The Kingdom of God's Grace Ch. 01

The Kingdom of God’s Grace

Chapter 1 – Caretakers

By LoyalHound

All characters are fictitious and are adults.

---

“Who is your owner?” the angry man demanded.

“My caretaker is Samuel Smith,” I said handing him Sam’s card. “You may contact him if you believe my conduct warrants correction, but he is a patient man who will hear my side of the story and review the video before administering any correction,” I said, gesturing to the omnipresent cameras. “Making a false report to a caretaker will reflect poorly on your social credit score if reported to the authorities, which Sam will definitely do.”

“A real man would know what you need without your so-called side. You drive like an idiot. I should take you over my knee myself.”

I looked at him. “That would be assault. You are not and will never be a caretaker. Certainly, you will never be my caretaker. I suggest you direct any further criticism of my driving to my caretaker.”

A police officer had been walking toward us across the parking lot while we spoke. He interrupted asking “Is there a problem here? If the woman has given you her owner’s contact information, you should take up her misconduct with him as he, not you, is permitted to administer discipline to this lady. You’ve gone too far, sir. If you do not back off and let her get on with her business, I will arrest you.”

“That bitch, why are you taking her side?”

“Commandment 1, ‘Women are to be protected and cherished. All women will be assigned a caretaker who will guild her, protect her, and correct her as he deems necessary.’ That is the law of The Church and the law of the land. You are not her caretaker. You are out of line and I will report your abusive language and unmutual attitude to the Bureau of Brotherhood.”

“She damn near caused a wreck.”

“No cars were wrecked and any discipline is between her and her owner. The lady is right; you will never be a caretaker. Now move on and let her get on with her business.”

The angry man left. The policeman looked at me and ordered “Uniform inspection.” I stood straighter and put my hands behind my neck. He looked me over. Stockings and flats, skirt shorter than knee length, sleeveless top, and a titanium collar with my caretaker’s tags locked loosely about my neck. “Everything looks in order. How do you like the titanium collar? My 19-year-old is in stainless steel but she’s been bugging me to get her titanium because it’s lighter and she likes the color.”

“Oh, it is lighter. Most of the time, I barely notice it if I’m not on a lead, though I never forget it’s there. It’s not a huge difference, but it’s definitely better.”

“Good to know. Have a blessed day.”

“Thank you, officer. May God walk with you and protect you.”

I entered the store and got the makings for chili and fresh salad for tonight’s dinner, along with an unsweetened cherry pie for desert and fresh pineapple to go with breakfast. Then I drove to Sam’s and carried the stuff in.

Sam is my older brother and had been my caretaker since I was first collared at age 18. It’s been five years and I still get spankings and even canings on occasion, but mostly I’ve learned to stay out of trouble, follow his rules, give him the respect he deserves and to never, ever lie to him.

The cane is the most intense pain, but I think I hate it most when he uses the tawse on me, since it does so little overt damage that he doesn’t hesitate to give me an unsparing application of it when I’ve earned it.

As soon as I entered, I put down the groceries and removed my clothing. One of Sam’s rules is that, when we are here alone, I am to be naked at all times. I’m also forbidden to close the bathroom door or put any barrier between him and me.

“Deirdre?” Sam called, “I’ve got a guest but go ahead and strip anyway. Start dinner for three and join me in my study when you can spare a minute.”

I got out the electric frying pan and stared the chili. My recipe is based Wick Fowler’s original recipe, not the version they promote with Two Alarm Chili. Tomatoes instead of tomato paste, chopped onions instead of onion flakes, crushed garlic instead of garlic powder, these things make the chili lighter. When I got to the part in the first phase where I had the beef, onions, and most of the seasoning at a low boil, I covered the fry pan and set the timer for 15 minutes and joined Sam and his friend in the study.

They were both seated when I entered and knelt facing them as my brother had taught me: knees spread wide, hands palms up on my thighs, back straight and head held high.

I looked at Sam’s guest. He looked about 35 with red hair and a slight build.

“I’ve started a batch of chili but I haven’t added the cayenne pepper yet. Do you like your chili spicy or mild?” I asked Sam’s guest.

“Sam says you normally make it spicy which is fine by me. My name’s Corry Littleton by the way, and I know you’re Deidra Smith of Samuel Smith. We’ve been discussing you.”

I looked at Sam and he said “You’re 23 and unmated. The Church is becoming concerned that you are not properly fulfilling your role in God’s plan. They feel you might benefit from a change in caretaker. Corry’s going to be trying you out tonight, so give yourself an enema after dinner then lube and plug yourself.”

I nodded. The Church banned artificial birth control, so my brother is required to use my rear and my mouth and Mister Littleton would as well. While a caretaker is required to provide for the sexual needs and training of the women in his care, he is forbidden any act which might cause pregnancy unless he is also her husband. In a very technical sense, I am still a virgin. I am, however, well trained in oral and anal sex.

“This girl is grateful for the guidance and correction of The Church and her appointed caretaker,” I said to Littleton. “Will you be staying the night or am I to go to your place this evening?”

“Your brother is putting me in the guest bedroom tonight. We have much to discuss concerning your future. He says you work as a water resource engineer for the State of Franklin DNR. Do you find that work satisfying?”

“I’m doing plan review and I like helping people thru the process, but half the time I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m only starting to get good at the job now. I do want to continue to work there, but maybe not in plan review.”

“As long as you’re happy there I see no reason to mess with it. Your brother has been telling me his rules for your conduct. Mostly they’re pretty standard. Are there any that you resent?”

“Not anymore. I resented some of them five years ago, but my brother’s guidance, and his willingness to use the strap on me, made me see the wisdom of his rules. God has blessed me with the guidance of his representative and I now accept my brother’s rules without question or objection.”

“What about your duty to marry and bear children?”

“The Church has never paired me with an acceptable man and I’ve not found one on my own.”

“You’ve been neglecting Church social events. If I become your caretaker, attending those events will become a priority.”

“This girl understands and will comply with that rule if you become this girl’s caretaker.”

“Actually, that’s now one of my rules,” said my brother. “The Church is hosting a dance next Friday at the grand ballroom and you will attend if I’m still your caretaker.”

“This girl understands and will comply,” I said. “I should return to the kitchen to continue preparing your dinner.

“Please do,” my brother said.

I got up and went back to the kitchen and continued cooking the chili and making up three salads.

About a half hour later I served them dinner on the kitchen table and then took my plates and flatware and knelt on a pad by my brother’s side and ate with my plates on a small low table as a sign of my submission to God and my appointed guardian. At one point we discussed the men I had dated and who might be a good match for me.

When I told my brother about the angry man in the parking lot, he said he’d already reviewed the video. I wasn’t at fault, but he thought I could have driven more defensively and he told me to remind him to add two strokes with the tawse to my next spanking.

After we finished, I cleared the tables, put the leftover in the refrigerator, and loaded the dishwasher. The I went to my room to get the enema kit. My room has no door so I’m never tempted to put a barrier between myself and my brother. I normally sleep on a pad at the foot of my brother’s bed, so the bed is little used. On the dresser lay the instruments of my correction: A tawse, a strap, a paddle, a riding crop, two canes of different weights, and a rubber dog whip that always leaves welts. There were also a set of leather wrist and ankle bands for securing me in place as needed.

I took the enema kit and a large butt plug went to the bathroom. A single quart would do for tonight and I gave myself that and then sat on the toilet until I was done letting it out. I carefully lubed my asshole and the plug and inserted it in up my rear. I went back to my room and put on my wrist and arm bands so I could be easily restrained if Mister Littleton wanted me to be. I also clipped a leash to my collar.

It was time for evening prayer, so I knelt in my room facing east, looked straight at the camera on that wall and prayed to the one true and all-powerful God, perfect in his wisdom and infinite in his mercy.

“Dear God, I thank you for this day and the goodness you have shown me. I thank you for your divine guidance thru the person of my brother, who you have made strong and wise. Give me the strength to truly submit to him as I submit to you, and if I am to have a new caretaker, make him strong and wise and kind and unflinching in his duty to guild me and correct me, amen.”

My phone beeped indicating that my prayer had been logged by The Church.

I joined Sam and Mister Littleton in the living room where I knelt near my brother’s feet and we watched the news on the big screen terminal. Things were going well in The Kingdom of God’s Grace, though there are always heretics stirring up trouble and committing acts of violence. Some of their women had recently rebelled against their assigned caretakers and had to be enslaved in order to be properly guided and protected. This is hard but is the path they’ve chosen. If they will not submit voluntarily to God’s plan, still they must submit for the good of their soul. Some of their men had social credit scores so low they were being subject to involuntary conversion so they too could be assigned caretakers.