<html><head><title>4 Little Words - Text {Uther}</title>
IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18, or otherwise forbidden by law
to read electronically transmitted erotic material, please go do
something else.
This material is Copyright, 2004, Uther Pendragon. All rights
reserved. I specifically grant the right of downloading and
keeping ONE electronic copy for your personal reading so long as
this notice is included. Reposting requires previous
permission.
If you have any comments or requests, please E-mail them to me
at nogardneprethu@gmail.com.
If you save erotic stories and you prefer that other household
members not be exposed to them, I recommend that you use a file
zipped with the PKZip option -spassword. (Where the password
that you choose would, presumably, not be "password.") This
still leaves open to anybody the titles of the files and the
fact that they are encrypted
All persons here depicted, except public figures depicted as
public figures in the background, are figments of my imagination
and any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly
coincidental.
# # # #
4 Little Words
Uther Pendragon
nogardneprethu@gmail.com
Melissa Brandon was sure that Jonathan would be livid when he got
back. She had *tried* to do what he told her, but she hadn't
tried hard enough. He'd told her to pay up her Visa Gold. She'd
*almost* paid it up by the time the December statement had
arrived. And then, knowing that the next check would be the last
one, she'd neglected to mail in the payment until nearly the
deadline. Caught in the Christmas mail rush, that payment hadn't
got there. She still owed $7.32 on the card as of the January
statement.
The money didn't matter. Disobeying his orders mattered,
mattered seriously. The first few days after the statement, she
figured that it wouldn't matter too much; she would show Jonathan
the check which had cleared since. As his absence lengthened,
though, her picture of the scene darkened. And, as his absence
lengthened, she missed him more and more. She felt totally
abandoned. Finally, she called a number she'd promised herself
never to call again.
As usual, she got a recording. "Master, this is slut 273. I beg
for an appointment. I will call back later."
When she called back and identified herself, the phone was picked
up. "You've been gone a long time, slut 273," a voice she didn't
recognize said. "Come Friday at 7 pm. Bring $2,000."
<p class="tiny">This story, and a hundred others, is availble for free
without annoying advertising at:
/~Uther_Pendragon/index.htm</p>
The $2,000 nearly cleaned out her account. Paying off the Visa
Gold on Jonathan's orders had drawn the account lower than usual.
She checked her watch by the radio on Friday. It was correct, as
usual. She took a cab to Master's place. At 6:58 on her watch,
she rang the bell. The door opened and she went in. There were
the same two tables, and the same dog collar on one. The whip on
the same table, though, was longer and looked more vicious than
the riding crop she was used to. She spread out the money on the
table which held the whip and her clothes on the other. She put
the dog collar on, took the whip in her teeth, and got down on
her hands and knees in front of the door. This time the wait
seemed interminable.
Finally, the new voice said, "You may enter."
When he'd taken the whip from her mouth, she said "Master." He
just looked at her. Finally, he gestured for her to rise. She
walked to the post and he tied her with her belly to the post.
Her hands were over her head and her legs were to each side.
"Count," He said as always. The first stroke of that whip,
though, was high on her back. She screamed. It hurt worse than
the crop ever had until the last blow. "Count," He said and
lashed her across the same place. "I won't lower the place where
the lash strikes until I hear your count."
She screamed again before managing to choke out "One." She had
to repeat "fifteen" because her sobs muffled it, but she was
still counting at twenty. She was still counting at twenty nine,
and the lash was hitting her behind the knee. Then Master
stepped back and did something else with the whip. It gave a
much louder crack against her calf, and the blow sent fire
through her. She screamed and then sobbed "thirty."
He stopped and walked over to stand just behind her. "Have you
been a good girl?" he asked in a very low voice.
"No Master. I found someone else to control me, and now I don't
know where he is."
"You found someone else? You're *my* little slut! Is that why
you've been gone so long?"
"Yes, Master. And I didn't even obey all his orders."
"That's why you strayed. You went to someone whose orders you
can ignore." It wasn't like that; she hadn't wanted to ignore
Jonathan's orders. But Master hadn't asked a question, and he
rubbed his thumb over her cuts before stepping back.
This time the blows came from her right side, crossing the
earlier cuts. They started low on her leg and moved higher. It
was lucky Master didn't order her to count because she was either
screaming or sobbing too loud to do so. The blows were fire on
her back, even worse on the inside of her thighs. When Master
finally stepped back, she was hanging from the ropes. She knew
what was coming but didn't have the energy to brace for it.
The whip cracked right on her vulva. She screamed and collapsed.
Master untied her hands and lowered her to the floor. The rough
carpet was abrasive to her cuts, but she took forever to summon
the will to roll over and untie her ankles. When she'd got up
and staggered out the door, she was faced with dressing.
She stuffed her bra and pantyhose into her purse rather than have
them against her welts. When she was dressed, the voice said,
"I've called a cab." She staggered out and got in the cab.
She barely had the presence of mind to tell the cabby to take
her to the train station.
She paid him, and got out. Before she could walk into the
station and out another door, a car door opened beside her. "Get
in the car." Jonathan's voice!
She had no will to resist anything right then. She got in the
car and managed to close the door on the second try. "Seat
belt," said Jonathan. That hurt, but she had no energy to argue.
"Where were you?" she asked.
"That's my question. But I know where you were."
She sat silent beside him as he drove to his neighborhood. They
had to walk three blocks to his apartment. At least the chill
air numbed the pain of her welts. He unlocked the door and
gestured her inside. There he took her coat and gestured her
towards the bedroom. He still hadn't said anything.
"I was frightened," she said. "You'd been gone so long." Taking
her clothes off the bruises and welts was a relief, brief though
she knew that relief would be.
"It was less than two weeks."
"I was still frightened. And the credit card...."
"What about the credit card?" he asked. The tone of his voice
sent shivers through her.
"The last payment on the credit card got there late. I still owe
something." By this time she was totally naked.
"How much?" He gestured towards the closet, and she hung up the
blouse and skirt on her side. There seemed to be a trace of
oozed blood on the blouse.
"Less than twenty dollars. That's as of the last statement. A
payment for most of that crossed in the mail."
"And you thought that would make me angry?" He asked. From his
tone of voice, it had. "And that made you go to that creep?"
Master wouldn't like her listening to that description. "What
did you pay him? That sort of set-up can't be maintained as a
hobby."
"$2,000," she admitted. If Jonathan could find her, he could
find out anything.
"To punish you for a twenty-dollar oversight, you paid a man a
hundred times as much. I should charge you for punishing you
for this betrayal. It would support me for the next century."
He was going to punish her, punish her more, punish her worse.
She quailed, but -- well trained -- she said not a word.
"Put on the gym shoes now," Jonathan said. These always were
difficult, being nailed down. It was a worse struggle with her
welts hurting, but she had no choice. When she stood up, he
walked to the closet to pull the sash out of his robe. He tied
one end of the sash around her left wrist. She winced as it
tightened over the bruises there. Master's ropes had hurt her
more than usual; she must have struggled against them more than
usual. "Bend over and rest your hands on the seat of the chair.
I'm not going to sit down this time." When she did, Jonathan
looped the sash around the legs of the chair and up to her right
wrist. He tied this wrist as well, leaving nearly half the sash
dangling from it.
He walked around behind her. "Your cunt looks redder than
usual," he said. When he fingered it, she winced. "Did he whip
that?"
"Yes, Jonathan."
"You shouldn't have let him." She'd been tied up at the time,
but Jonathan wouldn't accept that as an excuse. She'd gone to
Master, let him tie her up. "That cunt belongs to me. Who does
it belong to?"
"To you, Jonathan."
"Say it in a full sentence. 'My cunt belongs to Jonathan.'"
"My cunt belongs to Jonathan," she said.
He got something she couldn't see out of his closet. She guessed
it was one of her punishment devices. When he came back, he
asked, "And your ass?"
"My ass belongs to Jonathan."
"So it does, and you let him play with it and get it all messy."
He hit it then, and she gasped at the pain. The flat of the
paddle hit some welts, but the wires hurt worse. "You shouldn't
do that, Melissa. Who do you belong to?"
"To you."
"Four little words, Melissa. Say, 'I belong to Jonathan.'"
"I belong to Jonathan."
"Learn those words, four little words that will make your life so
much simpler. Say them again and again, one at a time. Now!"
"I." Slap, and pain shot through her. She jerked, but her bonds
kept her hands close to the seat of the chair.
"Belong." She knew that blow was coming, but it hurt just as
much.
"To." Again the blinding pain.
"Jonathan!" And he hit her again. But he'd told her to say them
again and again.
"I," she repeated.
The End
4 Little Words
Uther Pendragon
nogardneprethu@gmail.com
2004/01/30
This is the last of a series of four stories about
Melissa and Jonathan.
The first story in the series is:
1-care.txt
"1 Careless Moment"
The directory to all my stories in this format
can be found at:
index.txt