Wendy

Part Three—House Rules

Morning came early for Wendy, as it turned out. I had a business meeting downtown at nine, and I wanted to be sure that Wendy understood the rules before I left, otherwise she’d find herself right back in the restraints in no time. I didn’t really want that. Sure, I got off on it. Almost any straight male would, and so would a lot of women out there, whether anyone cared to admit it or not. But I wasn’t really running an S/M house here, unless it was specifically requested, of course.

No, I’d paid a lot of money for Wendy, and I was hoping to bring her around to my way of thinking a little more gently. After all, if I’d wanted a cheap piece of ass to use up and throw away, I could have had it for the price of some crack or heroin, and an hour or two cruising the streets in a big city. No, abuse for its own sake was not my game, and I wanted to be sure Wendy didn’t earn any more of it while I was gone for the day.

So at seven o’clock, showered, shaved, and dressed in yet another of my impeccable Armani suits, I entered the bathroom of the Rose suite. Wendy was still hanging there, of course. I’m not sure if she was dozing or unconscious. Either way, she was unaware of me as I released the cuffs on her ankles. She didn’t react until I wrapped the thick bath sheet I’d picked up around her torso. I felt her tense up as I wrapped my arm around her waist firmly from behind, to support her as I released the restraints holding her arms above her head.

I spoke into her ear. “Wendy, just relax. I’m going to release you, and I’m going to carry you into the next room and put you on the bed, because I don’t think you’ll be able to walk. Then I’m going to explain the house rules to you so that you won’t get into any trouble while I’m gone today.” I was as gentle as possible. Not only was Wendy valuable merchandise, but I figured that after Juana’s unfortunate (but necessary) brutality, a little bit of my “good cop” persona would go a very, very long way with Wendy.

I settled Wendy on the bed, where she immediately curled into a semi-fetal position on her side. She wasn’t crying, which was a good sign, or maybe she was just dehydrated. I hit the intercom toggle. “Brian, send breakfast to the Rose suite around noon. Lots of liquids, nothing too heavy. Our new girl hasn’t eaten or had anything to drink since yesterday sometime.” I didn’t wait for an answer. There was always someone manning the kitchen between five am and midnight or so.

Instead I settled myself in a chair next to the king size bed, which was a feminine-looking, net-canopied affair, complete with rose silk duvet and gold brocade throw pillows. Every woman who used this room came to love it. Wendy hadn’t even noticed it yet, which was surprising to me. Usually poor girls had quite a hunger for material objects, and I was hoping Wendy’s lack of interest didn’t mean she was one of those religious freaks who disdained all the worldly comforts. All things considered, it was a distinct possibility, although I wasn’t too worried. I’ve always loved a challenge, which is why I’m so successful.

“Wendy, are you listening? If you are, I want you to tell me why you think you’re here. You can speak freely without any fear of punishment.” I needed to know just what level of innocence I was dealing with. She took her time to answer, sneaking looks at me beneath those long brown lashes. I was startled all over again by the bright turquoise of her eyes.

Finally she answered. “I think you must be my punishment from God. I didn’t want to get married. I wanted to go to college. So God has punished me by making me into a slave. I’ll probably have to be some sort of harlot. I’ll go to hell and it’s my own fault for not honoring my father and for rebelling against his wishes.”

This was an interesting viewpoint, but at least she had a firm grasp of the essential facts. It was more than I’d expected. And she wasn’t hysterical, although maybe she was just too tired to manage it. “That’s correct, in a way. Although I hope in time you’ll come to see that this is not a punishment from God. But you’re right that I’ve bought you to be one of my “harlots,” although I would like you to use the term “ladies” instead. There is no shame in prostitution, although you may have trouble accepting that right now. And although I expect you to pay back the money I spend on you, once that’s done you may go free.”

“If you do well here, you may even be able to attend college classes during the day, even before you have paid me back. In fact, I require it, once I am sure I can trust you. You see, I have no serious interest in ignorant slaves, nor do my friends who spend their nights here. We prefer cultured, intelligent women who love every aspect of sexuality just as much as we do ourselves, and who fuck us completely willingly.” Wendy flinched at the profanity, but she’d get used to it soon enough. After what she’d just been through, I was surprised she had even reacted. Clearly, she was very sensitive. But I figured I’d forge ahead while I had her attention.

“That’s the broad overview. Now, down to the specifics. It is possible to run away from here. It’s been done. But it’s no use going to the local police. In fact, they’re regular guests here, and if they pick you up, they’ll return you to me. They certainly won’t be filing any charges against me. The best you can hope for, if you leave, is to end up in a shelter, on Welfare. I hope you won’t try it. It’s really quite pleasant here, especially compared to that life.”

“As far as day-to-day existence for you right now, I want you to understand two things. First of all, any disobedience will be severely punished, as you have already learned. Secondly, you will more or less set your own pace in your sexual education, which I will personally oversee. Nobody will ask you to do anything that you haven’t already done with me, nor will they help you experiment without my permission. They know I have a taste for being the first, you see. And I trust everyone here completely. So you are safe sexually until you choose to try something, with me.”

“However, there will be no attempt to shield you from reality. You may expect to see, hear, and smell sex all around you, at any moment of the day, as you go through your duties. Even in the kitchen, which is where you’ll be assigned to work during your training period. Everyone works here, you see. Especially if they’re not contributing to the actual business, all my ladies are expected to assist with the housekeeping. So even if nobody touches you, you will be learning every moment what is expected of you.”

“As I said, you may proceed at your own pace with your training. But it’s only fair to make you aware of the consequences of moving too slowly. Let me explain our financial system here, to you. You are expected to pay back what I paid for you, which was $4,600. You also pay for your room, board, clothing and supplies. Housekeeping work is rewarded at $10 an hour, which seems like a good wage until you realize that your daily bill in a luxurious establishment like this comes to $250 a day. So you see, if you’re not fucking, you’re sinking further and further into debt.”

Wendy looked terrified now. She was sitting up, back against the headboard, and she was listening intently to every word. She didn’t seem confused. That was good. Maybe there was a mind under all that religious nonsense. We were almost done with the nitty-gritty details, and I was glad to see I wasn’t going to have to repeat myself. I find just explaining it all to be tedious enough.

“Now, if you are fucking, or at least learning, the reality isn’t nearly so grim. Even training is paid handsomely, as I have a definite taste for innocent virgins like you. Your first fuck is worth $1000. The first time you come when I fuck you, I’ll credit $2000 towards your account. Your first decent blowjob is another $1000, as is the first time I watch you fuck another woman to orgasm. And when you let me fuck your ass, it’s $3000. There are other, more specialized things that you may also earn bonuses for, if you find you enjoy them during training. We’ll discuss those as they come up.”

“After your training, you’ll service whoever wants you, to the tune of $500 a night credited to your account.” Never mind what I charge, that’s how much of it goes to the girls. “So if you learn quickly and work hard, you can leave here in as little as a month. Although, let me explain that it all has to be completely willing. If you’re not enjoying it, it doesn’t count. So if you do manage to get out of debt in a month, you’ll be a naturally talented little whore, and I seriously doubt you’ll even want to leave.”

I had one more thing to point out, just to put it into perspective for Wendy. “I want you to consider, Wendy, that you would do all these things for a husband, Mormon or not. And a man like your father would have chosen for you, a man like that wouldn’t necessarily care about your pleasure. He certainly would not take any precaution to keep you from having baby after baby, year after year, until you were so worn out that all you wanted to do was to crawl into a ditch and die. I think you know that, don’t you? Once you can get over your religious objections, I am sure you’ll thank me for bringing you here. Now, do you have any questions? You may ask anything you wish.”

“What if I never feel ready to do all these sexual things at all? Do I have to stay here forever? I could never pay you back at $10 an hour. I already owe you $4,850 just for today. My beliefs tell me I must honor my obligation, because my father gave me to you. I will try to obey you as I would a husband. But I believe that to do these things, without marriage, is a sin. I don’t know if I can do it. Will I be a slave here until I die?”

Wendy was smart. Good. “No, if you truly are unable to bring yourself to do any of this, after a month, we’ll move you to quarters in the attic, and drop your bill down to $40 a day. But you’ll be doing heavy housekeeping work, 10 hours a day, six days a week, and you won’t be living in luxury, in fact it will be quite the contrary, although you’ll get a dollar raise every six months. So it will be possible, that way, to pay off your indebtedness eventually.”

“However, Wendy, I want you to withold judgement about what you believe you can and can’t do, for a few days. Help Brian in the kitchen, watch, and learn. For this month, it is expected that you will sleep until noon. Please be in the kitchen helping Brian by 1pm. There is a nightgown in the closet, along with some clothes. You are expected to wear whatever I tell you to, and obey any non-sexual command given to you by anyone in the house.”

“Brian is your supervisor, and you may ask him any questions that come to mind. If you refuse an order, talk back to anyone, or are caught trying to leave the grounds, you will be placed back in the restraints until I feel like personally punishing you. You will not be punished for honest mistakes, but rebellion is not tolerated. Do you have any other questions?”

“Just one. May I have my Scriptures with me?”

“No. I am sorry, Wendy, but the one thing absolutely forbidden in my house is any sort of religious literature. I expect you to overcome your unhealthy reliance on religion, and learn to think for yourself. You may read anything else you like in the library on the third floor, after your workday is complete. Just so you know, all your belongings have been disposed of anyway. My staff tells me you had no photographs or mementos, and none of your clothing was appropriate.”

“I will try to obey, sir.” Wendy repeated this affirmation in a resigned tone of voice. “Please be patient with me.”

“I will, Wendy. And you may call me James. Watch and learn, and remember you only have a month, at most, to decide.” I stood and walked towards the door to my suite.

“Yes, sir. I mean, James.” Wendy blushed slightly as she met my gaze, peering up at me through her thick lashes with head slightly bowed. I took it as a good sign. I still had a half an hour before I needed to leave for my meeting, though, so once I was back in my suite, I settled into my chair and flipped on the cameras that would show me Wendy’s every move.

Wendy was still sitting on the bed. Her face wore the look of one having a terrible internal struggle. She bowed her head and I saw her lips move, presumably in prayer. Then Wendy rose from the bed and entered the bathroom. I followed, switching cameras. She walked through, flinching slightly as her gaze fell on the shower. She entered the walk-in closet, still clutching the rose bath sheet around her body. It reached from her chest nearly to the floor, as she was quite petite.

Wendy gazed at the nightgown on its satin hanger. It was cut modestly, floor length, with a high neck and long sleeves, very much like a little girl’s flannel Victorian nightie. It even had ruffles at the neck and sleeve cuffs, and a button placket down the front. However, it was made of a completely sheer fabric, in the same soft shade of rose as the suite, and the buttons were gold. If one were to look closely, they might even observe that the buttons had been relief-cast with depictions of sexual positions from the Kama Sutra. I knew it, having selected the nightgown myself, but Wendy did not notice as she stood there, gnawing her lower lip in hesitation.

“I promised to obey. I have to wear what James says I should wear.” Wendy spoke her thought aloud. She hesitantly removed the bath sheet wrapped around her petite form, folding it carefully and bending to lay it gently on the floor. I got a nice shot of her cunt and ass from behind as she did so. Her knees didn’t bend, indicating she was quite flexible. Yet another good sign.

Wendy straightened up and reached for the hanger, carefully unbuttoning the nightie and slipping it down. The curtain rods were hung a bit high for her, having been designed to accommodate any sort of exotic costume, including old-fashioned dresses with long skirts and trains. I enjoyed the arch of Wendy’s back and the way her breasts moved as she stretched a bit to reach. I was, of course, stroking my cock as I watched, having been aroused since I entered the bathroom to release Wendy from the restraints. I’d tried to conceal it while playing “good cop.” I glanced at my watch. Twenty minutes.

Still visible on the big screen TV, Wendy gathered up the nightgown and slipped it over her head, floundering a bit to find the arm openings. I hit my intercom switch as I watched her fumble with the buttons, finally fastening the nightgown, and walk back through to the bedroom, where she stretched out on her back, on top of the bedspread. The thermostat in the suite was still set at 85, and I made a mental note to leave it there so she’d have no need to crawl under the covers. I spoke into the intercom. “Brynn, I need you in my suite, please.”

Onscreen, Wendy tossed and turned a bit. The sheer nightgown was slipping against the silk sheets, sliding upward almost to her thighs. Wendy kept sliding around a bit as she tried to find a comfortable position. Then, as I watched, stunned but pleased, she began sliding quite deliberately on top of the silk. She seemed to enjoy the way it felt against her skin.

The nightgown was still sliding higher and higher, and soon Wendy’s bare ass was wriggling delightfully against rose colored silk. Her knees bent, pulled up, and spread slightly as her ass wiggled, heels digging in for traction. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. This was my little Mormon girl? What else had she wanted to do, besides attending college? What would she be like, once the old habits of guilt and shame wore off?

Wendy’s hands moved guiltily, furtively, to her breasts, and she began caressing them, paying special attention to the lower curves, and occasionally rolling her nipples gently between her fingers. She did this guiltily, but with the unmistakable air of one who is familiar with her own body. No wonder the girl thought she was being punished for her sins. It was strictly forbidden for Mormons to masturbate. She must have been afraid of damnation for quite some time now!

My suite door had opened and shut unnoticed, and Brynn, needing no instructions, had knelt in front of my chair, unbuttoning her shirt to expose her breasts as she waited for me. She was already dressed for her 10am class at Boise State University, where she was majoring in Economics. A stunning redhead with small, firm breasts, today she was wearing a green button front shirt (well, sort of wearing it) and a black pleated skirt which barely covered her pert little ass. She wore no bra or panties, and as she waited on her knees, she raised the skirt, lying backward and resting her head on the floor so that her body was arched at an angle that looked like it should hurt. I knew it didn’t, though.

Brynn did Yoga and Pilates every day, and as she spread her thighs wide and began to toy with her pussy, I was impressed once again with her gracefulness. Brynn’s pussy was waxed and completely hairless, and I watched as one finger gently circled her clit, occasionally dipping down to her cunt and bringing some moisture up to rub on the sensitive button. Her other hand moved over her exposed breasts much as Wendy was doing on the big screen.

No, wait. Wendy now had both hands between her legs! Two fingers were plunging in and out of her dripping cunt even as I watched, stunned. The other hand rubbed somewhat awkwardly up, down, and around her clit. I noticed she never went near her ass, though, and resolved to make her aware of it as one of my first priorities. I could hear her panting, moaning slightly, but also whispering, “no, I should stop. I shouldn’t do this,” without much conviction in her voice.

Even as I watched, stunned, she screamed slightly, shoving her fingers deep in her cunt as her other hand rubbed frantically at her clit. I grinned as I watched her shudder and gasp, finally going still, eyes staring up at the ceiling, still panting quite hard. Her hands were dripping with moisture when she finally removed them from her pussy and just laid there, legs spread-eagled. Her eyes were half shut and I was certain she’d be asleep in minutes. I hoped she remembered to eat her breakfast when she woke.

Below me, Brynn was still stroking her pussy as slowly as she could bear, although I noticed she’d gotten a bit faster despite her best efforts. Her pussy was so wet, there was moisture dripping down her thighs and onto the carpet below her. I took pity on Brynn at last. Kneeling, I moved her hand away and spread her pussy lips with my own hands. It took maybe three gentle swipes of my long tongue at her engorged clitoris, and then Brynn, too, was shuddering with delight. It never took her long to come, which was why I called her when I was in a hurry.

“On the bed, Brynn, quickly.” She obeyed, sliding her ass down to the edge and raising her legs. I stood at the edge of the bed , removed my suit jacket, and allowed my pants to fall around my ankles. I lifted her ankles, placing them over my shoulders. One more glance at my watch confirmed I had only five minutes until I needed to leave. It was a shame.

I sheathed myself to the hilt in Brynn’s warm, tight cunt, and began to thrust quickly, running my hands up and down her long, flexible legs as I did so. She licked her lips sensually, writhing slightly, hands still playing with the nipples on her bouncing tits. Brynn then began encouraging me, thrusting her hips and gasping, “fuck me, James, shove your big dick up my cunt as hard as you can. It feels so good.” I was more than happy to oblige her.

Brynn came again just as I did, screaming loudly. "“God, James, I love your COCK!” Wendy should have been able to hear that in the next room, although a glance at the screen confirmed that she was asleep, nightgown still disarranged, giving me a great view of her pussy and light-brown pubic hair, still damp and glistening between her splayed legs.