Her Father, My Master: Enthralled (12 page)

He flicked on a light, and I raised
my eyebrows in surprise.  This
was
a surprise, and not a sexual one.  At
least, I didn't think it was.

It was a complete home gym.

“I realized,” he mused, “that while
I have the benefit of a gym membership, you have no such benefit, and I don't
allow you outside.  I also realized that it is cruel of me to keep you in the
house like this, with no way to exercise your body.”

I nodded.  It was amazing; he'd
practically read my mind.  The only thing I dreaded slightly about returning
was the level of inactivity I'd be subjected to.  And now, I'd be able to do
anything I wanted.

Mr. Hendricks
had
to be
rich.  That was the only way he could possibly afford everything I saw.  There
wasn't just a treadmill, but an elliptical and a bike machine as well.  There
was a universal gym, and a impressive set of free weights.  The free weights
intimidated me.  I'd always used the machines in my high school gym.

“It's amazing,” I said quietly. 
“Thank you, master.”

He smiled.  “Of course.  Do you
know how to use everything?”

“I... no, sir,” I admitted,
flushing slightly.  “I don't lift weights much, and I mostly used the machines
for that.”

“Ah.  We'll have to fix that, my
pet.”

“Yes, sir.”

He raised an eyebrow at me.  “Would
you like to begin fixing that now?”

I don't know why, but my heart gave
a thrill.  Perhaps I was just happy to be with him again, to have him paying
attention to me again.  No matter the reason, I nodded enthusiastically.  I was
certain that he had a lot to teach me.  “Yes, sir.”

“Good.”  With no further words, he
removed his own shirt, and led me to a weight bench.  I stared and watched his muscles
ripple as he loaded a weight bar for me, and he placed it on the rack.  “Come,
lie down,” he commanded, and I did so.  The leather of the padded bench was
cool against my bare back, and I stared up at the bar, feeling intimidated. 
There wasn't much weight on it, not more than thirty pounds, but it still
looked intimidating to me.  I couldn't lift very much at all, even when I was
fitter, and now, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to lift anything at all.  I
was afraid my master would laugh at my weakness.  He was so much stronger than
me.

“Hands on the bar,” he continued,
and even though I was nervous, I obeyed, grabbing and gripping the cold metal
in my hands.  I knew what exercise I was going to do – a chest press – though
I'd never done it with free weights before.  “I'm going to spot you, although
when I'm not here, you can also place the bar here.”  He indicated two lower
notches as he spoke with a hand.  “Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.  Now lift it up, and bring
it down to your chest.”

I did so, first pushing the bar
upwards and forwards, and then letting the bar sink down, nearly brushing
against my skin.  It wasn't nearly as heavy as I feared.  I didn't need any
prompting to push back up, and Mr. Hendricks nodded in approval.

“Good.  Now, I need you to spot
me.”

“Yes, sir.”  We switched places,
and I watched as he loaded the bar up with more and more weight.  One hundred,
two hundred, two hundred and fifty pounds.  It was shocking.  I felt a thrill
run up and down my spine as I saw exactly how much power my master had in his
body.  It was even more than I thought.  To know that this man had that
power... to know that he could dominate me, and take me whenever I wished,
whether I wanted it or not... a throb pulsed through my body, and I could
myself growing slick with need and desire.

As I stood over him, ready to grab
the bar and assist him, I realized that this private gym was sexual, in a way. 
It was a way for my master to show me exactly how strong he was.  I watched him
pump away with the massive amount of weight bar on the bar, his muscles
rippling and flexing, straining and tensing.  His lips were parted in a snarl,
and his teeth were gritted as he lifted.  Sweat began to bead on his tanned
skin, and his legs shivered and shook.  One, two, three reps, until he made it
to ten, and then he slammed the bar back on the rack.

“You like what you see?” he asked
me, panting slightly from the effort.

I nodded.  “Yes, sir.”

“Of course you do,” he growled and
stood, and I noticed something else about him.  He was wearing jeans, but he
had an unmistakable bulge that was only somewhat disguised by the thick
fabric.  I was as turned on by this as I was.

He approached me, and encircled his
arms around me, pulling my close.  I felt his sweat smear against my cool skin,
his entire body like a hot iron, searing my flesh.  “You like knowing how
powerful your master is?” he asked, murmuring into my ear.

“Yes, sir,” I breathed, feeling
weak at the knees.  I let him hold me up.  I was probably light as a feather to
him.  I was an insubstantial wraith, next to his raw power.

“You like knowing that I could take
you right here, right now?” he growled, gripping me tighter.

I squirmed in his grasp.  “Even if
I said no, you would still take me, sir,” I said in a shaking voice.  We both
knew it was true.  No wasn't the safe word.  I understood this, and he did too.

“You're damned right,” he said
harshly, dragging me around the rack, towards the weight bench.  “I'm you're
master, and you do what I say.  You can't deny me.”

“No,” I said again, and the word
seemed to spur him on.

“No, you can't deny me?  Or no, you
won't let me have you?  You can't stop me, my pet.”  He pushed me down on the
bench now, with more force than he'd used in the past, and I hit the padded
leather with a dull thud.  It stung my backside, and I was thrown off balance. 
I immediately fell all the way down, laying prone against the bench now, and my
master eagerly took his opening, striding on top of my, squatting down on my
hips.  His weight pressed down against me, and I couldn't just see how erect he
was, I could smell him.  He smelled of sweat and musk and sex, and I couldn't
help myself against him.  I felt myself growing slicker by the moment, and I
arched my back, my lips parting in a slight moan.

“That's right, slut,” he rasped,
and he gyrating against me, the rough fabric of his jeans now dragging against
my skin.  “Fuck.”  He stood and quickly slipped out of those jeans, and his
sweat-drenched underwear, freeing his massive cock from that fabric prison. 
“I'm going to take you, and you can't say anything about it,” he said as he
bent over me, his hands roughly running up and down my sides, his thumbs
pressing down on my erect nipples.

“No,” I whispered again, hoping to
elicit the same reaction from him.

I did.  He roared and pressed his
body down on me, and he grabbed my arms, pinning them to my sides.  No matter
how much I struggled, he held me captive.  I couldn't resist him, and I
couldn't escape.  And I found that thought incredibly, unbelievably arousing. 
I wanted him to take me, and I wanted him to take me forcefully.  I wanted him
to use his power to fuck me, and fuck me hard.

He knew exactly how I felt. 
Lifting his body slightly, he dragged that big, thick dick along my stomach,
and slipped it between my legs, then the drenched folds of my aching cunt.  It
was easy, so easy for him to find his mark.  Without waiting for me to be
comfortable at all, he plunged right in, causing me to gasp and squeal at his
length and girth.

It'd been so long since he was last
inside me, he stretched me painfully, but I took it.  I took every last inch of
his rock hard, iron cock.  And I loved it.  I loved that he had to force
himself inside me, and take me as roughly as he wanted.

He squatted over the weight bench
now, and began to pummel my cunt, abuse it as harshly as he could, with me
screaming and writhing underneath him all the while.  His fingers crabbed and
clawed at my skin, leaving harsh red marks wherever he scratched me, setting my
skin on fire.

“Do you want this?  Do you want
this, my pet?” he asked in a rasping voice, each time bearing down on me harder
and harder.

“No, no!” I screamed, knowing that
the word would drive him into more and more of a frenzy.  I couldn't believe
what I was saying, even as I uttered it.  This was utterly taboo, and utterly
arousing.  He grunted and pounded against me, faster and faster, his balls
slapping against my skin each time he bore down.

The words had the effect I thought
they would.  He roared and pummeled me, lifting my upper body up with his
clenched hands and pushing me back on the seat as he fucked me, and fucked me
hard.  My hair went flying, and tears sparkled in my eyes – not tears of pain
or fear, but simply because I overwhelmed by it all.  How arousing this was,
how erotic my master was.  He really could do anything to me, and he would do
anything to me.  I'd never seen him unleashed like this before, and I loved it.

Finally, his hands gripping my body
like iron vises, he finished inside me, powerfully jerking his body against me
with every spurt of come that shot out of his rock hard cock.  With a final
grunt, he pulled out of me, and I winced.  His dick was still thick and
twitching, slick with his come and my juices.

“Good girl,” he said as he shakily
stood up.  “Clean yourself up, and get a workout in.  Ask me if you need to
know how to use anything.”

I lay on the bench, motionless.  It
wasn't that I was ignoring him, it was just that I was so completely drained
that I couldn't move, even if I wanted to.  My master seemed to understand my
exhaustion, and he simply left me alone in the gym, to my own devices.

It was silent and dim in the damp
room, and I soon began to shiver as the sweat on my body grew cold.  I still
didn't want to move, but I knew that exercise would warm me up best.  I stood
up, and made my shaky way towards the treadmill, with an assortment of odd
thoughts pummeling my brain.

A small, stupid part of me was
worried that despite the fact that I'd said no, he'd kept going.  It was the
textbook definition of rape.  But... we both knew that 'no' wasn't the safe
word.  'No' wouldn't stop him.  And I had... I had liked it.  I liked being
forced.  I liked the thought that my master would take what he wanted from me,
without any regard to me.

The sheer power of this man was
overwhelmingly sexy.  I had to have him.

But for now, I had to have some
exercise.  I started at a slow pace on the treadmill, hardly more than a walk,
and then ramped up the speed.  Soon, I was running.

And sooner than I would have liked,
I was panting and sweating, feeling very hot indeed.  My body jiggled far more
than I remembered, and I hated the feeling.  It was especially apparent,
because I was nude.  I would have to fix this.  But my master had given me the
means to do so.  I was grateful for that.

It was slow going, but I made it to
3 miles in 30 minutes.  I sighed as I hopped off the treadmill, feeling
exhausted and shaky.  I remembered when I could do it in nearly half that
time.  It was amazing how out of shape I'd become.  But I was going to fix
that.

I tried lifting some of the free
weights, but I was too exhausted and sore to accomplish much, so I just went
upstairs.  My hair was matted with sweat, and my body smelled like sex, but I
could already feel the endorphins of a good workout rushing through my brain. 
I felt exhilarated, in a tired way.  Like I could take over the world.

But for now, a shower would
suffice.

Chapter
10

It turned out that our last session
was an introduction to something much larger, as I found out later in the
evening when my master presented me with a new collar.

Like the bondage collar, this was
leather, but it didn't have the D rings that the bondage collar had.  Instead,
it was stamped with an intricate design, much like my metal collar had.  The
leather was soft and pliable in my hands, and I gripped it hard as he explained
what would be associated with this particular adornment.

“There will be no bondage with this
collar,” my master said as he confirmed my suspicions.  “In fact, quite the
opposite.  I wanted you to struggle, as much as possible.  And I will do
whatever I want to you.  I do not want silence, in this collar.”  He gave a
half smile as my heart jumped.  I sometimes hated having to stifle my cries. 
“I want to hear you scream.”

I nodded.  I understood.  “Yes,
master.”

“And I think it's quite clear
already, but you know the only thing that will stop me, will be the safe word. 
Do you remember it?”

“Yes, sir.  Gatling.”

“Good girl.”  He slipped the
leather collar around my neck, and snapped it snugly over my metal one.  It was
like it was made for my other collar, and in fact, perhaps it was.

He gripped my waist possessively
after he put the collar on, and bent his head to whisper into my ear.  “I may
want to use this on you again, tonight.”

“Yes, sir,” I breathed, and he
squeezed me.

“Remember what I said about
resisting,” he cautioned, and I swallowed.  This was so strange for me.

“Yes, I do.”

“Good.”

The remainder of the day passed
more or less normally.  At least, as normal as things could be in this house,
with me as a slave.  I caught up on my cleaning, of which there wasn't much –
my master was neat and orderly, and when I wasn't there, he kept up with the
house remarkably well on his own.  And I cooked for him.  It seemed that this
was one department where he wasn't terribly good.  As I glanced in the fridge,
looking for ingredients, I noticed the leftovers of far simpler dishes than the
ones I prepared for him.  Boxed macaroni and cheese, hamburger helper, and the
like.  He was only a man of elaborate tastes when he didn't have to cook for
himself, apparently.

Not that I minded.  I found myself
wishing to take good care of Mr. Hendricks, as good as I could.  I felt as
thought he deserved it.  I now knew some of his past, and I knew a little more
about what made him tick.  I still didn't know why he desired control so
strongly, though.