Chapter 5: A boyfriend

Six months went by and I became more and more involved in the inlay work and actually started to enjoy what I was doing. Percy came by frequently and without his help I would never have achieved the standard of work that brought recognition from a number of antique dealers and a couple of museum curators. He would sit beside me for hours and patiently explain various techniques and offer advice and stories, so much so that Rocky often referred to him as my father. I would certainly have preferred him to my real father but there was certainly nothing sexual is our relationship. I'm sure he was just a lonely old man and liked having a young girl to teach and pass on his knowledge to.

Life with Rocky had its ups and downs and I'd had three spankings during that time, two were for 'serious' offences where I lost my temper and one for being cheeky and then he gave me a mock spanking that still hurt for most of the day.

Sarah now worked part time for us doing the bookkeeping. She saved me trying to keep up with the paperwork and even Rocky had to admit I wasn't any good at that. He did acknowledge my expertise at cutting the inlays and several times used them on his work and I generated a goodly part of the income for the firm. I received a regular wage now but I had a growing resentment of him being my master and having such control over my affairs. He could, and did, demand sex whenever he wished and I had no option but to comply otherwise it was a spanking and then the sex. It also seemed that he was getting all the kudos for the work I did. The bills went out on the Mansard Joinery headed noted paper or electronically from the web site and no mention was made of me as the maker. To be fair, it was largely his capital that financed the firm although the premises were a grant from a TV company who'd sponsored a programme for ex prisoners. The TV crew visited occasionally to film an update and permission was granted for me to appear in it. This brought a shower of enquiries from people who didn't realise such work was still done.

Another resentment over Rocky's control of me was when I wanted to go out with a boy. He imposed a curfew on the time I had to be home and what nights I could go out, much the same as a strict father might with a young teenager, but with Rocky, I knew failure to conform would get me a spanking, something I tried to avoid. With my father, I would have got away with it but not with Rocky. I think also he was a little jealous of my wanting to go with someone else and when I found out, I did everything I could to fuel his jealousy without endangering my arse. Being on parole didn't prohibit me from forming a relationship with a boy but I had to ask permission before getting time off from my master and I had to wear my orange suit. Jewellery was allowed though, and I wore earrings and a necklace. Up until the time Dan, one of the drivers that brought in supplies, asked me out, Rocky had not shown much interest in me as a person. Yes, he cared for me and looked after me but, as far as I could tell, I was just a body for him to fuck, not someone to love. After I went out with Dan the first time, Rocky started to show more interest in me but I dismissed his overtures with, 'You had your chance for the last six months, now it's someone else's turn.' I didn't tell him that to his face though.

Dan was fun to be with but I knew it was not going to be a lasting relationship but I fostered it as a way of getting back at my master. It didn't work. On our fourth date we ended up on a blanket in a field and I allowed him to fuck me, well if you could call it a fuck. He prick was small and was only in me for a few seconds before he shot his load and withdrew. A very poor substitute for the fucks I had at home. I became angry when he wouldn't even finish me off with his fingers and we had a blazing row. Once more I lost my temper and when I raised my fists, he hit me first and knocked me to the ground and drove off. My situation was quite serious. I was, alone in the field miles from anywhere, well seven miles from home and my shoes were still in his car. Without a comm phone I couldn't get any help and the quiet farm lane had no traffic and no houses, only fields on either side. "Perhaps Rocky will check with Control if I'm late home." Unfortunately he didn't until just before I commed him at the petrol station. I started walking barefoot and an hour later came to a main road but it was another half hour before I hobbled on my bloodied feet into to a country petrol station and could ask them to phone Rocky. At first my orange suit caused them to think I was a prisoner who'd tried to escape but fortunately a customer came in who recognised me and phoned Rocky. By then it was hours after my curfew time and I fully expected to receive the full force of his wrath, but no, he didn't even ask about it until we were home. Probably the state of my dress, my face and my swollen blistered feet, told him something was seriously wrong.

Crying, I told him what happened but instead of my anticipated spanking, he cuddled me. "I ought to give you a hiding for losing your temper and for being late but for once I think you've been punished enough." He bathed my feet and put ointment on and we snuggled close in bed. That night I didn't sleep well, the pain in my feet and face kept me awake and my thoughts kept going over my life and my time as an apprentice. Gradually I came to realise that I wasn't treated all that badly, not as badly as Rocky had been treated as an apprentice or as some women in the stories that Sarah told. In fact I was enjoying life in a way I hadn't for many of the previous years. The punishments I had, I deserved and they were never more than hand spankings, although they hurt badly, he never used a cane or a strap. Perhaps if I showed a little more affection to him instead of just doing things because I had to, would he show more affection for me?