When she bit her lip, he knew what thought was running through her head from the re-education training she had undoubtedly received: you are nothing but what we men make you. Your name is what we say it is. To answer with anything else is to be punished, immediately and severely.
"Prima, you don't know me, but I am a man of my word, and I am telling you that you will not be punished for answering me truthfully."
That lip was going to need ice shortly, too, if she didn't stop gnawing on it. "Sir –"
Joseph shifted lazily in his chair, never taking his eyes off her. "I will not punish you for answering me, Prima, but I will punish you for not answering me." A second passed, and then another. "I will not wait forever." It was not delivered as a threat, merely a statement of fact. If she did not obey him, he would punish her. Action and consequence. Relentless consistency. Even in the Before Time, Joseph had found women who appreciated his philosophy.
"M-my name was Katherine. Katherine Marie Cassidy, Sir." It had been so long since she'd mouthed her own name, it truly sounded like someone else's.
A small smile played about his lips. "Very good, my girl. Next time, though, I will not be as patient." Joseph rose and began walking down the hall towards his bedroom. "Come."
Prima almost had to run to catch up with his long strides, but remained a respectful distance behind him until he walked into his bedroom and motioned her inside. He could tell by the fearful expression on her face that she thought he was going to expect her to service him now, only a few minutes after they'd met, as would be his right as her owner. But he was not about to set the precedent of explaining himself to her. He would demand her obedience to his commands, regardless of whether she understood his intent.
She came forward, and he pushed the door closed, but not latched, behind her, then said casually as he ducked into his bathroom, "Strip."
Alert to her expressions and sounds like he'd never been to any other woman, Joseph heard her sharply indrawn breath as he grabbed what he needed and returned to her. He wondered if she would comply or rebel.
He was pleased that she had done as he'd asked, and his breath was literally taken away by her pale golden beauty. Although the rest of current culture might lean towards taking a girl to bed, Joseph much preferred a woman, a woman like Prima, who was softly rounded in all the right places, almost overly full breasts with largish, taut pink nipples and…a hair covered mound.
Joseph frowned. That was highly illegal, and would have to go, although he would require that she keep herself hairless because of his own preferences, not the State's. "Turn around." When she blushed, her whole body suffused with a light pink glow, probably close to that of what she would be like if she were bred. But she did as she was told, and would have turned all the way back around, but he commanded her to stop when she had her bottom to him, making her blush all that more acutely.
A woman's bottom was truly a thing of beauty, Joseph thought, and Prima's was as overly generous as her beautiful breasts. It fairly begged for the kiss of the strap or cane, or anything else he could – and would – use on it, including his own two lips.
The rampaging spike in his pants nearly exploded as he stood and stared at her wonderful perfection, imagining all the ways he was going to punish that lovely bottom. Why, he could almost hear her cries now of how she'd be better behaved, pleas for him to stop that would go entirely unheeded, screams and sobs that would be music to his ears.
"You're very lovely," he complimented. Joseph put a box next to him as he sat on the far side of the bed and patted his leg. "Lay over my lap."
Prima had never felt more vulnerable and exposed in her life. The man who owned her was fully clothed, she was in his house, totally naked and subject to anything he would do to her with absolutely no recourse. There was nothing she could do but obey him, so she did, draping herself over the trunks of his thighs, feeling the rough denim and scratchy wool of his clothing prickling her sensitive skin. A broad palm rested on her vulnerable cheeks, but he did not hit her as she expected, although she tensed when the hand was removed. Instead, she heard something being unwrapped, and then he was positioning her far leg out and away from its twin, deliberately exposing her most private, secret area.
Experimentally, Prima tried to close her legs against his grip, but only received two viciously hard smacks to each of her wobbling bottom cheeks for her troubles. "No," Joseph said sharply.
Her head was practically touching the floor, and she had to grab his leg, upside down, after he spanked her to keep her balance. Her small voice drifted up to him. "I'm sorry, Sir."
Soothingly, Joseph crooned, rubbing her bottom gently, "That's okay, my girl. You'll learn quickly enough. I want you to relax now while I give you some pain medicine to help your wrists feel better, then I'm going to put you down for a nap. You must be exhausted after your trip."
Medicine? Prima wondered. The only kind of medicine she'd ever had applied in the area he was now examining was an enema, which was a most unpleasant experience, despite the fact that it usually stirred uncomfortably embarrassing feelings in her that she had absolutely no interest in exploring.
Before she knew it, he was pressing a large something against the entrance to her bottom hole, while issuing a firm command to be still, which she only partially succeeded in obeying. The intruder was soft and slippery, expanding her rosette uncomfortably as he administered it, watching it pop inside her while practically salivating all over her. Prima jerked suddenly when his middle finger, coated with something slippery, followed the suppository's path, boldly pressing inside her to adjust the position of the little bullet so that it was lodged deeply in her bowels.
"Shh-shh-shh," he soothed, moving his finger around as he rubbed the small of her back, keeping her legs well apart so that she had no hope of alleviating his embarrassing intrusion into her body. "That's my good girl."
By the time he lodged the third capsule into her bottom, she was getting uncomfortably full, and she couldn't keep herself from struggling against his hold. "Please, Sir –"
Ten searing swats rained down on those defenseless, parted cheeks. Joseph put his considerable strength into each crisp stroke, listening to her scream from the third one, but not lessening his cruel intent one iota.
After the tenth slap, he went back to what he was doing, and she was almost too occupied with the fire in her bottom to protest the insistent invasion of his finger as it probed and pushed within her. Finally, he was satisfied that she was not going to be able to get those out of herself easily. But just in case, he presented a trailer hitch butt plug against that tight little hole, pressing, pressing, pressing, watching intently as her body was forced to accept it, listening to her sobs and moans, although he knew this was more humiliating and mildly uncomfortable than truly painful.
Once it had been absorbed to the hilt into her unwilling orifice, he pulled her off his lap and tucked her under the covers of his bed, which had her wide-eyed through her choking sobs. "But, Sir –"
He cut her off. "In my house, I make the rules and no one else." It was against the law for a man to allow a woman to sleep in the same bed with him. His bed was supposedly to be used for copulation or punishment, but never sleeping. It was too intimate and gave women ideas above their stations.
Joseph sat next to her, for some reason unwilling to leave, his hand gently stroking her bare back beneath the covers. "Sir?"
"Yes, Prima?"
"May I have a nightgown?"
Joseph smiled wryly. "No, little girl. You will always share my bed, and you will always be naked in it." He patted her rosy red bottom and then checked how the butt plug was seated one last time, purposely making her jump a little when he pressed it hard into her. "Now go to sleep. I will stay with you until you fall asleep, but when you wake you must call to me. You are not to get out of bed without my permission."
Wordlessly, he got up and turned on one of the few MP3s still in existence, and a soft, haunting melody filled the ro
om. When he returned to take his place at her side, she felt something very like a butt plug being pressed to her lips. "Open." She did as she was told, and found one of the latest methods of quieting a slave popped into her mouth – an adult-sized pacifier that filled her mouth almost like a gag. He had dipped it in something sweet, and, despite herself, she found herself sucking on it, which was proving to be disgustingly soothing added to that strong, hard hand caressing her back lazily.
Within minutes, she was sleeping deeply, and Joseph slipped quietly out of the room.
Chapter Two
"Sir?"
Joseph was in his office and had consciously left the door to his bedroom open so that he could hear her if she called for him. He was beside her in an instant. "I need to go to the bathroom."
Joseph sat up to let her pass, but she hesitated. "What?"
"Please, Sir, would you remove the –"
He had forgotten about the plug in her bottom and removed it as gently as he could. When she returned, he had the package of suppositories next to him along with the only thing she was allowed to bring from her father's house, her big old fashioned hairbrush, and he told her to lay over his lap, but she began to back away, saying, "No, please, Sir –"
He dealt with this small rebellion harshly as he paddled her bottom with the hairbrush. He was going to use it to brush her hair soothingly, but he knew that the only reason FemEx had allowed her to take it with her was because they thought it was a spanking implement. And it turned out they were right. It was a solid wood brush, whose varnish had been worn off the business side, in testament to how useful it had been in keeping little girls in line. She sang out loudly from the first stroke to the last, and her wonderfully full cheeks were left a painful shade of deep red when he'd finished her spanking, all the while lecturing that she was not to use the word 'no' and how she was never to hesitate when he told her to do something.
So three more big bullets of medication found their way up inside her as she sobbed softly over his legs, partly in pain and partly in humiliation, her bottom still roasting as his finger pressed each one deeply inside her, making her sob anew each time. As he seated the last dose well into her already crowded orifice, he let his fingers wander enough to see how her body had responded to his discipline, and he was not disappointed with her abundant slickness.
Whether she liked it consciously or not, her body loved what he was doing to it. Joseph almost roared with his own pleasure at this discovery.
When he was done, he pulled her up and arranged her next to him on the side of the bed so that she was facing away from him and sitting on her well-disciplined bottom. Joseph took hairbrush and used it on her the way it was originally intended – brushing out the few snarls from her beautiful, wavy blonde hair.
He had always had a love of long hair – and now it was against the law for a woman to cut her hair except in an instance of sickness or for the need of a pregnancy – and one of the things he adored doing was brushing it. Most of his women in the Before Time had responded just as she was, by settling down and relaxing. He equated it to grooming a fractious animal, and women were the most fractious creatures on Earth.
As he brushed, he spoke softly but firmly, "I will be as patient as I can with you, Prima, until you learn my ways. But I will not tolerate you telling me no. You must submit to me without defiance. Is that understood?"
She had been staring at their reflections in his mirror, but when he questioned her, she looked down, as if ashamed. "Yes, Sir."
"Good girl." He continued to run the brush through her hair, and Prima thought she would fall asleep, despite the burning in her sore cheeks. "I won't have a lot of rules for you, but obedience is definitely one of them."
"Yes, Sir."
"Do you know how to cook?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Good. Then you will be responsible for my meals."
She had cooked for her father, until she'd been taken away. Tears filled her eyes and spilled out onto her lips. "Yes, Sir," she whispered.
Joseph missed nothing and went on quickly, hoping to divert her from whatever was making her cry. She had mostly settled down from her spanking, but something else had set her off. She was probably homesick. "You will have a regular bedtime of seven-thirty."
"Yes, Sir." A bedtime? She thought. Papa had never made her go to bed at any particular time, at least not since she was a child. Her father had not much subscribed to the changes that had taken place in society, and they had been left relatively unmolested by the outside world on their farm in what had been North Dakota at one time. He had taken sick and become an invalid not long after The Leveling, so her freedoms had never been very restricted.
But it seemed that was at an end.
"If you would like to stay up later than that, you must ask my permission."
"Yes, Sir."
"You are not to swear or yell under any circumstances."
Neither were things that she did with any regularity, anyway. And they were both, coincidentally, against the law. "Yes, Sir."
Although he appreciated her efforts at willingness, he was getting heartily sick of those two words. "You don't need to answer me, Prima. Just ask any questions you might have. You must always address me respectfully, but you don't always have to say 'yes, Sir'. I trust your hearing works all right."
He was rewarded with a small smile and a nod of her head.
"Good girl." Joseph rose and walked into the hall, assuming she would follow him, which she did after a moment's hesitation. "You will receive no oral medications. All medications will be delivered either anally through enemas or suppositories or by shot." Joseph walked out of his bedroom and into his office as Prima followed at a respectful distance.
"I will discipline you at any time, in any way that I see fit. As you already know, my spankings are not pleasant, and you would do well to avoid them as much as possible." He dropped into the chair behind the big desk in his office. "However, as there may well be things that you do that are naughty that I don't catch for some reason, and for purposes of reminder and consistency, you will be punished once a week, regardless of your behavior during the week, starting this Friday."
Oh, God, that was the day after tomorrow!
He was going on, but she was dwelling on the fact that every single Friday for the rest of her life she was going to be punished at this man's hands. "The punishments will not always be just a spanking, though they will always contain a spanking. This Friday, you will be given a very thorough and complete baseline examination – height, weight, and so on." That didn't sound so bad. "The following Friday, I will attend to your breasts." That didn't sound so good, somehow. "The Friday after that, there will be an intimate exploration of your tight little bottom hole, up to and including a nice big enema to clean you out, and the last Friday will be devoted to reddening your bottom and the backs of your legs. And then, the cycle will begin again.
"Weekly punishments will begin promptly at six o'clock. You will fix an early dinner for me that evening and stand at attention in the corner of the kitchen in case I require anything, but you will not be allowed any dinner that night. You are responsible for reminding me of your weekly appointment. If I get involved in something after dinner and it's time for your discipline, you must come and get me. If you do not, then you will suffer the same exact punishment the next morning. And believe me," he emphasized with a pause, "You will need most of the week just to recover from your Friday evening session." He was watching her reaction to his statements very closely. "After a punishment session, I will put you to bed early, or I might have another arrangement for you, but we will deal with that if and when I decide."
Two feelings were warring within Prima. Uppermost was the urge to turn tail and run, although she knew that there would be no escape, and it would only serve to anger him. It was the secondary feeling, tucked somewhere in the back of her mind, behind all of the mental boxes and baggage in her head, lurking in the deepest, darkest corner of her
mind under some old love letters, though, that scared her the most.
That feeling was pleasure, and it scared the bejeezus out of her. Worse than that, she felt a telltale moisture collecting between her legs, and she knew, dishearteningly, what that meant: he was going to be very severe and strict with her, and he wasn't going to accept any excuses if she screwed up. She'd be over his lap getting the tar beaten out of her in a heartbeat if he so much as thought he sensed she'd been naughty.
Papa had been right.
He was just what she needed.
Because she was dreading Friday afternoon at six, time went much faster than it would have. The next two days were spent in relative quiet; he had required her to sleep a lot and had continued, much to her dismay and humiliation, to administer those awful suppositories every four hours. If she showed even a millisecond of hesitation in lying over his lap for her medicine, he spanked her mercilessly and then dosed her with the suppositories anyway. She smartened up quickly, and that only happened one more time.
Although she had slept naked in his arms, he had not forced himself on her that first night as she expected. But she was coming to expect the unexpected from him.
This man was a study in contrast. In some ways, especially as regards disciplining her, he was the harshest man she'd ever known – her father was, apparently, extremely lenient, although she'd've argued the point when she was over his lap. But then, Joseph continued to ice her wrists and tsk over them, asking her frequently if they still hurt, and he had bathed her as gently as a mother in a huge claw-footed tub. Prima had found this to be, at once, both marvelously indulgent and atrociously humiliating, as he had required her to bend over in front of him and spread her legs, allowing him to slickly soap, rinse, and dry every nook and cranny. He had also insisted that she dine with him and eat as much as she wanted. Prima had looked surprised when he had motioned her into a chair at the table with him for the dinner she'd prepared that first night. "Sit and eat."
Prima Page 2
