"I don't think I want to," said Jenny. "Maybe some slaves get trained for orgies and others for just ordinary sex."
"That's possible, I suppose. Not to change the subject, but what has your day been like?"
"What?" asked Jenny a bit incredulously. "I'm a slave, what do you think its been like?"
"I know that," said Janet gently. "I'm just trying to be as normal as possible. You know, regular conversation, like we weren't slaves. We should try doing things like that to remind ourselves that one day we won't be slaves."
Again that damned optimism, said Jenny to herself. "Janet, we can't really have a normal conversation about what we do because what we do isn't normal. Normal is talking about having my nails done and trying to decide on the right nail polish, normal is wondering what my hair would look like with a little blond streaking, normal is picking just the right blouse to go with a new skirt. Sucking dick all day is not normal, and talking about it isn't normal either."
Janet had already gone through, with herself, the discussion of what was normal and what was not. She agreed with Jenny, of course, that sex all day was not normal for most girls. However, she had not considered things in quite the same way as Jenny just had. More importantly, her master's cane played a large part in Janet's conclusions concerning what was normal. Janet didn't get the feeling that Jenny was whining but she did think Jenny, with all her talk about nail polish, hair streaking, and blouses, was looking backward rather than forward. She wouldn't wish a caning on anyone, but she was sure that Jenny would stop thinking about her former life in high school if Jenny's master caned her.
"It's all we've got, Jenny. We either talk about that or philosophy or art or something, and I don't really know much about that stuff."
"Well, what about your family? What are they like?"
"I don't want to look backward. I don't want to get all caught up in that gawd-I-wish-I-were-back-home kind of thinking. Besides, by talking about what we're doing now, we might help each other out. So come on, I don't want a blow-by-blow description of your day. Just what's going on."
Jenny took a deep breath. She could never tell Janet about the agreement she had made with her master that morning, so she mentioned her current big fear. "My master has a huge dick and he wants me to swallow him and I just can't do that."
"My master's pretty big, too, and I had some trouble with that at first. The first day I couldn't get him down my throat, he caned me. Next time, same thing. It didn't take long before I decided to get him down my throat."
"Your master canes you? I mean, for things like that?"
"My master caned me every day the first week I was here. It stings like crazy. Fortunately I've managed to keep him happy the last several days, but I always get the feeling I'm just a minute away from getting my ass beat. You mean you haven't swallowed your master's dick yet and he hasn't caned you?"
Jenny could hardly believe it. Her master must be so different from Janet's master. Jenny thought back two days to the older slave who told Jenny that her master was one of the best at DiMarcos. "No," said Jenny, "but he brought those canes and that strap today. I guess he'll be caning me soon."
Just then the escort came in to take the slaves to lunch. "All right, you two, leash up and let's go."
It was at least an hour after Jenny got back from lunch before she received her third customer. She could hear footsteps outside her room, so she assumed the sitting position before her customer walked in.
"Jenny," said a familiar male voice, and Jenny looked up to see Mark, her boyfriend of the last six months. Not good, said Jenny to herself, whatever happens next will not be good.
"Jenny, I've been trying to get to see you since yesterday. At first the escorts wouldn't tell me what room you were in. Jesus, Jenny, why'd you have to go and do this?"
"I wasn't planning on becoming a slave, sir," said Jenny.
"Don't call me sir," said Mark, with a little pain in his voice. He got the chair from outside. "Here, sit down."
"I'm not allowed to sit in the chair. I will get punished if I do. And I have to call you sir."
"Well, don't you have to do what you're told?" asked Mark.
"Yes, sir," replied Jenny.
"Then I'm telling you to call me Mark."
Jenny was sure this was breaking some rule, written or unwritten, but she decided to obey. "OK," she paused, "Mark."
"Jenny, were you trying to get away from me or something? I mean, did you become a slave just to break up with me?"
Jenny couldn't believe that Mark was personalizing her slavery. No girl would ever become a slave to get away from her boyfriend.
"No, Mark, it had nothing to do with you. I just gambled and lost, that's all."
"Oh, well, I'm glad to hear that. I mean, not glad that you lost. You know what I mean. Isn't there some way for you to get out of here? Can't your dad buy you back or something?"
"No, Mark, there is no way out," and she marveled that she was having to explain the obvious to him. "I'll be here for another three years."
"Holy shit, then Alicia was right. You really are a slave."
"Yes, I'm really a slave," and she thought again about her promise to her master that morning.
"Damn, Jenny, I'm really sorry. If there was any way I could get you out of here I would. Is there, like, a way to escape, I mean that you've heard about?"
Jenny had no idea where her quarters were located in DiMarcos' complex and no idea where she would go if she left her room and tried to escape. Besides, the moment she left her room she knew her yellow collar would immediately get her in trouble.
"No, Mark, I don't think there is a way to escape."
"Yeah, it kind of looked that way. I must've gone through five different doors and hallways before I got to the big room that has the new slaves, I mean girls. I just can't call you a slave, Jenny."
Why not? Jenny asked herself. I really am a slave. I gave away my freedom this morning.
Mark's voice got a little softer. "Jenny, I've really missed you."
Jenny at first did not understand.
"I mean, I haven't seen you in a week, almost. You know what I mean. It's hard to lose your girlfriend all of a sudden."
Jenny looked up at Mark briefly, then caught his meaning. He wanted sex. It hurt her that when Mark said he missed her he meant that he missed her blow jobs, but then she knew boys pretty well. Her master had been right when he told her that there was only one reason that a man would visit her.
"Well," said Jenny struggling very hard to sound sexy, "why don't you take your clothes off?"
Once Mark did have his clothes off, he was like any other customer. Almost. Jenny noticed, perhaps for the first time, that he had a small dick, much smaller than her master's and smaller than most of her customers. He was long enough to get to the back of her mouth and just a bit further. She started off, as she did with all customers, stroking his dick a few times, then licking his balls. Mark was very surprised.
"You never did that before, Jenny," he said. "Why didn't you ever do that to me before?"
Jenny stopped to answer. "Because before I wasn't a slave," and she resumed licking.
"Damn," said Mark, "it really feels good."
Wonderful, said Jenny to herself, now I'll have to do it for fifteen minutes.
She was wrong. Less than a minute later, Mark asked her how long it would be before she went back to regular sex, as he called it.
Right now, said Jenny to herself, and she started stroking. She found that getting Mark to the back of her mouth was relatively easy and she decided that she would try to get him all the way into her mouth. She finally got up the courage and forced herself down on Mark as far as she could go. She felt the head of Mark's dick pop down her throat and then she gagged. She pulled herself completely off him a coughed a few times.
"Gee, Jenny, you never did that before either. It feels incredible," said Mark, completely ignoring her discomfort.
She started in on him aga
in, thinking that she had nearly done what her master asked. Just two or three more times, and she could say, truthfully, that she had swallowed a man's dick – well, almost a man. The second time she gagged again, but didn't cough, and the third time she only gagged a little. The unfortunate part, from Jenny's point of view, was that Mark was going nuts.
"Oh, gawd, damn, Jenny, oh that feels great, keep doing that, don't stop."
She had never heard Mark talk that way during sex. Also, she had no choice but to keep taking him down her throat. Maybe this is the best way to get a guy to cum, she said to herself. She had to refine her definition of best when Mark came down her throat. Now she really did gag and cough and sputter. Getting used to cum down her throat would be worse than getting used to a dick down her throat, she said to herself.
Mark was nearly oblivious to her trouble. All he could say was how great it felt, how much he loved it, how sexy Jenny was, how sorry he was that she was in DiMarcos and not outside.
Right, said Jenny to herself, then your blow jobs would be free. Boys, guys, men. Her master was right. All any male wants is a great blow job.
After the blow job, Mark asked Jenny to lie down. It didn't bother Jenny that Mark wanted to have sex, even though all her previous customers had known she was only a blow job slave, but it did bother her that he wanted to lie on top of her. That wasn't the way a man had sex with a slave, she said to herself. At first she hesitated, then asked herself why she hesitated. He can have what he wants, she said to herself, and she spread herself out on the blankets.
Mark felt very small inside her, after her master, and she tried squeezing him, mostly to get him to cum so he would leave. He liked that treatment as much as having his dick swallowed. Christ, said Jenny to herself, now he'll be a regular customer. I don't want him coming around every day telling me how much he misses me. Mark did, in fact, think Jenny was worth visiting again. As he put on his clothes, he again told her how sorry he was that she was working for DiMarcos (right, said Jenny) and that he would tell Jenny's mother and father that she was all right.
"Thanks, Mark," she said as he walked out. Great, she thought. Tell mom and dad I'm fine. I'm just a happy little slave, sucking dick all day. She curled up on her blankets and thought about how much fun life would now be with daily visits from Mark. She also thought about her agreement to obey her master and whether, by swallowing Mark's dick, she had fulfilled her promise to get a man completely in her mouth.
It was only about fifteen minutes after Mark left that she heard footsteps again. Get ready, she said to herself, and sat up on her blankets.
"Hi, Jenny," said a familiar voice that was barely audible but still recognizable. Jenny didn't have to look up to know it was Eric Schubner. "I couldn't believe it when Alicia called me and told me you were at DiMarcos. But now I can see it's true." He wanted to say he could see everything, and that everything was beautiful.
That bitch Alicia, thought Jenny. It was OK for Alicia to tell Mark where Jenny was. After all, most boys would like to know why their girlfriend suddenly disappeared. But why did Alicia have to call Eric? Jenny knew Alicia had about one hundred boys on speed dial, but she was pretty sure Eric wasn't one of them.
Eric Schubner had first seen Jenny nearly two years ago when they both began high school. He immediately fell deeply in love. To Eric, Jenny wasn't just the perfect girl, she was perfection itself. He worshipped her. He asked her out several times. Twice he wrote her a long, sentimental love letter, telling her in so many words (and there were many) why he loved her, why they would be great together, why he would give the world to be with her. Jenny never doubted his sincerity, but was never interested in dating him. He wasn't a dork or a nerd, but he wasn't very good looking either. He seemed, to Jenny, like lots of guys at her school, OK to say "Hi" to but nothing more than that. That is not to say that Jenny was a snob, but she knew she was attractive and knew she could date nearly any guy she wanted. Eric had never made it on Jenny's radar screen.
Eric, of course, was saddened that Jenny was a slave. Once he saw her, though, he was able to put aside his grief. "Jenny," he said as he fetched the chair, "please, sit down here." Jenny had to explain to Eric, as she had to Mark, that the chair was not for her. "Oh, well, OK," said Eric. "Do you mind if I sit down?"
Jenny almost laughed out loud. In two or three minutes he'd be telling her to blow him. Why ask to sit down? "Yes, sir, please sit down," she said.
"C'mon Jenny, don't call me sir. Call me Eric, OK?"
"Yes, Eric," she said. She didn't want to go through the same rigmarole that she had gone through with Mark.
"Gosh, Jenny, you're even more beautiful than I thought you'd be. I mean, I always thought you'd be beautiful, that is, uh, well, you know, sometimes you just know a girl is going to be really beautiful no ... matter ... I mean all the time." Eric still thought of Jenny as the beautiful girl he wanted so much but would probably never have. If Jenny at that moment had scolded him for staring at her and told him to leave, he probably would have.
Jenny, though, was thinking only of the horrible position she was in. Eric, a boy she had snubbed for two years, could now have anything he wanted from her. Having sex with Mark or, more precisely, being a slave for Mark had been one thing. She and Mark were the same type or, as Jenny had thought in her more romantic moments, kindred spirits. On the other hand, Jenny and Eric had nothing more in common than that they attended the same school.
At school she was part of a group which could best be described as a clique, though Jenny and her friends never intended to form a clique. Indeed, a clique at a high school owes its status to how highly it is esteemed by others, not by how highly it esteems itself. But since boys nearly always hold attractive girls in high esteem, Jenny and her friends had acquired a rather exalted status. The only benefit, if it could be called that, which accrued from this status was that Jenny and her friends sat atop the unwritten high school social register. In practical terms, this meant that Jenny and her friends were rarely approached by students who lacked confidence or students who considered themselves to be of a lesser social station.
Eric Schubner, though he never felt himself to be Jenny's social equal, had been sufficiently emboldened by desire to approach Jenny several times. He had even asked her out in the presence of her friends. Jenny, on these occasions, had to perform a difficult balancing act. She had to decline Eric's invitations firmly enough to demonstrate to her friends that she would never, ever consider going on a date with him. At the same time, she had to avoid scorning him so thoroughly as to appear unkind. She was not motivated by sensitivity to Eric's feelings as much as she was by her desire to appear nice. Besides, there was always the possibility that a boy's resentment over rejection might turn violent. Thus the relative social position of the two teenagers had been firmly, and too all appearances, irrevocably established during their first two years of high school.
Jenny's enslavement had not changed Eric's position, but it was now laughable even to ask about hers. It wasn't that the social status of slaves was thought to be lower than non-slaves. Rather, most people would say that slaves had no status at all.
Jenny was now experiencing her loss of status on a very emotional level. Put simply, she was completely humiliated and the fact that this humiliation was taking place in her little room, out of public view, didn't make her feel any better. As far as Jenny was concerned, it couldn't have been worse if she had been compelled to strip and submit to Eric in the cafeteria at lunch time. She could even hear her friends, especially Alicia, giggling softly as she sat in front of Eric awaiting his first command. She wouldn't have to fashion carefully considered answers to Eric's questions. She merely had to say "Yes, sir," and do what she was told. Rather than feeling the support of her little clique, they were serving as witnesses to her loss of membership in that clique. Just a month ago Jenny had barely acknowledged Eric's existence when he said hello to her at school, as he did every day, and now she was going to have sex wi
th him. She was not only going to have sex with him, she was going to have sex with him just the way he wanted.
"Thanks, Eric," and to Eric it sounded like she appreciated having him tell her she looked good naked.
"Jenny," he said quietly, "I know you never liked me very much, but I want you to know I still love you, just like I always have. There just couldn't be a more wonderful girl than you."
Sure, sure, sure, said Jenny to herself. So now you're going to ask me to marry you, right? No? Maybe ask me out for a date? No? Maybe something else? Despite her cynicism, though, Jenny could tell that Eric was sincere.
"It's very nice of you to say so, Eric," she said, without betraying what she was thinking.
"No, Jenny, I mean it. Believe me, I didn't come here to take advantage of you." Eric wanted to have sex with Jenny in the worst way, but he was having difficulty making the change from being the snubbed boy to being the boy in charge.
Jenny was touched. So she could send him away if she wanted. He'd be back, of course, and he'd keep coming back. But today, if she wanted to, she could send him away. Yet she hesitated to do what three days ago she would have done without a second thought. This wasn't Eric and Jenny passing each other in the hall at school, it wasn't Eric and Jenny bumping into each other at the mall, it was Eric, a free boy who would soon walk out of DiMarcos, and Jenny, a slave who wouldn't take a free breath for three years. She wanted him to leave, but she did not want to be the one to tell him so.
"I understand, Eric," she said, by which she hoped Eric would take a hint, a hint she wasn't even giving him.
"If it's OK with you, I'd like to stay for a little while, Jenny. I mean, is that OK with you?"
"Yes," she said, "it's OK." Jenny had seen her chance and let it slip away. Now, sooner or later, she knew what was coming.
Eric, when he heard her reply, fairly leapt through his skin. His dick had been hard since he had set out for DiMarcos and had only gotten harder since had walked into Jenny's room. Now he knew he was actually going to have sex with Jenny Marsten. His heart was pounding wildly.
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