Dependent

Chapter 1

Codes: Exhibition, teen, voyeurism, D/s, Humiliation, Light, f-self, nc

I'm sitting inside the covered bus stop near my mother's house. I don't know if the service runs this late at night. It doesn't matter anyway. I don't have a bus pass, or enough money for a ticket. What little change I had was spent on the nearby pubic telephone looking for a place to crash tonight. For now the bus stop keeps me out of the pounding rain and spares me the worst of the biting wind. The wind that does find me dances along my soaked clothes and chills me to the bone.

I must look a comical sight, shivering in my soaked white and pink cotton pyjamas. The sodden material traced the curves of my petite frame. Looking down at how my rock hard nipples press out against the wet material I groan. Lonely white girl sitting in wet pyjamas under the only light for twenty metres. I may as well have a fucking rape me sign around my neck. I curse, not because of the situation, but because of my reaction to it;  It is exactly what me mother would think. To her, scared means protected, and for years she has worked tirelessly to keep me 'safe'. Mission accomplished mom, I am scared of everything; all the time.

I'm waiting for one of my friends to come and rescue me, but there is nothing new in that for me.  I have always been a dependant person.  My mother always provided me a room, clothes, food, phone, internet and tuition. Either she or one of my friends would chauffeur me around when I needed it. All I ever did was whatever she told me, and only then just enough to get by.

I called Ryan about half an hour ago now. His was the only number I could remember without my cell phone. He wasn’t happy about being woken up, and he made sure to remind me that most people have jobs. I apologized, and grovelled, but in the end he wasn’t able to come get me. His family was in town and his place was full already. He said he would call around and get someone else to come grab me. I could only sit and hope he found someone.

All my friends were guys, ever since high school. I just could never handle the bitchy frenemy mindset most girls seemed locked into. The problem is most of my friends are either in serious relationships, in which case their girlfriend / fiancé invariably hates me, or they live with their parents. Not that I am judging, having just been kicked out of my parents house, but these guys were all desperate singles, and I wouldn’t want to be in a position where I would feel too indebted to them  Most of the guys tried to get into my pants at one time or another. I always managed to turn everyone down gently, but giving it up to one of them would now feel like going back on my word and taking sides.

It’s been years since I had a boyfriend. Mom made sure to put a stop to it before I reached the age when things could get serious. For her, that meant twelve. I guess that means it has been five years since I have even kissed a boy. Still, I always found ways of keeping myself entertained. On a normal night I would be in my room right now, looking up pornography and punishing myself for enjoying it so much. Maybe I have conditioned myself as to the time. All I know for sure is I am horny as hell.

I slide a hand into my pyjama bottoms. I slide it down, ignoring my clit, and sink a digit into my juicy virginal hole. I’ve always masturbated a lot. I think maybe more than most women, but who knows. In all that time I’ve never had more than a finger up there. Mom was always fairly insistent on what happens if you start sticking things in your ears, nose and other special places. Diseases, tearing… it didn’t sound good.

I stroke the inner roof of my cunt while pressing the hand down hard against my clitoris. I can’t begin to count the number of hours I have wasted doing this. I guess they’re not wasted if you’re having fun. Nah, they’re wasted.

I have moved onto tweaking my nipples when suddenly a light flashes across my closed eyes. I open them and catch a glimpse of a car speeding past. The moment I hear the car brake, I begin straightening my wet clothes. By time the car backs up, I am sitting patiently with my clenched hands in my lap.

Oh no. It’s Lisa and Michael. Of the nerds I hung with in high school, these two were the worst. They had both been overweight in school, and even among the rest of us social outcasts they had been relegated to the bottom rung. They were nerdy even for us nerds. Despite us treating them badly at times, they had always been part of the gang. Towards the end of school, they had become an item. Other people laughed and joked ‘who else would have them’, but I stopped when I noticed they really seemed to suit each other. They were the first of my friends to get engaged, and in my opinion, they are by far the happiest. Lucky bastards.

“Hey Kylie.” Michael asked from the passenger side window. “What’s up?” He was probably 6’5” these days, maybe higher if he was in his usual army boots. When the height finally came his childish weight was finally distributed well. Now he was still heavy, but his stature made him look large rather than portly. He was folded up in the little red sports car just enough for it to be funny.

“My mum kicked me out and I need a place to crash. Can you help me out?”

Michael turned to talk to Lisa. I knew it would be up to her. He worshiped her and she wore the pants in their relationship. Problem is I could think of a dozen reasons why she should drive off and leave my bitch ass here to get raped.

As the two girls in our high school circle, we should have been logical friends, but unfortunately I was aloof and failed her in regards to fellowship. I always felt bad at how she was treated, but I rarely did anything about it. I was happy to be the group's princess.

“Why did your mum kick you out?” Lisa asked as she leant forward, her short black hair framing her pale freckled face. My mum was a decent enough person, even if she did fall deep into the overly protective category. Her kicking me out was on no ones radar.

“I’m cold Lisa, can we leave the stories till later?”

Silence. She just sat there, staring at me as I shivered in the drizzle.

“She found my porn, ok?” I want to lie, but I couldn’t think of a single reason she would actually kick me out for, so I have to stick with the truth, even if it is hard to swallow.

“That’s it?” Michael asked.

“Yeah well, you remember when she tore all those pages out of the dungeons and dragons book you lent me?”

“You still owe me money for that.”

“Anyway! I just mean, you know how she is with pornography.”

I stand on the hard gravel, covering myself, waiting as Lisa makes up her mind.

“Help me Lisa, you’re my only hope.” I hoped she would appreciate the star war’s reference.

She smiled, thank god. “It’s my house, so you are going to have to obey my rules. I’m serious! If you don’t follow the rules I will kick you out.”

“Yes, thank you Lisa. It’s just until I can get a job of my own and find a place.”

She laughed in my face. “A job? With what, your year of community college classes in maths and physics? Face it Kylie, you have never had a job in your life. You have no skills, you think your better than everyone and on top of that you are a lazy piece of shit.”

I would have protested if I didn’t need her help. It also didn’t help that she was 100% right.

“I will give you a place to sleep, food to eat, and I will help you find a job. I guess I better buy you some clothes too.”

‘Thank you Lisa, this is very big of you.” Hmm I hope she doesn’t take that the wrong way. Since her acne cleared up she had a pretty enough face. She wasn’t exactly fat anymore, but she was still rather chubby, and it was a sore subject.

She glowered at me. Fuck.

“Take off your clothes.” She ordered in measured tones.

“What?”

“Take off your fucking clothes now bitch or I am leaving!”

I rolled the soaked pyjama shirt off over my head, causing my wet red hair to spill over my face. The long hair hid my shame as I quickly pulled my pants down and stepped out of them. I figured it was like an old bandaid, better to pull it off in one hit. I stood, freezing now, with a hand thrown across my erect nipples, and another shielding my tight bald pussy.

“Much better. Now throw your hair back. Good. Now put your hands on your head, no on the back of your head. Yes like that. Spread your legs more.”

I was normally extremely pale, but in this rain my skin looked like glowing white paper. The pink of my nipples, pussy and the burning humiliation evident in my cheeks gave me some colour. When Lisa pulled out a cell phone and began filming me, I just wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Exhibition fantasies turn me on, but my limit was sometimes neglecting to wear panties while out in a skirt. This was well beyond my ability to cope with.

“My my, you are a beautiful English rose.” Lisa licked her lips. Michael was making a strange face, and then I noticed she was playing with his dick through his long camo fatigues.

My mother is Irish you stupid bitch. I wanted to say it, but I didn’t. I just stood there while they stared at my perfectly formed generous C cup’s with their long hard pink nubs.

“I love that cute little pussy of yours. Why bother shaving it when no one sees it? Answer me!”

“I see it, and I just like it like this. Please Lisa, someone will see me.” I complained.

“Spread those lips for me just a little.”

I sighed and opened my mouth.

“Not those lips you stupid bitch, your cunt lips!”

I gently opened the fleshy sides of my flower, and cried a little as Lisa and Michael both starred at it greedily.

“Now I want you to…” Lisa’s words were cut short as a light turned into view at the end of the dark road. “Quick hop in.” She said.

I hear a thunk, and saw the trunk pop open. Of course! The car only had two seats. I could hardly sit on the pedals, nor squeeze between Michael’s legs. Michael still held my pyjama’s, so naked as the day I was born I minced across the sharp gravel and climbed into the musty boot. I struggled to close the boot. I had a fear of enclosed spaces (among other things), though I was ok if I could just crawl up in a ball and wait. Fortunately that was all I could do. When the boot closed I heard the lock engage automatically.  I was submerged in darkness. I concentrated on slowing my heart and measuring my breathing.  How did it come to this?  Just an hour ago I was lounging on my mother’s cough eating a bowl of chocolate ice cream, and now I am naked and freezing, locked in the boot of someone who doesn’t like me very much.

I knew it was more than half an hour’s drive to Lisa’s house.  At first I tried to puzzle out all the varied objects trapped with me, but I soon got bored.  With nothing else to do, I returned to my favourite pastime and began finishing what I had started in the bus stop. Up until now, my life had been utterly predictable and thoroughly dull. The lightest tough of my sex sent shivers all through me. It was not long before I was moaning and dripping joy onto the hard floor of the trunk.  It was weak of me, but I was so scared.  Soon my dampness became a different sort, as the cars heater warmed the small compartment. Once was not enough, and before the vehicle stopped I was sweating, and biting down hard on my lower lip as I came again.

Chapter 2

Codes: Light, M+/f, F/f, Exhibition, Teen, D/s, High School, Humiliation, Reluctant

When the car finally stops and the boot opens, I cannot wait to get out.  The smell of petrol had long since covered the smell of leather and my own stink.   When my eyes adjust to the light, I see a confused man in a curious red hat staring at me across an open space and through a large glass window.  I look around and realize I am standing naked in the middle of a petrol station.  I leap back into the boot and slam it shut.  I hear my friends laugh heartily as they walk off.

It seems like I am waiting in darkness forever.  When the car finally does move, It travels only a few metres before stopping again.  The boot opens again and I am starring up into three faces.   I die a little inside.  Michael, Lisa and, according to his nametag, Bob are all studying my nervously squirming body.

Unable to keep the tears from my eyes, I ask “What's going on?”

“She doesn't sound very willing...”  Bob looks uneasy.

Willing for what?  I wonder in horror.

“She just didn't expect to see you.”  Lisa carefully explains.  “But I assure you she is here by her own free will, aren't you Kylie?”

Later I would be pissed she used my real name.  “What?”

“Kylie, explain to... Bob here, that you are here of your own free will before he calls the police.”

“Yes.”  I blurt out instantly.  “I am here by my own free will.”  I parrot back Lisa's words.

“I told you, she is our house slave.”  Lisa remarks proudly, as she strokes a hand along my smooth slick thigh.

“I didn't know people really did stuff like that.”

“Oh yes, she loves it.  Kylie, masturbate for Bob to show him how much you love this”

“I think Bob can take my fucking word on it!”

*Slap*

The blow stung my face and I fall to the floor of the trunk.  Unenthusiastically, I began to stroke the skin around my pussy. 

“If you don't start frigging that sweet little cunt right now, you better hope Bob will let you stay at his house.”

Looking up into the clerks eyes like a frightened child, I could see he would be happy with that arrangement.  Not wanting to blow this, I sunk a finger into my hole and began twiddling my clit.  I thought I would just fake it, but I was approaching an orgasm already.  The six eyes burning into my soft white skin gets me so hot.  Michael lifts my ass up out of the boot, and spins my head around so I am pointing directly out.  He folds my legs back towards my head, more than was comfortable. 

With great big fat tears rolling down the sides of my face, I continued fucking myself for the enjoyment of the clerk.  The dark car park is silent but for my wet squelching.  He gets a front row view of my moaning, whimpering orgasm. 

“Wow.”  He said, breathing heavy.  “Can I fuck her?”  He asked hopefully.

!!!!!!

“No, I'm sorry, STD's and all that.”  Lisa explained.

Bob suddenly had an epiphany.  “What if she just sucks my dick?”  Not that it was much of an epiphany.

“That can still transmit diseases, and you wouldn't believe where this filthy slut has been.”

Poor Bob.  He looks really disappointed.

“But...”  Lisa began.  “For twenty dollars she will jack you off onto her face.”

My heart sank.  If there was an Olympic event for pulling out a twenty dollar bill and your dick simultaneously, Bob could have placed for his country; maybe even won a medal.

Michael broke his usual silence to whisper in his lover’s ear.  She looked at him smiling wide, scandalized and excited by his suggestion.

Michael took hold of me and Bob quickly joined in.  They hauled me from the boot like 100 pounds of dead weight.  The car had been parked in the empty darkened parking lot behind the petrol station.  The two men easily lifted me across over to the nearby wall and dropped me onto the hard dark gravel.  My arm struck the nearby green dumpster and it let out a hollow gong.

I tried to squat but Lisa ordered me onto my knees.

“I want to see bruises on that lily skin of yours.”

Michael kicked my knees apart as Bob began beating his engorged meat in my face.  It was dark, and his hand was moving so fast.  I didn't get to see much more than his fist and a swollen purple tip.

I couldn't believe what was happening.  I was sitting on my mother's couch watching tv not two hours ago, and now I was kneeling naked beside a dumpster, waiting to give my first ever hand job to a complete stranger... for twenty dollars.  I was hypnotised by the movement of Bob's hand as it worked his shaft hard.  For a moment I forgot where I was, and what was about to happen.

“No Bob.”  Lisa said, taking his money.  “You’re paying her to do that.”  Lisa took hold of the clerk’s arms and pinned them behind his back.  He was, at first alarmed, but the sight of me kneeling in front of his bouncing manhood soon commanded his attention.

“Go on Kylie, you've done this a hundred times.”  Lisa smiled a predatory smile at me from behind Bob's back.  “Take hold of it like a microphone.”

I just sat there.  She couldn't make me do it without frightening Bob.

“Kylie, do you want to earn the twenty dollars?”

Humiliated, I pouted.

Lisa shrugged and turned away.   She held her ankle length purple skirt with one hand as she walked off towards the car.  She was going to leave me here!

“I'm doing it!”  I said, overly loud as I began took a firm hold of Bob's cock and began stroking it.  “Please look, I am doing it.”

She stoped and spun.  Her black boots made a grating sound as they crushed the small stones beneath her.  The same small black chunks were already digging painfully into my knees. 

“Oh yeah....”  Bob luxuriated.  “Wow, I mean, she has such a pretty face.”  He lifted my chin delicately, though I was unable to look him in the eye.

“Yes.”  Lisa agreed proudly.  “But I think it will look even better with your cum all over it, don’t you?”

“Uuhhh.  Fuck yeah.”

“Do you mind?”  Michael asked Bob politely.  He stood a pace to the side, giving his own penis a shake.

“Hey whatever man.  I – am – good!” 

Michael lifts my left hand and drops his cock in it.  My hand actually falls with the impact.  I don't know if Bob's dick was small, but Michael's dwarfed it.  His cock has to be at least nine inches long, and almost two inches across.  I slid my hand up and down the erect shaft.  Michael makes sure I am looking upwards, even if my eyes are cast askance. 

Bob begins to grunt.  Sensing the end was near, he takes a solid fistful of my long red hair and holds on tight.  He shoots long white ropes of cum across my face, the first landing just under my right eye.  Michael takes hold of his own cock and intensified his masturbation so that he can explode onto my face at roughly the same time. 

I had cum in my hair, my eyes, and all across my face.  When I went to wipe it away Lisa shouted at me.  She ordered me to place my hands behind my head and I quickly obeyed.  I had always been good at following orders.

“So how was it Bob?”  Lisa purred.

“Phew.  Wow.  This is one hot slut.  Hey, do you think Dick could have a go?”

“Eh?”  Lisa didn't follow.

“Richard, the other clerk.”

“Oh sure.”  Lisa gesticulated.  “If he has twenty dollars send him out here.”

Bob ran off. 

“So Kylie.”  Lisa waved the twenty dollar note in one hand and held her cell phone up in the other.  “How does it feel to be a whore?”

She must have taped the whole thing.  I broke down and went to cry in my hands, forgetting the sheen on semen covering my face.  Before I could wipe any away, Michael slapped my hands away, and I automatically returned to the submissive pose. 

“Do you remember when, in high school, I confided in you that I fancied girls?”  Lisa asked.

I nodded mutely.

“And you told everyone and said it was because no man would ever want to fuck me.”

“I'm so sorry Lisa.” I cried, the tears mingling with the fresh cum.  “You don't need to do this.”

“I've wanted to do this for a long time.” She lifted her long flowing skirt and revealed a chubby, stubble covered muff. 

I tried to turn away but she held my head as she pressed her warm vagina against my mouth and chin.

“Lick my cunt whore.  Lick my fat girl loving cunt.”

My efforts were pitiful, but the sight of me timidly lapping at her sex lips excited Lisa greatly.  I didn't know, but it had been a fantasy of hers for many years.  She wiggled her hips and rode my extended tongue, only pulling back when she hears the sound of new customers.

“If Bob is jerking Dick around, Dick is going to be pissed.”  Dick stated firmly. 

“Holy fucking shit.”  Another voice rang out.  “That's Kylie O'Brien.” 

“No fucking way.”  A third new voice.

I looked over and saw a red uniformed clerk, and two familiar faces.  I didn't recognise the boys names, but they were brothers and had gone to the same high school I had.  They must have been in grade eleven or twelve by now.

“Wow.  Bob was for real.  Dick could kiss Bob.”

“So twenty bucks yeah?”  One of the brothers asked, already fishing for his wallet.

Michael stepped forward to collect my fee.  The sight of boys younger than me counting out the last of their twenty dollars in fifty and twenty cent pieces made me sob noisily. 

“She doesn't look very eager.”  One of the brother's commented.

“Dick doesn't care.”

“Don't worry, she is very eager to accept your cum.  Why else would she still be kneeling there?”

I was still kneeling, naked, in the shadow of this dumpster.  The three cocks all pointed at my face.  I held up my hands, without being threatened, but I wasn't sure how I should do this.

“Just take turns wanking them, like you did with those sailors.”  Lisa offered.

“Oh my god, Kylie is like a total slut.”  “Yeah”

“So you know this chick?”  Dick asked.

“Yeah.  She was like the smartest girl in our school.”  The guys continued to talk about me as if I wasn't there.  I did my best to jack them all off evenly, naturally forming a precise cyclical pattern.  It seemed to take longer, probably because I had to divide my time between more cocks than I could handle.  Hands stroked my skin and played with my hair on a whim.  By the time they shot their loads onto my face, I felt my knees must surely be bleeding. 

“Dick enjoyed that, but now Dick has to go back to work.” 

Seeing Lisa with a cell phone, one of the brothers asked “Hey, can I take a picture of her?”

“Sure.”  Lisa smiled. “Make sure all the kids at school see it.” I groaned.  “The teachers too if you're ballsy.” 

The boy took a photo of my cum covered body.  Making sure to catch the shine of the semen covering my face and that which had dripped onto my breasts.

“Cool, thanks.  Well we need to get back to party now, so seeya.”

“Party?”  Michael asked.

“Sure, it's Jason's brother's 21st.  Hey do you want to bring her along?”

“Let me ask.”  Lisa leant in low, and talked to me like a child.  “Kylie.  Do you want to earn some more rent money.”

“Whatever you want...”  I answered through cum covered lips, resigned to suffer this well deserved payback.

****

By the time I finally crawl out of Lisa's boot I am exhausted.  My knees hurt, my hair is sticky and I reek of cum.   I have made a total of $260 dollars.  Michael had to hose me down after the first few customers, but for those kids who had gone to our high school, my minor celebrity status beat out the stigma of paying for sex. 

I looked up at the apartment building that would be my new haven.  Lights shinning from many of the windows reminded me people lived here, lots of people.  I try my best to hide behind Michael's bulk, but Lisa pushes me to the ground and commands me to crawl around to the back of the building and to clean myself thoroughly with a hose before making my way up to their apartment.  Shivering from the cold, fear, and maybe the excitement, I crawl on the grass between neat gardens and under clothes lines around to the back off the large brick building.  By now, crawling across grass seems like such a simple request, it wasn't even worth protesting.

I am forced to crawl into one of the gardens when I hear voices approaching.  I kneel down low on all fours and wait as a trio of drunk young men to stumble past my hiding spot and enter the building.  I shudder to think of what they would do if they found me.  My mother always taught me that no one ever deserves to get raped, but stupid bitches who don't protect themselves have only themselves to blame.  I think she would put me in the stupid bitch category right now.

When I reach the rear of the building, I kneel on the freezing grass, trying to wash my hair with a garden hose.  I can't wait for this nightmare to be over.  I don't know if Lisa will let me keep the money I earned, but at least I have a place to stay tonight.

Chapter 3

Codes: Light, F/f, f-self, Exhibition, Teen, D/s, High School, Humiliation, Reluctant

I continue to rub the soapy sponge across my breasts while I wonder if I will ever truly feel clean again.  Each time I look down at my breasts, I remember them plastered with cum.  I like my breasts.  They are large enough to get me special treatment without causing me excessive problems. 

The water is hot, more so than most people would find tolerable.  The heated water turns my ivory skin an lively pink.  I breath deeply of the vapor rich air before closing my eyes and submerging my head beneath the scalding water.  The water needs to be hot, because I am bad. 

I try my best to keep busy.   Not my hands, they have tasks, but my mind.  I do my best thinking in the bath.  Not the sort of 'Eureka' moment to change the course of my life mind you, just the deep introspective soul searching that usually confirms my suspicions that I am an ungrateful bitch who will continue to squander the chances life offers me until they stop coming.  Instead I try to think about other things.  I fail.  I can't even think of something else to think about.  I don't want to think about all my mistakes, so the past is out, and the future scares the shit out of me.  As a last resort I run numbers through my head.  5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55.  I try to picture each number, and nothing else.

Lifting my head and shoulders up out of the water, I press the yellow sponge against my face.  My usual mental exercises fail me.  Try as I might, I can think of nothing but tonight.  A slide show of dicks, all pointed at me, never have I been so popular.  I jacked off fourteen cocks, most of which belonged to total strangers.  I remembered the different sizes and lengths of each, but it was the subtleties in shape that aroused my curiosity.  Each time I visualize a cock, I taste its scent and feel it blow its load all over my face.  I press the sponge harder against my face.

People actually paid money to cum on me.  Quite a bit of money really.  $260 (not counting the two freebie hand jobs Michael had) was phenomenal pay for an hours work, at least by my standards.  Guys stood in line, waiting their turn to be with me.  Even though I knew they were just waiting to cum on my face, it felt nice to be the center of attention.  I remembered one boy at the party, a blond by who was not yet fifteen, actually had to sit down afterwards, lest he fall down.  I got up the nerve to look in his eyes while I clumsily wanked his rod.  Most of the guys looked down on me like a sex object, which I will admit (only to myself) turned me on, but this boy just looked so grateful for the pleasure.  I certainly brought smiles to a dozen guys faces.

At last I have had my night.  You know, that one night you do something really stupid that people make fun of you over for years to come.  Id always been so sensible, so careful... so afraid of taking any risk.  And it could have been a lot worse.  I will have to thank Lisa for not making me suck all those cocks.  The thought of all that semen floating around inside me makes me want to gag even now.  I slip a finger in my tight clam.  Thank god I didn't get raped at the party.  Whenever someone got too rowdy, Michael settled them down.  I knew he was soft and kitten like, but so long as he just stood there and kept he mouth shut, he had an intimidating visage.

I feel like a weight is lifted from my chest, and I don't mean the layers of sticky cum.  Lisa was right, I was a real bitch to her in High School, and she sure got me good.  I had been terrified when they hauled me out of the trunk in front of a dozen drunk men.  I knelt on the grass, with my face and chest stained with drying cum, and I felt my bladder empty.  I actually peed myself right there while people were staring at me.  That was surely the most humiliated I had ever felt, but it was ok now. 

Lisa could have abandoned me, naked and penniless, numerous times, but she didn't.  She kept her promise and took me home.  After hosing myself down, she led me inside and ordered me into a bath.  Of all the orders I received tonight, that was a welcome one.  The tension in my body has gone, and I luxuriate in the still overly warm water.   Now that we were even, Lisa and I, she would do right by me. 

I had finished combing the cum knots out of my long fiery hair and had started shampooing it when the bathroom door opened.  I slid down to my neck in the soapy water when the flimsy plastic curtain was torn aside. 

“Are you still going?”  Lisa asked, resting a hand haughtily on a hip.

“Well I was pretty dirty.”  I replied meekly.  I usually didn't take any crap from Lisa, but I found it tough to be tough when I was nude.

“I'll say you were.  Whoring really came natural to you.” 

“Lisa, I know I deserved that, and I am grateful for you coming to get me in the middle of the night, and for letting me live here.  I guess, what I want to say is, I don't hold a grudge.  You got me good, and I figure we are even.  I'd like for us to start over and try to be friends.”

“Really?”  Was all she replied.  Lisa pulled open the elastic waistband of her long skirt and stepped out of it.  She quickly dropped her large white panties and sat down on the toilet and spread her legs wide.  She pulled off her t shirt, and I was still staring at her stubbly crotch when farting and shitting noises erupted from the porcelain bowl.   I looked away in disgust.

“I thought we were going to be girlfriends?”  Lisa reminded me.  “Lets not forget, I have already seen you pee tonight.”  She sounded offended at me having taken offense.  “Not to mention this is my house.”

“I'm sorry, Lisa.”  I turned away to face the wall as I kneaded the suds through my hair. 

“Don't tell me, show me.  I want you to look at me.”

“What?”

“Look at me!”

Nervously, I spun my head around until it was almost pointed behind me.  She ran a hand down her stomach (which was nice almost flat while she sucked it in) and down to her crotch. 

“What do you think?”

“About what???”

“I'm not a gorgeous whore like you, but I have really come a long way since High School, haven't I?”  She was proud, and this was important to her.

“Yeah I guess.”

“Remember that game we played as an icebreaker with that drama teacher?  The one where we had to say something nice about the person sitting across from us.”

“No....”  I lied.

“And when it came time for you to say something about me, you said 'Jesus loves her, probably'.”

“Lisa I...”

She interrupted me.  “Lets play again, but this time you have to say nice things about me, and I get to say mean things about you.  Does that sound fair?”

“I guess.”

“Well why don't you go first.”

“Ok.  You're breasts are bigger than mine.”  I offered.

“And you're tits make you look like a whore.  You have always been so thin, how can you have such nice breasts?  Turn around I want to see them.”

“What!?!”

“Turn around so I can watch look at your tits while we play.”

“But....”

“You are looking at my tits.”  She said, lifting her DD rack.  “Look at it this way.  I would really like to watch your soapy breasts shake while you wash your hair, and you really want to do what little you can to repay me for my generosity.  Don't you?”

“Yes.”

“Well,  its not like I haven't seen your tits before.”

I turned around and knelt in the tub.  With both my hands on top of my head working the shampoo into my semen ridden hair, my breasts really did rise to the occasion.  I made fun of Lisa for her self proclaimed bisexuality, but I know I had masturbated to a picture of a beautiful woman more than one.  A lot more than once.  My extensive collection of lesbian pornography was no small part of the reason I was here.  I arched my back, intent on giving Lisa a real show.  I tried to adopt a pose that I thought was sexy, and her face lit up nicely.  I did find girls attractive, just not her.  Even if she did have nice boobs.

“Very nice.  You really are a natural slut aren't you?  Well, now it's your turn again to say something nice about me.”

“You have a boyfriend.”

“Fiancé.”  She quickly corrected me.

“Yeah, and he really loves you.”  I was earnest. 

Lisa continued to play with her breasts as we watched each other. 

“You let a bunch of guys shoot off all over your face and tits, and you liked it.”

“I did not!”  I protested for the sake of it.

“You fucking did, don't lie to me.  I would have never done something so depraved.”

My turn again.  “You have a nice house.”

“And you're a homeless bitch because your mom finally found out you're a slut.”

This was getting old.  “You ... have ... a nice car.”  It was ok, I guess.  I didn't care much for cars.

Lisa laughed.  “And you don't even own a scrap of clothing.  Though, in the long run, that may actually help you out in a job interview.”

*sigh* “You are a really nice person to take me in when I had no one else to turn to.”

“You had no one else, because none of your friends can stand being around you for long periods of time.  Even the ones who just want to fuck you have all but given up getting inside your cobweb filled cunt.”

I couldn't keep the anger from my face.  Lisa got up and walked naked across to the sink.  I guess our game, and my little show, were over at last.  I turn away and return to washing my hair.  I hear the bath water splash and turn my head.  I see Lisa, sitting on the corner of the bath with her legs spread wide.

“Do me.”

“What!?!”

Lisa held out a tube of shaving gel and a ladies razor.  “You do mine, and I will do yours after.” 

I could see what she wanted now.  Spinning around once more, I take the offered items and squirt some blue gel onto my fingers.  My hand hovered over her mound, unable to actually touch it, until Lisa takes hold of it and forced my hand against her sex.

“Don't be shy.”  She says as she smooshes my hand around her privates.  “This will all get easier once you are used to it.” 

I was touching her cunt, no big deal.  She was right, there was nothing wrong with this, it was just like doing each others hair or painting each others nails.  Not like I'd ever done that with another girl either. 

Still, I am pretty well schooled at pussy shaving.  Ever since Jacob groped me in the tenth grade and ran around showing everyone a handful of my curly red pubes, I had kept it bald.  It was actually a lot easier shaving someone else, especially around the labia.  I could really get in close and remove small hairs I may other wise have missed.  There was a lot of stubble to remove.

“Done.”  I said finally.

“Not yet.  Shave off the stuff further down.”  Lisa leant back and carefully steadied herself.  With her free hand she spread one of her ass cheeks and revealed a puckered anus. 

Ok, so now I am shaving her ass too.  It wasn't fun, but everything did look a lot cleaned when I was done.  Lisa was happy to sit up again.  She smiled and ran a hand through my soapy hair.  I backed up automatically as she slipped into the water in front of me. 

“Ok lift up your cunt.”

“What?”  I had been saying that a lot.

“So I can do you, remember.”

“Oh, there is no need.  I'm fine really.”

“Nonsense.  I want to do it.  To show how good friends we are.  Here”  Lisa reaches under the water and slides my knees towards her.  She reaches between my legs and lifts my thighs until my pelvis forms a slippery 'X' rated island.  She pulls the island onto her lap and immediately begins probing the edges of the cave. 

“This does look very clean.  You are good at shaving cunts, I wonder if thats something we can put on your resume.” 

My head was resting in the water.  While I felt Lisa expertly probing my crotch, seeking out lone hairs, I took the time to rinse my hair.

“Do you even have any hair down here?”

“Of course!”

“No I mean down here.”

My eyes went wide as Lisa shoved the tip of a soapy finger into my asshole.

“Uhhhh.  No not back there.  Just on the mound really.”

“Up here?”  Lisa stoked the flesh of my hairless pubic mound with her fingers, while the thumb pressed hard against my clitoris. 

“Yes.”  My eyes fluttered, and I forgot about my hair.

“You like this don't you bitch?”

“Yes.  I mean, no.”  I didn't want this, but I didn't pull away either.

Lisa's hand came down lower, its fingers rubbing across my clit while the thumb pressed into the folds of my petal.  Down below, she pressed the finger deep into my anus and worked it along the clenching walls.  It felt unbelievably good back there, even the way the soap burned.

“No means yes for a slut like you.”  Lisa licked her lips.

“No.  Yes.  Please...”

Lisa pressed two long fingers into my cunt, and was about to force a second greasy invader up my greedy asshole.  I wondered if she even realized how many times I had fucked my ass with my old brush handle.  I liked humiliating myself by sticking things up my ass, but it never felt like this.  Nothing has ever felt like this.

She fucks my holes, while my chests heaves and I pant.  I hear a smacking of lips, and focus my eyesight long enough to see Lisa lifting my pussy up to her moistened lips. 

“...please...”  Is all I manage, as i feebly cover my pussy with a hand.  From my efforts Lisa isn't sure if I want her to stop or keep going, but she doesn't give a fuck either.

An furious beeping and whining goes off moments before her red tongue touches my sex. 

“Fuck!!!”  Lisa yells, dumping me unceremoniously in the water. 

She climbs awkwardly out of the tub.  Her butt is still huge.

“Whats wrong?”  I pant.

Lisa turns and slaps me violently across the face, bringing tears to my eyes and momentarily distracting me from the burning need between my legs.

“That's my alarm you stupid bitch.  I'm going to be late to work thanks to you.”

Lisa scoops up her clothes, not bothering to dress.

“.. but it's the middle of the night?”

Lisa comes at me again, and I cower back in the furtherest corner of the bathtub.  My escape seems to frustrate her more.  I want to make her happy, but not if it means letting her hit me in the face.

“You think your top shit because you went to university don't you bitch.  I'm a bakers apprentice.  We don't all get to wake up at 2 o'clock in the afternoon and then decide to skip all our lectures for the day anyway.”

I regrett bragging about how little the workload at university was.  It should have given me tons of time to study on my own, but I wasn't motivated enough for that sort of thing.

“I'm sorry.”

Lisa paused just before leaving and added.  “Note that I said you went to university.  I'm not paying for your fucking tuition, so if you ever want to finish your degree, you better get out there and suck a lot more dicks.”

She slammed the door.  Leaving me to lay back down in the tub.  I wanted to masturbate, badly, but I was too tired now.  I would just finish my hair and go to sleep.

“Bitch...”  I sent hateful waves at Lisa while she got ready for work.  “Oh, and I never sucked any dicks, I just jacked them off.” 

Yeah, I guess that isn't worth much.  Fuck her, I may not have a house, or a car, or money, a job.... a boyfriend.... but at least I am thin and pretty and, at least for now, I have a place to stay.

Chapter 4

Codes: Light, F/f, M/f, f-self, Exhibition, Teen, D/s, Slavery, Humiliation, Reluctant

Sunlight streams in through the apartments large, east facing, windows.  The light spreads from my toes, up along my smooth legs.  The heat disturbs my respite.  The sun climbs along my slender back and touches my face. 

With my sleep finally broken, I sit up.  I rub the sleep from my eyes, and I can feel beads of cum running down my clean, scented, skin.   No.  Not cum, just sweat.  I sit up on the couch that was my bed, and struggle to separate my dreams from reality. 

Did I really suck all those dicks?  The fact that I am still naked, and my knees are bruised lends credibility to some of my dark suspicions. 

"The dumpster..."  I mumble to myself.

Now I remember.  I had jacked some guys off, more than a few, and I had been paid for the work.  In my dreams I took each cock in my mouth, and drank greedily from the delicious white cum.  Then I... no I couldn't have.

I spread my legs and check my holes.  No swelling or bruising, and certainly no blood.  At least that part had only been a dream, or a nightmare.  I struggled in vain as the strangers forced me to the ground beside the dumpster.  The hard gravel cut into my back as men took turns ravishing me.   They would squeeze my breasts hard and I would moan.  Teeth would bite down on my delicate skin and I would cry and whimper.  Hard cocks would plunge into my tight pussy, pounding it incessantly, and I would cum.  Such dreams were not uncommon for me.  I never dreamed dreams of hope.  For me a dream meant watching myself submit to degrading painful acts, and enjoying it.  I would never do something like that really.  I was smart enough to know the truth would be all pain and no pleasure.

I get up and stumble to the fridge.  I am still too tired to be concerned about my nudity, so long as I am alone.  The fridge contains mostly garbage.  Old plates off food long past their prime.  I remember the kitchen benches and coffee table stacked with dishes and trash.  Neither Michael or Lisa are much for cleanliness.  I spot a carton of milk on the bottom shelf of the refrigerator door.  Ignoring the protest from my knees, I kneel down on the cold tiles to examine the used by date.  Satisfied, I raise the container high and begin slowly draining it.

A few drops slide from my mouth and run down my breast.  I pause as I revel in the familiarity.  Before continuing, I spread my knees and thrust my shoulders back.  I raise the phallus high and accept its creamy white bounty.  Satiated, I return the carton and yawn.

Licking the milk from my lips, I rise and look for a place to crash.  It can't be later than eight or nine, and after the events of last night I could sure do with some more sleep.  I tiptoe across the living room carpet and listen at bedroom door.  I can hear a mechanical hum, and I feel cold air blast against my toes.  I dare to open the door.  More cold air assaults me as I peek into the shadowy room.  The apartments single bedroom is dominated by queen sized bed, a long desk holding two computers, and a wall length closet.   The rooms windows are blacked out and heavily curtained.  The air is stale and tastes of sweat.  I dance carefully across the floor, stacked high with magazines, collectibles and old foodstuffs.  I slip onto the soft bed and slide myself under the warm thick quilt. 

I never sleep in the nude, though I think I quite enjoy it.  I roll around on the chilled sheets and savor the feeling.  The bed smells like Michael and Lisa.  It finally occurs to me that this is their bed.  This is where they make love.  I pretended this was my bed, and my lover was about to come home and find me ready and awaiting his carnal needs.  He would have the body of a warrior, the mind of a scholar and the heart of a poet.  I throw the blanket off, as he would.  My fingers part my lips and set to work teasing my honey pot.  His deep intelligent eyes lock onto mine as he kneels on the bed and slips down between my milky thighs.  He seems to know my body as well as I. 

Breathless, I look up and see my lover has turned into a stranger.  A rapist!  I throw my head down against the soft mattress as he violently slaps me.   I bring a hand up to my delicate throat and squeeze, just as my attacker would.  His fingers clamp shut as his (too thin) cock proceeds to violate my insides.  I cry out in excitement and gasp for air, allowing myself much of the first, but little of the latter. 

I flip myself over, and drive my face down into the pillow.  Long fingernails claw painful scratches on my tight behind.  When the assault stops I have raised up on my knees.  I feel a slender shape press against my sphincter as a hand begins to deftly work my clit.  The rapist wins past my defenses and plunders my asshole.  In my mind, his organ dwarfs even Michaels and it tears me open.  In reality I learned long ago that my ass was a potent erogenous zone.  As the rapist steals my dignity I cream my fingers, and my friends bed sheets.  Satisfied, he lets me go and I soon pass into sleep.  The rapist returns while I sleep, and he brings friends.

I am pulled harshly out of my dreams when the bedroom door slams and the room fills with threats of violence.  Lisa stands over me, having just cast the quilt from the bed.  I figured I would apologize to Lisa for using her bed without asking, but she never gave me a chance. 

“I come home after a hard day’s work only to find you lounging around like a spoilt princess in my bed!”

“I'm sorry Lisa.”  I cover myself as much from her angry stare as from the cold air.  “I needed a place to sleep.”

With a show of teeth Lisa steps forward and takes a fist full of my long red hair. 

“You need only what I give you whore!”

Enraged, Lisa tears me off the bed and drags me through the garbage.  I scream and kick, but Lisa is far stronger and easily tugs me along with her.  She drags me into the light and across the carpeted living room.   As I bounce along, I pass Michael’s feet as he sits on the couch watching television.  He is understandably distracted by my writhing naked body.  Lisa releases me when we reach the tiles and I curl up into a ball in front of the fridge.   I rest for only a moment before she once more grabs at my hair, this time lifting my up to my knees. 

“I am sorry Lisa.”

I continue to beg until a slap crashes into my face.  The hit was not a gentle reprimand but a brutal assault.  She hits me again and my pleas become sobbing cries.

“Did you think I was letting you stay here so that you could lay in my bed fingering yourself all day?” 

I couldn't know if she had seen some telltale stain, but the accurate accusation made my cheeks burn almost as much as the slaps had. 

“Before I went to work I left you a lift of chores, and you have not done a single thing ave you?”

“I'm sorry Lisa.”  I cringe at her feet, holding my hands up in front of my battered face.  “I'm sorry I didn't see the list.”

“While you stay her you will do whatever I command, that was the agreement was it not?”

“Yes, and I mean to.  Give me a chance.”

“Here is the list.”  Lisa almost shouts as she thrusts the scribbled note before my face.  “Complete everything to my satisfaction and in a timely fashion and you won't add any more to the punishment you will receive tonight.  Your mother let you get away with being a lazy cunt, but here if you fail to complete your chores, or do a poor effort, I will give you a good old fashioned over the knee spanking.  That is unless you want to leave now?”  Lisa pointed to the door.

How can I leave?  I have no money, not even any clothes.  I agree with Lisa and promise to do a good job. 

“Lisa.”  I ask as she walks away to her room. 

“Yes whore?”

I had made a mistake, and been ungrateful, and maybe I deserved to be hit, but I didn't see that she had to call me names. 

“Could I please have something to wear?”  Being naked was so unnatural.

“Do you think you have earned it?”  She said looking down at me like a piece of garbage.

“No...” I finally agreed. 

She turned away, and that was the end of that.

I stand carefully, and look down past my hard nipple to the list I hold in my trembling hands. 

Whore's Chores:

• Bag up all the garbage
• Gather up all the dishes
• Wash the dishes and put them away
• Mop the tiles
• Vacuum the carpet
• Pack away all the DVD's
• Cook dinner
• Clean the bathroom.

I look down at the list with my mouth agape.  This is everything.  It will take hours for me to do all of this.  The house was in a terrible state.  I hate cleaning, but I’m not a big fan of getting hit any more either.  Lisa had spoke of a punishment I would receive tonight.  I know I deserve to be punished, but it can't hurt to put Lisa in a good mood by showing her I am really trying.

It feels surreal to prance about the apartment naked.  Both Michael and Lisa make no effort to hide their leering.  More than that, I am the butt of much playful groping as I go about my chores.  My silky skin is fair game as I hurry back and forth loaded with bags of garbage and stacks of dishes.  I have no choice but to ignore the hands that caress my thighs whenever I passed.  When I need Michael to help me get a dustpan from the top of a high cupboard he smiles down at me as he grabs it.  He hands me the dustpan, but doesn't let go.  Instead I felt him petting my bald sex gently.  He is more than a foot taller than me and well over twice my weight, but his fingers delicately skip across my flower.  No man or boy has ever had permission to touch me there, but under the circumstances I don’t see how I can deny him.  After a nervous minute, Lisa calls him away.  I can't hear what she said, but I can sense the authority in her voice. 

That was not the last of it though.  Later, as I am washing the dishes, Lisa comes up behind me and presses me against the cold metal edge of the sink.  Each of her hands engulfed one of my firm ass checks and she gropes them playfully. 

“You had better start dinner soon whore,” she warned “or this sweet little ass of yours will be black and blue by time I am finished with it.”

I try to work faster, but Lisa does not leave me be.  She pulls my ass checks apart before squeezing them back together.  I want her to stop, but I don't feel I have the right to order her.  It’s humiliating being pawed at, but if it makes her happy then maybe she will start treating me better.  When I begin to prepare dinner she leaves me alone, with the warning that it had better be good.

While I pulled ingredients and dishes out onto a freshly cleaned table, I have to pause to wipe away tears.  I suck at cooking.  I have always been strangely proud of the fact I suck at 'women's stuff'.  I was scared of putting my fingers anywhere near a sewing machine.  I tended to put washing in the machine and forget about it for days.  I sure as hell couldn't cook. 

“How is it going?”  Michael asks me as he looms over me from behind.  He places his hands on either side of my tiny waist, and I marvel at how his fat fingers almost touch at the front and back. 

“Uh, well... I could use a recipe book.”

“Don't have one.”  He replied as his hands slid down towards my pussy.

“Could you maybe get one off the Internet?  All you have in there is sausages and I would like to know if any of these herbs goes well with them.”

“I guess I can do that.” 

I feel Michael take my hand.  He pulls it down and wraps it around his meaty cock.

“This is unsanitary.”  I whisper to him, keeping watch of Lisa's bedroom door.

Despite my protest I was already hard at work.  A dozen plus hand jobs were actually really tiring, but just one wasn't really a thing at all.   Michaels hands begin exploring my cleft and massaging my breasts.  I do my best to keep working while Michael and I masturbate each other. 

I do a piss poor job of chopping up some old carrots one handed while Michael begins nibbling on my ear.  “I don't even like you.”  He confided in me.  “Don't get your hopes up.  I'd rather fuck Lisa any day.”

I was glad of that, though also strangely jealous.  Why isn't he fucking me right now?   I'm more than pretty.  I redouble my efforts on his cock.  I find I can rub the tip off it against my thigh while I worked the shaft. 

When he is ready to cum, Michael spins me around and begins plastering my bald mound with his warm thick seed.  He continues to leak onto my pussy, even rubbing the swollen head off his giant cock against the lips of my sex.  After painfully tweaking my nipples once more he pulls his pants up and leaves.

I wash my hand, but I have no time to clean myself.  When I was just about to throw the sausages in a pan and let god handle the rest, Michael returns with a printout. 

“What's this?”  I ask.

“The recipe you wanted.”  He looks at me like I'm an idiot.

“Oh, yeah sorry I forgot.  I'm just really stretched thin here,”

“Yeah well, you earned it, whore.” 

He drops the recipe onto the counter, and I see he has printed out the plain text recipe over the top off a full color printout.  The printout is of me, well lit, kneeling on grass covered in cum.  In the picture I am busy beating off two cocks.  I am smiling up at the owner of one (him having just paid me a genuine complement) and the other is exploding white goo all across the side of my face.  I concentrate on the recipe, and try not to think about hundreds of boys sending such pictures to each other.  

The food smells good, and Michael and Lisa are waiting on the coach.  I race back and forth setting up utensils and filling plates.  I place a plate of spicy sausages and steamed vegetables in front of Michael and then Lisa before at last I return with my own plate.  As I sit I am amazed by what a great job I am doing, even while having to do everything naked.

My self congratulations are shattered when Lisa backhands my plate from the table, sending it flying off into the kitchen. 

“What the fuck do you think you are doing whore?  You haven't finished your chores yet.  When you finish everything on the list I will give you something to eat.”

“I'm sorry.”  I bow down and back away into the kitchen. 

“And clean up that fucking mess, whore!”

While on my hands and knees breathing in the delicious smell of my own cooking I begin to cry.  My cries turn into full blown wracking sobs.  As I scrape up the ruined food with my bare hands I am suddenly so very hungry.  It was presumptuous of me to think I could eat before my chores were done, but the name calling is really becoming very hurtful.

“If you don't quit whining I will give you something to whine about!”  Lisa growled.

I sniff hard and bite my lower lip.  I scoop up the last of the food and dump it into a plastic garbage bag before getting a sponge and washing the floor.  I happen to glance at Lisa and find that she and Michael are both staring at my wiggling behind while they eat.  My pink cunt must be peeking out at them too.  She gives me a look that makes me feel like I am being derelict in my duties and I scrub harder.

Hours later, I am hungry and tired.  My nipples are stiff from the cold as my hosts insist on keeping the air conditioning on full ball.  It would probably be ok if I had something to wear.  When I was washing the bathroom I noticed the bruises appearing on my face.  At first I cried, but I know bruises fade, and Lisa will have to start being nice to me once I am settled in.

Lisa decides my time is up and she checks over my work.  I haven't yet packed away the hundreds of loose DVD's, nor have I taken the garbage downstairs to the bins (nor am I bloody likely too unless she gives me something to wear). 

“Well I can see you tried really hard, but you failed.  I guess that means you wasted your time as I am going to punish you more.”

I stood stiffly, almost at attention while Lisa spoke.  I struggle not to cry.  I had really tried.  I didn't know where anything was, and the house was so dirty.  There were so many good excuses but I could see she was waiting for me to argue them.  Instead I waited for her final judgment.

“Ok.  If you have nothing to say, hop on.”  She patted her lap and smiled at me.

This felt too weird.  I came around to her side and gently lowered myself across her knees.  Lisa adjusted my position until my upper body was hanging and my ass pointed up in the air. 

“You will receive ten hits, and more for each time you displease me.  Let’s see...  You slept in my bed without asking, and don't think I couldn't smell your pussy juices all over my clean sheets.  You also failed to finish two of your chores.  That's fifty spanks you will receive today.”

I bit my lip.  Her policy would imply I would earn ten spanks each day no matter what I did.  I didn't like that at all, but now was not the time to argue it. 

She spanks me like a little girl, even though I was never spanked like this as a little girl, and I doubted most people ever were either.  With each hard slap, she would ask me “Did you like that, whore?”  I quickly learned to reply “Yes Lisa, thank you.” 

“You're welcome whore.”  Was always her response.

She throws in a few bonus smacks to help me learn the rules.  While we play out our little parts, she lovingly caresses my ass.  As the punishment go on, even her tender touch brings tears to my eyes.  After more than fifty hard spanks, and over one hundred 'whores' Lisa finally rolled me off her lap onto the carpet. 

I lay on thick carpet, feeling the throb coming from my sore bottom.  If only I had worked harder.  Why did I have to be so lazy? 

I'm not sure how long I rested before Lisa returned.  She lifted me up gently, and pressed a delicate looking (cheap plastic) wine glass into my hand.  She sat down next to me on the plush rug and patted it gently.  I crawled over to her, careful not to spill any of the crimson liquid in my glass.  Lisa had changed clothes.  She now wore a black chemise.  Its thin gauzy material hung from her wide shoulders.  The lingerie made her look feminine.  Even if she wasn't the object of men's fantasies, she could hold her head high.   I couldn't even look her in the eyes.

“Drink up.”  Lisa orders me as she sipped her wine. 

I sat carefully on my side, more concerned with the color of my bottom then the drink in my hand. 

“Drink!”  She orders again.

I didn't want her to have to repeat herself again.  I take the smallest sip of the wine.  The taste fills my mouth.  It is strange, but not at all like the foul alcohol my friends had forced me to imbibe before.  I continue to sip at the drink slowly.  When I notice Lisa has almost finished her first glass, I feel like I have to start drinking faster.  It does taste very nice.

“This will make you feel much better.”  Lisa remarks as she tops up both of our glasses.  “It always calms me down after a long day.”

“Is Michael going to join us?” 

“Normally he would, but I think we should keep tonight between up.  Have a real girl on girl moment.”

“That would be nice.”  I smile nervously, missing the subtext.  Right now I would happily agree to whatever she says so long as she isn't swearing at me or hurting me. 

We drink more and continue talking.  It's nice.  I wish we could have done this years ago.  I get her talking about her job, and I sit fascinated as she spills endless anecdotes about coworkers or stupid customers.  I had never had a job, nor had I been on a sports team.  I never got to experience that microcosm of reality. 

My bottom doesn't hurt anymore, and Lisa's stories are so funny.  I don't really have much to talk about, and pretty quickly Lisa starts asking me more about why my mom kicked me out.  She quizzes me thoroughly about what sort of porn I liked.  I don't even know what some of the stuff she asks is.  It turns out some of her questions were tricks, I am strangely proud of myself for not falling for any of them.  

She asks me more about the lesbian porn on my computer.  I tell her it’s just like the gang bangs, the glory holes, the interracial sex and all the rest.  It's something that I enjoy in the privacy of my own home, but not something I would ever do.

“Did you ever think you would give a bunch of guys hand jobs, while naked no less?”

“No, but that wasn't me.  You made me do that.”  I am quite drunk by now.  Lisa has been overfilling my glass and it was folly for me to try and match her drink for drink anyway. 

“Bullshit, you loved it.  Once you got past the initial terror, you dug it.”  She waves her empty glass at me accusingly.  “I will tell you something else, you were a fucking natural at it too.  I'm not just saying that, I guarantee those guys all believed you had given hundreds of hand jobs before.”

“I was pretty good wasn't I?”  I manage to smile.  I didn't like doing it, but I always liked being good at things.

“You have the most beautiful body I have ever seen.”  Lisa finally said to me.  She was most earnest. 

“Um, thank you.”  I blush uncontrollably.  I can see Lisa's breasts clearly through the sexy lingerie, and my whole body is still on display for her.  The way she looks at me makes me so hot.

“Lisa, I'm sorry for all the trouble I gave you today.  I will do better tomorrow, I promise.  As soon as I have this place cleaned up I will start looking for work.”

“Oh, I wouldn't worry about that.  If you show you are hard working then I think Michael and I could be persuaded to keep you on as a full time house keeper.”

I smile at the joke and play along.  “I would insist on complete dental and a company car.”

Lisa put her glass down and slid over very close to me.  “I am serious, but all I offer is food and board.  If you are really good I will even throw in some clothes.” 

I was breathing heavily now, and a little light headed.  “But, how will I ever finish my degree?”

“Kylie.” She used my name.  I knew everything would turn out ok if I did my best. 

“God gave you a wonderful gift.  You have always known this, but you got it wrong.  It isn't your brains, it's your body.”  Lisa lifts my wine glass to my mouth and forces me to down the last of it before she tosses the glass aside.  She runs a hand through the hair running down my back, and places a hand on my sore rump.  She leans in close and places a gentle kiss on my lips.  I close my eyes.  It is a magical moment.

“But if don't finish university, and I never get any work experience, how will I ever get another job?”

“You will never need another job.”  She runs her hands expertly along my skin as she leans down and takes one of my hard pink nipples into her mouth.

“Aaaaaahhh.” I cried softly.  “You mean I can stay with you forever?”

“Forever and ever.”

Meeting new people scares me.  Wondering what I would do with my mathematics degree once I got it kept me up at night.  I had never been able to picture myself working at a real job, and now I would never have to.  As hard as today was, it was something I had proven I could do.  Already it was more familiar to me than any other job, and familiarity was good.

“I would like that.”  I said with tears in my eyes.

“Promise me you will work hard.”

“Oh I will Lisa.”

“As one of your employer's I think you should call me Miss Summers.”  She whispered gently into my ear while she massaged my breasts.

“Yes, Miss Summers.”

“Good.  Now lie down.”

I lie down on the carpet, my legs spread slightly, hoping Miss Summers will touch me like she did in the bathtub.  I could really use a good orgasm after today. 

Miss Summers lifts her chemise and bunched it about her waist as she crawled forward and knelt over my face.  She presses her cunt down against my nose and mouth, rubbing it back and forth.

“I did promise you would get to eat something.”

Chapter 5

Codes: Light, F/f, M/f, f-self, Exhibition, Teen, D/s, Slavery, Humiliation, Reluctant

The alarm goes off, and my body begins the struggle to sit up before I have even finished waking.  It's still the middle of the night, but it's also the time when Miss Summers has to wake up and get ready for work, and time for me to perform my first chore of the day.  Licking my dry lips unenthusiastically, I crawl up onto the queen sized bed and slither, naked, under the heavy quilt.  It is cozy and warm under the soft quilt, and I wish my thin little blanket did a better job of protecting me from the fiercely cold air conditioning.

I lick my lips in preparation for the duty before me. I place my hands on Miss Summer’s legs and trace along them to their delicate apex. Her familiar scent fills my nostrils. Miss Summers tells me I should try to enjoy this, but it doesn't come easy to me. A feminine hand strokes my delicate neck and urges me on. I take a tentative lick at the soft folds of flesh, causing Miss Summers to stir.

She pulls my face down into her crotch and the smell of sweat and dried cum fills my nostrils. Each night I lay by the foot of the bed on an uncomfortable thin mattress and listen as Mr Lain and Miss Summers engage in passionate love making. I listen intently as his thick cock causes wet squelching noises as he works it in her cunny. They make no efforts at subduing their passion on account of my witness. Miss Summers tells me it is no shame if I feel the urge to masturbate, not having a man of my own, but I must fight the urge. I can see why she wouldn't want me dirtying her room, but it is hard. I would never have imagined how much I envied the two of them.

Her cunt tastes of their dried, intermingled fluids. I keep my tongue stiff and use it to scrub the crust from her pussy. It is unpleasant for me, though Miss Summers enjoys herself thoroughly and that is the important thing. I have to fight down my gag reflex as I unintentionally drink in the reliquefied goo. Miss Summers hears my coughing and spluttering and pulls me in tight against her moist gash.

I lick up and down her slit, pausing to suck on her fat lips. I try to remember all I have learned on the subject. Knowing my talent for 'book learning', Miss Summers has added two hours of fellatio study to my daily chores. She provides me with stories to read and movies to watch. I feel strange kneeling naked in front of the television watching closely as the women on screen lick cunts and suck cocks. I have watched lots of porn before on my computer, but never in the presence of others, and I have never studied it with such scrutiny.

I can feel tears roll down my face as my cheeks burn with shame. My cunnilingus makes sloppy smacking noises as I service my employer and landlord. Miss Summers plays with my ears and neck as I service her fuck hole. Cunt licking is about as enjoyable as my daily spanking, which isn't saying much. I realize I enjoy the humiliation on some level, though I think less of myself for it.

"Yes, suck on my clit you red headed whore."

I have asked Miss Summers not to call me that, but I suppose I am trading sex for food and board. Thankfully, Miss Summers does not allow Michael to fuck me. I cannot thank her enough for sparing me what would surely be a painful coupling. Still, at night I do fantasize about him spreading my legs wide and gently working himself inside of me. In my dreams, he just slams my thin body hard with his monster cock, and I love it even more.

I do my best to please Miss Summers. She will not stand for anything but an enthusiastic tongue fucking. I want to show her how eager I am to pleasure her, even without a hard spanking. I slide a hand under one of her chubby thighs and press a moistened finger against her butt hole. I saw this trick employed in one of the movies I watched, and I still shudder at the memory of Lisa, now Miss Summers, sticking her fingers in both my cunt and ass.

Her body stiffens at the intrusion, and her thighs crush hard against my head. I try to fuck my finger in and out of her hole, as I have always found so enjoyable, but her ass grips me so very tightly. Too late I can tell the uninvited entry was as unwelcome as it was unexpected. Miss Summers throws off the blanket and tears my mouth from her cunt with a wet popping noise.

"I'm sorry, Miss." I immediately whimper.

Miss Summers slap my face hard, and again. She grips my hair painfully and grinds my face against her cunt once more. She reaches over and lifts one of my slender legs up. I try hard to please her, ignoring the sting in my cheek. As I continue to probe her warm snatch, I feel a hand work around my ass, and fingers touching the opening of my back passage. I grunt as a pair of unlubricated fingers are force hard into my dry hole.

"You do not touch my ass unless I order it, whore!"

"I'm sorry." I cry out as I continue to munch her smooth vagina.

She presses her digits into my protesting asshole, sawing the wrinkled sphincter back and forth painfully. The crude finger rape hurts awfully.

"I'm sorry, Miss." I pause from my fellatio.

"I don't want your apologies." She twists my hair and begins rotating her fingers around in my hole. "I want your love." She means it in the crudest most debauched sense.

Miss Summers twists her body and flips me onto my back. She straddles my face, smothers my head beneath her meaty thighs and gyrates her dripping lips across my crying face. I try my best, I really do, but I have always had a fear of suffocation, and I begin to panic quickly. While I squirm, Miss Summers lifts my legs up into the air, raiding my rear. She takes up a swift pumping motion with her fingers, fucking straight down into my ass.

She raises up for just a second, giving me a glorious breath of fresh air. A large gob of spit spills across my right eye and cheek. My face and chest are bright red, in stark contrast to my white skin which almost hides against the bed sheets. Miss Summers spanks and bites my poor battered bottom while she continues to sodomize me. I rarely receive more than the standard ten spanks a day now, I have been working very hard.

When the flesh above me crashes down once again, my tongue flicks back and forth automatically. Miss Summers has shifted slightly and she brings her ass crack down right over my mouth. I give it a long lick before I notice, and my tongue is covered with disgusting ass sweat. I try to fight back. I know I shouldn't, but this is so horrible. I can feel her dirty opening ribbing back and forth across my puckered lips.

My tongue soaks up the foulness and it slowly leaks into my mouth. The continued, rapid fire, plunder of my asshole has not for a moment stopped hurting, though it arouses me terribly. My sphincter groans as Miss Summers uses her two fingers to spread it in opposite directions. I hear her work up a big wad of spit before she dribbled it down, past my straining muscle, and into my anus. She pulls her fingers from my ass and offers them to me; I lick them thoroughly. My mouth already tastes vile, and when the fingers return to my asshole, as they are sure to do, I know it will feel better. Sure enough, the wet fingers once again fight past my clenched anal muscle. They go in much easier than before, and Miss Summers continues to drip droop onto my bunghole. It feels like paradise. The lubricated fingers tease my sphincter and play with my soft inner walls.

My mother did a wonderful job of making me fear my vagina. It is for the making of unwanted babies and the spreading of diseases among degenerates.

I try to fight the coming orgasm, knowing I will be punished for it, but Miss Summers uses her hands and mouth to please me. She pushes me over the edge and I cream, dripping wet love from my upraised pussy down to my soft breasts. By now Miss Summers ass crack is pristine, though my mouth tastes like a garbage can.

I am still writhing in the throes of orgasm when an alarm goes off in my head. The alarm signals failure.

“Ughh damnit.” Miss Summers cusses. With little effort on her part, she pushes me off her bed, and onto the, now clean, floor. “If you can't do your job you are going to need to find somewhere else to live!”

Miss Summers stood up and began getting ready for work. I crawl back to my mattress, not wanting to risk angering her further. For failing to please her, and shamefully cuming myself, I expect a thorough spanking tonight. I hope she spanks me, hard; the alternative is so much worse. I bite my pillow and cry into it. I only tried to make Miss Summers happy, and now she has to go to work unsatisfied. My life, indeed my foreseeable future, has shrunk to performing a few select tasks. I wondered what would happen to me if Miss Summers told me to leave.

“Don't worry Kylie.” I hear Michael's muffled voice float out from under a pillow. “She has wanted to get you between her legs ever since she was thirteen. She isn't going to let you go now.”

I remember I was secretly excited when one of my friends admitted he had masturbated thinking about me. Has Lisa done the same thing?

“Thank you... Mr Lain.” I said. It always felt strange, whereas Lisa was so naturally, Miss Summers.

“Lets go back to sleep.”

“Yes, Sir.”

I try to sleep, but my mouth tastes awful. Worse, my mind won't stop spinning. I wonder what Miss Summers will do to me when she comes home. I wonder if I can really live like this. I know its scary out there, but other people seem to manage, and I am so much better than most of them; or at least that is what I have always thought. I shiver from the cold and wonder, If I am really so superior, what am I doing here?

I cannot tell if I have gotten any sleep at all before the next alarm goes off. It starts off soft, so by time I crawl up onto the bed, Michael is still sleeping. I lift a section of cover, exposing his beautiful big dick. He just had fucked his fiancé last night, I don't understand how his body can be so desperate for more without stimulation.

Already I can see little goosebumps forming on his skin. I press my tongue against the base of his hairy nut sack and take a long hard lick of his penis, all the way up along the thick underbelly of the shaft to the bulbous sheathed tip. I pull back and admire the snail trail of saliva. Michael lets out a half yawn, half moan and instinctively pulls the blankets across his exposed middle.

I can't believe Miss Summers had to hold me down the first time I gave Mr Lane a blowjob. I straddle Michael's wide waist and crawl backwards along him until we approach a sixty-nine position. As Michael is an astonishing 17 inches taller than me, my spread pink pussy is out of reach of his mouth, not that he would have any obligation to reciprocate my morning services.

I take a firm hold of his shaft. It seems even bigger when I am holding it. I gently roll back the foreskin, and inhale the rotten smell of smegma. I pull the skin down tautly away from the head and use my hands to wipe away the worst of the old cum. I know Miss Summers thinks I should use my tongue to clean him, but he doesn't call me on it, and the job is much nicer this way.

I kiss the huge tip of his rod, and roll my wet tongue around the soft head. I think of all the boys who would have bent over backwards for me to suck their cock, and who would have bent me over afterwards if allowed. Had I known it was this enjoyable, I think I would have spent much of my teenage years on my knees sucking dick. Compared to what I had already been licking, the taste was a step up, but it was the warmth, the texture and the feeling of taking something living inside myself that I loved the most.

I plant small kisses on the tip while lovingly brushing the shaft clean with a stiff tongue. I would love to play with it longer, but even one of my amateurish blow jobs quickly gets Michael off, and I know he too has to go to work soon. After failing to please Miss Summers, I work super hard to please her fiancé. I take a good grip of his balls with my left hand, and play with them gently. I press his testicles apart and pull them back together. I let the soft flesh flow between my fingers before closing them and pulling away. My right hand works his long rigid shaft. I'm not sure how sensitive it is, but I certainly enjoy it. So thick, so powerful. I can fell little droplets falling from my pussy as I imagine what sort of damage he could inflict on me with this man's cock. Opening wide, I take the entire tip in my, comparatively, small mouth. I fold my gums back across my teeth and let the man meat fill my face hole.

While I work, Michael pulls open the two smaller pink lips exposed by my already spread open vagina. He tugs on them and pokes me with childish curiosity. I gather Miss Summers rarely sucks him off, nor is she the sort of woman (a slut like me) who is likely to present her nethers for such crude inspection. He is always most pleased by my morning duties. His fumbling touches are not designed to give me pleasure, but they do provide a stimulating distraction and enhance the cock sucking experience for me.

When the head presses against the back of my throat my body spasms as I suppress the urge to throw up. I have been working really hard at this, sitting in front of the television with Miss Summers most lifelike dildo. I calm myself and press my head down against the mighty phallus. I feel it enter my throat, but in a matter of seconds I am forced to pull it out. I splutter and gag, dripping saliva all over Michael's cock and pubes. I try again, and fail to make any real progress. Maybe his cock is just too big for me, or maybe I need more practice. Irrespective of my failings, Michael quickly shoots his morning load in my mouth. I seal my lips around his cock and keep drawing on it until he is finished. When I think I have it all, I tip my head back and blatantly swallow the gooey seed. I wish it tasted really nice, but it doesn't. It isn't awful though, and if it makes everyone else so happy I don't mind swallowing it. I know it isn't bad for me.

After thoroughly cleaning Michael's spent, shrinking, cock, I roll off, turn around and cuddle in beside him. I throw an arm across his hairy chest and enjoy the feel of his skin against my erect nipples. Looking down I see his erection has been satisfied. I love you, is what I imagine myself saying to my lover. I love you, is his reply.

“I never could have imagined you, Kylie O'Brien, would sleep on my floor and suck my dick every morning.”

I look down and let my hair fall over my flushed face. That was the name my mother called me, the name proud teachers sung out when handing out achievement awards. It didn't seem right to sully such a good name.

“You know you aren't allowed on the furniture unless you are working.”  He breaks my daydream. 

“Yes Sir.” I sigh as I roll off the bed. It is time for me to start breakfast anyway, after I get cleaned up.

Chapter 6

Codes: M+/f, f-self, Exhibition, Teen, D/s, Slavery, Humiliation, Reluctant

When Michael leaves for work, I begin to wash up the bowls and spoons from our breakfast.  As I do so, I rest a hand on my tummy and feel the milk, and two loads of Mr Lain's semen, sloshing around inside me.  He lasted longer the second time, and I found it even more enjoyable.  Kneeling on the carpet in front of the apartment door, I actually had to stretch up to take his penis into my mouth.  He loomed so large above me.  I worked so hard to please him, but when he was done, he left without even saying goodbye. 

The washing up doesn’t take long at all now that there is no backlog.  I turn the air conditioners off so it isn't so damn cold in here.  After placing a small towel across the coach, I sit down and grab the tv remote.  This is more my style.  I know Ms Summers had told me not to sit on the furniture, but that’s just so I don't make a mess.  Besides, what she doesn't know can't hurt me.

I spend the next hour lounging around watching morning cartoons.  They aren't very good, but Mr Lain locked the bedroom when he left, so I can't get at their extensive pirate DVD collection.  The apartment consists of the one bedroom, the toilet / bathroom, and the living room with the attached small kitchen.  I still don't have anything to wear, but without anyone around, it doesn't seem to be a big deal.

When the morning cartoons finish, I switch channels to a repeat of a morning aerobics program.   Ms Summers insists I get some exercise, seeing as I am trapped inside all day.  I could leave, but if the door shut I would be locked out, and that would be bad.  Spending some time exercising each day seems like a pretty good idea actually, it’s not like I have much else to do anyway. 

I follow the routine as instructed by the tall statuesque blond host.  The way her thin blue leotard hugs her ample breasts and rides the curves of her crack must surely boost the shows ratings.  It is just this side of obscene, but then again, I am doing the same marching and stretching completely nude.  I was always so lousy with fashion, apparently, well I guess for now its something I just don’t have to worry about.

Soon my body is covered in a layer of sweat.  Some of the moves cause my unbound breasts to fly around and slap down against my ribs, throwing off little droplets of sweat.  The camera makes sure to zoom in on the host’s crotch whenever her suit rides up between her sex lips.  Each time, she slips a single finger under her suit and deftly pulls it out of her vagina without losing a step; quite professional if you ask me.  Still, the camera work is rather lewd, and not for the first time I question the intended audience for the program.  I cannot deny that I enjoy watching the crotch and breast area of her leotard get flushed with sweat.

After a full hour of sweating my ass off, I could use a shower.  I better make it a cold one too.  I make sure to drink allot of water, but I am forbidden from helping myself to the contents of the fridge, and that’s something I think Ms Summers would be likely to notice.

After my shower, I return to lounging on the couch.  I wish Ms Summers had cable.  Daytime tv is just so boring.  For all the strange things that have happened to turn my life upside down, my days are actually fairly dull.  Now that I have finally got the house clean, it doesn’t take much time each day to keep it that way, but this does leave me with very little to occupy my time.  It would be great if Ms Summers would let me use her computer or read some of her books, but as she is feeding me and giving me a place to sleep, I have no right to complain.

I doze off for awhile until noon.  I am aware of the lack of lunch.  I don’t eat much, but it would be nice to have something to nibble on.  Well, I suppose I do have one thing…

I distract myself from any niggling hunger by starting another of my daily chores.  I lift a long, thin, flesh coloured dildo from alongside the television and kneel down in front of it.  I pick up the two DVD cases left on top of the machine.  One purports to contain over two hours of drunk girls on summer break sucking strangers cock, the other shows a gorgeous Japanese woman in professional attire, kneeling down in the middle of a circle of naked men.  I have done that!  Well… sort of.

I sit back down on my knees and watch as some Japanese titles flash up before the movie starts proper.  It looks like our leading lady is a teacher, though her class looks pretty old; some of them are even wearing masks.  She minces around the classroom awkwardly on uncomfortably high heels. Her enormous bust pressed preposterously against her thing white blouse.  She busies herself handing out test papers while the men that are supposed to be her students use the opportunity to feel up her legs and ass.  I can tell she has already been crying and she continues to cry quietly as the scene goes on. 

Already some of the men have pulled out their (small) dicks and they begin to play with themselves.  As I continue to watch, I begin using my tongue to lubricate the shaft of the sex toy.  While the men keep running their hands up her stockings and into her incredibly short skirt, they begin saying things, in Japanese.  I wish I knew what they were saying.  Their words seemed to humiliate the poor woman greatly. 

“Why are you wearing such an indecent skirt Ms O’Brien?”  I imagine one of the students asking me.

“It’s the only skirt I own.”  I imagine myself answering shamefully.

“It is unfair of teacher to tease her class so.”

I try to push their hands away, but there are too many.  By now students are getting out of their seats and crowing around me.  For every hand I stop, two more grope my body.  At some point I am no longer pushing hands away, instead I find students holding my arms.  Nothing is sacred to these boys, and my breasts become a target for unsolicited mauling. 

“Please stop.”  I mutter submissively, just as the woman onscreen must be doing.  It doesn’t take many of these sorts of videos to figure out what Japanese word for stop is.  My hands roam my body, simulating their lustful groping. 

“I think Ms O’Brien is enjoying this!”

“She really is a slut.”  One of the other men laughs.

I can feel my face glowing with the though of so many men treating me like an inferior.  My feeble pleas are ignored, and fingers begin exploring my private places.  Even as my white shirt is unbuttoned, a man dares to kiss me on the lips.  I struggle and pull away, leaving him to slobber up and down the side of my face.  While I concentrate on avoiding kisses, two men release my huge tits.  They each take a two handed grip of one of my udders and start licking and sucking on the large nipple.  Such breasts are wasted but for times like this.

I begin to whimper and whine, as only Japanese women seem able.  Fingers find their way into both of my lower holes, and I am no longer standing, rather I am being held erect.  The men clamped to by breasts make loud licking and sucking noises, while those finger banging me continue their taunts. 

“Ms O’Brien is so wet!”

“Her ass is sucking on me finger.  She wants it bad!”

“Stop it, stop it!”  I beg softly, unable to challenge such forward men. 

I begin fingering my moist pussy while the men on screen continue to molest my, very grown up, body.  I would never have tits like that.  No woman really had tits like that.   I rub the dildo along my slit, further moistening it. 

I look up and notice I have been forced to a kneeling position.  The students gather around me with their eager cocks hanging out.  I wipe away tears with one hand, while the other demurely strokes one of my pupils penis’.   It looks like at some point it was decided I would service my entire class.

When the first cock brushes against my red lips, I place the tip of the flesh coloured dildo up to my mouth.  The two phalluses enter my mouths simultaneously.  I enjoy watching myself unenthusiastically suck on the end of one man’s cock while my hands serve two more lucky guys.  In reality, I force the dildo straight to the back of my mouth.  It has taken hours of practice just to get this far.  Once upon a time I would have already started gagging.   I press the cock against the opening of my throat, and immediately I have to withdraw it.

I find this all very difficult, but Ms Summers insisted if sucking Mr Lains cock was going to be one of my duties, then I needed to devote some time each day into mastering the skill.   Whenever his massive cock is in my mouth, I struggle to breathe; this is the focus of my current study.

Honestly, the woman on the video is not a very skilled felatrix.  She isn’t even trying.  Looking at her tits, I have to assume this is something she does for a living, so I have to wonder why she is so bad at it. 

I press the cock back against my throat.  I hold it there and breathe through my nose.  The tip of the cock feels so weird pressing down against the meat of my tongue.  I try swishing my tongue slightly from side to side and wonder if that would please Michael.  It is hard to see what I going on inside a woman’s mouth when she is sucking cock.  Ms Summers has given me some print outs to study, but I really need more practical experience.  Unfortunately, I can only experiment with Mr Lain’s cock for so long before it cums in my mouth, and it isn’t even that long a time. 

I take a deep breath through my nose before forcing the end of the dick down my air hole.  His dick is so big, and my mouth isn’t.  Ms Summers says a whore like me should be able to use my mouth and throat to please cock.  I don’t see how she justifies calling me a whore.  She gets fucked every night.  Why, I bet she has been fucked like a hundred times, probably way more.  She is the slut, not me. 

I spend the remains of the hour practicing deep throating.  At the end, I reward myself by fingering myself to an orgasm.  I am careful to keep my mess on the old ratty towel Ms Summers lets me use.  I wish I could stick the dildo up my ass, I have never had a real dildo up there, but knowing it would go back into my mouth the next day ruins that idea.  I don’t even consider fucking my cunt with the pretend cock, not even when the students pull their teacher down to the floor and take turns raping her while she gives out little annoying cries of pain.  Their cocks are so small, compared to Michael’s anyway, and the bitch must do this thing all the time.  I really don’t see why she is so unhappy.  She is gorgeous with her dark eyes and straight red-brown hair.  Her long legs and ample bosom makes me look like such a girl.  She is so beautiful, and clearly those men want her so badly, why was she so unhappy?

When I am finished, I have another cold shower.  I always become aware of my nakedness when I get into and out of the shower.  Without clothes, it always feels like I am missing a step. 

After the shower, I lie down on the couch and try to understand what the hell is going on in one of the daytime soaps.  It isn’t long before I am back on my knees sucking cock in front of the television.   If I can just get it another inch down my throat, then maybe Mr Lain will see how hard I am working. 

Chapter 7

Codes: F/f, Exhibition, Teen, D/s, Slavery, Humiliation, Consensual, Piss, Caning

“That was wonderful.”  Miss Summers complements me as she pushes her plate away and leans back on the couch.

“Thank you.”  I reply modestly.

Misss Summers was the last to finish eating.  Now that she has, I get up off my knees and begin taking the empty plates away.  I could tell Lisa and Michael were both staring at my tight butt and the fresh cane welts bisecting it.  Upon returning home, Ms Summers had found a long strand of auburn hair on the white couch.  She saw through my lies and conducted my daily punishment then and there.  She bent me over the arm of the couch and took a cane to my ass and thighs.  I had never been canned before, and the experience was quite bracing.  I had been reduced to tears almost immediately.  The knowledge that I deserved to be punished lent me strength.  I enjoyed feeling Ms Summers stroke her hands up and down my taut legs and ass between the biting impacts of the cane.  Each time the cane kissed my skin, I cursed myself for risking her displeasure.

I begin filling the sink with hot water.  My ass still smarts.  I am mindful of the raised, partially weeping sores.  I sink my hands in the near boiling water and wash my battered bottom.  If I am lucky, Miss Summers will put a movie on, and I can sit… no, better make that kneel on the floor, and watch it after I have finished washing the dishes.  It is perhaps the highlight of my day.

“Kylie.”  Miss Summers summons me.

“Yes Miss?”

“We need to talk.”

I hate those words.  I have always hated them.  If everything is good, there is nothing to talk about. 

I turn off the water faucets and walk around the counter dividing the kitchen and the living room.  I stand in front of the couch.  My hands are covered by oversized yellow gloves, and I hold them over my bald pussy. 

“Take those silly gloves off.  Now kneel down.  Rise up high on your knees.  Legs spread wide!” 

I follow each instruction, despite (or perhaps because of) the humiliation I feel.  I don’t know why I am so willing to expose myself shamefully like this.  What would my friends think of me?

“You have done well Kylie.  Michael and I have talked it over, and we would like you to stay with us permanently.”

I return a weak smile.  “I am happy to keep working here.”

“We don’t want you to stay on as our servant Kylie.  We want you to agree to be our slave.”

“Slave?”  My mouth gapes.  “Like a sex slave?”

Miss Summers smiles down at me.  “My my, aren’t you a horny little thing.  Yes, as our slave you will be required to serve us sexually whenever we choose, but you seem to enjoy that.”

“Will Mr Lain fuck me?”  I ask nervously.  I am not sure what I want to hear.

“Yes, eventually.  I’m sure in the fullness of time we will use you in any number of degrading and humiliating ways.  Being our slave will mean you will devote your days and nights to keeping us happy, always putting our needs ahead of your own.  You will be forbidden to own anything, and we will provide you with everything you need to serve us.  If you ever fail to please us, you will be punished.” 

I feel suddenly very exposed.  I hang my head in shame and raise my hands to cover my breasts.  “Why would I agree to something like that?”  I ask in a low voice.

Miss Summer’s face sobers.  She leans against the armrest of the couch and replies, “Honestly, I don’t know what makes a sub like you tick, but I know the idea is at least appealing to you; after all, you haven’t said no yet.”

“What’s a sub?”  I ask, not understanding her words.

“You are.  A sub is a submissive, someone who enjoys being dominated by others.”

“I am n……” 

“Knees wider!  Push those tities out!”  She barks at me.

I comply immediately.  It is not until my knees are spread obtusely and my chest is lifted proudly that I realize what I have done.

“Do you believe me now little pet?  This is the real you.”  She stretches forward a naked foot and brushes her toes against my smooth sex.  “I will pleasure you, and take pleasure from you.  I will care for you when you are sick, and punish you when you are bad.  I will be your lover, your mother and your mistress.  Pleasing me will be your first thought in the morning and the last.  I am offering you what you really want.  Are you brave enough to accept?”

Bravery, not exactly my strength.  Is this what I really want?  To be used and abused so meanly.  I would have thought this decision would have hours, or days, instead I had made my mind up in mere moments.

“I need you to promise me one thing.”

“Oh?”  Lisa asked, surprised that I would even be willing to negotiate. 

I struggle to put my chaotic thoughts and emotions into words.  I am unable to structure them quite to my satisfaction.  “… could you please… love me?”  Asking this actually felt more embarrassing then having my vagina stroked by Miss Summer’s chubby toes.

Miss Summers sits forward, perching on the edge of the couch.  “I will love you as I would love a cute kitten, or my most prized possession.”  She strokes my cheek, then lowers her hand to grope one of my breasts.  Her touch is loving, possessive and protective.  So long as I am hers, I will be safe.

“Then in that case I agree to be your slave.”  My eyes well up with tears, and despite myself I leap up into my owner’s arms.  I throw my arms around Miss Summers and she holds me against her bosom.  After a long healing hug, Miss Summers digs her fingers into my wounded rear and pulls me up onto her.  She rolls over and lays atop my naked body.

I do not struggle as she ravishes me.  The first time we had sex, I was too drunk on red wine to defend myself.  The second time she simply held me down with her superior size and strength.  This time I let her do with my as she would.  I am hers now.  Her hands roam across my virgin body.  I hope I please her.  I wish I found her more attractive, it would make things easier.

Later, I kneel on the carpet, still flushed with a freshly sexed glow.  Miss Summers sits on the couch.  She has cleaned herself up and wears an erotic looking negligee.  We both drink wine, and I can still taste her pussy on my lips.  I can still feel her juices drying on my unwashed face. 

I am confused when Mizs Summers lifts several pages of paper onto her lap and straightens them. 

“What are we doing?”  I whisper between sips of wine. 

“We have some paperwork to fill out pet.”  She replies.  I don’t mind being called pet.  It is a long way up from whore. 

“This is a bondage checklist.”  She begins.  “We will work through it and find out where you set your limits.”

“What do you mean by limits?”  I have looked at lots of porn, plenty of it BDSM related, but never really investigated the culture.

“Well, you let me know the things you really enjoy doing, the things you are indifferent to, the things you dislike but will do to please me, and the things you will simply not do.”  She finished, with a long breath.

“You mean I can say no to things?” 

“This isn’t ancient Rome, Kylie, but I would prefer you never say no.  What we are doing now is making sure I never put you in a position where you would want to say no.  Understand?”

I nod.

We begin going through the list, and it appears to be quite extensive.  Often I think I have answered a question only to have one or more exceedingly similar questions follow. 

“Are you willing to have your ankles restrained?” Miss Summers asks me.

“Tied up?”

“Or locked together, yes.”

“For how long?”

“I think here we should just indicate the activity in general, there are later questions concerning the duration of bondage and the location.  So do you consent to having your ankles bound?”

“Um, yes.”

“And as a rating from zero to five, how much would you say it turns you on?”

“Zero to five?”

Lisa sighs.  “I didn’t write this Kylie.  We start at zero as a turn-off, and five is incredibly aroused.”

“I think I might enjoy it.”

“I will make that a two, two is Like.”  Lisa marks the page.  “And how often would you like to have your ankles restrained.  Is it something you would only be willing to do occasionally or it is something you would like done to you all the time?”

“I’m not sure.”  I answer nervously.  I really do hate not knowing the answer to questions.

“That’s ok pet.  We both have a lot to learn.”  Miss Summer fills my half drunk wine glass. 

As we go through each item, Lisa probes into my sexual past.  I admit to some light self bondage.  I consent to arm sleeves and admit to be turned on by blind folds.  I have to ask what a body bag is, and shy away from any claustrophobic options.  The first difficult choice I face is breast bondage.

“Well?”  Miss Summers asks again.  “Do you think you would enjoy having your breasts tied up?”

“I think I would.”  I answer as I look down at my lovely breasts.  I know it can be extremely erotic looking.  “Does it hurt?”

“It can, but I don’t think it has to hurt too much.”

“Well ok, if it’s something you and Mr Lain really want, but I don’t think I want it to hurt too much.”

“Mmm, but hurting a little is ok?  I felt how wet you were after I canned your succulent ass.  You had better answer honestly when we get to the spanking questions.”

For some of the questions, even Miss Summers could not give me an adequate description.   Miss Summers is very insistent I consent to wearing hoods.  I'm not sure what types of hoods it means.  The thin shinny black type, I think it is latex, is very sexy.  I agreed to hoods so long as I can breathe easily.  Later I agreed to all manner of gags, including penis gags.  We agreed she will make sure my nostrils are always clear and unobstructed should my mouth by occupied by any person or object. 

I confided to Miss Summers how I had once filled my mouth with several pairs of my panties to pretend I had been gagged by a man who kidnapped me.  I frigged myself as I screamed into the panties while my parents slept.

I can’t keep the smile from my face when the subject of handcuffs arose.  My pussy gets wet just thinking about being cuffed.  I loved letting boys handcuff me with the little grey plastic handcuffs you get in show bags.  Maybe it was the attention.  When you handcuff someone, you acknowledge they are special. 

I have no practical experience with most of this, so I try to leave my options open, except for the asphyxiation stuff.  I reluctantly agree to let Miss Summers try genital bondage on me at least once.  Watching thin chains hanging from clamps biting into a woman’s labia can be terribly exciting, but I am worried it may be just too painful.  I realize Miss Summers was doing her best to get me drunk.  Probably a good idea.  Sober I would be too cautious to answer honestly. 

Wearing restraints under clothing in public is the next gash moistening question.  The idea of walking around in public with secret things hidden under my clothes, or in me, is just so incredibly hot.  I had walked around my house, and even eaten meals at the kitchen table with things shoved up my ass.  Ms Summers, intrigued by my attraction, insists on having me recount each dirty secret.

“Now some fetish questions.”

I thought we were doing fetish questions. 

“Are you aroused by heights?” Ms Summers continues.

“I’m fucking terrified by heights.”  Even talking about it made my wine glass shake in my hand.

“How about sex with amputees?”

I really did have to check if she was being serious.  “Do we know any amputees?”

“Would you have a problem with sucking the dick of a man in a wheelchair?”

“I guess not.”  I admit.  “He would probably appreciate it.”

“Do you think it would be more or less exciting?”

“I’m sorry, I just don’t know.”

She moves onto the next item.  “Sex with statues?”

“Bullshit!”  Now I know she is fucking with me.  I crawl over to her and check out the page.  I squint and let my drunken eyes focus.  “O m g.  That’s a real fetish?  Well, I… I don’t know.  Maybe…  How would that even work?”

“I will mark it as consent for now, but with little interest.”

“High heel fetish?”

Leaning against the couch, I look up into Ms Summers eyes and give her a guilty smile.  I nod.

“So you would enjoy wearing high heels or servicing me while I wear them?”

“Yes!”  I agree quickly.  “Either.  Both.”

“Hmm, looks like I will have to buy you a pair of sluty high heel shoes won’t I?”

“Yes Miss Summers.”  I smiled stupidly.  She is really going to buy me something.

“Call me Mistress please pet.”

“Yes Mistress.”  I feel a tingle as I say her new title.

“Bestiality.”  She moves on with the list.

I pause like a kangaroo in headlights.  I bite down hard on my left hand.  “No.  Please no.”

Lisa is sober, and actively reading my emotions.  She notices the indecision play across my face.

“Holy shit!  You are interested in it aren’t you?”

“I am.” I admit, even while shaking my head.  “But I really don’t want to do it.  Not ever.”

“Tell me, do you like watching a girl get mounted b a big furry dog? Or maybe sucking a dog’s dick? How excited does it make you?” 

I can’t say it.  I can’t even look at her.  I think my mother could have handled the lesbian porn, the interracial porn, the girls being caned or gangraped, but not the animal porn.  It was more than she could forgive, let alone accept.  I hold up a single hand, with all five fingers outstretched. 

“Ok.”  Lisa was surprised.  “So that’s a five for arousal, but what was the limit again?  A zero means you will not ever do it under any circumstances, a one means you are extremely unwilling to do it, and would only do it under the most strict orders.”

“Zero.”

“Are you sure?  Think about it.  I promise, if we make it a one, I will only ever make you do it if you deliberately disobey me, but this way it will be hanging over your head.  Isn’t that kind of exciting?”  Lisa is half guessing, not really understanding a submissive mindset, as she is not submissive in even the slightest way.  “Don’t you think it would make you a better slave?”

“I guess.”

“So it’s a one?”

I could just say no.  I should say no.  I will say no.  “Yes.”  Fuck.  Why did I just say that?  Did I do it to please her?  There is now way I would have said that sober.

“Ok this is good.  You are testing your limits.  Next up, asphyxiation.”

“No.  Hell no.  Next.”

“Ok.  Face slapping.  Well I know you have done that, and are willing to do it.  I’m also pretty sure you like it at least a little.”

“Well maybe, but only sort of… loving slaps when I am bad.  Just don’t hit me when you are angry.”  The bruises from some of her early slaps had only recently faded. 

“Fantasy abandonment?”

Even the thought of it made me get all weepy and causes my lower lip to wobble.

“Ok ok, that’s a no to fantasy abandonment.  I can make you suck a dog’s cock, but not pretend to leave you anywhere.”  She really didn’t understand the hit and miss nature of my answers. 

I’m not sure if it was the continued talk of abandonment, or the thought of sucking an animal’s dick, but I burst into tears, and Mistress Summers had to hold me gently and promise to look after me.  We were able to continue the checklist a few minutes later.

“Fantasy gang rape?”

“Fantasy like it isn’t real?”  I query

“Well it isn’t really rape because we set it up before hand and you are ok with it.”

“But it is real in that a bunch of men have sex with me at the same time?”

“Yes.”

“Ok.”

“Ok.” She agrees and then realizes she has ticked the wrong box.  “Ok?  You mean you are ok with that?”

I feel uncertain under her gaze.  I thought my answer would please her, not that I did it for her.

“Sure.”  I answer.  “I am a sex slave now.  Of course I am happy for a bunch of men to fuck me.”

Lisa is clearly shocked.  “You were always so worried about diseases or getting pregnant?”

“Well,” I explained.  “You will take care of me now, so I don’t have to worry, right?”

Mistress Summers thinks about what I said and nods.  “What a clever pet.”

“Ok fantasy rape?”

“Oh no that’s right out.”

Mistress looks at me, obviously confused, and I burst out laughing.  “I’m sorry Mistress, but those questions really should have been in the other way around, if only due to alphabetical order.”

“Yes, well I will mark you down for a ‘yes I want to held down and have my holes fucked hard all the time’.”

“Feathers and fur?”

“I have no idea what that means…”

“Me neither.”

Further down the list, dirty words and erotic dancing scored high.  To Mistress Summer’s surprise golden showers and being videotaped also scored high.”

“You would let people piss on you?”

“Do you want to piss on me?  Its not so bad, so long as it doesn’t get in your eye.”

“Have you ever let someone piss on you before?”

“No.” I reply. “Not someone else, but I have peed on myself while laying down in the bathtub.

“Have you ever drunk pee?”

“I used to drink my own while I masturbated, but only when I was bad.” 

Mistress Summers looks at me in a new light.  She must have thought she was corrupting me, when in truth, I was already there.  She drains her wine glass and stands.  Bunching up her black negligee carefully, she lets out a rich golden stream into the tall glass.  Droplets run down her legs and dripped onto her fingers.  The narrow glass fills quickly, and she has to clamp off the stream.

Lisa places the glass carefully on the table, but I surprised her when I surge forward.  I lick the yellow dribble running down the inside of her thigh.  I follow it up to the wet flower, which I lick and suck clean.  It takes so bad, and I am such a filthy slut for doing it.

Mistress has fallen back onto the couch.  When I look up to see if I have pleased her, she feeds me her piss soaked fingers.  I suck on them greedily.  She holds the glass up to my mouth, and drink.  She pours it in in small sips, unknowingly causing me to taste more of the foul acid.  It’s so much easier to take quick shots of piss, but this way can be more fun.  When I finish downing the glass I reach for the wine bottle. 

“No my pretty little whore.  I think you can sit there and enjoy the taste of me in your mouth.” 

I kneel back down, thrilled to have someone who will love me for who I am, and force upon me what I crave.

Continuing with the list, injections are out while catheters and enemas are both definitely in. Anything to do with the nose is out, except nostril hooks.  Speculums are a sometimes affair.

The pain checklist was next, and was harder for me.  I admit I enjoy the hair pulling, over the knee spanking and even the belting and canning (if done very lightly).  I agree to try nipple clamps and labial clips.  I surprise Mistress again with the sex checklist.  Pretty much everything is in.  Ass, cunt, mouth, flesh and plastic.  I want to feel wanted, I want to be used. 

We finish up by going over my house rules.  I am strictly forbidden from using anything without permission.  I will sit on the floor, eat off the floor and sleep on the floor unless instructed otherwise.  I wish wash myself with a pair of Mistress’ old panties and a bucket of water, and I will relieve myself in a bucket, without the luxury of toilet paper.  My food intake will be strictly controlled.  Until Mistress selects a good diet for me, that means semen and leftovers.

I try to sign something, but I can barely hold the pen in the right direction.  Before I can do more than mark the page, I feel the sudden need to hug the toilet bowl.  In the bathroom I do just that.  I hug the toilet and hurl scarlet chunks into it while Mistress sits next to me and holds me hair back. 

“You’re so good to me Mistress.”  I smile with specs of red covering my white teeth.

“I know.”  Lisa grimaces, avoiding my breath.  “But this is the very last time you will get to use the toilet.  From tomorrow, you will do your dirty business in the slave bucket.” 

“That’s so hot.”  I mumble, before the urge to retch takes me again.  I love wine, I wish it loved me.

Chapter 8

Codes: Exhibition, Teen, D/s, Slavery, Humiliation, Consensual

It’s late.  Two teenage boys return home from a friend’s house.  They park their bicycles and turn to enter the building.  They stoo dead in their tracks when they see a teenage girl sneak out of the doorway in front of them.   

She is very beautiful, but more noteworthy due to the way she is dressed.  Beneath her long red hair, the boys can make out a spiked black collar circling her thin neck.  Her flawless white skin is covered by a single ragged garment.  Her dress, if you would call it that, seems to be nothing more than an old brown potato sack, with holes cut for her head and arms. 

Barefoot, the red haired girl leaves the apartment building and walks over to the large green wheelie bins arranged along the street.   She hauls two plastic bags with her, each stuffed with garbage.  She tosses the bags into the garbage bin one by one. 

A streetlight near the bins illuminates the stranger further.  Both boys study the short girl’s long athletic legs.  She swings her body to launch each heavy bag.  Fading welts become visible on her upper thighs and across her tight bottom as the motion causes the sack to rise up.  Each boy notes also how the crude arm holes in the sack expose glimpses of a well round breast.  Despite everything, the girl seems cheerful and lively.

While the boys stand dumbfounded, the strange girl finally notices them in the buildigns shadow.  Her cheer fades quickly and she seems to withdraw into herself.  She goes to speak, perhaps to explain her situation, but is unable to manage it.  She lowers her head in shame and races quickly and quietly back into the building.  Her movements are lithe and full of grace, in stark contrast to her self deprecating attire. 

Chapter 9

Codes: F/f, M/f, Exhibition, Teen, D/s, Slavery, Humiliation, Consensual

I dance.  If I ‘m not drunk, you are unlikely to witness it.  As my mother tells it, I was dancing not long after I was walking.  She even enrolled me in a dance group when I was young.  I loved it, but I gave up when I was 13.  At first I made up excuses, then I just stopped going.  I was probably afraid of something, though for the life of me I can’t remember what.  Now I dance just for me, or when my Mistress commands it.

I am dancing now as part of my daily exercise.  It’s also a good way to pass the time.  I whirl and shake across the carpet in front of the television.  My naked body drips with sweat as I push myself.  Mistress has finally given me some clothes to wear, not including the black leather collar I wear at all time.  I’d rather they not stink of sweat, so I dance naked.  My legs sweep high through the air, and I launch myself gracefully about the room.

Mistress is pleased with my cock sucking skills, though I still think I can do better.  Now each day I watch lesbian videos.  Though she still seems to enjoy our love making, I think Mistress would prefer me to be more enthusiastic.  We have not made love in the past few days, so I am actually eager to try out some new techniques. 

It didn’t take long for Mistress to realize she had to ration out my sexual use.  Not for my benefit, but for hers.  She and Master are most in love, but when he can get his dick sucked as readily as he can have me fetch him a beverage, his appetite for love making wanes.  At the end of the day, Mistress enjoys, and often demands, a good fuck from her fiancé.  I was doing a pretty good job of servicing each of them with my mouth, but it is the coupling she needs.  There is some spiritual connection between the two of them that I may never fully understand.

Mistress has also decided I should not come without express permission.  This makes the lonely days longer, but it does ensure I am extra happy when my owners come home.  I have been Mistress Summer’s slave for more than a week now.  I’m not very good at keeping track of time.  The days blur together, and that’s the way I like it.  Technically, I belong to Mistress Summers and Master Lain, but she is the dominant one.  He has always been content to follow her lead, but he is not able (or perhaps willing) to fulfill her need for a truly submissive partner.  I hope I can be everything she needs.

The song I am dancing to ends and I decide to get cleaned up before Mistress comes home.  I walk to the bathroom and retrieve the red bucket from under the sink.  A single pair of full bottomed white cotton panties rest in the bottom.  They are Mistress’ panties from the day before, and I am commanded to clean myself with them.  I fill the bucket with cold water and sit on the tiles next to the small drain.  I lift the soaked panties up to my face and squeeze them.  Cool water runs down my hot face, neck and chest.  Using only the panties, I scrub the sweat from my body.  The used panties are a lousy sponge, but what more do I deserve?  I have a floor to sleep on, leftovers to eat and people who will protect me, maybe even love me.  Finally I dump the buckets contents over my head.  I take one of the bathroom towels and dry my glowing white skin and matted red hair.  Mistress is wise enough to let me use a towel.  The first day of my new life, she came home and found me waiting for her, crisp and clean, but shivering with blue lips from the air conditioned chill. 

When Mistress unlocks and opens the front door, I am waiting obediently in the prescribed place wearing the harem slave outfit Mistress purchased for me.  The costume has long ballooning pants made from a pink, entirely see through, material.  As I kneel with my legs spread wide, the slit that provides easy access to my holes must be quite visible.   I hold my arms behind my back.  The position forces my breasts out for inspection.  The rounded flesh orbs are concealed by a wisp of purple cloth no more substantial than the leggings.  My black slave collar seems out of place with the faux finery. 

I lick my lips and prepare to execute some of the techniques I have been studying.  Mistress smiles down at me warmly.   She kisses me passionately on the lips.  Her tongue invades my mouth.  I close my eyes and pretend I am kissing Olivia Wilde.   I lick and suck on the tongue in my mouth.  Just when it is getting good, Mistress pulls back.   She gives me a single, almost conciliatory, pat on the head and continues past me to the bathroom. 

When I reach the bathroom, Mistress is already stripping out of her work clothes.  I am already naked.  We step into the shower together, and I am ready to begin washing her skin even as she is still adjusting the water temperature.  Mistress doesn’t like hot showers, and I am rarely under the stream of water anyway, as such it is a cold job for me.  Both my owners enjoy my services in this area, though Mistress prefers I wash her, and Master treats me more like a waterproof bath toy.  When she is done showering, I dry Mistress off gently.

Still naked, Mistress sits on the toilet.  She perches on the edge of the seat, and I kneel, between her legs.  I open my mouth and press it against her crotch.  A thin trickle quickly becomes a strong tide, and my mouth fills with hot, horrible, urine.  I struggle to drink the piss as fast as it is forced into my mouth.  Pausing, Mistress hooks two fingers up my nostrils and pulls my head back from her snatch.  By now I know what she wants.  I sit with my mouth open and held high, rolling my tongue around into the pool of golden piss.  There is so much to drink, and by time I finish it feels like I have drunk two or three bottles of water.  My stomach (which thanks to my exercises has become firmer than it has been in years) swells to make room for the human waste.  I use my tongue to clean Mistress’ delicate parts thoroughly.  She pushes me away before I can get creative. 

She makes me sit and watch (and smell) as she relieves herself.  Mistress promised me I would be allowed to use her toilet paper, if I served her in that capacity.  That’s probably the worst deal I have ever heard of, and my aversion of scat made me reject the offer immediately. 

“You told me how you started drinking your own pee during high school, but you never said why.”

I hang my head in shame.  The unique stink fills my nostrils and I am conscious of the amber excrement sloshing around in my belly.  I wish I had not been so open on the night we filled out my slave contract.  Mistress laughs at how quickly I get intoxicated and she tells me I would be a cheap fuck.  

“It was something I could do in my room, late at night, without letting my parents know.”

“But why did you do it?”

I shrug a little, and feel tears well in my eyes.  “Because I didn't work hard enough, and I wasn't brave enough.  I thought I could punish myself and maybe that would make me work, but it didn't.  All it did was relieve some of the guilt I felt about being so worthless.”

“You're not worthless Kylie, you just have different needs to ordinary people.”

Mistress gets up and heads to her bedroom.  I gather up her work clothes and place them in the laundry basket, except for her panties.  The panties replace the set in my slave bucket.  After tidying the bathroom I get dressed and follow Mistress to the bedroom.  The potent air conditioning batters the light material of my harem slave costume.  Mistress sits in front of her computer.  She is wearing comfortable around the house clothes.

Mistress is busy checking her email and is about to begin checking the numerous websites, blogs and forums she tracks.  I know she doesn't like to be disturbed while doing this.  When my entry seems to go unnoticed, I kneel down beside Mistress' chair and strike a sexy subservient pose. 

“What do you want, my little whore?”  Mistress asks when she finally notices me.

Does she have to ask? 

“Mistress... I...”  How do I ask another woman if she would like to have sex with me?

“Oh you want to come is that it?”

“Yes Mistress.”  It’s been two days since I last came.  I have been a chronic masturbator for some time, and a two day dry spell would be uncommon enough, but coupled with my highly sexualized situation, and it seems unthinkable. 

“Well you cannot.  I have a special evening planned and you will just have to wait.  If you would like, you can masturbate on my bed, but if you come you will earn yourself a hard caning. 

When Mistress says a hard caning, it is understood to mean a caning that I will not enjoy.  As I suspected, a light working over with a cane, coupled with much stroking and teasing, is very exciting.  A thorough welt raising beating is admittedly almost as exciting, but the pain is not worth it.

I crawl onto the bed and begin rolling my breasts and stroking my pussy.  If I can't cum, playing with myself is just going to frustrate me more, but it is still a nice distraction.  I have heard my owners talking about when they intend to pop my cherry.  Apparently, Mistress wants the honor for herself and I have been told to expect a long hard fuck just as soon as she purchases a strap on.  I sink fingers into my slit as I think about getting torn open by a plastic cock.  Being fucked thusly by another woman just seems so scandalous.

I lay on the soft bed for more than an hour, playing with myself and keeping my body in a state of desperate need.  Distracted by her online activities, Mistress is nonetheless amused by my shameful antics.  I am riding the cradle of Mistress' large L shaped pillow, rutting my moist gash back and forth across the lace edge-work like a bitch in heat.   My arms wrap around one end of the pillow and I embrace it like a lover.

“No welcome for me today?”  Michael asks as he strokes the small of my back.  The unexpected sensation forces me to press harder against the pillow. 

“I'm sorry.”  I apologize breathlessly.  “I didn't notice the time.”

“You're busy.  No don't get up.  Keep fucking that pillow.”  Michael says as he searches through the bag he carries.  I hope I haven't missed an opportunity to suck his cock. 

“You brought it?”  Lisa asks him.

“Yes.”  

I look around to see what they are talking about.  I must look a sight with my face and breasts flushed rosy pink and my breathing heavy.

“Come with my Kylie.”  Mistress commands.  She stands and holds a hand out towards me. 

“Yes Mistress.”

I take her hand and she helps me rise from the bed.  She leads me from the bedroom to the bathroom.   I wonder what's in store for me now.

“We need to get you ready.”

“Mistress?  Ready for what?”

“Kneel down in front of the toilet.”

Surely she can't want to pee in my mouth again?  I can still feel her piss sloshing around inside me. 

Lisa walks over to the bathroom sink and begins unpacking items from a dusty makeup kit hiding in the overhead cabinet.  She sets the items down about me, and then sits on the toilet.  Mistress instructs me to finger myself while she applies my makeup.  She also orders me to hold still.  I struggle to comply with both demands.  The fingers on my left hand slide between my engorged sex lips, while I tweak my nipples, hard, with my right hand.  Immediately it becomes apparent to me that Mistress intends to do a thorough job.  I have never used much makeup before, but Lisa seems quite proficient.  My knees hurt from kneeling on the tiles long before we finish. 

When finally we leave the bathroom, I find Master sitting down on the couch with the remote in one hand.  By his other hand rests a slim black camcorder, and he is completely naked.  He looks up from the television as we enter the room.  I notice how his hands slide towards his crotch and try to hide his nakedness.  His eyes widen as he studies his freshly pimped slave girl.

Mistress tweezed my eyebrows, darkened my eyelashes and applied a generous cover of mascara.  Flicking my tongue gently across the top of my lower lip, I can taste the new red lipstick. I turn my hand over and look down at my nails.  Mistress decided to paint them, and my toenails, black.  Coupled with the eye shadow, my choker and my naturally pale skin, it gives me a distinctly gothic look.

Master looks me up and down appraisingly.  I can tell he approves, and his subconscious efforts to hide his nakedness become even feebler. 

“I like what you have done with her.”

“Thank you.”  Mistress smiles and places a kiss on my cheek.  “I'm thinking of keeping her this way.  I think it suits her pouty bitch nature.” 

I have been attracted to the Goth look (in girls only) for some time now.  My mother would never have let me out of the house dresses like this (well certainly not naked!), and I never experimented behind her back.

“Are you pleased with your new look, whore?”  Mistress asks me. 

“Yes Mistress.”

“Very good pet.”  She gives me a short sharp smack on my puffy sex.

I look nervously at the camera resting on the couch.  “Mistress?  What are we doing?”

“You are going to give your Master a nice sloppy blowjob,” Lisa picks up the camcorder and flicks the view screen open.  “and I will record your efforts.”

The reality of the camera makes me hook my fingers together in front of my exposed pussy.  “Mistress, I don't think I can do this.”

“You said you were comfortable with this when we talked.”

I didn't remember much of that night, so I was in no position to correct her.  Honestly the idea of being filmed giving a blowjob is exciting, but think of all the people who may one day see it.

“Lisa, I don't think...”

A vicious slap silences me. 

“That's right bitch.  You don't think.  You suck cocks and lick cunts.  I know you are up for this, and I don't have time for the shy act.  Get on your knees and start sucking cock now or I will cane your sexy ass blue.”

Her encouragement is enough to get me on my knees between my Master's legs. 

“Mistress, shouldn't I wear a mask, or something?”  I look up at her hopefully.

“I want people to see you, pet.  We intend to post all your videos on the Internet.”

ALL my videos?  “But Mistress, our friends could see me like this.” 

Lisa laughs out loud.  “Oh Kylie, you are such an idiot.  We have already sent pictures of you to pretty much everyone we know.  All of our friends know about your new living arrangements.   The guys have been bugging us to make a video for a week now.”

Was she telling the truth?  Of course she was; she had no reason to lie.  How could I ever face my friends again?  They consider Michael and Lisa pretty low on the social totem pole, so where did that leave me?  On my knees I guess.

“What do you want me to do?”  I ask; resigned to lie in the bed I have made.

“You have watched enough pornstars give head.  I want you to tease his cock for awhile, show off some of your tricks and then suck down a yummy load of slut milk.”

The camera begins running.  I try to block it out.  I place my hands on Master's thighs and bring my red lips down to the tip of his cock.  I’ve never done this with lipstick on, it’s different.  With my lips touching the fat cock head, I circle my tongue around it.  I roll down his foreskin further, and work my tongue around the delicate purple ridge.  It would have been better (for me) if he had washed his penis before we started.  I have no right to complain.  Mistress has gone to a lot of effort and I must do my best.

I ration out the time I can spend on each step, taking the best estimate of how long Master can hold his load.  Like a dance I begin stringing together individual steps, all leading towards a very literal climax.    I stiffen my tongue and stroke the cock up and down it, pleasuring its underside and the little notch. 

When I feel Michael is too far along, I leave his pink bud alone and lick my way down the shaft of his rod.  I plant little lipstick kisses on his shaft before tonguing his sweaty shaven scrotum.  The camera is right in my face as I take one of his balls into my mouth and suck on it.  Anyone who sees this will understand what a whore I am. 

When I return to working on the tip of the penis, I purse my lips together and use the thick member to fuck my mouth.  I press my head onto the cock until it parts my lips, then I draw back.  My lips are forced wide to accommodate my Master's ample dick. 

I am forced to skip a few more tricks lest Michael come before I demonstrate my deepthoating.   I press his meat against the back of my mouth and compose myself.  I will not choke.  I can do this.  Slowly at first, I press my head down.  I let the beast slip into my wind pipe and force more of it inside me.  Like magic, inch after inch of the cock disappears into my little mouth.  My lung capacity has never been great, asthma as a child maybe.  I pull the cock from my mouth, and ignore the slobber I leak onto my breasts.  My success drives me on, and I continue to deep throat my Master's cock.

Finally, I hear the signs of an oncoming orgasm and go to pull the prick from my throat.  My Master has over ideas.  He takes hold of the back of my skull and holds me.  He even manages to pull me further down his shaft.  I have enough air, but the fear begins to cause a panic within me.  Despite my feeble struggles, he will not be denied this.  His cum fills my throat and at last I gag.  

By time I pull my head free, my eyes are streaming tears.  I suck down the cum blocking my airways.  Small splutters of spit and cum fly from my mouth.  My panic fades and I rest my head on my Master’s thigh.  Mistress pats me gently on the head.  I rest while she shows Master the quality of the video.

“Ok whore, it’s my turn now.”

I look up and see my Mistress lounging sideway on the couch.  Her legs are spread wide, exposing her wet pussy.  She was clearly excited, and the look on her face was one of absolute, unmitigated victory.  She thinks she has caught me, and that she has me right where she wants me.  If it makes her happy, I won’t spoil it for her, but as I breathe in the strong smelling cum staining my lips, I know I am right where I want to be.