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Poppy Ch. 01

By: Milhouse1688



He gave her enough time, then entered the room. She stood obediently in the middle of the room, waiting. His opening of the door startled her and she jumped. She tried to compose herself, hoping He hadn't noticed. She was nude, gloriously nude, standing with one knee bent slightly, the other straight as she used the last of her modesty to try and hide her sex from Him. Her right arm was bent with her hand on her opposite shoulder, trying to cover her breasts. She met His gaze and read His disapproval. She slowly forced herself to lower her arms. She displayed herself proudly but she knew to keep her head slightly bent down, her eyes lowered. 

He started His inspection, as he slowly walked around her, beginning with her feet. He could see from the side of her feet that the soles were a light pink and soft-looking, the nails unpainted. He made comment about His approval of that fact. The toes were well manicured and well-proportioned. The ankles were will formed and tapered into a well defined calf. Her legs had a smooth-shininess to them, and had been carefully shaved, no nicks. He smiled to Himself as He got to her knees, He had to admit He always enjoyed a cute set of knees. He would have fun tickling her there. The thighs were small for her size, five foot and a half He guessed. As He walked behind her, He saw no signs of cellulite in the thighs or buttock area. He stopped behind her as He got to her butt. She felt His gaze on her backside, her eyes darting back and forth nervously. She dare not turn her head but she felt the need to explain her butt. She didn't like it. She felt it was rather mannish and not alluring like some women's backsides she had compared herself to. 

He was admiring the view as He caught her increase in respiration. He knew she was most unnerved by His inspection there and He made sure to remember it for later. She was unhappy with her butt. He saw nothing wrong with it. Well defined cheeks, unblemished by tattoos or cellulite. He actually got on His knees to get closer watching for her reaction. She tensed, almost moving away from Him, but she held herself still. He was impressed. He continued His inspection of her backside from this closer position. No pubic hair was visible in the cleft of her cheeks and He approved. Her crack was closed, not revealing any depression of her inner hole at all. He was disappointed, but He still smiled to Himself. He would inspect her there more closely later. Rising up, He noticed a small patch of fine, downy hairs just in the small of her back. Thin and tiny, they were almost invisible except when she stood just right in the sunlight streaming into the room.

Her waist was also small. Her back, moderately freckled, caught His attention. She had a fair complexion to begin with, and the light tan lines of being in the sun in a bikini were barely visible. Still He would only allow her to sunbathe nude from now on. Her shoulders were well formed curves about the size of a baseball. He reached a hand out to each and cupped them. She jumped at His touch, then chastised herself, lowering her head in shame further. She tried to calm herself but knew she was displeasing to Him. He, frankly, could barely keep from laughing out loud. He maintained His grip on her shoulders tugging her back slightly and chuckling deeply. 

"Relax" He whispered to her. 

He could not hold it against her that she did not act in the way she was expected to until she knew what was expected of her. He would gladly teach her.

Next, He came around to face her. He started just below her pubic area, teasing Himself as His eyes slowly traveled up her thighs. She still stood with her legs closely together, hiding herself. He allowed her this shred of modesty. It was enough that the curtains of the large bay window in the living room was open for anyone to look in.

Finally allowing Himself to inspect her vaginal area, He noticed a narrow stripe of light brown hair, neatly trimmed.

"That will have to go, Poppy." He commented calmly. She nodded. Just a slow up and down of acknowledgement. She needn't say anything.

"Use hair conditioner. It will make the hair soft and shave off cleanly. You are to keep it shaved off until I say otherwise. Do you understand?"

She did, another nod. She actually felt a little better. She now knew something she could do to please Him. He continued looking her over, kneeling in front of her and getting close. Again, He was proud and impressed. She didn't flinch and maintained her gaze forward, letting down her guard and trusting He would not harm her. 

Her sex was narrow, compressed mainly by her closed legs, but also the puffy outer lips hid anything of her inner treasure. He would look forward to enticing her flower to open for Him as she grew more and more aroused, and then, to establish His control, He would, disappointingly, stop and leave her unsatisfied. She would learn.

Her hips were shapely, slightly on the bony side, but He wouldn't complain. Her navel, a perfectly formed a oval, was free from piercing. He was pleased by that also. He was not turned off by navel piercings, but if she was to have one, He would pick it out.

She had a flat stomach, a sign of working out. He would encourage her to continue, albeit nude. He enjoyed the faint outlines of her ribcage, better to be a little lean than a little heavy. 

Her breasts were perfect. He rarely saw breasts that were perfectly shaped, proportioned and colored. They were about B cups and evenly sized. Both nipples were similar in size and appearance and seemed to enjoy their freedom, becoming more erect as she felt His gaze on them. He watched her chest as she breathed deep, releasing a pent up breath she didn't know she was holding. Both arms, upper and lower were long and lithe. He had seen her elbows as she tried to cover up earlier and was please to see the pinkness of soft skin without any roughness. He enjoyed the light freckling on both arms, including an apparent birthmark on her left wrist. Her hands could have been the hands of a statue, perfectly sculpted from marble. Each hand was held partially open at her sides. All fingers well long and tapered to a French-manicured nail, unpolished. He had her hold out her palms for Him. Each was pink, soft, unblemished. Perfect. He made comment to that effect. The result pleased Him. She let out a short, nervous laugh, then laugh again at the silly sound of it. Her smile was very pleasing, but He was getting ahead of himself. First her neck.

Her neck was long but not too long, the perfect length. It also revealed a faint line of soft, downy, translucent hair that extended up into her hair line along her jaw bone. He thought of lightly running His tongue along her jaw, so gently disturbing each hair that He Himself had to fight down a shudder of anticipation.

The small pit of her throat, where her neck met her chest would also be a sensitive area to pay attention to. But that was for later. Now would be her inspection, later every part of her would be physically explored. 

Now He came to her face. She was gorgeous. He felt privileged she had come to Him. Her chin was slightly jutted, but in a cute way. She tried not to make eye contact with Him, but she failed, flicking her eyes from Him to elsewhere nervously. He did not stop her, only watched amused. 

Her lips, thin and painted a medium hue of pink were pressed together firmly, more so than normal He thought. Her teeth, large and white, were obviously a dentist's handiwork. A straight nose, slightly thicker than normal but by no means unattractive, had a sprinkling of freckles that spread under each eye. The dark lashes betrayed the use of make-up but He felt she needed so little to be beautiful, He could overlook it. Her large dark eyes, darting from Him to the wall behind Him, betray her fear of displeasing Him, and still shined with a hope that He would accept her, trying to please and impress. Her lids had an alluring droop to them, giving them a natural sultriness. 

Her hair was long, blonde and straight. He checked and the color was obviously natural, no different colored roots showed. It framed her face perfectly, however He couldn't see her ears. That was alright, He would brush back her hair later. 

"I am pleased. I like what I see."

She almost crumbled to the floor in relief. Then, remembering her place, she simply regained her head-down posture. He could still see the faint traces of a smile on her lips.

He was ready to show her to her room when the doorbell rang.

He paused unruffled, but she froze like a deer in headlights. Her eyes widened and she paused in mid-turn. Here she was nude, standing in the middle of the living room with someone on the other side of the door ringing the door bell, now for the second time. Her eyes spoke volumes, begging Him for permission to run and hide herself. 

Instead He shocked her. 

"Answer it." He said quietly.

She stared at Him. Did He really want her to answer it? Was this a test? She couldn't! How could He ask her to embarrass herself? How could she refuse? Was she not worthy of Him? 

Confused tears welled in her eyes.

"Poppy," He said just as quietly as before. "Answer the door."

She hated to disobey Him, not for fear of the punishment, but because she hated to displease Him. She just couldn't make herself go toward the door. The person on the other side now knocked loudly. The first pound made her jump. She tried not to cry. 

She looked to him, imploring, but she could not read His emotions.

"Go." He told her calmly, pointing toward the bedroom. Could she detect disappointment in His voice? It was so hard to read. She felt like a failure as she walked mechanically into the bedroom. Once inside, she simply stopped. She was only told to go inside nothing else, and she didn't want to do something else wrong. She heard Him answer the door, a package for Him, and then send the delivery man on his way. Once the door was closed she wondered what she should do? Would He punish her, and how? She decided to try and repair the damage she did.

She heard Him set the package down in the living room and heard His foot steps come toward the bedroom. She heard Him stop in midstep just inside the door. She had prepared herself for the only punishment she could think of. 

When He came into the room, He found her on the bed on her knees with her head resting on the bed. Her naked butt was raised and her legs parted for Him. She was offering herself to Him to beg for forgiveness. He found himself drawn to the bed, but not to fuck her. He would do that at the right time. He stole a glance at her spread buttocks, trying to steal a look at her rear entrance. He would make her beg to be penetrated there, but in due time. He sat on the edge and sighed. 

"Ahh, Poppy." He said in feigned exasperation. "What shall I do with you?" She couldn't believe He hadn't thrown himself onto the bed like a beast in heat and roughly mounted her, teaching her to obey. He told her to get up and sit with Him. She stood, more confused and hurt than before. Did He not want her? She had really upset Him now, she knew it. But He seemed to not be angry. She was sure about one thing. She was being tested again. She knew not to sit on the bed next to Him, like an equal.

She sat on the floor. 

"You expected to be punished, didn't you? You expected me to rape you and tell you that this is what happens to naughty girls who don't obey." He placed His warm hand on her shoulder. She tried not to, but she looked up to see His kindly face looking down on her with almost a fatherly, caring concern for her. 

"That is not how it is done." He said firmly, but gently.

"When you are punished you will know it. When you are made love to, you will know it."

This surprised her. Previously, she had gotten use to using sex as a band-aid for when she screwed up with the men in her life. No matter what she had messed up, no man would refuse her as she undressed for him and let him have his way. As long as she told herself that she was making things better, she was okay with it. Now that wasn't the case. She would learn what it was to truly be accepted, warts and all.

She felt better, almost felt like smiling. She never felt more accepted. She was safe here, loved, actually. He wasn't going to abuse her, He would teach her to obey but not by harming her. He would challenge her, that was for sure, but in a loving way. She never felt closer to another and decided she never wanted anything else. Tears threatened to well up again.

She remained sitting on the floor but leaned toward Him. His hand still rested on her shoulder as she laid her head in His lap, surrendering herself to Him.

Poppy Ch. 01



Just a quick note: the nonconsenting party in this story doesn't become happy about her situation at any point.

And of course, all characters are 18+ and entirely fictional.

Thank you to Coyote for the much appreciated feedback!

*****

My wife is gone. I guess she finally couldn't take what I am anymore; what I want. She never said the words, but she knew. She also knew that I would give her everything she wanted in the divorce, as long as she left Poppy with me. Turns out, my wife was not that much less fucked up than me in the end - and a week ago she gave her unspoken consent for the unspeakable.

It had been about 10 months before her mother and I had finally called it quits that things had really turned. It had hardly been perfect before then, but I remember the first time I saw that knowing look in her eyes. 

I had always done Poppy's hair before she went off to that piss take of a school, costing me nearly as much as my mortgage for a purpose that as far as I could see was little more than pomposity. The lingering process of pigtail plaits usually triumphed: it was nice to have that time together, plus she just looked adorable that way. Apparently, this style didn't seem all that bizarre for a girl her age in that frankly fucking weird school - perhaps its one redeeming quality.

On that morning Poppy was being a bit more of a brat than usual, and when she went to kneel in between my legs as she always did for me to attend to her hair, she decided to be a royal pain in the ass. First off, she faced away from me so she could still watch TV. To be fair, I was half telling the truth when I told her it would be pretty difficult to achieve her – or my – favourite style while she was looking away from me. So she huffs, and tells me quite nonchalantly to just leave her hair down then. 

Now, you must understand: nothing about this situation appealed to me. I distinctly recall registering my wife's quite bewildered expression as I firmly pulled Poppy up, spun her around, and asked her who the fuck she thought she was talking to.

In truth, my aggression shocked even me a little, but Poppy (and her mother) looked positively dumbfounded. Her bottom lip began to quiver, and I hurriedly reached my hand up to her face and stroked her pebble soft, rosy cheek. 

'I'm sorry beautiful, daddy's just tired'. Oh yeah, another redeeming quality of that place: all the spoilt little bitches still call their fathers 'daddy', so this also appears to have remained delightfully acceptable.

As I saw tears well in her huge, deep brown eyes – I'd always jokingly, yet lovingly tell her they were like saucers – I lingered just momentarily (to appreciate her hence markedly enhanced beauty), before standing and embracing her; holding her head firmly against me and leaning down to kiss her still loose hair. I did as I'd come habitually to do, and inhaled her scent deeply. I was never really sure if the smell of strawberries was owing to her shampoo, or if that was just the way she was – and while the latter seemed the less probable, it was the explanation I favoured.

'Hush baby, I'm sorry. I'm just not quite feeling myself this morning'.

I lie. She's just seen a (tame) glimpse of what I really am.

'Now why don't you sit for daddy, the way he li- so it's easier for me to get those pigtails in, which make you look so, so pretty. Yes sweetheart?'

I can feel her nod, and without a word, she assumes her regular position. The one I like.

I sit back down, and complete our customary, highly agreeable arrangement. 'There now' I soothe, and she offers me a sweet little half smile in return as I begin brushing through her silky, chestnut locks; slender red ribbons in hand, ready and waiting.

I hazard a glance at her mother, who I'm very aware has been staring intently at me the entire time. She doesn't say a word either, but there it was: that almost pained look of realisation (no doubt, various role playing incidents coming abruptly to mind), which would become so familiar to me. 

Really, Poppy's not exactly a 'daddy's girl' or any such cliché, but I think either because of my wealth, or perhaps even out of genuine longing to, she's remained close; more attached than I think most girls are with their fathers at her age. This has certainly suited me well. But from then on, every time we'd exercise this morning ritual; every time Poppy sat on my lap; every time I'd sooth my daughter when she was sad; every time I'd tuck her into bed at night, kiss her lips and wish her 'sweet dreams beautiful' – there was her mother, with that fucking look.

So now, there's no more surveillance.

*

'You look... you look stunning Poppy', I manage; attempting frantically to hide the full extent of my appreciation as she twirls in her new outfit before me. It's hardly conventionally 'stunning', but her unintentionally baggy, now apparently 'trendy' ACDC t-shirt, black skinny jeans and converse could not be more perfect on her. She's never heard an ACDC track in her fucking life, I smirk.

She actually looks a lot like her mother did when we met. But her mother at this age was nowhere near as fascinating as I recall; though perhaps that was my fault. Poppy is definitely shorter, and her frame in general is tiny compared to most. She's got it into her head that she's a boyish figure. I don't know about that, but when I urge to her that she's stunning - usually to stem her whining about plastic surgery - I'm not lying.

'Happy birthday beautiful', I smile as I continue to relish in the opportunity for overt admiration.

Her 19th had been a couple of days ago, but this was the night of her joint party with her friend from school. I don't remember her name, but I know that her parents were giving them the house for the night. I'll be honest – I wasn't particularly happy with this arrangement, but I'd surmised it actually rather convenient.

Of course I'd already given her her presents: an ipad, some Louis Vuittons or whatever the fuck they're called (I had my sister buy them on my behalf). £400 for a pair of shoes. Usually I'd be pissed, but there was something about the idea of the spoilt little smile (and excitable hug) I'd get in return which made it seem worthwhile.

So here was her last gift: a bottle of grey goose vodka. She squealed (adorably) in excitement as I handed it to her; no notion that it was more of a tool than anything else.

'Thank you daddy! Am I really allowed?'

I chuckle. 'Well yes baby, you're a big girl now. Just be careful'.

Really – after less than a quarter of it I know she'll be gone. Perfectly gone.

*

She's home. I've been lying on the living room couch, waiting for this since she left 6 hours ago. I haven't slept. I've been thinking, anticipating solidly. She's scratching her key around the lock; clearly utterly wasted. When I hear a thud in the hallway, promptly following the slam of the front door, I can't help but smirk.

I walk into the hallway to see my baby collapsed against the wall. I'm not sure if her eyes are closed, so I turn on the light. As soon as the harsh glare floods the unnecessarily large, non-functional space, I see her body jolt - her eyes bolt open in my direction.

'I'm ss...sorry. Daddy, I... I'm vey – very sorry dad, daddy'.

Adorable.

'Baby, are you a little drunk?' I ask her softly while walking toward her. I crouch down beside her and stroke her hair from her face. She looks at me like she's about to say something, but her words are replaced by a violent wretch. As she throws up onto her front - the rest of her body barely moving – all I can do is try to hold her hair back and soothe her.

'Let's get you cleaned up beautiful'. I can't disguise my quiet laughter as I scoop her into my arms and carry her up the stairs. Her head is rolling about uncontrollably, and I realise that she's passed out. 

Christ. Fortune truly smiles upon me tonight.

After gently cleaning her face with a flannel, brushing her teeth, and helping her out of her dirty attire (I suppose you could say, semi-consensually – well, she's out again), I lay her delightfully exposed body gently down onto my bed; rather in a state of disbelief at the numerous levels of perfection I'm currently bearing witness to. 

Without her clothes I realise that she's even less curves to speak of than I'd anticipated - but I can assure you, every inch of what little there is of her is fucking breath taking. She looks so clean; shaven smooth other than a neatly trimmed little patch of pubic hair. I'm so proud of my little girl. And that porcelain skin... she almost looks like she might break. I'm fascinated at the way her body probably does conform to her own 'boyish' assessment, and yet it is simultaneously, quite inexplicably elegant. 

I don't think I've ever seen breasts quite like them. They scream of youth and vulnerability, but at the same time beg for more, let's say 'mature' attention. Of course, petite - yet their ever so slight protrusion means they're all the more captivating. They seem almost opalescent; forming a beautiful contrast with those adorable pink nipples, slightly stiffened due to the calculated lack of heating. 

Yet she looks so peaceful. Oblivious to the fact that she's utterly exposed before me, and moreover, that I'm admiring her as such – anticipating her as such. 

Here we go. 

I walk over to the drawer, which has long represented a means of exhilaration. Now, as I open the auspicious compartment, my heart rate is telling of the momentous significance this time round. I withdraw the familiar, and yet thrilling four lengths of rope; running them through my fingers, feeling their coarseness and smiling. This is it.

*

She barely stirred as I put her into her bonds. After four hours in fact (I figured this to be just about long enough to ensure she was a little more alert and animated), I found that I couldn't wake her through any of the more conventional means either.  

When I squeezed her firmly in between her legs while lingeringly licking her cheek, that got the ball rolling. A subsequent biting down hard onto one of her inviting little nipples, followed by a louder than expected chuckle at her consequent flinch and moan, did the rest. The look of confusion, subsequently laced heavily with terror, was everything I'd hoped. Quite simply, it felt like her eyes alone were dictating the throbbing in my cock. 

'Oh my god, what are you doing?!' she manages, as she eventually adjusts to the impossibility of rationalising the situation.

'Hey sleepy head', I smile, ignoring the pointless question.

She squirms violently as I begin to stroke the delicate entrance to her body. 

'No, no. Oh my god, why –what are you...' Her voice is stolen by her sobs.

So perfect. So dry. Her crying this way is the most beautiful sound I've ever heard. 

I flash her a loving smile and without a word, slowly push my middle finger inside of her. Fuck. I expected her to be tight, but this is just... ridiculous. She writhes as high off the bed as her restraints will allow as she squeals.

'Hush now baby, it's okay', I placate softly as I place my free hand flat onto her so familiar, perfect ivory torso, pushing her gently but insistently back down. 'Does that hurt Poppy?' I ask as I move my deliberately coarsened finger (the things I do for love) in and out of her, progressively further each time. I feel that it must; she really isn't succumbing in any respect. 

She nods frantically, accompanied by some simply adorable pleading. 

'Please daddy, please stop touching me. Let me go. I'm begging you – oh my god, please! Please'. 

Her final 'please' is barely a whisper, which trails into defeated weeping. I've done nothing but stare into her eyes; a deliberate, calm smile informing her of the futility of her appeals. 

If she could get inside my head – know what it was doing to me – she'd realize that it was only making things worse for her. Making women cry and beg has always been a favourite pass time of mine I suppose you could say, but Poppy is truly unsurpassed in terms of the effect her various displays of displeasure are having on me. Thinking practically however, I fear she'll rip my cock to shreds if I fuck her the way I intend to in her current state. 

Keeping my finger inside of her, I begin to gently rub her clit with the pad of my thumb. Ever so gently, round and round. 

'Does that feel nice beautiful?' 

I'm not entirely sure how much this even can be a case of matter over mind, so to speak, but I'm enjoying the feeling of more of her in any case. 

She's shaking her head hysterically. Her sweat and tears have caused several locks of her hair to stick to her face. But - while that's all certainly appreciated - that's all the moisture she's surrendering.

'Come on sweetheart. Be a good girl now and open up that pretty little flower for me'. 

She's closed her eyes. Not in the way one might were they attempting to heighten the effects of other stimuli, but in a more concentrated, desperate way. She's frowning and grinding her teeth. Maybe she's trying to imagine she's somewhere else. 

Her crying has stemmed into more of a whimper now, laced with the occasional, now rather pitiful 'no' - and it seems that in fact this may be even more of an affecting sound than before. 

I can't wait any longer, and the look on her face - the way she opens her eyes as I withdraw my veritably bone-dry finger, suggests that she realizes this. Her panting increases as she begins to wriggle adorably, pulling once more against her restraints. I'm gratified to see that her wrists and ankles are now raw as I stand, pull down my jeans and boxers together, step out of them and hastily retrieve the lube from my bedside drawer. She closes her eyes tightly again, and it's really pissing me off now. I've waited too long to have her – to look into those stunning eyes as she helplessly watches me fuck her - to have them shut, allowing her thoughts to be forced elsewhere with greater ease. 

'Oh dear, are your wrists sore?' 

She doesn't answer. Truth is, I'm going to untie her. Not her ankles - just her wrists. I want to hold them down myself; squeeze them myself as I take her. But I want to play with her.

'Open your eyes beautiful. Do you want daddy to untie you?'

She nods warily, with a clear sense of hope in her just opened, now wide, sparkling eyes. 

'Please daddy. I won't tell, I promise. I promise, please just let me go'.

I'm so appreciative of her naivety. She still thinks there's going to be a happy ending. 

'Okay baby, just stay still'.

I climb back onto the bed and position myself in between her legs. She goes crazy again at the sight of my hard cock so close to her. When I gently apply the lube to her defiant little opening, she goes so fucking wild I momentarily ponder the strength of my iron bed frame. But I gently restrain her as before.

'Hey now beautiful, do you want me to untie you or not? Stay still, or it's not going to happen'.

Her perfect little body freezes, and I can't help but smirk. 

I lean forward; simultaneously lowering my body closer to hers as I discard the now almost drained bottle to the floor. I deliberately stroke my cock against her artificially moistened, rosy little slit as I do so. She shudders, but she's clearly trying her hardest to obey me and stay still. Too perfect.

I untie her left wrist and she doesn't move. I untie her right and, as I expected, she starts flailing at me; punching, screaming. She doesn't disappoint. I quite easily seize both of her hands and pin them above her head with one of mine. 

'Poppy, why do you want to hurt daddy?'

'Because you're hurting me!' she cries, her voice cracked.

I tilt my head to one side. 'Come now baby, have I hurt you a lot?'

She doesn't answer. Just cries harder as I feel her feeble attempts to break free from my grasp.

'If I fucked that pretty little thing between your legs... Do you think that would hurt beautiful?'

More wailing, pleading. 

'You can't! I'll do anything... please daddy. Please don't!' (etcetera etcetera)

She's clearly not caught on yet.

'Well let's see shall we sweetheart?' I ask her in mock joviality, relishing in her look of sheer desperation as her pleading gets no (verbal) response.

I can feel her body still, but she's completely tensed up. Utterly terror-stricken; utterly beautiful. 

My cock is harder than it has ever been I'm sure, as I position it at the entirely perfect means of access to the one place I've desired to be for so long. 

I kiss her gently on her nose. 'Deep breath beautiful'. She tries to obey, but in her state she's clearly finding it difficult to regulate her breathing. The perplexed, horrified look on her face as I playfully wink and smile at her is just precious. 

And slowly, surely, I push myself inside of her. As she clenches against me, I realize that it's every bit as exquisite as I had imagined, and her whimpering is only making it better. She screams and moans a series of noes and appeals as I tear lingeringly into her. My perfect little girl. 

My entire length is imbedded firmly into her quivering form. I can feel her heart beating out of her chest, and can't help but moan as I squeeze her wrists even tighter. All mine.

I lean down to whisper in her ear: 

'I'm going to fuck you very, very hard now, okay beautiful?' 

Rhetorical of course.

As I pull back eagerly to register the look on her face, I see that her eyes are shut once more; tears still flowing from their corners. I take my free hand and sternly grasp her cheeks. 'Look at me Poppy!' I snarl. Her big brown eyes open wider than I've ever seen them, and she flinches as my cock twitches. 'Aw, my poor baby', I smirk. 

Releasing my grip on her now veritably scarlet cheeks, I shift my weight onto my elbow and stroke her soft, burning face. 

'Hush, hush', I whisper; 'brave girl for daddy, yes?' 

I kiss her soft, pouty little lips in a way I've done a thousand times before - but only now does she realise that what it's long meant to me is something quite different to what it meant to her. 'There now', I soothe as I brush her long, tear strewn locks from her face.

My twisted comforting works as I'd hoped, and in that moment she looks deep, searchingly into my eyes, and I can feel the pulse rate in her wrists slow just a fraction. She's looking for the man she thought she knew, and when I begin to pull slowly out of her, her expression of naive hope is just fucking delectable.

I seize my opportunity and slam brutally back into her; being met by violent spasm and an almost painfully high pitched squeal. 

Again and again I pound her tormented, precious little pussy. Her squealing her now stock phrase, 'daddy, please stop' is pushing me further toward the edge each time, and I am in a state of sheer ecstasy as I sink the fingers of my free hand deep into her soft yet slender thigh, so that I can pull her deeper onto me. I've no doubt it'll leave a few sweet little bruises to admire later.

I can't resist but to reach down and run my finger around the primary bodily object of my torture. She stares in horror as I reveal the glinting red; she looks like she's going to fucking pass out as I insert my stained finger into my mouth and withdraw it clean. Slightly metallic, but utterly delicious – it only serves to further motivate my assault. 

I'm so close. She's so pale.

'Daddy's going to come inside you', I manage through clenched teeth. 'Would you like that sweetheart?'

'Daddy, I... I'.

She's arched her body; her head flung back, emitting now silent screams. And moans of some description.

'Ready baby?' I ask her, smirking, as my grip tightens around her wrists. She's now biting her lip to the point that she's drawn blood, and her pelvis is twitching uncontrollably with each thrust. Poor thing.




Poppy Ch. 01



Coming inside Poppy was always a scenario in particular that I had eagerly anticipated. I suppose, not only is it the logical conclusion, but I always felt there to be something so wonderful in filling an unwilling with the material consequences of one's own selfish, carnal pleasure.

But the feeling - the feeling of coming inside my writhing little girl, is just... perfection. As she shakes violently in response, it only serves to intensify the (fuck it, various positive superlatives...) stimulation.

*

I've been regarding her for around five minutes now; lapping up these numerous delights as the extent of both of our breathing remains as likely medically concerning. The look of shame on her face is wholly evident. She can't look at me - she can't look at herself. She's just staring blankly over my shoulder at the ceiling, not even crying anymore. I wonder if she even has any tears left. I'm sure I'll find some.

I lingeringly pull out of her - breaking her glazed expression as she winces. 

'There now, that wasn't so bad was it beautiful?' I whisper. She merely moans despondently. Really I'm actually quite surprised at the remaining menace in my own voice, and I realise how far the extent of my continuing determination is a reality throughout my entire being. I've never before felt so much like I wanted to fuck so soon after. But I've plenty of time now, and rushing things doesn't fit with the tortuous nature of my plans.

Dawn is breaking.

She clearly has barely any strength left, so it's not difficult for me to re-tie both of her wrists to my bed frame. Following a swift kiss on her nose, reluctantly, I withdraw myself entirely from her space. 

'I'll be back for you in a few hours sweetheart. You need to rest'.

I quickly gather the attire that I'd readied earlier that night from my desk chair and head to the door. Stealing a glance at Poppy as I open said door to leave, I feel a pleasant warmth in my stomach as I register that she can barely keep her eyes open.  

'Sweet dreams beautiful'.



Poppy Ch. 01



His fingers trace a pathway on my skin, matching the spark that races inside me, from the touch of our lips and tongues down to my fiery, needy centre. I hear myself whimper hopefully, widening and wanting His fingers, willing them to stroke and probe and yes, to pinch and pull, spank and scratch, until the sensations sear through my body and my mind is lost in colour and pleasure and desire. His other hand tightens its grip on my hair, arching my head back as His lips approach my ear. He speaks, His deep familiar velvet voice another component of my need, my aching need for all that He is...and all that I can be.

"Are you ready now, little one? Are you ready for your first cock? For my cock?" I open my eyes and meet his, warm and friendly but glinting with purpose. Between panting breaths, I squeak out a 'yes', and another, and another, tumbling from me as His firm hand spreads my thighs and rising to a crescendo as His stiff cock spears me to the core. He murmurs, the words humming in my ear. "Good girl".

But I should start my story at the beginning. My name is Poppy, and I'm a good girl. Or should I say I was a good girl? A good girl says 'no', or so I was told, but I've learned to say yes to all the desires that lay hidden in me for so long. To say yes to things I'd never even dreamed of, but crave now when I'm with Him.

He is Uncle Simon - not a real relative, just a family friend. I suppose my mum felt sorry for him. He'd lost his wife years before, and lives alone now. Mum used to pop in and help him out with housekeeping, and sometimes I'd go along and he'd help with my homework. He always knew the right answers, and the right thing to say if I was having a bad day. As I got older, mum would let me go round on my own. I liked helping him, with a woman's touch in his rather austere, masculine space - a bunch of wild flowers in a cup on the windowsill, picked from the roadside on my walk over, or a pretty picture I'd found in a charity shop, to brighten his walls. I liked watching him get animated and purposeful as he found his hammer and a picture hook. I even liked the gentle teasing as he set the picture hook at his own height, well over six feet, before challenging me to hang the picture from it. I stretched up on my tiptoes, arms raised...unaware, then, that he was watching my skirt rise to show the soft, smooth skin of my thighs. Unaware that my stretching pushed my breasts out, straining against my blouse. Unaware what he was thinking as he stepped up close behind me, his broad chest against my back and his big hands brushing gently up my arms as he reached out to take the picture from me and rest it on its hook. Unaware that it wasn't the hammer in his trouser pocket that I could feel pressing against me...

I didn't know, then. I was...innocent, I suppose that's the word, though I refuse to feel guilty now.

Everything changed last summer. It was a glorious, bright blue, warm, wind-free saturday afternoon and I had walked to Uncle Simon's carrying a little crystal vase I'd found, that I thought would catch the light nicely on his mantlepiece. I had my new strappy sandals on, with a pale pink skirt falling to just above my knees and a loose white blouse, open at the neck, showing off the butterfly pendant I'd bought with my first wages from my first job - just a saturday morning job at a wool shop, but I enjoyed it, helping the customers and chatting with the sweet old lady who owned it.

Simon's door was ajar when I arrived, so I knocked and called out. "Uncle Simon? It's Poppy. Are you in?" His voice resonated from the bedroom, as rich and deep as ever, but with a note of sadness to it that I hadn't heard before. "Come through, Poppy. I'm in here".

I stepped along the hall, pushing at his bedroom door and poking my head round it. I had never even seen his bedroom on my previous visits, and it felt somehow wrong just to walk in now. His curtains were closed, but from the doorway I could just make out that he was sat up in bed. Oh!, I thought, realising that he wasn't wearing a pyjama jacket - but not entirely sure why the sight of his bare shoulders, the patch of hair on his chest and his neat pink nipples should have caused me to stumble. I held on to the door handle and asked if I should enter.

"Of course, of course, come in. If I'd known you were coming I would have got up, but I haven't really felt like it today. Is that for me?" he asked, glancing at the vase I was carrying. "You're such a good girl, to think of me. Pop it down here, on the bedside table and sit and talk with me."

I hesitated for a moment, troubled by the sudden thought that his lower half, hidden by the blankets, might also be pyjamaless. I pushed the thought away - boys didn't interest me and I knew that good girls didn't concern themselves with that sort of thing. Stepping into the room, I put the vase on the table and smiled brightly at Simon. "Shall I open the curtains? It's a lovely day!"

Simon sighed. "You weren't to know, Poppy, but today is my wedding anniversary...or would have been, if...well, you know." He made a half-hearted apologetic smile. "I do miss her."

"Oh, I'm sorry! You must be feeling so sad." I reached out, bending over to give him a hug like I'd hugged him so often in the past. Arms loosely round his neck, my head resting on his shoulder. Realising that my skin was now pressed against his, and that I could smell his familiar musky, manly scent more strongly than ever before. Realising that something inside me was fluttering like that time I'd been in the school play, just before I went on stage. Realising that his hands, which at first just lightly touched my shoulder blades, were now firmly stroking the length of my spine. I raised my head and looked into his deep brown eyes. His hands stopped at my waist, as though they were encircling me. Thoughts flashed through my mind. That he had nearly touched my bottom. That I had wanted him to touch my bottom. That good girls didn't have thoughts like that.

So innocent, then...




Poppy Ch. 02



The next morning, she awoke to bird's song and the sun streaming in through the window. As she stretched under the heavy comforter, she was reminded that she had slept nude. Normally this wasn't a big deal, but she would insist on panties at least. Now she smiled to herself at the thought of her sleeping totally nude, taking comfort in knowing He liked it that way. She was going to enjoy pleasing Him. 

She got out of bed, and stretched some more, then padded across the sun-warmed carpet to her bathroom. She began preparing herself for Him with a shower, making sure to scrub everywhere well. She found all she needed to shave her legs and armpits and took care of them carefully, making sure not to cut herself or miss anywhere. 

She found all the best shampoos also, and washed her hair twice. When she noticed the conditioner on the shelf, she thought of her pubic hair and His instructions to shave it off. She dutifully lathered up her hair and, while letting it do its work, she lather her pubic area, massaging it in. She found herself more than just sexually excited, she felt almost giddy, and yet nervous. She wasn't sure what to expect today, this being the first day of her training, but she was looking forward to it. She stood there in the shower, just out of the spray thinking about her life before this. 

She had always gotten the attention of men, but never seemed to keep the right kind. Either they were married or expected her to put out right away or only wanted her for sex. She could remember falling for almost everyone of them, and falling hard. She wanted to believe they loved her for her not her body, she wanted to believe they wanted to stay just to be with her. None had. 

She remembered one in particular, she always would. Peter had been different. She met him through a friend. He swept her off her feet, not that it wasn't hard, for she craved the attention. He treated her like a queen, when he could get away from work. He was loving, romantic, passionate and sensitive. Then, after they had begun having sex, his visits got further and further apart. She thought it was her, that she wasn't pleasing him. She tried to do better, it didn't seem to matter. She decided to surprise him, by bringing lunch to his work. He froze when he saw her through his open office door. As she entered his office, her smile faded. He acted like he didn't know her. Then as he pushed the door back open to escort her out, she saw it. A wedding band on his finger. She couldn't hold it in and the tears started to fall. She stopped in the middle of the open door and looked at him as her world and her heart began to break apart. She could read it on his face, anger, embarrassment. The picture on the wall behind him confirmed it. Him and obviously his wife, sitting in autumn leaves with a big Irish Setter. She left. Never went back. 

Getting back home, she took the bottle of wine out of the picnic basket and got herself drunk. Between crying and drinking on the kitchen floor, she made herself promise not to put herself through this again. And she hadn't. She decided there wasn't anyone for her and went 10 months without seeing anyone. 

The shower was getting cold. It brought her back from her daydream. She adjusted the temp so the water warmed back up and rinsed her hair, careful not to let the water wash away the conditioner below. 

Placing her foot on the tub edge she used the razor to shave off the last of her hair. She usually kept herself trimmed neatly down there anyway so it didn't take much. She wanted to make sure she was totally hairless though and ran the cold razor all over her sex. 

Shutting off the shower, she wondered just what He had in store for her today. She toweled herself dry and hand dried her hair, combing it back into place the way it was when He commented that He liked it. 

Stepping out of the bathroom, still nude, she noticed a food tray had been left for her. Its legs were shorter than the average TV tray and it was sitting on the floor. She knew that meant she was, also, supposed to sit on the floor. That suited her, she could sit in the morning sun while she ate, and look out over His large backyard. 

Several weeping willows swayed gently in the morning breeze and she could see several flower beds of all colors flanking a stone path that led to a gazebo. She felt very much at peace as she finished her light breakfast of fruit and croissants. The sun warmed her and helped dry her hair. Just as she was finishing, she heard footsteps approaching. 

She immediately stopped eating and lowered her head. 

The first thing He saw entering the bedroom was her naked form, on her knees on the floor, her feet under her. He could see the pink soles of her feet under her butt and her full naked back. He could see her hair was just drying and would smell wonderful. 

"Ahh, Poppy, good to see you up. You have showered?" He asked in his slow, calm voice. 

She nodded once.

"You remember your instructions from yesterday?" asking as He sat on the bed.

In response, she stood, hesitantly faced Him, and dropped her hands to her side. Her eyes remained on the floor. 

He got up off the bed and knelt in front of her. "Lets have a good look, now." He got eye level with her sex and looked her over. 

"Spread," He ordered calmly. 

She took a tentative half-step to the side revealing more of herself. 

He gave her a look that told her He knew she could do better. She took another half-step to the other side, totally revealing her shaved pubic area for His inspection. 

"Very good. I like it." Again she couldn't help but smile. 

He stood and sat on her bed. "Today you will begin training. You won't be pushed much today, but know that it will build as time passes and you are expected to respond well. You must follow my directions exactly. Do you understand?" 

Keeping her head lowered, she couldn't help but look quickly into His hazel eyes. She nodded respectful. 

"We shall start with your experiences. I want to know what you have done, whether you were forced to or not." She continued to stand with her hands behind her back, not sure if she was being given the opportunity to speak or not. 

"You may sit." He commanded in His quiet tone. She promptly sat on the floor. Again she felt drawn to Him and rested against His leg. 

"Have you ever been with another woman?"

She shook her head.

"Have you performed oral sex?" He gazed down at her large, dark eyes. 

She nodded. 

"Did you swallow his ejaculate?" 

She paused but then nodded. 

"Willingly?" 

She paused again, then shook her head. 

He sighed and stroked her hair. "I will teach you to enjoy it. What about being anally penetrated?" 

She lowered her head even further, embarrassed to admit it, but still making eye contact with Him. Slowly she nodded. 

He could see the faint traces of a sadness in her eyes. 

"Toys, fingers, or penis?" He questioned in his low, calm way. 

She raised her head more, looking to Him, wondering if He was waiting for her to actually respond. 

"You may answer." He replied, reading her mind. 

"Penis." she said quietly. For some reason, it was embarrassing for her to say the word. Here she was, well known for being turned on by dirty talk during sex and to Him she could hardly get herself to speak about even so clinical a word as 'penis'. 

"I take it not willingly?" He asked calmly. 

Her head automatically bowed. She didn't have to answer, He knew. She chastised herself for the tears beginning to well in her eyes. She sniffed hoping He hadn't noticed. 

Instead she felt His warm hand lift from her shoulder. Strong fingers wrapped around her chin and turned her face toward Him. 

"I shall make you beg to be penetrated there, and not because you think I want you to. You shall enjoy it. I shall teach you." 

She believed Him. She took comfort not only in the love He showed her now, but in the loving and tender ways she knew He would display His affections to her later. This was exactly what she craved. 

"To that end, you must be prepared, Poppy. That begins now. Are you ready?" He still held her chin. 

"Yes," she whispered, fear and excitement colored her speech. 

To begin with, He explained she must be ready to receive anything into her body. Of course that meant making room. He showed her to another bathroom with a large, vinyl covered wedge laying in the middle of the floor. Hanging by a hook on the wall above the toilet, was a large hot water bottle with a hose that touched the floor. She knew what she meant, but dutifully stood near the wedge, not moving until He told her to. 

Once He came in and walked past her, she heard Him go to the counter behind her and heard the snap of rubber gloves. 

"Position yourself on the wedge so I can access your behind." He watched her get into position, laying with her head on the thinnest part of the wedge near the floor and her hips just hanging over the edge. With her knees on the floor, she was in a perfect doggy-style position, ready for Him. 

"I will be giving you an enema to make sure you are ready to accept things. You are to hold it as long as you can." He instructed. He gathered up the end of the hose and inserted a long narrow nozzle. She realized on the wall directly across from her was a large, floor-length mirror. She turned her head and watched Him. He reached for a small bottle that sat in a base on the counter. Realizing it was lubricant for the nozzle she wonder about the base on the counter until He explained. 

"I will be inserting the nozzle now. I know it is hard, but you are to relax. Tensing will only make the muscles resist more. The lubricant is warmed so the initial shock should not be as great." 

She couldn't help it and did flinch slightly when she felt the tip touch her rear entrance, but He kept it there, just barely touching for her to get used to it. He was extremely gentle and she could barely feel it when He begin to penetrate her. The nozzle slipped in slowly, He taking his time. She used His calmness to calm herself and knowing He wouldn't hurt her she was able to relax and allow it to happen. 

Gradually, she realized she was getting drowsy and had almost relaxed herself asleep. She felt no fear from Him. 

Several minutes had gone by, according to the bathroom clock, and finally He leaned forward to her. 

"Its all the way in. Being so small I doubt you could feel it enter, but I want you to realize that taking it slow and using plenty of lubricant makes penetration easier. I am now going to open the clamp. You will feel the warm water enter you. Once the bag is empty, I will remove the nozzle. You must hold it as best you can." 

She gave a short nod to indicate that she understood and was ready. Slowly she felt a warmness in her butt and felt her tummy distend slightly. He hadn't used much water, just enough to get the job done. She actually found it pleasant. 

She hardly noticed when He removed the nozzle. She continued to lay in that position for a few more moments. 

"You may void now." He instructed her. She hated to move, but she obeyed, sitting down on the toilet. He left while she finished. After she was done, she re-washed her backside making sure she was ready for whatever was next. 

When she was finished, she stood waiting in the middle of the bathroom. She knew it was not her place to go looking for Him. When He wanted her, she would be ready, even though her heart was pounding, wondering what He might have in store for her. 

Eventually, He came and escorted her to another room. This room was obviously His playroom. He had all sorts of tools hanging on the walls. Restraints, shackles, chains, all were displayed on the walls. She couldn't help but shiver as she glanced around her. 

He saw. "Most of this is display only." He assured her. 

In the center of the room, was a large table, three feet off the ground and five feet long, covered in black vinyl with a black Velcro strap at each corner. On top was a large, vinyl covered box. 

"Position yourself on the box, as before." He pointed to the table. She walked to it, and finding a small step, climbed on top. It was thickly padded and she walked on her knees to the box, bending forward at the waist to lay across it. She knew she could be restrained on this table in this position, and it sent a thrill through her. 

Stepping behind her, He could see her tight, brown star waiting for Him. He barely could control himself. He wanted to show her the pleasure of a good anal reaming, but knew she must be properly prepared first. 

She heard the squeak of something being wheeled to the table behind her. She wanted to look behind her, but knew better.

She was surprised that she actually kept her nervous curiosity in check and maintained her stare forward. She heard Him moving what looked like a tall cart up behind her. She felt it bump the table as she rested on the large box doggy style. Then she felt His warm hands on her ankle. 

"I'm going to strap you in, Poppy." He matched His words with actions as He slid her bare leg closer to the edge of the table. She felt the Velcro strap at the table corner wrap around her ankle. He firmly strapped it down keeping it in place. Next He restrained the other ankle. Moving in front of her, He smiled at her, knowing what was coming next, as He strapped down her wrists. She knew it wasn't good behavior but gazed at Him, studying Him as he worked. He was careful with her, not making the straps too tight. She was ready for anything, she would not let Him down. 

Moving back behind her, she heard Him squirt something onto His hands. 

"This will help you relax." He said as she felt the heat of His hands on her backside. He rubbed His hands gently on the small of her back, slowly dragging them down her rump. As His hands ended up on each of her cheeks, He began to lightly kneed them, squeezing and massaging them. She couldn't believe how good it felt! 

His hands worked slowly and every move was calculated to make her feel the deep pressure on her muscles. Relaxing her almost into a trance, she suddenly snapped awake as she felt His thumbs come together on either side of her crack. They traveled up all the way to her back, giving her a tingle as they brushed against the outer edge of her pubic lips and rear entrance. She was actually becoming very turned on. It had been a while since anyone had touched her there. She felt His touch was almost electric. Sliding His oiled hands back down her butt, the thumbs again in her crack, she tried to push back.

He noticed her becoming more relaxed and beginning to enjoy it. He purposefully stroked close to her sex and her anus but barely touched them. She was starting to strain against the straps, savoring His touch on her sex. He smiled from behind her and suddenly lifted His hands away from her. 

She froze, immediately aware He had stopped. Had she done something wrong? She kept herself in the last position, locked back, working against the straps. Maybe she wasn't supposed to move. She didn't dare move forward and settle back down on the box. That would be her acknowledging that she had been moving with His rhythm, enjoying His touch. 

He stood back watching her with a grin and shook His head. He knew He had her, she would doing anything He wanted. He was pleased. 

"Back on your box, Poppy." He said with a chuckle as He smacked her butt, making more noise than normal because of the slick oil on her cheek and His hand. 

She settled with a sheepish grin that her long hair thankfully hid, after a startle, and got comfortable. It never crossed her mind that she was totally helpless, lying there strapped to His table. She trusted him implicitly. 

Now there was more squeaking of wheels behind her. She got serious, ready to serve Him. 

"This is vibrator is the smallest I have found. It was specially made for anal virgins. You will lay they and let it penetrate you. It will slowly begin to warm up and will slide into a little at a time. The mechanism is made to take almost half an hour for it to slide all the way into you. That way you will become used to it. It is also perforated and will lubricate you as it slides in. Do you understand?" He asked. 

She has tensed at "anal virgin", not know what it looked like still didn't stop a ever-growing fear about being painfully entered. She tried to slow her breathing and responded with a nod. She understood, and forced herself to resolve to make Him proud.

She kept her head up, staring at a leather mask that hung on the wall opposite, staring back at her. She tried to smooth out her breathing as she heard the hum of the anal vibe start behind her. She tried not to tense her muscle back there and forced herself to relax, telling herself to just let it happen. She felt His finger teasingly trail down her crack to her hole and stay there. She thought He meant to penetrate her Himself with His finger, the heat of His finger still rested between her cheeks, then she realized as she heard Him walk forward and face her that He had left a gob of warmed lubricant on her anus. 

"Once all eight inches of the vibrator are all the way inside your anus, it will begin to slide in and out. The speed will increase and so will the pleasure. Your muscles are totally capable of taking so small an object so you must relax and enjoy it. I have had several persons tell me it was the most erotic and satisfying experience they have ever had." He smile at her as He walked away, and she tried to tell if it was a smile tinged with just a hint of evil delight.

She thought about what He had told her, waiting to feel something. She knew He wouldn't lie to her, so she told herself to enjoy this experience. A clock on the wall nearby allowed her to follow the vibrators progress. 

After a full minute, she could still only feel the warm presence of the lube. Only by shifting her hips back and forth could she tell the vibe was even inside her at all. 

At the five minute mark, she could feel it had worked to a point in her anus that made her feel she needed to go to the bathroom. But the slight, constant pressure soon faded. After ten minutes it felt like a good 3 inches was inside of her, but it was so small she could only feel a slight, muffled presence. If she hadn't been concentrating on it, she could have forgotten that there was a toy slowly working its way inside her. 

By fifteen minutes she was resting her head on the cushioned box, pleasantly enjoying the slight pressure she could barely feel from her anus. It was warm and snugly deep inside her. If she didn't move she wouldn't have felt it all. She made herself wiggle every now and then to feel it push against the sides of the anal passage. 

After that, she stopped paying attention to the clock. She was blissful resting on the block, almost ready to fall asleep. The vibe was buried in her butt, and she had felt no pain at all. She was turned on with how it felt, happy that she had taken it so well, and proud that she would please Him when He checked on her. 

Suddenly the machine slowly thrusting the vibe into her stopped. Her head lifted off the cushioned and she tried to turn to look. She could feel the pressure had changed, it began to lessen. Then she remembered once it was all the way in, it would begin to pump, fucking itself into her anus. 

She gave a short gasp as it began to slowly shove its way back in. She gasped again as it slowly withdrew. Her anal passage seemed to be trying to keep it inside, sucking the vibe back into her. 

This time as it was pushed in, it went faster. 

A full hour later, He came to look in on her. He couldn't help but smile slyly as he approached the playroom. He could hear the machine still rhythmically pumping into her. 

He wasn't surprised, as He approached her, to see that she had apparently passed out. He stopped the machine and slowly withdrew the vibe from her anus. Pushing the table aside, He turned to inspect her. 




Poppy Ch. 02



Same warning and thanks as before! 

*****

"Time to wake up beautiful," I half whisper, stroking her cheek with the back of my index finger. 

She stirs, moaning slightly in such a pleasantly affecting way. My stroke moves down to her neck; still damp from our exquisite engagement but 5 hours ago. I'd somehow managed to fall asleep on the living room couch. In fact, I slept better than I think I ever have before.

Her eyes open lingeringly, as though she's not yet recalled what they had borne witness to when last they were alert. After a few seconds she begins struggling fiercely, apparently testing her restraints once more, and of course finding no reprieve. Her eyes dart wildly before finally settling on mine; the instantly apparent terror within them telling of the final comprehension of her reality. Where she is, what I did to her - what I am to her and she to me.

"Sleep okay angel?"

She's just staring at me, piercing me with a look of disbelief smashed into fear. 

"Do you need to use the bathroom?"

She can barely manage a hoarse "yes." Other than that she's now practically unanimated, save for her chest rising and falling at an entirely unnatural rate.

"I thought you might. Now, I'm going to have to carry you, okay?" 

Of course, her answer is of no consequence, but I wait nonetheless for a defeated nod.

"Good girl," I smile fondly, as I climb back onto the bed and in between her legs; the panic which consequently floods her being wholly evident at the surface of her skin.

I proceed to untie her left wrist, and she winces as I grasp it doubtless more firmly than I need to as the bonds begin to loosen. She doesn't put up any resistance, and I enjoy stroking the inflamed line with the pad of my thumb for a few moments. I recall how liberated two free hands had made her feel last time -- her charming little outburst. I wonder how long it will take before they subside. I certainly hope it's not too soon.

I let her suitably raw released wrist fall so that it's resting by her head. Now for the right.

Not as ferocious as last time, but she's had a rather physically trying time of late so I give her an 'A' for effort. She even manages to give my cheek what feels like a pretty impressive scratch. Still, I restrain her once more with quite remarkable ease; pinning her wrists above her head so that my face is directly above hers.

She shudders quite dramatically, squeezing her eyes tightly shut as a drop of my blood falls onto her cheek. I watch, rather captivated as it rolls down her face toward her ear; penetrating her tears - streaking through the middle like an arrow. Another drop falls, met by another flinch, and I lean further down to kiss it from her.

"Poppy, don't you think you should kiss me better too?" 

Her eyes open in a more reluctant, pained manner this time. She simply whispers a rather emotionless "no," before she looks away from me, back over my shoulder at the ceiling. It seems as if she finds the sight somehow comforting. 

I smile. "Sweetheart, I really don't want you to have to wet the bed."

Her eyes dart back to mine as realisation clearly hits. Without a word, she lifts her head from the tear and sweat soaked pillow and presses her lips directly on to her work. My eyes shut almost automatically as I very audibly inhale through clenched teeth. Not because of any pain. There's a sting sure, but more than anything I feel an aching elation shoot right through me. She holds there for a few static seconds and then lays her head back down again, returning her gaze to clearly soothing mundanity.

There had been a little blood on her lips before due to her aggressive biting, but the picture now is exceptionally striking. The urge to fuck her to the point that those beautifully stained lips frame a pure, tortured scream is quite overwhelming. But I suppose I've my end of the bargain to keep up.

In a surprisingly swift manoeuvre considering my burning inclination, I manage to pull myself off of the bed, sit Poppy up by pulling her wrists forward, and then pin them behind her back; binding them together with one of the lengths of rope that she's now so familiar with. She gasps a little as I let her fall back down, so that her arms are now forcing her back into an arch. I can't help but admire her in this position for a few minutes. So helpless: like she's just presenting herself for me to take. Her usually immaculate hair by my own hand is now soaked and matted at the same. Beautiful little purpling bruises have emerged in various places, and the sweetest little pool of blood... 

Once more resolving to be attentive, I force myself to untie her left ankle. I'm sure there's a little glint of hope in her eyes as I do so. I hope there was.

Rather than untying the other, I drag the ankle I've hold of toward it; so regrettably closing her legs, while consequently pulling the rest of her body at a twisted angle which doesn't look particularly comfortable. Before she's entirely liberated from the bed frame I secure her ankles together with the free cut of rope; leaving a length of only around ten centimetres between them (not long enough for any kind of quick get away, but just enough to allow for easier access and what not). I feel her sharp intake of breath as I push my arms underneath her shoulders and knees, before lifting her to me in a cradling embrace and carrying her toward the bathroom. 

She vehemently avoided eye contact with me while she peed. She sobbed her little heart out when I knelt before her, gently pushed her knees apart and helped her get cleaned up; shame and desperation flooding all of her features. 

As I admire the combination of her blood and my come which has seeped from her, I think pride best describes my feeling. Indeed, a two-fold manner of pride - and combined with almost painful arousal -- it makes for an inexplicable sensation. I consider how far that's telling of the very nature of this situation: feelings which do not conventionally combine, but that work so remarkably well together. 

The temptation to play with her while in such a compromising position is just too much. When I push my finger inside of her, she breaks down - throws her head back and begins stamping her feet a little, almost like a petulant child, as she groans more than screams 'no', over and over. I think this is the best reaction yet. Though, when I add a second finger and her whole upper body convulses forward, there's no containing my grin. Further still, the retching and desperate head shaking as I have her lick my fingers - lest I present something I know she'd like distinctly less to her mouth -- was very much appreciated. Simple little thing thinks she's managed to avoid that one.

"Up you come beautiful," I announce as I lift her to me as before once her crying begins to subside a little. I can feel her fragile little body trembling wildly in my arms; only intensified as I turn towards the stair case as opposed to either of our bedrooms. Her panicked look as I begin to descend is just priceless. 

Once in the kitchen, I set her down gently upon a chair at the kitchen table and proceed to bind each of her ankles to the two front legs -- forcing her legs slightly apart and ensuring that she can only stand or sit.

"Time for some breakfast I think, don't you?"

Her clear perplexity at such a casual proposition is quite amusing. I suppose this would be like any other morning, were she not completely unclothed and tied to her seat; having recently been fucked by the man responsible for her very existence. And the man who makes her breakfast. The thought makes me smile as I examine the copious array of lavish foodstuffs in our cupboards, courtesy of my little girl let loose with my credit card and the wonder that is supermarket home delivery.

"Hmm... what do you think, croissants?"

She doesn't answer. Her gaze has shifted to a blank stare at the fruit bowl in the centre of the table before her. 

"Fruit?"

I highly doubt she wants fruit. I highly doubt her brain has even registered what she's looking at. Her fixed expression and continued silence would certainly seem to suggest that she's going for a state of detachment.

"Okay, you want to skip breakfast for now. That's fine." 

She visibly jolts as I very deliberately start towards her in a manner intended to break her calmed state. 

"I'm sorry baby, I didn't mean to frighten you," I smirk, before pulling her firmly to her feet and slipping behind her to seat myself on her recently semi-vacated chair, so that she's standing, back to me, mere inches away. Quite the view I can assure you. Taking hold of her bound wrists to ensure that she doesn't fall, I softly kiss some of the exposed rawness while simultaneously freeing my insistent erection. Her violent sob shakes her whole body. I imagine it's taking all she's got to avoid collapsing onto me.

"Hush, hush," I whisper, lightly stroking her soft, delicately bruised inner thigh. The poor thing actually manages to regain a little composure, but I know that'll be short lived. I'll make sure of it.

"Now, this is going to hurt again I'm afraid beautiful." (Turns out it didn't take much.)

I slide my hand up and lightly trace my fingers along the sweet little indent where her painfully cute ass meets her thigh; lingeringly progressing towards my next beautiful target.

"In fact, I'd say it's going to hurt a lot," I chuckle, as I press my finger in just a touch, causing her to squeal and squirm ferociously to try and push me away. Talk about defiant little openings.

"Daddy, please! Please, I'll do anything! Why, why are doing this?" 

The desperation in her cries is just stunning. I ponder answering the question for a moment -- telling her that I'm doing this because she's mine, because I love her, and because nothing in this world affects me more than her agony. But she doesn't get answers.

I reach my hand up and hold my fingers before her mouth. 

"Spit."

"What? No! Wh-why?"

"Last chance Poppy."

She hesitates for just a moment before, still sobbing, doing as she's told. 

"Good girl."

I rub my dutifully moistened fingers around the head of my cock. Far preferable to commercial lube, I muse.

"Now then, ready sweetheart?"

"Please don't!" she screams, as I begin pulling her down by her wrists and thigh. All the resistance she can muster is delightfully pitiful. Nevertheless, I am going to require a little in the way of cooperation. 

Releasing my grip on those delightfully reminiscent little bruises, I bring my hand crashing brutally down onto her adorable ass, prompting what I can only describe as a hysterical yelp. I had thought her flawless before, but the instant red mark now adorning this ridiculously vulnerable part of her anatomy is one of the most gratifying visions I've ever encountered. It's not a flaw. It is a patent enhancement - and I feel duty bound to further enhance. Five more blows follow in quick succession, and I know that I'm supporting her from falling forward onto the table entirely through my hold on her bonds. 

"There now, shall we try again beautiful?"

She offers only some very enjoyable whimpering. Three more strikes to the deepest red and she finally screams the affirmative.

"Yes what? You want daddy in here?" 

I press my finger ever so slightly in once more -- and once more she's clearly none too pleased.

"Yes," she manages pathetically between sobs. I can't contain my chuckle. 

"Good girl."

Using my hand to guide her, I pull her slowly but firmly into position. Her legs are bent in such a way that they're supporting far more of her weight, and I linger for a few moments; enjoying the knowledge that they must be getting a little sore, and moreover, that she knows the only relief for them is going to be a rather more unpleasant alternative. 

"And, down you come," I sing playfully as my head forces its way into the tightest place I'm sure any man has ever been. It's borderline uncomfortable for me, so I can only imagine the pain my poor little girl is in right now. The scream I'm met with gives me some indication. Thank fuck we don't have any neighbours. I offer her little chance to recover as I proceed to pull her further down, eliciting an agonised moan which vibrates throughout her whole tensed form, and lasts long after she's firmly on my lap with me entirely embedded into her misused little hole.

I let her sit there for a few minutes as I delight in every aspect: her tightness, her violent shaking, her sobbing and moaning, her humiliation. She's just perfect. I take the opportunity to reach around her and cup one of her charming breasts. She shudders as I lightly stroke across her nipple, and groans beautifully as I pinch it firmly, before grasping her hip.

"Now then sweetheart, time for you to bounce on daddy's knee." 

Her reaction combines a retch, some shuddering and a whole lot of dramatic head shaking. I can't help but smile as her response aptly confirms how much of a sick fuck she now knows I am.

"Hmmm... Well now angel, I'd say you've got two choices. You can stand back up, have your poor little ass smacked again until you're begging to sit back on me, or you can be a good girl and do as you're told now. 

"Hush, hush, I know, I know baby. You can even start out nice and slow, how does that sound beautiful?"

Truth is, for my own sake I think this is something which requires easing in to. She doesn't say a word, so when she starts lifting herself up -- gasping loudly as she goes -- I'm not sure which way this is going. Frankly, either option suits me rather well, so I let her move freely. Well, in a rather loose sense of the word at least.

My eyes roll back in my head quite in sync with her subsequent downward movement. I'm pretty impressed that she takes all of me back in again without direction. I guess she really didn't enjoy that little smacking session at all. I adore that she's currently under the impression she can somehow avoid another one; it'll make it all the more delightful when I beat her ass once this is over, and I've recovered all of my strength, of course. Nevertheless, her reanimation pace is a little too slow, even for easing in to it, so I give a little encouraging thrust which achieves both the desired motion and cry. She finds a remarkably satisfying rhythm, complemented by a fixed, perfectly agonised moan.

"There we go. Such a good girl."

There is a definite truth in that sentiment, and no matter how much I want to prolong her ordeal, and my simultaneous elation - no man could last long were they seeing, hearing and feeling what I am. 

"Would you like some of daddy's come in here as well?"

"No daddy, please don't," she somehow manages between moans; still dutifully fucking me with that perfect little ass. 

"Aww, wrong answer beautiful."

With that, I pull her viciously down onto me. She clearly wasn't prepared for it, and her pained squeal is all I need to push me over the edge. She struggles to lift herself off of me, but it only serves to fuel my determination to fill her in this evidently, distinctly unpleasant way. My grip on her wrists and hip ensures that she's entirely penetrated, and entirely immobile. 

In the end - and I'm not sure how long after I came - she stops squirming and quietens down a little. I release my grasp of her entirely, and am semi-surprised when she doesn't move. I wonder if she's merely considered that the damage is already done. Perhaps even that a pre-emptive departure is probably not worth the risk. Or maybe she simply can't move. In any case, I've got things to do, so with my hands around her waist I pull her up and steady her on her feet, which clearly have insufficient leeway to achieve steadiness without assistance. Once I'm out from behind her, I guide her slowly back down, and I'm more than a little gratified at her wince when she makes contact with the hard wood.

"So sweetheart, breakfast?" 



Poppy Ch. 03



The next morning, she awoke to the birds again, but this time she felt Him watching her. 

"Good morning," He said as she, startled, turned her head to Him. She quickly sat up in bed for Him. "I trust you slept well?" 

Her eyes were on the bedspread, but she nodded in reply. She couldn't help but bite her lip as she thought about yesterday. She had surprised herself and taken His anal toy with gusto and literally collapsed out of sheer exhaustion from the excellent fucking she received. 

"You behaved very well yesterday." He said, reading her mind. "I am pleased." She glanced upward, quickly meeting His eyes with a smile tinged with both embarrassment and joy from pleasing Him.

As she cast her eyes down again, she noticed a dress draped over the foot of the bed. He, of course, noticed her gaze.

“We are having a guest today.” He explained. He lift the dress by the spaghetti straps so she could see it was a sun dress made of a sheer material. Very sheer material. She also noticed there wasn’t any undergarments laid out for her. 

“I’d like you to wear this. I think he will like it.” Inwardly she tensed. Their “guest” was another man? Several thoughts raced through her mind. Would He make her perform for this guest? Would they take her together? Again, He read her mind.

“Our guest,” He paused with a smile. He was evilly enjoying teasing her and watching her begin to panic. “is an older gentleman who is an old friend of the family. He knows nothing about our relationship.” He pointed between Himself and her as He spoke. “I am not going to tell him anything since he does not need to know. We will be sitting on the veranda in the backyard. I want you to busy yourself walking and sunning in the gardens and the flower paths. You may also stop by the library and choose a book to read. You are to only wear the dress. Do you understand?”

Dutifully she nodded. She relaxed, know that this wasn’t another test for her. She would actually enjoy being outside, and how exciting it would be sitting out there, albeit practically nude, with two men watching her. She started to smile.

“Now, as far as your test for the day,” He began. Her smile threatened to go back into hiding. “This will be inserted into you.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a plastic egg. 

"Go ahead and do your morning ritual. When you are finished, eat and then lay face-down on the bed. I shall return." 

She got herself out of bed and dutifully headed for the shower. She got ready quickly, feeling the need to be ready when He got back. Again, when she came out, she found a food tray on the floor. She quickly finished her fruit and yogurt and then went to her bed. Straightening the sheets, she laid down on her stomach as ordered. She might have fallen back to sleep if she hadn't been keyed up about today. A guest, being able to wear clothes and a new toy inserted, all of it together made her heart thump harder. 

Presently, she heard His approach. 

"You have a beautiful butt, Poppy." She heard Him say as He came in. She smiled to herself. "I'm going to be inserting the egg into you anally. The short wire hanging off the end is a antenna for the remote control. The egg vibrates and can be turned on from several feet away. You will wear it while you are outside today. You are not to show any reaction to it, since our guest does not know of your training. You must relax as I push it in." 

Again she felt the warm lubricant He applied to her anus from the heated bottle. She heard Him snap on rubber gloves, then felt His finger gently begin to massage her anus. She felt fine at first, no discomfort, until He began to penetrate her with His finger. Then her muscles back there hurt with the same sort of dull soreness she felt after working out too hard. She tried not to tense herself back there, but her rectum involuntarily squeezed His finger. She suddenly felt the same fullness she felt as when the vibe pounded into her the day before. She tensed it again. 

"You are enjoying this aren't you?" He almost laughed. "Lay still and see if this still feels good." He commanded. She stopped moving and felt His finger slowly push its way into her behind all the way. He stopped once He was all the way in, and let her feel it. He had to be bigger than the vibe yesterday, and she was taking it without discomfort. Slowly He began to pull it out and twist it as He pushed back in. Moving in long strokes, He opened her up, preparing her for the toy. Once He noticed she was beginning to raise her hips up to meet Him, He decided she was ready. 

"Prepare yourself, Little One, I will now put the egg into you." She felt Him remove His finger, heard the top of the lube bottle open. After a long minute, she could feel a new presence at her anal entrance. Slowly she felt it press against her, felt herself open up more. Her head jerked up off the bed. She was being entered so slowly it drove her nuts. She was turned on more than she ever knew. She was going to serve Him again and make Him proud. The thought made her wet. She was pleasing Him and being turned on by it, plus what she was doing was so dirty. Her breathing became rougher. She felt a moan escape her throat as the majority of the toy was in her. Suddenly she felt herself close around it. It was all the way in her. 

"Very good." He commented standing. "Lets give it a test." He took a small remote control out of His pocket. Setting it on the lowest setting He turned it on. 

She could feel a warm, soft humming in her rectum. It vibrated her bottom with a dull presence that she could just feel in her vaginal area. A higher setting would no doubt reach her clit. She couldn't even feel the thin wire trailing out of her anus. 

"Can you feel that? Or should I go higher?" He asked playfully. She looked to Him, trying to remain in her subservient position and gave a quick smile. She was really beginning to feel the vibrations. She smile turned to a gasp as He tapped the setting higher for a moment, then backed it back to low. 

"Don't want to waste it all here. Get dress and join me outside." He shut it off completely and left. She hated to lose that feeling of the vibrations in her butt. 

She continued to lay there, letting the wave of pleasure dissipate. When her breathing became normal she slid off the bed and put on the sun dress. Looking at herself in the mirror she could easily see her breasts through the fabric. Being outside in the sun, she knew He and His guest would be able to see everything. As she thought about it, she found herself not concerned by it. She was serving Him. 

She stopped by His large library on the way to the backyard and selected a very old looking book of poetry. Steeling herself to walk out in front of them, she walked gracefully, with her head up out onto the terrace. He sat in one of two large wicker chairs. The remote sat on a small wicker table between them. Noticing He was alone, she dutifully stopped, faced Him, brought her hands together behind her and lowered her head. She hoped He enjoyed seeing her breasts through the dress. Standing in the sun they were plainly visible as she had thought, as she had hoped. 

"Make yourself comfortable out in the grounds, but do not go where I cannot see you. My guest has not arrived yet." He instructed calmly. He did seem to be looking her over while she stood there. She let Him look, then turned and walked barefoot down the stone path. She decided He probably wouldn't do much with the remote until His guest had arrived. She walked along the path until she got to a large flowerbed with a stone bench and sat in the sun. 

Sitting on the bench, she could just feel the thin wire from the egg trapped under her against the bench. Crossing and un-crossing her legs tugged and released it. She began to enjoy feeling it move inside her. She was getting very excited. She coyly played with the book of poetry, pretending to read and shooting quick glances at Him. He was watching her, a smirk on His face, His chin resting in His hand as He studied her. He caught on quickly to what she was doing. He could add to her pleasure by giving her a soft, low hum from the vibe inside her, but He decided to make her go without, for now. 

She continued to shift on the bench, holding the book in front of her as she purposefully displayed herself to Him, opening her legs wider than necessary. She felt a small buzz from the vibe, showing that He liked what He saw. She started, and gasped slightly, then remaining subservient kept her eyes down but grinned. 

After a moment more she did it again, lingering with her legs apart, knowing He was looking. She was rewarded with a longer buzz. She knew it was coming and so didn't jump, but still was surprised at the strength of it, and the sensations it was giving her. She could feel the muscles in her rear warm and begin to beat with her pulse from the stimulation like they had in response to being penetrated by His machine yesterday. Clinching herself, she could almost recreate the feeling of fullness she felt once the thin vibrator had pumped itself into her anally. Then it had begun to drive itself into her, pulling out almost completely then driving itself back deeper. Each thrust was harder than the last and she found herself unbelievable turned on. She had never felt sensations like she had being anally penetrated. She grew to love the vibe in her, pushing back (as much as she could being restrained to the table) so that she could feel it go deeper. She had gotten so wet, she could feel the moisture running down her thighs. In response she began pushing her pelvis into the padded cube she rested on doggy-style. Her slickness caused a wonderful slippery feeling as she ground her sex into the cube, trying to stimulate her clit further. 

Without realizing it, she had closed her eyes during her daydream and her legs un-crossed. Not spread enough for Him to see anything, but it still gave Him an idea of what was going on. Lightly, He started the vibe in her anus. 

She leaned back on the bench, drinking in the sunlight, her eyes shut reliving yesterday. The stimulation was adding to her remembrance and she felt her wetness start again. She carelessly set the book aside, forgotten, as she added the sensations to her memory. 

As the thrusts became long and steady yesterday, she felt it build. She was bucking against the straps holding her in place, every muscle in her tensing. She could feel the heat of her sex rise as she began to clench her teeth, trying hard to push herself over the edge. Slowly, teasingly it built up, forcing her to take it on the machine's time. She would only cum when it let her. She needed it bad. Mashing her clit against the box had been good but the feelings in her anus were new and different. And getting stronger. She loved it, being so dirty. It was a naughty, disgusting thing she would never let herself enjoy and she wanted to cum so badly from doing it. She began rocking on the table in time with the machine's thrusts, forcing it deeper into her. She could feel her sex begin to tighten, felt the non-stop pounding the machine was giving her. 

For once she could take her time and enjoy every ounce of pleasure it was giving her. She didn't have to worry about it pumping her a few times and then cumming and crawling off of her. She never wanted to seem ungrateful to her previous lovers so she learned to accept the lack of satisfaction. 

Now, here on His table, that had changed. She was going to cum and cum harder than she ever had. She could feel it, her vaginal walls contracted so tightly she thought they cramped. She could feel it building in her entire midsection as the anal vibe pumped into her steadily. The constant thrusting into her, the warm slick wetness between her and the cube. Then suddenly it started. A strangled cry caught in her throat. She had forced her eyes to open, seeing stars as they rolled in her head. She began to pant, breathing in deep ragged breaths as she filled and emptied her lungs with a guttural groan with each thrust. She felt sudden wetness spray her lower legs and realized she had cum on herself. That had never happened before, she pondered, but she never felt orgasms as strong and luscious as this before.

She thought about this sitting on the bench in the garden, for there was no rational thought yesterday in the playroom, only her animalistic passions. 

Re-thinking about all the new sensations slowly brought her back to today. She was wet and wanted to relive more of her experience while she pleased herself. Her hand began to slide under her dress when something reminded her of where she was. She wanted it badly, but forced herself to sit up and opened her eyes lazily.

She froze, the color drained from her face seeing the sight before her. He was standing, holding a drink, His other hand in His pocket. Next to Him was a tall, older gentleman, well dressed, also holding a drink. The older man reminded her of Sean Connery, with his iron grey hair and dark mustache. Both were currently watching her, both with big smiles. 

Quickly she composed herself, humiliated, dropping her gaze and lowering her dress as she closed her legs. She could feel a heat on her face that was not from the sun. 

"Poppy," He called to her. "Come and meet my guest, my dear." 

Dutifully she stood, smoothed her dress and walked forward. She was so embarrassed and not knowing if He might be upset by her actions made it worse. She knew this guest didn't know about their "relationship" so He couldn't talk about punishing her while His guest was here. She would be forced to wait. 

Her legs were on automatic, carrying her forward, as she began to breathe harder. A million things went through her head. Could they tell what she was doing? Of course He could, but what about this "guest"? Did He tell him? How would He explain her being here? 

Stepping onto the veranda she remembered her nudity was visible through the sundress. Because she knew she had to have displeased Him, she felt she didn't deserve to be embarrassed and forced herself to walk right up to the new arrival. She smiled sweetly, feeling his quick glances all over her body as he took her hand and kissed it. 

He introduced His guest as an old friend, a man who also "enjoys the finer things in life". She was polite and played the gracious host, making small talk with him but of course only when spoken to. 

She looked to Him as she conversed, trying to read His expression. He calmly sipped His drink and smiled at her, pleased. 

"You may go back to the sunbench and your book, Poppy." He finally told her after a few minutes of pleasantries. She lowered her eyes before looking to Him and acknowledged Him a small nod. 

"Although you will be the most lovely flower in the whole estate." His guest replied. She smiled self-consciously and turned to go. She knew both would be watching her and her exposed backside. She gave them a treat and slowly walked along the sun-backed bricks back to the bench. 

When she got back, she noticed a damp spot she left on the bench itself. She grinned to herself sheepishly. She hadn't realized she had gotten herself that worked up. Leaning over, she retrieved her book and moved down a bit. 

A light breeze stirred her sundress and she shivered. Realizing for the first time, her thighs were wet also. The cool breeze felt cooler on her damp skin, and she noticed a wet spot on the front of her dress where it had fallen between her spread legs. She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed! Sitting down quickly, she turned to look at the two men. 

Watching her, they both smiled at her, His guest even raised his glass saluting her. She may not of noticed but they surely had! She dropped her eyes and reopened the book, ashamed. She had practically wet herself like a child. Could they see her moisture running down her legs as she stood displaying herself to them. He must be very disappointed with her. She knew He liked His women to act lady-like and cultured and there she stood gushing at them. She might as well have laid on the veranda with her legs obscenely pointed in the air. She fought down the urge to cry. 

Sitting there, chastising herself, she tried to concentrate on the book deciding she didn't deserve to continue pleasing herself. A low chuckle from the men made her look over the edge of her book. Both of them were still watching her. Instead of making her feel embarrassed, they smiled at her trying to show her it wasn't as bad as she thought. He even shook His head at her, in His disbelieving way. 

She couldn't help but let her emotions pop out in a small, teary laugh. She dried her eyes and felt better. 

Deciding to give them a show, she laid back along the bench, relaxing on one elbow and drawing her legs up onto the bench. Laying stretched out across it, she knew they could see all of her in the bright sun. 

Losing herself in the old poetry, she found herself getting sleepy. Rolling over onto her tummy, she let the sun warm her back and buttocks, knowing He enjoyed seeing her backside. As she rolled, she felt the faint hum of the vibe in her start. He was enjoying the show. Once she was on her stomach, the hum intensified. She lifted her abdomen off the bench with the pretense of smoothing out her dress under her, but instead arched her back slightly and thrust her rear into the air a little for them.

She was rewarded with a sharp increase in the vibe’s stimulation. 

His guest had to notice something was going on. What was He telling him?

She was half embarrassed at her own brazen display but at the same time she never felt as attractive and sexual. She tried humping the air with a few small thrusts again, and again felt a heavy thrum from the vibe. It didn’t matter if she was embarrassed by her wetness from earlier, her pussy had a mind of its own and she felt it gush. 

She found herself beginning to quiver with desire. She wanted to be filled so badly, she didn’t care where. Just so she could feel the weight of Him on her, hold Him close, drink in the scent of His aftershave, immerse herself in all that was Him. She fantasized about Him taking her right there on the bench as the vibe softly slowed and turned off. Her mind wouldn’t turn off though, she couldn’t almost feel His presence as He came to her....

Interrupting, she heard the men stirring and opening her eyes, saw them stand. They shook hands and spoke their farewells. Knowing her place, she came over, eyes lowered and bade their guest farewell. Again the older gentleman kissed her hand goodbye and commented on her loveliness. Still embarrassed, she could only smile, not making eye contact. 

As he turned back to his host, he thanked Him for the hospitality and winked as he glanced at Poppy. 

When He walked His friend to the door, she remained standing on the veranda. She felt He would want to talk to her. She was right.

"Poppy, I am disappointed in you." He said returning. He saw that she lowered her head further. Actually He was trying hard not to grin widely. He found that He rarely needed to punish her, she did a very good job herself. 

"Was it your goal to act like a little slut?" He asked her, more hardness in His voice than He could ever truly feel toward her. With her eyes downward she couldn't see the smirk on His lips. She shook her head. 

"Was it your goal to embarrass me in front of a guest?" Again she shook her head. He could see the tear welling in her eye. 

"Good," He said sharply. "Because my guest was quite taken with you." He said in a softer voice. "In fact, those last vibrations while you laid on your stomach were from him. He enjoyed the show." 

She raised her eyes in surprise. She could hear the humor in His voice and knew He wasn't upset with her after all. 

"You did a very good job of entertaining. He asked if he could come and see you again." He said sitting back in His chair. Reading her mind He continued. 




Poppy Ch. 04



The next day, Poppy awoke to a grey-skied morning. She showered and prepared herself for the coming day, but even though her breakfast tray was there as she exited the bathroom, she didn't see any sign of Him. 

She remained on the floor, just in case for almost an hour. When He hadn't shown up, she decided to busy herself until He did. 

Finding the poetry book she had gotten from the library the day before, she sat in a large, high-backed chair in her room, nude as usual, and read. She tried not to think about yesterday, a small smile playing across her lips as she read the same page she tried to yesterday, reminding her of the time out on the bench. 

She had acted like quite the randy little slut yesterday. Dropping the book to her lap, she thought about Him and His guest and the little display she had put on for them. Thoughts of her exposing herself to them and then masturbating in the chaise lounge made her smile widen, and she felt a tiny but unmistakable twinge in her sex. Mentally talking to her sex drive, she reminded it she couldn't give in to wild passions today and must be ready for Him whenever He appeared, and turned back to her book. 

She lazed away the afternoon reading and watching the angry grey clouds rolling by outside, wondering if He was ever going to make an appearance. She only stirred once, when something disturbed her, and she realized she had dozed off. Looking around she could not find the source of the noise, but noticed that a lunch tray had been brought in for her while she was asleep. Rising from her chair, she also saw that something black had been draped over the end of the bed. 

Passing her lunch, she walked to the bed to inspect the black object. Coming around the side of the bed she also noticed a small box on the floor. The black object turned out to be a dress, a black evening dress, very stylish and made almost perfectly to her size. Underneath it lay a gauzy black wrap, but (she smiled) again no undergarments. 

Thankfully, she noticed as she held the dress up to herself and examined herself in the bedroom mirror, the dress was not the sheer, see-through material as before. 

The box on the floor contained a pair of black high heeled shoes, a very expensive, designer brand at that. She had to wonder if He might be throwing a party and she was invited. Certainly this was much dressier than the sundress that didn't hide anything, and walking barefooted in the flower garden. 

She pondered what He may have in mind for her as she walked over and sat down to her lunch. Sitting on the tray was a small note addressed to her. 





Poppy, (it read) 

I can't be with you today, but I hope to be back tonight. Prepare yourself, as I plan on taking us out to dinner tonight. Dress in the clothes laid out 

for you and I will be back to collect you at 7:30. 





Her eyebrows raised as she read and re-read the note from Him. She could tell it was from Him, it had His scent on it and she gave it a long sniff, drinking it in. A happy grin appeared as she set it down so she could glance at it as she ate. 

She was so excited, she almost felt giddy. Dinner, with Him. A night on the town, she figured He wouldn't end it just there, then who knows what else. She could imagine anything He arranged had to be lavish and romantic. She couldn't imagine Him doing things any other way. Other romantic ideas dancing through her head. Would He take her dancing? A moonlit walk on the beach? She would settle for a night in a cheap motel just so she could finally get some sexual relief! She laughed silently to herself, stifling the noise. She had felt the silence in the house all day gave it the feeling of an old library where no loud noises were the allowed. 

How would she ever busy herself for the rest of the day though? Finishing her tray, she decided she needed to totally occupy herself, lest idle fingers and a over-stimulated sex drive be left alone unsupervised. She wanted to save herself for Him no matter what He had planned. She decided to go to the library after lunch and try finding a big book to lose herself in. 

Finishing her lunch, she quietly padded to the door on the balls of her feet. Opening it silently, she strained for signs of anyone else in the house. It was at that moment she wondered if He had servants and if so why she hadn't seen any. She felt as though she needed to sneak to the library, but had no idea what she would do if she ran into anyone, creeping around His house, totally nude. 

Throwing caution to the wind, she stole down the hall, her bare feet lightly pattering on the wood floor as she hurried. Once inside she shut the large, heavy door with a thud. 

Glancing through the old, cracked spines of the books in his collection, she found one she thought was fitting the occasion, Lady Chatterley's Lovers. 

Half not trusting herself not to give in to the lust-filled pages and half gleeful with excitement, she chose the book and headed back to her room. 

Shutting herself off in the bedroom she curled up on the over-sized chair again and got lost in it's pages. 

A low rumble of distant thunder made her look up quickly. She realized it was 5 o'clock already and she would need to start getting ready. Laying the old book carefully aside, she headed for the bathroom and a shower. Standing under the hot spray, she thought about where He might take her. All she knew for sure was that the book had gotten her even more excited, if that was possible. 

She made sure to shave everywhere and wash her hair. Getting out, she thought about styling it differently, but she knew He liked it the way she had worn it the day she got here so she decided against it. She dried her hair, brushed it several times into place and applied a little eye makeup. She knew He preferred a natural look. 

Walking naked from the bathroom to the bed, she found a black garter and a pair of nude-toned stockings had also been laying under the black wrap. She slid on the stockings, becoming more nervously anxious as the time drew nearer. Putting on the garter without panties seemed strange, but it was what He wanted and she dutifully obeyed. 

The dress fit her perfectly. She didn't really need a bra, the dress giving her some support, and since she wasn't overly endowed she didn't need much. A quick spritz from one of the antique perfume bottles on the vanity and she slipped her feet into the high heels, finally draping the wrap over her shoulders. 

Looking at herself in the mirror she could hardly believe the look. Very sophisticated, yet sexy. Going without panties also gave her a thrill. She knew He would know but that no one else would. Fussing with her hair, trying to waste those last pesky minutes, she jumped at the soft rap on the door. 

Opening the door, He stepped in. He was dressed in a formal suit, looking impeccable and smelling even better. He smiled widely at her, glancing up and down her form as she turned slowly from side to side with one knee forward showing off, her head lower. 

"Very nice," He said in reply. Still feasting His eyes on her, He stopped at her face. "Poppy, I can think of only one more thing that would complete your ensemble. If you would permit me.....?" He said drawing His hand from behind Him revealing a long, maroon colored, velvet box. 

Her eyes began to widen, and she quickly turned her back to Him. Standing in front of the mirror she watched as He opened the box behind her, and withdrew and item. She closed her eyes in anticipation as she saw His hands begin to raise over her head. She felt the tickle of a necklace encompass her neck and His soft, warm hands connecting the clasp behind her. 

"Open your eyes," He softly whispered into her ear. 

The first thing she saw was the large diamond pendant that hung from a delicate gold chain around her neck. She couldn't help but gasp. She wanted to thank Him, to throw her arms around Him and hug Him, but she held her place. 

"Do you like it?" He asked in her ear again watching her in the mirror. Tears of joy welled in her eyes as she nodded. "Well, then, since you look perfect now, I think we should be on our way." He said, presenting His arm for her to grasp and leading her out of the bedroom and outside to the car. 

The restaurant was busy but not crowded. Almost all of the tables were filled, but there seemed to be a unspoken rule against disruptive noise and everyone spoke in hushed tones so as to not disturb the atmosphere. 

Perhaps it was the large, scalloped-backed chairs that were seated at the tables. Poppy noticed no table had more than two chairs and that the high curved backs gave the couples privacy and kept them centered on each other. This was a place for lovers. 

He, of course, ordered for her, making an excellent choice. The food was phenomenal. She had never ate this well, or this much rich food. 

"I have a little surprise for us after dinner." He said to her as the dinner plates were removed. 

She couldn't help but smile and bounce her foot in excited apprehension. She almost called the maitre de over with the check herself. 

Back in the car, she could barely sit still. He chuckled and placed a warm hand on her leg. Used to His touch, she looked to him and smiled back. 

"Nervous?" He questioned. She debated whether or not to play coy and not answer, but in the end she nodded. 

"Excited?" He asked. She turned to Him and gave Him a glance as if to say 'What do you think?' Suddenly, she felt His hand start to slip up her leg ever so slowly. She crossed her arms in mock defiance determined not to show a reaction. His hand moved incredibly slow. She turned away, feinting disinterest, but had to bite her lip. 

Purposefully, He used only the slightest touch of His fingertips to trace up her thigh past the stocking-top, pulling her dress higher as He went. Touching the bare flesh of her leg were the stocking ended gave her a shiver, but still she pretended He wasn't driving her nuts. As He got high enough to see that she, indeed, wasn't wearing panties, she had a playful surge of bravado and crossed her legs. She still wasn't looking at Him, and for a second, she hoped she hadn't crossed the line. 

Instead, she heard His low chuckle. 

"Okay, little one," He said. "I'll leave you alone, for now." with another chuckle. 

Watching out the car window, she saw them pull down a busy city street. She knew this area was touted as being a playground for people with too much money, several prosperous night clubs and casino/hotels were located here. She saw they were slowing as they came up to a neon-lighted club front. 

Club Blue was glowing from the sign above the door in dignified blue letters, as the car door was opened. A uniformed doorman took her hand as she stepped out and onto the curb. 

She really didn't see Him being the nightclub type, but she got the idea this wasn't the typical bass-thumping nightclub. 

Entering the lavishly decorated entryway, it reminded her of a 1920s gentleman‘s club. She could see several square tables, all with long white tablecloths and small lamps with blue shades, along the walls out in the low-lighted main room. The walls were decorated in blues and large, old fashioned portraits. The light buzz of chatter and the occasionally laugh filled the air barely over the melody of a small orchestra up at the front of the room. The center of the room was a dancefloor with a ornate pattern of different types and shapes of exotic woods. 

People of all sorts seemed to frequent the place, several of different nationalities, but all seemed to have one thing in common, they were all rich. She could see in the low light expensive suits and women laden with jewelry. Everyone also seemed to be enjoying themselves. 

She saw at one private table a man and a woman in the throes of passion, he aggressively kissing her neck. Poppy stared as she saw the man slide his hand in the woman's designer blouse. She noticed Poppy watching and smiled slyly. The woman stopped the man, whispered to him, and indicated Poppy. The man then glanced in her direction and also gave her a smile while both of them looked her up and down. He made comment to the woman, who winked at Poppy. 

Poppy was startled, and looked away shyly. Suddenly, He was there and took her hand and led her toward the long oak bar. He ordered them drinks as He watched her watching the other patrons. She noticed some couples stand up together and lead one another to a carpeted staircase that led up to balcony. 

She stood gaping as she saw a couple sitting at another table close by. The woman had slid her chair closer to the man and the two were practically side by side. By the rhythmic hand motions the woman was making in the man’s lap, she was obviously getting to know him better. She was concentrating on what she was doing out of view, but Poppy noticed the man was looking back at her. He was a large man, dark complexion with black, slicked hair and mustache, possibly of Arabian decent, wearing a white tuxedo jacket. He beckoned her to come to his table. 

Poppy didn't dare, and gave a small shake of her head to the man. She reached forward and placed her hand on His arm to indicate she was with Him. Feeling her touch, He turned to face her and noticed her gazing over His shoulder. Turning, He saw the couple at the table just as the woman slid off her chair and under the tablecloth while the man smiled and waved in recognition of Him. 

Raising His glass in return, and He smiled back. Taking Poppy's hand, He brought her forward for the man to get a better look. The man nodded vigorously to show his approval and even gave a thumbs up. 

"This is a place where people with the same...tastes, can meet and converse." Turning back to her He explained. She grinned in surprise as she saw a tall shapely blonde woman greet a tall shapely redheaded woman at the door and the two kissed. It was a much more passionate kiss than two women normally trade when seeing each other. Eventually the two broke their embrace and joining hands, headed for the stairs. 

"Do you see anyone you like, Little One?" He whispered playfully in her ear as He leaned in from behind. 

She whipped her head around so quick she got a crick in her neck. Wide-eyed, she looked directly at Him. What did He mean? 

"Look around, see if you find someone that interests you." He said, as He pointed around the room with His glass. Studying her expression, He could read her hesitation. 

“Shall I choose for you?” He asked. She lowered her head.

Glancing around the bar, He surveyed several of the women. Poppy’s heart began to pound. What did He have in mind for her? Obeying Him at His home was no problem, they were home. She could relax. But now, here, they were out in the open. What would He make her do?

She watched Him examine the other patrons for a long, agonizing minute, then turn back to her. 

Using the hand His glass was in to point with, He grasped Poppy’s arm and turned her gently.

“What about her, Little One?” 

Poppy raised her eyes to follow His direction.

She sat alone at a table near the railing separating the seating area from the dancefloor and was a bit older than Poppy, probably around 35 if she had to guess. Short, reddish blonde hair that swept upward, with large dangly earrings. The woman had a bit more makeup on than she needed, and Poppy thought it may be to try and hide her age. Poppy thought she was attractive, but still didn’t know what He had in mind with her and this woman. 

She had on a creme colored silk blouse with a necklace of large black beads. Poppy could also see a couple of large rings on the woman’s hand as she waved her cigarette around while talking with a younger woman leaning on the railing. With the low-cut neckline of the dress the younger woman wore, Poppy could tell the older was looking down, watching her breasts. Suddenly, the younger leaned in further, the older leaned toward her and the two kissed as the younger departed.

"Tell her, Poppy. Explain that you are attracted to her. You are in training and you ask that she assist me in your training." He told her. She steeled herself, wanting to please. "Go, now." His hand was on the small of her back and He lightly gave her a push. 

She actually needed it. Mechanically, she walked toward the woman, at a total loss as to what she would say to her. Halfway there, the woman looked up and saw Poppy walking her way. Perhaps it was the terrified look on her face, or some hint of an attraction, but she locked her eyes on Poppy, watching her until she stopped right next to her. 

"Yes?" the woman said to Poppy after a minute of silence. 

Poppy fumbled with the words He had given her. 

"I am in training. I need...I'm here to find someone to help...He sent me here to ask if you would help in my training." She stammered. She looked down after she finally got the words out, waiting. Poppy felt the woman looking her over with an almost hungry look. Finally she replied. 

"You are very attractive. What's your name?" she said with a sidelong glance

"Poppy, ma'am." 

"Cute and courteous." The woman rose. "Lead the way, Poppy." 

Poppy walked in front of the woman, leading her back to His table. She knew the woman was watching her from behind. 

As the two of them reached the table where He was seated, she stopped along side Poppy and grabbed her butt, giving it a quick squeeze. 

Poppy stood watching as He made introductions and the woman sat in the circular booth next to Him. 

Only when told, did Poppy also sit. 

She felt in a daze. Not only did it appear that another person was joining them, but it was a woman. What would He make her do? What would He let her to do to Poppy? 

She sat in the booth, eyes lowered as the two of them sat chatting quietly. 

This new woman didn't seem to be His type. He sat, upright and dignified, calmly and quietly talking in His deep voice. She was giggly and loud, obviously after a few drinks, and leered at Poppy as they spoke. 

Poppy couldn't hear what was said, but she knew He must be telling her all she had done so far and explaining what He wanted from her. 

Not long after joining them, she was tugging on His arm, anxious to leave. Evidentially, between the alcohol and the talking, she was horny and interested in getting the party started. 

Poppy tried to play along, she walked behind them, feeling forgotten, out to the car. The doorman opened the door for them all, and the woman got in first sitting in the middle of the back seat. He sat on her one side and Poppy squeezed in on the other. 


On the trip back to His house, the two continued to chat and laugh. Poppy sat back, dutifully ignoring them. 

At the house, the three got out together and walked to the door. Once He had let them inside and shut the door, He interrupted the woman with a raised hand and turned to Poppy. 

"Poppy, you know the rules, now that we are back home." He indicated to her bedroom. She knew what he meant and walked to her room. 

Once inside, she began to undress, carefully laying the clothes back on her bed. Promptly she appeared at the doorway nude, nervously fiddling with her hands and looking at the floor. 

"There is my Beauty." She heard Him comment with pride. She took no comfort in it, however. She felt embarrassed and a twinge of jealousy as she stood there letting them gawk at her. The woman had come forward and joined Him, looking her naked form up and down. 

"I'm sorry to do this, my dear Poppy," He reached into His jacket pocket and removed a silk scarf. Reaching forward, He tied it around Poppy's eyes, blindfolding her. 

"There now," she heard Him say. "Poppy, lead the way to the Playroom." 

Walking in front of them, naked, she heard whispers and a giggle from behind her. She remembered being taken to the Playroom only a couple of days ago. It was were He kept all his restraints and toys and it was were she had been tied to a table and endured a glorious fucking from one of His machines that slowly pushed into her anally.