The House Book One: Pet Lucy

by Madison Barry

  “What?”

  “Have sex with him.”

  “You interrupted us.” Oh, that’s what he was upset about. I shouldn't have answered Jen. I was new at this! How was I supposed to know?

  “Good. Lucy, what the fuck is wrong with you? Let’s go. God, how much did you drink?”

  “But, wait, what about—I want…” I gestured toward Jake.

  Jen dragged me away from Jake’s room and back toward the stairs. “You’re an idiot. You’re drunk, and he’s a jerk.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Patrick told me. He saw you come upstairs with him and said I should come get you. Jake’s… he’s… got a reputation.”

  I was inclined to listen to Jen, even though we hadn’t known each other very long. She was like Beth, smarter and more experienced than me, but happy to take me under her wing, protect me. But, on the other hand, what the fuck did she know? She’d been at this school exactly as long as I had! “You’re not my mom. Maybe I want to have sex with him!”

  Jen shook her head. “I shouldn't have brought you here. Sorry. I didn’t think—I thought it would be, you know, tamer. Pat’s a good guy, and I figured…” She sighed. “Never mind. Let’s go home.”

  I glanced back toward Jake’s open door, tried to break free of Jen’s grasp. “What kind of reputation?” it occurred to me to ask.

  “He likes to bang the new girls,” she replied. “He’d fuck you and drop you. You don’t want him. Trust me.”

  “Did you have sex with him?” I asked.

  Jen’s cheeks pinked. “Almost,” she mumbled. “Forget him, Lucy. Aren’t you a virgin? Do you really want your first time to be like, well, that?”

  I knew she was right. “Maybe,” I said, pouting.

  “We’re going now, Lucy.” I allowed her to lead me down the stairs to the front door.

  * * *

  Sunday, November 8, 2015, 3:00 p.m.

  Day 2

  Don’t drop any food, Pet. Kneel at Rest, Pet. Go up to your room and take a nap, Pet. Practice your poses. We’ll come for you at three. Pet described me better than Slave, I thought. They treated me like a pampered dog; granted, one they had sex with, but still. Sit, stay, roll over. Eat this now. Fetch. Good Pet.

  What had started out as freeing was quickly becoming oppressive. I wanted to read a book for pleasure, check Facebook, text Beth. Anything! If I’d known I wouldn't even have my phone, maybe I wouldn't have come here. No, I still would have. But it hadn’t even been 24 hours, and the restrictions were beginning to chafe. I wished, at the very least, I knew what was going to happen next.

  At precisely 3:00, my door opened. I was Kneeling at Rest on the floor beside my bed, as ordered.

  “Hello, Pet,” Glasses said. “Come downstairs. You have earned a reward.” That was different. I rose immediately and followed him out, heeling as I’d been taught. Glasses explained as we walked. “We are very proud of you for beginning to overcome your fears. In addition, we observed you practicing your poses, just as you were ordered to do. You learned them quickly and precisely. You’ve pleased us, Pet.”

  He led me back to the living room, where the other five masters were seated in exactly the same arrangement as before. Deep Voice was even sitting in the same casual way—legs crossed and head in hand.

  “Stand at Rest there, Pet,” Deep Voice said. “Show us the three new poses you were practicing this afternoon.”

  I’d chosen three mostly at random, ones that didn’t look to difficult to remember. The first was a variant of the Presentation Pose, kneeling. I lowered myself to my knees, quite gracefully if I did say so myself, and interlaced my fingers behind my neck, elbows out, back arched. Presentation Pose Kneeling was as awful as the standing version.

  “And what is that one called, Pet?” Deep Voice asked.

  “Presentation Pose Kneeling, Sir,” I responded.

  “Good, Pet. The next?”

  This one was so simple, I didn’t know why it needed a name at all. On all fours, hands under shoulders and knees under hips, eyes to the floor, it was called Table Pose.

  “Very nice, Pet. And the third?”

  Being praised for such a thing was almost as humiliating as having to learn it in the first place. I regretted, now, choosing this third one. I’d practiced it on the bed, but here I clearly had to do it on the floor. I lay on my stomach, legs straight and together, arms at my sides, head turned to my right. Sort of the inverse of Lying at Rest, it was called Prone. I’d browsed through the whole book before choosing these three, and some of them looked downright painful. They’d said I would have to learn them all by the end of the week. I wasn’t sure, now, that I actually could.

  “Stand, Pet. You have pleased us.”

  I certainly preferred pleasing them to the alternative. I returned to Standing at Rest.

  “Your reward will be a thirty-minute soak in our Jacuzzi tub after dinner. However, know that rewards can be revoked if your good behavior does not continue. Somehow, Pet, I think that is not a concern with you.” I detected just a hint of humor.

  A Jacuzzi tub. I’d expected a piece of cake or maybe just praise. That sounded amazing.

  They weren’t cruel. They could be, and there wouldn't be anything I could do about it. But they chose not to be.

  “Come with me, Pet,” Glasses said. Glasses again. That filled me with warmth. I wondered if they knew I liked him best or if it was just his turn. I had a feeling not much got past them.

  Glasses led me back to the bedroom I’d been in earlier. “Missionary, Pet,” he said.

  I had no idea what that meant. Was it a position? I hadn’t paid much attention to the names of the positions I didn’t learn, looking more at the pictures before making a selection. Should I ask? I wasn’t supposed to talk. My stomach dropped. He was going to flog me for disobeying, but I didn’t know what I was supposed to do!

  “Obey, Pet,” he said.

  I trembled, looked up at him, pleading with my eyes.

  “You weren’t given the name for that one, were you Pet?”

  “No, Sir.” Relief.

  “An oversight. Lie on your back, arms above your head with wrists crossed, knees bent and spread with feet flat. Missionary. And, Pet, if you don’t know, you may ask, at least with me.”

  The Teacher had shown me that, but he hadn’t given me the name. Was Glasses going to have sex with me, too? It seemed likely.

  I can do this. Maybe. I lay down on the bed and assumed the position. Glasses took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. He stood beside the bed and placed a hand on my stomach.

  “Five deep breaths, Pet,” he said. “Whenever you feel scared, remember, five deep breaths.” He watched me, counting silently as my chest rose and fell with each breath. “Good. Look at me, Pet, at my face.”

  With pleasure. I met his eyes and saw compassion, concern. His hand moved up to my chest, between my breasts. “Maintain your position,” he murmured, and slid his hand to my breast, resting his palm lightly against my nipple. He watched me. My heart beat faster, louder, I held my breath, and a tremor started in my arms and thighs. I focused on his hand, on that point of contact, fixed my gaze on his face. He moved his hand to the other breast, then broke eye contact to lean in and suck on my nipple. My breath exploded out of me, and I quickly took another and held it. He tongued my nipple, nibbling with his lips, until I had to exhale and take another breath, and this time he drew my nipple deep into his mouth and sucked hard. The sensation shot through me. My hips rose off the bed and a guttural cry erupted from my chest.

  “Good, Pet!” Glasses said.

  Good? What had I done?

  Or maybe it was what I hadn’t done. I was still… here. Still present. The realization itself sent me spiraling, though. Would he do it again? Touch my nipples? Suck on them? I liked it. I’d always liked it, since the first time anyone had done it to me. And that memory sent me out of the present back into the past.

  He was sucking the ot
her nipple now. Either he hadn’t noticed me start to withdraw or, since I’d given my consent to continue regardless, he was just going to keep on as he was.

  I was dimly aware of him undressing, kneeling between my legs, of his cock sliding into me. Part of me registered that he was smaller than the Teacher, that he fucked more gently, but I was gone, unaware even of the tears streaming down my cheeks. I screamed at myself, in my mind, to snap out of it, but it wasn’t until Glasses came and pulled out of me that I was able to return to the present.

  “I won’t do that again, Pet,” I heard. “Not until you’re ready to be here with me.”

  Incredibly, I had maintained the Missionary Pose, and his words penetrated the walls I’d built in my head. I’d disappointed Glasses, that much was clear. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, still naked, looking down at me. He wiped a tear from my cheek with his thumb, got up and got dressed, then went to the cabinet.

  “Next time, you’ll have to be punished, but I’ll let it pass this once.”

  Punished? For what? Glasses seemed sad, not angry, though. He took something out of the cabinet and turned back toward me. “Go back to your room. Take this with you. Use the toilet, then masturbate for thirty minutes.” He returned to the bed and showed me a vibrator. “Then practice your positions and learn three more. One of us will retrieve you for dinner. Stand at Rest, Pet, and take this from me.”

  He was ordering me to masturbate! I slid off the bed and took the vibrator from him. I had one just like it at home. Beth had given it to me. A big wand, heavy and thick in my hand. I was frightened just remembering how intense my experience with it had been.

  Glasses cupped my cheek and kissed me lightly on the lips. “Go on, Pet. I’ll see you at dinner.”

  If I’d been allowed to run, I’d have dashed up to my room to hide my tears, but I was expected to walk at a calm and measured pace. I held in the humiliation until I shut the door behind me, but I couldn't even indulge in a long cry, because I had orders. I did need to pee, so I was grateful for that instruction, at least.

  Masturbate for thirty minutes. I tried to forget they were watching me on the cameras.

  * * *

  Saturday, February 14, 2004, 11:32 p.m.

  11 years ago

  Derek led me into his room and shut the door. “Josh is out with his girlfriend, and he said they’d go to her room, so we have the place to ourselves,” he said, obviously hinting at something.

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  “Aw, come on, Luce. It’s Valentine’s Day. How long have we been dating?”

  Did he really not know, or was this a rhetorical question? “Almost a year,” I answered.

  “Ten months, three weeks, and four days, to be exact.” He grinned.

  I laughed. “Okay, you got me there.”

  “So?”

  “What?”

  “Is that long enough?”

  “For what?”

  He flung himself down on his bed. “Lucy, come on.”

  He’d been after me for months to have sex, and I kept telling him I wasn’t ready. “I’m sorry, Derek. I’m shy, I guess. Sex isn’t the only reason to stay in a relationship, is it?”

  He sat up and sighed. “Of course not. I like you. I don’t mean to pressure you, you know?” He held out a hand to me, and I put my hand in his. He tugged me closer, and I sat down next to him. “You’re not, like, waiting for marriage or something, are you? You would have told me that, right?”

  I looked down at my hand in his. He moved my hand to his leg. “No. I don’t think so. I just feel like I’ll know when I’m ready, and I don’t feel that yet.”

  “Are you expecting a choir of angels or something? It’s just sex, Luce.”

  I bit my lip. Maybe he was right. What was I waiting for? “Okay.” A little bubble of excitement started in my stomach. “Yes.”

  “Really? You’re sure?”

  “Are you trying to talk me out of it now?” I asked, teasing. It wouldn't take much.

  “Definitely not.” He kissed me, one hand on my thigh and the other on my shoulder, and pushed me back on his bed. I lay down, nervous but curious, and bent my knees. We’d made out plenty of times, even lying down, but knowing we were going to take it farther this time made it all new again.

  He knelt between my legs and smiled at me, then pulled his shirt off. “Can I take yours off, too?” he asked.

  I nodded and sat up enough for him to lift it up over my head. He planted his hands beside my shoulders and kissed me again. I opened my mouth and let his tongue in, reached up to caress his chest. I did like kissing him. I relaxed a little, just kissing, and my excitement grew. I’d finally find out what all the fuss was about. I just hoped he knew what he was doing, because I sure didn’t.

  He backed up a little and shifted his weight to one elbow, kissed me all over my face and neck, lowered my bra straps and pushed the cups off my breasts. He kissed my nipples, pinched them, sucked them a little tentatively. “Oh,” I said. “That’s nice.” When he’d sucked just so, an answering pulse down below made me want more. He responded by continuing with more confidence, sucking one nipple and then the other.

  “I want to make you come,” he said.

  Well, that seemed only fair. Did he think I’d expect any less? I frowned.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing. Do that some more,” I said.

  He returned to my nipples, sucking and pinching. I closed my eyes and put my hands on his head. If he wanted to do this all night, I’d be okay with that.

  “That’s so good,” I breathed.

  He stopped and sat back on his heels, unbuttoned my fly. “Ready for more?” he asked.

  I nodded, suddenly afraid he’d stopped because I told him I liked it. I lifted my hips so he could pull my jeans and underwear off. I closed my legs, embarrassed. He’d never been down there. He sighed and leaned over me again to suck my nipples some more, and his other hand traveled down my stomach. He snuck a finger between my legs and found my clitoris. Plus one for him. I’d heard a lot of guys didn’t know where it was.

  I gasped as he made contact, and he grunted. “Nice?” he asked.

  “Mmf,” I replied.

  He rubbed my clit with his finger, going faster when I moaned and opened my legs. He sucked on my nipples again, stroked my clit harder, almost too hard, and stopped when I bucked my hips and moaned again.

  He stood up and shed his pants, then scrambled for them again to retrieve a condom from his pocket. “Sorry,” he said. “Almost forgot.” I frowned again at a stab of annoyance that he kept stopping right when it had started to feel good.

  His dick stuck straight out from his body, hard and eager. I didn’t have a basis of comparison, but it didn’t seem especially large.

  If he wanted to make me come, he was going to have to work harder than that. I waited, hoping he’d go back to my clit.

  “Touch yourself,” he instructed.

  “What? Why?”

  “It’s so hot,” he said.

  Reluctantly, I reached down and stroked myself. I was shy about it, and I could barely feel my own finger. He watched while he rolled the condom on. Uncertainty overcame me. He wasn’t making this quite as special as I’d hoped, and now he seemed like he was in a hurry just to put his dick in me. What about making me come? I shook my head. “Derek, I–”

  “What?”

  I couldn't tell him I’d changed my mind now. I hadn’t, really. I just wanted more foreplay. A lot more. “Nothing.”

  He stretched out on top of me again, with his knees between mine, leaning on his elbows. He kissed me, smiled, and the head of his cock bumped against my pussy. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Luce,” he whispered.

  “Wait,” I said, but his cock found the right hole, and he entered a short way and then paused. The sensation was strange, not exactly painful but not the revelation of pleasure I’d been expecting. He backed up, then pushed forward a little farther.

 
“Oh, fuck, Lucy, you feel so good.”

  At least he was happy.

  He withdrew partway, then thrust with more force. Something snapped inside me, a stabbing pain, then burning. “Ow! Ow, Derek, stop!” I could feel him all the way in, pressure against the walls of my vagina, everything stretching and protesting.

  “You’re so tight!”

  Did he not hear me? “Derek, you’re hurting me! Stop, please!”

  “It will only hurt for a sec,” he said. “Then it’ll feel good. I promise.” He pulled out, though, and some of the burning subsided. “Better? I’m sorry, I didn’t know it would hurt so much.” He waited, then entered again, slower. “Okay?”

  I nodded. A few more thrusts, not painful anymore, but they didn’t exactly feel good. “Okay,” I said.

  Another several strokes and he was done for, but I was just as glad it was over with. He withdrew and went to throw the condom away. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “It’ll be better next time.”

  “Yeah. Next time.” Right. Sure.

  * * *

  Sunday, November 8, 2015, 3:58 p.m.

  Day 2

  I lay on my bed with the vibrator in my hand. I’d been ordered to masturbate. I didn’t know why. But thirty minutes was way too much! And I didn’t even have any material to help me along, some porn or, well, anything really. Well, I did have the image of both the Teacher and Glasses naked. Neither was exactly an eyesore.

  I wondered, absurdly, if any of them masturbated to the image of my naked body in their heads. Or possibly to the image of me masturbating for their security cameras. Fuck, I’d almost managed to forget about that. Then again, they could have sex with me whenever they wanted. They didn’t need to jerk off to a video of me.

  Thirty minutes. Right. I glanced at the clock. I studied the vibrator, switched it on, then off. I’d start slower.

  I liked what Glasses had done to my nipple. I pinched my own nipple experimentally, gently at first, then harder. Nothing. Did the cameras also pick up sound? I didn’t know.

  Glasses didn’t say I had to come. He said I had to masturbate.

  “Come on, Lucy,” I muttered. That felt strange, saying my own name. Less than 24 hours here, and I’d become so used to being just “Pet” or “Slave.”