by Emily Tilton
And to know that she, Molly, once a good girl, had put Emma in the cage because she thought her new friend so very pretty, and she wanted to see her without any clothes on… that made Molly’s own face go very red even as it made her heart thump wildly at the idea that perhaps Daniel would now make Emma kiss her fellow house girl.
While Molly cleared the plates and washed up, Daniel stooped next to Emma’s cage, talking quietly to her. Molly strained to hear the words her master said, but he clearly intended them only for his new young lady’s ears. Emma had sat up in the cage and was looking into Daniel’s eyes, her cheeks pink. Molly felt a little jealous, but mostly relieved that Emma looked like she had begun to get used to feeling the needs she had pushed away for so long. As Molly watched over the kitchen counter as she wiped it, Daniel dabbed through the bars of the cage with his napkin to clean away a stray spot of steak sauce, and Emma giggled.
Daniel rose and came into the kitchen. “Little one, when you’re done in here, please take Emma out of the cage and bring her to the bedroom for fucking.”
A shiver went down Molly’s spine; the repression and shame that Daniel had taught her to soothe away from her own mind and heart until he didn’t need to help rose, arousing her even as it made her face hot. She remembered what he had said, the first time he had taken her to his big bed: first, “It’s time for your first fucking, little one”; then, looking deep into her eyes, “Feel your shame, Molly; don’t try to deny it, or push it down underneath. Let it excite you, but don’t let it stop you from getting what you need.”
The word fuck. Molly’s first fucking. Now Emma’s first fucking, to which Molly must conduct her.
Molly had figured it out, by the following morning. She had thought for a very long time that she needed to have sex; that when she had sex everything would be clearer, and her husband would be able to explain about why she had always had strange thoughts of discipline, and after he explained she wouldn’t have them anymore. Or… when she told him, he would, with his firm hand…
No, she would have sex. Make love. Not fuck, the word that turned your face red as a beet if you even heard it in a movie. And if, in a movie, you saw a sex scene where the girl’s face was turned down and away, or her knees were wide and high, you couldn’t even look at it, because you knew they weren’t making love—not at all.
Her first fucking: Daniel had taught her already by then that he could make her feel how some girls—girls like Molly Jackson—needed not lovemaking but fucking. And then had held her tightly in his firm hands and fucked her with her face to the bed, taming her as she cried out and bucked beneath his cock, as a trainer tames a wild animal, to make it useful.
Molly’s thighs felt slick as she moved to the cage. Daniel had gone back to his den. Could she really do as her master had said, and bring another girl to his bed, so that he could tame her as he had tamed Molly? Fuck her as he loved to fuck Molly? This was all Molly’s fault, and she knew that the fantasy only got more arousing from here, but Daniel’s instruction had made her confront the reality of sharing her wonderful immortal with Emma, and suddenly she wanted to say that she wouldn’t, that Daniel belonged to her and Emma had to leave. The truth that Daniel wouldn’t allow it, that he would punish her again even as he showed her in his wisdom the error of her ways, didn’t change the black stain that infected Molly’s heart then, even as it aroused her.
Thoughts of punishing Emma for being in the cage—for doing exactly as Molly had wanted her to do—arose. Molly would make Emma misbehave so that Daniel would paddle her and send her home without having his beautiful cock inside her. Molly would persuade Emma to masturbate without permission, so that when Daniel put her in the bottom harness, with her hands bound to her sides, the way he had done once with Molly, the new girl would run away, overcome with a shame too great even for Daniel’s power.
None of the thoughts made sense, of course, and none of them stopped the warmth between Molly’s legs. Then, when Emma looked up through the bars at her with the same eagerness to please she had shown Daniel, Molly’s heart melted.
“Did you hear what Master said I should do?” Molly asked gently.
Emma nodded solemnly.
Molly sank to her knees next to the cage, her hand on the latch of its door. Emma looked at her through the bars, her eyes very wide.
Molly had to know. Was it the same for Emma, where her coming defloration was concerned? She whispered, “How do you feel? When… when he says it that way, with the f-word?”
A flush came to Emma’s cheeks. “It’s so embarrassing, but…”
“What was he saying to you just now, before he came to tell me to bring you to the bedroom?”
A little smile played on Emma’s lips even as the pink grew more distinct in her cheeks. “He said he was going to, you know, do that, but the way he said it… and maybe he was using his powers, too? He… oh, Molly, I want to say, and I don’t want to say, and I want him to do it, and… and…”
Now the pink had changed almost to red. Molly reached out very lightly into Emma’s mind and found there exactly what she had thought she might find.
“You want him to spank you for wanting it, don’t you?”
Emma bit her lip and nodded, the adorable crease in her brow making another appearance.
“And then…” she whispered, seeming suddenly to be in a kind of reverie.
It was Molly’s turn to nod. Her heart suddenly felt light, and she thought she couldn’t bear not to share Daniel with her new friend. “And then… fuck you.”
Emma couldn’t even nod at that until Molly soothed away a little of her shame. “Did he tell you that you should feel your shame?” she asked.
“Yes,” Emma said softly. “I’m not sure I understood, but I guess I kind of did? He said I should feel it, but not let it stop me.”
Molly smiled. “That’s right.”
“Is that what he said to you, too?” Emma’s eyes had gone wide.
Molly nodded.
Then Emma seemed to think of something else. “He said you were going to help, when he… you know, in the bedroom.” Her blush, which had faded a little, returned in full force.
Now Molly’s heart felt very light indeed. “Is that alright with you, Emma?”
Emma chewed on her cheek for a moment, then said, “Well, I saw you being… you know. And that was in your… your bottom, too. Daniel says that I’ll only pleasure him with my mouth, and in front, tonight.”
Molly felt her own face go scarlet. She knew Emma didn’t mean to embarrass her, but she couldn’t help retorting out of her lingering repression, “You’ll be trained there, soon enough, won’t you? And I guess I’ll watch that, too.”
The other girl’s face took on a wounded aspect, and Molly instantly felt terrible. “I’m sorry, Emma… I know that’s not what you meant.”
Emma nodded, some of the woe fleeing from her face. Her voice, though, still had a plea for forgiveness in it. “I just meant that it’s alright,” she said. “I know that Daniel will… I mean, he said he would… train me… there.”
Molly sensed in the caged girl the same terrible conflict about her bottom that she remembered so well from the beginning of her training. Daniel could soothe away the repression, but especially where bottom training was involved, he refused to soothe away very much of it, because he wanted a girl to blush when he told her to spread her hind-cheeks and display her anus. Emma would have to come to terms with her own shameful need for her master’s penis in her most private place just as Molly had.
“Come on,” Molly said, opening the cage door at last. “Let’s get you ready.”
Molly helped Emma up, and helped her stand, on unsteady feet, for the first time in more than an hour. She led her to the bathroom. As they passed the door to the den, Daniel called, “Molly, please watch Emma pee, if she has to. You girls will watch each other on the toilet from now on.”
Emma turned to Molly, her eyes a little wild, but Molly could feel in the nake
d girl’s mind, again, just what she felt: understanding of why Daniel would make this embarrassment part of their training. Animals didn’t have shame: they did their business in front of anyone.
Molly couldn’t meet her new friend’s eyes as the hissing of her pee came and went, though she did sneak a look between Emma’s thighs at the sweet thatch of auburn curls there, which would so soon be gone, as the golden stream flowed from among them.
“Do I really have to go to the salon tomorrow?” Emma asked quietly as she wiped. “What does it feel like?”
“It hurts a little, but not as bad as you think. And… and you’ll like being bare down there.”
“Why?”
Molly helped Emma up from the toilet before she answered, simply, “Because you know you look the way Daniel wants you to look, when he lifts your nightgown or lowers your panties.”
To Molly’s surprise, Emma giggled at that. “Panties. What are those?”
Molly couldn’t help giggling herself. “I know, right? But I get to wear them when we go out. Master chooses them, of course.”
They had reached Daniel’s bedroom, done in black and red. Emma’s eyes had traveled all around the almost otherworldly space that Molly had come to think sacred, but now they came back to Molly’s face, widening a little. “Really? He chooses your underwear?”
“Of course, and yours too. He likes lacy things. They’re almost like a different kind of harness.”
Emma’s eyes grew rounder. “Lace? I couldn’t wear that kind of thing! It’s like from… from a movie.”
Molly nodded, smiling. “You’ll see. Especially when you’re waxed down there, it makes you feel… special.”
Emma bit her lip, and her eyes turned to the bed. “What do I do now?” she whispered.
Molly knew the answer, because she remembered Daniel’s first command to her in the bedroom as clearly as if he had uttered it only a moment ago.
“Get on the bed, on your hands and knees, with your bottom toward the door.”
Chapter Eleven
My first fucking.
My first fucking.
My first fucking.
The words wouldn’t stop playing inside Emma’s head. She did as Molly had told her, which must be what Daniel had wanted Molly to tell her. Emma didn’t have any clothes on, and now she had to climb onto the bed on all fours, like a pet allowed to jump up onto the place where its master slept. A pet released from its cage, so that its master could play with it.
But Emma’s new master wanted to play with her in a very special way. In his soft voice, after dinner, he had stooped next to her cage. “I’m going to fuck you in a little while, my good girl,” he had said, the words coming in that soothing low tone experienced trainers use with their charges. “Don’t be scared. It will only hurt for a few moments, and then it will feel better than anything you’ve felt in your whole life. I won’t fuck your little bottom tonight, so don’t worry about that, but you’ll go to sleep with my seed in your tummy. Your body was made for fucking, Emma, and for pleasure, and I know how to make you feel good better than any other man in the world.”
And when he made her feel good, of course, she would learn to please him, so that he would do it again and again and again. The pleasure her master gave her, that he had already given her when he had allowed her to masturbate under Molly’s blanket, would make her want to do the shameful things that didn’t feel as good for her: the sucking and the bottom training with plug and penis.
“I can take away your shame,” he had said, “but I won’t—not all of it.”
Molly said now, “On your elbows, and arch your back. Present your pussy.”
Emma could have stood to lose a little more shame, at that point. Her face blazed like the sun, and she wondered how she would have felt about her new friend’s instructions that morning, before Molly had first reached into her mind and soothed away her inhibitions—before Emma had taken her clothes off and displayed her uncivilized nature and her need for taming.
She didn’t obey, but instead said in a whisper, “How did this happen so fast?”
But Molly lost a little of her gentleness at Emma’s failure to carry out the command. “Master will spank you, Emma, if you don’t present your pussy for fucking the way he likes. You’re in training now, and you must do as I tell you.”
Emma thought she heard in Molly’s voice, and maybe even felt in Molly’s heart—though she still didn’t understand well at all what these new feelings about other people meant—that the harshness of these words came not from any cruelty or anger, but from Molly’s own desire. Emma had seen in the den, when Daniel punished and trained his elder house girl, how desperately Molly needed her master’s firm hand. She had felt the same need between her thighs, as she had wickedly rubbed and rubbed there, imagining Molly doing the same, but with the fuzzy blanket between her legs rather than over her lap. She’s masturbated with this blanket, Daniel had said, and the blanket smelled like… it smelled like long afternoons in the cage with a pink blanket to match your pink secrets, gripped, ridden, humped, while your master watched. “Good girl,” he would murmur. “Good girl. You may come again.”
She swallowed hard, and got down onto her elbows. She gave a whimper, because she couldn’t help picturing what it looked like to Molly’s eyes, and she arched her back.
“Knees spread, Emma. That’s it. What a pretty pussy, nice and tight. Master will have so much fun there.”
A little sob burst from Emma, and she had to repeat the question, desperate to have it answered. “How did this happen so fast?”
Molly’s voice changed from the enraptured erotic tone of dominance it had just had, as she delivered her shameful instructions, to the voice of a girl Emma’s own age. “It was just like that for me, too,” she said quietly and confidingly. “I was a waitress and he came into the restaurant. He says it was because he could feel my need. He asked me to consent, without soothing me, and then he started to soothe me once I got into his car.”
Emma remembered Daniel telling her to open the cage, when the time had come for her to go tell her parents. All her shame had come back, and she had known he had stopped influencing her in any supernatural way. But… she had known even then—even before her mother had said, “Fine, Emma. Just know that we won’t be helping you anymore” while her father sat impassively in front of the TV—that she had to come back and take her clothes off again, and get into her cage. Molly’s cage. His cage, and so the cage it seemed for both his young lady house girls. Molly had the silver car, it seemed, and Emma had the silver cage.
Molly’s voice dropped even lower, and she spoke slower, more musingly, “He says it’s not his powers, but my need, that sets me apart. He says that girls like me cry out to dominant men from their hearts and pussies, and that whoever took me in hand would have had the power to master me completely from the start.”
Emma considered this for a moment. She remembered the men’s room at the faculty club, and Professor Gage turning around. She arched her back a little more, to see how it felt to present her pussy, to see if she needed it.
Oh, God. Yes. Yes, I need it.
Then her master’s voice came from behind her. “What happened with the professor, Emma?”
She froze, biting her lip, thinking of what he saw, the way her backside lay entirely at his disposal, the way she had just presented herself even more fully, as she thought of the other man to whom she would have presented her pussy if he had given her the chance.
“I can’t read your mind,” he said in the gentle trainer’s voice. “But I can tell from your feelings that you must be thinking about your past, and I think that can only mean what happened at college.”
She could only whimper in response, wanting him to know that he was right, that he could apparently only ever be right, especially where Emma Woodbine was concerned. But she couldn’t tell him, could she?
Then he put his hand on her bottom, and she shivered. She knew she must tell him, beca
use that hand said he would certainly spank her if she didn’t obey, and how could she ever bear to have a spanking in the nude, the thing she longed for and dreaded most in this suddenly very strange universe?
He hadn’t touched her before, she realized. He had only touched Molly, while she had watched, and he had only spoken to her, except for that gentle, gentle touch in her mind. The hand possessively on her bottom, cupping her right where the cleft led down to the place where her need ached the most, seemed to make the feeling of his presence in her mind warmer and stronger and more soothing.
But still she couldn’t speak.
“I need to discipline you, little one, it seems,” Daniel said. The hand went away, and Emma sobbed, because she heard him moving to the side, the way he would have to if he were going to spank her the way a man spanked a girl positioned naked on his bed. Molly didn’t betray her presence with a sound, but Emma realized she could feel her new friend—she could feel a heart in conflict between compassion for Emma and desire to see Emma trained firmly, even harshly. That drew another sob.
“Shh, little one. Shh, my good girl,” Daniel said, as he put his left hand on her waist to control her. “When you’re ready to tell me about the professor, you let me know, and I’ll stop spanking you.”
“Oh, God,” Emma choked. “Oh, please…”
“Shh,” Daniel said again, and started to spank her.
Emma had supposed that for this kind of spanking, a man who knew what a girl like her needed wouldn’t really spank hard. He would give little slaps that said, “You’re getting a spanking, you naughty girl.” He wouldn’t really spank her.
But Daniel really spanked Emma then, and made her cry out. How must the paddle feel, if her master used his hand like that? She struggled, and her bottom clenched the way she knew she had seen Molly’s do, and she felt in Molly’s heart and—oh, no, please—in Molly’s pussy the same wicked enjoyment Emma herself had felt, while Daniel had paddled Molly over the ottoman.
