Chapter 13
Things had really changed at the Bandol mansion of the family Le Grande. Where once the airs of the chambers were silent and stately, now the air breathed of life, of frivolity, and an occasional odor of marijuana. For Peter Le Grande, grandson and heir to Madison Le Grande's fortune, now was the king in residence at Bandol... or at the Rhode Island mansion if he chose.
But Peter was aware of the sacrifice it had taken him. Before the kidnapping, he had taken his birthright with a grain of salt, the idea that he would someday have millions not really phazing him. But he had since sacrificed a nut for it, and that made it all hard-earned as far as he was concerned.
His grandfather had passed away only six months ago. Peter had had little time to get well acquainted with him after his discharge from the hospital, but the old man seemed pleased to have him back again, even if Peter did evidence a return to his wild ways-even that was better than the kid being a fruitcake all his life, the old man realized. Feeling somewhat guilty about his failure to act quickly enough during the kidnapping, the senior Le Grande had drawn up a new will, giving Peter a trust fund of twenty-five million outright, and setting up a plan that would assure the youth ownership of the entire empire someday when he had learned management. In the meantime, the corporation would be passed on to the hands of trusted employees, the reins to Peter, whenever the old man died. Whatever burst of youthful zest Peter showed was just part of the Le Grande rebeliousness, Madison figured. The kid was a chip off the old block . blue chip to be exact.
The old man must have sensed his time was coming, for he remade his will only a few weeks before he passed away in his sleep at the Rhode Island estate. It provided for health care for Paula, who had been sentenced for life at the New York Hospital for the Criminally Insane, a place where Julia too was confined.
After the funeral, Peter set out to take over the Bandol estate, seeking to get back to the Europe he loved. He tried to keep a low profile for the first few months, himself being only nine months removed from confinement, but as he established new jet-set friends, he began to throw more and more parties. He had replaced the staff with younger, hipper servants, so that they would fit in more with his lifestyle. He had been assured by his lawyers that he was very rich, and with a minimal of work on his part, could keep himself that way for life, entrusting the workings of the company to the men who had run it so well for Madison.
He had also hired round-the-clock armed bodyguards to prevent a repeat performance of the kidnapping. He was made to realize that, even though his mother had been put away, there were others who sought to gain political or financial gain through the abduction of wealthy persons.
His recovery at the clinic had been long and painstaking. Gradually, once the sexual therapy had gotten through to him, he had come to understand what an ordeal he had undergone. With every day more and more of his masculine identity had come back, until he was acting in a much more masculine manner than he ever had, even before the kidnapping. It was understood, upon his release, that he could always check in with the head doctor if he felt confused. But Peter had found a much more theraputic way to release his anxieties, one he enacted with his pretty new girlfriend, Randi.
Randi was perfect for his game, a hip jet-setting girl of twenty-three, a rich girl who made an excuse for her rich way of life by posing as a photo- journalist, a field in which she had some interest. The sexy blonde, stood five-six, and when she looked at Peter with her full blue eyes, Peter could see that she was properly neurotic.
The first girl he had tried his new act out on had threatened to go to the authorities when confronted by his act. Peter hadn't tried it on her at first, balling a few times before going to the closet, but she hadn't been a good subject. He knew that he could never be touched with his money, but he paid the girl the hundred-thousand she asked for just to keep things quiet anyway. After all the publicity the Le Grandes had been through during the past few years, he felt it best to try and keep a lid on it But Randi was different. She'd come to one of the countless parties he'd been throwing at his Riviera mansion a few months back on the arm of rock superstar, Val Maggot. But as the party went on, it became clear that Maggot only used girls as escorts to coner his homosexuality. Maggot soon had gone off with one of the pretty boys that hung around the fringe of Peter's new group.
It hadn't taken Peter long to see that Randi was perfect for his new identity. She was passive and sensual, and all fucked-up in the head, having a father complex. In less than a week, she had agreed to move in, acting as both Peter's regular mistress, and as queen of the mansion when it came to hosting the parties they threw.
In fact, a party was just winding down now. Peter, having recently screwed a little French nymph had come back down to the large living room to survey the scene. He had an under-standing with Randi that he could fuck whomever he pleased, but that she had to be faithful to him. The wealthy American heiress accepted it gladly- she was perfect for him.
He took a hit off a fat joint passed to him, then wandered around the mass of fucking, naked bodies, taking deep hits. There still were about twenty couples there, but Peter was bored and looked around for Randi so that he could retire. He put the roach into the remains of the avocado dip, then stepped out on the terrace, feeling the cool evening air hit his bare chest. Then he spotted Randi, dressed in a white pantsuit of the latest fashion, talking with one of her girlfriends. He walked over casually, a faintly bored look on his face.
"Bedtime," he announced, looking cooly at his mistress.
"Oh, yes, just a minute, Pet," she jabbered. "I just want to tell one more thing to Jenny."
The rather plain girl gave him a forced smile. She was lucky she had money, Peter concluded. Otherwise she'd never get a tumble from the guys.
"I didn't say later," Peter went on, his voice a hard edge that grated the nerves. "I said now."
Blushing, Randi allowed herself to be led away by Peter, leaving Jenny to self-consciously brush at her sleeve. "I wish you wouldn't try to embarrass me like that in front of my friends," she pleaded lamely, stepping over the undulating bodies beneath them.
Peter tightened his grip on her arm, but spoke quietly to her. It was a frighteningly quiet voice however, one that held a threat.
"Since when do your wishes count?" he shot coldly. "If you don't like it here you can leave."
"Oh no, please," she turned to him as they reached the broad marble stairs. "I just didn't want to be so... well so rudely treated in front of her."
"If you don't like it... " he repeated cooly.
"Oh, I'm sorry Peter, honest I am!" she blurted, moving close to him, her head looking down at her feet.
"I suppose you need a little lesson," he stated, turning to lead her up the stairs. "Oh, please," she said. "I'm still so sore from the other night."
He said nothing, making her heart beat in anticipation as he led the way down the carpeted hall to the double doors of the large master bedroom. He let her walk in, entered, then bolted the thick doors behind them.
"Get me the paddle!" he commanded, coming over to the large bed and stripping off his pants and shorts, leaving him lean and naked.
"No, no," she pleaded in a little-girl voice, taking on her role in the ritual.
"Perhaps you'd rather have the riding crop?" he threatened, sitting down on the satin sheets of the bed.
"Oh please," she stammered, then rushed to the closet and pulled out a round wooden paddle.
Very contritely she brought the paddle back to him, her cheeks blushing in shame. The paddle was a quarter of an inch thick and made of polished wood, about the size of a ping pong paddle only slightly smaller.
Meekly, she handed him the paddle and looked at him, her large blue eyes begging for mercy.
"Strip!" he ordered, patting his lap with emphasis with the menacing paddle.
Slowly, she began to strip off her garments, her eyes never leaving his as she pleaded to be spared. Peter loved this part of the ritual as the anticipation built in the girl and in him, causing his prick to swell up excitingly. Towards the end of his therapy the doctors had noticed a new manifestation in their patient, a tendency to be slightly sadistic during sex. As Peter had never recalled being that way before the kidnapping, the doctors believed that he was now seeking to repay his mother, and women in general, for the harsh treatment he had received at her hands.
As Peter began to understand and to remember more of what had happened to him, he confessed to his doctor a thrill at the domination game that had taken place during his initiation at the hands of Julia. This excitement still got him off, but now it was reversing itself. The doctors didn't want to force a relapse and have him revert to the Petite character, but at the same time they didn't want him to go the other way on them. So they cautioned him on the use of sadism, telling him that a little bit was all right, but for him not to go too far with it.
Peter had almost gone too far with the other girl, the one he'd had to pay off. But with Randi it was just right-this girl was a born masochist, a girl who had a hang-up on her father who seldom was home. He soon realized that they could work out a ritual that was exciting to both of them, Peter paying back his mother for all the troubles that she had caused him, the girl submitting to authority that she so desired. It enhanced their sex, and by this time they both realized just how far they could carry it without causing any real damage, their roles being well-rehearsed.
"Please don't make me do it," Randi said in the proper child's voice, now standing in only panties and bra.
"You've been naughty, trying to challenge me in front of Jenny," he stated cooly in a fatherly manner, still tapping the paddle to his leg, seated on the bed. "If you don't hurry, I'll make it harder."
With a fake sob, she undid her bra, letting her lush round tits fall out. They measured a nice thirty-seven and pointed up at the tips, having yet to give into the ravages of age. These firm mellons were all that kept this slim-hipped girl with the Voguish figure from being mistaken for a child, for her voice sounded like that of a six-year-old.
Gulping, she lay down over his lap, her head on the soft bed, her legs stretching off the end of the bed so that her toes barely touched the carpet.
Setting the paddle aside for the moment, Peter reached down and hooked his thumbs in the yellow nylon panties, yanking them down the girl's long legs, leaving her bare buttocks completely bare to whatever punishment he decided to inflict upon them. There were slight blue discolorations at the base of the hips, although quite faint, the area that had absorbed the maximum punishment a few days back.
"You still have some signs of your last whipping," Peter smiled, picking up the paddle. "If you weren't so bad, the marks would go away before I had to spank you again."
The girl let go a sigh at the sound of the word 'spank.' This was a key word to her sexuality. She could even get it off when they were fucking if he told her that she was going to get a spanking. This all fit in very nicely with the new image Peter was projecting.
He patted her nude buttocks with the smooth paddle, causing her to bunch up her muscles, making the cleft of her ass all the more pronounced.
"That won't help you," he chuckled, noticing how goose flesh had broken out over the white mounds. "Now you're going to get the spanking you deserve."
He placed his left hand firmly on the small of her back to hold her in place, then slowly hefted the paddle with his right, holding it over his head for a prolonged moment, causing her to squirm in anticipation.
SWHISH! The paddle came arcing down fast, cutting the air and causing Randi to tighten her asscheeks in a vain attempt to ward off the blow.
WHAP! ~ The paddle jumped off her right cheek with a solid CRACK, leaving a jiggling cheek in its wake that first went white as the blood was driven from the fleshy area momentarily, then flamed an angry pink, the gooseflesh all the more prominent.
"Oooooo!" a short gasp escaped her lips.
Then the paddle came swishing down again and landed on the left cheek: SPLATTTT!
"Yikes," the girl moaned, bouncing up slightly off the bed. But Peter held her firmly in place, marveling at the way the other cheek had reddened to match the other.
Then he began to spank her with a regular rhythm, spacing the swats at about three second intervals, the paddle covering every inch of her butt-the top of the right hip, then a blow to the base of both buttock clefts, the middle of the right cheek, a whap to the left thigh.
Randi bucked and moaned over his lap as the paddle landed, giving out with extra-loud cries whenever the paddle landed on her tender thighs, the sound being a duller WHAP when striking this tender area. She beat her feet lightly on the carpet, her hands against the bed, but made no real effort to get away-for the sharp burning pain had begun to be replaced by a steady glow of pleasure, that curious mixture of pleasure and pain that masochists love.
"You shouldn't be so naughty," Peter began to scold as he spanked, using the flailing paddle to punctuate his remarks. "Then I wouldn't, have to spank."
She shuddered as each swat landed, her most intimate parts being displayed to him as he paddled away, her ass working violently as it reddened, several puffed areas beginning to show a few blue dots. But still -he brought the punishing paddle down, harder and harder. SMACK! "There that should show you!"
WHAP!
"Youch... I'll be good!"
She had begun to cry now, but it wasn't the crying of someone in true pain, but more a part of the ritual. Her breath was coming in sharp gasps, and her voice broke as she pleaded, letting Peter know that she really wanted more spanking not less.
He gave her her wish. SPANK!
"You've been bad!" SPANK!
"Oh, ouch... sob, harder, HARDER!"
She had reached that point of no return, her hips working violently up over his knees as if to reach up for the spanking paddle. He brought the weapon down more rapidly now, as the girl approached orgasm, rubbing against his thigh as she bucked up and down, begging for him to lay it on hard.
Peter could see nothing but his mother now, viewing the deep-red ass as that of the woman who had dared to fuck with him, to dare and give the order to have his nut chopped off. A hollow ache grew in the void where that nut had once been, but it was an ache of lust, his cock hard and ready to fuck from spanking this mother surrogate so hard.
With a final flurry of spanks, he concluded the spanking, leaving Randi's ass an apple red and swollen, several streaks and bruises showing through.
SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!
"There, there, THERE! Take that, Mother," he said, throwing the paddle to the floor after delivering the last and hardest spank that left her butt jiggling.
"OH! AHHH! AHHHHHHHH!" she screamed, her buttocks continuing to pump up and down even after he'd quit spanking her as she went through an intense orgasm. She moaned and groaned, her face nearly as red as her ass as she bucked through her come, until her whimpers died down to long sighs and her hips slowed their frantic pace.
"Suck me off!" Peter commanded, feeling her pussyhairs touch against the head of his swollen organ.
She quickly scrambled to the floor, sucking the snot that had accumulated in her nose during the time she'd cried down her throat so she could breathe as she gave head.
Once the nasal area was cleared, she knelt in between his thighs, balancing on her knees, and grasped the thick shaft of his by the root and pumped at it with her fingers. She moved her head down and took the swollen skin of the head into her mouth and began to munch away.
Peter permitted himself a sigh as he leaned down to rest his hands on the shoulders of the blonde. He marveled at how red her ass was as it jiggled in time with her bobbing head, while she sucked and blew. He shivered as she did one of her favorite tricks, running one of her fingers up into the empty sac and probing around. It made him gasp out in pleasure, as she probed the empty area, then pulled it out to play at the other full sac of marble, and to tug at the scrotal patch.
"Suck me, Mama," he shouted, visions of Paula still in his head.
She blew out her cheeks and sucked, her mouth puckered around his cable as she bobbed her head up and down the organ, her first still working at the base of the shaft. Her other hand clawed at his hips as her tongue darted wildly over the sensitive surface of the cockhead.
"Here it comes!" Peter shouted to his mother replacement, his ass bunching up, his belly stiffening, as he felt the hot load come unglued from his stomach.
The girl steeled herself, pumping at the shaft harder with her hand, and took the first gob of goo into her throat and swallowed it down, her Adam's apple bobbing as she continued to suck. Peter let out a long moan of satisfaction as she drained away his come, relaxing and falling back to the bed as she gobbled down the last drop.
It was so nice to be back in the mainstream of life, he thought, enjoying sex the way it should be. Maybe someday this girl would let him cut her with his knives and do the things he really wanted to do... maybe he'd even get to snip off those big nipples of hers. It was so good to be back to normal.