Indentured Pervitude 04

The lawn had been mown without any nagging on her part. The whole house was vacuumed - usually a chore that fell to her. And Wendy hadn't had to lift a finger. She could get used to this. It was the way things should have been all along, and she only had herself to blame for not standing up for herself and demanding it be that way. She didn't want to think about it too much. She went back to her book, wondering if she should move to the back deck or just stay there on the sofa.

Before she could make up her mind, Tom came strolling in fresh from a shower. He had a big, dopey grin on his face, probably having something to do with him being totally naked and sporting a hard-on. She loved seeing him like that, especially in the living room of all places.

"I got all my work done. Don't you think I deserve a thank you blowjob?"

She should have known that's what he was up to. He knew full well she wasn't into that. It made her jaw hurt, not to mention her neck. He always forced himself deeper than she wanted him to go and made her gag. She couldn't count how many times he'd almost made her throw up all over his stupid dick. If it wasn't for the strange appeal of cum for her, she'd refuse to do it at all.

Wendy hated to admit it, even to herself, but for some odd reason, she truly did love the taste of his cum. She didn't really understand why, but it had something to do with how kinky it was to have a man squirt in her mouth. It was something that came from his cock, from his balls, and that made it somehow desirable for her. And the guys seemed to really like it when you wanted to swallow their cream. This gave her an idea. One that she'd had many times before, but was never daring enough to propose.

"I'll tell you what, lover...you suck me and then I'll suck you."

"That's not fair," he said, his cock drooping as he whined.

"What's not fair about it? You give me what I want, and I give you what you want. Sounds perfectly fair to me."

"Okay, but...you know I don't do...that."

"Fine. If that's the case, then from now on neither do I."

"Oh, c'mon," he waggled his flagging erection toward her. "You know you love it. How can you say no to this?"

She was tempted to give in and suck his dick just to shut him up like she so often did in the past. But, this time she decided to draw a line in the sand. "It's not easy," she lied, "but let me ask you a question: Do you like it when I suck your dick?"

"Are you kidding, I love it! I wish you'd do it even more. Every day would be nice," he suggested hopefully.

"Okay, well, I like getting oral sex, too. But, if I'm not getting any, then neither are you." She couldn't believe she was saying that. She'd fantasized about it so many times, and now she was actually doing it.

"Aw, don't be like that."

Wendy opened her legs and patted her crotch suggestively. "It's your call."

Tom stood there with a sour look on his face. She should have been insulted by his disgust regarding eating her out, but she was used to it. Tom just stood there working out the sexual math in his head. "Okay, well, if you're going to be that way, then just forget it." He turned and left the room with a pout like a little boy who didn't get his way.

Wendy would have preferred that he gave in, dropped to his knees, and licked her pussy to orgasm, but that was wishing for too much. She was just as happy to avoid being choked by his dick. She figured she came out ahead in the exchange and went back to enjoying her book - a historical bodice-ripper where not nearly enough bodices were being ripped!

~ ~ ~

Wendy checked her watch for the third time that night, and it was almost 10:30 - a half-hour past when Tom was supposed to be home. He had been released just a couple of weeks ago and had begged to go out with his friends. She didn't see a problem with that, but she told him he had to be home by 10:00 at the latest. He didn't like that but agreed.

And here it was after his curfew, and no Tom. She had "beeped" him fifteen minutes ago, but he hadn't called. She wasn't sure if she was more worried or more angry. She didn't want to believe it, but he was testing her - no doubt about it. Angela had warned her.

She hated to do it, but she needed to use the tracking function to see where he was. Maybe he was just around the block on his way home. Checking on him wasn't a violation of trust, just concern for his well-being. She opened the Mastr app, ignoring the pit in her stomach. She navigated to the location tab and clicked on the Find button.

It took only a second or two. She stared at the blinking dot that indicated Tom's whereabouts. She wasn't sure, so she enlarged the map enough for her to get the name of the building he was at. She tried not to jump to any conclusions when she saw he was at a place called "The Blue Angel." She clicked on it, and sure enough...it was a strip club.

Angrily, she opened the Enforcement tab. The menu there presented her with several options. Her finger hovered over the Recovery button. She didn't know if that would get him into legal trouble or not. It didn't matter - he'd made his choice and would have to live with the consequences. She hated that she was thinking like her father. She paced around the house and tried not to get any more worked up than she already was.

"Fuck him," she said through gritted teeth ten minutes later and pressed the button to initiate the Recovery option. The screen flashed red, and a message appeared: "Security Unit Dispatched." She hoped this wasn't a mistake, and went to find her paperwork to see what she'd just put into motion.

~ ~ ~

Tom had his buddy Phil order him one more drink. This would be the last one...for real this time. The long-legged, mostly-naked Asian girl on stage writhed to the beat of the music, displaying her talents to a mob of lustful eyes. How did they get their skin to look so silky and lickable? Maybe it was the lighting. He imagined Wendy up there trying to do a sexy dance and laughed at the idea of it. He desperately wanted a lapdance from this girl, but there was no way any of his friends would front him for that. And he wasn't about to ask his wife for permission to spend the money to have a hot chick grind on his wayward boner.

His hand automatically went to the back of his neck as he cursed his current lot in life yet again. That's when he noticed two large men in matching suits were coming toward him. He didn't like the look of that. The spot on the back of his neck itched suddenly. Before he could get up and move away, they were towering over him.

"Thomas Cisero?"

"Yes, what's this about?"

"Come with us."

"Hey, Tommy, these guys botherin' you?" Phil asked as he handed him a drink. "Leave him alone, fellas, it's his comin' home party."

"I'm sorry sir, but we can't do that. We're from BitWize Security." He flashed a badge.

"Fuck you guys," Ben said from a nearby chair, clearly over his limit. "Get the fuck outta here!"

Tom noticed a bouncer heading their way, but another big guy in a suit came up to him and the bouncer just nodded and backed off. What the fuck was going on?

"Look, I'm not bothering anyone - just out having a good time, that's all." Tom wanted to calm things down before any of his friends got themselves into trouble.

By then Jake and Ryan had come over, doing their best to look menacing. Tom knew none of his friends could handle themselves in a real fight, but it was nice that they came to his defense anyway. However, he wished none of them were there. He didn't want them to see this.

"Your owner stipulated that you be home over an hour ago."

One of the guys whistled low. "Your owner? Does he mean Wendy?"

"Look, guys, I'm just going to finish my drink, then I'll head home. There's no need for this."

"We're past that," the one with the beard said, stepping forward. "Put your drink down and come with us. Now."

The more they insisted, the more Tom felt like he needed to resist them. He couldn't just give in in front of his friends like a little bitch.

"I'll meet you out front when I'm done..."

His boys liked the sound of that and made some approving noises. Tom went to take a sip of his drink to prove just how unimpressed he was with these thugs. The glass got slapped out of his hand, and before he knew it he had been hoisted up by his throat and his arm was painfully jacked up behind his back. These guys must have cybernetic enhancements or something.

Phil made a move and was punched square in the face. Blood spilled from his split nose and he went down like a sack of potatoes. This couldn't get any worse. A woman, probably one of the stirppers, screamed, and people backed off.

"Anyone else have anything they want to say?" the guy who had just decked Phil asked the guys. No one said a word. "That's what I thought. Say goodbye to your friend, gentleman."

With a curt nod, Tom was handcuffed in front of everyone and hauled out of the club. He couldn't believe Wendy would humiliate him like that in front of his friends - just for being, like, ten minutes late. Fucking bitch. As he sat in the back of the dark van he tried to think of some way to get back at her for treating him like this, but he couldn't come up with anything. She had him by the balls, and there wasn't a thing he could do about it. He just had to bide his time and learn to play the game. He wasn't going to be a slave forever, and when he was free, she'd be the one who was sorry. He would make sure of it.

~ ~ ~

The status of the app went to: "Unit on Scene." Then, after a few minutes, the screen turned yellow and "Subject Apprehended" appeared. It soon changed to "Transporting" while remaining yellow. Finally, it went to green and switched to: "Subject in Detention.' A few minutes later, she received a call.

"Hello, Ms. Ward? This is Agent Wilmar down at the O.P. Recovery Center. We have your property in our possession - one Tom...Cisero. How would you like us to dispense with him?"

Wendy's mind raced. What now? "Can I come get him?"

"Yes, but there will be a premium charge for him to be released to you tonight since it is after normal business hours. Or you can pick him up in the morning for a nominal recovery fee."

Premium charges didn't sound like something she could afford right now. He would just have to wait until tomorrow. She thanked the man on the phone, took down a reference number, and hung up. Did she do the right thing? Whatever the case, it was Tom's fault for not listening to her. He was going to have to learn that she was taking this thing seriously, even if he wasn't. The sooner he came to terms with that the easier his life would be. He had to learn it was for his own good to behave himself.

Wendy changed into her pajamas, washed her face, and got into bed. She tossed and turned for an hour, her mind wasn't able to quiet down and let her sleep. She finally got up and retrieved her vibrator from its hiding place. She wasn't feeling at all sexy, but she had to do something to take the edge off. She got naked and started masturbating.

It felt weird at first, but then her troubles slowly began to melt away. Her thoughts turned to the good feelings she was giving herself, the pleasure the soft vibrations were inducing, and the images they inspired. She is a passenger on a sailing ship that's attacked by pirates. Taken as a hostage, she's stripped naked in front of the crew and leered at like a piece of meat. The pirate captain orders that she be taken to his cabin, and she is roughly escorted there and tied to his luxurious bed. She struggles, but her efforts are fruitless. After a long wait, the rather attractive captain arrives and looks her over hungrily. Wendy hates him and yet can't deny that she is wet between her legs at the thought of what he might be planning to do to her.

That's when the fiendish criminal forced her legs open and began licking her exposed pussy. It is a merciless violation of her honor, but she can't deny how good it feels. She soon stops trying to fight it and just gives in to the thrill of being taken against her will. It was only a matter of minutes before she was having her first orgasm of the night.

Wendy turned and got onto her knees, her ass up in the air, head down on the pillow. This time, instead of just buzzing her clit, she slipped the dildo in. She did it slowly, savoring the sensation as it entered her...stretched her. This time she is pulled over by a good-looking policeman. He offers to let her go with a warning if she complies. She is too scared not to and offers herself up to him. He bends her over the hood of his patrol car, grabs her hips, and rams himself into her from behind. Damn, he is big...bigger than Tom. She can never tell him this happened.

The policeman pumps into her and makes her orgasm with a series of plaintive screams. She could probably get to sleep after that, but she sensed that she had one more in her. She turned off the vibrator and put it aside. Her fingers would be more than enough at this point.

She is a professor...a Catholic college. The girls in their little skirts, the boys in their white shirts and ties. She is in control of them all. This time she isn't the victim, she is in charge. She opens her blouse as she walks around the full classroom, enjoying the students looking at her wide-eyed and lustful. She has one of the boys stand. He is embarrassed that everyone can see he has a boner. She pulls it out, and the others laugh, but that stops abruptly when she starts giving him a handjob. The girls are riveted, the boys envious.

Before she could get to the part of the fantasy where she makes one of the girls strip and spread her legs for the boy, she came again - the most intense orgasm of the night.

Wendy sighed contentedly and drifted off while still naked. She slept soundly for the rest of the night and woke up horny. She decided to give herself one or two more orgasms before she went to the Recovery Center to pick up Tom.

A stranger breaks into the house while Tom is out. He finds her in bed...with nothing on...

~ ~ ~

The Security Center building was in an out-of-the-way part of the city. The building was large and foreboding. It projected strength and authority. She'd never seen anything like it. As she approached, she felt small and almost insignificant. How could a building elicit such an emotional reaction? She just wanted to do what she had to do and get out of there as quickly as possible.

Wendy worked her way through a series of gatekeepers and finally arrived at the holding area. It was eerily quiet, despite being nearly full of cells containing prisoners, or maybe they were detainees. She couldn't see him, but she knew Tom was in one of those cells and had been for almost the past twelve hours. She spoke to an intense looking man who was large and seemed ready to take you down at a moment's notice. She didn't like this place at all.

"I'm...I'm here to pick up my fiancé..." Wendy told the man meekly, hoping not to upset him. He smiled a menacing smile that seemed to be meant to reassure her all was okay. It didn't.

"Fiancé? We ain't got none of dem. Only outta control debt slaves here, sweetheart. Ya got a reference number?"

Wendy handed him a slip of paper. He typed the alpha-numeric code into the computer in front of him. Then typed some more before looking up. "Reason for da discipline action?"

She wasn't sure what to say. She didn't want to get Tom into trouble - at least not any more than she already had. "Breaking curfew," was all she could think of. Hopefully, that was innocuous enough that it wouldn't cause him any problems...any more problems.

"Ah, right," he went back to the keyboard and tapped at it some more. "Good thing ya called it in. Dat's where it starts... da insubordination. He's new possessed?" A couple of mouse clicks. "Yeah, ownership granted to ya just sixteen days ago. Dat makes sense. Dey can get froggy at first and try'n push deir luck. Not many new masters, or mistresses, are willin' to do what it takes to keep dem in line. Ya did de right thing. If ya let 'im get away with breaking curfew, it only leads to bigger problems down de road."

"I...I did it for his own good," Wendy said, trying to justify her actions.

"Dat's right," the severe man concurred. Now she wasn't so sure she'd done the right thing after all if this neanderthal was agreeing with her. "De order is in. Dey'll fetch 'im, clean 'im up for ya, and have 'im out here before ya know it. Ya can wait right over dere." He motioned to a bank of uncomfortable-looking chairs. She stood where she was and surveyed the cells behind him.

The first thing that caught her attention was a woman who looked to be in her mid-30s wearing a tight mini-dress, and hanging on the bars of her cell looking desperate. She had a fabulous pair of breasts worthy of envy that were practically spilling out of her low top. "There's a...ah, woman?"

The guy looked over his shoulder and grinned a malevolent grin. "Oh, yeah, cops brought her in last night. Solicitation."

"But isn't prostitution legal these days?"

"It is, but only in licensed joints. She was out selling it on de streets." He could have put it more crudely, so Wendy was grateful he had been that polite about it.

"And she's doing that to pay off her debt?"

"She racked up somethin' like 80 grand in credit cards on shoppin' and shit. But, nah. She's not doin' it for the money. Her owner, who also happens to be her husband, likes for her to go 'n' sell herself to tree or four guys - no condom, just raw doggin' out there. Den she comes home an' he eats her box out, den sends her back to the streets again for more. You wouldn't believe what we see come t'rough here."

"How do you even know all that?"

"She's been in here before. Tells her whole story to anyone who'll listen. Dey're always lookin' for sympathy. Last time she was in I dumped a load in her before she left just to give her old man a little bonus." He chuckled. "Maybe he wants some more. Whaddya think?"

"I think that's awful," Wendy stated with disgust, surprising herself. Something else concerned her. "But...should you be telling me about her personal business?"

The big guy shrugged. "Don't matter. Dey ain't got no rights. Who's gonna complain?"

That seemed rather harsh. "What about their privacy?"

"Ain't got none o' dat, either. Take dat guy over there, fer example." He waved toward a young man, maybe in his early 20s, looking tired and defeated. All he had on was a tight red Speedo, which provided a nice view of his well-toned body and his sizable bulge. He was a pathetic sight, but Wendy couldn't help wondering what it would be like to make love to someone like that. "Him walkin' around like dat - almost naked - you think he cares about privacy?"

"What's his story?"

"His aunt owns 'im, if ya can believe dat. It turns out she's a horny old lady. Almost as soon as she took ownership, she was makin' him do her every which way. Not a bad deal, if ya ask me. But den she started farming 'im out."

"Farming him out?"

"Yeah, givin' 'im over to other people to fu--do with as dey please, if ya know what I mean. She wouldn't charge for it or nothin'. Mostly it was just her friends. The old bags couldn't get enough of it. He'd end up bangin' a different broad every day...sometimes two or three at a time. Doesn't sound so bad ta me. I don't know why he ran away, but we got 'im, an' it's back to the sex mines for him." Another one of those sinister chuckles punctuated his story and made Wendy's skin crawl. Could she ask for his owner's contact information and see if she'd be willing to farm him out to her? What was she thinking? What a terrible impulse. She wiped it from her mind.

"That's terrible. How can people do that?"

The guy shrugged again. "I s'pose it comes wit da territory. After you're an owner for a while, you'll see how it is."