Fidelity's Growth Experience

AUGUST 19, 2017

"Not cheering how you drag that club foot across Fidelity's corporate floor."

"York, at least I don't mince along, I think you're barely hetero."

"Gnomey old bean, what are you doing with those resumes?"

"Never look a gift Social Security number in the mouth."

"Not even going there. I hope Fidi doesn't ask after them."

"What's the deal with the little blonde bitch, the typist? I think she mouthed off to Fidi."

"Yes, probably slapped her too. Rossi, who is a sales clerk at the S&M gift shop, Dungeonopolis?"

"The one who wears that brooch."

"Yes. She pretended to catch Fidi shoplifting last fall, and caned her-it was bullshit, Rossi's such a bitch, but Fidi liked it so much that Rossi was giving her a little ass-kicking now and then..."

"And what about the typist? Rossi's an old hag, this little blonde girl..."

"Yes, that's Hyannis. She's Rossi's stepdaughter or something. She got hired to be a typist in Fidi's office, but she can't type or word process or anything."

"Just kicks Fidi around?"

"Someone has to. We have to go a doctor's after this. He wants me to cut down on salt, high blood pressure stuff."

"Is it bad, old man?"

"Doc said it could be fatal."

"York, there's a better chance of you getting hit by a dropping safe, like in a cartoon."

"Or a grand piano, Gnome. That was far more popular in Looney Tunes"

"Yes, of course. York, there's no health problem with you, or me, Only the good die young."

"Ain't that the truth."

JANUARY 4, 2019

Miss Fidelity Ovingham Sethridge bit her lip as she stood uncertainly in front of the Gnome.

How can he do this to me? I'm the Senior Director of the Buttermilk County Center for Economic Development.

I've studied in London! I was a Peace Corps volunteer in Maputo!

"Gnome, York isn't here anymore. I'm the one with the good job, and you-I'm not sure what you do, but you really have no status in this house to get after me for staying out late. I'm thirty-four years old."

The Gnome smiled, his yellow teeth shining. He couldn't believe how gorgeous this little creature was, his late friend's slave-girl.

Curly dark hair, big tits, the jeans were so tight. But was she sending him mixed messages? After all, Fidi had laid the Ping-Pong paddle and the leather strap on the coffee table, and then awakened him, pulling him out of bed to tell him how late she'd come in.

As if reading his confusion, Fidi said "I'm all grown up, but York told me that I should be in by eleven. But I'm in my thirties, and who are you to tell me what to do?"

This last statement was said rather accusingly, as if Gnome had been arguing with her. Of course her Master was gone, felled by a cerebral hemorrhage six weeks ago.

Fidi seemed to pout, and she turned around slightly. Was she wagging her butt at him?

The Gnome had enjoyed sponging off York, it was easier than picking up stray credit card receipts or peddling autographed pictures of Jesus at the nursing home on Creswell and Fessenden.

"Look, Fidi, I love you very much, just as your Master did." the Gnome spoke slowly.

"Y-yes sir." Fidi tried to smile.

"And you've been very nice letting me live here even after York passed away."

"York thought so much of you, Gnome."

Ah, but did Fidi? The Gnome had overheard her laughing with a girlfriend about how the new lodger resembled "Humpty Dumpty".

How odd, to be discussing all this at three in the morning. Of course at her age, she shouldn't be out clubbing, and really, why get him out of bed to tell him about it? But there was the paddle and the strap.

Gnome picked up the Ping-Pong paddle.

Yes, it had the rubber stuff scraped off it. Gnome had seen York hitting Fidi's bare butt once or twice, and also her pretty breasts before he'd passed on.

And Fidi had complained that York shouldn't allow the Gnome to wank his Willy and stare as she was getting her punishments. She'd been much more reined in before York died.

Though she did make some reference to the Gnome as "that hunchback." Ugh.

Now she was out all the time, it was a party down situation quite a bit for the confused girl, as York could no longer regulate her to stay home and do her chores.

The Gnome looked at Fidi and-such a hot little thing. If he spanked her, she might get mad and throw him out, even if she did instigate it. On the other hand, if he didn't spank her, she might throw him out and get some other layabout to do this.

"Now Fidi, you know I must punish you. Take down your pants.

"P-please, Gnome, I'm a big girl now."

The Gnome had greatly enjoyed the spectacle of Fidi receiving her punishment, and had jacked off to completion in the bathroom, drooling on one of her 36 DD brassieres, a vulgar pink thing. He had to see this as an unbelievable opportunity.

In the orphanage, they'd discussed Life Skills and Career Opportunities. You had to seize your opportunity, the nuns had advised.

And after all, she'd brought the paddle out, right?

The Gnome stepped over to Fidi, shaking his head gently. "When you make me sad I have to punish you, and it's important that you remember the rules."

Now tears of humiliation welled in Fidi's eyes, and her lower lip pooched out.

"I'm a big girl now, Gnome."

"If you really were a big girl, you would behave like one. Big girls know they need their sleep, and don't you want to be up to go running tomorrow?"

"B-but Gnome-"

"Fidi, if I have to take your jeans down myself, you know it will be worse."

This, of course would be the turning point. If she changed her mind and called the gendarmes-a veteran of five mental hospitals and two prisons, the Gnome's future could be bleak.

Penitentiary food is so deplorable. I hate powdered milk.

Still, this is worth it. Isn't it?

What else could he do to her? Maybe he could pop out his glass eye-it had an American flag in the pupil-and make her suck on it.

"Must I unsnap your dungarees myself, young lady?"

Fidi stared at the floor, sobbing silently, her long dark curls falling around her face.

The Gnome held his breath to see what she would do.

The purple nails extending from the tiny white fingers dropped to her pants and she did indeed unsnap them, pulling them down, and there were the demure beige panties Gnome had sniffed more than once in the laundry basket.

Now Fidi looked up at the Gnome with welling eyes.

But the Gnome was implacable, and Fidi slowly pulled down her panties as well.

"Didn't your York instruct you to keep your naughty parts shaved? What a jungle, Miss Fidi."

Of course it all went to hell after York had died. No discipline at all. She no longer scrubbed the bathroom floor, tsk tsk.

Oh, that plump bottom. Uplifted. The Gnome was getting erect looking at her, but he had to stay in character. Solemn.

He toyed with the paddle as she stood before him, shuddering in humiliation.

Normally the Gnome didn't do well with girls, hare lipped creature that he was. Having a girl who looked like this, pretty, sophisticated, fragrant.

"Did you want me over your knee, Gnome?" Fidi inquired, breaking his reverie.

"Yes, I'm afraid so." The Gnome took Fidi by the arm and pulled her across his lap, her raven tresses spilling to the floor.

The Gnome lifted his paddle and brought it down, relatively hard, on Fidi's right bottom cheek. The smack was resounding and then there was the red mark on Fidi's skin.

She shifted slightly and the Gnome could see her pubic mound from the back of her legs.

This wasn't the Gnome's first BDSM experience. He had met a few submissive girls in his travels, and had recently spent a tenure with a cabbie faggot who needed lots of corporal punishment.

His Slave-Master resume certainly was building!

The Gnome lifted the paddle and brought it down again, hoping she wouldn't jump off his lap and call the cops. On the other hand, it would be nice if this elicited a scream or two.

"Gnome, after you use the paddle, York's razor strop is in the hall."

Oh, okay.

The Gnome raised the paddle and landed it about fifteen times, and Fidi screamed and sobbed, but she didn't move, and her rear was starting to get very pink.

"York used to make me kneel on a broom" Fidelity said hopefully.

The Gnome whacked her again, and wondered if his hearing aid battery was dead.

"All right, Fidi. Up off my lap. You've been a bad girl, running around all hours of the night and I'm going to help your remember not to do that."

Fidi pulled herself off the Gnome's lap and stood in front of him, her panties to her knees.

There was slight labial drool coursing down Fidi's right leg.

The Gnome took a deep breath.

All this and I'm living rent free.

"Take off all your clothes and go get me the razor strop.

"Really sir?" Fidi bit her full lower lip. But she pulled her clingy top off and then her bra, and there were her glorious, tumbling breasts.

Fidi thought about it, as she pulled off the top. The Gnome was a curio. Master York had seen the little man panhandling outside Lucifer's Legion and had brought him home, and here we were.

"It's a riot, Fidi. I saw some pompous ass give the Gnome a quarter, and then Gnome shook the fellows hand, quite servile in his thanks, and somehow he removed the chap's Rolex."

"And this is what you want in our home?" Fidelity had asked icily, and of course had been caned for impertinence.

But now Fidi regarded the odd little man with the misshapen head and regretted nothing.

For, of course Fidelity had always been a pushover of sorts, the kind of girl you'd borrow money from and then just "forget" to return it.

In her early twenties, she'd had a cruel roomie, Cezanne, who was the bitchy one of the sorority. Cezanne and her friend Danita would encourage Fidi to go on a "nature walk" and then have her ambushed by a group of boys...and then Cezanne would order Fidi to remove all her clothes.

"Please, Cezanne, don't be like this" Fidi would beg, and she could have knocked Cezanne out, she was an Orange Belt and an accomplished kickboxer.

But Cezanne would merrily shake her head, and the fellas would casually throw pebbles and crushed beer cans at Fidi until she relented and began unbuttoning her top.

Oh, how Fidelity would sob, and finally she'd stand naked and shivering (there were many walks such as this, usually between December and February)

"Okay, paw her boys, Danita and I shaved her twat earlier."

Yes, bald down there, and so exposed. And some frat-boy would take her bra or panties as a sort of souvenir.

Once, when Cezanne and Fidi were night-clubbing at the Smitten Kitten, Cezanne had pulled poor Fidelity into the men's bathroom and suck off five Delta pledges, on her knees, and yes, a couple of the boys peed on her.

Urinated on by a callow youth, and Cezanne and the rest of the sorority just laughed about it.

So humiliated, and yet, so hot. Cezanne had really made Fidi hot. Fidi got a reputation at Buttermilk State U. as the pitiful girl, and if she bitched too much, Cezanne would whip her tender buttocks with a wire coat hanger. It was astounding what Fidi would put up with.

And later, Fidi paid off Cezanne's student loans, and for legal bills, as Cezanne had a penchant for kicking in saloon doors drunk at four a.m.

Fidi had munched Cezanne's carpet all the way through business school, and she'd also sucked any dick that Cezanne ordered. But wasn't that over now?

What about all Fidelity's "Inner Child" therapy?

No, and here Fidi was, naked in front of the Gnome, all four foot eleven of him.

Awaiting a punishment she didn't really deserve, right?

Fidi put the razor strop in the Gnome's gnarly little hand and he caressed it a bit.

She looked so funny towering over him. Fidelity had once been an international model.

"This is quite a piece of leather, Fidelity."

Fidi stared at her toes. "Yes sir, I've gotten it many times from York. It keeps me on the straight and narrow, or it did, until he passed."

Fidi tried not to sob, she missed York so much.

The Gnome gazed at Fidi greedily. "What about on your pretty breasts?"

36 DD at least, and look how they stand up!

Fidi squeezed tears out of her eyes. "My buh-boobs?"

"That would help you remember to keep decent hours. Put your hands behind your back, grab one wrist with the other and arch your chest, jut out those honeys, Fidelity."

Her pretty breasts?

"Sir p-please."

"I was just going to give you five across your nipples, but let's make it ten. That will teach you not to jerk me around."

"Gnome-"

"No, you want to wear those whorish blouses and embarrass our sober household, and now you'll pay for it, Missy."

Fidi's lip trembled. Her tits were very tender. Could she explain this to the little man?

"Gnome I-my nipples are sensitive-"

"Wow. Fifteen whacks now. Shame I don't have a cane to use on them, that might make you wake up just a little bit, my Fidi. We could try for twenty."

Fidi began weeping, but she put her hands behind her back.

She knew there was a bamboo cane somewhere, and the thought of getting that on her rack made her crazy with horniness and fear.

Fidi closed her eyes.

She heard the Gnome panting, how disgusting.

WHACK! The belt slapped her nipples harm, the dwarf had glorious aim.

WHACK! CRACK! SNAP!

"Oh this is so exciting, Fidelity, I'm like marble, dearest."

"I could s-suck-"

"No, don't distract the Gnome now."

SMACK! THWACK! BAP!

Fidi bent over, gritting her teeth.

"Up now girlie. just a few more."

Fidi was out of her gourd with pain, but overcome with lust as well. A part of her, a strong part, wanted to bend down and suck the Gnome off, really, really badly.

But she straightened up, tossing back her tresses and kept from screaming as the Gnome, forgetting to count, gave her twenty more swats, and an additional number on her flat stomach.

Fidi's chest was nearly purple, but her nipples were so excited.

Would she be allowed to masturbate?

Fidi finally fell to her knees, crying softly and the Gnome watched her, and thought of the letter he'd received from her old friend Cezanne.

What interesting things Cezanne had put Fidi through, suspending her from a tree branch and having paint ball enthusiasts drill her creamy white bod with balls of red, blue, yellow, purple and orange...how that must've hurt.

'Twas a shame that Cezanne couldn't come here and help the Gnome with Fidelity's further training. But, Cezanne was living in Heidelberg, Germany where she was engaged to the drummer of a band called "Poisoned Popcorn."

Sot he Gnome would have to be creative on his own, it seemed.

The Gnome noticed that Fidi was surreptitiously masturbating, fingering way into the vaj as she crouched. This indeed was a true masochist.

"Stop that!" the Gnome ordered, leaning down to slap Fidi's jaw. "Put your hands behind your back before I get a school rule and whip your palms. You've not earned the right to cum."

The Gnome was amazed at how willing Fidi was to obey him. She was such a beautiful girl!