Her Father, My Master: Enthralled (10 page)

And who was Molly?

I couldn't help but feel a twinge
of confusion and envy.  Was she a girlfriend?  A lover?  A real girlfriend, not
a stupid teenaged sex slave?  I bit my lip as I stuffed my face into a pillow. 
What an idiot I was.  I was nothing to him.

I didn't know how long I laid
there, but eventually I heard the pounding of footsteps on the stairs.  I
strained my ears, trying to decipher whether the pounding was angry, or sad, or
something else, but I was left in the dark.  I could only assume that my master
was still angry with me, and was going to punish me.  Really punish me, too,
not the sex play that we usually engaged in.  No erotic spanking, no being tied
up and whipped.  He would probably kick me out of the house.

I froze.  What if he did?  I would
have nowhere to go.  Nowhere at all.

The knob turned, and I stared at
the door like a prisoner awaiting a sentence.

My master entered.

Silently, he walked over and sat on
the bed, with me staring mutely at him the enter time.  He sighed heavily. 
“I'm sorry, Krystal,” he said.  I swallowed.  I wasn't expecting this, and he
was using my name to boot, not calling me 'pet' or 'girl'.  What did that
mean?  Was he going to release me from my contract?

“I did not mean to lose my temper
like that.  I should have warned you about that scotch.  I should have known
that you would find it eventually.”

“But I shouldn't have drank it.  I
should have asked,” I admitted.  I felt very much in the wrong at the moment,
so I was confused as to why he was the one apologizing.

“You're right, you shouldn't have,”
he turned his head to me now, and his eyes glittered darkly.  I shrank back; he
was clearly still very angry with me.  “But what's done is done.  Two years,
gone.”

I had no idea what he meant by
that, but he seemed to calm down a bit.  “Who is Molly?” I asked, feeling a
little braver.

“Molly.”  He said that word in
reverence, like he was speaking about an angel.  “My first wife.”

“Oh.  Maddie's mom?” I asked.

“No, before her.”  He shifted on
the bed.  “We married right out of high school, right before I was deployed to
Kuwait.  She was the best woman I ever could have wished for.  She was good,
and faithful, even when I wasn't.  I wish...” he trailed off, and I noticed his
knuckles were white, they gripped the sheets so hard.

“What happened to her?” I asked,
prompting him to go on.  I was suddenly placed in the situation where I could
actually learn more about my master, as a man, and I craved that knowledge.  I
knew so little about him.  I knew he was a Marine.  I knew he was a scout
sniper.  I knew he took part in Desert Storm.  I knew he still worked in the
military in some capacity.  But that was the extant that I knew about his
past.  He just never talked about it very much.

“She was killed.  By a drunk
driver, on her way home from work, on evening.  It was my fault.”

I was perplexed.  Unless he was the
one who was doing the drunk driving, how could it be his fault?  “I don't see
how you could have done that,” I said.

“Oh, but I did.  If I had sent her
money, if I hadn't spent it all on booze and whores, she wouldn't have had to
get a job.  I as good as killed her.”  His eyes were glittering again, but this
time with sadness and grief, and more than a little regret.  I wasn't sure what
to do.  I reached out a hand, placing it over his own tensed, balled up fist.

“I'm sorry.”

That broke the spell.  He stood
suddenly, brushing my hand away.  “It doesn't matter now.  What happened,
happened.  What matters now is the present, and the future.”

“What about my future?”  I had to
ask the question.  I had to know what he had planned for me.

“What about it?”  My master turned
and looked down on me now, his face clear of any emotion.  “You will stay here,
and do as I say.  And you will never drink any of that scotch again.  And you
will not drink, period.  I don't allow alcohol in this house.”

A small, childish part of me wanted
to argue about the scotch being alcohol, but I was already slipping back into
my role of slave.  “Yes, sir,” I said quietly without argument.

“You're underage, anyways,” he
grunted as he made for the door.

“Yes, master.”

“And I think I'm going to need to
punish you for this, before you leave for break.  I think it's time to use that
bondage collar again.”

My eyes grew wide at that
implication.  We'd only used the bondage collar once before, and it'd almost
been too much for me.  To have another round with that thing... my body
shuddered involuntarily.

“Yes, master.”

I knew I would do it.  I was his
willing slave, after all.

*****

The next day, I spent the entire
day chained the wall, with that egg inside me.  Though I couldn't be sure, I
was fairly certain my master went to his work like normal, because I didn't see
him all day.  The only evidence of his presence came when the egg would turn
on, at completely random intervals.  It was torture.  Pleasurable, erotic
torture.  Just as I had before, I was worked into a frenzy, desperate and
writhing against my bonds, desperate to come.  Desperate to have my master
inside me.

I loved the control, too.  The way
he controlled me.  The way he denied me the thing I most desired, and the way I
let him do that.  I had an out, and I refused to use it.  That button on the
wall would stay un-pressed for the entire day.

It was dark when he finally entered
my room.  He was on me quickly, ramping my body up even further, and this time
he didn't give me any sort of release at the end.  At the end, he only took his
pleasure from me, and left me to hang on those ropes.

And he demanded silence from me
again as he fucked me, as his thick cock slid in and out of me, right on those
ropes and chains.  He was relentless in the denial of my pleasure, and I knew
this was my true punishment.

When he finally finished with me,
when he untied me and threw me down on the bed, he commanded only one thing
from me.  “Don't come,” he growled as he left the room.

I wriggled on the bed, my body
flowing with pins and needles, the fire and ice of an unmet need.  My entire
being throbbed, and that need centered pulsing around my aching clit, and my
abused cunt.  Even though  my master was gone, I remained silent.  I bit my
tongue to keep from moaning.  I had to obey him, above all else.  I had to be a
good slave.

Somehow, against all odds, I
managed to control myself, to keep myself from snaking a hand between my thighs
and explosively finishing myself.  I hovered there, on the exquisitely painful
brink of a climax for what felt like hours.  I needed to come.  I had to come. 
But I wouldn't come, not until my master said I would.

I lifted my head, feeling hazy and
not quite there when he entered the room again.

“Come,” he said, and I blinked in
confusion for a moment.  Did he want me to come... or
come
?

“Come here,” he clarified, and I
stood.  My legs were shaky – I'd spent so long in those bonds that I could
barely stand.  When I was close enough, he grabbed my arm and dragged me out of
the room.  And into his.

It was there that he bent me over
his knee, spanking my naked ass until fire pooled in my veins and shot straight
into my brain.  I craved this punishment – I was such a bad girl, and I needed
to be disciplined in the harshest way possible.

I finally couldn't help myself any
longer.  I moaned and writhed underneath his authoritative hand, knowing each
moan would only add to the spankings.  I began to see sparks in my vision, each
time his hand slammed down.  I squirmed in his lap, my cunt engorged and
drenched, begging for and craving that release, that sweet release.  I could
only hope that he would have mercy on me, and let me climax soon.

When he finished with me, he
flipped me over on his bed and fucked me again.  Hard.  He didn't have a care
for my well-being, he only used me roughly and harshly, and when he finished,
he pulled out without ceremony, and left me to stew while he took a shower.

He hadn't said I could come, so I
didn't.  I panted and gasped on his bed as I heard the water run.

He stepped out of the shower and
finally,
finally
, gave the command that I'd been craving for so long. 
“Come.”

This time, I knew exactly what his
meant.  He watched as I desperately plunged my hands between my legs, parting
those slick folds and furiously rubbing my aching button of a clit.  It was
such a primal, animalistic urge, and I was finally allowed to succumb to it.  I
was allowed to come.

And I did, quickly and forcefully. 
My legs jerked as waves of euphoria rushed through my body, filling me with
tingling warmth and then hotness.  My head tilted back, and my flushed lips
parted as I let out a long, low moan.  How did he do this to me?  It seemed
like each orgasm was better than the last.  My master knew exactly how to
handle me.

As my climax finally rode itself
out, I sprawled on the bed, utterly satisfied.

But I didn't have long to bask in
the glow of my orgasm, for my master was already ordering me to clean myself
up, and get back to my room.  I obeyed him.  As I always did.

It was the sexiest day I'd had in a
long time, and the sexiest day I knew I would have for a long time, as well.

Christmas break was coming up,
fast.

Chapter
8

I dreaded this, possibly more than
anything in my life, but I had to go home for Christmas break.  My only saving
grace was knowing that I would have to put up with my entire dysfunctional
family for only a few days.  Most of the time it would only be me and my
parents.

But it didn't occur to me that
without Kandace around to draw the spotlight, I would have all attention
focused on me.

I pulled up to my parents house,
grabbed my bag and laptop, and headed quickly inside.  It was starting to get
cold out, and the trees were bare.  They've been absolutely bare for weeks
now.  Even so, I felt a different kind of craving rise up in me.  An older kind
of craving.

At my master's house, I wasn't
allowed out.  I had to stay inside at all times; those were his orders.  I
found myself now missing the crisp bite of the fall air, and I missed my feet
pounding a tempo into the pavement as I ran.  I missing running.  I missed
exercising.

I wasn't precisely getting fat, but
I was getting soft.  All the muscles I'd formed from my cheerleading activities
were melting away.  I could feel those muscles getting replaced with that
softer fat, and I regretted it.  Maybe I could ask my master for some way to
exercise.  That would be ideal.

For now though, I stepped inside my
parents' house.  It was warm inside, and inviting, with the faint scent of pine
in the air.  The tree was already up, but not decorated yet.  I was sure my mom
would want to fix this soon, now that I was home.  I wondered if she would wait
for Kandace to arrive as well.

“Krystal!” my mom shouted excitedly
as she descended the stairs, the railings of which were now wrapped in thick
garlands of fresh pine, and adorned with bows.  “How are you sweetie?  How are
classes?”

“Fine, and fine,” I replied
shortly.  I was already feeling nervous.  All attention would be focused on me,
and I was glad Mr. Hendricks had drilled me so thoroughly on my fake college
life.

“How are those girls from your
sorority?  I forgot their names... Tammy?  Tamara?  Something like that.”

“Tiffany, Allison, and Brianna,” I
replied robotically.  “They're all fine, too.”

“Good, good, wonderful.  How are
your grades?”

“I got straight As.”

“Really?”  My mom looked at me
incredulously for the span of a few moments, and I knew why.  I was never a
straight A student before, but my master had done well with me in that department. 
I was a model scholar now.  “That's surprising!” she said brightly.

I felt a slight sting at the
comment, but I forced myself to tamp that feeling down.  I couldn't afford to
have her asking more questions.  I couldn't afford to get angry at her, and let
something slip.  Even though I desperately wanted to point out that I've been
doing better since I left the house, and her influence.

“Thanks mom,” I instead said
through gritted teeth, and pushed past her to get to my room.

Flicker was there, sitting on my
bed and staring at me with wide cat eyes.  He was practically the only thing I
was looking forward to this entire vacation.

“Miss me?” I asked the little
beast, and he yowled loudly.  I grinned and pet him.  “Of course you did.”

I spent the next few hours hiding
out in my room, but I couldn't stay there forever.  My mom was calling me
downstairs around six.  Probably to eat dinner.

I trundled down the steps, my
stomach rumbling.  I couldn't avoid dinner, and I had a feeling that this was
when the real interrogation would begin.

My mom and dad both sat at the
table, plates of food steaming in front of them.  It wasn't anything too fancy
– just chicken and asparagus.  Apparently my mom was on another health kick
again.  I didn't much care.  I needed to be watching my weight more closely,
anyways.  Especially around this dangerous time of year.

“So,” my dad said as I sat down in
front of my own food, “tell us about your courses.”

The way he said it, and the way he
looked at me, made me nervous.  “Well, I took Intro to Biology this semester. 
It was interesting.  Kind of a repeat from high school, though.”  I smiled
nervously, and my dad returned my smile.  I hoped that I wasn't acting too
antsy.

They continued along this vein,
asking me about my courses, what I've learned, and then moved on to my
sorority, my sisters there, and what I did.  My mom sounded suspiciously
nonchalant during this part of the conversation.