Note from Piper: This story contains a detailed description of childbirth.
Annabel Prince got out of the family car almost immediately after it came to a stop in the driveway of the family's new house. She was six-years-old and was going to get her own room in the new house, instead of sharing it with her four-year-old little sister. She was wearing her favorite blue striped tank top and her black jeans, which everyone said made her look very grown up.
She ran into Baron Hemphill and nearly knocked him over, as she rounded the car door and headed towards the house. "Hold it, Annabel, the house is still locked," her father called at her, as her sandals hit the sidewalk. "And apologize to this boy for running into him."
"I'm sorry Baron Hemphill," Annabel said, remorsefully, as she looked down at her feet.
"Don't worry, Mr. Prince," Baron said. "No harm, no foul."
Annabel looked back at the boy. She thought he had to be about ten. He was wearing green swimming trunks, and a pair of flip flops. A pair of golden framed glasses rested on his nose. Annabel wasn't quite sure how she knew his name. It had just come to her.
"I just wanted to come over to see the girl I drew," Baron said.
Annabel was puzzled. Why would he draw her? When did he draw her? She didn't think she had ever seen him before.
"Annabel is yours to command," her father said.
Annabel immediately felt a cold wave of air go through her on the hot late June day. Her father was going to make her obey this stranger? "No way," she said out loud.
"Yes way," Baron replied. "I think my first command will be you forgetting how to put clothes on. Enjoy wearing that, because it's the last clothes you will wear."
"As if you can make that happen," Annabel replied.
"Oh, I can," Baron said. "And someday you'll tell me that you are mine to do as I will. That day will be the end of your doubts and resistance. Until then, you can try, but my orders stand and will be followed."
Annabel had mostly forgotten about her conversation with Baron when her father sent her to go take her bath and get ready for bed. She brought her pajamas and a fresh pair of panties with her, putting them next to the sink, before she removed her clothes to take her bath. She liked soaking in the tub after she washed, and stayed in the deep water until it started to get cool. Then she got out of the tub, dried off, and picked up her clean panties.
Try as she might, she couldn't remember how to put them on. She looked at her pajama top, and her mind couldn't figure out how she'd put that on either, much less the bottom. She looked down at the sandals that she'd pushed off and left by the door. Annabel couldn't remember how she put them on her feet either. She knew how she'd removed them, but not how to put them back.
In a panic, she opened the door and cried out, "Daddy, I can't remember how to put anything on! Baron took it away."
"That's what he's supposed to do," her Daddy replied. "And you don't need to wear clothes anyway." He picked up her pajamas and panties and tossed them into the hamper.
"But Daddy..." Annabel said, as the hamper's lid closed.
"You don't need these," her Daddy repeated.
Annabel never got herself dressed again. She couldn't even think about how to wrap a towel around her body, much less button up a shirt. There was just something in her mind that prevented her from putting on clothes all summer, or even when she started first grade that fall. Her Daddy dressed her once, when Grandmother came to visit, but no matter how much she begged, he wouldn't do it for her when she asked.
Every time Annabel encountered Baron, she asked him to let her get dressed again. He never did. Instead she always found herself posing for him. She'd even danced for him. It turned out that he did actually want to draw her, and she soon found her room's walls filled with his sketches of her naked body.
"I've been naked, unable to get dressed for a year now, Baron, can you please let me know how to get dressed?" Annabel pleaded, as she stretched one leg to the sky and balanced herself against the tree in the Hemphill's front yard.
"Why would I?" Baron replied, his pencil drawing her furiously. "You're supposed to be naked at this point. No one said anything when you went to school that way, did they?"
Annabel shook her head. She hadn't been the only naked girl in her class. No one said a word about it unless she complained about being naked, and then they'd just tell her she was supposed to be that way.
"If I'm going to have you ready for your eighth birthday next May, though, I really need to give you more commands," Baron noted. "From now on, when you hear your full first name, you will find yourself getting more aroused, Annabel. By the fifth time you will be unable to stop from touching yourself, Annabel. The tenth time you will climax if you haven't already, Annabel. Your climax will reset you to zero, Annabel. Your body will grow used the feeling and will spend the next year preparing for full, successful, sexual intercourse on your next birthday, Annabel."
Annabel felt her pussy tingle with each repeat of her name. She couldn't stop herself from touching it. She sat down on the bench by the tree and began stroking her pussy, feeling it get damp, then wet. Each touch made her feel better, and desire more. There was nothing to stop her from reaching her peak. When she did, she cried out a wordless triumph, her fingers buried in her pussy. Her first climax left her body weak and sweaty in the summer heat.
"I think I captured that well," Baron said, showing Annabel his sketch of her in the middle of bringing herself off. "I'll probably do a lot more of these sketches."
"Please, don't," Annabel pleaded. "I don't want to be doing this all the time."
"That's what you're supposed to be doing, Annabel," Baron said firmly.
By the time she was called in for dinner, Annabel had climaxed three more times.
"So, Annabel, how was your day?" her Daddy asked.
Calling her in for dinner had been the fourth count, leaving her on the edge of feeling herself up. Now, she had to touch herself. "Baron did something to me," she said. "He made my name arousing to me." Without Baron's presence, she found that she could keep herself to a light caress of her pussy. "I came four times."
"You won't be able to count them soon, Annabel," her Daddy said.
She had to start dipping her finger into her pussy now during her caresses. "I don't want to."
"You're called Annabel by everyone," her Daddy noted.
Now she found her breaths coming in pants and she rubbed her pussy.
"I call you Annabel."
She moaned as her she started stroking two fingers in and out of her pussy.
"Your teachers call you Annabel."
Three fingers fit into her sopping wet pussy, as she moaned incoherently.
"Your sister even calls you Annabel."
With that, for the first time, her father made her climax by just saying her name. It would not be the last time it happened. Baron and her father wouldn't be the only one to do it to her either.
Even her five-year-old sister delighted in her ability to make Annabel stop whatever she was doing and make her climax. Annabel hoped that some day soon Isabel would get her own Baron. It wasn't fair that she was the only girl in the family to spend her time naked and sweating form her last climax. Whenever Isabel left Annabel that way, Annabel always told her that she would regret it someday.
On Annabel's eighth birthday, Baron met her at the bus stop. It was the second Friday in May, and Annabel was expecting things to get worse. After all, her name trigger had been set in preparation for the day.
"Your name is no longer a trigger for your arousal," Baron said. "Instead you're going to gradually get aroused during the day. You will not reset to zero, however, until I put my seed inside you."
Then the bus arrived. At first, Annabel was glad for the removal of the trigger, but she started to get warm down there, and couldn't stop herself from feeling herself. It was a habit now. She couldn't climax though. Ever touch made her want more, but she couldn't get what she wanted.
By the time she got off the bus after school, she was nearly insane with arousal, and went directly to the Hemphill house, seeking Baron out.
Baron was waiting for Annabel in his bedroom. It was the first time she'd seen him nude. His hard cock jutted out from his body, and she could not take her eyes off it as he guided her to his bed. He laid her down on his bed, and climbed up between her legs. Not a word was said as his twelve-year-old cock slid into her slick eight-year-old pussy. The feelings she'd build up over the day doubled and redoubled as he pumped his cock in and out of her. His hands seemed to be all over her body, touching her tender breasts, feeling her belly, touching just above where their bodies joined. Her world exploded, again and again.
Finally, Baron thrust deep into her, and she could feel his cock pulsing inside her. The feeling was overwhelming, and Annabel passed out in a enormous climax. She didn't wake up for ten minutes.
The room was empty when she woke up. She was laying on the bed, with a pillow under her bottom. Annabel took the time to look around the room. There were lots of sketches of her on the walls, but there were also paintings. The sketches were mostly of her, the oldest with her just naked, but the ones from the last year seemed to all have caught her in the middle of her bringing herself to climax.
The paintings, though, those were different. None of those had happened. The first was of her naked, standing by the moving van as it was unloaded. The second had her impaling herself on Baron's cock, as she moved herself up and down. His hand stretched out to caress her developing breasts. The third and last had her nursing a baby above an already again swollen belly and a pussy that was dripping something white.
"Someday, that will be you," she heard Baron say, as the bed shifted under his weight.
"You're going to make it happen to me, no matter how much I don't want it, just like you made me naked," Annabel replied.
"Early and often," Baron answered, before siding his cock inside her for the second time. "You won't be able to stop yourself, or me from doing this."
Annabel got her first period at school the next Monday morning. She had to wipe the blood off her seat. Her teacher helped her put in a tampon. It lasted until Thursday. Baron didn't make her have sex with him when she was on her period. He found it gross. Annabel had to agree. Now, though she had to worry that she might not get another period.
Baron seemed to be trying to make sure she wouldn't. He had her sleeping with him every night. Every school day she went off to school with a fresh load of his seed leaking from her. When she got off the bus, he was waiting to give her more. She'd heard that a girl wasn't regular with her periods when she first started, at least that's what she told herself when first a month, then a month and a half passed without another.
She tried to distract herself. It helped that Baron's little brother, Count, had told Annabel's little sister that she couldn't remember how to get dressed either, on the first day of summer vacation. She reminded Isabel what had happened to her, and what was probably coming, pointing to what seemed to be always leaking from her naked pussy.
By the time she started third grade that fall, though, she could no longer deny it. Annabel was having Baron's baby. The naked girl couldn't hide it; her body's changes were open to everyone's view. Her breasts were growing, and her belly swelling with her baby. She started to grow pubic hair, but then Baron told her not to, and it fell out overnight. She was surprised when that happened. He also told her she wasn't ever getting any taller than her four-foot-two. She didn't get any taller, and her pubic hair never came back.
Baron met Annabel when the naked, and greatly pregnant, eight-year-old had just come back from her appointment. "Did you ask the doctor what I told you to?" he asked.
"Yes," Annabel said, somewhat put out that he would even think she could not do what he said, after being almost three years under his control. "I'm due at full term in four weeks, but it's safe for me to give birth now. The doctor says it's better if I go earlier, rather than later."
"You're going into labor right now," Baron said. "You will be fully dilated in five minutes and give birth in thirty."
Annabel immediately felt her first labor pain, right there on her front lawn. It was so intense, that she fell to her knees. Baron moved her to a squatting position, as the next pain came. With the third pain, her water broke. An urge to push soon came with every pain. She felt her baby's head going through what she knew had to be too small, but she couldn't stop it.
Baron was holding her from behind as she pushed out his spawn. "You can do this, Annabel. Your body is ready to give birth. You will no longer feel the pain of labor, just pleasure."
With those words, the pain disappeared, and suddenly the same pleasure that went through her body when Baron entered her slowly to tease her began to rise. Each push of her baby down her pussy now felt like each thrust of Baron's cock up it to make their baby. She was now moaning as her baby's head crowned.
There in her own front yard, Annabel's baby boy slid out of her body. Soon she was nursing while Baron gently cleaned her up. "We'll start on number two next week," he said. It was only the end of February. It had taken just eight months for her eight-year-old body to produce her first baby.
"I can't stop you," Annabel replied, absorbed in the feeling of her baby sucking from her breasts for the first time. As she nursed her baby, she thought about the last three years, and how Baron had controlled her. As she reviewed how he'd taken her ability to get dressed, taken control of her arousal, and even her body's growth, holding the proof of his total control, she made a decision. "I am yours to do what you will."
With those words, her resistance ended. She no longer asked to learn how to get dressed again. She no longer protested his orders about her arousal. She spread her legs willingly when he approached her with his hard cock. And when Annabel got pregnant again, she thanked her master for filling her willing vessel.
