Chapter 8

I know it might sound silly, but facing off against that barnyard Rooster had made me feel like a champion. I was still a wet behind the ears Freshman in High School. This was the first real bully I ever stared down. There was a symbolism in my victory that opened my eyes to something I should have known all along. I needed to have more confidence and start believing in myself, or else no one would. My father had been trying to tell me that for years and I didn’t really listen. I wondered if his radio-silence had been intentional.

It didn’t seem like my father to not return his calls or messages but then I never expected he was a BDSM Master either.

Even the stellar first-time blowjob I received earlier in the day hadn’t made me feel this masculine. I should have been thankful to Becky that she called me a little Rooster and made me feel inferior to Balrog. It made the experience of standing up to him all the more satisfying. The Rooster could do nothing to me and had backed down when I stood up to him. I was far larger than him, and now that he was vanquished, I was ready for a new challenge.

“Do you need to go pee?” I asked Stacy as we approached her front porch and the garden hose I would need to use to wash her off.

“I don’t go pee, Sir. Sluts take pisses, and yes, thank you for asking,” Stacy asked if she could dig a little hole and squat.

“You don’t care if I watch?” I asked as I nodded that she could dig the hole.

“You are going to whether I want you to or not so knock yourself out, Sir” she offered like she didn’t care one way or the other. Stacy had a tom-boy quality to her like nudity was no big deal to her. I felt it was pretty easy not to be self-conscious about being naked when you look like her. I had no idea at that time that confidence was an act. She could sometimes be her own biggest critic.

She squatted down, stuck her butt out, and asked me nicely to remove her butt plug.

“Are you going to shit, too?” I asked her.

“I am not allowed to piss while wearing the plug in my ass, Sir. It is a house rule that if I am supervised I have to beg to remove it first. I will probably drip down my thighs. If you would be kind enough to stick it in my mouth until I finish, that would be great,” she asked politely as if she was asking me to pass over the butter at dinner.

I didn’t think she was really begging at all. It felt like she was asking me to do her a minor favor. Yet, the casual way that she asked me to remove her butt plug made it seem even more arousing to me. It should have been deeply humiliating to her to have me handle her plug and look at her dirty-butt hole but Stacy acted like it was perfectly routine.

I did as she said, and she held her mouth wide open. There wasn’t a sliver of brown on the red latex plug when I placed it in her pretty mouth. She squatted over the hole, and held her thin little pussy flaps apart as far as they would go. I had a pretty long list of charges to make against Becky for the next evaluation! Stacy had also provided me with a lot of food for thought about the blackmail fantasy.

I didn’t have any desire to blackmail anyone. The fact that the girls chose to obey willingly made it easier for me to feel less guilty about being amused by their humiliation. If this was forced upon them, it might make me feel uneasy. I had never imagined someone would fantasize about being blackmailed. I did a little searching on my phone about that and BDSM in general. I found that there were a lot of things I didn’t know!

I didn’t watch Stacy piss. I stared at my phone.

“Hey, you are missing it, Sir!” Stacy urged me to look at her. She thought I was into freaky shit like this, and honestly, I was truly turned on by it. It wasn’t so much the act as the fact she had to expose herself and do it in front of me that turned me on. It was so taboo, and it must have been humiliating to squat like that at my feet with her legs as wide as she could spread them in that position.

She had the plug clenched in her teeth and remained in a squatting position. I heard the tiny trickle of her golden stream. I decided to try ignoring her. I had seen her sister piss, and I couldn’t tell where her pee came from. It was somewhere deep inside her vagina. I was admittedly curious to watch Stacy perform this very intimate act, but I thought acting aloof would help.

I watched out of the corner of my eye and pretended not to care. Stacy held her pussy lips apart wide. She even pissed on her fingers because she was trying to hold them apart so wide. I realized that was another rule that Becky must have broken. I admired the tendons in Stacy’s athletic thighs as she spread her legs apart wide. The pretty teen concentrated on performing this humiliating act for me, whether I watched or not.

“You know we probably have a little time before we have to go back in, Sir,” Stacy suggested playfully as she rubbed my crotch through my denim. I asked her what she wanted to do. “Climb a tree,” she said sarcastically before covering the hole with dirt and standing up. “I am kidding, sir. Do you want to fuck me and get it over with? I know you want to and I don’t mind. I fucked my brains out this afternoon on dildos. I am strangely turned on by Mandingo, and I wouldn’t mind a little roll in the hay,” she offered like sex was any other normal bodily function for her.

“Are you just offering so you can take my V-card?” I asked her skeptically. It was surreal talking to a girl holding a butt plug in her teeth like a cigar.

“I don’t’ care about adding you to my scoreboard. Even if your Dad has run off on a drunken bender and never comes back, we are probably stuck with you now. You are going to fuck me sooner or later. We may as well knock boots,” she offered.

“You don’t make it sound like you are all that interested?” I wanted her to want me! I made a statement but I was really asking if she wanted me. I needed to hear her say she wanted me. I wanted to hear it.

“Hon, look at me. I am like prime jail bait material. I’ve got nice tits, blonde hair, blue eyes, and all my teeth,” Stacy smiled broadly. “If you gave me Tinder and 10 minutes, I could have a line of cars here filled with nasty men who want to tie me up with their neckties and pluck me. Do you want to fuck or not?” she asked with an expression that suggested she knew she was hot shit.

I wanted to tell her no just because she was supposed to be the submissive one. I reminded her of that fact.

Stacy sighed and folded her arms. She stood with her hips akimbo like she was losing patience with me. “Oh please, Master Danny, have your way with me,” she asked if that was what I wanted to hear.

Strangely, it wasn’t. I realized I didn’t want to order her to have sex with me at all. I was flattered that Stacy asked me to have sex in the first place. She probably got hit on all the time at school. I was too shy or naïve to try to hit on her or ask her to have sex. Even though I was in charge today during her chores and could swat her ass, I wasn’t prepared to ask her for sex.

If I had swagger and confidence like my brother, I might have tried a little too hard to win her over. I could have come across cocky or tried to be amusing. I could have lavished her with her compliments. She was used to guys who tried hard to pursue her and win her affection. Stacy had the kind of beauty that boys fight over.

“Yes, but you better not put me on a scoreboard! I am trusting you, Stacey Horley!” I held up a finger and smirked to make it clear I was teasing.

“Butt plug in or out?” she asked me as we walked briskly back to the barn. She seemed genuinely excited even though moments earlier, she acted like she couldn’t care less if she had sex with me. I was already hard, and all smiles myself.

“Definitely out,” I said.

“Do you mind carrying it then? I am not supposed to touch it, and I want my mouth free,” she said.

“Am I going to receive one of your delightful blowjobs?” I started to ask in the quirky-teasing way we often talked to each other this afternoon. She cut me off before I could finish asking about comparing her blowjob to the one her sister gave me and slapped the butt plug into my hand. Then she held me close and planted my first real kiss on my mouth.

I can’t describe it. I wish I were an author who could write in detail what a first real passionate kiss feels like on a warm day in the country. I don’t think words have been invented in the English language to truly capture the nerve endings on your face sending pleasure signals to your brain. Everything is new and yet familiar at the same time. The pressure from her full lips against mine and then the moment you both open your mouths and air passes from her lungs to yours is something I can relive a thousand times but never tell you about in a way that would help you imagine how I felt.

The wetness of her tongue as it passed delicately across the threshold of my lips and danced on my teeth before I joined my tongue to hers was nothing like the forceful tonsil hockey I saw her play with her sister. We kissed tenderly like young lovers, but unless you’ve been a young lover, then you have no idea what I am talking about.

Everything about my senses changed. I noticed how clean the air smelled despite the barnyard animals nearby. I felt the warmth of the sun on my hair. I felt her nipples pressed against my shirt as they hardened, and she leaned in close to me. I held her tight, and I didn’t feel like grabbing her ass or cunt and slapping her. I felt like caressing her and exploring her body. I wanted that kiss to last forever, and it did. It is right here in my memory for the rest of my life, but the irony is that I can never tell a single soul about it in a way that they can understand because the words truly escape me.

Her hot breath smelled a little of bacon and eggs. I didn’t want to let her pull away. We kept walking and might have walked smack into a fence post if I didn’t eventually open my eyes and stop us. I held that kiss as long as I could, and even though I knew it wasn’t Stacy’s first kiss, it felt like it was. I imagined no one else in the world had ever made her feel like she just made me feel. I felt like something passed between us that was bigger than a kiss and more than a little game between a bored slut and a nerdy boy down on the farm.

“Don’t cream your jeans before we get into the barn, cowboy,” Stacy whispered sweetly. It wasn’t the lustful whisper of her mom. It wasn’t the baited whisper of Becky when she begged me to keep her secrets. This was the playful whisper of a girl who was either the world’s greatest actress or she was playfully enjoying our discreet little frolic.

She looked down at her feet after that kiss. Then there was a moment that her eyes flicked up. I wish I could point to a movie when the actress times it just right, but when she looked into my eyes I felt like she was completely mine and I was hers. Her soft blue doe-eyes implored me to take her, and that is what I did.

I led her into the barn and removed my jeans while she wiggled underneath me against the uncomfortable straw piled up in the center of the old barn. I was excited to get started, and I knew nothing of foreplay.

I didn’t go down on her or try to kiss her again. I went straight to pound-town, and once my jeans were off, I slipped my dick into her wet pussy. There were awkward moments when Stacy had to adjust and guide my dick into her tight little cunt, but I don’t remember those. I remember gliding in and out of her pussy in long, easy, pleasurable strokes. I could stick my cock all the way inside her to the base. I was still wearing my shirt, and I removed it after I was inside of her.

I was very self-conscious about my bony chest. It was little more than skin tightly covering a ribcage. Shaggy from Scooby-Doo would look buff compared to me. My brother Joe had a manly looking chest with hair on it. My chest was as hairless as Stacy’s bald cunt.

I kissed her neck and ears and occasionally her lips. There was never a kiss like that first kiss. It was truly lightning in a bottle that had electrified me and yet could not be replicated.

“Here, let me drive a little, Sir” Stacy had stoically let me set the pace, which I soon realized was ploddingly slow. She gyrated her hips in directions I didn’t know they could go, and when I didn’t cum right away, she seemed impressed. She flipped me over onto my back. “Sorry that the straw is so rough,” she said.

It didn’t seem that bad at first. It was very scratchy, and I had a new appreciation for what the girl felt when she laid in the straw.

Stacy more than made up for it by climbing on top of me and then sitting on my cock. She fucked herself much more forcefully than I had been doing. I thought REAL sex was supposed to be sweet and slow. I had nothing to base that on besides a few skin movies on Cinemax. I rarely downloaded porn of two people fucking. It seemed so boring compared to all the other kinky things that I didn’t think it was worth saving to the SD card. I was pleasantly surprised there were many ways to fuck, and as Stacy balanced herself by holding her hands flat against my chest, she demonstrated how she could fuck me while being on top of me.

I felt like the wooden plank from her dildo training. At first, Stacy slowly glided up the shaft of my cock, and then she let her hips drop and pounded herself into my groin to take the full measure of my dick. Then she started to move much faster and hump me. She was gliding across two to three inches of my cock, and what turned me on the most was looking up her nose and watching her face.

I had seen up her nose when I inspected her. Her nostrils were flaring now, and her mouth was partially open. It was like she was exposing to me the inner secrets of her body as she fucked my brains out. I wanted to look into her brain and be sure that she was sincerely enjoying this experience as much as I was.

Her body told me she was. She began to moan slowly, and when she reached a point of orgasmic joy when she should have a crescendo of an orgasm, she stopped herself and froze. I asked her what she was doing.

“I am not allowed to cum, sir!” she said with a frightened expression. Stacy seemed like a rule-breaking free-spirit most of the time, but now she was suddenly petrified to allow herself to experience the joy of sexual release!

“Fuck that! I want you to cum!” I demanded, and then I grabbed her hips and began to force her up and down on my cock with all of my strength. I’d have never been able to make Becky or Juliette glide up and down on my dick this way. Stacy was much more petit, and I managed to take control of her.

“Really? Stacy’s face became filled with joy when I gave her permission to cum. Stacy struck me as the kind of girl who would do whatever she wanted if it made her feel good. Yet, for some reason, hearing me give her permission to cum had made her happy.

In retrospect, I have theorized that Stacy was used to sneaking joy and sexual gratification when she could. She came but always on someone else’s terms and only when she finished pleasing them. I genuinely still believe, to this day, that was the first time anyone had told Stacy to have an orgasm without any pre-conditions. She and I bumped hips up and down until I finally rolled her over and tried again.

“No, not like that,” she got on all fours in the dirt near the haystack, and I got behind her. I knew this position was called doggy style. “Do me like this,” she begged. She told me it pushed her buttons.

I had a tough time at first finding leverage on the ground. I discovered quickly that without a place to plant my feet, I couldn’t really get into a good position with her. She had a very tight pussy as I slid my dick into her like this; it felt like I was scraping the skin off my weiner. I didn’t mind that feeling, though. I pushed through the pain and began to plow into her.

“Oh, fuck! Oh fuck, I am going to cum! You don’t mind, Sir?” she crowed like she was begging for relief. I controlled my breathing and focused on video games. I said nothing. I wondered when the next Star Wars movie would come out and if the next season of the Mandalorian was going to be as good as the last one. I wanted to distract myself from the incredible pussy gripping my dick like a wet, flesh glove. I wanted to do anything besides cum. When I came after a good masturbation session or when Becky gave me a blowjob, all the dirty thoughts evaporate from my mind. If I came, then this would be over, and I didn’t want it to be over. I wanted it to last.

“Oh yes, oh yes, pull my hair, slap my ass, goddamnit, fucking call me a dirty cow!” Stacy grabbed my thighs with her hands as if to pull me deeper into her. She seemed desperate to cum but unable to reach that point and fall off the edge into euphoric bliss.

I grabbed her hair and yanked it back. Then I wrapped my hands around her throat the way that her mother had shown me to do during inspections. I had to do it from behind, but it was similar.

“Yes, yes, oh yes, thank you, Master,” Stacy’s eyes were rolling up into her head. She wasn’t thinking when she called me Master. She probably imagined someone else who had fucked her this way before. I started to have some doubts that I was doing more than fulfilling her fantasies. I was frequently plagued by low self-esteem and self-doubt.

“You sniveling little dog-bitch! I should slap your fat face!” I sneered. Then I smacked her face hard with my hand. It wasn’t easy from behind, but I didn’t hesitate. I had made her cry the night before.

“Fuck yeah, Master Danny! Oh, you are the King!” she flipped over on her back as if surrendering herself to me and spread her legs for me. I slapped her again on the face, and when she didn’t cry, I slapped her face in the opposite direction.

“Goddamnit, fuck me harder! Fuck my little asshole and let me finger myself, Master!” she begged, but there she didn’t wait for an answer. She slid off of my cock and finger fucked herself while offering her asshole to me.

I had no idea if it would fit. She told me it wouldn’t fit. I didn’t think it would, so I put two fingers in her asshole and squeezed her nipple with my other hand. I could tell she was trying to find her G-spot with her fingers.

I’ve never eaten pussy, and I don’t know why I thought now was the time to do it. Stacy’s wet cunt was splayed out before me. It looked hungry, and her fingers were not getting the job done. I honestly thought it might taste like cherries and imagine my surprise to discover it tasted much like fresh piss the first time my tongue touched her delicate clit.

“Oh yes, oh wow,” Stacy grabbed my hair and then found my ears with her fingers. She forced me between her legs so that even if I changed my mind, there was no turning back now. I dove into her pussy with tongue and darted it around. At first, I was exploring, but soon I was trying to spell the alphabet.

She kept trying to touch herself while I licked her pussy. I slapped her hand out of the way twice and jammed my fingers back up her asshole. She squirmed and bucked and then raised her hips a little so that she could wrap her legs around my neck and ride my face.

I discovered that I loved eating pussy – especially when Stacy had a full-on orgasm. My face was slicked with her juices, and it was obvious she was either having an orgasm or an epileptic fit. Stacy started to spasm as her eyes rolled up, and her toes curled up as well. She looked helpless and completely in my control. My hair was a mess, but I didn’t care. I wanted to get her across the finish line. It took a moment for her to finish having a few more physical tremors, and then she rocked to a hard stop with a long deep breath.

“Oh Jesus Christ, if I knew you would do that, I would have asked you to fuck me sooner,” she smiled up at me and gently played with my hard cock. “You didn’t cum?” she asked. I was shocked that she didn’t know that I didn’t cum. I assumed she would feel the hot spooge in her pussy. I shook my head that I hadn’t.

“You lasted a lot longer than your Dad,” she smiled at me. I didn’t know whether to be disgusted by that information or proud. I chose to be proud of my stamina. She apologized for not making me cum, but she had given me so much more. “Don’t worry, you will make me cum later,” I smiled at her.

“Are sure I can’t make you cum now, Master?” Stacy had a look on her face like her day wouldn’t be complete if she didn’t fuck my brains out until I came inside of her. Stacy typically had an expression of obligation on her face when she kissed her sister or bent over for inspections. At that moment, she looked like she had an apologetic need to fuck.

“I really wish I could cum again. I think I need to recharge,” I was hesitant and out of breath.

Stacy took the initiative and began playing with my cock softly and kissing it. She squatted in front of me and tried to jump-start my cock by licking and kissing it until it was hard. She was amused that she couldn’t get me to cum and seemed to see it as a challenge or a dare. “You know when your Dad cums in one of usually makes us squat and drip the cum on the floor beneath our feet,” she said.

I got harder and excited. Ordinarily, I would have been turned off hearing about my father’s sex life. I think it was a combination of the fact that she was playing with me and the impishly slutty look on her face as she told me what he expected of her that turned me on. She was not embarrassed by the admission. If anything, she seemed proud and almost daring me to do the same thing.

I let her suck me hard and once she got me that way she turned around and backed into my cock so that she could ride my dick again. I told her to tell me what he made her do once all the cum dripped out of her tight like pussy.

“Oh god, that is good, Master Danny! Yes! Yes! Oh! Yeah!” she mewled like she was enjoying herself and bit her lip. She didn’t seem to know what to do with her hands as she bounced on my cock. I watched her tits flap back and forth as she rode my dick bent over much like she would for an inspection or to be paddled. “Your dad tells one of us to lick up the little paddle of goo from the floor and then we kiss it back and forth into each other’s mouth while he watches,” She admitted. Her story sounded so dirty and what turned me on the most was that Stacy was unrepentant about just how degrading it made her feel while appearing delighted to do it. I had a hard time reconciling the idea of someone being delighted by their own humiliation but in that moment I registered that look on her face as she looked over her shoulder at me.

She was masterful at sneering and look down her nose at me like a stuck up cunt with ease. She could also flirt and act like a tom-boy who doesn’t care if I saw her naked. This expression was entirely different. It was as if she enjoyed being dared to something so degrading.

“I am going to make you do that,” I remember promising her and then my toes curled up. My eyes rolled into the back of my head. Every muscle in my body grew tight and my heart felt like it was going to stop while it raced like I was running a marathon. I masturbated all the time but seldom did I ever have an orgasm like this. I gripped her ass cheeks and pulled her close so that I could push my seed into her. I grunted and groaned.

Stacy didn’t have an orgasm herself but she looked pleased that she could make me cum. It was if she passed her own personal test. I think she felt like she had me so close to an orgasm all she had to do was tickle me with her pussy and she’d be able to finish the job. She watched my face go white and giggled because I probably looked like I was bungie jumping backwards off a high bridge while I finished pumping my cum into her pink little pussy.

She squatted over a wooden board and asked me if I wanted to watch her drip out the cum and lap it back up.

“Yes, yes,” I gasped for air as I tried to recover. I was fully satisfied and no longer had any dirty thoughts. I felt like I pumped my naughty desires into her pussy-pocket and they belonged to her now. I just wanted to put my jeans on and finish our chores. I did want to see her kiss the cum back and forth with her sister or mother though.

“Thank you, Sir,” Stacy agreed. It took her longer than I thought to drip the cum out of her pussy. She smiled at me while I recovered. She noticed I zipped up my pants before letting her lick my cock clean. I could tell Stacy was ready to go again if I was. I had nothing left to give her left inside my balls. She dutifully kneeled in front of the tiny gob of goo that had been my spunk and licked it up. She showed it to me and asked if she could swallow.

“Yes, good girl” I said. She swallowed and showed me her empty mouth. Her nipples were incredibly perky. Her breasts were smaller than her sister and mother but she had spectacular nipples that reminded me of elastic chewing gum – I just wanted to gnaw on them.

“Thank you, Sir. That was fun. We’ll have to do this again!” then Stacy stood up without asking permission to look for her butt plug so she can ask me to stick it back up her ass. I felt like a royal prince using one of my father’s subjects. She knew her station required her to be plugged and she didn’t complain about it. She acted like this was just how things are here and that made me feel immensely grateful my father had left me here this weekend. I felt like he must have known this would happen and been fine with it.

The plug was probably somewhere in the hay.

“What happened to calling me Master Danny?” I smirked at her.

She bent over at the waist and revealed her wet puffy pussy and pink little asshole to me as she fished around for the plug. “I cried out Master during the throes of passion. You can’t hold me to that,” she grinned playfully.

“You thought about me as your Master?” I asked her as I got dressed. I wiped off my dick with my underwear. Mandingo had watched the entire thing unfold. I smiled at him like we were in this together.

“I didn’t say, Master Danny,” Stacy assured me she blurted out, “Master Daddy!” I knew she was kidding. We were all fun and games and bright-eyed lovers until we realized we couldn’t find her butt plug. You know the story about looking for a needle in a haystack? You’d think it would be easier to find a red, latex sex toy in one, but neither of us could locate it.

“Oh, fucking A! mom is going to lose her mind when I come home without that butt plug. She takes that shit very seriously,” she said. She accused me of hiding it intentionally. “You were the one who had it last, Sir,” she glared at me angrily.

“I am sorry!” I apologized even though I had been told not to do that. I felt like those rules no longer applied after our lovemaking session anyway. I hadn’t made those rules and I felt no particular desire to enforce them. I told her I had no intention of getting her in trouble. “I will just say that we lost it,” I suggested.

“You are mom’s precious new golden boy. She will still blame me for not noticing it fall out and letting you walk off without it! She is going to strip my hide and probably hang me from that!” Stacy pointed to a loft near the top of the barn.

There was a ladder leading up to a platform. On that platform was a long wooden beam with a very sharp edge pointed straight up to the ceiling. There were some pulleys and rope hanging from the rafters. She told me that my Dad once got really angry with her mom over something. She didn’t know what it was, but he hung her out in the barn on that wooden beam. She had to straddle the wooden edge with her bare cunt while her arms were suspended over her head. “My mom was crying bloody murder. It was difficult to handle even for a hard-core pain slut like my mom,” she admitted in awe of the wicked medieval-looking torture contraption hanging from the rafters. It could have easily been something out of the Spanish Inquisition used to expatiate blasphemers!

Pain slut was a term I wasn’t familiar with yet either. I came to understand that some girls get off on the sensual application of pain.

“The way you did when I spanked your butt last night and when I slapped your face today?” I asked.

She grinned when I mentioned giving her a spanking, and I knew I had hit the nail on the head. She touched her face and said, “That hurt like a motherfucker! But yeah, some pain at the right time when all the endorphins are flowing is hot. It isn’t a recipe, though, where if some pain is good, then more pain is better. It is hard to explain,” she said. She looked much less bitter as she shrugged and said she hoped her mother would choose to give her the fun kind of pain when she got home and told her they lost the plug.

“Should I tell them we lost it while we were having sex?” I asked as we left the barn.

“You can tell them whatever you want, Sir. I would like to see them fight over your virginity while I know I already got it,” she mused devilishly.

I liked it a lot when she called me Master. I had no right to consider myself a Master, and I knew that. I am sure my Dad knew so much more than I did about women and bondage, and he was entitled to the title. Yet, when she addressed me as Master, it meant so much to me. I know this was all new to me and yet for some reason the idea of having total control and ownership over her ability to receive punishment or pleasure thrilled me like nothing else I had ever wanted.