- Home
- Becca Jameson
Choosing Kellen Page 6
Choosing Kellen Read online
Page 6
My nipples are so needy right now that I’m about to grab them and squeeze them just to get relief.
“Is something wrong with your food?”
I flinch and shake my head. “No, Sir.”
He’s leaning one hip against the island now, drinking a glass of iced tea. When he pulls out the stool adjacent to mine and sits, I notice he has a plate of food, too. It looks nothing like mine. He has a large sandwich of various lunch meats and cheeses. Chips. A soda.
Butterflies are jumping around in my stomach. I’m worried I won’t be able to eat. I’m also feeling a combination of defiance and contriteness for my part in the fact that I am sitting here in lime green panties and toddler shoes and socks.
“Sit up straighter, Sabine. Good posture is important.”
I swallow as I straighten my spine. What I want to do is cross my arms and glare at him, dare him to order me around. It’s what I would have done as a child. Mostly to my nannies. My own father wouldn’t have bothered to comment on my posture. My mother would have given in and let me eat a bag of chips followed by a popsicle if I didn’t want my lunch.
I don’t get the impression Master Kellen is going to be that kind of pushover, so I finally reach for one triangle of PB&J and take a bite. It’s good. I don’t remember when I’ve eaten peanut butter. Not for a long time. It’s not the kind of thing I order from takeout. I smile at the thought and take another bite.
Raw carrots aren’t my favorite, but I eat them in between bites of sandwich anyway.
“I expect you to eat what I prepare for you, Sabine. If you can’t finish your meals, you won’t be permitted snacks. Your health is important to me.”
I nod as I pick up an apple slice and take a bite. It’s sweet and juicy. I’m surprised by my appetite and manage to finish my lunch in no time.
“Please tell me you don’t have an aversion to milk,” Master Kellen states.
I shake my head and pick up the plastic cup to drink the plain white milk. I haven’t had milk in years, either. Not alone in a glass. But I don’t hate it.
“Good. I know Master Roman spends countless hours going round and round with Lucy over her milk. Girls need calcium. I hope I don’t have to have this argument with you.”
“No, Sir.” I pick up a napkin and wipe my mouth when I’m finished.
I watch as Master Kellen cleans the kitchen, putting the plates in the dishwasher and wiping the counters. All the while I’m acutely aware of my arousal. He’s so damn gorgeous. Every movement is fluid and precise. He’s confident in everything he does. My panties grow wetter. I wish I could close my legs, but they’re trapped spread apart by the raised plastic between them.
I grip the edge of the island as I squirm, nearly gasping when my action causes my clit to rock into the bump between my legs. I hold my breath as I rock farther forward, rubbing my clit intentionally. If I had time and Master Kellen wasn’t about to turn around and catch me pleasuring myself, I could totally get off from this ridiculous booster seat.
Suddenly, Master Kellen is done, and he slides my chair out, lifts me by the waist, and sets me on the floor. He takes my hand and leads me toward the kitchen table.
I’m trembling. Will he find out my panties are wet?
He pulls out a chair and sits, angling me in front of him with his hands on my hips again like he did upstairs. He meets my gaze. “I assume you were testing me when you arrived late wearing more than I instructed.”
I flush and glance away. I’m not certain what my intention was, to be honest. Maybe he’s right.
“Just because it’s your first day here doesn’t mean I’ll go easy on you. You clearly need boundaries. From what you’ve told me, you didn’t have them growing up. You won’t get away with defiance under my roof. My punishments will be swift and final. If you test me, you’ll end up with a sore bottom every day.”
Heat suffuses my cheeks and runs down my chest as I lower my head. I can’t believe I’m standing here in front of a man in nothing but childish panties, shoes, and socks. More than that, I can’t believe I’m turned on.
Master Kellen moves me to his side and lowers me over his thighs before I can fully process his intention. He’s going to spank me. I expected this all through lunch. I shouldn’t be surprised. I asked for it. I’m both curious and nervous. Will it hurt? No one has ever spanked me before.
He clasps my hands at the small of my back and then tugs my panties down over my butt. “Spread your thighs, little one.”
I shudder as I do as instructed, stretching my panties out tight between my legs. I’m soaked. A grown man is about to spank me, and I’m horny.
Master Kellen rubs my naked cheeks. “Have you been spanked before, Sabine?”
“No, Sir.” I whimper.
“It won’t be pleasant. It isn’t meant to be. It’s meant to teach you a lesson. Obedience.” He lifts his hand and swats my bottom.
The first spank takes my breath away. It stings. I squirm against his grip, but I’m far too small to escape him. He has me trapped against his thighs.
The second swat lands lower, making me gasp and lift my head. I’m stunned by the vibrations that rush from where his hand landed to my pussy. He said I wouldn’t like it. I’m not sure he was right.
I’ve seen people get spanked at Surrender. Lots of them. It was obvious to me that some people must find it enjoyable or so many wouldn’t request it.
This is different. I didn’t request this scene.
The next spank is higher and doesn’t give me the same rush. Several more rain down over my cheeks until they are heated and burning. The last two are lower, at the juncture of my thighs. I feel both of them in my pussy and moan before I can stop myself.
Master Kellen rubs my butt with his hand, his fingers soothing my skin. He reaches between my thighs without warning and drags two fingers through my folds.
I nearly shoot off his lap. A rush of arousal runs out of me. I’m close to orgasm. How has he managed to turn this spanking into something so pleasurable that I’m close to begging him to touch my pussy again?
He does not, and I can’t find the words to suggest it, either.
I’m shaking and embarrassed by my body’s reaction to his punishment when he stands me on my feet. Without a word, he guides me around the table toward the corner of the room next to the wall of windows. He angles me into the corner.
Every step is awkward because my panties are still around my thighs. I have to walk with my legs parted to keep them from slipping down to my ankles.
Master Kellen sets a hand on my neck and presses my forehead against the corner. “Nose to the wall. Tits also. Clasp your hands behind your back. Keep your legs spread. Don’t let your panties fall.” He bends down and sets my feet where he wants them, wide, toes touching the wall also. “You’ll stand here until I tell you to move. Use the time to think about your disobedience. I know you’re aroused. That’s normal. You’ll never get relief from a punishment spanking though, so get used to that feeling of being left on the edge if you intend to be naughty very often.”
His hands leave my skin, and I hear him walk away.
I drag in a breath, shocked, shaking, nervous, furious, frustrated, and so fucking aroused.
Chapter 6
Master Kellen
* * *
Sabine is shaking, but damn, it was hard for me to control my own reaction to her sweet little body and how she has reacted to my discipline.
I have no doubt she has either consciously or subconsciously defied me just to see what would happen. She’s found out.
I’m not used to having a girl like her. I’ve never once had a little who was intentionally naughty. I fear she will defy me often. It’s in her nature. She doesn’t realize she’s testing me. She needs me to punish her every time she disobeys me. She’s practically screaming out with the need for structure.
She’s a classic case of someone who grew up with indulgent parents and craves a more disciplined life. My spanking tel
ls her I care.
As I sit at the kitchen table watching her, my cock stiffens more by the second. Her pale skin is covered with a dusting of freckles. Her bottom is pink. It will be sore later. I knew she was enjoying my punishment by the noises she made, but I was still stunned to find her pussy soaked. Her juices covered my fingers.
Her reaction is both good and bad. Obviously, I want her to enjoy every moment of being my little. That’s the goal. But if she gets off so strongly on every punishment, she might be inclined to misbehave.
I smile, knowing I can easily squash that problem by denying her any form of release on the days she ends up in the corner. She might spend a few days frustrated beyond belief, but eventually, she’ll learn.
I’m impressed that she has managed to stand still in the corner for her first timeout. She’s trembling but hasn’t made any large movements. After fifteen minutes, I stand. “You may turn around now, little one.”
She sways as she pushes off the corner and awkwardly faces me. Her nipples are hard pink points. Her breasts are small and perfect. I know she’s used to wearing a bra. Most women are. But she doesn’t need one for support.
Her pussy is pink and swollen. I can see it glistening from where I’m standing.
I cross the room and open a drawer at the end of the counter, pulling out a tube of ointment. I open it as I return to my seat. “Come here.”
She waddles toward me, hands at her sides, legs spread awkwardly so that her panties don’t slide down.
I’m proud of her. I know it’s a lot to absorb. She’s trying. “Lean over my lap again, little one. I’m going to rub this ointment onto your sore bottom. It will ease the sting.”
She keeps her gaze down as she shuffles closer to my side.
I help her lie over my lap once again and then squeeze some of the cream onto my fingers. With a hand at the small of her back, I rub the ointment into her tender skin.
She whimpers.
“Does that feel good, baby?”
“Yes, Sir.” She squirms on my lap, arching her bottom subtly upward.
I finish and then stand her between my legs and pull her panties over her bottom. With two fingers under her chin, I lift her face to meet my gaze. “I know you’re aroused. That’s normal. You won’t be permitted to come on days you need a spanking or a timeout.” I lift a brow, waiting for her to react.
She swallows. “I’m…”
“What, baby girl?”
She squeezes her legs together. “I’m so horny.”
“I know.” I slide my hands up from her waist to her breasts, cupping them for the first time, weighing them. I stroke my thumbs over her nipples, making her tip her head back and moan. To bring her back to center, I pinch her sexy little buds quickly and hard.
She gasps. “That’s not helping, Sir.” She steps closer.
“I know that too, little one.” I release her tits. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” I make my way to the mudroom, grab her dress from the counter, and return to her side. “Arms up.”
She lifts her arms, her chest rising with the action.
I find myself reluctant to lower the cotton material over her head. I’d rather spend the day looking at her tits. But this lesson isn’t about me. It’s about her. As soon as the material falls into place, I turn her to one side and remove the ribbon from her hair, followed by the elastic band. Without a word, I gather her hair gently and run my fingers through it as I rearrange it so that the pigtail will be high on her head. After replacing the hair tie and the ribbon I switch to her other side.
When I’m done, she looks much younger. I lift her chin again. “When you choose eight or younger, I mean for your pigtails to be up high like this. Not like a flirty college girl.”
“Yes, Sir,” she breathes.
“Good. Now, let’s go to my office. I need to take care of a few things, and you can spend the time writing in your journal.” I take her hand and lead her across the living room and down the hallway, passing my home gym until we reach my office. She’s been in this room, but I’ve made changes since this morning. Lunch wasn’t my only accomplishment while she bathed and got dressed.
When we step inside, she shuffles slowly across the room next to me, her gaze on the small white table that has two pink chairs pushed up to it. It’s not as small as a real toddler table would be. It’s specially designed to be just her size. Youthful but adapted for someone of her stature.
I’ve situated it next to my desk where she can sit and work while I do the same. The windows along the back wall lead out to the patio and pool. I’ve worked hard to create a work environment that allows me to sit and stare outside when I need to think. Hopefully, Sabine will enjoy it, too.
“Sit, little one.” I point at the small table and then stride to my desk, open the bottom drawer, and pull out the pink paisley notebook I’ve purchased for her. As I return to her side, I hold it out. “You said you were keeping a journal. I thought it might be nice to have one specifically for this particular experiment as a little.
She takes it from me. “Thank you, Sir.”
“I won’t read it. It’s personal. I fully respect your privacy where your thoughts are concerned, but I do expect you to fill it with several pages a day. Notate your thoughts and experiences for later. It will help you work things out in your mind, and later when you look back you will recognize your growth.”
“Yes, Sir.” She slides the pencil from where I’ve tucked it in the spiral.
“Date each entry. I’ll expect you to show it to me every day, just a glimpse so that I know you’ve written in it. Hard rule. If you don’t complete this task, I’ll give you other assignments that won’t be nearly as fun or pleasant.”
She swallows and fidgets in her seat. I watch as she tries to tuck her dress under her bottom unsuccessfully. It’s not long enough.
“I know it’s hard for little girls to sit still, but I expect you to try. I know you’re aroused too, but you don’t have permission to touch yourself. You won’t be permitted to masturbate while you’re living in my home. Your pleasure will be earned and your orgasms will all come from my touch. Understood?”
She shifts her weight back and forth on her bottom. “Yes, Sir,” she whispers.
“Good. Keep your hands away from your breasts and your pussy. If I catch you attempting to rub yourself with your fingers or get relief against any other surface, I will strap your naked little body down and teach you a lesson you will not forget. Have you heard of edging?”
She shakes her head.
I set my hands on her little table and lean in closer. “Edging is when I tease your little body with my fingers, mouth, and toys, keeping you right on the edge of orgasm for as long as I please without letting you come. You will not like it. It’s very frustrating. Trust me. Your best option is to obey me and do what you’re told. I will enjoy giving you more pleasure than you can imagine when you’re a good girl.”
She nods slowly.
“When you’re naughty, you will spend those days with a sore bottom and minimal interaction from me. You’ll go to bed so needy that it takes you a while to fall asleep.”
“Yes, Sir.” She licks her full pink lips, making me want to cup her face and kiss her senseless. I won’t yet. But damn, I want to.
I point at her notebook. “Get to work.” And then I force myself to leave her at the little table and sit behind my desk. I only need to answer a few emails, but I want her to have time to think about everything she’s been through so far and record it.
When I glance at her out of my peripheral vision, I find her bent over the notebook, writing. She looks so precious that I can’t help but stare.
It’s been so long since I’ve had a little in my life. I need to be careful. This one isn’t permanent. She’s only in Seattle for a few months. She’s so green that she’s going to wear me out training her. She’s also going to test me every step of the way.
I need to keep my head on straight. This time with Sabine
is meant to draw me out of my shell. Help me move on. Help her find herself. She’s not mine. She’s not anybody’s. I can’t be sure she’ll decide to live her life as a little when we’re done anyway. Just because she gets off on the roleplaying doesn’t mean she’d enter into a full-time relationship with a Daddy.
She’s way too new to the BDSM scene to be able to make that kind of decision. Most people take years to fully find themselves and then a long time after that to find a partner who can fulfill their particular needs.
I know this better than anyone. I was in the lifestyle for ten years before I found Stacy. We spent six months dabbling and dating before I asked her to commit to me. It was another six months before we got married and she moved in and became my full-time little.
She’s irreplaceable. I’ll never find someone as perfectly suited to me as Stacy was. We had five years together. Five short years before cancer took her from me. Some days, that seems like eons ago. Some days it seems like yesterday.
As I watch Sabine writing, her feet tucked under her chair, her auburn pigtails hanging down to drag across the desk, I feel a pressure in my chest. I know logically Stacy would be furious with me for spending the past three years alone. On the other hand, I feel like I’m defiling her memory by training this woman to be a little.
A shrink would tell me I’m being irrational. A shrink has told me that many times. And Dr. Glasgow is right. Intellectually, I know he’s right. Why then does it hurt so bad to let Stacy go and move on?
And more importantly, why am I so damn drawn to Sabine that I want to yank her out of that chair, carry her to my bed, strip her out of those little-girl clothes, and thrust into her tight pussy until all I know is bliss?