Aromatherapy Chapter 4
by Sleepytimeslut
I lay on the couch in Daniel’s RA suite, watching Netflix. I was watching the images sideways, because I was lying with my head in his lap, but I didn’t care. It was a show I didn’t care much about, for one thing, but more than that, I was super comfortable, and he was stroking my hair, and that seemed much more important at that moment. I felt safe, and protected, which is all I had been after, in the beginning. It was a warm feeling.
“Babe?” I said, quietly.
“Yeah, hun,” he murmured, his eyes on the screen.
“I really like this.”
He moved the hair off my ear, and massaged my earlobe for a moment lovingly. “I’m glad.”
Danny Devito said something funny to some people in a bar. Somebody laughed, far away.
“Babe?”
I could hear him smile, above me. “Yeah, sugar?”
“We haven’t gotten kinky in a while ...”
His arm moved. The show paused. A moment, that felt like thinking.
“... That’s true ...”
I stroked his muscular thigh through his cargo shorts.
“What did you have in mind, babe?” he said.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said coyly. “It might be a little too naughty ...”
He chuckled. “You know I’m pleased to fulfill any and all of your sexual fantasies, even if they’re not my own.”
I giggled. He was parroting a sentence I’d programmed him with, and if it came out kind of stilted, he didn’t seem to notice.
“That’s true! You are so good about that, and I love it ...”
“And I’m sure if I ever had a special request, ...” he said, stroking a hand down my back, then squeezing my bottom.
“Oh! Umm ... Of course, honey.” I rolled over onto my back, looking up at him from his lap. “We’d at least talk about it.”
Funny, why do I forget that he’s his own person, with his own thoughts and desires? I hadn’t even thought of that ...
He slid his hand up to my bare midriff, then under my shirt, playing with my nipple with his thumb. I moaned. He cupped my breast, cradling it like a baseball.
“Do you like my boobs?”
“Of course!”
“They’re not too small?” I said, batting my eyes. I was thinking of that redheaded bitch again, who was way too busty. They didn’t look natural.
He shook his head, love in his eyes. “They’re perfect.”
I looked up, studying him. God, he was beautiful.
I bit my lip.
“I’ve been naughty,” I said in a whisper.
He was puzzled. “What?”
“I’ve been a very bad girl,” I said, giving him big sorrowful eyes. I raised my hips and pulled my shorts down, slowly. “I should probably be punished, Danny.”
His eyebrows crept up his forehead. “Oh, I see ...”
I turned over, and crawled slowly across his lap. I knew he was watching my pert, bare bottom as I wiggled it into position. I put my tummy over his legs and arched my ass in the air just a little bit.
“Please, sir. I crave correction. I want to be a good girl, but it’s so ...” I pressed myself against his growing erection. “Hard,” I breathed.
He stroked my thigh, my hip. Testing the waters. His breathing was coming shallowly. “And what are you doing that’s so bad, babygirl?”
“Mmmmm,” I purred. “I look at other boys, sir. And I have dirty thoughts. I need to be punished, so I can stop having dirty thoughts. I need those demons exorcised.”
“You gonna give me your ass, baby?”
“I need y- what??”
He squeezed my ass cheek. “I would love to take your tightest hole, sweetheart.”
“Whoa whoa whoa ... Not where I was going, Daniel!” I started to get up, but he held me down.
“OK, OK, I was just asking. I misunderstood, babe.”
He wanted to fuck my ass?? I never would have thought of that ... Amazing. Um ...
“You know ... sugar ... I’m not opposed,” I said, picking my words carefully. “I just ... you’re so big!! And thick.”
“Thank you.”
“I mean, you’re already so big and I’m so tiny it sometimes hurts as it is and I think ... well, let’s say we’ll think about that, OK love?”
“Sure, sure, honey,” he said, still stroking my ass. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine,” I said, settling back into position. Where was I?
Back to the babygirl voice. “I really need a big, strong man to ...” No. Wait. I half-turned, so I could see him. “Is that really something you want? Ass fucking?”
He shrugged, visibly uncomfortable. “Well. I dunno. Maybe.”
“I’m not kinkshaming, just clarifying.”
“Well, it’s just something I’ve never done before. With anyone. But I’ve been curious. And you seem kind of—adventurous? I mean, it’s only been like 5 weeks or whatever but we’ve already done more than ...”
I moved up and kissed him, hard. “You’re adorable, you know that?” I tousled his hair.
OK. Back over his lap.
“I have such dirty thoughts, sir, I need to have them beaten out of me! Spank those naughty thoughts. Please, sir. Please make me be a good girl.”
He swatted my ass. “Like that? Is that what you need, you bad girl?”
“Harder, sir. Please sir. I have demons inside me. They give me bad thoughts.”
He spanked me harder. “What kind of thoughts?”
“Oww! About boys.”
Smack. “What about boys?” Smack. “What do you want?”
“I want—ohh! I want their cocks. I can’t stop thinking about cocks. Oww! Please sir, I want to be good.”
He hauled off and gave me a good crack on the right buttcheek, and I howled. More in surprise than pain, but still. “But you can’t be good, can you,” he rasped, his voice deepening. “You’re a dirty whore.”
“I am!! Ohhh!!” He hit the left cheek even harder. “But I can be a good girl! I wanna be your good girl!! Owwww ... Please sir!!”
“You little slut.” Crack!! “Looking at boys all the time, dreaming about their cocks ...” Crack! Smack!! “Craving cock in your mouth, in your cunt ... You’re an insatiable cockwhore!!”
He slid his fingers into my pussy, which was gushing. I could feel the heat radiating off my stinging ass, and I sobbed a little as he roughly fingered my dripping clit. “You little whore. Are you wet thinking about cock? Or are you wet because of your punishment?”
He stroked my clit hard, too hard, and I howled. “You slut, are you getting off on your discipline? You are, aren’t you?”
“Please sir! No sir! Yes sir!!” I didn’t know what I was saying, it was too much. He smacked my ass HARD, once, twice, stuffed his fingers in my pussy, smacked me a third time, then hit my thighs several times rapidly, then returned to my clit. He was assaulting everything and it was making my head spin. I was starting to cry, it all hurt so much and felt so good and so awful and I couldn’t believe what I’d been thinking and I was worried about hurting him and now I really was crying and sobbing ... “I’m sorry sir I’ll be good I promise!!”
“You don’t want any boys, do you. You want a man. Just one man. Just me.”
“Yes sir! Thank you sir!!”
“You belong to me. To my cock.”
“Yes sir!! Oww-hhwww...”
Smack!! “Say it!”
“I belong to your cock! My pussy belongs to your cock!! I won’t think about any other—owww!!—any other cocks!!! Thank you sir!!!”
There was a simmering rage I’d tapped into, or something. He was breathing hard. He was enjoying it. He was working off some frustration, or aggravation, or ... or maybe some subconscious part of him that knew what I was doing to him hated me, and for a moment was in charge. That thought made me start to cry in earnest.
“You’re going to count. Count to 20.”
Yes si- owwwhhhhwh!!!!”
“Count!”
“One! Owww!! ...
“Two! ...
“AAahhhh!!! .. Three!!”
By the time he got to 20, I was sobbing. Bawling. I couldn’t remember what he was doing it for, why I had asked for it, I just wanted it to be over, and he held me after the last one, cradled me in his arms as I cried and the tears ran down my cheeks. I held him close and stroked his face and kissed him and said “I’m sorry I’m sorry” over and over. I sank down, finally, and drifted as he rocked me.
I didn’t realize how much I’d needed to feel something. To feel anything, even something so painful. The intensity ... it was freeing. My mind felt completely disconnected from my body. I was numb, and far away, and I distantly thought, Stay good, little puppy ...
I can do this. I can be good. “Thank you, Danny,” I whispered, and sobbed a little.
I felt cleansed. I felt absolved.
The crucible of his punishment, lovingly given, had burned away the evil thoughts.
I lay there panting, slowly drifting to sleep as he soothed my red bottom with gentle loving strokes, and cooing noises.
He was good. He was a good man.
I was good. I could be good.
I could ...
I dozed.
I woke up, just for a second. An echo of his words. What was it?
“It’s just something I’ve never done before. With anyone ...”
How many women had he been with?
What had they done?
How could I possibly measure up?
... I’d been so content. But it only took a couple hours for the anxiety to set in. The panic. And the dark thoughts, right behind it ...
The panic had more or less subsided, or at least receded below the surface to where I didn’t have to think about it, by the next morning, and a full day of challenging classes had kept me plenty distracted. Seeing Eric had distracted me too, but I had managed to just smile at him, and move on. No dirty thoughts, and no conversation. I was a good girl.
Then, walking across the quad, finished with classes for the day but worried about the paper I still had to write, I glanced over to see HER again. That redheaded bitch.
She was standing under a huge oak tree, standing by Daniel, and talking to him, the cunt. Chirping away in her chirpy little voice. And fondling his goddamn biceps. And the fucker was flexing for her, and smiling, and goddamn him goddamn her goddamn fucking fuck them both ...
I clenched a fist and instantly a wind sprung up about me. My hair flew about wildly, like when Willow got mad on “Buffy,” and I screamed and thrust both hands forward and lightning shot from my palms and he was knocked off his feet by wind and electricity and she was lifted bodily into the air, her skin crackling, until she exploded leaving nothing behind but blobs of hair dye and the gel packs from her boob job ...
Except of course that didn’t really happen. I stood panting for a moment, my fist clenched. Then my vision blurred with tears, and I turned and ran away.
Looking back, I can see why I thought I had stopped my downward fall the night of the spanking, the punishment. For a moment, with Daniel’s abuse—safe, sanctioned abuse—I felt cleansed, purified. My scattered thoughts had focused to a single point.
And I thought that point was pure.
That would have worked if I was truly a good person, on the inside. As I had honestly thought I was, my whole life. Forgotten, insignificant, sidelined. Ignored. But fundamentally good.
I was wrong.
“Lie down,” I ordered Daniel that night, in his room.
He obeyed, a compliant, blank-faced robot, moving to the bed. An android servant, sent from Cyberlife to serve me.
“No, lie on the floor, you don’t deserve the bed.”
With no expression or emotion, he knelt on the floor, then lay down on his back. I stripped off my pants, my underwear. Crouched beside him, staring into his eyes. Stroking my wetness as I watched his open, guileless, innocent-looking face.
Innocent? Ha! He couldn’t be trusted. Couldn’t be trusted with free will. But I knew what to do with that.
“From now on, you worship my pussy and no other,” I whispered. “There will be no other pussies before me.”
I scooped my juices from my crotch, and smeared them on his face.
“You are not sexually aroused by women any more. Except for me. I am the only woman you find attractive. Women leave you cold,” I said, coating my fingers with more of my fluids, and feeding them to him.
“When a woman talks to you, you go limp, and you don’t have any desire to talk to her longer than necessary.”
His mouth suckled hungrily at my fingers, following my instructions, while his eyes stayed arousingly, hypnotically, blank and empty.
I had been wrong about myself. About being a good person, on the inside.
Because I was discovering that something else was there, under it all. Something just waiting for the opportunity.
I craved more. More control, more power, more ... more men. More everything. And a tiny voice inside me knew, now. No matter what I did.
I could get absolution.
I could demand it, and receive it.
Until I reached a point where I didn’t even care, anymore.
The crucible had burned everything away, leaving just my core. And at my core, apparently ... I was evil.