Guardian Domination (19 page)

Suddenly, something dawned on me. “Ms. White, my old case worker, she knew about you! That’s why she was so nervous when you gave her that look!”

Jace nodded, explaining that they had performed a thorough background check before releasing me to his care, and that he had been very honest with them regarding his opinion of behavior and consequences. Since he had no criminal record and had presented testimonies of a dozen young woman who he had helped ‘redirect’, the courts believed Jace’s course of action to be worth a try. After my long term failure in foster care and school problems, they wanted to give me a chance to avoid jail.

Both the case worker and the judge had known that I would be facing corporal punishment if I went to live with Jace. He noticed my expression as I felt humiliated and degraded by the discovery.

“Celeste, I don’t know if you realize how badly I wanted to have you. Not just to honor my father’s memory of you and give you a second chance, but because I remembered how sweet you were as a child despite the horrid way you were treated. Dad spent hours agonizing over how they had destroyed your heart, and was tormented with his inability to do anything to help you. When this chance came, I had to grab it and have faith that I could rekindle that sweetness inside of you,” he said softly. “I put myself out there and risked the same embarrassment as you did so that I could gain custody. I was also unwavering. I told the caseworker and judge that there was no negotiation—you would be spanked on your bare bottom if you needed discipline and that I would train you as a submissive.”

“I can’t believe they allowed you to take me.” I was stunned.

“To be truthful, I was too, but I had to take that chance. There is no way I would have been able to hide who I was from you forever, and it would have frustrated both of us with my being limited as to how I wanted to direct you. The reason I was able to get the conservatorship completed so quickly is because of the dramatic improvement you showed during the time you were with me. The judge was very impressed with your interview and told me directly that he respected my technique and wished more parents would do the same. I just feel, though…”

“What? Tell me?”

Jace looked out at the ocean and took a deep breath. “Sometimes I feel like I’m training a submissive instead of raising a little girl. I just don’t know any other way to do it. And… I’m falling in love with you.” It almost sounded like an apology.

Finally, he said it! I fought not to make a big deal of it to save him from embarrassment. “I’m nineteen now, and not a little girl. And I’ve already told you how I feel. I love you too and I want to be trained as your submissive. And, maybe, even your slave.”

Jace glanced at me, a look of relief on his face. “I’m sensing that day will be coming soon enough. We don’t need to rush it.”

“And after me, you won’t want anyone else,” I said smugly. Jace just smiled, looking warmly into my eyes. I think he liked that thought as much as I did.

Chapter Fifteen

Changes

I’ve never done well with changes, particularly ones that do not include me in the decision making process. Jace and Mark both decided that it was to my benefit to attend classes outside of the safety of our home.

This conclusion was made when Mark was approached with an opportunity to take the vice principal position of a nearby private academy which housed junior and senior high school students, and offered a full curriculum of college prep classes for new graduates preparing to attend college.

Dr. Parker had visited our home several times and had been thoroughly impressed by my ability to converse in multiple subject areas, as well as the distinct changes he saw in my behavior, manners and responsibilities. Jace gave Mark full credit, and expressed how much I had thrived under his tutelage. Dr. Parker took this information to the Board of Directors, and nominated Mark for the position.

Another change was that Mark felt, having heard Jace state numerous times how he owned my butt, any corporal punishment should all now fall to Jace. We had both noticed recently how Jace had become very possessive of my bottom and seemed to struggle if he found out Mark disciplined me. My comment to Jace regarding my opinion of his claim to my backside earned me yet another trip over his lap, this time leaving me wailing and begging him to stop.

Mark just shook his head unsympathetically and stated that I would have to learn consequences like the other kids at the school, and what Jace did in addition at home needed to be his domain. Jace quickly agreed, adding that any school-related offense would result in a severe paddling or caning.

The third change involved Jace’s opinion that I needed to learn an instrument. He had a baby grand delivered and placed on the empty platform in the corner of the living room, right near the French doors that led to the formal dining room. He hired Mdm. Koravich to teach me classical piano and, once she determined I was smart enough to know my right hand from my left, she began to spell out scales and how to read the score.

I dazed out as she was talking and started playing chopsticks out of boredom. I yelped as she rapped me HARD on the knuckles and told me to respect the instrument. She then gave Jace my practice assignment and told him “No more chopstick on beautiful piano. She play one hour every day, yah?”

Jace looked amused as he saw my glower, and promised an hour and a half. I stormed over to the couch and plopped down, arms crossed and fuming. I’d rather play the drums—at least it was something I could hit.

Jace sat next to me, quietly going through the assignment before offering to help me learn to read the music and work with me during my practice. I begged him to teach me guitar instead, and he consented to do so
after
I learned piano basics. Well, I had a few surprises up my sleeve.

“So, if I learn how to read music and play something on the piano, you will let me stop lessons and you’ll teach me guitar instead?”

“Yes, but something significant.
Mary had a Little Lamb
does not count.”

“A classical piece?” I asked innocently.

Jace looked suspicious. “What are you up to?”

“Nuthin. I just hate piano lessons. I told you before you bought the stupid thing,” I grumbled.

Jace mussed my hair. “It’s good for you, Hon. Now, I want to hear you practice every day, okay? You might find you like it the more you do it.”

“I guarantee that will
not
be the case,” I commented back, and then added evilly, “How about the violin?”

“I love you, but no. No bagpipes, accordion, or saxophone either.” He stood up and kissed my cheek. “I’m running to the store for some things. Wanna come?”

“No, I’m going to stay here and pout because you’re so mean.”

“Okay, have fun. See you in a little while. Love you.”

“Yeah, back at you.” I waited until the car drove away and plopped back down at the piano, resting my fingers on the keys. Too bad I really hated practice. It had been a long time… now how much do I remember?

My last piano lesson was the following week when I threw out Solfeggietto by Bach from memory. The teacher pursed her lips together like she just sucked a lemon while Jace stood with his mouth hanging open.

I smiled in all sweetness when I looked at him and asked, “So when do I start my guitar lessons?”

* * *

“When were you planning on telling me you could play?” Jace asked gruffly, handing me the pretty cherry Ovation acoustic he bought for my first lesson.

My sweetest smile again was given. “You never asked.”

“I should know better than to assume anything when it comes to you. You are such a weasel,” he sighed, taking his Martin acoustic out and tuning it. “Just so you know, it’s going to be harder on you with me teaching you. You can’t pull any stunts on me and I expect you to be practicing what I show you. My time is valuable and if you waste it, you will pay.”

“You are going to charge me for lessons? I have no money,” I frowned.

“I will take it out on your bare bottom, Youngster. You will take me seriously, one way or another. Got it?”

“You’re mean,” I grumbled.

He showed me the basics and, after thirty minutes, my fingers felt raw and tender. Jace kissed my fingertips and promised they would callus in no time if I worked in short intervals. He gave me my first assignment and set a regular time for lessons and practice. I love Jace, but, as a teacher, he made Mark look like a novice. The following week, I sat down with him on the couch for my review. Jace frowned, listening to me scratch out the scale, then reached for my left hand.

“Let me see your fingertips,” he commanded. Reluctantly, I obeyed. My fingers were no longer tender because I had not bothered to practice more than five minutes each day. He looked at them closely and then ran his nail across them. “Very interesting, no calluses and no tenderness. And it sound like you practiced, what? 10 minutes a day?” I looked down at my sneakers, hating it when Jace scolded me. “Celeste, look at me. How much did you practice?”

“Maybe 5 or 10 minutes a day.”

“How much did I instruct you to practice?”

“Thirty minutes to an hour. But my fingers hurt!”

“That’s not all that’s going to hurt. Let’s see, you owe me twenty minutes a day for seven days… that’s 140 minutes, right?”

“Yes, sir,” I mumbled. I had a sick feeling I knew where this was going.

“That’s almost two-and-a-half hours. Hmmm, what should I do?” Jace asked rhetorically. I grimaced and, without a word, stood up, dropped my shorts and laid across his knee with my hands on the floor. He laughed, his hand on my bottom, patting it like he often did to the puppies’ heads.

“Well, now, my little student is finally learning something. 140. And don’t move.”

I yelped loudly as his hand dropped hard against my bare flesh, the sound reverberating off the high walls and ceiling. There was no gentleness in those smacks and the sharp sound of the spanking rung through the house accompanied by my heartfelt apologies. I struggled so hard not to move or kick, but failed miserably. The flurry of spanks seemed endless, burning every inch of my poor bottom. When he was finally finished, he sat me on the couch, pants still down to my ankles, and handed me the guitar.

“Now, your bottom
and
your fingers will be sore. Play that scale. For every mistake, you will get ten more spanks.”

Sniffling, I obeyed. And was over his knee for another fifty sound swats across my sit spot. Sniveling, I was sat back down to try again. This time, I received twenty hard strokes of his hand, some landing on my upper thighs. My bottom was stinging dreadfully and I could hardly sit still. And I couldn’t see the strings through my tears. Third time, ten spanks. Hard and sharp, leaving me blubbering. Fourth time, no mistakes! Jace took me in his arms and told me how well I did and that he trusted me to keep practicing and avoid another “unpleasant lesson.”

He then stood me up to fix my shorts and took my hand, leading me to the piano. “Sit,” he ordered.

Easier said than done. He brought his guitar and some sheet music over, flipped it open, and commanded that I play. It was so humiliating with Jace playing along and hearing all my mistakes, and then to listen to him praise me when I certainly did not deserve it. I hated to be embarrassed in front of him because I was so bad at something he loved. I considered possibly practicing the piano a little more, for him. Once again, I found myself disregarding my own discomfort to please him and realized that I was sinking deeper into this mode known as ‘submission’.

Chapter Sixteen

Jace's Worse Nightmare

Even worse than being stuck in a broken elevator listening to Kenny G is Jace’s fear of history repeating itself when it comes to me. That fear arose the day Mark dragged me bodily into his car to start school.

I reverted to throwing a childish temper tantrum and fought him, kicking and screaming, with heated threats to blow up buildings and be escorted home by a SWAT team. Fed up with my behavior, I ended up, face down on the back seat of the car, skirt up, panties down, for a nasty strapping by Jace with his belt. I
hated
them for forcing this upon me and steamed angrily, and painfully, as I looked out the window during our silent drive to Fulton Academy.

As Mark parked the car in his reserved spot, a bunch of kids watched us as we exited. We decided that, if anyone asked, we would just keep it simple and say he was my brother. Mark ushered me to the area where I was given my schedule and then I followed him into his new office to await my guide. Mark closed the door behind him and leaned back on the edge of his big desk, hands resting on either side.

“While we’re waiting for your escort, I wanted to say something. I know this is hard for you, but I know that you’ll do fine. I’m here in case you need me, okay? I know we promised Jace not to let you come see me whenever you feel like it, but I’m not going to be firm about it. Just please, stay out of trouble. For me?” he asked, holding his arms out for me.

I walked into his embrace, face against his chest, and held him tightly. It felt good to know I had one friend here. He kissed me on top of the head then held up my chin to look at him. “You okay?”

I nodded, meeting his gaze. He kissed my forehead and called “Enter!” at the knock on the door. I turned around to see this tall, hot looking guy walk in.

“Hi, I’m Chad, senior class president. Welcome to Fulton, Mr. Coleman.”

“Nice to meet you, Chad. This is Celeste. Are you her school attendant?”

“Yes, sir. I’ll show her around, help her find her classes, get adjusted and assist with any schoolwork she might need. We have an active Big Brother/Big Sister program here for new students.”

“Very good, I expect you to take extra special care of her. Celeste? I’ll see you after school. Have a good day, okay?”

Mark patted my shoulder and sent me out of his office.