Eventide (Her Father, My Master) (14 page)

I was a bit messed up.

I tried to organize my thoughts as I started my car, backing out of the parking lot spot and then driving

through the lot. I wasn't obsessed with Maddie, Derrick was wrong about that. And I couldn't even begin

to explain to him why I wasn't obsessed with her. She was a presence in my life by necessity, because of

my relationship with her father. Thankfully Mr. Hendricks didn't talk about her all that much, and

thankfully I still rarely saw her, but it was still hard to get her out of my mind, especially considering her pictures littered the hallways of my master's house. But I wasn't obsessed with her. Her presence was

just made obvious to me all the time.

Even over the summer, even at my job, I had to acknowledge her presence practically every day.

Even with Derrick, who'd dated her. Who probably had sex with her. I shuddered at the thought. I didn't

want to think about her having sex with anyone I knew. It brought up too many bad memories.

Maybe that's why I'd subconsciously gone for her father. Not for revenge, but to get the one man in the

world that I knew she wouldn't have sex with.

Not that, couldn't be it. My hands tightened reflexively on the steering wheel as I drove.

Where was I even going? I was driving about aimlessly, but it wasn't as aimless as I thought. Before I

was even aware of it, I was driving up my parents' street. How did I end up here? My auto-pilot must

have taken over.

Luckily, they were both at work as I drove past their house. There was no way they would know that I

was there, and there was no way I was going to push the risk I was taking any further. I left their street

behind, longingly looking back at my childhood home in the rear view mirror.

I wished it could be easier. I wished I could go back to a simpler time. I had good memories with

Maddie, a lot of good memories. We were childhood friends, going to the same schools since

kindergarten, and our friendship had only grown and blossomed over those years. We were in the Girl

Scouts together. We spent entire summers together. We even went to camps together, molding our

interests to echo each other so we'd always be together.

But in high school, we grew apart. At first it was in little ways. I went for cheerleading, Maddie

went for volleyball. I focused my studies on languages and art, while she focused on math and science.

We joined different extra-curricular clubs. We met our other friends, Tiffany, Sophie, and Jess, and we

hung out with those girls more. All in all, we grew apart.

Why couldn't things just stay the same forever?

Even now, I felt myself drifting away from my master. I wanted to stay with him, but I wanted other

things as well, things that I couldn't get if I did stay with him. I would have to make a decision about this eventually.

But not now. I pushed the uncomfortable, unwanted thoughts out of my head as I drove towards the

mall. I still had a few hours left of freedom.

*****

I did brave the mall, only because I knew that I would have to keep myself acclimated to the idea of

being around other people. After my last year with Mr. Hendricks, I found that I'd developed a mild

agoraphobia, and it had taken me all summer to chase that irrational fear away.

I was also socially awkward. I felt stunted in ways I'd never felt before. I'd never had trouble talking to people before, but now I found myself being blunt, saying whatever thought crossed my mind. I seemed to

have lost my brain-to-mouth filter. I needed to get that back too.

So, I went to the mall, and shopped. I forced myself to talk to sales associates, forced myself to try on

clothing, even though a large part of my brain was screaming that it was stupid and useless. I didn't wear

clothes now, after all.

My master had given me a small amount of money to spend though, so I ended buying a skirt, and then

lunch at the food court. It'd been so long since I went off his strict diet. The food – junk food – was so rich and greasy that I was feeling nauseous before I even finished my meal. I ended up abandoning the

fries in the trash.

Thankfully, I didn't see anyone else that I knew, though. I judiciously avoided the coffee shop where

I'd worked, even though it was on the way home. No one I knew would be there anyways, most likely.

I still technically had an hour to play hooky, by the time I returned, but I just didn't want to be out

anymore. My impromptu meeting with Derrick and subsequent stirring of emotions had left me feeling

drained the rest of the day. By five, I was eager to return to Mr. Hendricks.

Still, I also felt nervous when I pulled up his driveway and into his garage. I'd forgotten about the

play aspect of this activity. He would probably have some sort of punishment in store for me, due to the

fact that I'd 'snuck' out. I wondered what he had planned.

As silently as possible, I pulled the car into the garage, then took my meager purchases out of the

passenger seat and quietly crept into the house. Mr. Hendricks hadn't told me to sneak to my room, but I

thought it would add to the excitement and realism of the scenario. And it did. I found my heart begin to

race, my body tense as I padded down the hallway towards the stairs. I kept expecting my master to leap

out of any and every dark shadow and corner, and punish me soundly for my little transgression.

He didn't though, and I ended up making it safely to my room. But that was about as far as I was able

to make it without him noticing, because he was sitting on my bed, waiting for me.

“Well, well, well,” he said lowly, slapping a strap of leather against the palm of his hand, looking at

me sternly. “It would appear my little bird decided to try flying the coop today.”

I flushed hotly and dropped my head, looking at my shoes, and then flushed even more hotly when I

realized that I was still clothed. That would only add to my punishment, and I could see what he had

planned was rather serious. “I... I did, sir,” I finally replied. I knew it was futile to try to lie. He'd found me out.

He stood abruptly, and scowled at me. “Strip,” he commanded. He didn't need to yell at me, or

question why I was even wearing clothes. He didn't want to know why, he just wanted to command me.

And I obeyed. Quickly, I dropped my bag to the ground, and slipped out of my clothes and shoes.

Soon, I was naked, naked as I always was in front of him. I already felt more at ease, though my skin and

body tingled with the anticipated painful pleasure that he would bring me.

“Come here,” he said in that deep, authoritative voice of his, and I felt my head go dizzy. How could I

doubt this? How could I doubt him? I needed to be with my master.

It was like he was pulling me with an invisible string. I wasn't even in control of my own body, now.

Tentatively, I took a step forward, then another step. A mere dozen paces closed the gap between us. He

towered over me, a hulking goliath of a man. He was so easily able to overpower me. I couldn't do

anything about it, either.

He sat back down. “On my lap,” he ordered.

I sat down on his lap, my bare flesh rubbing against the fabric of his pants, and I could feel a

thickening erection there already. He growled and grabbed me, flipping me over do my stomach was on

his knees now, my bare ass exposed to him and his wicked piece of leather. I knew what was coming

next. I savored it. I relished it.

But he wanted me to squirm first. He didn't hit me yet, he didn't spank me for being a bad, naughty girl

who disobeyed him and left the house. He merely placed a hand over my waist, pulling me even closer to

him, gripping me tightly against his body. “What are you?” he said lowly, his tone hiding the arousal that

was now pressing against my stomach.

“I'm a bad girl. I'm a naughty girl. I disobeyed my master.”

“And what does your master give you, when you disobey him?”

I took a shuddering breath. “Punishment.”

“That's right.” As he spoke, his hand stroked downwards, pressing down against the small of my

back, and then my ass. He dipped that roaming hand between my thighs now, brushing his thick fingers

against the outer folds of my needy cunt. I jumped at the sudden sensation. I was so sensitive, and his

touch was almost too much for me. It was like electricity against that part of my body. It zapped and

jolted its way up to my brain.

“Yes, master,” I gasped, flexing my muscles, pushing my ass up against that questing hand, but he only

chuckled lightly and pushed me back down into his lap, his erection now full and thick, poking into my

soft belly.

“If I didn't know better, I'd say you enjoy your little punishments, pet,” he said now, holding me with

both hands tight against his body.

I groaned lowly, nodding as I wiggled against him. I did love his punishments, I loved everything he

did to me, every time he pushed me to my limit. Even the times I didn't love quite so much, I still

remembered fondly, because that was time my master was paying attention to me, showing me his own

brand of beautiful, sadistic love for what we had.

And apparently he couldn't hold back on the teasing any longer. With a wordless growl, he brought

his hand down. It whistled through the air before connecting with my ass. My skin rippled from the force

of it, and fire lanced its way through my skin and up my back. I screamed and scrabbled against him.

“What are you?” he bellowed, his hand striking me again.

“I'm a naughty girl!” I whimpered in reply. “I'm a bad slave!” Again the hand slapped down, leaving

my skin raw and red, tingling hotly.

Now the leather strap came out. I heard him pick it up off the bed, and he draped it across my ass, the

cool leather feeling like a searing iron against my burning flesh. “You are a bad, naughty slave, and this

is going to be your punishment,” he said quietly, sounding like he was in complete control once again.

Which he was.

I waited with bated breath for him to describe my punishment to me, but apparently he wanted to give

a demonstration, instead. The air whistled now with the sound of the strap, and it crashed down against

my ass with as much force as his hand had, if not even more. I whimpered and groaned at the burning,

stinging, tingling feeling. It surged up my body, into my brain, and I was flooded with adrenaline. Every sense was heightened, everything that happened was etched into my mind in sharp relief. I wanted more,

even more. I wanted to feel this way over every inch of my body.

“You are a bad, naughty girl, and I'm going to spank you,” Mr. Hendricks said, enunciating every word

with a sharp hit of leather against my skin. I could only nod in agreement and squirm against him as he

administered my deserved punishment. I was a bad girl. A bad, bad girl.

Again and again he hit me, until I was pushed to my limit once again, until the pain overflowed in my

brain, until I couldn't feel anything at all. The skin on my ass and back felt like it was on fire. I couldn't take much more of this.

My master sensed my limit being approached though, and he threw the whip aside. With a devilish

sparkle in his eyes, he lifted me up once again and threw me on the bed this time. My skin screamed in

searing pain as it brushed against the sheets, which felt like the harshest steel wool against my abused

ass. Mr. Hendricks quickly stripped, and soon stood before me naked. But his nakedness wasn't like

mine – it wasn't a show of weakness or servitude. It was a show of power, and he was powerful indeed,

with his sharp rippling muscles. His skin strained to contain them, and they flexed and moved as he

climbed onto the bed, covering me, pressing me down into the comforter so that I could barely breathe.

His cock was huge, completely hard and now pressing harshly against my belly as he covered me

completely, dominating me totally and utterly. “You are a bad slave,” he whispered harshly into my ear,

his breath ragged and hot on my skin, sending more tingles of lust into my brain. “You need to be fucked

into submission again, I think.”

With that said, he dragged his cock lower, and lower, pre-come smearing against my belly and then

my thighs. He forced his way between my legs now, grabbing my thighs and wrenching apart so that he

could enter me. And enter me he did, quickly and without ceremony, suddenly spreading my cunt wide as

well the full length of his cock. I was glad for how dripping wet I was at that moment. Even with my

juices, he was still painfully large inside me. I screamed again, and he brought a hand up, slapping one of my breasts sharply.

“No screaming,” he growled, his hand clenching around my skin painfully now. Tears welled in my

eyes from the sharpness of it, but I nodded. I understand. Screaming was one of my few outlets, and he

was denying me that outlet. I had to control myself, even in this time of uncontrolled lust.

Slowly, so slowly, he began to thrust, first pulling his rock hard dick all the way out, and then

slamming it back inside me with the force of a raging bull. The feeling of being emptied and then filled

again was almost too much for me. I could already feel pleasure surging through my veins in the place of

the pain he was giving me a few minutes ago. My climax was rising, and rising quickly.

Faster and faster he went now. This was no slow, artful, playful fuck. This was a rough pounding.