Cheri's New Rules

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Cheri's New Rules Page 13

by Markie Morelli


  Calling her his little girl was so cute, but could she be his baby with all that entailed? No safe word meant he had complete control, always. It scared the hell out of her. While she’d never called a halt to anything he did, there was a certain comfort in knowing she could. At the same time, the knowledge that he held all the power was exciting as hell. She squirmed on his lap and cried out both from the soreness of her bottom and the feel of his large cock pushing against her. She couldn’t win, she realized. Her body would always betray her.

  When Michael slipped his hand under her nightgown and cupped her pussy, he smiled.

  “Never mind, sweet girl,” he murmured. “I said I’d give you till the weekend and I will.” His finger stroked her tiny clit before inching inside her. “I don’t want you to worry, baby. It will all work out, you’ll see. For now, I think I’ll make you come a few times before I fuck you silly.”

  “Oh, Michael,” she moaned, clamping her legs together. “You do know, don’t you?”

  “I know, sweetheart, and it’s all right, but this weekend you’ll say the words,” he informed her. “I need to hear them. Now open your legs for Daddy, pretty baby,” he ordered a bit sternly. “This is my little kitty and I want to play with it.”

  Chéri shivered.

  “Unbutton your nightgown. I think I want to suck those pouty nipples.”

  Slowly Chéri worked the pearl buttons free of their holes. Her hands shook as she parted her gown for him and let her thighs fall open. She loved how his eyes devoured her, loved the deep rumble of appreciation in his throat when he got his way. His hand slipped under one of her cheeks and grasped her firmly as his mouth descended. While she didn’t want to admit it, at least not yet, there wasn’t a damn thing this man could tell her to do that wouldn’t secretly thrill her. She was his, body and soul, adult and child, even when he had her crying and pleading for mercy she knew he wouldn’t give. She still wasn’t sure whether she was one sick bitch or the luckiest woman in the world.

  The week went from bad to worse. The new client was difficult and full of anxiety regarding her products and making sure they got the attention and promotion they deserved. It really wasn’t her fault and Chéri tried to cut her some slack. This was her big chance, her one shot at fame and fortune and Chéri could understand her angst.

  The cosmetics industry was a tough, “dog eat dog” business and Jennifer Cavanaugh was clawing her way to the top of the heap. It wasn’t an easy feat and most didn’t make it, but there was something about the petite forty-something woman with the short silver hair that appealed to Chéri. She held off giving her notice. If this campaign was a success, she could at least go out with a bang. Even though she hated the “good old boy” mentality that still existed, she did feel a certain loyalty to Mr. Waters for giving her a shot when no one else would. Not to mention the bonus would come in handy considering the alterations Michael wanted to make to their home.

  Nearly every night he was on his laptop researching God knows what, she thought, cleaning up her desk and getting ready to go home. Several times she’d tried to snoop and see what he was doing and all it got her was a number of sharp swats on her bare bottom and a promise of more to come if she didn’t behave and mind her own business. It availed her nothing but a sore behind as the man was notorious for clearing his history.

  Chéri had several good ideas ready for her pitch to Jennifer on Friday and if she liked them, Mary was now on board to help move them to reality. Once the contracts were signed Chéri would give her notice but agree to stay on top of things, working part time, and most of those days would be from home until the ad campaign was up and running. She hoped that would satisfy Michael and her boss.

  She left a little early on Thursday and was peeling potatoes and carrots to throw in with the roast she’d started that morning in the crockpot when her husband came through the door.

  “Hi, Daddy,” she said with a smile. Standing on her tip-toes she kissed his cheek as he peered over her shoulder to see what was in the pot.

  “Hey, babygirl,” he replied. “Smells good.”

  “I hope so, it’s been cooking all day. How was work?”

  “Oh, the usual,” he replied. “Smith and Wesson were back today with another couple I’m pretty sure have been manipulated into paying them a fortune for a divorce neither of them want. It’s pathetic and sad,” he said, sighing. “I wanted to spank her myself and cuff her husband upside the head.”

  “Michael,” she gasped.

  “I know, I know. I’m not supposed to take sides, but God I get so sick of seeing the same thing over and over. They look at each other with sad, accusing eyes. The wife tries not to cry and the husband clamps his jaw shut while one of the nitwits go into their spiel about what a ‘terrible match it’s been from the beginning and how abused their client is.’ I know it’s a crock of bullshit but I have to sit there and let it play out.

  “I sent them to mediation but with those two crooks there it probably won’t work. If they think they stand to lose a dime in legal fees, they’ll fight tooth and nail to make sure there is no reconciliation or settlement. Then I’ll have to decide who gets what and it will drag on and on until the poor kids actually do hate each other.

  “Sorry, baby,” he apologized. “I don’t mean to dump this crap on you. How was your day?” he asked, taking one of the carrots she’d peeled and taking a bite.

  “Not too bad. I’m ready for my pitch tomorrow and if she likes it, I think it will be a done deal and she’ll sign. Waters did bring Mary on, thank God. He should have done that a long time ago and maybe I wouldn’t have felt so overwhelmed.”

  “Gee, maybe if he had I wouldn’t have had to give you so many spankings for coming home in a cranky mood,” he teased, patting her ass.

  “Ya think?” she asked.

  “No,” he admitted. “If you were a perfect angel I’d still have found a reason to pull you over my knee. Does that make you mad?” he asked curiously.

  “No,” Chéri replied, putting her knife down and turning to face him after dropping the last carrot into the pot. Throwing her arms around his neck she pulled him closer. “Michael, I’m sure I would have found any number of other ways push your buttons,” she admitted.

  “Baby, you’ve been pushing my buttons for years. I just stopped walking away and decided to give you what you had coming to you,” he said with a laugh. “Maybe it’s what you’d been asking for all along,” he whispered before claiming her lips the same time his big hands claimed her bottom and lifted her to him.

  “Mmm,” she moaned into his mouth.

  “How long before dinner is done?” he asked against her lips.

  “About forty-five minutes,” she breathed back, pressing her tummy against his erection.

  “Good,” he replied, setting her down and taking her hand. “That’s just about enough time for me to take your temperature and make sure you’re nice and healthy for what I planned for tonight.”

  “That’s not fair,” she cried, tugging futilely against his hand as he pulled her from the kitchen. “Besides, I think you just gave me a fever.”

  Michael laughed.

  “Come along, little girl,” he insisted, moving her toward the stairs and up them. “I hope you don’t have a fever, at least not a real one,” he drawled. “Daddy knows just what to do, of course, but I have a feeling a lukewarm enema to bring it down might cause some pretty severe cramping,” he advised.

  “No,” Chéri squealed, struggling in earnest until Michael turned and tossed her over his shoulder. “Settle down,” he said, slapping her on her bottom. “I’m teasing, at least for tonight anyway, but there will come a time when I won’t be. You must know that,” he informed her, bending to place her on her bed.

  “I know,” she whispered, staring up at his serious expression. “Why does that, of all things, turn you on?” she demanded with a huff.

  “Get into position,” he ordered before walking into the bathroom to roll up hi
s sleeves and wash his hands. When he returned, he went to his cabinet and took some items from it, placing them on the nightstand. Then he got the chair.

  Chéri, already on her tummy with the bolster pillow under her thought he wasn’t going to answer and was somewhat surprised when he began to speak as he pulled up her skirt and peeled her panties and pantyhose down to her knees.

  “I’ve thought about that quite a bit,” he replied as he rubbed her naked cheeks. “By the way, I shall absolutely forbid you to wear any more of those horrid pantyhose when you’re my baby full time. Any marks on this lovely little bottom will be placed there by me and only me,” he said with conviction.

  “Yes, Daddy,” she said, savoring the feel of his warm hand as it smoothed out any creases.

  “Are you going to answer my question?” she asked a bit sharply.

  “Ah, getting impatient and sassy are we?” he asked as his hand changed from soothing to slapping. “I am going to answer, but in my own time,” he advised as he turned her bottom to a warm pink hue.

  When he was satisfied, she heard the snap of his glove and shivered. Expecting a huge glob of jelly to land on her bottom hole she was surprised when it didn’t and turned her head to look at him. He was busy applying a very light coating to one of his larger thermometers and not just to the tip either, all the way up. Chéri gulped.

  “Since you’re so interested in my fascination with your ass, I’ll explain it to you,” Michael said as he used one hand to pry apart her bottom cheeks and the other to position the instrument at her most private opening. Ever so slowly he began to nudge it inside her. It wasn’t exactly painful, but without the usual excessive amount of lubricant the feeling was very, very different. There was no way in hell she could choose to ignore it.

  “I’ve always loved your fabulous ass, but you already know that,” he began, pulling back a bit and then quickly recapturing his previously gained ground. “I’ve wanted to fuck that tight little hole since the very beginning, but you were always so adamant it wasn’t going to happen. However, that didn’t stop me from dreaming about it, fantasizing about it.

  “Even in my dreams you were reluctant, but of course in those dreams I never let you get away with it. I was taking you whether you wanted me to or not. God, they were exciting, especially as I had no power or influence over you at all in real life.

  “Once I came to the realization we were due for a change in our lives, I decided that was one of the things I was going to work on. The temperature taking was a stroke of genius on my part, if I do say so myself,” he stated as he once again made an adjustment to the thermometer, ignoring her slight whine. “It showed you who was in charge and clearly revealed to me that despite your complaints, you enjoyed every moment of anal play I subjected you to. Each time I upgraded to a large instrument, both your agitation and vaginal response increased. Lord, that was a glorious day,” he grinned, patting her bottom. “I knew then I was on the right tract and that anal intercourse was, in fact, a possibility. The most important part was I knew you’d enjoy it if I prepared you properly.

  “That’s when I began to seriously consider enemas. I knew about them, had studied them in med school, but never considered the sexual implications. At one time they were used much more frequently, long before drugs took their place. Not only were they used to relieve constipation, but also to reduce fevers, restore certain fluids and nutrients in severely ill people. Retention enemas were another tool. During that procedure they used a special nozzle with an inflatable balloon on each side of the perforated rod. One balloon is inflated inside the rectum to prevent expulsion and another just outside the anus to prevent leakage. In this way the patient is forced to retain the fluid until such time as the doctor sees fit to let them release, usually after sufficient time to absorb whatever has been administered.”

  “Very interesting,” Chéri groaned, wiggling her bottom as he pushed the tube deeper. “Are we nearly done?”

  “No, we are not,” he said, giving her a crisp slap on each cheek. “I thought you wanted to know why I’m so interested in giving my little girl an enema?” he demanded, reclaiming his authority quite firmly.

  “I am, Daddy,” she cried, panting a bit.

  “Then be still,” he advised. “Enemas were also used to curtail unruly or cranky children at one point in history. It was believed they improved the disposition of little ones and, in fact, when threatened with an enema, most little boys and girls quickly changed their tune. Whether this was due to actually having an enema, or merely the threat of one was a matter of opinion. In any case, when I began to see anal intercourse as a real possibility, I wanted to refresh my memory and did a bit of research.

  “Fucking your sweet ass is a delicate matter,” he said with a grin as he fully seated the thermometer. “I used the suppositories the other day after I determined you were not full or impacted and, in fact, had not eaten that day. It seemed safe enough and I spent quite a bit of time stretching your sweet little hole. In the end it all worked out wonderfully, for which I’m very grateful.”

  “Me too,” she whispered.

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he praised, patting her bottom and adjusting the thermometer for the umpteenth time. “Anyway, let me finish while I have you in this adorable position. As time went on, I began to see the benefits of administering an enema to you as often as I see fit. Not only do I get to decide what kind of enema it will be, but also how long you will hold it for me, either by choice or well, by my choice, if you get my meaning.

  “If my plan is to fuck your sweet ass, naturally I’ll want to monitor your food intake and use that to determine my course of action. At times I’ll want you thoroughly cleaned out. I’ll also get to decide what sort of solution I want to use. If you’ve been a very naughty little girl, I may want to add a little something that is a bit irritating; depending on how irritating you’ve been in general.

  “Certain solutions are conducive to calming and relaxing you and I hear are quite pleasant. I think you’ll enjoy both the enema as well as the long slow fuck afterward,” he purred. “I know I’ll enjoy any enema I decide to give you and I’m not ashamed to admit it. You will be under my complete control and that’s very exciting in itself. I will decide the position you take it in, the solution, the speed of the flow, the amount you’ll be forced to receive and how long you will hold it. It will be my decision whether you enjoy it as a reward for good behavior or hate it and beg Daddy to stop. It’s an extremely heady thought for me and I’ve already purchased equipment. I plan to buy more, just so you understand, and there is nothing you can do about it regardless of your decision this weekend.”

  “What if I safe word?” she demanded, shaken to her core by the images his words painted in her head.

  “If we stay as we are now, there is always that possibility, but I won’t stop trying,” he said softly as he twirled the rod in her ass.

  It was in retaliation for her impertinence, she just knew it and she also knew he could likely smell her excitement. Her thighs were soaked and she buried her face in the comforter.

  Finally, he removed the thermometer and pronounced her healthy. “Although I’m not sure that pillow will ever be the same,” he pointed out when he’d pulled if from beneath her and saw how wet it was. “Stay put.”

  He returned with a baby wipe and cleaned her up, shaking his head.

  “Chéri, you can deny it all you want, but I do know the truth and so do you. Go finish making dinner, sweetheart,” he said as he helped her from the bed. “I’ll be in my office.”

  Chapter 14

  Dinner was a quiet affair. His wife seemed preoccupied and fidgeted on her stool at the island doing more wine sipping than she did eating, even though the pot roast was delicious.

  He knew she was uneasy and while he could have taken her mind off her problems with a good spanking and a hard fucking, he chose not to. Instead he let her stew.

  The safe word seemed to be the problem, which he coul
d understand if they were players in some club, but they weren’t. They were man and wife and if she didn’t know by now, after everything they’d done, that he would stop if she were ever in distress, she would never really trust him and no safe word would change that.

  He was disappointed and a little hurt.

  When she slipped from her stool and began cleaning up, he didn’t offer to help her. Instead he told her he enjoyed the meal she’d prepared and returned to his office. There was no TV time that evening, no cuddling on the couch. He made some purchases, looked over some plans he’d drawn up for the contractor and shut down his computer.

  Glancing at the clock he realized it was after ten and the house was quiet. He found Chéri asleep in her bed and wondered why she wasn’t in their bed considering tonight had not been one of their special nights. For a moment he was tempted to pick her up and carry her to their room, but he decided against it. There was obviously a lot on her mind. Her presentation was in the morning and tomorrow night they would head to the lake house after work.

  There was a lot more riding on this weekend for her than there was for him. As he’d told her, he was perfectly happy with things the way they were, although it was his intention to take her further with time.

  Chéri was the one with the decision to make, and by doing so, she would reveal parts of herself he knew she hadn’t faced yet. The plans he told her about tonight, the things he wanted to do with her and to her, excited her and there was no denying it.

  Michael had been honest with her from the start about what he wanted, needed from her. He had no secrets and felt no shame in his desires, especially once he realized how compatible they were with hers, even though she rarely admitted it. If “forcing” her to experience new things, or “making” her accept his authority made her happy and satisfied, he was all for pushing his weight around. In any case, this weekend would decide the direction they were headed in and one thing was certain, they weren’t going backwards. Leaning down, he kissed her forehead and left the room, taking the monitor with him.

 

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