Dominance in Despair

Chapter 8

Discovery

The lights in the living room were turned off, the massive bay windows leaking in the dim light outside through the falling mountain snow. A young man, no older than 10, sat expectantly on the floor at the feet of an older man, easily in his early twenties, sitting in a plush leather seat. The older man's face was chiseled and firm, like something only seen in the movies. His short black bangs hung over his eyes as he looked down at his younger counterpart, whose own black hair was spiked up.

Between them was a young woman, couldn't be over 17 years old. Her long blond locks hung over the front of her body, the hair obscuring her nipples the only thing that covered her. She clinged to the older man's leg like a whipped dog, her fingers digging into his slacks.

"You see, Little T," the older man started, "That's our family legacy. Dad taught me, just as Grandfather taught him, and so on." He looked down at the younger counterpart, ruffling the woman's hair.

The boy nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, I know...but why?"

The elder smirked, tapping the woman on the head. Without a word, the teenager looked up at him with vapid, listless azure eyes, rising up over his lap as she unbuckled his pants. In front of the child, she slid his pants down and began to fellate her "master."

"Little T," he started over the slurping sound of the girl attending to his member, "only a few men can sit at the top of the world, and they all sit upon thrones of those lesser than them. The greatest are defined by how well they can make others do what they want."

The child nodded enthusiastically, the actions in front of him not fazing him in the slightest.

The older man continued. "Now nobody is born with the knowledge, so they have to learn. And if you can control a woman's heart and mind, you can influence anything to your whim." He smiled warmly at the boy as the woman shoved his erection into her throat, gagging on the girth. "And don't worry little bro', I'll teach you everything I know."

The boy smiled, genuinely excited. "Wow...really? You're so smart Robert..."

Paul sat up with a bolt, breathing heavily as he recollected his senses. He gripped the bedsheets under his hands.

He relaxed as he reoriented himself to his surroundings. Following his shower, he came into his room to change clothes and must have fallen asleep.

"But...why would I dream about that," he thought to himself.

He swung his feet over the side of the bed and sunk them into the carpet. He brushed his pants off as he looked around for the shirt he planned to wear. As he picked it up off the floor, he heard his door creak. Looking up, he saw Lisa peeking around it, her face beet red as she meekly opened it a little more. She had changed out of her school uniform and was wearing her favorite red t-shirt and a set of simple black athletic shorts, the high cut showing off her thin but smooth legs as her bare feet twisted in the carpet. Her hair was damp, probably because of the heavy rain that still rasped at his window.

Paul wasn't sure how long she had been there, but it was obvious she hadn't just walked up. "Umm...mom says dinner will be ready soon," she stammered meekly. As Paul stood, his shirt gripped in his hand, Lisa's blush became even brighter, something Paul considered to be outside the realm of biological possibility at this point.

"Alright, I'll be right down," he replied as he pulled his shirt over his head.

"Umm," Lisa continued, "Paul...later on...can I ask you something?"

Paul blinked, a little taken aback. "Well, why can't you ask me now?"

Lisa gulped, looking down at the floor as her feet fidgeted. "It's got to be later, ok?"

Paul shrugged, unsure where this was going. "Alright. Now come on, I'm hungry."

With a nod, Lisa moved away as the two descended the stairs, and not a moment too soon as they heard Maggie yell from the dining room "Dinner's ready!"

As Paul entered the dining room behind Lisa, he looked directly at Marge. She looked away as he fixed his gaze on her, her cheeks turning pink as she no doubt recalled the events from a few hours ago. Her simple green dress hung from her as it always does, her hair drawn back into her trademark beehive. "Enjoy your nap Paul?" she asked.

"Yes," Paul started, his tone of voice causing Marge to squirm a little. "...it was outstanding."

As Paul took his seat, across from Lisa and Marge, they silently dug into the meal the housewife had prepared, nobody really talking, with both women avoiding Paul's gaze when he looked at them.

"So, what did everyone do today?" Maggie looked up as she asked, wanting to break the silence.

"Your mom," Paul thought silently to himself as Marge cleared her throat, pasting on a forced smile.

"Nothing special Maggie. Just...cleaning."

Maggie, oblivious to her mother's distressed half-truth, turned to the young man next to her, her white ankle-length t-shirt twisting with her body. "And what about you Mister Paul?"

Paul chuckled a little. "Just working on my book...and please, just call me Paul."

Maggie waited a moment as nobody else talked up over their food, throwing an indignant look across her face as she eventually returned to her meal.

As the meal concluded, Lisa and Maggie cleared the table as they went into the kitchen to do the laundry. As Marge and Paul stood, Marge placed her fingertips on the tabletop as she stared down at them. "So...Paul, how was the meal?"

She looked up to see that Paul had moved, a fact confirmed as she felt his hands land on her shoulders, gripping tightly as his body pressed up against her back, pinning her between him and the table. Marge looked back at him in shock and surprise. "The dinner was lovely," he whispered in her ear, her skin tingling from his breath.

"Paul!" Marge silently exclaimed. "I told you..."

Marge was cut off as Paul kneaded the flesh of her arms, drawing his face close to hers. Marge's breath accelerated as his scent pervaded her nostrils, the fresh memories of the sheer bliss she experienced that afternoon returning to the forefront of her mind.

"I told you," she stammered meekly, tasting his breath. "...my girls..."

Paul looked up at the kitchen, the chatter of Marge's daughters echoing from within over the clanking of dishes being washed. He released Marge and stepped back, Marge leaning on the table as she caught her breath. She turned to face him, her face a mix of anger at Paul's violation of their agreement, and the excitement her subconscious reveled in.

"I'll pretend that didn't happen," Marge muttered, her tone of voice not making either of them confident that she was truly upset. "Now...I need to talk to you about tomorrow."

"Yeah?" Paul replied, as if nothing had happened.

This lack of concern for his actions made Marge a little uneasy and excited at the same time. Shaking her head, she continued. "Tomorrow I have to go to Capital City to meet with Bart's lawyer...and then the next day he has a hearing on a motion to dismiss..." She looked up at her tenant. "I can't have the girls miss any school...I planned to spend the night in Capital City, would you be comfortable keeping an eye on Lisa and Maggie while I was away?"

Paul smiled genuinely. "Of course Marge."

Marge was uncertain if this was a good idea, but she pushed the concerns out of her mind. She didn't have much choice in the matter, Homer was barred from seeing the girls due to the restraining order, and she didn't want to impose on her neighbors...

"Alright Paul...I'm taking a cab to Capital City, so you'll have the car...before I leave, I'll post a list with the girls' schedule, emergency contacts and other information you'll need."

Paul nodded, half listening to as the two entered the kitchen. He nearly slipped on the sudsy water pile as Marge's face twisted into one of annoyance. Before her, the two girls stood staring up at their mother, covered head to toe in frothy, soapy dishwater.

Maggie pointed at her sister. "She started it."

Paul let out a disgruntled sigh as he stared at his laptop screen.

"Great...every single camera shorted out." Paul clicked his tongue as he envisioned all the work he was going to have to do now.

With a sigh, he clicked his laptop shut and reclined in his chair, stroking the bridge of his nose. He checked his watch. 1 AM. Rising out of his chair, he kicked his pants and shirt off and sat on the edge of his bed in his dark gray pinstripe boxers when he heard a knock at his door.

Paul blinked. Was it Marge? "Yes?"

The door clicked as the latch turned, opening slowly. A young girl's voice muttered, whisper-quiet. "Paul...you awake?"

Paul grinned in the dark, his memory being sparked. "Yes Lisa. What is it?"

The young woman opened the door a little more, visible behind the darkness of the hallway. "Can I come in?" she whispered.

"I suppose..."

Lisa gulped and slipped into Paul's room, taking care to close the door as quietly as possible behind her. She was dressed in her pink button-down pajama top and bottoms, the legs bunching at her ankles and slipping under her bare feet. Her blond hair hung down in disheveled strands around her face as she blushed, seeing for the first time a man wearing so little who she didn't consider a family member.

Lisa fidgeted in place, her hands folding over each other in front of her chest, forcing Paul to break the silence. "Alright Lisa...what did you have to ask me that you had to wait until everyone in the house was asleep?"

Lisa timidly drew closer. "Umm...well...I wanted to ask you something."

Paul deadpanned. "I know. What is it?"

Lisa whimpered, her logical mind overtaken by a nervousness and reservation befitting her age. "Well...there were these girls at school today..."

Paul raised his hand, interrupting Lisa. "Look, if you don't calm down, it'll be dawn before you manage to ask me anything." Lowering his hand, he patted a spot on his bed next to him. "Now come over here, take a seat, take a deep breath and ask me what you need to ask."

With more trepidation than a man walking a plank, Lisa shuffled over and sat on the bed next to Paul. When she had come to Bart asking for advice, sitting on his bed always made her more at ease, and although her brother had been replaced with this rather handsome wanderer, the familiar act helped her collect her nerves, if only a little.

Lisa let out a deep sigh. "You know, I used to come to Bart all the time like this when I needed help with boys...but he always told me to stay away from them..." She giggled a little as she reminisced the good times with her older brother.

Paul blinked. "So you wanted to ask me about a boy?"

Lisa shirked a little, her nervousness reasserting itself. "Well...like I said, there are these girls at school...I want to be friends with them...but they said that I can't be friends with them until..."

"Until what?"

Lisa's already hushed tone became even quieter and higher pitched. "...until I know how to pleasure a boy."

Paul had to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud. "So...what, you don't know what she means by that?"

Lisa shook her head. "I don't understand it! Why is that so important to them? How would I even learn such a thing?"

Paul smiled, his mind finally grasping the breadth of the situation. "Lisa, they say that to get along, you have to play along. This is what kids in high school do, and if you want to fit in, you have to be like them."

Lisa paled a little. "But..."

"I've seen it a lot with geniuses like you," Paul interrupted. "Book-smarts are plentiful, but it's hard for you to identify and get along with people."

"Paul thinks I'm a genius?" Lisa thought to herself. Her blanching skin returned to it's previous blushed state.

Paul adjusted himself on the bed. "As for learning that kind of stuff...well, they don't write a lot of books on how that you can find at a library, so..."

Paul saw his opening.

"...the best way to learn how to please a boy is to learn from a teacher."

"Huh?" Lisa exclaimed, slapping her hand over her mouth as she reeled in her voice's volume. After remaining quiet long enough to be confident she hadn't awakened anyone else, Lisa removed her hand and continued in a hushed voice. "Where would I even get a teacher for that?"

Bingo.

Without a word, Paul placed a hand on Lisa's cheek, the young blossom growing silent at his touch. Sliding his hand around the back of her head, he drew the young girl's face closer to his and pressed her lips to his own.

Lisa went bug-eyed at the sensation and surprise as she experienced her first kiss, her mind awash in a cacophony of thoughts and reactions, ranging from fear to logical analysis. As her eyes slowly drifted closed as she felt his tongue graze hers, however, the overwhelming majority of her mind felt a sheer, electrifying rush of a fantasy realized.

As Paul broke the kiss, slowly drawing Lisa's face away from his own, her eyes fluttered open as the increasingly marginalized logic center of her brain reminded her to breathe. She drew in a sharp breath, looking up at the warm smiling face filling her vision as the rest of her senses reestablished that there was a world out beyond the two of them at that moment.

Paul smiled and traced his hand away from her head, stroking under her chin as he did so. "Tell you what...if it's what you want, I can teach you...alright?"

"Alright," Lisa reflexively squeaked through a meek nod. She scarcely heard herself over the sound of her pounding heart, a new and unusual sensation rising in her belly. As her mind raced to process these new sensations, she shifted nervously. "Umm..." she exasperated, and after looking up at Paul again, suddenly rose from the bed and scampered out of the room, closing the door behind her with a quiet click.

Paul grinned as he shifted his body, turning and removing the picture he was using to cover the peep hole as he peeked at just what reactions his actions have wrought.

As Lisa closed her door behind her, she pressed her back to it, her knees buckling as she struggled to catch her breath.

"He kissed me..." she muttered to herself, scarcely able to believe it. She clinched the seam of buttons over her heart in her fist, reliving the bliss of the moment in her mind with a girlish giggle. Releasing her top, she drew herself back up and flopped herself on her bed, placing her hand over her hard-beating heart as she stared at the ceiling. Her legs hung off the bed, rubbing together as her senses quietly processed an odd, moist feeling growing between them.

Clenching her fist, the sensation in her belly began to spread upward into her chest, the smooth fabric drawing across her skin as the top few buttons popped loose. The cool night air splashed onto the exposed skin of the center of her chest, causing Lisa to squirm a little on her bed.

Lisa bit her lower lip, her eyes drifting shut as she felt a dull ache rise from two points on her chest. Reaching through the opening under her top, the young woman twitched as her finger pressed against the hard nipple quivering between the pink fabric and the sensitive flesh below. She drew in a sharp breath as her eyes opened again, straining to process the new, almost electric sensation the touch elicited.

She never knew her body could act this way before. As Lisa felt the lump in her fingertips, she gave her nipple a soft squeeze. It was like she set fire to her skin as she drew in a loud gasp, craning her head forward as her entire body flexed and curved upward from the sensation, her muscles spasming and her grip growing even tighter. Her other hand, with the other end of her top in its' palm, gripped tightly and jerked to the side, the remaining buttons of her top popping open with a cascade of quiet clicks.

Lisa squirmed as she felt the cool air splash onto her exposed breast, the still-developing mounds barely rising above the contours of her belly. She felt the sensitive flesh adjust to the contours of her hand as her chest heaved frantically under it, her palms flexing and adding to the confusion and sensation pervading her nervous system.

The young girl pursed her lips together to suppress a high-pitched moan, unaware of the audience viewing her show through the peephole to the neighboring room. Releasing her grip on the fabric, her pajama top laid splayed below her as her freed hand scraped the pulsing flesh of her abdomen. Almost as if on instinct, Lisa slid her hand under her pink pajama bottoms, her push southward slowing as she looked down at what she was doing, the logical part of her mind like a spectator as the rest of her discovered feeling locked deep within her genetic memory.

Lisa inhaled sharply as her fingertips grazed her skin, pushing through the sparse hairs of her emerging pubis, following the curve around between her legs. Her breathing quickened, her exploration of her body sparking waves of sensation up her body as her fingers drew closer to their mysterious destination.

Her index finger found the target Lisa did not know she was searching for, caressing the small bump as her fingernail scraped against it.

The sudden explosion of electricity up her back was too much for Lisa to handle, her entire body buckling as she opened her mouth wide, letting out an audible "Aaaah!" as the body under her hands pushed themselves further into her palms. She reflexively squeezed her breast in her fingers, the flesh she had contouring to her hand and drawing away from her body, only adding to the overload her nerves were experiencing all over her body.

Lisa's body lowered back to the bed as she panted heavily, her mind wrapping around what she had just discovered. Her hands fell next to her head as her naked torso heaved in the dark, her eyes drooping as her mind analyzed the sensation of her first orgasm against what she knew about it from awkward science class presentations and television.

It was something she couldn't read about, or learn more about without experiencing it first hand.

As her eyes drifted shut, Lisa smiled slightly and slid herself under her bed covers, silently drifting off to sleep.

In the next room over, her hidden observer did much of the same, although his smile was for different reasons.