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Eric was a senior pharmaceutical chemist, and a lifetime of experience had taught him the value of patience.
So when Eric noticed the small packet of pills was missing from the bedside table in his room, he did nothing – only waited.
After all, they had vanished on the same night that he had hosted his brother’s family for dinner, and he was pretty sure the only one who had gone near his room was his brother’s bitchy adult daughter Ashley, who had excused herself from the table to use the bathroom and been gone a suspiciously long time.
(It had been a blessing to everyone when she did, as Ashley had spent the whole dinner arguing shrilly that disabled parking spaces should be saved for people who were actually in a hurry, like her, instead of “retards and cripples”.)
And so Eric was unsurprised when Ashley turned up on his doorstep unannounced a week later, wearing a cute sun dress and a bitchy sneer.
“What was in those pills?” she demanded.
“What pills?” said Eric innocently.
“Don’t play stupid,” she said. “You’re my uncle, you’re not a retard. You know what pills.”
“You mean the pills you stole from my house last week?” said Eric.
“Yes, the pills you had lying around in your room,” said Ashley, rolling her eyes. “What was in them? I thought they were, like, molly or something, because you’re a chemist and you can get that stuff easily. But they’re not, are they?”
“No,” admitted Eric. “They’re a byproduct from work. We were working on a new birth control drug, but the most recent product just turned out to do nothing except produce a mild buzz.”
“Is that all?” asked Ashley.
“Well, and they’re incredibly addictive,” added Eric. He feigned worry. “You didn’t *take* any, did you?”
“I took them all,” said Ashley. “Your stupid pills barely got me high at all – and now I need more. You owe me some for leaving them lying around. It’s fucking irresponsible.”
“I tell you what,” said Eric. “Say, ‘I’m sorry for stealing your pills, Uncle Eric, I’m a very bad girl,’ and I’ll give you one.”
She looked at him. “You can’t be serious,” she said.
He shrugged. “Or you can go without. But you can’t get these pills anywhere else.”
She stared at him defiantly for long seconds – and then, finally, said, “I’m sorry for stealing your pills, Uncle Eric. I’m a very bad girl.”
“Well done, Ashley,” said Eric, smiling. He had a pill in his pocket, in anticipation of this moment, and he pulled it out now and pressed it against her lips. She opened her mouth and took the pill from him, still staring at him bitchily, before swallowing it dry.
“Now run along home,” he told her.
But she was back the next day.
“What do you want, Ashley?” he asked.
“You know what,” she pouted.
“Are you going to do this every day?” he asked her.
Panic and fear briefly crossed her face, because she knew that she needed another pill, and no plan for how to *stop* needing it.
“Just give me a packet and you won’t see me for a month,” she said.
He laughed. “No, I don’t think so,” he said. “Maybe I like getting visits from you. How about you give your uncle a kiss?”
“What? Gross!” she protested. “Fuck you!”
He shrugged, and closed the door in her face.
It took her a full minute to knock again. He re-opened the door, and waited.
“Okay,” she said.
“Okay?” he asked.
“You can have a kiss,” she said.
She clearly expected him to kiss her on the cheek or something, but instead, he waited, and made her come to him. Blushing, she leaned in to kiss the side of his mouth – but at that point he grabbed her hair, and kissed her full on the lips, pushing his tongue into her bitchy little mouth. She struggled, but couldn’t get away.
When he was done, he smiled. “Here’s your pill,” he said, and passed it to her. “If you’re here again tomorrow, you’d better start by thanking me for kissing you, or you get nothing.”
She was there again the next day, blushing.
“Thank you for kissing me, Uncle Eric,” she said.
“You’re welcome,” he said. “Would you like another one?”
Her face showed her indecision. She did *not* want to kiss him – but she wanted another pill, and didn’t want to piss him off.
“Yes, please,” she said. So again, he grabbed her hair and forced his lips against hers. She wasn’t a very good kisser – yet – but knowing how much she hated it made it hot all the same.
When he was done, he said, “Coming here every day must be a lot of hassle for you.”
“It is,” she said. “Can I just have a packet of them, please? Like, just for a week?”
“I’ve got a better idea,” said Eric. “Every girl should have their independence, right? You must be tired of living at home. How about you move in with me? You can get out from under your parents’ roof, and it will be easy for you to get your pill each day.”
She was hesitant. “I don’t know,” she said.
“That’s not a request, Ashley,” said Eric, sternly. “You say yes, and you get your pill, and I go set it up with your parents. Or else you walk away with no pill.”
She blushed. “Then… yes, I guess.”
“Good girl,” he told her. “Ask me for another kiss.”
It took five days to set up the logistics of Ashley moving in with him. Her parents were very enthusiastic, eager to get rid of the little bitch and have their house to themselves again for the first time since she was born.
In the mean time, Ashley visited each day, and Eric trained her to ask him to kiss her. Each time, he got her to initiate the interaction, until on the fourth day she asked him to kiss her three times without prompting.
It wasn’t entirely unscripted. She was learning to ask him to kiss her when she wanted something, or when he looked displeased with her, as a way to earn his favour, but over time she would respond to more and more subtle cues – and then, if he chose *not* to kiss her, she would interpret it as a punishment, and become even more desperate.
In between visits, Eric arranged the room Ashley would be staying in. He decorated it in shades of pink, deliberately making it look more like a child’s bedroom than something fit for a teenager. He bought plush teddy-bears, papered the walls in a bunny-and-duckling print wallpaper, and deliberately added a “learn the alphabet” poster to one wall and bought a set of child’s building blocks to place in a corner.
He also installed multiple surveillance cameras in her room – and in the bathroom, and the toilet, and any other place where he thought Ashley might try to have privacy. He wasn’t subtle. He *wanted* her to see them, and know that he was watching – and then choose to stay anyway. (He did place a couple of more discreet cameras, though, to catch her if she thought she had found somewhere that the obvious cameras couldn’t see.)
The day before she moved in, Eric refused to give Ashley a pill, so that on moving day she was desperate from withdrawal. Any other time, she might have balked when she saw the demeaning bedroom décor, but instead she just went pale, then blushed, then shot him a look of pure hatred – before turning to her parents, who were helping her move, and said, “Oh, wow, this is *exactly* how I wanted my bedroom. This is so amazing!”
Eric savoured every part of her body language that day – each of the many ways that Ashley conveyed how disgusted she was by him and furious at his power over her. They all made it that much more delicious to know that she was moving into her new infantilised room anyway.
When her parents were gone, and she was all settled in, he gave her a piece of paper.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“A script,” he said. “You’re going to memorise it so that you can recite it without looking at the paper. Then you’re going to come and read it out to me while I film you.”
She looked at the paper. “Fuck off,” she said. “No.”
He shrugged. “I guess you don’t want your pill, then.” He left her there, alone in the pink bedroom with the script.
He actually admired her restraint. She stayed in her bedroom until after it went dark. When dinner went past without hearing from her, he began to worry that he’d overplayed his hand, and fear what consequences that might bring.
But as the clock turned to 9 pm, he finally heard her door open. He waited, and soon enough she emerged into the lounge room. He set his phone to begin filming.
She was shaking a little from withdrawal, and her eyes had a certain desperation, but she didn’t look too bad, he thought. Still sexy, in that bratty way. There was still a bitchy, rebellious intelligence working behind her eyes. But for now, at least, she was defeated.
“Hey, Uncle Eric,” she said, sitting opposite him. “I think I need more structure in my life. I haven’t been a very good person the last couple of years.”
He smiled. She had learned the script well. “Oh?” he asked. “What were you thinking of?”
“Well, I need more physical discipline,” she said. “My parents never spanked me, and I think I would have turned out better if they had.” She paused, blushing. “Do you think… you could spank me when I need it, Uncle Eric?”
“You mean on your butt?” he asked.
She blushed deeper. She clearly hated this – and he loved it.
“Wherever you think I deserve,” she said finally.
“If I do this, there’s no backing out,” Eric said. “I don’t want to turn you over my knee and then have you go crying to your parents afterwards, or saying you don’t want it anymore.”
“No,” said Ashley. “I’m giving up my right to withdraw consent later. After this point, you can spank me whenever you think I need it, no matter what I say or do.”
“Okay,” said Eric. “Seeing as you want it so much. Is that all?”
Ashley wanted to say, “Yes,” but her script wasn’t over yet.
“I think you need to keep a close eye on me,” she said. “Could you install some software on my phone and computer so you can monitor me?”
“I probably can,” Eric conceded. “You know that means you won’t have any privacy? I’ll be able to see every chat, every photo, every Google search, every video call?”
“Yes,” said Ashley. Her lips were tight with fury and humiliation. “That’s okay. I give you permission.”
“Okay,” said Eric. “Anything else?”
“And… I think I’ve been dressing inappropriately,” said Ashley. “Do you think you could take control of what I wear? Keep all of my clothes and decide what I should put on each day?”
“That’s a lot of responsibility,” said Eric. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she said. She blushed as she said the next line, hating every word of it. “I’m just such a slut, and I think with my pussy all the time. I’ll dress like a whore if I’m given the chance. I need you to control me or else I’ll just act like a fuckdoll all the time.”
“Very well,” said Eric. “I accept. And you’re sure you want all this?”
“Yes,” said Ashley. “And I give up my ability to change my mind later.”
“It’s a deal then,” said Eric – and stopped filming on the phone.
“Fuck you,” spat Ashley, as soon as the phone was off. “You don’t think you’re actually going to spank me, do you?”
“I am if you want to get your pills,” said Eric. “Of course, if you’re a well-behaved little niece, maybe you won’t need spanking.”
She showed him her middle finger.
He took a pill out of his pocket and put it in the palm of his hand.
“You want your treat?” he asked.
She reached out for it – but he slapped her hand.
“No,” he told her. “Like a pet.”
She didn’t understand for a moment – and then she did. Blushing, she leaned down and licked the pill out of his palm with her tongue. Her body shivered as she tasted it, and she sighed with relief and delight as she swallowed it.
“Good girl,” said Eric. “I think you’re going to learn to get along with me just fine…”