Chattel 1

The alarm beeped smugly, and John awoke with a groan.

Five in the morning. He had only been asleep since midnight.

He groaned again. If there was a part of the day he dreaded the most, this was it. It wasn't just the lack of sleep, the exhaustion that hung over him like a fog, the feeling of heaviness in limbs barely refreshed from the day before. No - there was much more to it than that.

He slammed his hand down on the alarm in anger, cutting it off in mid beep. Immediately he winced, regretting his rashness. The alarm might not have awoken her and John might have been able to sneak out of the bedroom and downstairs without interruption. Now there was no chance.

He felt a stirring in the bed, and grimaced to himself. Yes, she was awake.

"Well. Good morning, baby," she greeted him with a voice like melted butter, stretching her arms above her head languorously like a cat.

"Good morning," he replied, trying to keep the sigh out of his voice. He sat up, turned to look at her - it was forbidden to speak to a woman without looking her in the eye.

There she lay, naked, on her back, her long blonde hair trailing out to cover the pillow underneath her head. She was in her middle forties and still desirable, even though her golden skin was beginning to lose its elasticity and her smooth belly was beginning to bulge slightly. She still had the firm round breasts and lithe long legs that had made her a star of the television, one leg curled up now under the other. But John had seen these legs and these breasts and the curve of her buttocks and the smooth perfection of her pussy enough times already. Whatever desire he may once have held for them had long since faded.

His desires were irrelevant.

"Now baby," she purred at him in that buttery voice, "were you going somewhere? Trying to sneak away? Hmm?"

"It's five o'clock," he answered, keeping his voice level, emotionless. "You instructed me to have breakfast prepared and ready for you to eat no later than five-thirty every morning on weekdays."

"Yes I did, didn't I?" she purred. "Your devotion to your duties is quite proper, especially in one so young. But there's something else I instructed you to do every morning, before you go downstairs to make breakfast. Do you remember what it was?"

John wanted to look away, but he could not. It was forbidden.

"Yes," he mumbled.

"Good. What was it, John?" she demanded of him, her voice silken.

"I remember."

"I know you remember, baby. But I want to hear you say it."

He looked her in the eye, blushed a deep red. "Just let me get on with it," he pleaded.

"No." Her voice was hard now, commanding. "Say it, John. You're eighteen years old and you have your entire life as a chattel still to live. It's best you get over this silly sense of modesty immediately, for it will not serve you well in the years ahead."

He wilted under her steely gaze. "I am to... lick your pussy. If you are in the mood."

"That's right, baby. Oh, if only you men knew how it feels for a woman to start her day with that kind of attention! It really puts her in the right mindset for the long hours ahead of her." She spread her long legs then, and hurriedly put John's pillow behind her head, on top of her own, so that she was sitting up in the bed. "And I am in the mood, baby. Come here and lick my pussy."

John buried a sigh, rolled over until he was face-to-face with her pussy - smooth and smelling faintly of summer flowers - and slowly ran his tongue down the inside of her thigh.

She shuddered, slapped him hard on the top of the head. He winced, though she could not have seen it. "No John, no foreplay this morning. I'm still tense from yesterday, I just need the relief. Make me come." It was an order.

Unseen, he rolled his eyes, and buried his tongue in her pussy.

He knew it wouldn't take her long - her libido was always somewhat elevated in the early morning. Perhaps her dreams were to blame...?

John didn't know. He was not a psychiatrist - no men were. Nor were they lawyers or doctors or politicians or teachers or members of any of the professional classes. They were too few. Their schooling was restricted to the basics, and they were reserved for the home.

She moaned as his tongue touched her clitoris - softly at first, until she grabbed his hair and thrust his head down into her pussy, wetting his lips and his nose with her juices.

He attacked that little nub with his tongue, in and out, in and out, swirling it around in a circular motion, listening to the groans in the bed above him, muffled as she squeezed his head with her thighs.

He licked the entire length of that smooth hairless slit, and slowly inserted a finger between the folds as he continued to tease her clitoris with his tongue. The moans were coming faster and faster now, especially as John began to thrust two of his fingers in and out of her pussy, faster and faster, faster and faster. The squeezing of her thighs around his head was beginning to hurt somewhat, and the pressure on the back of his skull as her hands ground his face between her legs made it harder and harder to breathe.

She never took this long in the early morning. Surely she would come soon?

She did, and John's poor head was thrust hard into that wet cavern as she climaxed with an almighty groan, shuddering all around the poor boy, a fearsome performance. Her entire body trembled, and she held onto his skull for dear life.

At last the shuddering came to a stop. She pulled poor John's face away from the nook between her thighs, still pulling him by the hair, until his wet face - sticky and covered in her juices - was level with hers once more.

"Well John," she said, her voice tired and satisfied. "That was good. Very good." She chuckled. "Ha! That's why I bought you, after all!" The smile vanished. "But I don't expect to have to talk to you again the way I did this morning. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, I understand," he replied, wanting desperately to look away in shame but terrified of the consequences.

Her voice was severe now. "If I order you to lick my pussy, you will do so. If I order you to fuck me, you will do so. If I lend you to one of my associates, you will go where you are told. You don't have to like it - frankly, I couldn't care less if you like it or not, your feelings are hardly relevant - but you will follow orders without complaint. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, perfectly clear," he answered yet again, red with shame.

"Good." Now she brightened. "Oh! That reminds me! Speaking of lending you to a friend, I have invited three of my associates from work over to dinner tonight. That gives you an entire day to buy whatever you need to cook a big meal for the four of us."

She took his cheeks in her hands, pulled her towards him, kissed his lips, her moist tongue invading his mouth and seeking his, forcing itself down his throat. "Mmmm. I can taste my pussy on you. I love the taste of my juices on your tongue." She licked his lips, his wet nose, brushed the hair back from his head, an oddly tender gesture.

"And then, after you have bought what you need, I'd advise you to get some sleep sometime in the early afternoon. I have promised you to my associates for the evening." She giggled girlishly. "Valerie hasn't had a cock in two years - prices are too high, poor thing, she can't afford one of her own - and so I offered you to her for the night, baby." She giggled again. "I showed them some photos of you at work - you know, the ones from the catalogue, where you're being slowly masturbated by your last owner? - and one of the girls, Alicia, made me promise I would let her spank your cute little bottom."

She stood, and strode naked towards the bathroom. "So get some rest, baby. I need you on your best behaviour tonight."