Jonathan Creed

Sarah looked at me ... her eyes watering slightly. "What kind of man are you?"

I answered curtly. "One who gives orders ... and expects them to be obeyed."

Her entire body was shaking with desire as she lifted her own wet panties to her face.

I was enjoying her little show. "What do you smell Sarah?"

Sarah looked at me, silently begging me with her eyes ... She found no compassion in them.

"Sex," she whispered.

I smiled slowly...

"Now tell me you still believe you don't want to be spanked..."

She looked at me ... still defiant to the end... "You don't know me," she simmered, "You can't know what I 'believe'."

I laughed... "Now ask me how much I care about what you believe right now."

She tried to escape, but I grabbed her wrist. I effortlessly swung her up over my lap. She screamed at me to let her go, but I made easy work of her wiggling. I positioned her crotch over mine.

"Prepare yourself," I cautioned.

Sarah was straining herself to keep her crotch from touching my hardness through my pants. I allowed her no such rebellion, and pushed her down with my hand. I peeled up her dress and got my first close look at her naked flesh. The dual globes of her ass were smooth and pale, and simply ached for punishment.

"You're a demon," she screeched.

I ignored her caterwauling.

Instead, I was able to find a sort of inner peace. I laid my hand down, feeling her soft supple skin. I rubbed her slightly, enjoying my new found tranquility. The sensation felt like the eye of a great storm ... the silence that comes before a great hurricane ... a peace before the struggle ... and the inevitable surrender. I slowly lifted my hand, and delivered a single blow.

There was an audible 'crack.' My blow landed high on her right ass cheek.

Sarah cried out.

My heart began to race.

I hit her again, this time on the other cheek. It left a bright warm red mark ... in the shape of my hand. Sarah was shaking ... her entire body was quivering.

Five blows later, she began to groan in time with the swats. She began to lift her ass to meet my hand.

I could smell fresh lubrication in the air. She was turned on ... she could deny it no longer. No one could mistake the beautiful pout of her pussy lips swelling in reaction to my punishing hand, the crevice between them glistening and seeping with sexual nectar.

I hit her one last time, harder than my previous blows ... however, instead of immediately removing my hand, I ground it into her crotch ... rubbing her inflamed ass and her sopping pussy.

Sarah came on my hand.

Sarah wailed and writhed on my lap ... but I used my hands to keep her pinned and contained. She was mine ... and she went nowhere without my permission.

She started to cry over my lap.

The beast inside me paused.

Her tears became more and more pronounced ... and the beast grew more uncomfortable ... slowly I felt it withdraw from my consciousness, back to whatever dark place it inhabited in my mind before it reared its ugly head.

I suddenly felt disgusted with myself ... I threw the sexually used teenager onto the sheets and scrambled away from the bed.

I put my head against the wall, and slammed on it with my fist. I was worse than scum ... I practically assaulted her ... I should report myself to the local station and be put away ... it would be the least I deserve. Despair seemed to close in ... my own self hatred felt magnified.

A small voice from behind me freed me from my spiral of introspection... "Thank you."

I turned and looked at Sarah. Her cheeks were streaked with tears ... but she was looking at me with clear eyes for the first time. Her brow was free of any mental turmoil ... and her mouth was turned up in a slight smile.

I was confused. "But you were crying...?"

She nodded. "After ... I ... um ... peaked, I felt confused. I was confused for enjoying my own domination. I asked myself if being treated like that was all I was worth ... and if it made me happy..." Her smile suddenly broke out into a huge grin. "And I've never felt happier in all of my life ... then when your strong hands held me ... possessed me ... and made me serve your will. I never felt so complete ... or so filled with joy ... I need that in my life, like I need air to breath."

I turned back to the wall. "That is only the chip talking ... soon you're going to snap out of it, and shout at me for letting the beast out ... for being so cruel."

I felt Sarah's arms encircle my waist from behind. "No Master. When I was under your hand something broke inside of me. A barrier in my mind that couldn't accept what the chip had turned me into was torn asunder. That was the last vestiges of my old self ... and my old preconceptions. This chip isn't going anywhere; I'm stuck with it in my head for as long as I live."

She paused.

She put her cheek against my back and rubbed against me.

"The new me is a slave. Would I have been a slave if I had not gotten this chip? Probably not. But the new me enjoys being a slave ... or rather ... being your slave."

Sarah dropped onto her knees, and was now hugging my legs from behind. "So I'll ask you again Master of my heart and commander of my soul. Will you allow me to submit to you ... will you claim me?"

I heard the echo of her voice the previous day resound in my head. It seemed like a lifetime ago ... a different conversation, between two very different people.

I turned around. I looked down upon her bright forest green eyes staring longingly up at me. Her dress was rumpled from the spanking and dried tears still clung to her face ... but all I could see was pure feminine beauty, pliant, soft, and yielding. Her very expression screamed submission.

I slowly reached down and cupped her all too beautiful face.

"It won't be as easy as that," I said.

"We'll figure it out as we go," she said softly. Her eyes never left mine.

"I just spanked you," I whined.

"I enjoyed it," she countered.

"We'll have to make rules to figure this relationship out," I insisted.

"I'll obey any command," she replied

Emotion caught in my throat. "We barely know each other..." I rasped.

"I can't live without you," she whispered.

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Chapter 11

I was pacing the floor of my bedroom.

Thoughts were rushing around my head at a mile a minute. This situation was out of control. I was out of control ... we need boundaries ... maybe if we couldn't ignore it ... we could come up with something to deal with it.

Sarah was on the floor kneeling calmly with her hands in her lap. She had a small smile on her face and she followed me with her eyes as I wore down the carpet.

I finally threw up my hands.

"I'm no good at this," I said.

Sarah simply looked warmly at me ... she seemed very content with her little patch of floor. Her happiness was driving me crazy.

I glared at her. "You know, you could help me come up with some rules ... rules that can satisfy the chip but keep things calm and under control."

Sarah's smile dropped a few notches. "But Master, I don't want to do this 'just' enough to satisfy my chip. Why can't we just have no rules at all? Then you can do whatever you like with me ... and that would make me happy."

I sighed heavily. "Look chip or no chip why are you being so submissive?"

Sarah cocked her head to the side and fixed me with her forest green eyes. "Because that is what I want ... to be your submissive little pet."

I shook my head. "Fine. Be that as it may, we still need rules so that we can function and communicate with each other. I've noticed you've started to call me 'Master'. That is exactly the kind of stuff we need to be making rules for. What if we were around town and you called me Master?"

Sarah rubbed her legs together... "This is New York ... stranger things happen."

This was not going as planned. "That is not the point, it draws attention ... people would know that you are ... that you are ... what you are."

Sarah rubbed her legs together again, this time faster. "I know ... the idea is getting me all worked up ... public acknowledgement that I'm nothing more than your servant is making me drip."

I already figured that out ... the smell was reaching me on the other side of the room ... and it was making it hard to think.

I recently made the self discovery that I have a side that gets off on control ... and the sight of her kneeling at my feet was not helping.

I finally decided to give ground. "Look, Sarah. I'm the kind of guy that likes rules ... so help me out on this one ... I'm a Nerdy Fed like you said remember?"

A look of pure panic crossed Sarah's face.

She planted her nose into the carpet, like she was bowing to me ... as if I were her king.

"Master, I'm so sorry for calling you that ... there is no excuse ... please, please forgive me..."

I reached down and picked Sarah up off the floor. I cradled her in my arms. I sat down on the bed with her in my lap for the second time this morning.

"Sarah, don't even worry about that now ... it is in the past, forgotten and forgiven. But if you really want to make it up to me, you could help me think of some rules for our new ... um ... relationship."

She snuggled into my shoulder, and giggled. "You're my Master, I'm your slave. That can be rule one."

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, I think we've got that part down. But I'm talking about rules about how to cope with 'Rule One' in everyday life."

She crossed her arms ... making her breasts press against her sundress. "Like what?"

I thought for a second. "Like when you are to call me Master, and when Jonathan is more appropriate ... um ... and stuff like that. This will help us satisfy the chip, and keep you from totally becoming a different person."

She had a puzzled look on her face. "Become a different person?"

I nodded. "Yes! Do you realize how different you've been acting since I spanked you and we started playing this Master and slave game. You were a total brat when you got here ... now you're ... now you're ... a completely different person ... I don't want you to lose yourself to the desires the chip gives you ... because that would just be letting UniCORP win."

Sarah sighed ... and seemed to suddenly be taking things a bit more seriously.

"Okay. Rule one. You are the Master and I am the slave."

I nodded. "Rule two, you are only to call me 'Master' when we are alone in my house. Alright?"

Sarah made a face, "Fine. Um ... how about ... I am required to serve you at all times?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Sarah those aren't the kind of rules we need to be worrying about ... we need to think of safety rules ... like how about rule three should be, 'all play stops when you say a safe word.'"

Sarah shook her head violently. "Maybe in a Dominant and Submissive sort of relationship I would agree to having a safe word. But I'm not a sub, I'm your slave ... I will take whatever you can give me ... no abuse is too much."

How did she know the difference? Was there a difference? "Um, Sarah, are you sure you know what you're talking about?" I asked Sarah nodded. "Yup, I don't know where I learned it ... or why I know it ... but I'm certain that because I'm your sex slave, and not just your submissive ... that a safe word is not needed. Nor do I want one was.

I was flabbergasted. "Sarah, that is far too much power to give me ... that could be dangerous for you. Not to mention publically frowned upon."

Sarah smiled warmly at me. "No, I need to know this is real ... that I can't stop it by just saying a word."

I was at a loss for words.

Sarah spoke again. "Master, may I suggest more rules...?"

I nodded unenthusiastically.

"Rule Three, is that I must attend to your every sexual need without question. I must also wake you up every morning with a blowjob."

I tried to say something ... but my willful slave was too busy making rules.

"Rule Four, is that I must always have my pussy readily available for access, as well as my breasts. I never want things to slow down again simply because you have to remove my underwear.

I once again tried to speak.

"Rule Five, is that I must remain as beautiful as possible for you, and must keep my pussy bare and legs shaved."

This was getting out of hand.

"Rule Six, is..."

"SLAVE, SILENCE." I bellowed.

Sarah's mouth froze midsentence ... she complied ... it was complete and instantaneous obedience ... almost like she really didn't have a choice but to obey.

"Slave, I will think of the remaining rules and inform you of them as they take shape. However, I will hold you to all the rules you have named."

Sarah nodded ... being very careful to not make a sound.

The smell of sex rose in the air. Shouting seemed to arouse my slave.

I set her down. She kneeled immediately.

"Slave, don't you think it is a bit presumptuous to assume all those rules when we have not even had proper sex yet?"

Sarah's mouth opened slightly ... then closed quickly. She settled for a single nod.

I smiled. "My thoughts precisely my pet." I was really getting into this Master thing. "In fact, as punishment ... I shall not make use of you sexually. Instead, I am going to send you down stairs to make a pot of coffee."

A look of outrage passed over Sarah's face. Ah so my bratty teenager was still in there.

"Do you have a problem slave?' Her face turned red ... but she shook her head.

"Good," I said. "I will be in my study downstairs waiting for you."

She nodded. She stood to go downstairs.

"Sarah," I said. "I believe you are in violation of rule four. Please take your bra off and throw it away."

Sarah's face turned even redder. But slowly she reached behind her back, and unhooked her bra. She then fished inside her dress, and pulled it out the white garment. She threw it in the trash can next to my bed.

"Good slave. See you in ten minutes."

She scampered out of the room. I could hear her padding lightly down the stairs in her bare feet. It aroused me to think that all she had on was a sundress.

But it would be even better if she was simply forced to be totally naked while in the house.

I smiled to myself ... I think I just thought of rule six.

I sighed and collapsed onto the bed. I don't think I will ever forget this morning ... the morning I acquired a slave ... and spanked a willing ... well, sort of willing girl.

I chuckled to myself.

I hefted myself out of bed with a groan. I was already drained and it was only 9:00 AM.

I slowly made my way to a window. I needed to open one to filter out the room. I could hear the sounds of the city with the window open. A soft chilly breeze rolled in.

I left the bedroom, and went down a floor to the study.

My study was my pride and joy. It was a room lined with mahogany shelves on each wall. All the shelves were filled with books that I inherited from my father ... who inherited them from his father. My library was worth quite a bit ... and it was filled with old books whose worth I couldn't even begin to imagine. The carpet was a deep burgundy and the ceiling was white. At the far side of the room from the door my dark lacquered wood desk sat. It had all my most important documents hidden inside a secret panel.

The final element was an old leather chair. It was a gift from my favorite professor at Harvard.

Grant Casey was one of my inspirations, and on my graduation day he invited me to his house to have dinner with him and his wife. I skipped the traditional graduation parties and ate a quiet dinner there ... and it was one of the most profound evenings of my life.

-------

That night he said something to me, while we were alone and his wife was in the kitchen taking a call.

He had said, "Jon, out of all the students I've ever had, I've never had one that applied themselves so much. And I've never had anyone finish my course with a ninety nine average."

I had smiled at him, and replied, "I still think that my scenario was apt. If we simply had more time for the final I could've proved..."

Professor Casey had raised his hand to cut me off. "Jon that is not what I wanted to talk about."

I had quieted ... when Professor Casey spoke ... I always listened.

"Jon, what I want to say is that you have perseverance. You adapt to any problem and any situation with ease. You have a dogged determination that is both uncanny for someone your age, and someone with your natural blessings. You're a fine boy Jonathan. That is why I am going to make you this offer."

He paused.

"My brother Harry, Jon, is in the FBI. The FBI is always looking for intelligent recruits ... ones that can adapt, and ones that are trustworthy and dependable." He had looked at me across the table with a gentle calmness. "Jon, I've talked to Harry, and told him all about you. Suffice it to say he is interested. You've got a B.A in Law, and that would make you eligible ... if you were twenty three. Harry has pulled some strings with the admissions board ... and he wants you to appear before a private testing committee. They will administer a written and an oral test ... if you pass, they will let you join the FBI training Academy three years early."

I was speechless ... Professor Casey ... he was my idol.

He had smiled slightly when he saw my astonished look. "Do you want the job Jonathan?"

I nodded... "Yes, thank you Professor, I can never tell you how much I owe you? But ... but why me? Why do you think I am worthy of such trust."

Professor Casey had looked very solemn at those words. His deep brown eyes gazed at me with the utmost sincerity. "Because Jonathan ... I know you will do what you've always done ... persevere."

Professor Casey and his wife died in a car crash later that year...

-------

I suddenly lurched back to the present.

I was fingering the chair, running my hand across the soft worn leather.

On the back of the chair, a metal tag was attached. On it was one word.

Perseverance ... Professor Casey's motto.

That is exactly what I would do with Sarah. She needed me ... and I needed a change in my life. To long had I been stuck in a rut. My drinking was out of control ... and in the back of mind I knew I was depressed.

I would persevere ... I had to, Sarah was counting on me.

I looked at a picture sitting on my desk and smiled.

Grant Casey was smiling back at me.

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Chapter 12

Memory lane is always a painful road to stroll down.

I turned Professors Casey's picture down onto the desk. I didn't want to look at him ... I was a mess still ... the job he had offered me was eating away at my sanity little by little. What seemed like a blessing had become a curse.

But it wasn't his fault; he just wanted what was best for me.

I heard a car alarm go off on the street below. It was quickly silenced.

I opened a drawer, and fished out a piece of paper and a pen. I began to transcribe the 'rules' to the new relationship Sarah and I were embarking on.

Rule One: Master Creed owns Sarah the slave.

Rule Two: The title Master is only used when in the Master's house.

Rule Three: Slave must attend to every desire of the Master; the Master is to be awoken by a blowjob.

Rule Four: Slave is never to wear underwear, be it outside the house or not.

Rule Five: Slave must maintain her appearance.

Rule Six: Slave is to be naked at all times while in the Master's house.

Rule Seven: Slave is to tell no one of her relationship without express permission from Master.

Rule Eight: Failure to comply with the above rules will result in punishment at the discretion of the Master.

I put my pen down and looked at my new and bizarre relationship rules. Suffice it to say I felt incredibly weird transcribing these barbaric tenants to paper.

Yet at the same time ... I felt electrified. Some of these rules were simply to keep our relationship secret and safe ... yet there was no denying that some of those rules were for no other purpose than my pleasure.