Luisa finds that once is not enough when it comes to sex with her brother
******************
I reluctantly got out of Mike's Bentley and submissively let him lead me by the hand to the huge mansion. There at the door, Mr. George Hathaway greeted us smiling, and trained all my life to smile at men as I was, I smiled right back, despite my deep sense of foreboding.
There was no question I had been in this house before. I remember the foyer perfectly, just as it still was. I knew what the next room looked like too, even before I saw it. Something horrible had happened here which had caused me to lose three months of memories. I was still in analysis, but even hypnosis could not help me to reconstruct the memories I had so strongly repressed.
I could ask my mother, but she and my father had tragically been killed in a car accident around the time of my memory loss. Everyone had assumed my memory loss revolved around the sudden and unexpected loss of my parents, but now, seeing this house, the red barn, and the sinister road leading up to the house, I had my doubts.
Beth was there, in her role of hostess for her sugardaddy, and she greeted me happily. She led me off to an antechamber where I discovered Gayle and Susan, too. "Do you know about the Hathaway parties?" Gayle asked.
"No, not really. Want to clue me in?" I replied.
"She's the new girl and probably will be the one tonight, don't you think?" Susan said, and Beth glared at her.
"You know it's not like that. It's just as likely to be you, or Gayle, or me, or one of the others, as it is to be Luisa," Beth said, almost spitting her words out as she glared at Susan.
"Want to clue me in?" I asked. "Please?"
"Oh, it's a little game the men play. Don't worry about it," Beth said.
"They decide on who they want to enjoy tonight, and then they hold a lottery with the chosen woman as the prize. The winner gets to enjoy her for an hour," Susan said.
"What? What exactly do you mean by 'enjoy'?" I asked.
"What do you think it means?" Susan said, sarcasm dripping from her voice.
"They can't do that! You can't just give away a woman as a prize, even only for an hour! That would make her a prostitute!" I said.
"No money is involved. No money means it's all legal and above board," Gayle helpfully added.
"That changes nothing," I said. "It's still disgusting."
"You've got that right," Gayle replied.
"The woman has to be willing," Beth said. "Nobody is forced to do anything against her will."
"Well, that's a relief!" I said. I meant it too, of course. "But really, the whole idea is offensive beyond belief! Don't you agree?"
"The thing is, the woman always seems to be willing. I know I was," Gayle said. "I predict you will be, too."
"Oh, I don't think so," I said.
"Your Sugardaddy Mike will insist, I'm afraid," Beth explained. A shiver ran down my spine.
***********
I thought back to the only time I had ever had sex when it was kind of against my will. It was with my older brother, Mathew. We were at 'home,' which had become out Uncle's house after the death of our parents, and it was the summer before I left for college.
To be fair, I had been teasing Mathew with my sartorial choices all week, and perhaps there's only so much teasing a man can take? I had a little sexual experience, but not much, due mostly to a short lived, but intense, high school romance with a heartthrob named Craig. The end of it was bitter, and I salved my crushed ego (the guy had left me for Marybeth, of all people!) by having sex with most of Craig's friends, one after the other, as each one asked me out.
That tactic, of sleeping with each of Craig's friends who wanted to have me, one after the other, had three effects: First, It restored my feelings of being desirable to men (Craig had been controlling and he had made me feel ugly and worthless); Second, it drove Craig up the wall, and nothing Marybeth could do for him managed to assuage him; and Third, it made everyone think I was easy to get into bed, or much worse, a slut.
The first two effects were great. The third effect, not so much. One then begins again afresh in college, however, especially if one goes to college out of state, as I did. Each freshman co-ed is a sexual
tabula rasa
, and a girl has a second chance to illustrate what kind of girl she is. So, I figured if I behaved in college, the high school slut reputation would just be a bad memory. It worked, too.
After our parents had died, during my early adolescence, my older brother Mathew and I moved in with our uncle. He had never married, and we assumed he was probably gay. It turned out he was very much heterosexual, just with strange sexual tastes. My brother never learned this, but I certainly did. Fortunately, while our uncle was sexually unusual, he was also completely correct, and I was both his niece and underage, so he left me alone.
So how do I know just how strange he is? I promised never to tell, but let's just put it this way: My uncle likes to be watch, and to be watched, okay?
That summer before college, however, I was still known locally as a slut, and every guy in town, it seemed, wanted to date me, not so much due to my sparkling personality and tremendous personal charm, but because they wanted to lay me. I had also developed the reputation of being, to put it crudely (and lots of the guys did, in fact, put it crudely), a great fuck. To put it simply, I had learned exactly how to please many a man. I was the submissive yet responsive great fuck of their wet dreams.
