Jim had thought that having his ex-girlfriend's mother, Laura, as a sex slave was going to be a satisfying revenge. Laura had been a domineering, almost sadistic presence in the doomed relationship with Diane; she'd never missed a chance to make Jim's life miserable. When Laura showed back up in Jim's life, after he'd built a successful business and amassed a good amount of wealth, the opportunity had seemed too good to pass up.
Looking back on the past couple of months of their "financial arrangement," Jim could only reflect that it wasn't merely a satisfying revenge; it was so, so much more!
Laura had fallen on hard times after her husband died; it didn't help that he'd gone massively in debt without letting her know. She wasn't a well-liked woman in any of her circles; her shrill and adversarial demeanor had burned bridges with her family, her work colleagues, and what few social connections she'd bothered to make. Jim was literally her last hope of not ending up in desperate poverty for the rest of her life, and she'd been willing to offer herself up as collateral.
It wasn't that Laura was any good at sex; she was anything but. Jim couldn't be sure that she'd ever really performed sexually in the past aside from getting pregnant with her daughter, Diane. She was a painfully thin, somewhat angular woman with a body as pointy and sharp as her personality. No, it wasn't her physical appearance or her skills with intimacy; it was how much Jim hated her, deep in his soul, and how very much she hated everything about the arrangement.
Although they'd been at it for two months, she still had the same sour, doomed expression when she opened the door for him on this particular Thursday night. It was always a Thursday; if Laura was lucky, Jim would have come over two or three other days of the week, but he was a busy man.
She was dressed in a plain but expensive bathrobe, black with silver stitching. Pulled tightly closed and tied at the waist, it covered her from calf to neck. "I hope you had a good day," she said, spitting the words. Jim smiled at her as she closed the door behind him.
"Not bad," he said, cordially enough. He loved the look on her face when he was nice to her. There were no illusions of affection in this arrangement; she'd never stopped hating him and wasn't about to. Jim didn't mind one bit; these sessions were good for his deeply vengeful and petty soul. "I'll take a beer, though; I could stand to relax a little."
Laura wasn't the kind of woman who would ever willingly fetch and carry for a man. Nevertheless, she got one of the fancy imported beers she'd bought specifically for him out of her refrigerator, opened it, and handed him the bottle as he hung his suit jacket over the back of a kitchen chair and had a seat. These little conversations were part of the foreplay for him.
She sat across from him, putting her hand on a spiral-bound notebook. "I wanted to talk about the arrangement," she said.
"Absolutely," said Jim.
She opened the notebook to reveal some fairly primitive financial diagrams; she'd obviously been working hard at this. "I don't think, at this rate, I can ever pay you back," she said, eyes lowered. She paused, waiting for a response.
"Walk me through it," he said, smiling and leaning forward.
"Ok," she said. She ran her fingers through her tightly curled hair, picked up a pencil, and started to tick off points on the charts. "The initial loan to cover my debts was a hundred and ten thousand dollars. My... payment... is a thousand dollars ever time I... well, you know..."
"Specify, please," said Jim. "In conversations like this, it's important that there's no ambiguity. No assumptions, no shorthand. Say exactly what you mean."
Laura swallowed uncomfortably. "It's a thousand dollars every time I make you orgasm," she choked out. Jim smiled, nodded, and motioned for her to continue. "Over the past eight weeks, you've averaged three orgasms a week. It's going to take close to a year to pay back the initial loan."
"Correct so far," said Jim. He wasn't even a little surprised that she'd been tracking his ejaculations; it meant a lot to her future.
"But you're also covering fifteen thousand dollars a month in payments," she said, voice trembling a little. "So, in the time it takes me to pay off the initial debt, a larger amount will have accrued in back payments. It will take me more than a year to pay off a year's worth of payments, after which more than a year's worth of additional payments will have accrued."
She looked up at him, tears in her eyes. "I'll never be free," she said. "You knew this, didn't you? This was your plan all along?"
Jim sat back, taking a long pull on his beer. "Let's talk about economics, for a minute," he said. Laura shook her head.
"You can't do this... this isn't right! I came to you for help..."
"Economics," repeated Jim. She looked at him with hatred, then closed the notebook, sat back, and folded her hands in her lap.
"Fine," she said. "Economics."
"At the current rate, you are correct. The rate at which you supply the given commodity - my orgasms - governs the rate at which I supply the commodity you're interested in - payments against your debt. Three times a week is actually kind of generous, but I can see it averaging out there."
She stayed silent, just waiting for him to continue.
"There are factors governing how quickly you can supply me with orgasms," he said. "Mostly, the quality of the sexual experiences you give me, but also the overall pleasure of the encounter. Are you trying to act like someone I want to have more sex with? Are you dressing yourself or otherwise maintaining yourself as a desirable sexual partner? Are you offering services in the form of sex acts I can't get elsewhere for less money? No. The answer to all of these is 'no.'"
Laura blushed hard and looked back down at her lap.
"You want the average to go up to a point where you can get ahead? You'll have to work for that. I come over here, you're dressed like a nun in court and you treat me like a necessary evil. I might BE a necessary evil, but it's not a sexy look."
He shrugged and finished the beer. His cock was raging hard in his pants; that look of defeat on her face was the strongest aphrodisiac he'd yet encountered. "Like I said before, a thousand dollars an orgasm is a monstrously high rate. If I was the kind of guy who had to pay for sex, I could get better service than what I've been getting from you for a tenth of the price, from someone who goes all out to make sure I'm going to be happy enough to be a repeat customer."
Laura slowly shook her head. "I... I don't know HOW, Jim. I've never... it's not something I've ever had to do before." She looked up at him. "Tell me how. Tell me how to get my numbers up?"
She was the kind of desperate that Jim liked. She knew exactly how bad her situation was; it was a little surprising that it had taken her this long to work it out. She was desperate enough to start going an extra mile.
"Let's go to the bedroom, and we'll see what we can do."
She nodded, rose, and led him across the hall to her bedroom. Jim sat in the overstuffed armchair in the corner and looked her up and down; the bathrobe was a fine, sheer material, but she had no curves to be accentuated by it. She might as well have dressed in a cardboard tube.
"Take off the bathrobe. Let's see what you wore for me to find under it."
Laura frowned, then untied the tie and opened the robe. Underneath it she was in her customary cream-colored bra and panties, purely no-nonsense function. Jim nodded as she slipped the robe down off her shoulders and placed it across the foot of her bed.
"Sexier underwear," Jim suggested. "You've got a nice, slim figure; just about any lingerie shop will be able to fit you without any problems. Go ahead and take those off, now."
The blush not leaving her cheeks, she nodded curtly and slid the shoulder straps of her bra down her arms and off. Then the twisted the bra around her body, her tiny A cup breasts popping over it as she did so and unclasped it when the clasp was more accessible. Then she rolled her panties down her thighs until they slid effortlessly down her calves and off her feet.
She stood naked before him, arms at her sides, thin body on display. She was looking better than when they'd started the arrangement; stress and money issues had caused her to lose weight she couldn't afford to lose, and she had looked nearly skeletal the first time he'd had her here. Now it was a healthier slim body; not a lot of curves but at least there was enough meat on her bones to hide most of her bones. Her ribs and pelvic arch still protruded, which Jim was starting not to hate.
"You're going to have to start doing that slower. Maybe get a bra that clasps in front, or a top that has ties on the sides. Same with the panties; unwrapping the present is part of the presentation. I'm sure the girls working the lingerie shops can give you some suggestions. Grab a pillow and come over here."
The brown-haired woman grimaced, then collected a pillow from the head of her bed. She stood in front of Jim and dropped the pillow on the floor between his feet. "On my knees?" she asked, knowing the answer.
Jim nodded, smiling. Laura knelt carefully on the pillow, hand on one of his knees to steady herself on the way down. She rested her ass on her heels, eyes down, shaking a little.
"Are... are you going to tie me up?" she asked. "You've usually tied me up by now..."
"Not this time. Not yet," said Jim. "I'm going to give you a chance to make this better for me. Take me out, nice and slow. There's no rush."
Laura looked at the bulge in the front of his suit pants, swallowed audibly, and reached for it. She preferred to hurry; these encounters were unpleasant for her for a number of reasons, and she would much have rathered to have gotten everything done as quickly as possible. With shaky fingers, she unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, and unbuttoned the waist band. As usual, he was wearing no underwear for their encounter.
Jim's rock-hard eight-inch cock sprang up, the head already purple with blood and shiny with tension. Laura looked up at him, a lost expression in her eyes. He was usually taking her head in his hands by this point, making her suck him. He was sitting back, now, just watching.
"Feel it a little. Run your hands over it. Get to know it some," he said.
Looking like she was touching a venomous snake, Laura wrapped her cool, thin fingers around his hardness, finding that she could get both hands on it. She fought her feelings, but the look of disgust on her face was impossible to hide. Keeping her eyes focused on the throbbing cock in her grip, she slowly and inexpertly ran her fingertips over it, sliding her palms along the sides and across the top.
"I... I don't know what to do," she said, voice high and tight. "Am... am I doing this right?"
Jim reached out and ran a fingertip along her arm. "There are hands on my cock; it's hard to do that wrong. Just keep the touch light, for the moment. I'll let you know when you need to do something differently."
