Chapter 4

Looking back now, I can remember only one conscience attempt to defy my new master.

I know it sounds strange. I mean, I'd just been raped. My pussy was sore and full of his cum, my body and mind had both been put through the ringer by a man old enough to be my dad, and for nearly an hour and a half I'd been his captive. He'd let me go and suddenly I was free, but my reaction to such freedom was definitely not normal. Most girls would have felt relieved beyond imagining. Most girls would have gone straight to the police, or to a hospital, or to their parents. Most girls would have done something, and I don't think I've ever met a girl who would have considered obeying the rules and commands her rapist had given her. But me? Well, those rules and commands were all I could think about during the walk home.

He wanted me to stop wearing underwear. Strange, embarrassing, but ultimately not that big a deal, I told myself. I mean, I could keep that a secret if I was careful, so what was the harm? He'd also told me to shave my pussy. Again, I considered this pretty strange, but some of my first thoughts after leaving his store involved which of my brothers' razors I should steal in order to do the deed. Since I had no hairs under my arms yet, and was also too young to have hair on my legs, razorblades weren't part of my usual hygienic repertoire. All of my brothers shaved, though. So while most girls would have been trying to decide between calling the cops or calling mommy and daddy, I remember thinking, "Tyler buys those disposable razors, and his shaving cream is for 'sensitive skin'...". The thought of going back to a hairless mound was both confusing and a little sad for me, it's true, but the thought of not doing it never entered my stupid little head.

Then there was the homework assignment he'd given me. But as much as I hated homework, that was another command I never considered disobeying. The idea of committing to paper all the sexual thoughts and experiences I'd had since I was ten was both daunting and exhilarating.

Obviously I couldn't include anything about the dogs. That was just too far out. But I knew immediately that I would write about everything else: about the fact that it turned me on when my daddy spanked me. That my first kiss had come from a woman. That I enjoyed flashing of my immature boobs to the guys at the Silver Star. I would write about the porn mags I read, how I liked masturbating at school, how I'd used a cucumber to fuck myself for the first time. I knew right away that I would share everything, except for that one thing-- the fact that I'd been fucked by a pack of dogs-- but I didn't really consider that to be defiant. After all, would he really want to know that? I doubted it. Plus, I could see a loophole in his command. He'd told me to write about every person who had fucked me. Dogs weren't people. Realizing this made me smile.

Smile. Yes, I smiled a lot during that walk home. Fucked up, isn't it? And what's even more fucked up were where my tears came from when they finally did occur. Not from the rape, not from the idea that I was to become a slave to a fat, ugly, and brutal master. No, they came from the fact that I wasn't allowed to smoke anymore. Yes, that was bothering me most of all. That and the idea that I couldn't cum again until time I was with him, that is.

Nicotine and orgasms were all that gave my rapidly surrendering sense of self pause. From the pain between my legs to my horny and confused brain you would think I'd have had bigger concerns. But during the walk home that cool Autumn day those two things were the only reasons I considered defying the video store owner. No orgasms. And no nicotine? I really, really didn't want to obey either of those commands. And so it was that they were all that stood between me remaining an individual, and me turning into a pathetic little slave.

I got close several times to breaking those new rules. Several times I considered masturbating the second I got home, and several times I put unlit cigarettes to my lips. But none of those cigarettes were ever lit. When I finally did get home I went straight to the kitchen to get dinner ready for my dad and brothers, never touching myself intimately, even when I changed clothes upstairs in the privacy of my bedroom. I couldn't, you see. It's hard to explain but, well, for some reason I just felt obligated to follow the rules the video store owner had laid down. And so I did.

After serving dinner, and saying grace, my brother Tyler made a comment about it being "cold" in the kitchen. My other brothers snickered at that. My dad, oblivious as always to such things, remained silent. But I knew Tyler was making fun of me when I realized my nipples were as hard as diamonds and poking straight through the yellow t-shirt I'd changed into. My face turned beet-red as I tried to pretend I didn't get his little joke.

The rest of dinner was excruciating. Though I never looked up to confirm it I could feel my brothers' eyes locked onto my boobs. Ever since my body had begun to develop I'd noticed them checking me out from time to time, of course, but this was different. I was different. I'd actually been fucked, for real this time, and they were making fun of my hard nipples and obviously checking out my tits. Could they sense somehow that I was no longer a stranger to human cock? Did they want to fuck me, now, too? These thoughts swirled around my head as I picked at my meal, waiting desperately for the moment I could ask to be excused. With each passing second I cursed myself for not wearing a bra, cursed myself for not just staying in my school uniform, and doubly cursed myself for the fact that my naked pussy beneath my pants was actually growing wetter by the moment. What would my new master think about this when I wrote it into the assignment he'd given me? Because I would have to. Because I was getting hot from the idea that my brothers might see me as a sexual object. God save me.

Eventually, blessedly, dinner came to an end. I did the dishes quickly and then went back to my bedroom hornier than ever. I undressed. I laid down on my bed. I didn't want to, God I didn't want to, but I found my fingers drifting down between my legs more than once as I thought of Tyler, Jason, and Ron. Noticing my nipples. My own brothers, brazenly ogling my tits! God, they had looked at me like I was some kind of cheap slut. Suddenly I wished I'd looked up from my meal to see their expressions. My heart hammered in my chest as I struggled to control my intense horniness.

Remembering my master helped me regain control, but not before I did touch myself there and sigh at the feeling of my velvety pussy. But just like the unlit cigarettes to my lips earlier, my fingers refused to ignite a spark between my legs. My master had told me not to cum. It amazes me, even now, to recall how completely subservient I was. Even during that completely electrified moment I couldn't disobey him.

Eventually I took a shower, a cold one. I used one of Tyler's razors to shave away the pubic hair I'd recently been so proud of. It was so weird to see my pussy completely bald for the first time in months. I felt like a little girl again, a little girl with breasts and horny thoughts and an insatiable desire to please anyone in authority. After staring at my smooth, pink, and hairless pussy for several minutes I returned to my bedroom. I changed into my pajamas. Then I turned on my stereo and got to work on the homework assignment my new master had given me.

I worked on it for nearly two hours. When I was nearly done it was almost bedtime, and to my surprise my dad came to see me. As always he didn't knock at the door before barging in. Thankfully I was sitting at my desk, writing in a notebook, and he had no idea what I was writing about. When he cleared his throat to get my attention I turned to him and smiled as innocently as I could. In truth my thoughts were anything but innocent, though. Writing about every sexual thought and activity I'd ever had or done had gotten me completely worked up again. I was wearing my pink flannel pajamas, without panties of course, and I was terrified that he might want me to stand up for some reason. If I did he'd definitely see the dampness between my legs. How would I explain that?

There was no need to stand up. He walked over to my desk, asked me how the homework was going, and then gave me a kiss on the top of my head. It was an uncharacteristic display of paternal love, and it sort of made me paranoid. I stammered, "Uhm, it's fine, I'm almost all done." And then he surprised me yet again.

"Your brothers told me you were later than normal getting home," he said in his gruff voice. "Made me realize you're gettin' to about that age where you're gonna wanna be spending more and more time with friends and such after school. I was thinking I ought to have a way to get a hold of you while you're out and about... doing whatever it is girls do nowadays. So here."

He placed a cell phone on the desk in front of me. My eyes widened at the sight of it. It was an older model but still: a cell phone! I was probably the only girl in middle school without one but my dad had always said there was no reason a child like me needed her own mobile phone. What had changed? The question made me paranoid all over again. Maybe it was true that getting fucked by a man ended a girl's childhood; maybe men had a way of knowing when a girl had been deflowered. But if he really did know that I was technically a woman now would he really be giving me presents? That didn't make sense either.

"It'll be activated tomorrow," he said, his voice still gruff. He sounded a little uncomfortable, too, but there was no way he was finding this moment more awkward than I was.

"Jason upgraded to a newer one last week. I already removed all his phone numbers and such. I left my number in there, though.

"Now, this don't mean you don't still have responsibilities around here," he concluded, his voice tough and authoritative once again. "It ain't no free pass to stay out with friends to all hours and whatnot. But, well. I suppose if once in a while you need to stay out later, the boys and I can cook up some microwave dinners. Now that you have a phone, you ain't got no excuse for not letting me know ahead of time. Ya hear?"

"Y-yes," I said. His words stunned me even more than the gift of the cell phone had. Ever since I was old enough to crack an egg or boil water I'd been expected to cook for the family. Now he was giving me permission, in his strange and angry way, to skirt that responsibility from time to time. Had the world completely changed the moment the video store owner had shot his load into my cunt?

He left after that without another word. For the rest of the night I anguished over what had happened. Why had he given me a phone? Why had he said it was okay to not cook dinner once in a while? That was totally unlike him. Ultimately I decided that he must have just realized I was a good girl who deserved such privileges. That's what I wanted to believe. My more paranoid mind kept wondering if he somehow knew I had been fucked that day, but even back then I knew those thoughts were absurd. Looking back now, though, I actually do know the truth.

During dinner that night my brothers had subtly made fun of me for having tits. And for having nipples on top of them that were hard, and poking out into my shirt. My dad had pretended not to notice, but looking back I'm certain his eyes locked onto them as much, if not more, than my brothers' had. That was probably the first time my daddy actually realized I had boobs. It wouldn't be the last. But that day, that evening, he'd been so uncomfortable with the realization that his little girl had breasts that he'd decided to be nice to me. But it wasn't for my benefit. No, it was for his. He felt guilty for ogling his 13-year-old daughter so he'd given me a cell phone and permission not to cook every day to alleviate his guilt. I went to sleep that night thinking that my dad had been generous when in truth his motives had been born of pure selfishness.

The next day I was so horny I nearly came during my morning pee. I didn't, though, but probably would have if one of my brothers hadn't been pounding on the bathroom door demanding that I hurry up.

I hadn't been able to go to the dogs. Nor had I been able to finger myself. Trying to obey my master's command not to cum until next I saw him was brutal to my young, horny pussy, though. It was begging for attention, screaming to be touched!

And things only got worse at school. I wasn't wearing any panties and my heart raced every time I sat down, stood up, or walked quickly to beat the bell before my next class. If any of my classmates got so much as a peak up my skirt and saw my bald, naked cunt, I'd be the laughing stock of the school. Jody would have a field day with such knowledge and I had no doubt she'd use it to spread all sorts of other rumors about me. My only protection against the girl's viciousness lately had been the fact that I was relatively boring. But if she found out I wasn't wearing underwear, and that my cunt was bald? She'd have an absolute field day!

During third hour, History class, I sat in the front row as always and I almost couldn't contain myself. My fear of social ridicule was nearly matched by my wanton horniness by then, and my teacher was a young woman named Sister Jessica who happened to be the only teacher at St. Mary's who was actually attractive. As she lectured us about the battle of Gettysburg I kept wanting to spread my legs, wondering if she would notice my bald pussy if I did. But I kept my thighs together, despite my rampant desire to do something naughty and perverse. What I really wanted was a simple cum, but I knew I had to wait until I saw my master again. There would be no bathroom masturbation sessions for me today, just like there hadn't been a session with the dogs the night before. I had to wait. I had to hold out!

It wasn't easy to make it through the day both scared of my own shadow and horny as a porn-queen, but somehow I did. School ended and I got on the bus, so wet and breathless I could barely understand it. I practically ran to the video store once the bus dropped me off. I was so horny that that all my thoughts were in a jumble and the only thing I was sure about was the fact that at the video store I would finally get the release I so desperately needed.

When I got there my heart sunk. Because it was gone. Blue Moon Video was no more.

It had burnt down. As I rounded the corner from the bus stop I could see the charred remains of the building.

My jaw dropped as I got closer. None of the other stores in the strip mall had been affected but Blue Moon was definitely gone. I could smell sulphur and soaked wood as I stumbled into the parking lot. There were no fire trucks or anything around. It must have happened the night before. I kept walking until I was almost at the front door, or at least where the front door used to be. When I got there, and saw the blackened ruin inside, I started to cry.

How could this have happened? I wept piteously as the frantic, paranoid thought entered my head that the owner had gone down with his store. Was my master dead? Just like that? It made me so sad that I almost threw up.

Suddenly a vehicle started honking behind me. When I turned to look it was a big white van. It was parked near the back of the lot, and through its dashboard window I could see him.

He was gesturing for me to come over. In a daze, I did.

"Your store... it, it... ," I said to him with disbelief.

"Yeah. It's a, ahh, real shame."

I sniffed away the lingering tears and nodded. He told me to get inside, so I opened up the passenger door and stepped up into the van. After taking my seat I dropped my backpack to the floor and just stared at it for a moment. I was so confused! Why was his store gone? How had it burnt down? And why had I gotten into his van without asking either question first? Who knew where he was going to bring me.

"Fires happen all the time," he said as he started the engine. "Last night my, ahh, little business became a statistic. I'm fine with it, though. Sort of relieved, if I'm being honest. The insurance will, ahh, more than make up for lost business."

I gulped and nodded my head. Reaching over my shoulder out of instinct, I grabbed my seat belt and began pulling it across my small body. He told me not to.

"I'm a safe driver, little one, and we don't got far to go," he explained. "I'm going to, ahh, bring you over to my house. Not far from where you live. We'll have a lot of fun over there, you'll see. Now pull up your skirt."

He had just turned out of the parking lot when he said that. I looked up at him in alarm, but his eyes were on the road. When I didn't move for a moment he did look over at me, though, and there was anger in his eyes.

"Well? Go on now, slut. I want to see if you did as you were told last night."

There was no reason to defy him now, I decided. Slowly, and with my eyes darting around to make sure there were no big trucks or anything next to us, I pulled my skirt up. When my bald pussy came into view he chuckled and told me to turn toward him.

I did. He glanced down at my cunt, and grinned.

"You look excited to, ahh, see me," he said. "You been excited all day? Excited to see your, ahh, master? I saw you crying when you saw the store was burnt away. Were you crying because you thought you'd never see my cock again?"

I knew he wanted an answer, and I saw no reason to lie. "Yes, s-sir," I said softly. I was still holding my skirt back and his eyes kept darting over to it as he drove. My slender legs were only spread a few inches apart but he was definitely getting an eyeful. Yet he made no move to reach over and touch it. That's what I wanted him to do. Reach over and touch me, reach over and finger me. One little touch would be more than enough to send me into orgasmic bliss. But he kept both of his meaty hands on the steering wheel as he chuckled.

"Small part of me wondered if you'd show up today. But I knew, I knew, you were the real deal. Bet you did your homework too, eh?"

"Yes, sir," I whispered.

"Get it out," he commanded. "Read it to me."

I let my skirt drop back down between my spread legs as I fumbled around inside my back pack. When I found the notebook I pulled it out, then held it tentatively for a moment or two. Finally I opened it and began to read.

"The f-first time I ever had an orgasm, I was ten," I read softly.

"Use one hand to lift your, ahh, skirt again," he scolded me. "And scoot your butt forward. That's a good girl. Now, ahh, keep reading."

I was leaning back against the passenger side door, now, and holding my skirt up with my left hand. With the notebook clutched firmly in my right hand I continued to read.

"I was taking a shower," I said. "Lately I'd been rubbing my pussy a lot more than usual when I did that, but had never actually made myself cum. I didn't even know what an orgasm was. My dad has always hated talking to me about normal stuff, and he's never talked to me about sex stuff. When I had my first period he made me start shopping for the family and I was only ten! I remember going to him in tears because I was bleeding between my legs and all he did was get mad at me. He told me that if I was 'bleeding' now I was old enough to do the grocery shopping. The only thing he did do was tell me which products I should buy in order to deal with it. Because he was too embarrassed to buy tampons for his daughter.

"Anyway," I continued to read after turning a page, "that first orgasm was amazing. Not as good as some I've had since but definitely memorable. It was a surprise. Rubbing myself down there had felt good but I'd never had that explosion before. So I was hooked. I did it every day. But all I ever did was rub. I didn't ever finger myself because that seemed wrong. Eventually I found out that the rubbing was called 'masturbating'. And in the 7th grade I found out at school that masturbating is a sin so I tried to stop."

"We're here," he said.

I looked up from the notebook and realized we'd pulled into a small neighborhood I easily recognized. Every house in the subdivision looked identical: white siding, gray shutters, small front yards. He was pulling his van into a driveway, and the garage door was already open. I'd gone to a birthday party before in one of these houses, and knew that they were very small inside. After parking the van he killed the engine and I heard the groan of the garage door closing behind us. The video store owner turned to face me.

"When we get inside we're going straight down to the basement," he explained. "My, ahh, ex-wife will be stopping by any minute now to drop off my son. I have him for the weekend but I'm going to, ahh, give him $20 and send him over to a friend's house. Once he's gone the fun can begin. Understand?"

"Oh," I replied. The revelation that this man had a son came as a surprise, but I snapped out of it quick enough to say, "I mean, yes, sir. Uhm, wh-what time do you think I'll be able to go home?"

"That'll be partly up to you, and how well you behave today," he said. "Are you worried about a, ahh, curfew?"

I nodded. "I uhm... normally I have to be home by five, to make d-dinner. Fridays are pizza night, so I can stay out later, b-but if I'm not home by nine..."

He opened his door and started getting out. "It's a ten minute walk from here to your, ahh, house. Behave yourself today and you'll be able to leave by, ahh, 8:50pm, no problem."

After his door slammed shut I, too, got out of the van. When I entered his house behind him from a door inside the garage I was led through yet another door, one that he had to unlock, and down a flight of stairs.

The basement was fully finished, and actually pretty nice. It had plush manila carpeting, beige colored walls decorated with tasteful paintings, and a very impressive entertainment system. There were large speakers set up along with remote speakers for surround sound, black glass-doored cabinets which contained about a billion DVDs, and a very nice (and expensive looking) full length leather sofa. It was a very large room, but I didn't get a chance to examine the rest of it because he brought me straight to the couch. After he told me to sit down I realized something strange, though: there was no TV! Between the matching cabinets and speakers was just a blank, all white space where it looked like a TV should go.

I puzzled this as I took my seat in the center of the large sofa and he walked toward another area of the room, talking as he went. "My son will get here any, ahh, second now so I have to make this quick," he said. "As soon as he gets here I'll have to take care of him, and might have to give him a ride over to his, ahh, friend's place. While I'm gone you're going to be watching a special DVD I made just for you. It's just over an hour long and, ahh, I think you'll really enjoy it.

"And you'd better," he said after returning to the couch. He had brought with him a cardboard box and was smiling down at me as I fretted anxiously with my long blond hair. "At least, you'd best pay attention to it. Because there will be a test afterward.

"Five questions," he said as he sat his heavy frame next to me. The box was at his feet and he rummaged around in it before pulling out a pair of handcuffs. "Put your hands behind your back."

"What?" I asked, startled by the sight of the handcuffs. "Wh-why?"

He slapped me across the face. "You don't get to ask that," he said with a voice full of menace. "Not ever. Now put your fucking hands behind your, ahh, back."

I did. He grabbed me roughly behind my neck, then, and forced me to bend forward. Then he secured the cuffs, first to my left wrist, then to my right. They were tight, and the cold steel bit sharply into my skin. My heart raced in fear as I wondered what would happen next.

"Now," he said. "To answer the question you, ahh, weren't allowed to ask, the reason for these cuffs is simple. I don't want you losing control as you watch this DVD. I can't trust a slut like you to resist touching her cunt. And I don't want you to, ahh, cum, not until my cock is deep inside your twat again. Understand?"

"Yes, y-yes," I said, blinking away some tears. "Sir, I mean. Yes, sir. I, uhm, understand!"

"Back to the test," he said. He was talking quickly now, obviously trying to explain everything before his son got there. "By the time the movie is, ahh, done, I'll be back here and we'll be alone. And I'm going to ask you five questions about the various, ahh, clips I put together for this DVD. If you pay careful attention to it, you should have no problem getting all of them right. But if you don't pay attention, and get any of my questions wrong, you will be punished.

"The severity of your, ahh, punishment will depend on how many questions you don't answer correctly. If you only get one wrong, you will be spanked ten times by my bare hand. Not too bad, I know. You seemed to enjoy that yesterday. But the more you get, ahh, wrong, the worse the punishments get," he said. Then he reached down into the box and pulled out a hairbrush. It was made of wood and was a bit larger than the kind I used to brush my own hair, but he seemed pleased with it as he held it up for my inspection. "You get two wrong, and I, ahh, will use this to spank you 20 times."

He was smiling broadly now as he let me examine the brush. I gulped in fear at the thought of that hard wooden thing smashing into my cute little butt. Then he reached back down into the box and pulled out a ping pong paddle. Its handle was beige in color but the large circular hitting surface was blue, and their was a small hole carved into it directly in its center meant to lessen wind resistance.

My eyes widened at the sight of it. I knew what he was going to say it was for, but the idea of being hit by that thing was horrifying. Each blow to my butt would land on almost every part of it! I gulped again when all he did was grin at the expression on my face, put the paddle away, and say, "Thirty with that one. And that's, ahh, nothing compared to what will happen if you get four wrong.

"If you do, you'll be spanked 40 times. And I'll, ahh, be using this to do it."

The object he held up for my inspection now was unknown to me. It was all black. Its handle was long, maybe 10 inches, and thin. But from the top of that handle were even longer strips of leather. Nine long strips of leather, each ending in hard little balls made of God knows what. He made a swatting motion with it into the air. The way those lengths of dyed cow-skin cracked into the air frightened me even more than the paddle had. They looked ruthless, and seemed certainly capable of ruining my pride and joy: my cute, pubescent ass.

"On the off chance you get all five questions wrong," he said, "you will be punished with whatever tool I just, ahh, showed you, depending on my mood."

Suddenly a ringing sound filled the air as he continued to dangle the cat o' nine tails in front of my face. At first I thought it was my cell phone ringing. But then he stood up and sighed.

"That's her," he said after pulling a cell phone from his pocket. "She's here with my son. I didn't get a chance to tell you what will, ahh, happen if I find your homework unsatisfactory. But trust me, it will be like a hundred blows from this." He waved the cat o' nine tails in front of my face a final time, then tossed it back down into the cardboard box.

"One last thing. Stand up," he commanded. I complied but I had to struggle a little to get to my feet, what with my wrists still handcuffed behind my back. When I was standing he roughly turned me around and then unzipped my skirt. He pulled it down my legs, gave one gentle slap to my firm young butt, then told me to sit again. He smiled at the sight of my half naked body and then said, "Enjoy the, ahh, movie." Then he grabbed the notebook I'd used to do my homework in and walked away.

My heart was still pounding. I mean, how was I going to have a chance to get his test questions right when it was obvious I wouldn't be able to watch the DVD he'd just told me to study? He didn't have a TV! He had an awesome entertainment system, minus the television. Was this some cruel joke? With my hands cuffed behind my back, I turned and watched him go. Pure desperation was on my face. I struggled to think of a good way to ask him how I could watch this DVD he'd made for me.

Just before he disappeared up the stairway he provided the answer. Because when he flicked off the lights to the room the speakers came to life. And that white space between the cabinets and speakers suddenly filled up with a dull black glow. Up and behind me, I suddenly realized, was a projector. Just like at the movie theaters.

And it was good quality. When the first clip started I forgot all about my tears and waited with baited breath for it to begin.

The large, blank space was suddenly filled with the image of two young girls, one about my age and one even younger, kissing each other on a big pink bed. I was in awe. Both of the girls were extremely cute and one of them was already topless. The younger one, who had pig-tails, was wearing a tight tee shirt. The older girl pulled it off of her after they'd been kissing for about a minute, and before long both were naked. The clip had no sound and was definitely amateur quality but even so I was fully loving it. That clip ended after the older girl with the bigger boobs began to go down on the smaller, younger one. That was disappointing but the next clip was even better.