The following story is an erotic fantasy story meant for mature readers and should only be read by adults over the age of eighteen years old. It involves depictions of sex. If this subject matter offends, then stop reading this page now.
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Cinderfella, pt. 7
It was the year 2030 when the repeal of the 13th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution changed my life. Diminishing incomes meant my mother was no longer able to pay the bills, and I had willingly signed a contract indenturing myself to my new stepfather, a man named Jake Head. Jake was a total jerk, and I hated living in his house. But the situation became much worse when his sons came for a visit.
After Christmas dinner, I began the clean-up while the family watched a Christmas special on television. Then Mom headed up for bed. Jake turned off the television. He came into the kitchen.
"Time to work off those demerits, boy," he said.
I started to go into the living room, but he beckoned me into the dining room, where Christopher and Daniel were already standing over by the dining room table.
"Daniel, close the door," my stepfather said. Daniel walked over and shut the dining room door.
"Dick, I want you to bend down over the table," Jake said.
Awkwardly, I bent down, lowering my upper half so it was resting on the table.
"Christopher," my stepfather directed, "take Dick's left wrist and hold his arm down against the table. Don't let him thrash around, son. Hold it securely. This is going to be painful, and he could injure himself if he's not held down correctly, understood?"
"Sure, Dad," Christopher said, as he took my wrist and pinned it firmly against the table.
"Now, Daniel, take Dick's other wrist and hold it down. That's it, son. Hold it nice and secure."
I felt like a freak, pinned down on the family dining room table like this, my awful stepbrothers holding me in place.
"Dick," Jake said, "you still haven't learned your lesson about serving your family faithfully. I am constantly having to correct your bone-headed mistakes. Boy, you signed a contract pledging to serve this household, yet you continue to malinger and do half-assed work. I simply have no choice but to punish you."
It was impossible for me to see my stepfather as he stood behind, me, but I felt him pull down my undershorts. He pulled them all the way down, much to my supreme embarrassment. Then he pulled up the back of my shirt, so my ass was fully exposed.
"Dick, tonight I'm going to use my belt on you," Jake said.
There was a long pause as I heard Jake unbuckle his belt.
WHAP! The first blow landed unexpectedly, and with great force. Although I had thought that the paddle delivered a nasty sting, the sting of the belt was worse. It stung much more than the paddle, and it caused my body to involuntarily jerk upwards. If Christopher and Daniel hadn't been holding me down, I would have risen from the table.
"Hold him down firmly, boys," Jake said. "We've got a long way to go!"
WHAP! The second blow landed across the same area as the first, and I again jerked up from the table; my stepbrothers, however, kept me firmly in place.
WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! Three blows in quick succession, which made me buck and holler.
"Now, Dick, I know this is painful, but, eventually, through pain you will learn to serve. This pain will guide you and help you, and remind you of your duties to this household. It will strengthen you and polish you, helping you become a better servant."
WHAP! The sixth blow landed diagonally, criss-crossing the other blows. This was particularly painful, and I screamed.
"That's it, boy," Jake said. "Exercise those servant lungs."
WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!
The pain of the belt across my unprotected ass seemed unbearable. That is, until Jake delivered the next blow lower, swinging the belt across the back of my left leg. It made the previous strappings seem like child's play. I bucked up again, despite being held down.
The next series of blows landed across the backs of my legs; first the right leg, then the left. They were indescribably painful; I began to cry like a little baby.
WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! I had lost track of the number of blows, but my stepfather apparently had not. WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! It seemed like it would never end.
At last, however, my punishment ended. Jake had Daniel and Christopher let go of my wrists, and I was allowed to get up off the table. I had an erection, which normally would make me feel completely ashamed, but I was bawling too hard to even care. Tears ran down my cheeks and snot ran from my nose.
"Dude, he's throwing a bone, again," Daniel said. "Cover that thing up, buttmunch. We don't want to see that!"
I pulled up my undershorts slowly and gingerly, trying to avoid brushing any of the welts on my legs or butt. I was only partially successful.
Jake turned me toward him, as he began lecturing me about my calling from Jesus to serve his household, and about how he "only wanted the best" for me, but that I had to learn to accept my new life.
Jake was shirtless, and without his belt on, his jeans were riding very low on his hips. I found myself again involuntarily attracted to his sexy, muscular body. I couldn't keep my eyes off his powerful arms, bowling ball pecs, and his sculpted, muscular torso, which was now covered with a light sheen of sweat. At the same time, I wanted to punch him in his asshole holier-than-thou face.
Then Jake took me by the ear and led me downstairs. He took me to my cot as he instructed me to read the Bible chapters he had highlighted.
"Dick, I don't want you sleep tonight," he said. "Instead, I want you to spend the night studying the passages I've highlighted for you. I think they will help you grow, both as a person and as a servant."
"Yes, Sir," I murmured, hating myself for my obedient tone, but knowing I had no choice but to obey.
Jake went upstairs and presumably to bed, as I began studying the Bible he had left me. As I paged through it, tears still leaking out of my face, I saw where he had highlighted passages and left notes for me. He had written things like, "this will help you learn to serve, as Jesus commands", "read this part carefully", and "this passage warns against the temptations of homo lust".
I felt insulted and degraded by what I was being forced to read, and yet I studied the passages nonetheless. I read Exodus 22:3, which says, "If he have nothing, then he shall be sold for his theft". I read Colossians 3:22, which says "Servants, obey in all things your Masters according to the flesh; not with eyeservice, as menpleasers; but in singleness of heart, fearing God." I read 1 Peter 2:18, which says "Servants, be subject to your Masters with all fear; not only to the good and gentle Master, but also to the Master who is difficult."
I read all through the night. I studied the passages. I tried to memorize the words, even though I hated them.
Just before sunrise, I put down the Good Book and went upstairs. I groomed myself quickly in the greenhouse and then began my morning chores: bringing in the newspaper, taking out the trash, folding the dinner linens and putting them in the closet, shoveling the snow off the porch, turning on the driveway heating pad, bringing in the firewood, winding the old grandfather clock upstairs, and making breakfast. I had developed a routine, and went about my tasks like a faithful servant should. I was tired from not having slept, and sore from the belting I had received. The backs of my legs were bruised from the belt.
When Mom and Jake came downstairs, I busied myself around the kitchen as they flirted with one another in the breakfast nook. I was serving them breakfast when Mom noticed my bruised legs.
"Oh my goodness," she said. "What happened to the back of Richard's legs?"
"Yes, Dick's legs are a little bruised this morning," Jake said. "The truth is, I belted him pretty severely last night. I'm sure he's still feeling it, right Dick?"
"Yes, Sir," I said. "It's quite painful."
"Jake!" my mom exclaimed. "That's awful!"
"Now, dear, we talked about this the other night, didn't we? We agreed that whatever punishment Dick receives, it can't cause any permanent damage. As you can see, the boy's fine. He's just got a little bruising on his legs and backside, that's all. He'll be fully healed in a couple of days."
"But Jake, it looks painful," Mom argued.
"It always looks worse than it really is," Jake scoffed. "He's a grown man; I'm sure he can handle a few light smacks with a belt."
"I don't like it," she said. "It seems so inhumane."
"Marsha, you agreed to let me discipline the boy when he's done wrong. I took a lot more punishment from my father when I was younger than Dick, and I turned out just fine. And I've raised four sons already. Let me be the judge of what's humane or inhumane."
"Well, I just worry about him," Mom said with a sigh. "He's my only son."
"Honey, my sons are your sons, too, now," Jake reminded her. "So Dick's not your only son anymore. You have more children to worry about, now. Now let's have no more discussion about Dick's punishments. Besides, we need to talk about the New Year's Eve party, remember?"
I went about my work while they started talking about the New Year's party they were apparently planning to have. From what I gathered, all the important people in the area would be invited. I heard Mom and Jake making a list of people they were planning to invite, as I dusted the knicknacks in the front hallway. It sounded like it was going to be a big event.
"Naturally, Dick will serve as the caterer for the event," Jake said. "We just have to choose the outfit he'll wear for the party."
"An outfit?" Mom asked.
"Sure, honey. Some type of service uniform. We can't have Dick serving guests in just his shorts, now can we?" Jake laughed. "Whatever outfit we choose should make Dick look fine, like a well-dressed houseboy in a crisp uniform. It should help him take pride in his work."
"Oh, I see," Mom said. "That sounds like a fine idea."
"Marsha, let's decide together what Dick will wear," Jake suggested. "I have a catalog here from DCI with a large range of standard servantwear selections."
He took a catalog out of the drawer and they began looking through it.
"Oh, this is obscene!" Mom said. "We can't have Richard wearing these!"
"Oh, I agree, honey," Jake said. "Those outfits are completely inappropriate for a dinner party. There are better ones further into the catalog, though."
Mom leafed through the pages for a while, then said, "Oh, now this one isn't so bad. It's actually kind of cute."
"What do you think of the one next to it?" Jake suggested.
"That one would be okay, too," Mom said. She turned the page and found a few more she liked.
They went through the catalog together, eventually picking out my complete uniform for the party. Much as I disliked the idea of having to serve guests at a fancy dinner party, it was a bit of a relief knowing I wouldn't be serving the guests in my undershorts.
It ended up being much worse.
To be continued...