Her Father, My Master: Enthralled (16 page)

“Krystal,” he finally said after
many long moments, setting his book down on the desk.  It was thick and wrapped
in leather, and looked like a dry and complicated read.

“Yes, master,” I replied.  He
didn't respond.  He only looked at me, until I felt a nervous sheen of sweat
clam up my skin.  I didn't understand what he wanted me to do.  “Yes, master?”
I repeated more questioningly.

“Hmm.  I'm not sure where to
proceed with our arrangement.  You violated one of my more strict rules.”

My eyes widened.  I hadn't realized
that my transgression was so severe.  “Please, sir, give me another chance,” I
begged as I immediately fell to my knees.  They banged against the wooden floor
painfully, but I didn't care.  I just didn't want him to expel me from his
house, from this relationship.  I wanted to stay with him forever.

He didn't speak for many long
moments, and I could feel tears begin to well in my eyes.  I knew that was what
he was going to do.  He was going to kick me out, and I would have nothing.

“One more chance,” he said simply,
and I breathed a monstrous sigh of relief.  “Slip up with that rule again, and
I will release you.”

“Yes, sir.  I understand.”  He
couldn't have made it more crystal clear.

“I think you deserve to be punished
more soundly, for this.”

My breath caught in my throat. 
What sort of punishment, I wondered.  “Yes, sir,” I said, not daring to ask.  I
would find out in due time.

“Go upstairs,” he ordered, and I
obeyed.

I felt my nervousness wash away and
quickly be replaced by lust and excitement.  I was safe, back in my master's
home, back in his possession.  This was where I belonged.  This was where I
needed to be.

I quickly made my way back to my
room, not waiting for my master, and not even checking to see if he was
following me.  I knew he would do what he wanted, when he wanted.  I may have
to wait for him for minutes,  or I might have to wait for hours.  And I would
happily wait for as long as he desired.  For as long as he thought I deserved
to wait.

And he did make me wait, but not for
as long as I thought he would.  Many long minutes passed by as I lay patiently
on the bed for my next command, but finally, he arrived.

“Turn over,” he commanded as soon
as he entered the room, and I did so eagerly.

I felt hot hands on my neck as he
slipped the leather collar over the metal one.  “Your punishment,” he murmured
into my ear before standing up again.  “I want to hear you scream.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, and those were
my last words for quite some time.

Quickly, before I even had the
chance to brace my mind or my body, I felt the whip crashing down on my skin. 
Pain lanced up my spine as those white hot threads bore down on my body.  I
felt like the whip was going to tear me apart.

“This, my pet, is the cat o' nine
tails,” he said in an instructive tone between lashings.  “I'm sure you can
guess why it's called that.”

Tears streamed down my cheeks as
pain filled my body and my brain, and he brought the whip down again.  I
started to bite back that scream that wanted to escape, but at the last second,
I remembered that he
wanted
to hear me scream.  I let out a long, low
whimper instead.

“Do you understand what you did
wrong?” he asked me now.

“Yes, sir,” I said with gritted
teeth.  Even as the fire of the beating spread through my body, so did the thrill
of knowing it was my master doing it to me.  He was the one giving me this
pain, this pleasure, and I loved it.  I sucked up every last drop of it into my
being, and it only fueled me further.

There were no more words after
that, only the whistle of the whip through the air, the slap of the thin cotton
cords on my young, abused flesh.  Each time he bore down I felt a thrill rush
and race through my body.  It was painful, but it felt so good.  And knowing it
was Mr. Hendricks doing this to me only made it feel all the better.

I don't even know how many times he
hit me, how many lashes I received, but when he was finished, lines of fire criss-crossed
my ass, legs, and back.  I tingled all over, and whenever he touched one of
those lines, they screamed anew again.  I was in a lustful haze.  I begged to
be fucked and abused in other ways, now.

And my master saw that, he saw it
in my eyes when he flipped me over and pressed his body down on top of mine. 
He conquered me, he pinned my arms against the mattress as he took exactly what
he wanted from me, and I screamed and bucked and bit and tried to stop him but
it was useless.  He was my master, and he would have what he wanted.

I finally succumbed to his power,
and he entered me and thrust against me, his cock sliding slickly in and out of
my wet cunt, and he pressed his body down against me, crushing the air from my
lungs.  He was relentless, and I grew dizzy from the lack of oxygen.  I needed
to breathe, but I needed my master more.

Finally, he finished inside me, and
collapsed on top of me, panting and groaning from the sheer pleasure of it
all.  His body continued to press down against me, and I squirmed underneath
him.  I wished I could just melt into his body, and become one with him.  I
wanted to be as close as possible to him.

After a few moments though, he
hauled himself upright, and pulled out of me.  I wanted to moan and beg him to
put his cock back inside me, but I knew it was a futile request.  I was his
slave after all.  He told me what to do, not the other way around.

“Clean yourself up,” he simply
stated, and left the room, like he always did.

On the surface, I was happy.  It
seemed like things were back to normal.  This play session was one of the most
intense ones we'd had in weeks.  But underneath that surface, I boiled with
worries and thoughts.  Were things really back to normal?  Was I off the hook
for my terrible behavior?  Would Molly interfere with our relationship again?

Only time would tell.

Chapter
13

May came, all too quickly, and all
too slowly at the same time.  I wanted to be here, and yet I didn't.  It was
the strangest feeling.  I supposed I was aching for what the two of us had,
before my treacherous misstep, but it was in the past.  What was done, was
done.

For now, I finished out my courses
with flying colors.  It was amazing how well I could do in these classes, when
I really concentrated.

I was due to leave in one week,
when my master approached me.

“How did you enjoy your year here?”
he asked as he sat down on my bed.  I was at the computer desk nearby,
finishing up the last of my schoolwork for the year.  It seemed so strange, to
be finished.  To have been here for almost an entire year.  It felt like almost
no time and an eternity at the same time.

“I enjoyed it very much, sir,” I
replied dutifully, and the truth was, I had enjoyed it, despite my mistakes and
missteps, with everything from his scotch to the terrible party.

“Do you wish to continue this
arrangement for another year?” he asked, prodding me.  “You know the word, if
you don't.”

For once, I didn't answer him
immediately.  I sat and stared at my monitor.  I was conflicted.  There was a
part of me that realized I would have to get back out into the real world
sooner, rather than later, if I wanted any semblance of a normal life.  But
there was another part of my that wanted to keep going, to continue to explore
this beautiful, strange, wonderful thing we had.  It was a once in a lifetime
opportunity, truly.  I couldn't pass it up.

“I do wish to continue, master,” I
finally said, turning towards him and bowing my head slightly.  I wasn't yet
ready to say the word.  I needed another year.

And not just to continue to
experience this thing we had, but so I continue to teach myself control.  What
happened at that party so many weeks ago showed me that I had a long way to go
in that department.  And my master had a lot to teach me.

“Good girl,” he said simply.

So, that was it.  I would be
spending another year here.  I would presumably be doing everything that I had
done for my master.  And he would introduce me to even more things.

But first, I had to make it through
yet another summer.

Three months.  It didn't seem as
tortuous, this time around.  I knew I could make it.

Check
out other works by Mallorie Griffin

Be sure to read the first and third installments in this
series:
Her
Father, My Master: Mentor
Her
Father, My Master: Eventide