Jonathan Creed

Tension drained from my body.

I stopped pretending to clean a glass, and sat back down across from her. Sarah was smiling at me.

"I guess if I ever want to go back to school I should have you take my entrance exams for me."

I grumbled. "Very funny," I said.

The kitchen was dark now. It was only three o'clock, but it was as dark as night outside. Thunder all of a sudden echoed across the sky ... and raindrops started to splatter against the windows.

Must be too hot for snow ... I thought to myself.

I glanced across the table at my teenager. She was watching the rain.

I raised an eyebrow. "So are we done asking questions about me?" I asked.

She nodded. "Yeah, apparently you're just a super smart cop."

She must be feeling a little bit more comfortable with me if making fun of me was now allowed.

The rain was loud ... and periodically thunder would crack above.

"Would you like to play pool?" I asked.

Sarah screwed up her face. "I prefer snooker," she said.

I sighed, "Sorry," I said. "No weird British pool here."

She very childishly stuck her tongue out at me.

I tried to explain. "What I really want is to go down into the basement. We won't hear the rain down there. We'll play a game till things quiet down."

She nodded, but made no move to get up.

I stood, "Come on, I'll even make us some hot chocolate ... I'll be right behind you. Simply go back to hallway next to the front door. The door on your left leads to stairs down to the basement. Light switch is at the top of the stairs."

Strangely, the insolent little teen simply stood and went ... without saying a word.

Three minutes later I wobbled down the basement steps carrying two cups of hot cocoa. It was quiet and warm down here due to the insulation.

Sarah was sitting on the side of the pool table, dangling her feet just above the floor...

I handed her a steaming mug.

"Thank you," she said.

I hopped up on the side of the pool table next to her, and took a sip of my hot chocolate. We both quietly listened to the dull hum of my hot water tank as we sat.

Sarah began to fidget, and she rubbed her legs together. She took a swig from her mug, and took a deep breath. Her face contorted again, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

I gently put my hand on her back. "Something wrong?" I asked.

Sarah leaned back into my hand, increasing the connection between us. I could feel her bra through her blouse... "You won't like the answer," she said softly.

I groaned internally ... we both knew what she wanted to talk about ... except I had wanted to be the one to bring it up first.

She continued. "We can't just ignore the chip Mr. super smart cop. It might make you comfortable pretending to my father or brother or whatever ... but it is constantly chattering in my head ... and I can't fight the urges forever. The headaches are too bad ... something in my mind will give." Sarah paused, and looked down at her legs, which she was now cutely swinging in midair.

I quickly tried to think of a response. "What is the ... the um ... chip telling you to do now?"

Sarah paused for a second ... thinking. "It's not so much that it tells me with words ... nor is it like it is some separate entity giving me suggestions. All it feels like is thinking of something that you know you wouldn't normally think or feel ... but then thinking it anyway."

That was confusing.

"Okay..." I started. "So what are you thinking now that you shouldn't be?"

Sarah paused, and took in another deep breath. "Well, right now I'm mad at myself for some reason ... because I'm sitting next to you. I feel as if I should be ... on my knees."

I didn't like the way this was heading.

"So you're having 'sex slave thoughts, '" I said.

She nodded miserably. "It's so confusing," she said. "I mean, it's like a battlefield in my head." She all of a sudden turned to me a looked me straight in the face. "I'll have you know I've never been this pathetic in all my life!" She shouted. "I'm a hardcore feminist ... I feel sick with myself for feeling this way ... after all the things women have done for equality ... I get all excited about the prospect of making you lunch." Her mood suddenly switched again, and she collapsed into me. Her head rested heavily on my shoulder ... as if I were the only thing that held her up. "And now that's not even the worst of it. I keep wanting you to hit me ... to call me degrading names ... to USE me for any sexual desire ... and all this time I have to eat lunch and discuss colleges and jobs with you and act like nothing is going on!"

Her earlier moaning from her bedroom made more sense now. "You masturbated when I told you to clean up didn't you?" I said.

She nodded against my shoulder. Her voice was quieter now, but somehow filled with even more passion. "I rubbed myself like a horny bitch as soon as you left ... I've never cum so hard ... fuck it was great."

"Language, Sarah..." I said, as if I were her father.

I felt her stiffen next to me. "Sorry sir." Suddenly she jerked away from my shoulder and looked up at me. "I didn't mean to say that!" She said. "The little whiney slave Sarah said that before I could even THINK!"

This was spiraling out of control.

I reached out for her, "Shh, Sarah, it will all be okay." I pulled her into our second embrace ever. She didn't cry this time ... instead she just sighed into my chest.

"Fuck me Master," She said.

Startled, I pulled her away from me so I could see her face. Her green eyes were pools of lust ... and her cheeks were flushed. Her long mahogany hair was slightly disheveled, but that only made her sexier.

Quickly, Sarah dropped to her knees, and looked up at me from the floor.

"Please, Master" she said, "please claim me."

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Chapter 9

It was silent for a beat.

The dull hum of the water heater filled my ears. The warm stuffy feel of the basement pervaded my skin, and my legs were falling asleep from sitting awkwardly on my pool table.

Sarah Gale had just asked me to claim her. Whatever that truly menas.

Half a minute passed, and thousands of thoughts ricochet around inside my head. But one singular one came to the forefront.

What she had just said turned me on ... and that worried me.

As a modern man I wasn't supposed to think of women as slaves or inferior things ... but the thought of having such ... control ... over a woman was ... intoxicating.

Not to mention completely out of the question.

An entire minute ticked by. Sarah still kneeled in front of me. Her face held no emotion but that of complete supplication. She was panting slightly ... I could see her nipples tenting her pink blouse.

I shook free of my disturbing thoughts, and found my voice.

"Sarah..." I said. "Sarah, get up. You're not thinking clearly ... Come on, I know it's still early but I'm sure we're both tired. Let's get you to bed." I watched Sarah's face slowly turn crimson.

She was on her feet so fast I couldn't see her move.

"What the FUCK have you done to ME?" She screamed at the top of her voice.

I was glad we were in the basement; otherwise the neighbors call the cops for a domestic dispute. Sarah seemed to go from embarrassment to anger rather quickly.

"Don't you think that for a second you should read anything into that little ... that little ... EPISODE!" She yelled. Her hair was messy, and her eyes were livid, even though they were filled with moisture.

I simply nodded dumbly.

Sarah took a deep breath. She still looked me suspiciously, as if daring me to comment on her 'little episode.' She kept her eyes on my face for a second ... then nodded.

"Good." She said. "Obviously this is all your fault anyway for imprinting yourself on an honest to god 'MIND CONTROL' chip. But if you think for a second that that was the real me you smug bastard then you've got another thing coming. I in no way wanted to act like that..." She stopped speaking mid sentence.

Her eyes closed shut and her mouth turned down as if she were in pain. Her hands shot up and clutched her head ... She moaned so quietly I could barely hear her... "My head..." she hissed softly.

I hopped off the table to help. I grabbed her head under her chin and tried to raise her face to mine.

"Are you okay Sarah?" I asked.

She shook her head ... and winced. "No ... can't think ... my head is killing me." Suddenly she jerked her head away from my hands. With a moan she collapsed onto her hands and knees, and threw up all over my basement floor. The putrid smell of sick filled the warm air of the underground room ... I slowly moved next to her, and knelt down. Sarah collapsed face down onto the floor next to her puddle ... coming dangerously close to getting her hair dirty.

I put a hand on her and started to softly caress her back. I could feel her diaphragm shaking.

Quietly she began to cry.

Time passed ... and I did nothing but keep my hand calmly rested upon her back.

Eventually Sarah stopped sobbing. She was now taking even deep breaths and her eyes were closed.

She had fallen asleep.

Gently, so as not to wake her, I slowly eased her up into my arms. I carefully walked up the basement stairs and the first floor stairs. I awkwardly turned the door knob to the guest room with Sarah still sleeping quietly in my arms.

I stole my way inside the now dark room and lowered her onto the bed. I contemplated taking her clothes off, but when I found they were free of vomit I decided that doing so would not help either of our causes. Instead of putting her under the covers I simply untucked the bed spread and wrapped her in it. She ended up looking like a baby in a bundle.

Her young pale face looked untroubled in sleep. Her red hair fell back in a glorious mane on the bed. She breathed slowly and rhythmically.

I silently eased my way out of the guestroom. Like a parent with a child I found myself wishing her good night as I eased the door closed.

It felt like the weight of the world was on my shoulders ... but I'm sure everyone has had that thought at some time. I staggered down the stairs to the first floor, and dragged myself into the kitchen. I felt so ... tired.

So very tired.

I hadn't been sleeping well all this week. I had forgone rest in order to collect my facts on the UniCORP investigation ... and then there had been last night ... I don't think I've have ever been that drunk.

I grabbed a dish towel from a drawer and put it in the sink, and started soaking it in hot water. Then I grabbed some disinfectant and a trash bag.

I turned the sink off and grabbed the cloth.

With my cleaning supplies in hand I walked out of the kitchen and started my way back down the stairs to the basement.

The smell had gotten much worse in my absence.

I could barely feel my feet as I trudged up the stairs to my bedroom. The disadvantage to my house is stairs. There are a lot of them ... I peeked into Sarah's room as I reached the first floor. It was dark and she was breathing normally.

I felt ... odd.

Normally I didn't like caring for anyone but myself. I put on a smile and a brave face for those at the office, but one of the reasons I liked being an officer of the law was the lack of people I had to deal with on a personal level.

Not having many non FBI friends was hard ... but I've never been good with people. With the FBI I know where I stand. If I'm 'interacting' with someone it is either because we are brothers in arms, or I'm slapping handcuffs on them...

But when I looked on at Sarah Gale sleeping soundly in my home ... I felt strangely protective of her.

I shook my head, and started walking up more stairs.

I went past the door to my library and then up another flight.

Finally I made it to my bedroom ... without even bothering to remove my clothes I flopped on my King sized bed.

I awoke to the smell of bacon.

For a moment I thought I was thirteen years old again and my mother was cooking breakfast. My head filled with images of mom in her yellow apron busily frying eggs and cooking bacon, while humming a little tune.

I saw my father sitting at the kitchen table, dressed for work and sipping coffee. The morning newspaper spread out before him.

I opened my eyes half expecting to see the room of my childhood ... But it was not to be.

I was staring at the ceiling of my adult house in New York City, and not that of the small home of my parents in Portland Maine.

I closed my eyes and mentally focused on clearing my head. Thinking of my parents was too painful. I took a deep breath ... and got another whiff of breakfast.

Sarah Gale, British teenager and model did not strike me as an early riser, or someone who cooked breakfast.

I quickly stripped out of yesterdays clothes and got in the shower. I tried to be quick about it but I found myself lingering. The hot water was welcome after two days worth of grime build up.

Finally I exited the shower. I grabbed a towel amongst the steam and dried off, but left the towel in the bathroom.

I walked into my bedroom in the nude ... only to find Sarah there ... with breakfast.

She looked up and saw me ... naked.

Her eyes dilated immediately, and her breath caught ... I also noticed her knees go weak. After a split second of staring Sarah snapped her eyes shut.

"I'm so so so sorry Jonathan, but I heard the shower start and I thought that that would mean I could bring you some breakfast..." she trailed off lamely.

After I got over my initial shock I took everything in stride.

"No don't worry about it Sarah," I said. "I'm just not used to having people in my house is all." She nodded, still with her eyes closed. I sighed. "Here, just let me get dressed." I walked into my walk-in closet and threw on a pair of boxers and shorts, and a flannel white shirt. I emerged from the closet to see that Sarah hadn't moved, and still hadn't opened her eyes.

"It's okay now Sarah, I'm decent." She opened her eyes owlishly. Her eyes did a little up and down as she took in my attire.

I might have just imagined the disappointment in her eyes.

"Thank you for making me breakfast in bed Sarah." I said politely.

She suddenly blinked rapidly, and refocused her eyes on me. She glanced at the tray with bacon and eggs on it. "Oh, well ... I just ... I just thought that since you let me stay here and all with my little problem ... and how rude I was last night when I ... when I asked you... 'that' question." Sarah seemed like she was really struggling.

I decided to help. "It's alright Sarah, no hard feelings ... this breakfast looks great."

Sarah looked at the plate of food as if it confused her. "I woke up on my own somehow ... right at seven. I sat in the bed fidgeting for a while ... and all I could think about was making you breakfast ... like it was my ... my duty or something. It was the most bizarre sensation." Sarah seemed to forget that she was talking out loud. She was in full confessional mode.

"So eventually it got so strong that I got up and did it ... and I felt wonderful the entire time I was cooking. Like I was serving..." She trailed off.

Then she suddenly glared at me. "Listen don't read too much into this. I'm just grateful you let me stay here because of the headaches and stuff." I felt uncomfortable listening to her skirting the fact that the chip in her head made her desire her own slavery.

I instead busied myself eating breakfast. It was the best I'd had since my mother had cooked for me all those years ago.

"This is great," I said.

Sarah suddenly lit up. "Really? Oh, I'm so glad Master, I haven't cooked much before so I was nervous but..." Sarah trailed off ... realizing too late that she had called me Master again.

"Sarah," I said. She looked up at me. "I don't mind. I know this is hard for you. Just do whatever you have to." She nodded slowly.

"Thank ... thank you Jon. Don't worry about me ... making breakfast stifled the urges for the moment." Sarah's voice was breathy and soft. "But do you think you could ... well, spank me?"

In my experience people didn't 'ask' to be spanked.

"Sarah, are you serious?" I asked.

Sarah sat down on the bed, and pulled her legs up to her chest. "Please Jon, just do this for me ... I promise I won't bother you after this."

The horny side of my brain tried to rationalize.

I had been feeling a bit like her parent yesterday. Perhaps spanking her for being so rude last night would be justifiable. Fathers spanked their daughters all the time without it becoming sexual ... it was just to maintain discipline and to keep a young emotional girl well grounded ... right?

I felt like I was agreeing to my own execution ... except it was my conscience that was marching to the hangman's noose.

"Okay, I'll spank you."

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Chapter 10

Sarah's mouth dropped open...

"You mean ... you're going to hit me?" She asked timidly.

Inside me I felt something building ... a sort of tension ... something primeval ... like there was a raging beast inside me that knew no humanity and no society. All it knew was its will, and its desire to be obeyed.

"I said I would, and I meant it." My voice sounded cold to my ears ... clinical, detached, yet ruthlessly uncompromising. It was eerie to here this voice pass my lips.

Sarah noticed it too. She was looking at me nervously now, and she was hugging her knees even tighter. "Umm ... Jon, listen, I didn't mean what I said ... I was just having another one of my little episodes, just forget I ever said anything okay."

The beast inside me disagreed.

The cold voice continued to speak through me. "No Sarah. I said I would spank you for being so discourteous yesterday, and I mean to keep my word."

Sarah bit her bottom lip and shook her head. Her red hair fell in front of her eyes. She seemed almost scared of me. She was all suddenly conscious of the fact that in her current position I could see up the yellow sun dress she had selected for the morning. She quickly stood and straightened her dress and began to edge toward the door.

"Look Jon, this is all a great misunderstanding, I'll just leave you with your breakfast and..."

I interrupted her.

"Sarah, be silent, and come here." I intoned in my new found voice.

Sarah lowered her green eyes to the floor. A mental battle seemed to be taking place in her head. Suddenly, she demurely stepped away from the door and stood in front of me.

I could smell her sex.

I sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. "Sarah, tell me you do not want me to spank you."

I saw a spark of resilience flash in Sarah's eyes. She looked me full on in the face and practically spat, "Don't flatter yourself ... lets be real shall we? If it weren't for this chip giving me migraines I wouldn't be anywhere near some Fed nerd like you. So just put any ideas out of your head."

She was a very good actress, the Jonathan of just yesterday would have been sufficiently cowed. But the animal inside me could smell her ... her own body was betraying her words.

"Take your underwear off..." I said calmly.

Her eyes popped with incredulity. "Excuse me?" She said ... her face darkened into a glower. She began to step away from me.

I didn't move from the bed. "Would you prefer I rip it?" I said menacingly.

Sarah paused a minute ... she screwed up her eyes ... her hands started to shake.

She slowly pulled up her sundress so she could slide the panties down her perfect hips and thighs and past her delicious calves.

"Satisfied?" She asked as she slowly stepped from the white garment.

I shook my head. I wasn't in control of myself ... something else ... a different part of me I never knew existed was in control ... and it liked control.

"No I'm not," I said. "I want you to pick them up, and put them to your nose.