Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: The Heat Wave
Part: 12 of 25
Universe: The Heat Wave
Summary: Meet Cletus Putnam: landlord, entrepreneur, opportunist, sometime
Dom.  It's hotter than Hell and he has the only swimming pool and central
air conditioning in his little lower middle-class neighborhood -- and he's
not above taking advantage of that fact.
Content: MF oral anal M-dom spank exhib

Chapter 12

        "It's my fault!" Jean erupted.

        "Yes, it is," I agreed, "but that's almost irrelevant.  It's about
expectations, too -- and Karen expects to be punished.  If I DON'T punish
her, she'll have gotten over one time too many and there will be trouble
down the road -- trust me on this."  I headed up the hall.

        Pete made to follow, but I waved him off.  "You won't gain anything
by this.  There will be times when things need to be public, but this isn't
one of them.  You all stay upstairs."  Pete nodded and backed off; Kate was
even more reluctant, but she did, too.  I headed on down the stairs.

        Karen was right where she was supposed to be -- in her kennel,
peeking out.  That made things clear, from my viewpoint; if she'd just been
fooling around, she might have been anywhere downstairs.  She might have
tried to justify her actions, too -- but she didn't.  No, she was doing as
she was told, and waiting to see if I was going to do what was necessary to
justify her faith in me -- and at this point, the necessary tactic was to
bring smoke.

        I didn't disappoint.  I went over to the collection of goodies I'd
laid in and selected a wide, heavy leather strap, then turned to her,
letting her see it.  "Crawl over here."  Eyes wide, Karen did as she was
told.  "Jean was wrong -- but you were, too, weren't you?" I asked.

        "Yes, Cletus."

        "Put your head on your forearms, and don't fucking move!" I warned,
then, without further ceremony, I let her have it -- twenty-five good, solid
licks with the strap.  It left wide, red welts all over her ass -- some of
which moved on to purple.  I didn't take it easy, and I wasn't particularly
slow, so the burn built up quickly to an unbearable level.  When she started
to dance on her knees, I stopped and warned her -- twice -- before adding
strokes twenty-one to twenty-five because she wasn't holding still.

        Obviously, it hurt like a bitch; she was crying loudly by the time I
finished.  I had her follow me to the couch on her knees and climb up on my
lap, where I rubbed her back and ass and asked her if she was going to
behave and other silly shit designed to make it clear who was boss while
giving her a little post-punishment affirmation.  She blubbered and sniffled
and made promises and all was well with the world.

        Could I have handled it differently?  Sure.  There were probably any
number of ways to fuck it up -- and conversely, any number of ways to make
my point.  But this was the first big fuck-up -- and she needed to know that
I was on the job and she had standards to maintain.  I'd made a commitment
to her and I was going to fulfill it, one way or another.  Punishment needed
to be swift and merciless in order to ensure that she was very clear on what
to expect -- and I made damned certain it was.  It would save us a lot of
trouble down the line.

        Now, remember, this isn't the Dr. Spock book of child-rearing we're
dealing with here.  Would I have done this to ANY of the kids?  No.  But
Karen was in full submissive mode, and she didn't need Mr. Wishy-Washy, she
needed a master who would hold her feet to the fire.  I made sure she got
everything necessary.  Was it fair?  Fuck no!  But that didn't matter,
either.  A response was required -- I delivered it.  Period.

        When she'd settled down some, I had her get up.  "Go over and look
in the box and find a dog collar."  She did as she was told; the intent was
for her to see the tools I had acquired for her correction and control while
digging for a collar.  She got the point.  She came back with an item with
diamond-shaped studs on it and I buckled it on her neck.  "Now go figure out
what you have to do to give me a warm breakfast," I instructed her.  That
was all part of the deal, too; the teenagers upstairs would be abuzz over
her little adornment...

        You have to think about these things -- or at least, I do.  Psych
warfare isn't something you just do off the cuff.  Every move needs to be
thought about -- or you send the wrong message; every situation has nuances.
I knew I wasn't going to get it right one hundred percent of the time, so I
was going to have to build up an excess of respect that I could draw upon to
cover screw-ups.  I waited until she got to the top of the stairs to follow.

        The kids were more or less bug-eyed; well, I couldn't blame them.
"This is only the first episode of strange shit you're gonna see," I warned.
"Get used to it.  The rules that apply to her are not the rules that apply
to you, so don't think that I plan such things where you are concerned.
This is between Karen and me -- and you would be best off ignoring it as
best you can.  Understand?"

        "You hurt her!"  Heather was horrified.

        "Yeah, I did -- but I didn't HARM her.  She's not permanently
damaged.  Talk to her about it before you condemn me," I replied.  "This
isn't something you're going to understand -- it isn't what you might think
of as mainstream behavior.  But I have Karen's permission to do these things
-- remember that!  She can leave at any time!  I'm not blackmailing her,
like I am your momma -- she's a volunteer.  So you have to think she's
getting something out of this, you know?"

        "You're blackmailing Mom?" Heather gasped.

        "Sure.  Do you think she would behave herself if I didn't?"

        "Think about it, Sis," Michael piped up.  "He's just keeping her
head on straight.  You know how she gets."

        I nodded.  "The same thing applies to Karen -- the techniques are
merely different -- and the level of cooperation."

        Karen circled to my front and knelt before me.  "I should cook you
fresh eggs," she said carefully.

        "Over easy," I told her.  "Just two."

        "And toast?"

        "Raisin toast," I ordered.  "Dry.  I'll make the coffee -- I'm
particular about it."

        "Yes, Cletus."  She rose to go take care of business.

        "Are we going to see a lot of that?" Heather asked.

        "Quite a bit," I agreed.  "Once again, this applies to Karen and
Karen alone, at this point.  If it involves someone else, it probably won't
be anyone in this room."

        "So, you don't expect..." Kate said carefully.

        I locked eyes with her.  "Not at this time."  She got it.  If she
wanted to play, she was allowed -- but I didn't think she was ready yet.  I
flicked my eyes to Karen, "Put on the apron -- if I want your titties
burned, I'll do it myself."

        "Yes, Cletus!"  There were a couple of gasps from the younger set,
which I thought about quelling by chiding them about believing everything
they hear -- but then I remembered wax play and shut my mouth.  Jean came in
about then; I just looked at her and she dropped her eyes.

        "Karen, apologize to Jean," I ordered.

        Karen dropped what she was doing and went right over.  "I'm sorry!"

        I gave Jean a look; she got it.  "It was my fault as much as it was
yours -- maybe more.  Forget it," Jean told Karen.

        Karen flashed me a look; I waved it off.  "Okay.  Friends?" she
asked Jean.

        "Sure."

        Karen nodded and went back to my eggs.  I waved at the kids, "Hey,
if you don't have anything to do, we still have to empty the truck before
things get too hot..."  That put THEM in gear and allowed me to eat; Jean
went out to supervise.

        The truck was at least fully unloaded by the time I finished eating;
it would take a while to integrate things, but we could move on.  I got
dressed and drove the truck back to the rental agency, with Karen following
in the Saturn to bring me home.  Once that was done, we settled in to
attempt to enjoy the rest of Sunday.  Jean dragged her kids home after
dinner, much to their displeasure, but it did allow the Moffats to settle
in.  Pete had a bunch of boxes and crap to deal with downstairs, but seemed
more than satisfied with the trade-off for having his own little empire.

        Bedtime came and Jean didn't return, so I took Karen to bed, making
her blow me through one nut, then taking her anally, knowing that her ass
was still sore from the strap.  The purpose of the exercise (well, aside
from the two nuts) was to ensure that she was challenged properly, which
would keep her out of trouble.  If I seemed rough and unfeeling, part of it
was deliberate.  Besides, she LIKED it -- I gave her a little vibrator time
while I was poking her ass and she got off on it.  That being the case, I
might have been too easy on her -- only time would tell.

        Monday morning, Jean toddled off to work before I got up.  I waited
until around ten, then asked Kate to wander over and see how Michael and
Heather were getting on.  Michael came back with her after about ten
minutes.  "Hey, Sport!" I greeted him, "How's your mother?"

        "All over the place," Michael grunted.  "She's been bad, but you're
worse; we shouldn't come over here because you're evil, but she can't stop
us because she has no control of things any more.  I think she was up half
the night between the heat and her brain frying."

        "Where's Heather?"  Heather was off Mondays.

        "Dithering," Michael chuckled.  "Hopping from one foot to the other.
Mom tried to scare her and read her the Riot Act for sucking you, then tried
to talk to her about sex -- which just fucked up her head.  She's nervous,
but she knows Amy will give her crap if she gets all chicken-shit."

        I nodded, grunting.  I don't rape my women, but I was coercing the
living shit out of Jean; that made it a bit difficult to get up on my hind
legs and claim I was as pure as the driven snow.  "I'll go talk to her."

        I went and threw on a pair of shorts and some running shoes and
snagged a cup of coffee, then went and pounded on the Cantrell's front door.
Heather opened it cautiously, "Yes?"

        "Can I come in?  We need to talk.  I won't bite -- I promise," I
told her.

        She backed up.  "Mom says not to trust you."

        "Good advice," I agreed, "but probably for the wrong reasons.  From
my perspective, you mother's head isn't on quite straight.  Your mother is
afraid of men -- and it colors everything she says and does.  I know she's
working hard on making YOU afraid of men, too -- she calls it protecting
you, but it's more like she's scaring you to death."

        "You're blackmailing her," Heather accused.

        "Guilty as charged," I agreed, "but if she hadn't been making like a
voyeur, she'd never have gotten caught.  It's another hang-up she has -- an
indication that she's got issues and she isn't coping well.  I'm doing it
mainly to try to fix things by forcing her to get back in the saddle where
men are concerned -- but I admit that my reasons aren't squeaky clean; she's
a fine little piece of ass, okay?"

        "Okay.  What's this got to do with me?" Heather asked.

        "Well, I'd prefer that you didn't hold what I'm doing against me,
because I AM trying to help," I replied.  "Also, I want you to know that
you're as safe as you want to be around me.  Your mom is an exception, but I
generally don't force myself on my women -- and that includes Karen, visual
evidence to the contrary."

        "That's scary," Heather opined.

        "What could happen if Karen went hog-wild is even scarier," I
replied.  "I'm using discipline and some challenges to keep her from going
out looking for a new, kinky experience every night -- and having them get
kinkier and kinkier until she ends up in a ditch somewhere.  Talk to her
about it -- it's a little weird, but I'm trying to help her whole family,
because if she's stable, she won't lose them and Pete in particular won't go
off the deep end."

        "If you say so," Heather said dubiously.

        "Don't take my word for it."

        "I won't."  Heather puffed out a breath.  "Mom says you're worse
than Dad -- more manipulative."

        "Maybe I am.  Maybe she attracts my type," I replied.  "At least,
taking advantage of her isn't my ONLY objective.  If you look at things, I
think I've helped out occasionally."

        "Mom hates that," Heather ventured.

        "I'm not surprised," I replied.  "But she needed help and I was
there.  She needs a man in her life -- maybe not all the time, but on a
regular basis.  She needs someone to lean on -- and, frankly, someone to
fuck."

        "She's not sure about that."

        "If you'd seen her sexual response, you would be," I retorted.
"Jilling off isn't doing it for her -- and now that she's had a taste of the
good stuff, it'll be even less satisfactory.  The plan is more or less to
let her discover that on her own -- but if she's as stubborn as she tends to
be, we may have to rub her nose in it first."

        Heather grimaced.  "Who died and made you Mr. Fixit?"

        "That's a fair question," I replied.  "Nobody.  Your mother just
makes my dick hard -- and she's broken -- and I find the combination to be
irresistible."  I got up and headed for the door.  "Don't let her issues
become yours.  The door is always open -- and it swings both ways."  That
said, I let myself out.

                       ----------------------------------

        Next on the agenda, whether I cared to deal with it or not, was
giving Karen's notice.  We got in the Saturn and headed for her place, just
Karen and I.  I asked her who her landlord was, and she related to me that
the guy's name was Ignacio.

        "Ignacio Flores?" I asked.

        "Yeah, that's it."

        I knew Ignacio -- he was a member of the local Landlord's
Association.  He spent a lot of time bitching about his tenants -- but then,
he wasn't any too selective.  I think he liked drug dealers because they
tended to pay on time and in cash -- let' face it, drug dealers do NOT want
legal problems -- even an eviction notice.  Can you imagine having the
Sherriff's deputy show up at your apartment while you're weighing out nickel
bags?  Anyway, given Karen's neighborhood, Ignacio's name was one I was
unsurprised to hear.  "Great.  Let me handle this."  She directed me to
Ignacio's place.

        "Cletus?"  Ignacio got up from his office couch.  "What brings you
here?"  Then his eyes took in Karen and he frowned.  "You two know each
other?"

        "Yeah," I nodded.  "Look, Karen is moving out."

        "What?  Why?  Are you stealing my tenants?"

        "Well, it's not that simple," I replied.  "She's moving in with me."

        "Oh."  Ignacio pursed his lips.  "Well, I can't blame you.  I had
plans..."  He turned to Karen and asked harshly.  "What about my rent?"

        "Do you owe him?" I asked her.

        "No," Karen replied, looking nervous.  "I'm up to date."

        "It's the middle of the month!" Ignacio burst out.  "I suppose you
want..."

        "Keep the last, Ignacio.  Karen cleans buildings professionally, so
she will leave the place spotless," I interceded.

        "Deposit?" Ignacio grunted.  I just looked at him.  "What?" he
complained.

        "Okay, so why do you REALLY have the ass?" I asked him.

        He pulled me aside.  "She was gonna fuck up," he murmured.

        "Yeah?  And?"

        He eyed me.  "Why is she with you?  Are you...?"  He waved a
finger..

        "Come on, Ignacio -- you know I'm not the love and marriage type," I
growled.

        "Okay, well, I had plans for her."

        I raised my voice a bit.  "So, did you just plan to fuck her or were
you gonna have her peddle her ass on the street?"

        "Jeezus, Cletus!" Ignacio erupted, snapping a glance at Karen.

        "If you were gonna have her hook, well, sorry about that -- it isn't
happening.  But if you just wanted a piece, we can talk about it," I plowed
on.

        Ignacio froze.  "What?  What was that?"

        "Were you gonna have her pay late fees on her back?  It's a simple
yes or no answer, Ignacio," I pressed.

        "Well..."  He rolled his eyes up and down Karen and gave that liquid
shrug that Latin Lovers do so well.  Karen was in a red halter top and her
jean skirt, so there was stuff to look at.

        I chuckled.  "I didn't think you liked your girls chunky, Ignacio --
it never occurred to me."

        Ignacio shrugged, still eyeing the subject of conversation, who now
stood hipshot, her face composed.  "Eh, well, women are a case-by-case
thing, not something I categorize.  There was just something..."

        "Sure," I nodded.  "I don't pick 'em based on type, either."  I
turned to Karen, "Fuck the man."

        Everything kind of froze.  Things had been drifting in that
direction, but neither of them expected them to make the complete trip.
Karen eyed me for about three seconds, then said, "Yes, Cletus."  Turning to
Ignacio, she asked, "What would you like?"

        Ignacio shifted his eyes back and forth between us.  "No shit?"

        "One time -- wear it out," I confirmed.  "I figure you've got
rubbers, somewhere, right?"

        "Si."  Ignacio was too distracted to stay in English.  He headed for
his desk and went digging, surfacing a couple; I wasn't surprised.  There
had been comments at the Association meetings that made it pretty easy for
me to figure out what he was all pissy about -- and the gist of said
comments was that he periodically entertained in his office.

        "Do it up," I told him.  "Let me know where you're gonna work, so I
know which furniture to park my ass on."

        "Lock the door," he directed, his eyes not leaving Karen.  I was a
little miffed -- I'm not his office boy -- but, hey...  I turned the latch.

        "Let me see them," Ignacio breathed.

        I cleared my throat, and Karen flicked a glance at me.  "Make it
fun," I admonished.  Karen smiled and wiggled her shoulders -- and we both
watched Ignacio's eyeballs try to track her titties independently.  She
squeezed them together and offered them up to him and he settled into his
office chair, so I plopped on the couch.  He wheeled the chair around his
desk so he was out in the open, then waved his hands for her to continue;
she swayed up and bent over, bringing them to his face, pressing him into
her dangling cleavage with one hand for a moment while he made delighted
noises.  Then she backed off just enough to pull the halter over her head
before putting them back in his face.

        "Dios mio!" Ignacio gasped, palming her globes.  I watched him rub
his thumb over her left nipple, and watched it grow and the areole crinkle.
Then he sucked in the right one; Karen didn't complain.  Instead, she gasped
and held his head to her breast while he suckled.

        It took a couple of minutes before he moved on to wanting to see
what was under the skirt -- and he was surprised that there weren't any
panties under there, giving me a glance.  I grinned at him while Karen
rocked from low-heeled sandal-shod foot to foot, turning, presenting the
whole package for his gaze.  "Eh, sweet!" Ignacio murmured, his eyes
drinking it in.  Karen knew the drill; facing away from him, she spread her
legs and bent low at the waist and grinned at him from between her legs.
Ignacio reached up to palm her ass and rub it, then slide a finger along her
gaping pussy lips.  "You're wet..."

        "Sure..." Karen replied, her tone implying, 'Of course -- we're
going to fuck, aren't we?  I'm looking forward to it!'  Ignacio jiggled her
clit with the finger, eliciting a gasp from her, then directed, "Blow me!"

        Karen stepped forward and turned around and Ignacio stood so she
could open his pants.  Ignacio was stocky, but not fat -- just thick through
the middle; there wasn't a lot of belly overhang going on as she freed his
cock and balls.  Karen got him totally out of his pants so he would be ready
for action, then turned to me.  "Rubber?"

        "Not for a blow job," I replied.  She nodded and sucked him in.
Ignacio had a thick joint that didn't show a whole lot of length -- but he
wasn't totally erect.  I was generally amazed by such things, since I erect
pretty easily given visual stimulation -- and Ignacio had gotten plenty.  He
firmed right up, though, to something over five inches, but probably not six
-- which, given his girth, would probably give Karen an enjoyable ride.
Karen nodded over his meat, making liquid sounds, while he gasped and
grunted and danced -- it was entertainment...

        When he decided that the warm-up was over, Ignacio snatched a rubber
up off his desk and grunted, "Put it on..."  Karen took the thing and rolled
it on, taking a moment to get the thing oriented correctly so it would
unroll; it was obvious that they both hated the things as much as I did, but
I didn't know what kind of skanks Ignacio might be fucking and I wasn't
gonna start wearing them, so Ignacio would just have to deal with it.  "Bend
over the desk!" Ignacio directed, and I got to see more of his hairy ass
than I cared to as he quickly nosed his meat against Karen's opening and
slid home, then started pumping.

        I had a front row seat at an angle you didn't get every day; I was
used to watching a woman's ass shimmy while I busted it doggie-style, but
you don't get to watch the tits swing and jiggle from above and behind.
Ignacio went at it like he was killing rats, forcing little exclamations of
"Uh!" and "Oh!" from Karen on impact -- and I could tell she was loving the
whole thing.  They went maybe two minutes from start to finish; Karen raised
her head and yelled, "Omigod!  Omigod!  Fuck!  Fuck!" and threw herself back
at him and when her muscles started jumping Ignacio went nuts in her for
about five strokes and then slammed in deep.  He got all red in the face and
I wondered if I was going to have to call an ambulance, but he staggered
back after a second and swatted her on the ass before turning to me and
announcing, "She's a pig -- but it's still pussy, eh?"

        "Yep."  I just nodded.  He was trying to get my goat -- and
humiliate Karen.  No doubt, he'd done similar many times, and this was
almost a ritual for him; he'd probably humiliated a shitload of couples by
fucking some woman in front of her old man in trade for a few days' grace.
But he wasn't getting MY goat, and the more unaffected I was by the whole
thing, the more Karen would get off on the humiliation, so he more or less
played into our hands.  "Get that rubber off him and clean up his dick,
Slut," I directed Karen.

        She actually shuddered; she was as high as a kite on the whole
thing.  Life was going to be interesting...  I think she was going to pull
the rubber off with her teeth, but thought better of it; she had no problem
leaning in afterward and cleaning the excess off his dick.  "Even?" I asked
him, standing.

        "The security deposit?" he countered.

        "Gimme a break," I grunted.  "Fuck her again when she returns the
keys."

        "Nah," he waved it off.  I wasn't giving him his fun, so it wasn't
worth it.  "Are you out, Bitch?" he asked Karen, who nodded.  "Gimme the
keys now and hit the street."  Karen got up and fished in her purse,
removing her apartment keys from her ring and handing them to him.  "We're
done here," Ignacio announced, waving us off.  I could tell I'd moved up in
the pecking order as far as Ignacio was concerned; he was going to keep an
eye on me.  Well, that wouldn't hurt anything...

        I figured I might as well add to my drawing account in both banks.
"Gather up your shit and go get in the car," I directed.  Karen reached for
her skirt and made to step into it, and I rasped, "I didn't say anything
about putting it on!  Go sit in the car -- just like that!"

        Karen put her head down and made for the door, unlocking it and
letting herself out; you'd have thought she would be humiliated, but the
look on her face said I'd probably made her day.  I merely glimpsed it, and
Ignacio didn't see it at all, but it was there.  When she was out the door,
Ignacio looked at me and said, "I didn't see this coming."

        I smiled at him.  "We all get surprises from time to time.  See you
at the Association meeting." I waved genially and sauntered out.

        Out in the car, Karen was sitting in the passenger seat, naked --
and her clothing was in the back seat.  If I'd needed any verification that
I was on the right track, that was it.  I got in and pulled out into traffic
before directing, "Put your feet up on the dashboard and rub yourself off --
you've earned it!"  She got off twice -- and made several people's day from
the visual stimulation.  When we got home I parked out front and made her go
up the walk, rather than pulling directly into the garage; the character of
her obedience made it clear that she was happy with the whole thing.

        Once she was inside, it was time to handle the results of the
ongoing visual stimulation I'd been getting - so I bent her over the couch
arm and fucked her silly!  It probably wasn't the perfect thing to do with
Pete, Michael, Kate AND Heather in the house, but I was too far gone to
care.  When heads started peeking around the door facing, I waved and said,
"If this bothers you, go somewhere else!"  Michael didn't leave; Pete
bounced back and forth, and from the sounds of things, the girls sat in the
kitchen, listening, whispering, and giggling.  I didn't last for shit --
less than five minutes -- but the idea was to get my itch scratched and drop
a load and I did that just fine.  Karen got off twice; I couldn't decide
whether having Pete in the room was coincidence or the trigger, but he was
present and visible to her both times.

        That, of course, left me with two horny boys on my hands.  I could
put Karen on Michael, but she was pretty well used -- and I had nothing for
Pete, since Heather was virgin and not committed to anything.  "Sorry,
boys," I puffed, when sanity returned after the eruption.  Karen went to her
knees to clean me with her mouth without prompting -- noisily, as it turned
out -- so I was standing there with her head in my crotch while she dripped
cum on the carpet where she knelt.  "I don't have anything decent to hand
out for you to handle this with -- especially for Pete.  Why don't you two
go down to Pete's room and handle the problem -- and lock the door, so you
don't get any giggling audience!"

        "Yeah, that works..." Michael nodded and picked up Pete with his
eyes.  I heard the stairwell door slam.

        "Go get something to clean up the mess you've made on the floor and
to stanch the flow," I directed Karen, then followed her to the kitchen,
where my shrinking organ was a magnet for two sets of young female eyes.
"Shouldn't you two be swimming or something?" I asked.

        "Well, not really," Heather replied, still eyeing me.

        I waggled my hips and my dick flopped back and forth -- which caused
the pair to erupt into nervous giggles.  "As you can see, I'm not a threat,
momentarily," I chuckled.  "What brings you to my den of iniquity?" I asked
Heather.

        "I'm testing you," she replied.

        "No doubt I'm failing."

        "Well, I have to talk to Kate's mom, but things are definitely up in
the air," Heather admitted.

        "I'm going to go wash up before I make things worse," I grunted,
going into the refrigerator for tea.  Karen took one look at the pitcher
coming out and reached into the cabinet for a glass -- then went to her
knees to present it.

        "You're not clean enough?" she queried.

        I froze for a moment, then poured, then put the pitcher on the
counter.  "My armpits are a little sweaty.  Three ice cubes, please."

        Karen hopped up and put the glass down, then dithered before trying
to dispense three cubes into her hand from the icemaker -- which meant two
more hit the floor.  I watched all of this poker-faced; I'd triggered a
mess, so I could stand by while she got control over things.  The three
cubes went into my glass, the other two hit the sink, and Karen knelt to
present the glass.  I said "Thank you," collected the glass, and swept out,
wondering what Heather was going to think of Karen's absolutely slavish
behavior.  Time to check on the boys...