The Oak Street Method

by Emily Tilton

  “Fred, Mary is masturbating,” Paul said then, surprise palpable in his voice. Jane’s attention had been diverted by Wendy and Frankie so thoroughly that she hadn’t even seen that Mary’s hand had indeed crept stealthily around her hip. Jane could sympathize very thoroughly: she felt sure that Mary had only meant to rub away the burning itch of arousal, for a secret moment, but had then found herself utterly unable to stop.

  “Mary Wood,” Fred said. “Put your hands on your head and come here this instant.”

  Mary whirled around, mouth open and eyes wide. Her hands flew first in front of her pussy and then, hesitantly and slowly, started to rise.

  “You heard me. Hands on your head, young lady. You’re going to show all of us how you like to play with yourself, and then that little pussy of yours is going to be inspected just like Frankie’s and Wendy’s.”

  “Daddy!” Mary said in a shocked whisper.

  Frankie had emitted a gasp, and Wendy had given a startled cry, because her mommy had touched the wet spot as Fred delivered his command. The word pussy, coming from the mouth of one of the Oak Street daddies, had clearly had an electric effect on all the girls.

  Laura pulled down Frankie’s panties, then, without further ceremony. “You’re wet, too, aren’t you, Frankie?” she asked in a sympathetic tone that seemed to startle her older ward. The girl gave a little sob as her mommy’s fingers quested between her legs for the answer. “Oh, yes, honey. Very wet. Shh. Mommy is going to make you come, now.”

  “You, too, Wendy,” Wilma said, reaching up for the straps of her ward’s bathing suit, to strip them down off her shoulders and tug the suit down to Wendy’s knees. “All three of you are going to come. We know you’re all good girls, really, even if you have to be spanked sometimes.”

  Chapter Seven

  Silence reigned in the Woods’ living room for a while, then, except for soft, wet sounds and hushed cries. Wilma and Laura turned Wendy and Frankie around so that they could watch Mary masturbate while their mommies gave them the same pleasure with knowing fingers.

  Wendy didn’t know how it had all happened. Every time she tried to think it through—to remember about the book and the closed door of Frankie’s bedroom, about the spanking and hearing Frankie cry out from next door—her mind refused to work, and instead made her focus on the sight of Mary and the feeling of Mommy’s fingers between her legs.

  Mary had a whipped bottom, too, now. Mr. Wood had made her bend over the same high-backed chair where he had punished her, with her left elbow now on the seat and her right hand between her spread legs, to show everyone how naughty she could be. She had a pretty whipped bottom, disciplined as Wendy and Frankie had been disciplined the day before. All of them had received stern lessons on their bare backsides, where girls needed to feel their daddies’ firm hands, to learn how to behave themselves properly.

  Wendy’s cries became less hushed, because her mommy’s fingers were so very knowing: they seemed to know more even than Wendy’s did, and the pleasure they gave—forced, and with the forcing all the more intense—seemed even greater than what Wendy herself had given her aching virginal pussy the night before.

  The sounds coming from Frankie and Mary grew in volume and intensity, then, too, as if Wendy’s friends’ arousal were rising in sympathy with hers.

  Mr. Wood said, ending the long pause in what Wendy felt sure must be their first special lesson, “That’s it, girls. You’re doing fine. Don’t be ashamed to let your mommy and daddy know how good it feels to have your pussy rubbed.”

  “Girls,” said Mr. Kimball, “it’s time for you to learn how to do something very important.”

  Wendy wanted to ask what the important thing was, but her mouth couldn’t really make words, and besides, her daddy and Mr. Wood made clear at least what kind of thing it was, because they both started to get undressed.

  Wendy looked wildly at Frankie, and found her friend staring back. Then, as if unable to help themselves, their cheeks scarlet, they turned back to where their daddies had quickly become completely naked.

  “Look at those big cocks, girls,” said Mrs. Wood. “Go ahead and come for us, so that you can learn to suck them.”

  Mary came first, her face turning from her own daddy to Mr. Kimball and back, as the two tall, well-built men held their hard penises in their hands, pumping them gently as they watched the three girls receive their pleasure. The sight and the sensation overcame Wendy, then, and she shuddered out her climax under her mommy’s caress, nearly falling down at the weakness of her knees. Then Frankie cried out wordlessly, and Wendy opened her eyes just in time to see her friend lose her balance and fall into Mrs. Wood’s sheltering arms.

  “We’ll inspect Mary while Wendy and Frankie give their first blowjobs,” said Mr. Wood. “Then Mary will help with the cock-sucking, and we’ll come on all our good girls’ faces.”

  “Sounds like a fine first lesson to me,” Wendy’s daddy put in. “Wilma?”

  “Perfect,” said Wendy’s mommy. “Laura and I will get undressed, too. We’ll take them into the bathroom to clean them up and shave them, afterwards. They can have another quick lesson while they kiss our cunts for the first time.”

  If Wendy had felt disoriented before, she could hardly find a single organized thought, now. How could the Oak Street daddies and mommies be saying these things and doing these things, when the girls had never even been allowed to be together with the door closed, before? And how could it seem so terribly wrong and shameful, and yet make her yearn this way? Make her flow between her legs again, so soon after she had come under her mommy’s fingers?

  Mr. Wood and Wendy’s daddy sat side by side on one of the couches, their big penises standing straight up. They made Mary come and stand a few feet in front of them, and bend over to take hold of her ankles. Then Frankie’s mommy led her to her daddy.

  “Kneel down, honey. This is your daddy’s cock. You’re going to get to know it very well, now.”

  Before Wendy knew what was happening, her mommy had her by the wrist, too, and pulled her forward to where her daddy sat, pumping the hard shaft of his manhood.

  “Kneel, Wendy,” Mommy said, and drew Wendy gently downward until she had obeyed, and her face hovered only a few inches away from Daddy’s uncovered lap, between the strong thighs he had spread so that she could kneel where she must, to have her special lesson. “Look at your daddy’s big penis. It’s hard for you. Look. Frankie is kissing her daddy’s cock now. Isn’t that sweet? See, it’s not very difficult. You go ahead and kiss, too. Look Daddy right in the eye, to show him how grateful you are that he wants to put his penis in your mouth.”

  Wendy looked up into her daddy’s handsome face, still trying desperately to figure out what to think about the way life on Oak Street seemed to have changed so very much in such a very short while. As she had raised her eyes to his, taking them from the alarming size of the cock she knew she must now please, she had worried that his face would be stern and severe. Instead, though, her daddy gave her a reassuring smile, that somehow told her that he knew she needed this, as shameful and unexpected as it seemed.

  And as she kissed, she realized—her first coherent idea in several minutes—that she did need this. Strange and new as it felt, she needed to kiss the cock of this kind man who had taken her into his home. She wanted to make him feel so very good. She wanted to learn how to please him, and Mommy, and Mr. and Mrs. Wood, and even anyone else who her daddy said she should please.

  The daddies taught them very gently. Sometimes they put a hand on Frankie’s and Wendy’s heads to teach them how to move their mouths up and down, and sometimes they told them to look into their daddy’s eyes. They had Mary come closer, still bent over, so they could inspect her pussy and bottom with their fingers as well as their eyes, while the older girls sucked their cocks.

  Soon after that, they told Mary it was time for her cock-sucking lesson, and she sucked Mr. Kimball’s cock while Wendy sucked Mr. Wood’s, and Frankie, in
the middle, learned to kiss a man’s balls, performing the task on both daddies. Then it was Wendy’s turn in the middle, and the tickliness of the hairs on the daddies’ scrotums nearly made her sneeze, but she could tell that Mr. Wood and her daddy liked the way she did it, and how quickly she learned. Finally it was Mary’s turn in the middle, and then the daddies had them sit back on their heels while they pumped their hard penises, until the semen came out and spattered all over the three girls’ faces.

  “Such good girls,” said Wendy’s daddy. “Thank you. Now that you’re having special lessons, you’ll come to your mommy and daddy’s bedroom to do that—and what your mommies are going to show you, too. When you started to play with your panties down, it was the sign that you were ready to do all sorts of big-girl things.”

  Then the mommies, who were naked now, came back. Wendy blushed furiously to see her mommy that way, but Mrs. Kimball and Mrs. Wood got them off their knees and led them to the Woods’ big master bathroom with the Jacuzzi tub and the double-headed shower.

  One by one the girls were taken into the shower and had their faces washed, so that the daddies’ semen, which had become so sticky, flowed away. It felt funny to be naked with her friends and the mommies, but it also felt deliciously naughty, especially when Mommy rubbed Wendy between her legs with the warm, soapy washcloth.

  “It’s time for you to learn to shave your pussies, girls,” said Mrs. Wood, taking from a drawer a little clipper that looked like it belonged in a hair salon.

  “Why?” asked Mary, her cheeks quite pink.

  “Because that’s the way your daddies like you to look down there,” replied Wendy’s mommy. “And it won’t be too long before you start having sex with other men, also—and those men like a bare pussy, too.”

  “What?” Wendy whispered, feeling rather faint.

  “That’s why you girls are having special lessons, now that you’ve started playing big-girl games,” Mommy said matter-of-factly. “We’re going to train you for wealthy men to take your virginities and enjoy you. The other girls on the street will also be trained, once they’re ready the way you are.”

  The girls’ jaws had dropped, and their breathing had become ragged, but none of them seemed able to speak, until at last Mary said, “Why aren’t your pussies bare?”

  Mrs. Wood smiled. “Mommies are allowed to keep some of their hair down there. But Daddy makes me trim it. See?”

  Wendy looked along with Mary and Frankie as Mrs. Wood spread her legs a little to show them how she really had just a neatly trimmed triangle of fur above the hood of her clit.

  “You’ll learn to kiss that pussy later, girls,” said Wendy’s mommy. “Wealthy women also like to have young ladies to please them. Now hurry up into the bedroom, and put the big towels on the bed. We’ll shave you there.”

  The mommies did shave Frankie, Wendy, and Mary in the bedroom, one by one, while the other two girls stood by, watching and learning how to do it: first the scissors and then the clippers, and then the tweezers as each girl yelped in turn as her mommy took care of the little hairs between her bottom-cheeks.

  They called the daddies in to see what the girls looked like with bare pussies, and the daddies approved greatly.

  “So sweet,” said Mr. Wood.

  “The men who deflower you girls are going to be very lucky guys,” said Wendy’s daddy.

  Wendy felt her brow crinkle, and she darted a look at Frankie, then at Mary.

  “You’re not going to do that, Daddy?” Mary asked Mr. Wood, very shyly.

  “No, honey,” Mr. Wood replied. “The men who buy you will be the ones to do that. Mr. Kimball and I will just use your mouths until then.”

  “But tonight you’ll come to Mommy and Daddy’s room to watch us fuck,” said Mrs. Wood.

  “And you’ll come to our room, Wendy,” said Mrs. Kimball. “It’s important for you girls to see what fucking is like when a daddy knows how to make a mommy feel submissive, the way she should.”

  Wendy found she had to put out a hand to a nearby dresser to steady herself. As she and Frankie and Mary exchanged highly ambiguous glances, the two mommies sat down on the big bed from which the towels had now been removed. Giggling a little, they scooted themselves so they lay on their backs, side by side, with their legs spread very wide, and overlapping a little, so that all Wendy could see of the beautiful women—her raven-haired mommy and the golden-haired Mrs. Wood—were their neatly trimmed pussies, both glistening. Mrs. Wood’s, in and out of which she was running naughty fingers, was lighter in color than Mrs. Kimball’s. Wendy’s mommy seemed to like to rub circles around her clitoris.

  “Go on, girls,” her daddy said then. “Make your mommies feel good.”

  “Come kiss Mommy, Frankie,” said Mrs. Wood, her tone sounding a little strained. “Mary, you kiss Mommy’s mouth, while Frankie kisses me between my legs.”

  “You too, Wendy,” Mrs. Kimball said in a very husky voice. “Right where I have my fingers.”

  “Girls,” said Mr. Wood to the hesitating trio. “Do as your mommies say, or we’ll have to spank you.”

  Mary went, and then Frankie went. Wendy’s tummy fluttered as she watched her best friend lap tentatively at Mrs. Wood’s vagina.

  “Wendy,” her daddy said in a warning voice.

  She took a step forward, biting her lip at the sound of her mommy’s moan of anticipation. Suddenly her reluctance seemed to change to its opposite. That moan: she moaned like that, too. Mommy needed it, and Wendy needed it. She climbed on the bed, and she looked at the pretty pussy where Mommy’s fingers played. She smelled the very special smell, and she bent her head, and she kissed right there where Mommy needed it the most.

  Chapter Eight

  In Tom’s ear, Serena said, “We’re flagging Wendy. She’ll most likely go up for auction tomorrow, if there’s the interest we expect on the darknet. Charlotte’s decided to put Frankie and Mary up together, in a week.”

  So soon, Tom thought, as he chewed a bite of perfectly medium-rare steak. Life on Oak Street was definitely very helpful when it came to learning to grill. We just started her special lessons, and now she’ll belong to a billionaire by tomorrow night.

  Well, at least the master plan called for more special lessons at home on Oak Street, once Wendy’s owner had taken her virginity. That would be at his discretion, though, of course: he might want to send Wendy straight to the Institute itself for more serious training. Her erotic future was far from determined, though it would be extremely memorable and fulfilling for a girl exploring her submission for the first time in any case.

  Life on Oak Street would continue, though, Tom felt sure: a new girl would arrive to assume the Kimball name and her pre-sexual training—the special finishing polish of suburban life that represented the genius of the project—would begin. Tom would spank her when necessary, and he and Wilma, with the help and guidance of the assessment team, would make sure that she didn’t become aware of the other Oak Street girls’ punishments until Tom and Wilma thought her ready. As they had thought Wendy ready, when the decision was taken the previous week to put Best Friends in Fred Wood’s desk, and leave the drawer open just a bit.

  By that time, if things developed according to the master plan, it would be Ginnie Samuels and Heather London who were having special lessons, naked with their mommies and daddies.

  Serena spoke again. “We think you should tell Wendy now, before bed, and then take her upstairs.”

  Tom watched Wendy, dressed now in her Saturday jeans and well-filled white top, bring the pound cake from the kitchen out onto the deck. Wilma, listening to Serena on her own earpiece, had her eyes fixed in the same direction: sweet Wendy, their ward, soon to get all the sex and discipline she needed so badly.

  Wilma turned to him with a wistful smile on her face. They weren’t actually married—Institute trainers and assessors rarely did that, having seen close up both the benefits of monogamy and its pitfalls when translated into the fossilized cultural
structure of marriage. They had willingly coupled up, like all the Oak Street mommies and daddies, for the purposes of the project, and Tom hoped right now the partnership would last through several more young women’s finishing for auction.

  Wendy put the pound cake on the table, smiling shyly at her mommy and daddy, but also nervously. Tom didn’t need any of the assessors’ mind-reading tricks to know what she was thinking about.

  “Pumpkin, are you anxious about watching Mommy and Daddy fuck?” he said in a voice meant to reassure her while also arousing her with the startling, taboo filthiness of the words.

  Wendy nodded, biting her lip a little.

  “It’s okay to be nervous, sweetie,” said Wilma. “All you have to do is watch, tonight. You did so much more at your special lesson, didn’t you? You sucked Daddy’s and Mr. Wood’s penises and you kissed Mommy’s vagina so well.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Wendy said, her mouth twisting to the side a little.

  They ate a few bites of cake in silence.

  “What’s worrying you, pumpkin?” Tom asked.

  As if she had been longing for a chance to say it, Wendy answered, “Are you going to spank Mommy tonight, Daddy?” Her eyes went from Tom to Wilma, searching for an answer.

  Tom smiled. His pumpkin had only begun to come to terms with her feelings about spanking the previous night. Those emotions and desires clearly seemed to her more troubling even than her feelings about the kind of sex to which the girls had been exposed in mild form, in movies and TV shows—books even, for Wilma’s curriculum for the Oak Street girls included modern novels, with naughty bits, like those of Vonnegut and Pynchon.

  In his ear, Serena said, “You answer, Wilma.”

  Smoothly, Wilma did. “Yes, sweetheart. I have a spanking coming tonight.” Wendy’s eyes went wide, and she swallowed hard.

  Tom suppressed his own smile, in order to look grave. Time for some enjoyable improvisation.