No one ever asked Melissa what she wanted to be when she grew up, but if they had, she would not have picked sexual plaything. Her parents did not talk to her a lot, but they did not talk to each other much, either. It was just not how the family worked. She did not think about it much, either. She mostly kept to herself. She spent nearly all her time at home in her room reading, actually. She did her schoolwork, but no one seemed to care how well she did. She was generally content to make C's, which was not very hard for her. She never had a lot of ambition to go somewhere in her life. She mostly let things happen.
When her parents died it was right before she graduated from high school. She did not have any plans for what she was going to do after high school, but she did think that she would have to get some kind of job. When her parents died, the urgency of that picked up and she found that it was a lot harder to get traction than she thought it would be.
All of her parent's resources were used up just settling their affairs and getting them buried. There was enough to leave her without debts, but nothing left over. She found a secretary job, but it barely covered her small apartment and the basics it took her to live. What she wanted to do was hardly a consideration, so she never asked the question, much less answered it.
When she met Roger and moved in with him, she did not have to worry about making a living, and found herself either catering to him or again, reading. No thoughts about what she wanted to do for a living, because she did not have to. She was pretty sure he would not have let her work, anyway. When he kicked her out, she was only trying to survive, and what she wanted was even less a question.
But if she had ever asked herself the question, or if any one had asked her, she was pretty certain that she would not have said "I'd like to be something sexual for people to play with." That was, however, exactly where she found herself.
She had as little agency as she ever had, no idea what it was that she wanted, and so she was content enough to just do what others wanted her to do. Even if it did involve her being a sexual plaything. It's not that she wanted that, it's just that she did not want anything else, really.
There were parts of the job she did like, and interestingly enough, at least to her, not having to make decisions and relegating responsibility were among the parts she likes. Having orgasms, numerous orgasms, most days, was a perk as well.
The things she did not like weren't as bad as she thought they'd be. Or after a while, at least, things stopped bothering her so much. Each time Melissa was exposed to something that made her uncomfortable, she began to be more comfortable with it after it was over.
Of course, just the experience of being a sexual plaything was pretty uncomfortable at first. Especially having to be naked all the time and having to do sexual things while other people were watching. After a while, though, being naked all the time was pretty comfortable. She liked it now. She had no interest in wearing any clothes, really. And having sex in front of others was not such a big thing either. Especially since it was usually others waiting for their turn.
When she first had men take her in the ass, it was both painful and almost paralyzing. She could barely breathe. Now, it did not hurt all that much, and not for long, in any case. She had even begun to orgasm from anal fucking alone some times.
Having sex with a woman was the biggest challenge she had encountered, but having had the experience, it was not at all as repulsive as she anticipated it would be. It was really no big deal. Actually, it felt as good to her to pleasure a woman as it did to pleasure a man. And, she did like to pleasure others. It was her job, and something she could be good at, but people were so appreciative that she usually felt good about her "work."
The same was beginning to happen, days later, after her experience with Raymond. Initially it made her very uncomfortable to be in a dominant position, having power over someone else. And hurting him. Being waxed was no treat. She knew that personally. The fact that he wanted her to do all that helped, but she did not like it. She had felt sorry for him. She wanted him to feel better, not feel bad. She liked it better when he took control and fucked her mouth and anus.
Later, though, as she had time to mull it over, she started to recognize that if he wanted to be dominated and that was what turned him on, she should do what he wanted to. She started to feel better about it all. It even occurred to her that she understood liking it when she was dominated. She had never thought about being dominated, exactly, but when she did use that word, it seemed to fit. It would be some time before she would understand herself as a submissive. For now, she just knew that she liked it better when others made the decisions and she did what they wanted her to. She liked to get it "right," whatever that was, and she liked it when others appreciated her. And, if she were really honest with herself, she liked being the focus of attention. She had felt invisible for most of her life. Now, it was quite the opposite. She could not hide if she wanted to.
Of course, looking at it from a different perspective, every time she got comfortable with her role, her job here, something came up to make her uncomfortable again. She had some suspicion she would encounter discomfort again. She was beginning to understand that she would be able to adapt to them as well. That calmed her some.
These were her reflections this morning. She had gone to her spot by the water, the secluded little spot she liked, earlier and she was reading now. She was not expecting any guests today and was relaxed and feeling lazy.
It surprised her, then, when she heard the plane. She had come to recognize the sound from some ways away, and she went to the window and watched the plane approach. Normally, Ron would tell her if someone were coming, and he had said nothing today. The plane landed in the lagoon and taxied to the dock. Melissa watched as a man, tall, thin, and slightly greying, disembarked the plane. He was followed by a much younger woman in a white sundress. He gave her his hand as she stepped out of the plane. He then walked down the dock briskly, and she followed, looking a little like she was having to try to keep up.
Usually when someone arrived, they would go see Ron, visit with him, and she would wait in whatever position she was told to assume. This time, the man and the woman with him came directly to the living room where Melissa was. Usually she would be waiting in the playroom, but this time she was just on a couch reading.
She looked up, not sure what to do.
The man was dressed in grey slacks and a white shirt. The collar was open, he did not have a tie on, and his sleeves were rolled up a little, exposing his lower forearms. His face was hard to read, but it was handsome enough. He looked to be in his young to mid 50's. He looked at her with piercing grey eyes, increasing her discomfort about not knowing what to do.
The woman was much younger, probably around Melissa's age or maybe younger. Her blond hair was shoulder length. She was thin, with modest breasts unconstrained by any more than the dress itself. Her nipples were hard and protruded clearly beneath the thin material of the sundress. Her blue eyes were alert, but nothing as intense as her companion's.
Melissa felt more naked, more self-conscious of her nakedness, in the presence of this clothed young woman than she was around the man. She did not know what was going on and she had no idea what to expect. Although it was not all that long before the man spoke, it seemed like an eternity.
Actually, instead of speaking, at first he just raised an eyebrow, conveying that he was expecting something, but Melissa did not know what he wanted. She got off of the couch, and went to her knees. She parted her knees, put her hands behind her neck, and looked down. That's when he spoke.
"Stand up. I want to look at you."
Melissa stood, eyes still down. She saw him gesture with his hand that she should turn around, and did so slowly, allowing him to inspect her. It very much felt like an inspection, and for some reason she felt anxious that she might not pass. Not that she had any idea what that might mean. She was also aware of being inspected by the woman in the white dress. Though she had not said a word, she had looked very intently at Melissa when she had come in and Melissa was sure she was still looking at her, even though she did not look up to see.
She was again facing the man again, still looking down, when he spoke again.
"Not bad. I am to understand that you are a talented cocksucker, among other things. I'm curious to know if you live up to the hype."
He did not say anything else. Melissa knew that she was supposed to suck on his penis, but felt almost paralyzed with both of them watching. She forced herself to her knees in front of him, trying not to think about the young woman watching her. She was aware that she wanted to do a good job in order to please him, but she also wanted to prove herself to the young woman, somehow.
He did not move, but Melissa reached up and undid the belt to his slacks, unfastened the button and pulled down the zipper. She lowered his slacks and they collected at his feet. He made no effort to step out of them, so Melissa left them there. He had silk boxers on, and she slid them down with his trousers, exposing his penis. It was not as impressive as Ron's, but it was no slouch. It was only slightly turgid, and she stuck her tongue out and licked the very tip. His cock jumped a little. She again licked the end of it, this time lingering a little. She liked that it jerked a little with her attention and she licked the head some getting a similar response. He was beginning to stiffen, and she slipped him into her mouth a little and swirled her tongue around the head.
