Message-ID: <24165asstr$958522284@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
X-Original-Message-ID: <20000516205045.86704.qmail@hotmail.com>
From: "Cheryl Allen Tessler" <cat47@hotmail.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; format=flowed
Subject: {ASSM} Jenny IV (slavery, Mff, nc)
Date: Tue, 16 May 2000 20:11:24 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2000/24165>
X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Moderator-ID: newsman, IceAltar
Disclaimer: If you are offended by sexually oriented material, read no
further. If you are under eighteen, whether you are offended or not, read
no further.
Jenny
Chapter IV
After leaving Jenny's quarters, Maurice immediately went in search of
the slave with blond hair and green eyes. Brief though that description
was, the BB population at DiMarco's was small enough that hair and eye color
would probably suffice. After questioning a few escorts who were stationed
by the blockhouses, he was shown to Janet's quarters.
"Who is her master?" Maurice asked the escort.
"Richard," the escort replied, "but he's not there. He saw her for
about an hour this morning, before breakfast, then left. I went to see her
after breakfast. I think she's the most gorgeous slave who's ever been
here. I'd work here for free just to have her once a day."
"Thanks," said Maurice when they had reached Janet's room. Maurice was
only mildly interested in the escort's opinion of Janet. The escort himself
wasn't much older than twenty, and he was bound to esteem any girl who had
sex with him, even a slave.
When Maurice entered Janet's quarters, she immediately sat. Since he
could be mistaken for a customer, Maurice had to introduce himself.
"I am a master at DiMarco's. Did you meet a new slave this morning at
breakfast, a younger girl with light brown hair and brown eyes?"
Janet didn't think she had done anything wrong, but nearly every
question she had been asked in the last two weeks had been a prelude to
punishment.
"Yes, sir," she answered cautiously.
"What was the slave's name?" Maurice could tell she was anxious. "I
simply want to make sure we are talking about the same person."
"Jenny, sir," replied Janet.
"Good," said Maurice. "At lunch time, an escort will take you and my
slave to lunch together." He turned and walked out before Janet could get
out the requisite 'Yes, sir.'
Maurice could not help but notice that the escort had not exaggerated
concerning Richard's new slave. She was stunningly beautiful, one might
even say glamorous. A shame, thought Maurice, that she was Richard's slave.
Richard had only three training techniques: the cane, the strap, and the
whip. Maurice again found the escort and gave him instructions for
lunchtime. Since he had finished with Jenny's training until later in the
afternoon, he directed his steps towards the employee lounge. As Maurice
entered the lounge, another one of DiMarco's employee's received a visitor.
Jenny had her first customer.
He was a man in his early forties who had been visiting DiMarco's since
he was a teenager. He was rather tight with his money, though, and wouldn't
pay for the higher priced slaves posing around DiMarco's new fountain. BB's
were priced much more reasonably. A man could get a blow job from a BB for
about the price of a pack of cigarettes. The only drawback was that the
customer didn't get to pick the slave he wanted. To ensure that each BB got
about the same amount of experience, customers were assigned to BB's in
turn. Had Fred Brockman been able to choose between Jenny and Janet,
Jenny's first experience with a customer would have been postponed. On the
other hand, Fred was primarily concerned with the sex of the slave he paid
for, not what she looked like.
Maurice had told Jenny, just before he left, that she could receive a
customer at any time. Nevertheless, she was somewhat startled at Fred's
entrance. She could hear her friends saying in their cheeriest voices, 'Oh
boy, Jenny, time for work,' then laughing uproariously. Judging from his
reaction, Fred may have thought he heard some adolescent voices when he
walked in. He took one look at Jenny and muttered, 'Damn, aren't you a
young one. Good looking, though.' He pulled off his pants and his shorts,
fetched the chair from outside, and sat down. Jenny knew what she should
do, but she hesitated for just a moment. Fred, who knew how slaves were
expected to behave, didn't mince words. "Get to work, slave, or I'll call
the escort." Jenny was sure that calling the escort would lead to something
bad, so she hopped over to Fred and got his dick in her mouth.
"That's not how you're supposed to start," said Fred. "Do it right."
Oh, shit, do it right, yeah, sure, said Jenny to herself, and again she
hesitated.
"You're supposed to say, 'Yes, sir,' and then do what your told," said
her customer in a rather petulant voice.
Jenny spread hers knees a bit to lower her body, then lowered her mouth
to the appropriate level, said 'Yes, sir,' and halfheartedly began licking.
Now Fred, DiMarco's loyal customer, could tell us a few things about
BB's and sex. He probably wouldn't tell us, though, what he liked most
about BB's, aside from their price. They were not highly efficient
professionals. They would hover a moment before descending, touch
tentatively before enveloping. It was sexual teasing, and Fred loved it.
It wasn't the sort of contrived teasing that you would get from an
experienced slave. It was genuine reluctance that was overcome, Fred liked
to think, by his masculine charm. Of course, Fred also like the fact that
the slave ultimately did exactly what he asked. But the foreplay, if it
could be called that, was to Fred very erotic, and Jenny was at that moment
fulfilling Fred's fondest desire.
Jenny, on the other hand, had parted company with sexual desire the
very moment she began fulfilling Fred's. Had anyone asked, she would have
said that Fred did nothing for her and never would do anything for her.
Fred, however, saved the day for both of them by casually mentioning that
each escort carried a heavy strap and was quite willing to use it. Jenny
reacted as though she had just been struck with a strap, which was perhaps
more of a reaction than Fred had wanted. All went well from that point, at
least as far as Fred was concerned. When he told Jenny to blow him, she
fairly breezed through it. Unlike her master, Fred was a normally endowed
man. Jenny found she could do for Fred what she could not do for her
master. Twenty-five minutes after entering Jenny's quarters, Fred was a
happy man, though perhaps not so happy that he felt he should mention it to
Jenny. Fred didn't compliment slaves very often. Compliment or not, Jenny
had survived her first customer.
Her second arrived two hours after Fred left. He was a much younger
man, and though Jenny was no more attracted to him than to Fred she found
that this second time she was able to perform tolerably well. She took this
younger man's balls in her mouth as though she wanted to, or so her customer
thought. When Jenny got his cock in her mouth, she stroked him with a will,
or at least a will to finish. He had a fabulous orgasm, from his point of
view, and he did compliment Jenny. Like Fred, he had spent twenty-five
minutes with DiMarco's newest slave.
No sooner had Jenny's second customer left than an escort led Janet
into Jenny's quarters. The escort left as quickly as he had come, leaving
the two slaves alone. Jenny had not expected to see Janet prior to going to
lunch, and she was terribly embarrassed when she saw Janet. Janet noticed
immediately. She sat down in front of Jenny and said in a low voice, "I
hope your day has been better than mine. There were two really disgusting
guys in my room for over an hour, and they made me switch between them every
two minutes. It was blow one, screw the other, screw the first, blow the
second until I thought I was going to scream. Jesus, if I could do it over,
I sure wouldn't be here."
As Janet spoke, Jenny got her first chance to really look at Janet.
Janet was beautiful. She had a nearly perfect body. Jenny had once
overheard a boy say that a girl he knew looked better with her clothes off
than with her clothes on, and Jenny was sure that Janet was that type of
girl. But Janet didn't look like a girl at all. She had a mature look
about her, a look that said she was grown up and living in the real world.
Indeed, if a man had to describe the two, Jenny and Janet, he would probably
say one was a pretty little girl with light brown hair and the other was a
stunningly beautiful blond with a centerfold's body.
Janet's story about her last two customers was related so calmly and
quietly that Jenny felt Janet's passionless description didn't match the
unpleasantness of the situation. Reading Janet's words would have conveyed
more emotion than Janet's delivery of those words. After telling Jenny
about the two disgusting customers, Janet lowered her voice a bit. "Are you
OK, Jenny?"
Jenny nodded, but said nothing. She still hadn't quite recovered from
Janet's sudden entrance.
"I'm sorry for coming in like this," said Janet, as though she could
read Jenny's mind. In fact, of course, Janet had no choice in the matter.
"I remember my first few days here I wanted to crawl under a rock and not
see anyone, especially women."
Jenny nodded again and this time managed to say 'yeah' in agreement.
"Jenny, I have to tell you something even though I know you're going to
hate me forever." Jenny gave Janet a perplexed look. "We're going to lunch
in a few minutes," continued Janet, "and you should wash your face before
you go."
Jenny went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. There was a
conspicuous amount of cum on her chin. She wanted to die. She washed her
face, but didn't want to come out of the bathroom and face Janet again.
When Jenny didn't rejoin her guest, Janet walked to the opening in the wall
that led to the bathroom. Without looking up, she said, "I'm really sorry
Jenny. I should have found a better way to say that. I've only been here
two weeks and already I've gotten a little callous."
Jenny knew Janet wasn't to blame for anything, and she finally spoke.
"You didn't do anything wrong," she said quietly. "You had to tell me
somehow. But,. . . , its, . . . , well, you know, I've never been caught
with, . . . , with a guy's cum on my face before."
"Yeah," said Janet, "it's not the make-up I would choose."
This line wasn't quite funny enough to make Jenny laugh, but it broke
the ice between the two slaves.
"When did you say you got here?" asked Jenny.
"Two weeks ago," said Janet. "Like an idiot I let a girl from my
school, a girl who's been kind of a rival of mine, taunt me into gambling my
freedom. By now, she's probably told every boy in town that I lost, too.
Thankfully, most of the guys from my high school are away for the summer,
and even if a guy comes here he won't necessarily get me. But three of my
customers have been boys from my school." Janet explained how customers
were assigned to BB's, and what a BB was.
"Oh, christ," said Jenny, "I suppose I'll be getting some visits
myself." Eric Shubner, a boy she couldn't stand, was probably looking for
her that very moment.
"That's been the hardest part for me so far," said Janet. Jenny didn't
want to say so, but it seemed to her that Janet would surely get multiple
visits from every boy who had ever laid eyes on her. "But," continued
Janet, "I've got to take it as best I can. I'll be out of here some day.
It just can't be soon enough."
"How long do you have to stay, I mean be here?" asked Jenny.
"Four and half years," said Janet quietly. Four and one half years?
Janet's multiples must have been astronomical, thought Jenny. How could she
possibly be upbeat with that in front of her? "What about you?" asked
Janet. "I hope you have less time to do than I do."
"Three and a half years," answered Jenny, "and I haven't even finished
one day yet."
"Hey, you'll be out of here before I will," said Janet. Jenny thought
Janet's upbeat attitude was ridiculous.
Just then the escort walked in and Janet and Jenny both dropped to the
floor.
"Damn," said the escort, eyeing the two slaves, "I'm not sure I'll ever
get used to having this much good looking pussy around. You two put on your
leashes. Time for lunch." Once Jenny and Janet were leashed and following
the escort to the restaurant, they looked at each other and made a face.
Jenny ate a hearty lunch. She felt quite comfortable with Janet
sitting next to her, but she avoided talking to the other slaves, just as
she had at breakfast. After lunch, the escort led Jenny and Janet back to
their own quarters. Jenny had no sooner returned from lunch, when she had a
customer. The third was quickly followed by a fourth and a fifth, and Jenny
had finished her requisite five customers less than two hours after wolfing
down a piece of lemon meringue pie at lunch. Her last three customers
thought she was quite good.
Now one day and five strange men can't turn a girl into a slave.
Indeed, if a strong-willed girl does not wish to become a slave, she can
make things difficult for her owners even though she may make it very
unpleasant for herself. Sometimes, though, people can use compulsion as an
excuse to try something they might not otherwise attempt, or to explore some
secret, but frightening, desire. A child, for example, will tell his
parents that he had to go someplace forbidden because all his friends went
there. This is called the I-had-to-go excuse. Jenny had never for a moment
secretly wanted to become a slave, and she was not happy now that she was
one. That did not mean, though, that she could not be persuaded to behave
as her master wished. Her master had it in mind to appeal to the natural
tendency of a teenager to try something new, perhaps even to misbehave. As
Maurice intended to put it to Jenny, in so many words, 'You can be as wicked
as you want to be, if you consider sex to be wicked. No one will ever blame
you for it.'
To tempt Jenny with this rationalization, Maurice knew that he would
have to proceed cautiously. He would have to gently lead Jenny to the
desired conclusion. The key was to get her thinking about being bad, just
as he had got her thinking about punishment that morning. When he walked
in, Jenny was lying on her bed on the floor, but she was awake. She had
nothing to do and could go nowhere, so part of her was happy to see her
master. As soon as she had assumed her sitting position, however, she
realized that she would have to improve on her morning performance, but
there was only one improvement he would ask for and that improvement she
thought impossible. He took his clothes off and sat in front of her. She
began where she knew she must, licking then taking his balls in her mouth
and working her tongue around and under them. She still didn't like it at
all, and she was sure it would be a long time before she got used to it.
Maurice, though, could tell that she had changed since that morning,
being on the sensitive end of things as he was. He let her go on for
fifteen minutes before signaling that he wanted her to blow him. Instead of
letting her proceed, though, he gently pulled her off and said, "You were
good today, weren't you?" His question was purposely vague.
"I, I don't understand the question, master," said Jenny slowly.
"To your customers, I mean," he said softly. "I can tell you were good
to your customers."
Jenny felt a bit sheepish. It was a compliment-wasn't it?-but she
didn't know whether she wanted such a compliment. Maurice had put Jenny in
a bind with his question, and he now tried to make the bindings feel good.
"Weren't you good today? Didn't one of your customers say you were
good?" and his voice was very soothing.
"Yes, master," said Jenny, embarrassed to admit it.
"Like I said, I can tell," he replied. He now changed the subject.
"Tell me," he went on in the same voice, "did one of your girlfriends ever
do something that you thought was really outrageous?"
Maurice wanted to ask this question about Jenny, but he knew she wasn't
ready to talk about herself. She might be willing to attribute her own
doings to someone else, though. If not, he would at least find out what
Jenny considered outrageous. Jenny didn't read anything into Maurice's
question, though she was startled by it. It seemed to come from nowhere.
"Alicia was the wild one in our group," said Jenny. "She once took a pee
off a balcony. She was on her back and she was trying to point it up so she
would pee over the edge of the balcony like a man. She was kinda drunk."
Jenny stopped for a moment. "When you end a story or a statement,"
said Maurice, "you should say, 'That's all, master.' Then I'll know you're
done. What else did Alicia do?"
"Once four of us were in a car driving on the freeway," said Jenny,
"and Alicia was in the passenger seat. We got behind a big truck that was
loaded with Army guys. A couple of them were motioning with their hands
like you would if you were pulling up your shirt. Alicia laughed and said
they wanted her to pull up her blouse. So she did. They all clapped then
they all made motions like pulling up a dress. Alicia really laughed this
time, they laughed back, and Alicia pulled up her skirt. That was it,
though. They wanted her to take off her panties, but that's when we took an
exit off the road. That's all, master."
"So Alicia was just a tease?" asked Maurice. "She didn't want to get any
closer to the soldiers than she did?"
"No, master, I don't think so. She could talk about sex pretty openly, but
there was nothing unusual about that. She had a couple of boyfriends, but
she never talked about having sex with them. That's all, master."
"Didn't Alicia ever fool around behind a boyfriend's back?"
"If she did, I never heard about it, master." This question made Jenny
squirm a little. One weekend, just three months ago, she met a cute boy at
a party. Her boyfriend was not around. Jenny and the cute boy went for a
short walk and didn't get back for two hours. The sex had been fabulous.
That was the only time she had ever done anything like that, though. It was
exactly that sort of story that Maurice was hoping to hear from Jenny, but
he didn't get it. When he sensed that Jenny wasn't going to talk anymore,
he told her try again, like that morning, to get as much of his dick in her
mouth as she could. "Don't worry," he said, "you're not going to get hurt."
Maurice had purposely addressed the subject of hurting because he knew
Jenny was afraid of punishment, and he wanted to keep that possibility in
the forefront of her thoughts. Jenny was sufficiently sensitive to the
subject of pain that she did not miss much of his meaning. As she took her
master's dick in her mouth again, got him hard, and tried to stoke him as
deeply as she could, Maurice delivered himself of a short monologue in which
he conjectured about Alicia's behavior were she to become a slave.
"I'll bet that Alicia would hold back at little at first," said Maurice.
"But then, once she had settled down a bit, she would probably start
enjoying herself a little, against her will of course. She might get a
little excited by one of her customers, even though she didn't want it to
happen. She would probably go back and forth between enjoying it and
telling herself that she shouldn't."
Maurice didn't want to go further than that. Jenny thought his suggestion
was as absurd as it was obvious. I am definitely not going to enjoy being a
slave, she said to herself. She did wonder, though, whether Alicia could
possibly enjoy it. She couldn't definitely decide, though it seemed very
unlikely to her.
Thus Maurice worked on Jenny's mind as Jenny worked on Maurice's dick. She
was stroking a little deeper than she had been that morning, and to his
surprise Maurice was truly getting aroused. It usually took a more skilled
and experienced slave than Jenny to get him going. Maurice's overexposure to
slaves, and sex with slaves, had made sex, at times, rather boring for him.
He certainly wasn't burnt out, but during the last year he had not always
felt that tremendous rush of excitement he got whenever a slave submitted to
him and obeyed. He thought it was because some training situations were
simply more erotic than others. The entertainments that Jenny would soon
learn to perform would make this blow job seem very tame. Maybe, Maurice
thought, it was Jenny's future under his command that was causing his
arousal. Whatever was causing it, he was loving it. Jenny, he said to
himself, I will make of you the best slave I have ever made. He groaned a
bit as he felt himself approaching an orgasm. He wanted Jenny to hold him
on the edge before finishing. "Can you feel me getting close to an orgasm?"
he asked her.
With his dick still in her mouth, Jenny nodded her head.
"When you feel that, stop stroking for a few seconds. Run your tongue
around the head of my dick a few times, then resume stroking."
Jenny managed to do this, remarkably, five times. When Maurice's orgasm
finally hit, it was one of the most intense he had had in several months.
"Keep going," he said as Jenny tried vainly to swallow everything Maurice
shot in her mouth, "just more gently." He stroked her hair a few times.
"Don't stop until you're told too." Maurice had not planned to extend
Jenny's training beyond oral sex for at lest two or three days, but now he
was so excited by his new slave that he decided then and there to accelerate
her schedule.
"Ok, you can stop now. Turn around and bend over so that your head is on
the floor." Jenny was no more anxious to have her master screw her than she
was to blow him. She wasn't aroused, but her master's reaction to her
efforts had not gone unnoticed. She didn't feel happy about her master's
response, but at least she knew he wasn't angry.
Also, Jenny noticed, he master hadn't said much about learning during
this session. All of that talk about ignoring his orgasm had gone away.
She had just enough experience with males to know that when it came to sex,
the male orgasm was the one thing a girl couldn't ignore. So as she offered
herself to her master for the first time, she wasn't in an entirely negative
frame of mind. Maurice positioned himself behind Jenny, fingered her,
found that she was barely moist, and began pressing against her. She was
very tight, and Maurice instructed her to guide him with her hand. Jenny
had never been screwed from behind before and she thought this order was a
bit much. I have to screw myself, she thought. She got Maurice to the
right place and backed onto him. He felt huge, even bigger than he had felt
in her mouth. This, she thought, is going to turn into agony very soon.
Maurice, fortunately, was not so wild with desire for his new slave that he
immediately buried himself inside her. He got about halfway in, causing his
slave to yelp a bit, and then told her to squeeze him. Squeeze him? said
Jenny to herself. I'm too stretched out to do anything but suffer. "Come
on," Maurice said gently, "I know you can squeeze me a little." He ran his
hands over Jenny's hips, up her sides until he brushed against her breasts,
then back down again. It was the only thing he had done to Jenny that was
at all sensuous, and she involuntarily moved on his dick. It wasn't a
squeeze, but it was the closest thing she had to a squeeze at that moment.
"Come on," said Maurice, "try again," and he continued to slowly run his
hands up and down Jenny's sides. She tried, tried very hard, but didn't get
very far. To her surprise, Maurice said, "All right, that felt good. Do it
again." Maurice in fact had felt very little, but he was loving being
inside Jenny. Yes, Jenny, he said to himself again, I'm going to make you a
spectacular slave.
He began stroking her slowly, telling her to squeeze when he was moving
away from her. She tried again, and again thought she had done little.
Maurice told her that it felt wonderful and continued to slowly stroke her.
It did feel wonderful, but Maurice could tell that Jenny was hanging on for
dear life. She wasn't quite ready for real sex with her master, and Maurice
reluctantly decided he should stop. When he did, Jenny nearly collapsed on
the floor in a heap.
"Sit," he told her as he stood up, and she slowly complied. "We will
continue your training tomorrow," he said as he put on his clothes. "In the
meantime, I want you to formulate an answer to the following question: What
do you think Alicia would be like if she became a slave?"
Just what I was hoping you'd ask me, said Jenny to herself. "Yes, master,"
she said.
"If you like, I'll ask the escort to bring the blond slave here before you
go to dinner."
"That would be nice, master," Jenny said a bit wearily.
He turned and walked out. Jenny laid down on her blankets and tallied the
day's results. Six different men had an orgasm in my mouth today, she said
to herself. A man who has a dick that's bigger than Godzilla's screwed me
for a while. Boy have I had a wonderful day, and her enforced idleness gave
her time to think about just how wonderful it had been. Perhaps a bit more
clearly than the day before she realized she was a slave, but beyond being
unhappy about that she wasn't quite sure how to react to it. She thought
that if every day were like today, she would survive. The time she was left
to herself, though, was very boring. It wasn't in her nature to lie around
for hours doing nothing. If every day is like this, she thought, lying
around waiting for a man to show up, having sex with him, then lying about
some more, I'll probably go crazy. Surely there is more that I will have to
do, but I definitely do not want to know about it now. Let me just get used
to this, first, and then she instinctively recoiled at the idea. I don't
want to get used to being a slave, the conversation with herself continued,
I want to get out of here. But how, she wondered, how is it possible to be
here three years without getting used to being a slave?
That question was scary enough to make Jenny change the subject of her
ruminations. She tried to consider how Alicia might behave as a slave. She
couldn't get very far, though, because she really didn't know Alicia very
well. They had never been close friends, and they certainly had never
discussed sex slavery. Jenny couldn't help but think that it would be very
nice if she and Alicia could trade places, but beyond that she couldn't
think of anything. Surely, she thought, Alicia wouldn't like being a slave.
She, Jenny, didn't like being a slave, Janet didn't like being a slave,
and the older woman Jenny had met yesterday didn't like being a slave. How
would it be possible to like it? You're whole life is having sex with
anyone and everyone who wants you, an endless succession of men using you to
get off. Even if you were good at it, how could you like it?
As she was turning these thoughts over in her mind, she heard footsteps
outside her room. An escort walked in, but Janet was not behind him. Jenny
assumed her sitting position as the escort began taking off his clothes. "I
had that blond slave this morning, but I've still got enough left for you,"
he said. "It's more than an hour before dinner anyway. That's too long to
let two slaves yak at each other." He grabbed the chair from outside.
Jenny went back to work.
________________________________________________________________________
Get Your Private, Free E-mail from MSN Hotmail at http://www.hotmail.com
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> |
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository |
|<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations. |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+