she found only a blanket, and a small bottle of olive oil.Intriguing. How could he have possibly known in advance? Charlotte determined that their minds were more closely connected than she had suspected. As he drove the horses down a side road to more abandoned farmland, Charlotte spread her legs and hiked her skirt high. Casually, she drizzled a bit of oil on her fingers, though she never needed it, and began to caress herself in full sight of him.His eyes left her only to scan the countryside nervously and to insure they remained more or less on the road.He flicked the top button of her blouse, and she responded by opening it entirely. It was shocking to him, seeing the feminine form on full public display in the open air and sunlight. At the same time, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Sunlight glistened off of the beads of oil that clung to her modest patch of short hairs. She occasionally stopped rubbing herself and pulled her labia apart, showing him far more than any textbook ever had.He eventually looked up long enough to spy the abandoned barn he sought in the distance, and doubled the horse's speed.He pulled around behind it, opposite the road, and dismounted. Rather than helping her down immediately, he unhitched and staked the animal where it could graze, intensifying the moment by stretching it out. Her dress was now quite wet. Not that she cared.At last, he walked over to her and extended his hand. She took it in her own, slick with oil, and warm with her heat, and stepped down.To her surprise and delight, he said her name, and kissed her, hard, at first, and then tenderly.Unable to say more, but having silently conveyed volumes, he reached around her for the basket. “Please allow me, Sir.”He grabbed her wrist as she grabbed the basket, and pulled her a few yards from the buggy.To her surprise, he began undressing himself. Despite having been given no orders, Charlotte took the blanket out and spread in on the flattest part of the ground in front of them.Then she began to help him finish undressing, unfastening the buttons on his trousers, and pulling them down. When they were around his ankles, she knelt and untied his shoes, removing them. His now fully-engorged cock brushed against the top of her head.Still in the grass, she stayed in that position until he stepped out of his pants, hoping to take him in her mouth right then and there.“Stand,” he told her.“Yes, Sir,” she said.He looked Charlotte in the eyes, and his hands went to her breasts as he kissed her neck. She grabbed him and pulled him closer, until he began to poke her mound through her dress. He began to kiss her mouth deeply, his fingers working her nipples as he had observed her doing.Shocked by her own audacity, she eventually broke free, grabbed the bottle of oil, and placed it in his hand. As he watched her, she took the dress off over her head, and stood naked and proud in the afternoon heat.Beneath her breasts were written two more words, in her own unmistakable handwriting, 'slut' and 'whore'. Noting his stunned approval, or what she had to assume was approval, Charlotte got down on her hands and knees on the blanket, facing away from him. She lowered her head and shoulders to the ground, and arched her back most provocatively, her vulnerable femininity on full display.He knelt behind her and rubbed himself up and down the length of her slit. Charlotte moaned. But when he made to enter her, she said, “Please, Sir. Not there...”It was a reversal of what he had expected to happen.Despite her eagerness, he found it difficult to bring himself to take her this way, so savage it seemed. Instead, he lay down beside her, and pulled her back to him. She giggled, and turned her head toward him as he kissed her neck and shoulders, and eventually, her mouth.He pulled on her nipples, even harder than before, then took her left hand and placed it on her right breast, so she could continue doing so on her own. Her right hand, he brought behind her back and placed on her cheek.Without further prompting, she spread herself wide. So wide, she actually opened up a bit, making the display she had put on earlier seem tame by comparison.He fumbled with the bottle of oil, applying some first to himself, and then to her. Cautiously, he entered her with one slick finger, like a diver toeing the water before jumping in.“Oh, thank you, Sir!” she said, trying to encourage him without frightening him off of his task.Charlotte pushed back against him, and his finger was engulfed. “Wiggle it, Sir. I beg of you.”He did, although he never would have thought of that on his own, and her moans intensified. She started to buck against him until he took the hint, and began to slide his finger in and out of her. He took it all the way back out, and then slid it fully back in, repeating the process until it became easier each time. But one finger was all he allowed himself. Or her.Finally, he removed it, and Charlotte tried to brace herself for what was coming. She felt his swollen cockhead rub against her entryway.To her surprise, it went in somewhat easily. Surprising, because he was at least twice as big as anything she had ever used on herself before. But, to his credit, he was careful and slow. Almost too careful and slow for her liking.She found that his head was the hardest part to get in. After than, he picked her leg up, and she began to rub herself. Rather than charging in as she had hoped and feared, he applied steady pressure, and slowly inched his way into her recesses.As he slid into her at a snail's pace, Charlotte accented his efforts with staccato bursts of pushing back on her own. Soon, he was in her to the hilt. She had never felt such a fullness in all her years of research.Mentally or physically.In the interest of experimentation, she took her hand from between her legs and focused on both of her nipples. The sensations changed, but remained maddeningly pleasant.When he began to slide in and out of her, she felt a wave of pleasure building. Slowly, at first, but it matched his increasing pace. Within a minute or so, she was taking the length of him, all the way in and out, as he had done with his finger.Charlotte couldn't last much longer, and neither could he.But when he whispered in her ear, “Slut,” her pleasure raced ahead of his slightly, and she began the process of orgasm. By the time he said, “Whore”, she was screaming.Instinctively, perhaps, he slammed his hand over her mouth, and then increased the pace and severity of what he was doing to her. When he pushed himself fully into her and held it, she knew he was arriving, also, which only increased her own excitement. She felt him pulsate as he pumped what felt like an ounce of semen into her.When he had finished, he remained inside of her, but kissed her on the cheek, and said more quietly. “Wife...”Her heart soared. Perhaps he was the one, after all. He did seem to understand her well.He pulled her close against him, and they dozed, as he slowly lost his firmness and eventually fell out of her. They awoke at dusk, and he kissed her with delicate passion.“May, I, Sir?” she asked him, glancing at his cock.“Yes, you may, Charlotte. Tomorrow. You're to stay after school and wash the floors.”“No fair, Sir,” she said, smiling. It was as close to rebellion as she would ever allow herself.
January 11, 2016
Erotica - Hero/Antagonist
“Take a break, Daddy...” Kitten said. She glanced at his word count for the day.“Did you-”“Thirty eight hundred and forty six words.”One eyebrow raised in amusement. In other words, easily twice his morning's output.“I lost a bit in the revision, of course.”“Kitty, Daddy has-”“Less than two hundred words left.”“And I have to-”“Collect rejection notices?”“Query literary agents.”“Bo-ring.”They both knew a break could entail three hours.“Let Daddy finish...”Technically, she didn't disobey him. She did, however, kneel silently by his side. It wasn't enough to just grab his cock like she wanted to. That wouldn't have been attention getting enough. Instead her fingers walked along the carpet and up the leg of the chair and she sang a tuneless little “la la la” theme song.His resolve was impressive as he did his best to tune her out. But judging by the number of errors and drop in output, he was failing badly.Her little hand found his cock, and he had met her halfway. She gave it a squeeze out of pure adoration, and lapsed into silence. As he began to swell, she focused on stroking him through his pajamas with exquisite slowness. She timed it to his keystrokes, and by the time he was finished, he was strained to bursting.He closed the laptop and turned to face her. He never understood how she could make her face shine, but he was convinced she did. That was what he lived for, that glow.He kissed her on the forehead, and then stood up.“Edit it,” he said, and walked off.“Daddy!”“I'm kidding, Kitten. Be right back...”
Erotica - Adoption
He pulled open the time-worn door and entered the depressing industrial edifice. The receptionist glanced up at him and then her eyes quickly returned to her lap as he approached.“Mrs...Sims? I believe. I have an appointment.”He pretended to consult his schedule as she looked at her own, thereby avoiding looking directly at her. She was achingly beautiful.“Yes, three o'clock. Go into the waiting room, please.”The waiting room was merely an out-dated couch on the other side of a cubicle partition. After a brief wait, the Director of Human Services appeared.“Mrs. Sims? William Wallace. We spoke over the phone?”“Yes, hello Mr. Wallace. I believe you had made an inquiry about adoption?”“Yes, ma'am, I did. So, what I'm looking for, here. Female. Black. Tall is nice. About fifteen. Although I'm willing to go plus or minus a year, provided she is studious.”“Mr. Wallace! I'm afraid that's not how it works.”“Well, shouldn't it?”“Absolutely not! It's an outrage. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave.”“Well, if that's the way you feel about it...”His face almost betrayed the hint of a grin as he turned to walk out.On the other side, he did manage to steal a glance at her, despite his resolve. She was suddenly very concerned with her nails.But at the door, she stopped him.“Daddy?”He turned to look. She was stretched across her desk toward him, arm extended. An arm that held a pink Post-it note...Each step back seemed to take way too long, but it was either that or run.She didn't look at him, but when he got closer, she waved it imperceptibly. When he reached for it, as if in a trance, their fingers touched, and she emitted a soft gasp.At a loss for words, he pocketed the scrap of paper, and walked out.
Erotica - The Catbaby
(This was going to be a longer piece, but, you know.)
He had traveled for what seemed like ages, leaving himself far behind, on the other side of a vast tract of wasteland. In reality, it was about a month.Nevertheless.He had ridden until the beast could no longer be burdened. Ate it. Moved on. He walked until the sandals fell off of his feet, and his soles began to simmer and cook.His skin reddened, bronzed, blackened, peeled until he lost even his physical identity. His hair got lighter, exposing red highlights, like a hidden aspect of his personality brought to the fore.And his eyes. His eyes burned with a madness that could never again be contained.No one believed the old tales. Even now, moments from the culmination of his odyssey, he was unsure himself. More likely still that he, too, was a fool. Though even if he was, he was the better for it. The journey was the reward.Or perhaps the end was.He winced slightly as he ascended the slope. Jagged bits of volcanic glass accented each step.As he neared the crest, the clouds broke, and a wide ray of sunlight lit the caldera in a manner that was quite possibly divine in nature.Curled up in her nest, was the catbaby.He sucked in his breath as though he had been struck. In no way was he prepared for this. In fact, he had talked himself out of it halfway through.Awestruck, he watched as she began to yawn and stretch.“I know you're there,” she said to his amazement, never opening her eyes.“I...I...”“...Didn't know catbabies could talk? I'm sure what you don't know about catbabies could fill volumes.”He fumed. He hadn't considered that she could talk, but even if he had, he wouldn't have expected such a smart ass.Her tail twitched, and she was upright in an instant. Before he could react, she had leapt over the crag and was rubbing her face on his leg.“You found me,” she said. “Now what?”“I beg your pardon?”“Sheesh. Do you know anything at all?”“Neath rhe moon, loometh red
Venus at Orion's head
When the day and night both match
Then the catbaby doth be hatched”“First of all, that's terrible. You went on a quest based on this?”“Well... it was more the reverence with with you were referred.”“What does that mean? Anyway, catbabies aren't hatched. That's silly.”“How did you, um, where did you come from?”“I just woke up. Just now. That's all.”“But... Where did you come from?”“I just am.”She sat and nonchalantly licked her paw.“That would mean I risked everything for something that didn't exist.”“Maybe. Have you considered the possibility that I am in fact the manifestation of your desires and the resultant journey you undertook? That each painful step along the way went into the creation of my very being?”“No. No, I hadn't.”“Good. It's a silly thought. Look, I'm not going to teach you how to tame me.”“Can you be tamed?”“Absolutely not. It doesn't mean you can't try.”He fixed his brow with a determined gaze. “I just might indeed.”“Easy, Conan,” she laughed.“Who?”:”Cimmerian? Anyone?”“Sorry, no.”“You're not one of those Gorean bores, are you?”“A what?”“Ugh! So uncreative. Day in and day out.”“You lost me back there a bit.”Ignoring him, she continued on.“Put out your hand,” she told him.At this, he raised an eyebrow.“I mean, 'Please put out your hand, sir'.”He did so this time, and she stepped into his hand from the rock she had been crouching on. As she did , she began to change and shrink.A half-second later, she sat in his palm, a tiny teacup calico kitten, as vulnerable as an exposed heart.He blinked, sure this was a fever dream, and that he was dying of thirst in a canyon somewhere.She let out a mew, and suddenly his hand could no longer contain her, nor could his arm support her weight. Before he knew was was happening, she had him pinned beneath her full-sized cat form. She flexed her claws into him ever so slightly, and then let out a mid-volume roar.He shuddered, and then she was back to her regular catbaby form, a female of human persuasion, with a tail and distinctly feline features.Curled up on his chest, like it was the most natural thing in the world.What else could he do? He dozed with her, the desolate clearing suddenly the most comfortable bed one could imagine. Light and shadow played across their faces, animating their figures even as they remained immobile.He allowed himself, hesitatingly, to stroke her back. A sound somewhere between 'mmmm' and a sigh escaped her lips, and she...purred.When he awoke, after a nap that felt suspiciously like an eternity, it was to a rough tongue on his cheek.“Hello, magic catbaby here.”“Magic?” he said, opening his eyes to the light.“Silly! What else would you call it?”He considered this, and was forced to admit he didn't have a better word.“There's a certain...synergy...at work with catbabies.”“And what does that mean, exactly?”“I'm not sure,” she said simply, shrugging it off.He felt as if he had failed a test of some sort. There were protocols of every kind in his world, and he had mastered a great many of them. Verbal repartee with beautiful young women was not part of his skill set, much less shapeshifters, for lack of a better word.“Not a shapeshifter,” she said. “Try again.”“But a bit of a mindreader, though...”“There's that,” she said.“How old are you?”“What kind of question is that?”“It's just that you said you were just, um, born. I was just wondering.”“You sure do say 'just' a lot.”Her tail twitched, and she blinked sweetly.“You feel ancient.”“Wow. Smooth talker.”“Timeless.”“That's better. Word choice.”“Magical.”“There you go. But, if you must know,” she sniffed, “I am as mature as I am ever going to be.”She propped herself up with an elbow on his chest.“One might take that more than one way.”“One might take me more than one way, would one stop questioning everything. But if you must know, yes, catbabies are born with all the knowledge and experience of their predecessors. So, while I was technically conceived in your mind some time ago, I did come into existence when you looked at me. Before that, I was there/not there. Does that make any sense?”He nodded. Strangely enough, it rather did.“So, yes, timeless, etc. But I'm a kitten. By your standards...” She probed his mind slightly. “Fifteen.”“I see.”“Yes, and frankly I've done enough explaining for one day. I'm fifteen for a reason.”“What do I call you?”“Call me? I'm Kitty. Kitten. It's not like there are a lot of other catbabies roaming the countryside that you might confuse me with.”“We'll encounter other people some day. They might not appreciate you as fully as I do.”He was putting it mildly, and she did enjoy seeing the horrors he was willing to protect her from when she took a glimpse at his thoughts.“Mrow?”“Marie.”“Really? Why Marie, of all things?”“Why not Marie?”“I dunno. I was just thinking you would go more cliché, somehow.”“Thanks.”“I did ask a question...”“Marie, because it's a name that attempts to bridge adolescence and adulthood. The young girl-”“Catbaby,” she interrupted.“The young catbaby coming of age.”“That,” she said, “Is the most fantastically pervy thing you could have said.”His shoulders slumped, defeated.She tapped him on the shoulder with her tail.“Lighten up,” she said. “Daddy...”“What?” he said, taken aback.“Did you ever further consider that you are a manifestation of my wants and desires?”“I haven't been able to think in hours, to tell you the truth. I have lost all conception of reality.”“Well, you're my Daddy now. You don't get to choose that part.”“But why?”
“Why is it always 'why' with you? Don't question the wisdom of the ancients. If we're asking questions, I would ask you why we would ever have to leave here?”“It's a volcano!”“Yes, but my nest is cozy.”“You're mixing metaphors!”“I'm not sure it's metaphoric. Besides, it's a catnest.”Her logic was unassailable.“There's nothing to eat here.”“Please. Birds. Rabbits. It's what I do.”“You deserve a proper bed.”“Like, a nest with, um, grass or something? That might be nice.”“So you don't know what a bed is? A cushion? A house?”She blinked long feline lashes at him. “A what?”“Aha!” he said. “So I'm not at a total disadvantage!”“Did you just say that out loud?”“Erm.”“Of course you're not, silly. Honestly, it's so exhausting trying to drag you along. But if you were at a total disadvantage, as you say, what fun would that be?”“I suppose.”“So the only way for you to have a disadvantage, in what I have no idea, is for you to think you're at a disadvantage. So thank you for coming to the realization that you're not.”He tried to let that sink in. It was as if she possessed half of the world's knowledge, and he the other. Lock. Key. Cushion...bed.“So when are you going to mount me?” she asked, breaking his reverie.“What?”“I see where you're going, there. Yes, a bed might be nice. And a...fire?”“No one said anything about 'mounting'.”
“Drop the pretense. I scarcely need to read your mind for that.”“Okay. I admit that. But I never thought in such terms.”“Honey,” she said, “Have you ever seen two cats?”He considered this, and shuddered a bit.“Okay, one more catbaby protip. I said I was done an hour ago.”“I'm listening.”“Catbabies, upon bonding with a Daddy, mate for life.”“How would such a bonding occur?”“No more questions...” she said.With her words still echoing in his ears, she became a kitten again.Before tucking her into his shirt, he held her up and said, “In my village, 'Marie' means 'brat'...”The walk back down as much easier than he had expected. It was as if, instead of imposing a burden, she made his steps lighter. Either that, or she was doing freaky things to time. He glanced inside of his shirt twice along the way, to make sure she was still there.When he was back past the treeline, he had a idea.At a higher elevation, he had noticed a wide swathe of pasture, that wasn't visible from the road.A pasture with cows.His pack of stores was down to pemmican and a skin of water. But he needed something. His hat?Terrible idea.He settled upon a wide, flat leaf, which he stitched up with a few well-placed twigs, forming a workable bowl.Then he stretched his coat out for her in a sunlight-speckled patch of shade. He cradled her in both palms, and placed her there, trying his best not to wake her.Finally, he got down to the matter at hand.Of course, he understood how foolish it was to talk to a cow. At least, he would have thought that until today. But he had hoped soothing tones would lull them into compliance.“Come here, Bossy. That's a good cow. Who's a good cow?”Without startling them, he couldn't really get closer than five feet or so. They simply moved away as though following a prescribed minimum distance for cow-human interaction.If he had something to feed them... Which seemed to be a lost cause, given they were grazing already. Then an idea so horrible struck him, he almost couldn't bring himself to try.Almost.He checked on the sleeping catbaby, and got the pemmican from his knapsack. Goats ate anything, right? And goat were rather like tiny cows. Tiny bearded cows, he supposed.He scanned the herd for a particularly hungry looking cow, and learned that he was a poor judge of bovine hunger. Instead, he was reduced to walking slowly up to them, bag extended, in the hopes that they might catch a whiff of something they wanted.The first few didn't, and continued their pattern of diffident, though polite, rejection.But then one instead walked forward. It was a somewhat cross-eyed cow, which was off-putting. He considered whether he wanted to use this particular one, in fact. With little choice in the matter, he decided to go for it.He put a handful of the dried meat in his hand and extended within a few inches of it's nose.“Who's a crazy cow? Huh? Who's a good, crazy cannibal cow?”The creature bellowed. Apparently, it was.“Have a taste, Mr. Mrs. Cow.”It was eating out of the palm of his hand, as they say. And it tickled.What he held was gone with one swipe of a gigantic tongue. He had to work fast.He placed the remainder of his food on the ground in front of it, and moved to its side while it was distracted.He was an expert milker. Which was no big deal, as so was everyone he had ever known. To his delight, though, he was met with many large streams, which filled the bowl almost to brimming.He was trying to get a few squirts to himself when the cow began to walk off again, dragging him with it. He received a faceful of milk for the effort, and struggled to keep the makeshift bowl upright.Lilting laughter pierced the countryside air. He turned to see her sitting upright on his coat, tail twitching.“Silly Daddy!”“Erm, how long have you been watching?”“Long enough,” she said, smiling.^^“Here,” he said. “I brought you something.”“Ooh! What?” He tail was twitching faster now.“Milk, it's called.”“Milk! I know what that is, it's, it's...”“Amazing?”“Yes!”“I thought you might enjoy it.”He started to hand her the bowl, and it was almost in her hands, when he said, “Wait...”“Mrow?”He placed it on the coat.“Now drink.”She reached for the bowl.“Not like that!” It came out much sharper than he had intended. “Um, humor me,” he said.“How, then? I wants it!”“On all fours.”“Hmmm,” she said as if debating the issue.But there was no debate, even if the silly mortal didn't know a catbaby from a hole in a cow pasture. It was more fun keeping him in the dark, anyway. She could no more disobey such a command than she could not be a kitten.Even so, it was adorable. The first attempt, she stuck her nose in the bowl, and had to withdraw. She shook her face and blew out droplets of milk on the grass.“Shut up,” she said.“I didn't say anything!”“You're still talking,,,” she said.On the second go, she attempted to master the tongue thing, and found it took more practice than such an ordinary function should. But the taste! She couldn't lap milk up fast enough.He watched, fascinated, as her claws flexed out a bit, instinctively, and she became more catlike. her tail switched to and fro, accenting her backside marvelously.He stroked her back, and she accepted his hand without question. Expected it, perhaps.When she was down to the last, she licked the last few drops from the leaf.“Braaaap.”“Excuse you. That wasn't very lady-like.”“I'm a catbaby. Being lady-like isn't a consideration for me. That was so good! Almost good enough to make me forget that you gave up the last of your food for me.”“Yes, well. How often does one get to introduce a catbaby to milk for the first time?”“That is a very good point indeed.”“I suppose I could have just fed you the kibble,” he said, more to himself than her.“Stop,” she said.He glanced her way.“I mean, please stop worrying, Daddy.”Sometimes she wondered if he did know more about catbabies than he let on.&&&Back on the rutted wagon trail, they chased the sun until he was forced to consider the possibility of shelter for the night. Barring an extremely coincidental barn or abandoned farmhouse, they were faced with a night in the outdoors, which simply wouldn't do at all. Catbaby though she was, she was also a lady.It was a fruitless, if considerate, line of thought. She could sleep anywhere. Marie shook her head, unsure whether to be touched or annoyed. But his imagined dilemma did lead them to an interesting discovery. The hilly terrain gave way to a ridge, which they began to follow in silent agreement.She smelled the water, and heard the rushing sounds long before he did.They walked hand in hand along the rock wall, down to where the ground grew sandy. The moon floated large on the rippling surface of the stream.“Yay!”, she said, releasing his hand and running the rest of the distance giggling. For a moment, he thought she was going in, but then she slowed to a walk, and dropped down for a drink. On her knees, at first, she started to scoop together two handfuls of water, and then thought better of it.The catbaby dropped onto all fours and lowered her head, instead. Clearly conscious of what she was doing, she gave her hindquarters a little shake, her tail broadcasting her excitement.It was, he found, useful that her tail could indicate so many moods. No matter how quizzically she spoke, how maddening her questions, he never had to guess as to how she was feeling. All women need tails, he thought. To himself, he hoped.Her mind reading was disconcerting was first. Then it became unnerving. At some point along the way, he came to the realization that he held no secrets from her, and ceased to be concerned with the intrusion.He reached her side, and she stood, wiping her mouth dry.“Good Daddy,” she said, smiling.Following a hunch, he led her around a bend, and found what he was after. It was a flat sandstone ledge, carved when the tributary was more voluminous and rapid in velocity, and forming a small sort of long, open-sided cave.“I'm very sorry,” he said. “I'm afraid we'll have to sleep here tonight.”“Why are you sorry?”“Because it's not what I had hoped for you, on your first night.”“But I had no expectation. I'm a catbaby. Where was I sleeping when I met you?”“Yes, but-”“So, by apologizing for an event of which I had no conception, you've actually diminished my confidence in you.”“I'm sor-”He was startled into silence when she hissed at him for the first time ever. Just as quickly, she was smiling. It was message enough, and he dropped the entire line of discussion.“Lay down,” he said, arranging his coat into a pillow for their heads.“Me-ow.”They crawled into the nook, just wide enough for two, and she pushed her back against him for warmth, until he took notice and wrapped his arms around her chest, holding her tight and still.Together, they watched the moonlight play upon the water, and listened to a symphony of crickets, frogs, and owls. They shared the beauty in silence, and he thought she had settled in after a few contented sighs.“So when are we going to do it?” she asked him, still facing away from him.“What? Do what?” he asked, instantly agitated.“Yooou knoooow,” she said in her most teasingest voice. “You think about me all the time.”And of course this was true.He was unable to come up with an effective answer to her question, so he just squeezed her tighter and said, “Ssshhhh.”It was, somehow, the right answer. She fell silent, contented by his direction, and went to sleep in short order
He had traveled for what seemed like ages, leaving himself far behind, on the other side of a vast tract of wasteland. In reality, it was about a month.Nevertheless.He had ridden until the beast could no longer be burdened. Ate it. Moved on. He walked until the sandals fell off of his feet, and his soles began to simmer and cook.His skin reddened, bronzed, blackened, peeled until he lost even his physical identity. His hair got lighter, exposing red highlights, like a hidden aspect of his personality brought to the fore.And his eyes. His eyes burned with a madness that could never again be contained.No one believed the old tales. Even now, moments from the culmination of his odyssey, he was unsure himself. More likely still that he, too, was a fool. Though even if he was, he was the better for it. The journey was the reward.Or perhaps the end was.He winced slightly as he ascended the slope. Jagged bits of volcanic glass accented each step.As he neared the crest, the clouds broke, and a wide ray of sunlight lit the caldera in a manner that was quite possibly divine in nature.Curled up in her nest, was the catbaby.He sucked in his breath as though he had been struck. In no way was he prepared for this. In fact, he had talked himself out of it halfway through.Awestruck, he watched as she began to yawn and stretch.“I know you're there,” she said to his amazement, never opening her eyes.“I...I...”“...Didn't know catbabies could talk? I'm sure what you don't know about catbabies could fill volumes.”He fumed. He hadn't considered that she could talk, but even if he had, he wouldn't have expected such a smart ass.Her tail twitched, and she was upright in an instant. Before he could react, she had leapt over the crag and was rubbing her face on his leg.“You found me,” she said. “Now what?”“I beg your pardon?”“Sheesh. Do you know anything at all?”“Neath rhe moon, loometh red
Venus at Orion's head
When the day and night both match
Then the catbaby doth be hatched”“First of all, that's terrible. You went on a quest based on this?”“Well... it was more the reverence with with you were referred.”“What does that mean? Anyway, catbabies aren't hatched. That's silly.”“How did you, um, where did you come from?”“I just woke up. Just now. That's all.”“But... Where did you come from?”“I just am.”She sat and nonchalantly licked her paw.“That would mean I risked everything for something that didn't exist.”“Maybe. Have you considered the possibility that I am in fact the manifestation of your desires and the resultant journey you undertook? That each painful step along the way went into the creation of my very being?”“No. No, I hadn't.”“Good. It's a silly thought. Look, I'm not going to teach you how to tame me.”“Can you be tamed?”“Absolutely not. It doesn't mean you can't try.”He fixed his brow with a determined gaze. “I just might indeed.”“Easy, Conan,” she laughed.“Who?”:”Cimmerian? Anyone?”“Sorry, no.”“You're not one of those Gorean bores, are you?”“A what?”“Ugh! So uncreative. Day in and day out.”“You lost me back there a bit.”Ignoring him, she continued on.“Put out your hand,” she told him.At this, he raised an eyebrow.“I mean, 'Please put out your hand, sir'.”He did so this time, and she stepped into his hand from the rock she had been crouching on. As she did , she began to change and shrink.A half-second later, she sat in his palm, a tiny teacup calico kitten, as vulnerable as an exposed heart.He blinked, sure this was a fever dream, and that he was dying of thirst in a canyon somewhere.She let out a mew, and suddenly his hand could no longer contain her, nor could his arm support her weight. Before he knew was was happening, she had him pinned beneath her full-sized cat form. She flexed her claws into him ever so slightly, and then let out a mid-volume roar.He shuddered, and then she was back to her regular catbaby form, a female of human persuasion, with a tail and distinctly feline features.Curled up on his chest, like it was the most natural thing in the world.What else could he do? He dozed with her, the desolate clearing suddenly the most comfortable bed one could imagine. Light and shadow played across their faces, animating their figures even as they remained immobile.He allowed himself, hesitatingly, to stroke her back. A sound somewhere between 'mmmm' and a sigh escaped her lips, and she...purred.When he awoke, after a nap that felt suspiciously like an eternity, it was to a rough tongue on his cheek.“Hello, magic catbaby here.”“Magic?” he said, opening his eyes to the light.“Silly! What else would you call it?”He considered this, and was forced to admit he didn't have a better word.“There's a certain...synergy...at work with catbabies.”“And what does that mean, exactly?”“I'm not sure,” she said simply, shrugging it off.He felt as if he had failed a test of some sort. There were protocols of every kind in his world, and he had mastered a great many of them. Verbal repartee with beautiful young women was not part of his skill set, much less shapeshifters, for lack of a better word.“Not a shapeshifter,” she said. “Try again.”“But a bit of a mindreader, though...”“There's that,” she said.“How old are you?”“What kind of question is that?”“It's just that you said you were just, um, born. I was just wondering.”“You sure do say 'just' a lot.”Her tail twitched, and she blinked sweetly.“You feel ancient.”“Wow. Smooth talker.”“Timeless.”“That's better. Word choice.”“Magical.”“There you go. But, if you must know,” she sniffed, “I am as mature as I am ever going to be.”She propped herself up with an elbow on his chest.“One might take that more than one way.”“One might take me more than one way, would one stop questioning everything. But if you must know, yes, catbabies are born with all the knowledge and experience of their predecessors. So, while I was technically conceived in your mind some time ago, I did come into existence when you looked at me. Before that, I was there/not there. Does that make any sense?”He nodded. Strangely enough, it rather did.“So, yes, timeless, etc. But I'm a kitten. By your standards...” She probed his mind slightly. “Fifteen.”“I see.”“Yes, and frankly I've done enough explaining for one day. I'm fifteen for a reason.”“What do I call you?”“Call me? I'm Kitty. Kitten. It's not like there are a lot of other catbabies roaming the countryside that you might confuse me with.”“We'll encounter other people some day. They might not appreciate you as fully as I do.”He was putting it mildly, and she did enjoy seeing the horrors he was willing to protect her from when she took a glimpse at his thoughts.“Mrow?”“Marie.”“Really? Why Marie, of all things?”“Why not Marie?”“I dunno. I was just thinking you would go more cliché, somehow.”“Thanks.”“I did ask a question...”“Marie, because it's a name that attempts to bridge adolescence and adulthood. The young girl-”“Catbaby,” she interrupted.“The young catbaby coming of age.”“That,” she said, “Is the most fantastically pervy thing you could have said.”His shoulders slumped, defeated.She tapped him on the shoulder with her tail.“Lighten up,” she said. “Daddy...”“What?” he said, taken aback.“Did you ever further consider that you are a manifestation of my wants and desires?”“I haven't been able to think in hours, to tell you the truth. I have lost all conception of reality.”“Well, you're my Daddy now. You don't get to choose that part.”“But why?”
“Why is it always 'why' with you? Don't question the wisdom of the ancients. If we're asking questions, I would ask you why we would ever have to leave here?”“It's a volcano!”“Yes, but my nest is cozy.”“You're mixing metaphors!”“I'm not sure it's metaphoric. Besides, it's a catnest.”Her logic was unassailable.“There's nothing to eat here.”“Please. Birds. Rabbits. It's what I do.”“You deserve a proper bed.”“Like, a nest with, um, grass or something? That might be nice.”“So you don't know what a bed is? A cushion? A house?”She blinked long feline lashes at him. “A what?”“Aha!” he said. “So I'm not at a total disadvantage!”“Did you just say that out loud?”“Erm.”“Of course you're not, silly. Honestly, it's so exhausting trying to drag you along. But if you were at a total disadvantage, as you say, what fun would that be?”“I suppose.”“So the only way for you to have a disadvantage, in what I have no idea, is for you to think you're at a disadvantage. So thank you for coming to the realization that you're not.”He tried to let that sink in. It was as if she possessed half of the world's knowledge, and he the other. Lock. Key. Cushion...bed.“So when are you going to mount me?” she asked, breaking his reverie.“What?”“I see where you're going, there. Yes, a bed might be nice. And a...fire?”“No one said anything about 'mounting'.”
“Drop the pretense. I scarcely need to read your mind for that.”“Okay. I admit that. But I never thought in such terms.”“Honey,” she said, “Have you ever seen two cats?”He considered this, and shuddered a bit.“Okay, one more catbaby protip. I said I was done an hour ago.”“I'm listening.”“Catbabies, upon bonding with a Daddy, mate for life.”“How would such a bonding occur?”“No more questions...” she said.With her words still echoing in his ears, she became a kitten again.Before tucking her into his shirt, he held her up and said, “In my village, 'Marie' means 'brat'...”The walk back down as much easier than he had expected. It was as if, instead of imposing a burden, she made his steps lighter. Either that, or she was doing freaky things to time. He glanced inside of his shirt twice along the way, to make sure she was still there.When he was back past the treeline, he had a idea.At a higher elevation, he had noticed a wide swathe of pasture, that wasn't visible from the road.A pasture with cows.His pack of stores was down to pemmican and a skin of water. But he needed something. His hat?Terrible idea.He settled upon a wide, flat leaf, which he stitched up with a few well-placed twigs, forming a workable bowl.Then he stretched his coat out for her in a sunlight-speckled patch of shade. He cradled her in both palms, and placed her there, trying his best not to wake her.Finally, he got down to the matter at hand.Of course, he understood how foolish it was to talk to a cow. At least, he would have thought that until today. But he had hoped soothing tones would lull them into compliance.“Come here, Bossy. That's a good cow. Who's a good cow?”Without startling them, he couldn't really get closer than five feet or so. They simply moved away as though following a prescribed minimum distance for cow-human interaction.If he had something to feed them... Which seemed to be a lost cause, given they were grazing already. Then an idea so horrible struck him, he almost couldn't bring himself to try.Almost.He checked on the sleeping catbaby, and got the pemmican from his knapsack. Goats ate anything, right? And goat were rather like tiny cows. Tiny bearded cows, he supposed.He scanned the herd for a particularly hungry looking cow, and learned that he was a poor judge of bovine hunger. Instead, he was reduced to walking slowly up to them, bag extended, in the hopes that they might catch a whiff of something they wanted.The first few didn't, and continued their pattern of diffident, though polite, rejection.But then one instead walked forward. It was a somewhat cross-eyed cow, which was off-putting. He considered whether he wanted to use this particular one, in fact. With little choice in the matter, he decided to go for it.He put a handful of the dried meat in his hand and extended within a few inches of it's nose.“Who's a crazy cow? Huh? Who's a good, crazy cannibal cow?”The creature bellowed. Apparently, it was.“Have a taste, Mr. Mrs. Cow.”It was eating out of the palm of his hand, as they say. And it tickled.What he held was gone with one swipe of a gigantic tongue. He had to work fast.He placed the remainder of his food on the ground in front of it, and moved to its side while it was distracted.He was an expert milker. Which was no big deal, as so was everyone he had ever known. To his delight, though, he was met with many large streams, which filled the bowl almost to brimming.He was trying to get a few squirts to himself when the cow began to walk off again, dragging him with it. He received a faceful of milk for the effort, and struggled to keep the makeshift bowl upright.Lilting laughter pierced the countryside air. He turned to see her sitting upright on his coat, tail twitching.“Silly Daddy!”“Erm, how long have you been watching?”“Long enough,” she said, smiling.^^“Here,” he said. “I brought you something.”“Ooh! What?” He tail was twitching faster now.“Milk, it's called.”“Milk! I know what that is, it's, it's...”“Amazing?”“Yes!”“I thought you might enjoy it.”He started to hand her the bowl, and it was almost in her hands, when he said, “Wait...”“Mrow?”He placed it on the coat.“Now drink.”She reached for the bowl.“Not like that!” It came out much sharper than he had intended. “Um, humor me,” he said.“How, then? I wants it!”“On all fours.”“Hmmm,” she said as if debating the issue.But there was no debate, even if the silly mortal didn't know a catbaby from a hole in a cow pasture. It was more fun keeping him in the dark, anyway. She could no more disobey such a command than she could not be a kitten.Even so, it was adorable. The first attempt, she stuck her nose in the bowl, and had to withdraw. She shook her face and blew out droplets of milk on the grass.“Shut up,” she said.“I didn't say anything!”“You're still talking,,,” she said.On the second go, she attempted to master the tongue thing, and found it took more practice than such an ordinary function should. But the taste! She couldn't lap milk up fast enough.He watched, fascinated, as her claws flexed out a bit, instinctively, and she became more catlike. her tail switched to and fro, accenting her backside marvelously.He stroked her back, and she accepted his hand without question. Expected it, perhaps.When she was down to the last, she licked the last few drops from the leaf.“Braaaap.”“Excuse you. That wasn't very lady-like.”“I'm a catbaby. Being lady-like isn't a consideration for me. That was so good! Almost good enough to make me forget that you gave up the last of your food for me.”“Yes, well. How often does one get to introduce a catbaby to milk for the first time?”“That is a very good point indeed.”“I suppose I could have just fed you the kibble,” he said, more to himself than her.“Stop,” she said.He glanced her way.“I mean, please stop worrying, Daddy.”Sometimes she wondered if he did know more about catbabies than he let on.&&&Back on the rutted wagon trail, they chased the sun until he was forced to consider the possibility of shelter for the night. Barring an extremely coincidental barn or abandoned farmhouse, they were faced with a night in the outdoors, which simply wouldn't do at all. Catbaby though she was, she was also a lady.It was a fruitless, if considerate, line of thought. She could sleep anywhere. Marie shook her head, unsure whether to be touched or annoyed. But his imagined dilemma did lead them to an interesting discovery. The hilly terrain gave way to a ridge, which they began to follow in silent agreement.She smelled the water, and heard the rushing sounds long before he did.They walked hand in hand along the rock wall, down to where the ground grew sandy. The moon floated large on the rippling surface of the stream.“Yay!”, she said, releasing his hand and running the rest of the distance giggling. For a moment, he thought she was going in, but then she slowed to a walk, and dropped down for a drink. On her knees, at first, she started to scoop together two handfuls of water, and then thought better of it.The catbaby dropped onto all fours and lowered her head, instead. Clearly conscious of what she was doing, she gave her hindquarters a little shake, her tail broadcasting her excitement.It was, he found, useful that her tail could indicate so many moods. No matter how quizzically she spoke, how maddening her questions, he never had to guess as to how she was feeling. All women need tails, he thought. To himself, he hoped.Her mind reading was disconcerting was first. Then it became unnerving. At some point along the way, he came to the realization that he held no secrets from her, and ceased to be concerned with the intrusion.He reached her side, and she stood, wiping her mouth dry.“Good Daddy,” she said, smiling.Following a hunch, he led her around a bend, and found what he was after. It was a flat sandstone ledge, carved when the tributary was more voluminous and rapid in velocity, and forming a small sort of long, open-sided cave.“I'm very sorry,” he said. “I'm afraid we'll have to sleep here tonight.”“Why are you sorry?”“Because it's not what I had hoped for you, on your first night.”“But I had no expectation. I'm a catbaby. Where was I sleeping when I met you?”“Yes, but-”“So, by apologizing for an event of which I had no conception, you've actually diminished my confidence in you.”“I'm sor-”He was startled into silence when she hissed at him for the first time ever. Just as quickly, she was smiling. It was message enough, and he dropped the entire line of discussion.“Lay down,” he said, arranging his coat into a pillow for their heads.“Me-ow.”They crawled into the nook, just wide enough for two, and she pushed her back against him for warmth, until he took notice and wrapped his arms around her chest, holding her tight and still.Together, they watched the moonlight play upon the water, and listened to a symphony of crickets, frogs, and owls. They shared the beauty in silence, and he thought she had settled in after a few contented sighs.“So when are we going to do it?” she asked him, still facing away from him.“What? Do what?” he asked, instantly agitated.“Yooou knoooow,” she said in her most teasingest voice. “You think about me all the time.”And of course this was true.He was unable to come up with an effective answer to her question, so he just squeezed her tighter and said, “Ssshhhh.”It was, somehow, the right answer. She fell silent, contented by his direction, and went to sleep in short order
Erotica - Charlotte's Troubles - Chapter 1
Soooo, I've been writing a bit on Fetlife, and it occurred to me, finally, to publish some of it here. If there's any interest, I'll continue, of course. I have written half of the second chapter already, and intend to finish it tonight or tomorrow.
SchooledThe headmaster sat at his desk grading papers, unaware of the presence in the room. He was more than a little absent-minded.“Achoo!”Even at this, he initially failed to look up. It was only when it dawned on him that class had been dismissed some fifteen minutes earlier that he decided to raised his head and investigate.“Charlotte?”“Yes, Sir?”“It's after three.”“Yes, Sir,” she agreed, offering no more.“Did I assign you punishment? It's hardly likely, as you're the most well-behaved student I have.”“No, Sir.”He creased his brow and attempted to grade another paper.Charlotte, was his oldest and most voluptuous student. At the same time, she seemed to be the most innocent and naive.His mind kept returning to her, somehow both invisible, and a looming presence, at the same time.It was a lost cause. There was no way he could work under these conditions. None. He began to gather his work, intending to finish the rest at home by candlelight.“Charlotte, would you like a ride? I'm afraid I have duties elsewhere.”“Oh, yes Sir!” she said, with a surprising amount of enthusiasm.“Very well. Come,” he said, and proffered his elbow.She held it daintily, but with a certain amount of pressure. Harmless, he thought. Innocent. He dismissed he thoughts as pure imagination.At the carriage, he stopped to help her aboard.“Charlotte...”“Yes, Sir?”“Where do you want me to take you?”“Wherever you want to, Sir.”She said this without any special emphasis, as though she was referring to cleaning erasers, or emptying a wastebasket.He headed toward the farm road that led to their corner of the village, that the fresh air would bring him to his senses.When he turned to look at her, he caught her eyes upon him, and she returned to her in-depth survey of her own lap.“Isn't the countryside beautiful in the evening, Charlotte?”“Yes, Sir. It is,” she agreed.“But not, I should say, as beautiful as you yourself are.”He face flushed red.“Thank you, Sir.”There was something about her demeanor. All women, he knew, were respectful, polite. Even somewhat acquiescent. But that was not the feeling her got from her at all.There had to be a way to test his theorem. A safe way.He turned down a branch road that essentially led to fallow farmland.“Charlotte, open your blouse.” he commanded her. So much for being subtle and cautious. He could scarcely believe what he had just said.“Yes, Sir,” she said, blushing again. And then she unlaced her bodice, presenting two snowy white breasts topped with red and hardening nipples.He momentarily dropped the reins.“Do you find this acceptable, Sir?”“Yes, Charlotte. Very good.”She ducked down, very close to him, and retrieved them, resting her considerable chest on his leg as she did so.“May I be of more service to you, Sir?”“Woah!” he called out, stopping the horses.“Did I say something wrong, Sir?”He ignored her remark, and turned to face her. Maintaining eye contact, he moved his mouth to one of her nipples.She smiled. “Thank you, Sir.”She was so sweet. So why did he want to...hurt her?He sucked harder on her nipple, starting to maul and pinch the other in unison. Heat rose from her body in waves, warming his face.Her response was to lay her head back and emit a light moan.In fact, the more he pulled and sucked, the more blissful she seemed to grow.To test his theory, he gave her a small bite, and then took his mouth off of her.“Charlotte?”“Yes, Sir?” she said, not opening her eyes.He slapped the top of her tit hard, leaving a red handprint.“Mmmm, thank you, Sir. May I suggest the riding crop?”Driven past the point of reason, he grabbed it from the floorboard between them and unleashed a flurry of increasingly painful blows.She accented each with a word. “Thank. You. Sir. Harder. Please. Sir.”Harder? He was becoming slightly frightened. This would be the end of his teaching career, to be sure. He began to worry about leaving marks on her, although she seemed utterly unconcerned with the world, other than being his pleasure at this moment in time.He placed her hand on his now hard cock through his pants.“Charlotte, do you know what this is?”“A reward for good girls, sir? Or perhaps a punishment for bad girls?”“I suppose it's both. But how can one punish a bad girl?”“By denying her, Sir.”That was the last straw. He was convinced that she knew exactly what she was doing, and that was enough to make his lose what was left of his tattered resolve.He walked around the carriage and removed a picnic blanket from the rear storage area.On her side, he opened the door.“Give me your hands,”“Yes, Sir,” she said, instantly, and put them together in front of her.He frowned, unsure of himself, at this stage. One simply didn't treat women like this.Charlotte, as if reading his mind, smiled.He removed his belt slowly, his eyes following hers. Her smiled wavered. Began to shrink.“You, Charlotte,” he said, testing the waters. Whether his or hers, he was unsure. “Are a very bad girl.”“Yes, Sir,” she said, closing her eyes and sobbing slightly.He looped the leather around her wrists individually, and then both together, stopping each time to take up the slack. By the time he secured the buckle, twin trails of tears were making their way down her cheeks.He pulled her out by her wrists, after helping her turn and get her feet out. It was oddly gentlemanly.He locked gazes with her, and slowly raised her arms above her head. He moved in close to her, and she knew what was coming.“Please, Sir... I've never...kissed.”He pulled her arms down behind her head until she gasped. And then he kissed her, mauling her tits as he forced his tongue into her mouth. The loss of control overwhelmed her, and her body shuddered.He pulled and stretched as she adapted to his insistent kiss until she began to squirm her hips against his.Abruptly, he cut it short, leaving her chasing him with her mouth. He raised her arms back above her head.“Turn.”Understanding, she slowly rotated as he took in the essential beauty of her figure.But when she faced away from him, he leaned her forward, back into the carrage.“Crawl,” he instructed, and lifted her knee onto the seat.It was difficult, her hands being suspended so, and the belt became more than a little uncomfortable.When she had reached the opposite door, and both of her knees were on the cushion, he slipped the belt over the outside latch and let go.“Sir...” she started to say.Even through her cotton dress, light though it was, and her slip, it was easily the most stinging pain she had ever encountered.“Thank you, Sir,” she said, sobbing.He uncovered her panty-less bottom.“Head down,” he told her.“Yes, Sir.”Already, she was exposing more of herself than anyone had ever seen. He sensed it as well.“Spread,” he said, not even finishing the sentence. It was all the instruction she needed, however, and she dutifully spread her knees as far s the seat would allow.“Yes, Sir...”She genuinely panicked when she felt him kiss the back of her legs, and tried in vain to get away. It seemed a curious reaction.“Please, Sir...no...”That was a mistake. His tongue speared her clit, and he delivered a series of lashes with the riding crop, punctuating each word.“Don't...tell...me...no.”“Ahh! Yes, Sir. I mean, No, Sir! I mean Yes, Sir.”She was orgasming, in complete loss of her faculties.Worse, yet, he didn't stop soon enough, eliciting a secondary series of throes, and causing her to quiver and spasm. It was a glory to behold.He took out his cock, and strongly considered swiping it up and down her leaking and swollen pussy.Instead, he leaned over her, kissed her cheek, and released her.“Thank, you, Sir...” she whispered.“Time to go, Charlotte,” he said.“Sir?”“Yes?”“May I...kneel?”He understood and took this in in silence.Then, decisively, he spread the blanket out, leaving it folded in half, and look her by the hand.“Charlotte?”“Yes, Sir?”“Kneel.”“With pleasure, Sir,” she said.He considered the possibility that the lack of “Yes, Sir,” was a punishable offense, and then dismissed the idea. Mere semantics. A grammatical construct.Then all thought left his mind. She began kissing his cockhead, and rubbing it on her face. Her tongue dragged up the length of his shaft from bottom to top. She popped the end of it into her mouth, and popped it back out with a cartoony sound.And she was just getting started.But when she slid her mouth down past the middle, and kept on going, it was too much to take. By the time she had taken his head into her rather too small throat, he was coming.His hands forced her head down deeper, until her nose touched his stomach, and he began to slide in and out of her, filling her mouth and throat until what she didn't swallow ran out of her lips.When he could bear it no longer, he pulled it out, and she tickled him with her tongue as he did so. Then she looked at him, beaming, and wiped some off of her chin into her mouth.“May I clean you, Sir?”He would have agreed to anything, at that point.“Yes, Charlotte. You may.”As much as he wanted to watch her, he was spent. He leaned his head back and was lost in the bliss of the moment he had just experienced. That such pleasures even existed!Charlotte licked the rest of the cum off of him with an unhurried attitude. But his head picked back up when he felt her tongue on his balls.When she tried to go even further down, he had to stop her.“Enough, Charlotte. Good girl.”She made no attempt to hide her disappointment, but her reply was melodic and proper, all the same.“Yes, Sir.”“And see me after class tomorrow.”###But the next day didn't go anything as planned, seeing as how he had given little thought to the school day itself. Indeed, he had thought of nothing else.His first indication was when he came to class. Intending to pay her no notice, he placed his study materials on the desk, and noticed an apple.A particularly shriveled and worm-eaten apple, unfit for consumption.Charlotte giggled. He spared her a glance, and saw the top button of her dress was unbuttoned.He looked away.Throughout the day, her subdued laughter peppered the classroom, giving the room an unruly air, and raising his ire.Finally, he was forced to reprimand her.“Charlotte, you're to stay for punishment today. Your behavior is atrocious.”“Yes, Sir.”She settled down a bit, and looked at her primer. But inside, she was ablaze.By the end of the day, the atmosphere was tense. In fact, her obedient silence became worrisome. He began to see her as dangerous simmering coals, innocuous in appearance, but capable of starting great fires, not given the proper attention.At five, the room emptied, and Charlotte sat looking at him. Her gaze didn't waver, even when he gave her notice.Turning his attention back to his work, he said, “I'll deal with you shortly, Charlotte. Frankly, your behavior was deplorable.”“Yes, Sir.” she said.When next he looked at her, her dress was above her knees.Already, he could take no more.“Charlotte. Come here at once.”His voice was curt, betraying only a hint of vexation.“Yes, Sir.”She rose slowly, walked over, and stood beside him. Her palms rested lightly against her thighs. It was torture, how badly she wanted to climb into his lap, to jump into his arms.“Do you know why you're to be punished today. Charlotte?”“Yes, Sir,” she said, offering no more than was asked of her.“Tell me,” he said, and turned to look her in the eyes.It was a position she found most uncomfortable.“The...the apple.”“Yes.”“Unruly behavior.”“Correct.”She stopped, unsure if 'unruly behavior' covered her multitudinous sins.“And...?”“Sir?”“Mockery...”A small, dull panic began to encompass her. Somehow she knew this was the worst offense. Other than refusal, of course.She could never refuse him.He plucked at the top of her dress.“Get these out.”“My breasts, sir?”“Decent ladies have breasts, Charlotte. You have tits. Get your tits out.”“Yes, Sir,” she said, and began to unlace her top. He face felt hot with the new level of arousal she was feeling.“Do you like them, Sir?”
She shook them a bit for emphasis.“Do I like what, Charlotte?” he said, unlacing his shoes.“My, tits, Sir...” she said, trying out the new words, and daring to go farther. “My big whore tits...”She confounded him so, he could scarcely complete the simple task of removing his shoes. He had initially worried about corrupting her. Now he was in danger of being corrupted himself, it seemed.In an effort to regain his senses, he said, “Kneel.”Before the word was fully out of his mouth, she was on her knees, backside resting on her legs. She hiked her skirt up halfway and averted her eyes, again placing her palms against her thighs.“Yes, Sir,” she said.It took every bit of his restraint to not simply unfasten his pants and give her what she so obviously wanted. The day before, her every pore broadcast her utter pleasure. But when she was on her knees, her face glowed with such sublime joy that it was almost difficult to behold.“Closer to the desk..”She moved, and waited for further instruction.He took the first of his shoelaces, and pulled it tight around one of her breasts, tying it roughly. It began to change from alabaster white to dark pink almost instantly, and she moaned. “Please...”Charlotte was unsure of what she was even asking for.By the time he had tied the other, she was in her own world. Eyes closed, he mouth hung open. She drooled slightly, paying no attention to that fact whatsoever.She did peek when he stood open. She had hoped to have her mouth and throat stuffed again. It made her spasm up and down her entire body. She wondered if he understood the phenomenon.To her regret, he grabbed the pointer from the chalkboard, instead.“Place your tits on the desk, Charlotte.”“Yes, Sir,” she said, starting to sob. Not from the expectation of punishment, but from the belief that she had transgressed.She raised herself above the desktop, and then settled down slowly, in order to inflict as little pain as possible on her swollen chest.“Will you play pranks again, Charlotte?”“No, Sir!” she said at volume.The pointer came down across her creamy flesh, leaving dual red welts stretched across her in a perfect line.“Please, Sir!” She was sobbing uncontrollably.“Will you misbehave?”“No! No, Sir! Please, Sir!”Again, her brought the pointer down, with considerably more force this time. Tears leapt from her eyes as she wept openly. It was the third blow she feared.“Will you mock me ever again?”“No, Sir! I swear I won't, Sir, ever!”He wiped her brow.“Charlotte, you know what I must do, don't you?”“Y-yes, Sir.”She did. It had to be done. It was the only way she would learn.The third swat caused her to scream, and she began to leak down her thighs.He leaned over and kissed the top of her head most tenderly, and her lamentations began to quell.“Up,” he said, swatting her bottom.She raised only her bottom half, having never been released from her position.He raised her skirt to find only a slip, and her bare young ass.She almost tried to crawl away when she felt his fingers around her...bum. He spread it roughly with his fingers, and it burned slightly. This had never even been something she could have imagined. Most degrading of all, she knew he was looking at her.Her juices began to flow faster, and he shoved her forward across the desk, where she lay flat against it, leaving her most vulnerable areas fully exposed for his inspection.“You're a lovely girl, Charlotte,” he said in sincerity.“Thank you, Sir,” she said brightly, all hint of her tears gone.Three swift strikes to her bottom with the forgotten pointer made her eyes open wide, happening so fast, she could scarcely react at all. All she could manage was a single cry loud cry before she caught herself and went silent again.He walked over to her face, and raised it to his own, kissing her lips with the perfect amount of force and gentleness.“Don't tell me no, Charlotte.”“No, Sir!” She said.“Good girl.”He pulled himself out of his trousers.“You're to clean the blackboard.”“Yes, Sir,” she said, eager to serve. He indicated the pail and washcloth that sat on the floor near the corner of it.Without having been ordered, she merely looked and acknowledged.He placed her hand on his cock, where it was desperate to be, and she became instantly more contented, any possible agitation or anxiety melting away.“You're to keep your hand there, if nothing else, at all times, unless told otherwise. Do you understand?”“Oh, yes, Sir!” she said in earnest. To be ordered to keep contact with him at all times. Such license! Charlotte's heart could scarcely be contained.She knew it was a small trap he had laid for her, when a moment later, he began to walk toward the board, forcing her to follow on her knees across the rough wooden floor or make the mistake of breaking contact with him. And she didn't feel she could afford any mistakes at this point.“Stand and face the board.”“Yes, Sir.”She did, her hand never leaving his now swollen member. He shoved her forward roughly until her breasts were flattened against the dirty chalkboard. The white chalk showed brightly on her throbbing red tits, giving them the appearance of raspberry doughnuts covered in powdered sugar.He placed the wet rag in her left hand, and raised it to the board above her head.“Clean it. Now,” he said. “Left to right, top to bottom.”She struggled to obey, leaving a clean wet surface above her as she moved, and the twin trails her chest left behind as her nippled began to be rubbed raw.When she began her third pass, she tried to lean down a bit in order to better reach.“Kneel.”It was her single favorite word, and she instantly dropped back onto her sore knees.He placed his cock in her mouth. Not only in her mouth, but down her throat, to the hilt. He held her head tightly with one hand, and caressed it in a tender manner with the other.Charlotte was ecstatic.Slowly, they made their way across the final pass, and Charlotte got to try many of the things she had been thinking of the night before in lieu of sleep.When she had reached the last inch of the board, she dropped the rag on the ground. With one hand, she gripped his cock hard and stroked it furiously at her open mouth, while her other hand held him close to her. Her mouth was open wide, long hanging out, and the look in her eyes was almost crazed.“Feed me, Sir! Please, Sir! Feed me...Master!”Her audacity overloaded his senses, causing him to empty himself onto her broad, cupped tongue, until it held a visible pool.He wiped it across her face, and she smiled, never moving her tongue until he was done. When he had, she closed her mouth and slowly drank him down.Without being directed, she took him back into her mouth and licked the end of him with vigor, deliberately ticking him beyond belief.“You, Charlotte,” he said, exhausted, “are a brat...”
SchooledThe headmaster sat at his desk grading papers, unaware of the presence in the room. He was more than a little absent-minded.“Achoo!”Even at this, he initially failed to look up. It was only when it dawned on him that class had been dismissed some fifteen minutes earlier that he decided to raised his head and investigate.“Charlotte?”“Yes, Sir?”“It's after three.”“Yes, Sir,” she agreed, offering no more.“Did I assign you punishment? It's hardly likely, as you're the most well-behaved student I have.”“No, Sir.”He creased his brow and attempted to grade another paper.Charlotte, was his oldest and most voluptuous student. At the same time, she seemed to be the most innocent and naive.His mind kept returning to her, somehow both invisible, and a looming presence, at the same time.It was a lost cause. There was no way he could work under these conditions. None. He began to gather his work, intending to finish the rest at home by candlelight.“Charlotte, would you like a ride? I'm afraid I have duties elsewhere.”“Oh, yes Sir!” she said, with a surprising amount of enthusiasm.“Very well. Come,” he said, and proffered his elbow.She held it daintily, but with a certain amount of pressure. Harmless, he thought. Innocent. He dismissed he thoughts as pure imagination.At the carriage, he stopped to help her aboard.“Charlotte...”“Yes, Sir?”“Where do you want me to take you?”“Wherever you want to, Sir.”She said this without any special emphasis, as though she was referring to cleaning erasers, or emptying a wastebasket.He headed toward the farm road that led to their corner of the village, that the fresh air would bring him to his senses.When he turned to look at her, he caught her eyes upon him, and she returned to her in-depth survey of her own lap.“Isn't the countryside beautiful in the evening, Charlotte?”“Yes, Sir. It is,” she agreed.“But not, I should say, as beautiful as you yourself are.”He face flushed red.“Thank you, Sir.”There was something about her demeanor. All women, he knew, were respectful, polite. Even somewhat acquiescent. But that was not the feeling her got from her at all.There had to be a way to test his theorem. A safe way.He turned down a branch road that essentially led to fallow farmland.“Charlotte, open your blouse.” he commanded her. So much for being subtle and cautious. He could scarcely believe what he had just said.“Yes, Sir,” she said, blushing again. And then she unlaced her bodice, presenting two snowy white breasts topped with red and hardening nipples.He momentarily dropped the reins.“Do you find this acceptable, Sir?”“Yes, Charlotte. Very good.”She ducked down, very close to him, and retrieved them, resting her considerable chest on his leg as she did so.“May I be of more service to you, Sir?”“Woah!” he called out, stopping the horses.“Did I say something wrong, Sir?”He ignored her remark, and turned to face her. Maintaining eye contact, he moved his mouth to one of her nipples.She smiled. “Thank you, Sir.”She was so sweet. So why did he want to...hurt her?He sucked harder on her nipple, starting to maul and pinch the other in unison. Heat rose from her body in waves, warming his face.Her response was to lay her head back and emit a light moan.In fact, the more he pulled and sucked, the more blissful she seemed to grow.To test his theory, he gave her a small bite, and then took his mouth off of her.“Charlotte?”“Yes, Sir?” she said, not opening her eyes.He slapped the top of her tit hard, leaving a red handprint.“Mmmm, thank you, Sir. May I suggest the riding crop?”Driven past the point of reason, he grabbed it from the floorboard between them and unleashed a flurry of increasingly painful blows.She accented each with a word. “Thank. You. Sir. Harder. Please. Sir.”Harder? He was becoming slightly frightened. This would be the end of his teaching career, to be sure. He began to worry about leaving marks on her, although she seemed utterly unconcerned with the world, other than being his pleasure at this moment in time.He placed her hand on his now hard cock through his pants.“Charlotte, do you know what this is?”“A reward for good girls, sir? Or perhaps a punishment for bad girls?”“I suppose it's both. But how can one punish a bad girl?”“By denying her, Sir.”That was the last straw. He was convinced that she knew exactly what she was doing, and that was enough to make his lose what was left of his tattered resolve.He walked around the carriage and removed a picnic blanket from the rear storage area.On her side, he opened the door.“Give me your hands,”“Yes, Sir,” she said, instantly, and put them together in front of her.He frowned, unsure of himself, at this stage. One simply didn't treat women like this.Charlotte, as if reading his mind, smiled.He removed his belt slowly, his eyes following hers. Her smiled wavered. Began to shrink.“You, Charlotte,” he said, testing the waters. Whether his or hers, he was unsure. “Are a very bad girl.”“Yes, Sir,” she said, closing her eyes and sobbing slightly.He looped the leather around her wrists individually, and then both together, stopping each time to take up the slack. By the time he secured the buckle, twin trails of tears were making their way down her cheeks.He pulled her out by her wrists, after helping her turn and get her feet out. It was oddly gentlemanly.He locked gazes with her, and slowly raised her arms above her head. He moved in close to her, and she knew what was coming.“Please, Sir... I've never...kissed.”He pulled her arms down behind her head until she gasped. And then he kissed her, mauling her tits as he forced his tongue into her mouth. The loss of control overwhelmed her, and her body shuddered.He pulled and stretched as she adapted to his insistent kiss until she began to squirm her hips against his.Abruptly, he cut it short, leaving her chasing him with her mouth. He raised her arms back above her head.“Turn.”Understanding, she slowly rotated as he took in the essential beauty of her figure.But when she faced away from him, he leaned her forward, back into the carrage.“Crawl,” he instructed, and lifted her knee onto the seat.It was difficult, her hands being suspended so, and the belt became more than a little uncomfortable.When she had reached the opposite door, and both of her knees were on the cushion, he slipped the belt over the outside latch and let go.“Sir...” she started to say.Even through her cotton dress, light though it was, and her slip, it was easily the most stinging pain she had ever encountered.“Thank you, Sir,” she said, sobbing.He uncovered her panty-less bottom.“Head down,” he told her.“Yes, Sir.”Already, she was exposing more of herself than anyone had ever seen. He sensed it as well.“Spread,” he said, not even finishing the sentence. It was all the instruction she needed, however, and she dutifully spread her knees as far s the seat would allow.“Yes, Sir...”She genuinely panicked when she felt him kiss the back of her legs, and tried in vain to get away. It seemed a curious reaction.“Please, Sir...no...”That was a mistake. His tongue speared her clit, and he delivered a series of lashes with the riding crop, punctuating each word.“Don't...tell...me...no.”“Ahh! Yes, Sir. I mean, No, Sir! I mean Yes, Sir.”She was orgasming, in complete loss of her faculties.Worse, yet, he didn't stop soon enough, eliciting a secondary series of throes, and causing her to quiver and spasm. It was a glory to behold.He took out his cock, and strongly considered swiping it up and down her leaking and swollen pussy.Instead, he leaned over her, kissed her cheek, and released her.“Thank, you, Sir...” she whispered.“Time to go, Charlotte,” he said.“Sir?”“Yes?”“May I...kneel?”He understood and took this in in silence.Then, decisively, he spread the blanket out, leaving it folded in half, and look her by the hand.“Charlotte?”“Yes, Sir?”“Kneel.”“With pleasure, Sir,” she said.He considered the possibility that the lack of “Yes, Sir,” was a punishable offense, and then dismissed the idea. Mere semantics. A grammatical construct.Then all thought left his mind. She began kissing his cockhead, and rubbing it on her face. Her tongue dragged up the length of his shaft from bottom to top. She popped the end of it into her mouth, and popped it back out with a cartoony sound.And she was just getting started.But when she slid her mouth down past the middle, and kept on going, it was too much to take. By the time she had taken his head into her rather too small throat, he was coming.His hands forced her head down deeper, until her nose touched his stomach, and he began to slide in and out of her, filling her mouth and throat until what she didn't swallow ran out of her lips.When he could bear it no longer, he pulled it out, and she tickled him with her tongue as he did so. Then she looked at him, beaming, and wiped some off of her chin into her mouth.“May I clean you, Sir?”He would have agreed to anything, at that point.“Yes, Charlotte. You may.”As much as he wanted to watch her, he was spent. He leaned his head back and was lost in the bliss of the moment he had just experienced. That such pleasures even existed!Charlotte licked the rest of the cum off of him with an unhurried attitude. But his head picked back up when he felt her tongue on his balls.When she tried to go even further down, he had to stop her.“Enough, Charlotte. Good girl.”She made no attempt to hide her disappointment, but her reply was melodic and proper, all the same.“Yes, Sir.”“And see me after class tomorrow.”###But the next day didn't go anything as planned, seeing as how he had given little thought to the school day itself. Indeed, he had thought of nothing else.His first indication was when he came to class. Intending to pay her no notice, he placed his study materials on the desk, and noticed an apple.A particularly shriveled and worm-eaten apple, unfit for consumption.Charlotte giggled. He spared her a glance, and saw the top button of her dress was unbuttoned.He looked away.Throughout the day, her subdued laughter peppered the classroom, giving the room an unruly air, and raising his ire.Finally, he was forced to reprimand her.“Charlotte, you're to stay for punishment today. Your behavior is atrocious.”“Yes, Sir.”She settled down a bit, and looked at her primer. But inside, she was ablaze.By the end of the day, the atmosphere was tense. In fact, her obedient silence became worrisome. He began to see her as dangerous simmering coals, innocuous in appearance, but capable of starting great fires, not given the proper attention.At five, the room emptied, and Charlotte sat looking at him. Her gaze didn't waver, even when he gave her notice.Turning his attention back to his work, he said, “I'll deal with you shortly, Charlotte. Frankly, your behavior was deplorable.”“Yes, Sir.” she said.When next he looked at her, her dress was above her knees.Already, he could take no more.“Charlotte. Come here at once.”His voice was curt, betraying only a hint of vexation.“Yes, Sir.”She rose slowly, walked over, and stood beside him. Her palms rested lightly against her thighs. It was torture, how badly she wanted to climb into his lap, to jump into his arms.“Do you know why you're to be punished today. Charlotte?”“Yes, Sir,” she said, offering no more than was asked of her.“Tell me,” he said, and turned to look her in the eyes.It was a position she found most uncomfortable.“The...the apple.”“Yes.”“Unruly behavior.”“Correct.”She stopped, unsure if 'unruly behavior' covered her multitudinous sins.“And...?”“Sir?”“Mockery...”A small, dull panic began to encompass her. Somehow she knew this was the worst offense. Other than refusal, of course.She could never refuse him.He plucked at the top of her dress.“Get these out.”“My breasts, sir?”“Decent ladies have breasts, Charlotte. You have tits. Get your tits out.”“Yes, Sir,” she said, and began to unlace her top. He face felt hot with the new level of arousal she was feeling.“Do you like them, Sir?”
She shook them a bit for emphasis.“Do I like what, Charlotte?” he said, unlacing his shoes.“My, tits, Sir...” she said, trying out the new words, and daring to go farther. “My big whore tits...”She confounded him so, he could scarcely complete the simple task of removing his shoes. He had initially worried about corrupting her. Now he was in danger of being corrupted himself, it seemed.In an effort to regain his senses, he said, “Kneel.”Before the word was fully out of his mouth, she was on her knees, backside resting on her legs. She hiked her skirt up halfway and averted her eyes, again placing her palms against her thighs.“Yes, Sir,” she said.It took every bit of his restraint to not simply unfasten his pants and give her what she so obviously wanted. The day before, her every pore broadcast her utter pleasure. But when she was on her knees, her face glowed with such sublime joy that it was almost difficult to behold.“Closer to the desk..”She moved, and waited for further instruction.He took the first of his shoelaces, and pulled it tight around one of her breasts, tying it roughly. It began to change from alabaster white to dark pink almost instantly, and she moaned. “Please...”Charlotte was unsure of what she was even asking for.By the time he had tied the other, she was in her own world. Eyes closed, he mouth hung open. She drooled slightly, paying no attention to that fact whatsoever.She did peek when he stood open. She had hoped to have her mouth and throat stuffed again. It made her spasm up and down her entire body. She wondered if he understood the phenomenon.To her regret, he grabbed the pointer from the chalkboard, instead.“Place your tits on the desk, Charlotte.”“Yes, Sir,” she said, starting to sob. Not from the expectation of punishment, but from the belief that she had transgressed.She raised herself above the desktop, and then settled down slowly, in order to inflict as little pain as possible on her swollen chest.“Will you play pranks again, Charlotte?”“No, Sir!” she said at volume.The pointer came down across her creamy flesh, leaving dual red welts stretched across her in a perfect line.“Please, Sir!” She was sobbing uncontrollably.“Will you misbehave?”“No! No, Sir! Please, Sir!”Again, her brought the pointer down, with considerably more force this time. Tears leapt from her eyes as she wept openly. It was the third blow she feared.“Will you mock me ever again?”“No, Sir! I swear I won't, Sir, ever!”He wiped her brow.“Charlotte, you know what I must do, don't you?”“Y-yes, Sir.”She did. It had to be done. It was the only way she would learn.The third swat caused her to scream, and she began to leak down her thighs.He leaned over and kissed the top of her head most tenderly, and her lamentations began to quell.“Up,” he said, swatting her bottom.She raised only her bottom half, having never been released from her position.He raised her skirt to find only a slip, and her bare young ass.She almost tried to crawl away when she felt his fingers around her...bum. He spread it roughly with his fingers, and it burned slightly. This had never even been something she could have imagined. Most degrading of all, she knew he was looking at her.Her juices began to flow faster, and he shoved her forward across the desk, where she lay flat against it, leaving her most vulnerable areas fully exposed for his inspection.“You're a lovely girl, Charlotte,” he said in sincerity.“Thank you, Sir,” she said brightly, all hint of her tears gone.Three swift strikes to her bottom with the forgotten pointer made her eyes open wide, happening so fast, she could scarcely react at all. All she could manage was a single cry loud cry before she caught herself and went silent again.He walked over to her face, and raised it to his own, kissing her lips with the perfect amount of force and gentleness.“Don't tell me no, Charlotte.”“No, Sir!” She said.“Good girl.”He pulled himself out of his trousers.“You're to clean the blackboard.”“Yes, Sir,” she said, eager to serve. He indicated the pail and washcloth that sat on the floor near the corner of it.Without having been ordered, she merely looked and acknowledged.He placed her hand on his cock, where it was desperate to be, and she became instantly more contented, any possible agitation or anxiety melting away.“You're to keep your hand there, if nothing else, at all times, unless told otherwise. Do you understand?”“Oh, yes, Sir!” she said in earnest. To be ordered to keep contact with him at all times. Such license! Charlotte's heart could scarcely be contained.She knew it was a small trap he had laid for her, when a moment later, he began to walk toward the board, forcing her to follow on her knees across the rough wooden floor or make the mistake of breaking contact with him. And she didn't feel she could afford any mistakes at this point.“Stand and face the board.”“Yes, Sir.”She did, her hand never leaving his now swollen member. He shoved her forward roughly until her breasts were flattened against the dirty chalkboard. The white chalk showed brightly on her throbbing red tits, giving them the appearance of raspberry doughnuts covered in powdered sugar.He placed the wet rag in her left hand, and raised it to the board above her head.“Clean it. Now,” he said. “Left to right, top to bottom.”She struggled to obey, leaving a clean wet surface above her as she moved, and the twin trails her chest left behind as her nippled began to be rubbed raw.When she began her third pass, she tried to lean down a bit in order to better reach.“Kneel.”It was her single favorite word, and she instantly dropped back onto her sore knees.He placed his cock in her mouth. Not only in her mouth, but down her throat, to the hilt. He held her head tightly with one hand, and caressed it in a tender manner with the other.Charlotte was ecstatic.Slowly, they made their way across the final pass, and Charlotte got to try many of the things she had been thinking of the night before in lieu of sleep.When she had reached the last inch of the board, she dropped the rag on the ground. With one hand, she gripped his cock hard and stroked it furiously at her open mouth, while her other hand held him close to her. Her mouth was open wide, long hanging out, and the look in her eyes was almost crazed.“Feed me, Sir! Please, Sir! Feed me...Master!”Her audacity overloaded his senses, causing him to empty himself onto her broad, cupped tongue, until it held a visible pool.He wiped it across her face, and she smiled, never moving her tongue until he was done. When he had, she closed her mouth and slowly drank him down.Without being directed, she took him back into her mouth and licked the end of him with vigor, deliberately ticking him beyond belief.“You, Charlotte,” he said, exhausted, “are a brat...”
January 10, 2016
I hope you're enjoying the new book
Because now I have to write the rest of it. It's a rewrite, so I plan to have it done in a few weeks, at most. It will be an exclusive for my new ebook publisher.
You can find all of the chapters on my blog, but chapter 1 is here:
http://jasonzchristie.blogspot.com/2012/12/penultimate-hustle-la-chapter-one.html
As always, all feedback is appreciated. Then mostly ignored. ; ) Also, if you enjoy Chris and Janique's exploits, be sure to read Radar Love, Penultimate Hustle: Japan, and An Ultimate Hustle Primer...
Peace,
Jason
You can find all of the chapters on my blog, but chapter 1 is here:
http://jasonzchristie.blogspot.com/2012/12/penultimate-hustle-la-chapter-one.html
As always, all feedback is appreciated. Then mostly ignored. ; ) Also, if you enjoy Chris and Janique's exploits, be sure to read Radar Love, Penultimate Hustle: Japan, and An Ultimate Hustle Primer...
Peace,
Jason
Penultimate Hustle: L.A. - Chapter 19
Chapter 19 - Happening It was the day of the big event. Tokio stayed over in the girl's room with Mia, Gia, and Lateesha. He eventually had to beg them to let him rest.
Akira and Yumi were given the honor of being the first to spend the night in the medieval room. It was unlike anything they had experienced before, and became a second blissful honeymoon for them both.When Chris and Janique arrived, there was a Silver Shadow Rolls-Royce parked out front. They assumed it was a client visiting the law offices downstairs.“Good morning, Janice,” Janique said.“Good morning. Northwest Video accepted your terms. I put five hundred thousand in the bank today.”“Wow. Great news! Thanks.”“It's especially impressive when you consider that the escort income alone is covering the rent and utilities, and both stores are showing a profit.”“I know! It's so exciting. But we have a lot of contract salaries to cover.”“Have you considered doing your own publicity to promote the films? The right event could put you over the top.”“I'll have to think about that. Is everything ready for tonight?”“The bedding and dividers are being set up now. The limos and security will be here to pick everyone up at four. Doors open at six.”“Are you coming?”“Me? Goodness, no. Don't be absurd.”“Aww. If everything's under control, I think we'll go to breakfast.”Janice nodded.Less than an hour after she and Chris left, the girls came en masse to Janice's office.“Aunt Janice, we're bored. Tokio says he's sore,” Gia said.She pondered the situation for a moment, then gave her a hundred dollars from petty cash.“Go to the store and get buckets, towels, and soap. The Rolls downstairs needs washing.”“Yay!” the girls said.When Chris and Janique returned, they found the girls out front in panties and wet t-shirts, drawing a crowd.“What are y'all doing?” Janique asked.“Washing Ms. Janice's car,” Lateesha said.“This is hers?”The girls all nodded.“Stop,” Chris said. “These towels are going to scratch the finish.” He pulled out a hundred. “Go to Pep Boys and get chamois and a hose, bee's wax and Armor All. Then come see me.”“Yes, sir,” Gia said.Upstairs, Chris said, “Janice, those girls don't know how to take care of a car like that. What are you thinking?”She shrugged. “It's just a car.”“Just a car? It's worth their entire contract.”“Meh,” Janice said. “It's only money.”“I could never see myself having that attitude.”“With the money you're set to make, you will. The girls are happy. That matters to me.”“I guess. It's just that car. Wow. I was thrilled to get the Camaro.”“You'll lose your blue collar prejudices after your first twenty million. After your first fifty, things start to get weird. By the way, I called a few news channels about tonight's event. Expect TV and radio coverage...”“Sounds like a good idea. I hope they don't interfere.”“With the security you have, they'll never set foot on the property uninvited. Neither will L.A.P.D.”“That's good. Because-”“You hate cops. Yes, I know.”“We're back, Mr. Chris,” Lateesha said, behind him.He turned to look at her, and a thought occurred to him. “Better have a thousand t-shirts made, too,” he told Janice. “Male and female, mixed sizes and colors.”“I'm on it.”He gave the girls instructions on how to care for the Rolls. “Here's a key to the water outside. Hook up the hose and refill the buckets with clean water. How did you fill them the first time?”“In the kitchen. Then we took the elevator,” Mia said.“Work smarter, not harder. Anyway, use the chamois to wash the car, and rinse everything often. Use lots of soap. Then dry it with clean ones. Don't leave any water, or it will spot. Armor All the tires and rims. The bee's wax is for the glass and wood interior. Wipe it on clean, and use another one to wipe it off. Got it?”“Yes, sir,” Gia said. “Sorry, sir...”“Not your fault.”“Can we all suck your cock, Mr. Chris?” Lateesha asked.“No,” he said, then felt bad about being so harsh.. “Maybe later, okay?” The girls smiled, and went off to finish their task.###By three-thirty, everyone was showered, shaved, and dressed. Brad, Dana, and Leo were off setting up the computers. The four girls were in their room, so excited, they were wet. Poor Kiki had to babysit, missing it entirely. She was happy to have Dulce spending the night with her, though. Chris and Janique were sitting in Janice's office, when two of the biggest dudes they had ever seen walked in. They looked like they had just come from the prison weight pile, complete with red bandannas on their heads, except for their tailored Brooks Brothers suits.“Hello, Rid, O.M.B.,” Janice said.“Hey, Miss Janice,” Rid said. “How you been?”“Good, thank you. How about yourself?”“Doin' good. It's nice to stay out of jail. O.M.B.'s learning to play bass. We're gonna cut a record.”“Oh? How exciting. R & B?”“Rap. Hip-hop, it's called.”“I'm afraid I'm not familiar with the genre.”“Check it,” Rid said, and nodded at O.M.B., who began making drum sounds with his mouth.“Once upon a drive-by...” Rid began.When he had finished, everyone smiled and clapped, having never heard anything like it before, except for Chris, who had heard a few raps in prison.“Hmm,” Janice said. “It's almost like ultra-violent beat poetry. Interesting.”“We gonna take over L.A. with this,” Rid said. “The first Samoan rap group.”“Not my speed, but I wish you boys luck,” Janice said.“Y'all ready to roll?” Rid asked.Everyone nodded, and began to head downstairs to the limos, ready to make history.
Akira and Yumi were given the honor of being the first to spend the night in the medieval room. It was unlike anything they had experienced before, and became a second blissful honeymoon for them both.When Chris and Janique arrived, there was a Silver Shadow Rolls-Royce parked out front. They assumed it was a client visiting the law offices downstairs.“Good morning, Janice,” Janique said.“Good morning. Northwest Video accepted your terms. I put five hundred thousand in the bank today.”“Wow. Great news! Thanks.”“It's especially impressive when you consider that the escort income alone is covering the rent and utilities, and both stores are showing a profit.”“I know! It's so exciting. But we have a lot of contract salaries to cover.”“Have you considered doing your own publicity to promote the films? The right event could put you over the top.”“I'll have to think about that. Is everything ready for tonight?”“The bedding and dividers are being set up now. The limos and security will be here to pick everyone up at four. Doors open at six.”“Are you coming?”“Me? Goodness, no. Don't be absurd.”“Aww. If everything's under control, I think we'll go to breakfast.”Janice nodded.Less than an hour after she and Chris left, the girls came en masse to Janice's office.“Aunt Janice, we're bored. Tokio says he's sore,” Gia said.She pondered the situation for a moment, then gave her a hundred dollars from petty cash.“Go to the store and get buckets, towels, and soap. The Rolls downstairs needs washing.”“Yay!” the girls said.When Chris and Janique returned, they found the girls out front in panties and wet t-shirts, drawing a crowd.“What are y'all doing?” Janique asked.“Washing Ms. Janice's car,” Lateesha said.“This is hers?”The girls all nodded.“Stop,” Chris said. “These towels are going to scratch the finish.” He pulled out a hundred. “Go to Pep Boys and get chamois and a hose, bee's wax and Armor All. Then come see me.”“Yes, sir,” Gia said.Upstairs, Chris said, “Janice, those girls don't know how to take care of a car like that. What are you thinking?”She shrugged. “It's just a car.”“Just a car? It's worth their entire contract.”“Meh,” Janice said. “It's only money.”“I could never see myself having that attitude.”“With the money you're set to make, you will. The girls are happy. That matters to me.”“I guess. It's just that car. Wow. I was thrilled to get the Camaro.”“You'll lose your blue collar prejudices after your first twenty million. After your first fifty, things start to get weird. By the way, I called a few news channels about tonight's event. Expect TV and radio coverage...”“Sounds like a good idea. I hope they don't interfere.”“With the security you have, they'll never set foot on the property uninvited. Neither will L.A.P.D.”“That's good. Because-”“You hate cops. Yes, I know.”“We're back, Mr. Chris,” Lateesha said, behind him.He turned to look at her, and a thought occurred to him. “Better have a thousand t-shirts made, too,” he told Janice. “Male and female, mixed sizes and colors.”“I'm on it.”He gave the girls instructions on how to care for the Rolls. “Here's a key to the water outside. Hook up the hose and refill the buckets with clean water. How did you fill them the first time?”“In the kitchen. Then we took the elevator,” Mia said.“Work smarter, not harder. Anyway, use the chamois to wash the car, and rinse everything often. Use lots of soap. Then dry it with clean ones. Don't leave any water, or it will spot. Armor All the tires and rims. The bee's wax is for the glass and wood interior. Wipe it on clean, and use another one to wipe it off. Got it?”“Yes, sir,” Gia said. “Sorry, sir...”“Not your fault.”“Can we all suck your cock, Mr. Chris?” Lateesha asked.“No,” he said, then felt bad about being so harsh.. “Maybe later, okay?” The girls smiled, and went off to finish their task.###By three-thirty, everyone was showered, shaved, and dressed. Brad, Dana, and Leo were off setting up the computers. The four girls were in their room, so excited, they were wet. Poor Kiki had to babysit, missing it entirely. She was happy to have Dulce spending the night with her, though. Chris and Janique were sitting in Janice's office, when two of the biggest dudes they had ever seen walked in. They looked like they had just come from the prison weight pile, complete with red bandannas on their heads, except for their tailored Brooks Brothers suits.“Hello, Rid, O.M.B.,” Janice said.“Hey, Miss Janice,” Rid said. “How you been?”“Good, thank you. How about yourself?”“Doin' good. It's nice to stay out of jail. O.M.B.'s learning to play bass. We're gonna cut a record.”“Oh? How exciting. R & B?”“Rap. Hip-hop, it's called.”“I'm afraid I'm not familiar with the genre.”“Check it,” Rid said, and nodded at O.M.B., who began making drum sounds with his mouth.“Once upon a drive-by...” Rid began.When he had finished, everyone smiled and clapped, having never heard anything like it before, except for Chris, who had heard a few raps in prison.“Hmm,” Janice said. “It's almost like ultra-violent beat poetry. Interesting.”“We gonna take over L.A. with this,” Rid said. “The first Samoan rap group.”“Not my speed, but I wish you boys luck,” Janice said.“Y'all ready to roll?” Rid asked.Everyone nodded, and began to head downstairs to the limos, ready to make history.
January 8, 2016
Penultimate Hustle: L.A. - Chapter 18
Chapter 18 – Submission
Chris closed the door behind him and let the girls rest. Janique could endure anything, for any length of time, but when it was over, she needed to sleep. Kiki, he was sure, was also exhausted. He hoped they hadn't left any lasting marks on her. No amount of hot sex was worth interfering with her relationship with Brad. And when it came down to it, Brad was far more more important to Ultimate Hustle.For the first time since he had met Janique, he felt a tinge of loneliness. Even in jail, he hadn't missed her as much as he did at that moment. It was silly, he realized. She was just down the hall.He first peeked in a sleeping Dulce, and she was still on her couch, thumb in mouth. Janice made a shooing gesture, and he closed the door again.That was when he understood how having children would further alter his relationship with Janique. It was a bittersweet feeling approaching genuine sadness. He decided that, change or not, it would make her happier. He would be happier by extension.Or at least he hoped so.He wandered the halls for a time, and experienced a queer sensation of being watched. It was an odd feeling, as though he was a character in a movie. Or a book. The phrase “Cure For Sanity” entered his mind, and he dismissed it.Chris checked on the work going on in the kitchen and bathroom, and suddenly felt the urge to put on a toolbelt and work with the other construction hands. It was funny, he mused. Everyone wanted money and leisure, but had no idea of what that was really like. He knew those workers were probably much more content than he was. He knew he needed a higher purpose. Perhaps becoming a father would be it. At any rate, it was time for him to get back to poetry and writing. Chris had promises to keep.He almost went to see Brad and Leo, but heard the laughter of the girls through the door and thought better of it. Janice seemed to have a good handle on things, scribbling and typing away at whatever literary masterpiece she was working on, whenever she had a spare moment. It was admirable how happy she seemed to be on her own.He grabbed his worn copy of “Hitchhiker's Guide”, and retired to his couch to read. As he began, Chris wiped away a solitary tear.###An hour or so later, Dulce walked in, followed discretely by Janice, and climbed into his lap. He nodded briefly, and Janice returned to her own office. She listened to him read for a while, and then said, “hungy”. It was a semi-precious moment. He held her in one arm as he made her a half of a ham sandwich and milk, with a few Oreos for dessert.After she had eaten, the girls came from Brad's office, giggling and discussing the casting call. “Mama”, Dulce said, running to Maria with her arms raised.Chris was both relieved and a little saddened. It was at that moment that he decided that he was ready to have kids. A boy and a girl would be just perfect. Someone to pass his legacy on to. Working just to further he and Janique's personal interests alone was already starting to feel a bit empty.“I'm here to see Chris and Janique,” a familiar voice said from the hall.Akira!Chris walked out to greet him, excited to see an old friend. Broad smiles appeared on both of their faces at the sight of each other. He issued a lengthy greeting in Japanese.“Please. We're in America now,” Akira laughed. “Speak Spanish.”He was wearing engineer boots, black jeans with a bullet belt, and a t-shirt that said, “Razor – Forward to Termination”. Accompanying him was a most exquisite and delicate geisha. She was authentically attired, down to her sandals. Her face was immaculately painted, and she wore the thinnest of silk gowns.Chris was instantly interested in having her.“This is Yumi,” Akira said. “She's my new sociological experiment. And by that, I mean wife.”“Hello, Yumi...”“She doesn't speak English. She's not even allowed to learn it. Or speak unless I tell her to.”Her eyes never left the floor.“She's amazing. Wow. Just wow,” Chris said.“She is the perfect Japanese wife,” Akira said. “I trained her myself from virginity onward. She's the happiest girl in the world.”“You'd never know that from looking at her.” She looked so frightened and vulnerable. A complete turn on.“Can I...” Chris asked.“Of course! What's mine is yours. In fact, Janique and I already discussed it. “He switched on the cameras. Akira issued a command in Japanese, and Yumi dropped to all fours in the carpeted hallway.“Arf, arf!” she said.Not only did she act like a puppy, Chris got the impression that she actually thought she was. It was incredibly hot. Her kimono rode up, confirming what he suspected. She was naked and bare underneath it. Her pale skin indicated it had never seen the sun.His cock was already starting to swell.He got his keys and opened the door to the dungeon. Akira dragged Yumi by hair, as she whimpered and cried. When they all saw what was inside, she let out an inspired cry of fear.To Chris, the only thing scarier than that room was a jail cell. The rough=hewn rock walls were lined with unlit torches and manacles for chaining people up. To the left was an iron cage, just big enough for two people. On the wall connected to the bedroom was a full-sized rack for stretching people.But it was the attention to detail that really made it impressive. Water dripped down the walls from the ceiling, both of which were stained with what looked like real blood. Bones littered the floor, and they appeared to be real, as well. Hanging from hooks near the door was a collection of whips, paddles, and metal torture devices. There were no gags. It was a room for screaming. One empty area on the floor made him wonder what was coming next, as it seemed clear that something was missing.Reading his mind, Akira threw up the horns, and said, “Where's the iron maiden?”He kicked Yumi in the ass, forcing her to crawl. Once Chris closed the door, it disappeared, reminding him of the entrance to the love nest they'd built in prison.. He couldn't imagine how hard the floor was on her knees.“So, how are things?” Akira asked casually, as he yanked her upright by the hair.“They're going really well.”Chris ripped her kimono off, and drank in her full splendor. Then he slapped her across her tits, the loud smacking sound reverberating off of the walls. She began sobbing again, and begging for mercy in Japanese.“It seems like it. You're paying me really well.”
Akira slapped her across the face for talking without permission.“You're a great photographer. You know Janique wants the best. So do I, of course.”Chris grabbed one of her nipples and forced her over to the shackles. “We could pay her, too.”“She's not allowed to touch money. She's my pet.”He pushed her hard against the wall, the sharp stone protrusions cutting into her back. Yumi's make-up was smeared and running from her tears, but she had ceased protesting. Still, her eyes never met theirs.“She's so beautiful,” Chris said, and locked her wrists in the chains above her head.“I think so. But you know what my friend Merzbow says? 'Bondage is not about vagina. Bondage is about pain in face'.”“That's heavy,” Chris slapped the inside of her thighs, forcing her to spread her legs, which increased the weight her arms were supporting. He soon found out how hard the floor actually was when he knelt down and lifted her by both legs, placing them on his shoulders.Yumi was yummy, he thought. Her pussy tasted sweet like some exotic Japanese fruit. Her put his fingers in her and ate her for several minutes until his cock was hard, and she had a silent but considerable orgasm. Her make-up was running so bad, it dripped onto her tits.Chris dropped her legs, putting the weight back on her wrists. He stood back and studied her for a moment. For the first time, she spied his mammoth erection, and then her eyes finally met his, filled with a combination of fear, lust, and admiration.He noticed that the shackles were adjustable, and set about lengthening one, as Akira helped with the other. Yumi realized what was going to happen, and started shaking her head and crying. She was either a great actress, or genuinely fearful. Either scenario made for great film-making.When her chains were adjusted, Akira turned her to face the wall, causing her arms to cross each other over her head. He slapped her ass, said a single sharp word, and she adopted a wide stance.Chris leaned over and spat a glob of saliva onto her pink, hairless asshole. With no fanfare, he shoved the length of himself inside of her, eliciting an animalistic howl of pain. As he pumped in and out of her, Akira grabbed her legs and placed each foot flat against the wall. Amazingly, she stayed put, hanging like a monkey, and pushing backward against him as best she could.It was a display of prowess that Chris found captivating. Even Janique had never pulled off such a maneuver. He pushed himself into her ass extra hard a few times, and unloaded his cum for the second time that day.When he pulled out, Yumi spun around and dropped to her feet on her own, facing him. Then she pushed his cum out of her ass with a few wet farting sounds, laughing as it spattered onto the ground, mocking him. Chris put his clothes back on, and then moved to release her.“Leave her for a while,” Akira said. “She's a real brat.” He kissed her forehead, and they went to Chris's office to catch up.###Eventually, Janique and Kiki work up, kissed, and parted ways, going to their respective rooms with smiles on their faces.The look of surprise on her face when Janique say Akira was priceless. They spoke in Japanese for several minutes, until she asked about Yumi, and the conversation switched to English.“Akira Mfune! You go get her this instant!”Duly chastised, he jumped up and retrieved her. Upon their return, Yumi played the situation up to the hilt, ignoring Akira's rules and protesting her treatment, safe in the confines of Janique's protection.It was an act, of course. A game they all played. Janique took on the role of concerned mother, cuddling the naked girl on the couch, stroking her hair to soothe her.Chris and Akira ignored the display, having had their fun, and discussed the prospects of having a cutting-edge music project. At some point, Melvin knocked on the door and walked in.“Surprise!” he said, and Chris and Janique both what he meant by that, until Tokio walked in behind him on crutches.“Look at this pretty motherfucker right here,” he said.Janique shoved Yumi off of her onto the couch, and ran to embrace him.“Oh, stop,” she said.“Shit. I was talking about him,” he said, indicating Chris. “I've been down so long, it'll take me a while to adjust.”She laughed. “Come on. I'll fix that right now.”She pushed him back out of the room, and evicted the girls from their room without explanation.Twenty minutes later, she emerged.“Girls, that's Tokio. The founder of Ultimate Hustle. When he wakes up, fuck him again until he passes out.”All four went in to wait and pounce.Melvin waited until she returned to explain the situation.“He's released pending the results of the retrial. But we've already won most of the battle getting that far.”“Prognosis?” Janique asked.“Things look better than ever. Toke ain't goin' back to prison. I'd stake my career on it.”“You'd better bet your life...”He nodded, staring into the empty sockets of Hazel's skull.
Chris closed the door behind him and let the girls rest. Janique could endure anything, for any length of time, but when it was over, she needed to sleep. Kiki, he was sure, was also exhausted. He hoped they hadn't left any lasting marks on her. No amount of hot sex was worth interfering with her relationship with Brad. And when it came down to it, Brad was far more more important to Ultimate Hustle.For the first time since he had met Janique, he felt a tinge of loneliness. Even in jail, he hadn't missed her as much as he did at that moment. It was silly, he realized. She was just down the hall.He first peeked in a sleeping Dulce, and she was still on her couch, thumb in mouth. Janice made a shooing gesture, and he closed the door again.That was when he understood how having children would further alter his relationship with Janique. It was a bittersweet feeling approaching genuine sadness. He decided that, change or not, it would make her happier. He would be happier by extension.Or at least he hoped so.He wandered the halls for a time, and experienced a queer sensation of being watched. It was an odd feeling, as though he was a character in a movie. Or a book. The phrase “Cure For Sanity” entered his mind, and he dismissed it.Chris checked on the work going on in the kitchen and bathroom, and suddenly felt the urge to put on a toolbelt and work with the other construction hands. It was funny, he mused. Everyone wanted money and leisure, but had no idea of what that was really like. He knew those workers were probably much more content than he was. He knew he needed a higher purpose. Perhaps becoming a father would be it. At any rate, it was time for him to get back to poetry and writing. Chris had promises to keep.He almost went to see Brad and Leo, but heard the laughter of the girls through the door and thought better of it. Janice seemed to have a good handle on things, scribbling and typing away at whatever literary masterpiece she was working on, whenever she had a spare moment. It was admirable how happy she seemed to be on her own.He grabbed his worn copy of “Hitchhiker's Guide”, and retired to his couch to read. As he began, Chris wiped away a solitary tear.###An hour or so later, Dulce walked in, followed discretely by Janice, and climbed into his lap. He nodded briefly, and Janice returned to her own office. She listened to him read for a while, and then said, “hungy”. It was a semi-precious moment. He held her in one arm as he made her a half of a ham sandwich and milk, with a few Oreos for dessert.After she had eaten, the girls came from Brad's office, giggling and discussing the casting call. “Mama”, Dulce said, running to Maria with her arms raised.Chris was both relieved and a little saddened. It was at that moment that he decided that he was ready to have kids. A boy and a girl would be just perfect. Someone to pass his legacy on to. Working just to further he and Janique's personal interests alone was already starting to feel a bit empty.“I'm here to see Chris and Janique,” a familiar voice said from the hall.Akira!Chris walked out to greet him, excited to see an old friend. Broad smiles appeared on both of their faces at the sight of each other. He issued a lengthy greeting in Japanese.“Please. We're in America now,” Akira laughed. “Speak Spanish.”He was wearing engineer boots, black jeans with a bullet belt, and a t-shirt that said, “Razor – Forward to Termination”. Accompanying him was a most exquisite and delicate geisha. She was authentically attired, down to her sandals. Her face was immaculately painted, and she wore the thinnest of silk gowns.Chris was instantly interested in having her.“This is Yumi,” Akira said. “She's my new sociological experiment. And by that, I mean wife.”“Hello, Yumi...”“She doesn't speak English. She's not even allowed to learn it. Or speak unless I tell her to.”Her eyes never left the floor.“She's amazing. Wow. Just wow,” Chris said.“She is the perfect Japanese wife,” Akira said. “I trained her myself from virginity onward. She's the happiest girl in the world.”“You'd never know that from looking at her.” She looked so frightened and vulnerable. A complete turn on.“Can I...” Chris asked.“Of course! What's mine is yours. In fact, Janique and I already discussed it. “He switched on the cameras. Akira issued a command in Japanese, and Yumi dropped to all fours in the carpeted hallway.“Arf, arf!” she said.Not only did she act like a puppy, Chris got the impression that she actually thought she was. It was incredibly hot. Her kimono rode up, confirming what he suspected. She was naked and bare underneath it. Her pale skin indicated it had never seen the sun.His cock was already starting to swell.He got his keys and opened the door to the dungeon. Akira dragged Yumi by hair, as she whimpered and cried. When they all saw what was inside, she let out an inspired cry of fear.To Chris, the only thing scarier than that room was a jail cell. The rough=hewn rock walls were lined with unlit torches and manacles for chaining people up. To the left was an iron cage, just big enough for two people. On the wall connected to the bedroom was a full-sized rack for stretching people.But it was the attention to detail that really made it impressive. Water dripped down the walls from the ceiling, both of which were stained with what looked like real blood. Bones littered the floor, and they appeared to be real, as well. Hanging from hooks near the door was a collection of whips, paddles, and metal torture devices. There were no gags. It was a room for screaming. One empty area on the floor made him wonder what was coming next, as it seemed clear that something was missing.Reading his mind, Akira threw up the horns, and said, “Where's the iron maiden?”He kicked Yumi in the ass, forcing her to crawl. Once Chris closed the door, it disappeared, reminding him of the entrance to the love nest they'd built in prison.. He couldn't imagine how hard the floor was on her knees.“So, how are things?” Akira asked casually, as he yanked her upright by the hair.“They're going really well.”Chris ripped her kimono off, and drank in her full splendor. Then he slapped her across her tits, the loud smacking sound reverberating off of the walls. She began sobbing again, and begging for mercy in Japanese.“It seems like it. You're paying me really well.”
Akira slapped her across the face for talking without permission.“You're a great photographer. You know Janique wants the best. So do I, of course.”Chris grabbed one of her nipples and forced her over to the shackles. “We could pay her, too.”“She's not allowed to touch money. She's my pet.”He pushed her hard against the wall, the sharp stone protrusions cutting into her back. Yumi's make-up was smeared and running from her tears, but she had ceased protesting. Still, her eyes never met theirs.“She's so beautiful,” Chris said, and locked her wrists in the chains above her head.“I think so. But you know what my friend Merzbow says? 'Bondage is not about vagina. Bondage is about pain in face'.”“That's heavy,” Chris slapped the inside of her thighs, forcing her to spread her legs, which increased the weight her arms were supporting. He soon found out how hard the floor actually was when he knelt down and lifted her by both legs, placing them on his shoulders.Yumi was yummy, he thought. Her pussy tasted sweet like some exotic Japanese fruit. Her put his fingers in her and ate her for several minutes until his cock was hard, and she had a silent but considerable orgasm. Her make-up was running so bad, it dripped onto her tits.Chris dropped her legs, putting the weight back on her wrists. He stood back and studied her for a moment. For the first time, she spied his mammoth erection, and then her eyes finally met his, filled with a combination of fear, lust, and admiration.He noticed that the shackles were adjustable, and set about lengthening one, as Akira helped with the other. Yumi realized what was going to happen, and started shaking her head and crying. She was either a great actress, or genuinely fearful. Either scenario made for great film-making.When her chains were adjusted, Akira turned her to face the wall, causing her arms to cross each other over her head. He slapped her ass, said a single sharp word, and she adopted a wide stance.Chris leaned over and spat a glob of saliva onto her pink, hairless asshole. With no fanfare, he shoved the length of himself inside of her, eliciting an animalistic howl of pain. As he pumped in and out of her, Akira grabbed her legs and placed each foot flat against the wall. Amazingly, she stayed put, hanging like a monkey, and pushing backward against him as best she could.It was a display of prowess that Chris found captivating. Even Janique had never pulled off such a maneuver. He pushed himself into her ass extra hard a few times, and unloaded his cum for the second time that day.When he pulled out, Yumi spun around and dropped to her feet on her own, facing him. Then she pushed his cum out of her ass with a few wet farting sounds, laughing as it spattered onto the ground, mocking him. Chris put his clothes back on, and then moved to release her.“Leave her for a while,” Akira said. “She's a real brat.” He kissed her forehead, and they went to Chris's office to catch up.###Eventually, Janique and Kiki work up, kissed, and parted ways, going to their respective rooms with smiles on their faces.The look of surprise on her face when Janique say Akira was priceless. They spoke in Japanese for several minutes, until she asked about Yumi, and the conversation switched to English.“Akira Mfune! You go get her this instant!”Duly chastised, he jumped up and retrieved her. Upon their return, Yumi played the situation up to the hilt, ignoring Akira's rules and protesting her treatment, safe in the confines of Janique's protection.It was an act, of course. A game they all played. Janique took on the role of concerned mother, cuddling the naked girl on the couch, stroking her hair to soothe her.Chris and Akira ignored the display, having had their fun, and discussed the prospects of having a cutting-edge music project. At some point, Melvin knocked on the door and walked in.“Surprise!” he said, and Chris and Janique both what he meant by that, until Tokio walked in behind him on crutches.“Look at this pretty motherfucker right here,” he said.Janique shoved Yumi off of her onto the couch, and ran to embrace him.“Oh, stop,” she said.“Shit. I was talking about him,” he said, indicating Chris. “I've been down so long, it'll take me a while to adjust.”She laughed. “Come on. I'll fix that right now.”She pushed him back out of the room, and evicted the girls from their room without explanation.Twenty minutes later, she emerged.“Girls, that's Tokio. The founder of Ultimate Hustle. When he wakes up, fuck him again until he passes out.”All four went in to wait and pounce.Melvin waited until she returned to explain the situation.“He's released pending the results of the retrial. But we've already won most of the battle getting that far.”“Prognosis?” Janique asked.“Things look better than ever. Toke ain't goin' back to prison. I'd stake my career on it.”“You'd better bet your life...”He nodded, staring into the empty sockets of Hazel's skull.
