Starstruck
John Benson
Starstruck
It wasn't that I never knew anyone who'd had her panties
taken. My pretty young aunt had had hers taken for infidelity,
and got sold to a garrison of soldiers, which was really mean.
And my older cousin had her panties taken so she could be sold
to pay my uncle's debts. And my best friend refused her father's
choice of husband and he got so angry he had her panties taken
and sold her to that selfsame man, so now he not only gets to
fuck her, he gets to spank her, too.
So it's not that I didn't know it's possible, but if
you'd asked me if there was any danger I'd have my own panties
taken, I'd have said never in a million years.
What I was planning was to get out. Not run away, you
understand. Runaways just get their panties taken and get
passed around the cop-shop. No, I was going to get out the
real way. Get a scholarship. Ride a Starship. Go to
University. No one used the household datanode much, so I
had loads of time to study.
. . .
Maths and poetry. Yeah, I know they don't have much in
common, but they're the languages that Starmen love, so I
figure I'd better study both. That way I'd have two chances
to get off this dirtball and go someplace that girls can't
get their panties taken just for doing what they want. Maths
and poetry. I studied and I studied and took tests and tests,
hoping to get a first in one or the other, and somehow, I got
firsts in both! Freedom, and a chance to see the stars up
close. The datanode printed out my ticket on the little
interstellar Dragonfly and I was so damn proud I went right
out and showed my daddy I was going to amount to something
and I hoped he would be proud.
What he was was not amused. He told me the Religious
Authorities would never let a good girl go off without
supervision, not even to another town let alone another world,
so just forget it. I said forget it? Forget my LIFE? No
way, no fucking way.
Which made it get real quiet. Daddy isn't someone you
say 'fuck' to. Between gritted teeth he told me that the
conversation better be over, because if I thought it wasn't
he was going to take my panties and give me to someone who
liked to punish girls.
Right. I should have seen how mad he was. How quietly,
steamingly angry. But like I said, I never ever thought my
own panties were in any jeopardy at all. And so I did something
pretty stupid. I called his bluff.
. . .
I had to wear a skirt so short the bottom of my panties
showed, and Daddy made a fire in the fireplace even though
the day was warm and stood around pursing his lips and shaking
his head and stuff. And three cops came over from the cop-shop
and one of them read a proclamation, whereas I'd been a very
naughty girl and deserved it and blah blah, and Daddy signed
it and I started wondering when it was going to stop.
Then one of the cops stood on each side of me and
they grabbed my arms and the third cop pulled my skirt up
and cut my panties with a knife and yanked them off and made
a big deal of handing them to Daddy. He threw them in the
fire.
That's when it finally hit me that this wasn't just an
act to scare me. When I saw my panties burning, I knew that
it was real, and now instead of a skirt so short the bottom
of my panties showed, I was suddenly wearing a skirt so short
the bottom of my bottom showed, and the cops took pictures
and entered me forever into the database of sluts, so no
proper guy would ever marry me by mistake.
I stood there bawling my eyes out while Daddy thanked
the cops and gave them a gratuity, and then a young man
showed up and Daddy talked to him in private and I figured
money traded hands and then the guy came out and put a collar
around my neck and pinched my tit and smacked my hind and
said I was lots prettier than he expected, and there I was,
having to leave with a guy who could spank me and fuck me
any time he wanted.
. . .
First thing he did was drag me off to the woods and
cut a swishy branch to switch me with. And I begged him not
to, promised to do anything he wanted, but he said no, I had
to feel what it was really like to be a girl whose panties
just got taken, and that always started with a whipping and
he didn't want to mess with ritual. So I asked him if he
was a religious conservative, and he said not exactly.
My girlfriend told me it's a guy thing. That guys think
a well-spanked girl is a fuckable girl, so they'll do it
whether she's been bad or not, and there was nothing I could
do but lay across that rotten log and let him hit my helpless
hind until it burned and ached and I writhed and begged and
promised to be good.
But you know? By the time it was all over, maybe it
wasn't just a guy thing. Maybe it was a girl thing, too,
because I wanted him to finish the ritual. No fair, I told
him. No fair doing the whipping without doing the raping.
Everybody knew that pantiless girls get screwed. Please rape
me. Do it hard.
. . .
We were pretty good friends by the time we came out of
the woods out near the spaceport a few hours later. He'd
fucked me three times, whipped me twice, and we were holding
hands and I was getting fond of him. But the spaceport. The
memory of what had almost been mine. That hurt a lot.
They stopped us at the gate, the Religious Authorities,
and he showed them my ticket (which they couldn't read) and
that meant he had business in the port, and they checked my
well-whacked hind and the evidence of recent sex and realized
I really was a slut so then it didn't matter to them where I
went as long as it wasn't in church. So we got in.
It's funny. The interplanetary craft are mostly huge
gaping cargo things so big when you stretch your neck up you
still can't see the top. But the real interstellar ones are
often fairly small. And the one that we stood next to was
Dragonfly, the one I was supposed to fly away on. I wanted
to steal my own ticket and run away. It hurt so much.
He handed me my ticket and told me to hurry up. Seems
that money had indeed traded hands, but it was Daddy paying
him to escort me to the spaceport, not him paying Daddy to
own me. For a second I couldn't say a thing, but then I
asked him if Daddy had said it was okay to screw me.
He said no, but he hadn't said not to either. And you
know? If he hadn't treated me like a slut, I would have never
gotten past the Religious Authorities, and maybe Daddy knew
that.
Don't be sad, the guy told me, after all, all the Starmen's
women are sluts anyway. So I hugged him good-bye, good and
tight, but then I left him and grabbed my ticket and hurried
up the ramp to Dragonfly, and my chance to see the stars.
Archive at http://unseemly.org
David Dyer-Bennet
surprise.
--
David Dyer-Bennet, <dd...@dd-b.net>, <www.dd-b.net/dd-b/>
RKBA: <noguns-nomoney.com> <www.dd-b.net/carry/>
Photos: <dd-b.lighthunters.net> Snapshots: <www.dd-b.net/dd-b/SnapshotAlbum/>
Dragaera mailing lists: <dragaera.info/>
Natty
story was really pissing me off but, well, I love being surprised. :)
Thanks for yet another amazing story.
Natty
p&e
ayla
ayla
--
"Being submissive may have put chains on my body, but it has
removed my soul from bondage."
The Loving Dominant - John Warren - Masquerade Books, Inc.
Chapter 4, page 62.
Haron
best,
Haron
Kessily
her wish, maybe not the way she wanted it but she did get it.
love kess
Kali
have written and they are all very nicely written... you certainly
peak my interest with them!
Kali