"Um, is it OK if I take off some of my clothes?" he asked almost shyly.
"Yes, Eric, it's OK." Jenny didn't know whether to feel contempt or pity.
Eric, in his intense excitement, fumbled two minutes with buttons, belt, and shoelaces before getting his clothes off. When he sat down in the chair again, anxious and expectant, Jenny was startled to see that he had a very large dick. Eric was certainly not as large as Jenny's master, but she could not think of another man who was larger than Eric.
Since the only way for Jenny to get Eric out of her room was to have sex with him, Jenny began where she did with all her customers. She stroked his dick with her mouth a few times – though she certainly didn't have to do that to get him hard – then began licking his balls. Eric had no idea that this was normal and was in heaven when Jenny got his rather large balls in her mouth. He would have been happy the rest of his life if Jenny had licked him for only a minute. After five minutes, he thought Jenny was not only the most beautiful girl in world, not only the girl he was justifiably in love with, but also the sexiest girl in the world. Since he didn't think of himself as being in control of the situation, he let Jenny go on and on. Jenny also misunderstood what was happening. She thought he was one of those guys who really liked having his balls licked. This, she thought, is going from very bad to terrible. After twenty minutes, she decided to simply stop licking and start sucking his cock. If he told her to go back to licking him, she would. Maybe, though, he would let her go on.
Eric, still clueless, was as happy as it is safe for a boy to be. If I had known she was this good, he told himself, I would have robbed every bank in the state for her. Jenny was stroking his cock deeply into her mouth, something that by now was normal for her, and even thinking about trying to get Eric down her throat. She tried to think of Gary and the picnic table, but Eric's was not the dick Jenny was ready to swallow. It hardly mattered anyway. Eric came in her mouth only three minutes after she began sucking him. It was the messiest orgasm Jenny could ever remember. Cum roared out of Eric's dick like water from a fire hose. Jenny was helpless. As she tried to swallow what was in her mouth, Eric replaced it faster than she could swallow. First her chin, then her neck, and finally her chest became coated with Eric's semen.
Now Jenny was certainly not immune to masculinity. More than once she had been carried away by the feel of hard shoulders above her and a forceful dick inside her. There were some things she considered, instinctively, to be very masculine. One was the amount that a man could cum. Jenny was not ready to reconsider her feelings for Eric, not ready to say that perhaps she should have dated him in high school, but she was ready to admit that Eric was a boy she couldn't completely ignore. After Eric had emptied himself in, and on, her, she ran into the bathroom to clean herself off. Had it been anyone else, she would not have done this, but she wasn't ready to let Eric see her while she was covered with his cum.
Eric had just had the greatest sexual experience of his life. That the girl he loved ran off to the bathroom after his orgasm didn't bother him. He was overcome with ecstasy. She's wonderful, he said to himself. Beyond wonderful.
When Jenny returned and sat in front of Eric, she wasn't sure what to expect. She simply waited for Eric to speak. When Eric looked down at his beloved, kneeling in front of him, he felt the confidence that only an orgasm can bring. "Jenny," he said gently, "I can't tell you how much I love you. Please, let me make love to you. I promise I'll stop as soon as you tell me too."
Jenny knew that "make love" meant she should lie on her back. So for the second time that day, a boy climbed on top of her. Eric, though, was nothing like Mark. He had Jenny groaning, quietly and against her will, almost from the moment he began.
He stroked her slowly, gently, and deeply. When Jenny brushed her hand against him she felt his hard, tensed shoulders. I don't care how nice his shoulders are, she said to herself, it's still Eric. She tried to forget that it was Eric by imagining that she with somebody, anybody else.
Eric took his time inside Jenny, convinced that no male ever was, or ever could be, as happy as he was. He imagined that Jenny was enjoying herself. Devoted to her as he was, the only thing that could make him happier than having sex with her was knowing that she was enjoying it. If only, and he blamed himself for it, if only she had known a week ago. Finally, after many blissful minutes, he felt himself approaching an orgasm. "It doesn't hurt, does it?" he asked Jenny as he began thrusting harder and deeper.
"No," said Jenny, "it's fine," just at the moment that Eric managed to make her gasp a little. She lied when she said it didn't hurt. She wouldn't say so to Eric because that would just make him gush all over her, but she also didn't say it hurt because she couldn't decide just how it hurt. It wasn't like getting her finger caught in a door or being burned by a match. It was a strange kind of pain because, partly, it wasn't painful at all.
He came inside her and Jenny, for one of the few times in her life, could feel that the boy inside her had had an orgasm. Gawd, she thought, he came just as much this time as the first time. This second orgasm for Eric was just as exquisite as the first, only more meaningful. That's where a man should have an orgasm when he's with his girlfriend, he said to himself. It was all so perfect and so wonderful that Eric did not want to take his dick out of Jenny. It's where I belong, he said to himself, where I've always wanted to be, and he lay on top Jenny, slowly moving in and out of her.
Jenny had to let him lie on her. She couldn't tell him to stop, nor could she bring herself to sweetly suggest that he do something else. Then she thought she heard footsteps outside her room.
"Hey, buddy, time's up," she heard an escort say. "You've been in here for over an hour."
It took Eric a moment to rouse himself. He was none to happy at being interrupted, but he was momentarily distracted when he saw a beautiful blond on a leash. The blond was sitting on the floor just a few feet away from where Eric and Jenny were lying. She quickly glanced away when their eyes met. When Eric sat up, Janet could see from his profile that Jenny had just finished having sex with a boy with a very large dick, perhaps as big as Janet's master's. Eric, once he recovered his senses, got a little embarrassed. Hovering above one beautiful girl with whom he had just had sex while staring at an equally beautiful, not to mention naked, girl was a new experience for him. After gazing at Janet for a moment, he went into the bathroom, cleaned himself up, dressed, and left.
Jenny was embarrassed herself because Eric had made her very messy. She had to wait while Eric used the bathroom, and she was sure that the escort and Janet could see the residue of Eric's presence inside her. As soon as Eric and the escort left, Jenny was in the bathroom herself. Janet was not far behind her.
"Was that your boyfriend, Jenny?" she asked.
"No, that was not my boyfriend," Jenny answered a bit angrily. Just having Janet near the opening to the bathroom while she tried to wipe herself off made Jenny uncomfortable.
"I didn't mean to offend you or anything," said Janet. "I just thought the way he was making love to you that he was probably a guy you were going out with. Jenny, you know I wasn't trying to see what you were doing. I have to follow the escort."
Jenny realized that Janet was right, but she still thought it wasn't necessary for Janet to ask whether Eric was her boyfriend. "I know," said Jenny a bit apologetically, "but I've never had a man and a woman walk in on me when a guy was screwing me."
"I understand," said Janet. "Still, it looked like you were having a good time."
"If you like," said Jenny breezily, "when he comes to see me tomorrow I'll tell him you're interested in him."
"I'm not interested in him," said Janet in a lowered voice. She realized that she had been a bit too forward. "I'm sorry, Jenny. It's just that, you know, you and that guy are the closest thing I've seen to real life in the last two weeks. Really, you two looked very romantic. I think it's pretty amazing that you can get yourself into something like that after being here only two days." Janet
didn't sound angry or jealous.
Jenny took Janet's hand and squeezed it a little. "Janet, it wasn't at all what it looked like. He's a boy that's been after me for two years. He's in love with me. He had all the fun. He had so much fun that I'm sure he'll be back – and back, and back, and back." Jenny let go of Janet's hand and sat down on the floor. "Now I have to deal with two boys: one who claims he's my boyfriend, but who really only wants sex; another who's in love with me but doesn't realize how ridiculous it is to be in love with a slave."
Janet herself had gone through the difficulty of dealing with a former boyfriend. She had not, however, had to deal with any boy who said he was in love with her. Janet could certainly inspire lust, but she was too beautiful to inspire true love.
"So what are you gonna do, Jenny?" and Janet sounded faintly like a parent asking a teenager how she intended to get out of the latest mess in which she found herself.
"What do you mean, what am I going to do? How can I do anything? It's not like I can call a guy on the phone and tell him I don't want to see him any more. What do you do when a customer is a guy you know?"
"Well, I do what he wants," said Janet rather coolly, "but all he ever wants is sex. I mean, I don't get emotionally involved or anything like that. The first time my ex-boyfriend came to see me was definitely a downer, but I'm over him."
"There's no problem with me getting over him," said Jenny without any conviction in her voice. "The problem is him getting over me."
"It looked to me like you were both having a good time," said Janet, again treading on dangerous ground.
"Listen," said Jenny, "I really don't want to talk about him any more."
Janet smirked to herself. That simply meant it would take Jenny at least an hour to say everything she wanted to say. Janet was ready to change the subject, but just then the escort came in and led the slaves away to dinner.
CHAPTER VII
Jenny had had only four customers prior to dinner, but since BB's only worked until the late afternoon she knew she was done for the day. That is, she was done as far as customers were concerned. After dinner she knew she would be entertaining her master.
It was about an hour after dinner that he walked into her room. He took off his clothes as though he were a customer who would have Jenny for only an hour. When he sat down in front of her, though, he asked whether there was anything she wanted to talk about. Jenny had been mulling over the agreement she had made with her master and her encounter with Eric. She didn't think anything worthwhile would come from discussing either of those topics, so she simply replied, "No, master."
"What about your customers?" asked Maurice. "What happened with them today?"
Jenny didn't understand that her master was asking whether she had been able to get any of her customers entirely in he mouth. "Two of my customers were boys from my high school, master," she said.
Since all Maurice's previous slaves, save one, had been prisoners, he did not have much experience with his slaves being visited by former friends or lovers. The slaves at DiMarcos who were felons were usually purchased from prisons hundreds of miles away. Their former boyfriends rarely bothered to seek them out once they became slaves. Jenny's situation was unusual, and Maurice was naturally curious about her two visitors.
"Two of your boyfriends visited you?" Maurice thought it best not to call them former boyfriends.
"One was a boyfriend, the other was just a..." Jenny didn't know what to call Eric, "a guy I knew, master."
"And what was that like?" asked Maurice.
"It was awful," replied Jenny impulsively, "master." She wanted to take her words back as soon as she had uttered them.
"Why?" asked Maurice. "What did your boyfriend do that was so awful?"
"It wasn't him so much, master," answered Jenny, wanting to avoid discussing the subject altogether.
"Well then it was the other boy. What did he do?"
"Nothing, really, master."
"You just said it was awful. If he did nothing, why was it awful?"
Jenny didn't want to talk about her difficulties with Eric but she had to say something to satisfy her master. "He's a boy who's been chasing me the last two years, but I never went out with him, master."
"Ohhhhhh, I see," said Maurice. He had been in master-slave relationships so long that it took him a moment to recall the difficulties people had in normal relationships. Jenny's description of Eric reminded Maurice of himself when he was in high school. Like nearly every high school boy, he had a wild crush on a girl who hardly acknowledged his existence. Maurice had fantasized about her throughout high school. It had never occurred to him what it would have been like had she become a slave, but he could now easily imagine it.
"Today, that boy ... what's his name?" Maurice interrupted himself with the question.
"Eric, master."
"If Eric's been after you for two years, today was the best day of his life. I promise you, he's now the happiest guy on earth."
Great, said Jenny to herself, just great.
Maurice's interest in Jenny's encounter with Eric was heightened considerably by his own high school experience. He wanted to hear some details. "Do you think he had a good time? I mean, did he seem to be having a better time than your other customers?"
"Yes, master," said Jenny, cringing at the turn in the conversation.
"Did you enjoy it?" Maurice was thinking that anything Eric enjoyed so much must also have been some fun for Jenny.
Jenny could tell from the eagerness in her master's voice what answer he wanted to hear. "Yes, master, a little," she said.
"Did you get all of him in your mouth?"
"No, master, he is very big," said Jenny, and she tried to emphasize the "very" without sounding like she was exaggerating.
"Did you screw?"
"Yes, master."
"And did you have an orgasm?"
"No, master," Jenny said indignantly. The thought of having an orgasm while Eric was screwing her was totally unacceptable.
"Jenny," and for the first time that Jenny could remember he addressed her by name, "you don't like him, do you? You can tell me the truth."
"No, master," she said with complete truthfulness.
"Do you remember this morning that I told you being a slave wouldn't be easy at first, but that I could help you make it as easy as possible?"
"Yes, master."
"There is something that you can do that may be very difficult for you now, but will make your life much easier later on. You can probably guess what it is, can't you?"
Oh, gawd, said Jenny to herself. She could guess.
"Tell me what it is," said Maurice quietly.
"I should do whatever Eric wants," said Jenny, trying to avoid her master's suggestion.
"Well," said Maurice, "you would have to do that in any case. I can tell you won't like my advice, but listen anyway. If Eric visits you again, let yourself go completely. Be the sexiest girl you know how to be. Get all of him in your mouth, and be passionate about it. Have an orgasm when he makes love to you. Do everything you can to enjoy yourself, and make sure he knows it when you do. I don't know how difficult that will be for you, but if you can do it you'll eliminate ninety percent of your potential problems here. You don't have to promise me you'll do it. Just promise to think about it, OK?"
"Yes, master," was the only answer Jenny could give. She didn't have a chance to consider his request at that moment because her master, by motioning with his forefinger, told her to give him a blow job. Her mind was not on her task, though. That didn't bother Maurice. What she thought about Eric was far more important than what she did to him that evening. Maurice did, however, make Jenny blow him until he had an orgasm, and he could see why Eric liked her so much.
Maurice was about to leave when he stopped and handed Jenny two small plastic disks. Each was about three inches in diameter, and each had a cone-shaped piece attached to one side. One of the cones was about three inches high, the other ab
out five inches high. "Stick that up your ass before you go to bed tonight," he said, pointing to the disk with the smaller cone. "It will loosen you up a bit. In a few days, try the other one. Anal sex will still hurt a little, but these will make it bearable."
"Thank you, master," Jenny felt compelled to say. How thoughtful, she said to herself. Before he breaks me in two by sticking his dick up my ass, he's giving me something that will prepare me for it. It's kind of like school, only this is sex school. Here, a girl can learn something really valuable like how to get a man's dick up her ass.
Once her master had left, Jenny lay down on her blankets and began contemplating her master's latest suggestion. What kind of a girl could enjoy having sex with a man simply because she had been told to enjoy it? Jenny asked herself. At first she answered, "A slave, of course," but then, upon reflection, she had to discard her answer. Slavery was a condition, not a trait. That morning, she had agreed to submit to the condition of slavery. She understood at the time that she was abandoning her freedom, but she hadn't time to think what that really meant. Now she was confronted with a specific request which, if obeyed, would certainly be considered an abandonment of her personal freedom. The problem was that what her master asked was much more than simply giving up her freedom. He was asking her to become an entirely different person. Jenny Marsten simply could not tell herself to enjoy sex with a guy, and then do it. I'd have to be a nymph or a sex maniac, or worse, she told herself. (Even late in the twenty-first century, any girl who liked sex too much was considered abnormal.) If I obey this command, the world can say goodbye to the Jenny that lost her solitaire game the other day. Jenny had realized all along, if only subconsciously, that slavery would change her. Now she understood just how drastic that change might be. How can I give in to this? she asked herself, but there was a more important question, a question she tried to avoid asking herself. How can I avoid giving in to this?
She curled up on her blankets and tried not to think about this question, but it was impossible. So, what if I don't give in to Eric? There will be other men, hundreds more, and my master will ask me to do the same with each of them. Then, of course, there's my master himself. Sooner or later, probably sooner, he will demand that I enjoy myself while having sex with him. Can I successfully fake an orgasm for a man whose career is training slaves? If I can fake one, can I fake them day after day? On the other hand, how can I force myself to have an orgasm if it just isn't there? It had to be a male fantasy that a girl could have an orgasm on command. After all, it seemed that every time she had sex with a boy he had an orgasm. It was almost as though a boy's orgasm was guaranteed by some law she didn't know about. There certainly wasn't any law that guaranteed her orgasm, though. If I could have an orgasm any time I wanted, she thought, the way a boy can, maybe things would work out.
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