JENNY: A Novel of Sexual Enslavement

by C. A. Tessler

  He began by simply asking her what had happened. When she told him that she had spent two hours with her hands bound behind her, he paused to reconsider his line of questioning. Bondage was a delicate subject at DiMarcos, one that he would discuss with her as soon as he could. At the moment, he was more interested in his slave's motivation.

  "Why did you ask him to bind you?"

  "Because I thought I wouldn't be able to get him down my throat without him pulling me down on him, master."

  What Jenny had done was beyond what even Maurice would have asked of her. He was puzzled. Why was she trying so hard? Did her agreement with him mean so much that she was willing to go to extremes? Perhaps, thought Maurice, and the thought pleased him, but he knew that his slave was an intelligent girl. There might be another reason.

  "When did you decide to ask Eric to bind you, slave?" He was going to ask whether it had been a spontaneous decision, but he didn't want to suggest an answer.

  "Before lunch, master."

  "Before Eric arrived."

  "Yes, master."

  "And what made you think of it then?"

  Jenny answered truthfully, but evasively, not wanting to drag Janet into the conversation.

  "I heard somewhere that it might work, master."

  "From the blond slave?" asked Maurice. He knew that it was unlikely Jenny could have heard it anywhere else, unless she picked it up before she became a slave.

  Damn, she thought. "Yes, master."

  "So you asked the blond slave about getting Eric down your throat and she suggested bondage. Is that right?"

  "Yes, master."

  Maurice was slightly miffed that a slave was making suggestions to Jenny that he himself wouldn't make. Apparently, Janet had the upper hand on Jenny. He knew, though, how valuable the developing friendship between the two slaves could be. Janet's intrusion into his domain had been minor, and probably unintentional, and he put it aside.

  "So the blond slave suggested bondage and you decided to follow her advise. But you didn't have to. Why did you?"

  Jenny was happy that the questioning had reverted back to her, but she didn't want to answer this question. Do I have to tell him everything? She reminded herself that she had promised to be truthful with her master. My freedom is gone whether I tell him the truth or not, she reasoned. I may as well tell him.

  "I had an idea, master, sort of, I mean not really an idea, just a thought." Then, belatedly, "master."

  "And what was that, slave?" Maurice asked, purposely using slave as a form of address.

  "I thought that if I tried to avoid enjoying sex while I was here that I might learn to never enjoy it again, master."

  Maurice was quite startled by this statement. He had never, in seven years of training slaves, considered this argument, nor had he ever heard any trainer mention it. Yet it was so simple, so obvious. It also gave him the opportunity to gently discuss bondage with his slave.

  "And did you enjoy being bound?" he asked.

  "Yes, master, at least some of it, master."

  "Which part didn't you enjoy?"

  "The part where he forced himself down my throat."

  "Well, that's not surprising. Being bound and forced to do something, even something you want to do, can be unpleasant. I'm happy that you're so anxious to please me that you are willing to try something like bondage. Trying hard like that is the highest compliment a slave can pay her master. But tell me, do you think it's possible for a girl to learn to enjoy bondage?"

  Jenny thought not, in most cases, and said so.

  "I must warn you, then," said Maurice, "that it is possible. I never ask a slave to experiment with bondage because she may learn to like it so much that sex without bondage becomes difficult. Also, there are customers who will interpret a slave's willingness to be bound as a masochistic tendency. There aren't very many such customers, but it has happened that a slave who asked to be bound was immediately spanked. DiMarcos cannot fault the customer in such cases. Do you understand that?"

  "Yes, master, but what if a customer tells a slave that he wants to bind her, master?" Jenny was thinking ahead to Eric's next visit.

  "Customers, when they visit DiMarcos for the first time, are asked whether they are interested in a special situation, like bondage. If so, there are slaves to entertain them. We never talk about bondage with BB's customers because they are told that the BB is just for oral sex, or just oral sex and intercourse."

  Jenny realized that she had led Eric outside these boundaries. "What should I do about Eric, master?"

  "Well, yes, Eric." He thought for a moment. "I assume that you can speak without him asking you to. Is that correct?"

  "Yes, master."

  "I should mention that you must never try to become familiar with a customer on your own. If the customer asks you to be familiar, and you are alone with him, then you may. But you should always be ready to revert to the regular situation, that of not speaking unless you are asked to speak. In Eric's case, I think you should gently suggest to him that the two of you have sex without the bondage. But if he asks for it, you must submit." Maurice realized that Eric was a new customer, and he wanted to cultivate his patronage. Customers, after all, paid Maurice's salary.

  After hearing her master explain what could happen to a slave in bondage, and that DiMarcos would do nothing to stop it, Jenny was most unhappy to hear that she would have to submit if Eric asked for a fastener. Eric may have said, over and over, how much he loved Jenny, but she didn't take that as a guarantee that Eric would never raise a hand, or worse, against her.

  "You're a bright girl," said Maurice, slipping from his normal form of address. "I'm sure you can handle Eric." He reached into his pocket. "I brought this for you." It was a larger butt plug. "Start using it as soon as you can." He got up to leave, then stopped.

  "You know that tomorrow is Friday and that BB's don't work on weekends. Or do you know that?"

  "No, master," said Jenny almost joyously.

  "Well, they don't. You'll learn why soon enough. The explanation is long. In any case, if you like, I will ask the blond slave's master if he's willing to let the two of you spend the weekend together. Would you like me to ask him?"

  Jenny nearly leapt up to throw her arms around her master's neck. She looked directly at him. "Oh yes! master," she said gleefully. "That would be wonderful, master. Can you ask him, master? Will you ask him?" She forgot to use his title, but continued enthusiastically. "Will you ask him, master?" Though sitting, she was nearly jumping up and down.

  Maurice had thought that Jenny would like his offer, but he hardly expected this response. As he looked at her, and listened, he was cut by the knowledge that his slave was merely a girl who did not belong at DiMarcos. Her eyes were bright and happy, the kind of eyes that a slave never had. He could tell she was bursting with childlike anticipation as she waited for him to answer.

  "Of course," he said softly as he glanced down, trying to avoid her eager gaze, "of course I'll ask him, and I'm sure he'll agree."

  "Oh, thank you, master," said Jenny in the same enthusiastic voice. Then she drew herself back, realizing that she had gotten a little carried away. She was still bursting inside. She wanted to thank him, over and over, but she couldn't think of the right words. Then she smiled to herself. I will see that my master gets my thanks, she told herself. She wasn't quite as much a child as her master thought.

  "Well," said Maurice, with the emphasis that someone uses when at a loss for words, "I will see you tomorrow." He looked at the floor as he walked out.

  I will be here too, Jenny said to herself. I will be here wearing just my collar and my bracelets.

  She got up and showered. She sang a little to herself while she washed. Then she dug around under her blankets and retrieved the butt plug she had used the night before. She shelved it, and spent several minutes trying to insert the next larger plug into her ass. There was sweat on her forehead by the time she succeeded. She hoped that her master
would pardon a sweaty slave, perhaps a very sweaty slave, when the time came. She lay down. It took some effort to ignore the pain the plug was causing, but she didn't want to remove it. Gradually, slowly, she drifted off to sleep, and as she did she thought again about the older slave, the slave she met when she lost her freedom, and what the older slave had said about her master.

  Jenny awoke early the following morning. A moment after she was completely conscious, she felt the butt plug. It didn't hurt, but it was certainly intrusive. She removed it and looked at it. Ewwww, she said to herself. She took it in the bathroom, washed it off, and spent another minute washing her hands.

  Being wide awake, she didn't lie down again but sat on her blankets with her back against the wall. She thought ahead to the visit her master would pay her that morning, and back to his visit the night before. She was disappointed that he hadn't asked her for sex the previous evening, even though she was emotionally drained when he first arrived. She had so much wanted to thank him for his offer to let her spend the weekend with Janet, and wanted to thank him then. She thought, though, that she detected some reluctance in her master. She couldn't pinpoint what he had said or done to give her that impression, but she was sure she hadn't imagined it. Perhaps, she thought, her master had been put off by her exuberance. That's probably not the way a slave is supposed to behave when with her master, she decided. I will have to be a bit more subdued in the future. I'm sure, though, that he will be happy if I'm not subdued when he visits this morning. He's been asking me to let myself go during sex, and now that is exactly what I want to do.

  She was not a little surprised at herself. Just four days ago, the notion that she might actually want to please her master seemed absurd to her. She now understood, better than she had yesterday, just how much slavery could change her. She worried a little about her eagerness for her master. What if he asked her to do something really awful, something that she didn't even now know about? She thought that unlikely. Besides, there was a difference between wanting to please him personally and being willing to do anything he asked. Wasn't there?

  It was some time before an escort led Janet into Jenny's room prior to breakfast. Janet couldn't even get out a 'Good morning,' before Jenny, smiling broadly, told her that Jenny's master had offered to let the slaves spend the weekend together. Janet was in a sour mood because she had been awakened by the donut escort. She was not an early riser. She was happy when she heard she wouldn't be spending the weekend alone, but she was having difficulty interpreting Jenny's enthusiasm. Just what does Jenny think is going to happen this weekend, wondered Janet.

  "Why didn't you tell me that BB's don't have to work on weekends?" asked Jenny.

  "Well," said Janet, wishing she could have another hour's sleep, "it's not exactly like we get the weekend off. Your master will still come to see you, and you can count on a visit or two from the escorts." Fuck that damned escort for waking me up, she said to herself.

  "Oh," said Jenny, her enthusiasm somewhat dampened. "Still, that's better than a regular day, and we'll be spending two nights together. It will be like a slumber party."

  Janet wondered what kind of slumber party Jenny had in mind.

  Jenny now noticed that Janet wasn't sharing her enthusiasm for the coming weekend. "Are you OK, Janet?" she asked.

  "Yeah, I guess," she said wearily. "It's just that fucking escort. Two of the last three days he's waked me up so he can butt fuck me. I'll bet when he dreams about a girl all he sees is her asshole."

  "I'm sorry, Janet," said Jenny softly. "It does sound awful. I thought you were handling it pretty well, though, at least at first." Jenny recalled that it was Janet, only two days ago, who had cracked the joke about chocolate donuts.

  "Yeah, well it's not the sex so much. It's just that I hate getting up early."

  "Well this weekend I promise not to wake you. You can sleep in as long as you want."

  "If that damned escort comes in early, you better wake me. Otherwise, the first thing I'll see when I open my eyes is the escort having you for breakfast."

  Jenny knew that her master had put her ass off limits for two weeks. Nevertheless, only one of the scenarios that put Jenny, Janet, and the escort in her room before breakfast appealed to Jenny.

  The conversation lapsed as Janet brooded about the lost hour of sleep and wondered about the upcoming weekend. Meanwhile, Jenny thought about her master. After a few minutes, the escort came to take the slaves to breakfast. Jenny and Janet ate in silence. They listened to the felons compare notes on masters and escorts. The consensus was that most were assholes who couldn't get it up without a slave to help them. After breakfast, the slaves were again led back to their rooms.

  Jenny had expected that her master would call on her after breakfast, but it was an hour or so before she heard footsteps outside her room. She didn't recognize the steps, and in fact the visitor was not her master. It was a customer, whom she dispatched in short order. Another hour went by, and a second customer appeared, but there was no sign of Maurice. It wasn't until early afternoon, perhaps one Jenny reckoned, before he finally made an appearance.

  The anticipation she had felt since she had awakened was relieved by happiness when she heard her master's step. As soon as she heard it, she assumed the best sitting position she could.

  At first glance, Maurice thought Jenny had a very serene expression. He detected the hint of a smile. He had seen similar expressions before, but none of his previous slaves had combined it with Jenny's youthfulness. He wanted to snap a photo of her, not all of her, just her face. He didn't need a photo of her expression the night before. That he had already pictured to himself many times.

  May as well get this over with, he said to himself, and without a word he took off his clothes and sat.

  He really is a sexy man, said Jenny to herself as she closed the distance between them, a bit older than me but very attractive. She began stroking his dick. She was sweet, gentle, tender, and sexy.

  Maurice was aching inside. He had hoped that Jenny would not treat him this way. With all of his former slaves, there had been a long test of wills, a struggle for dominance. He had always won that struggle, and he derived a good deal of satisfaction from winning. Now, for the first time, he was training a slave he didn't want to dominate – he could still see her eyes from the night before – and yet she had submitted more quickly than any of his previous slaves.

  After just two minutes, Jenny's mouth became very sensuous. Every time she hummed, Maurice could tell there was nothing forced or mechanical in it. He knew she was talking to him, but because there were no words it was an entirely emotional language. He also knew what the emotion was, and he made no attempt to deceive himself. It was the affection of a slave for her master, the sort of affection he had striven for so many times and had always been happy with. In the master-slave relationships that he was expected to cultivate, it was the only real affection. A master was allowed to enjoy the affection of his slave, but couldn't reciprocate, at least not in kind. He could be thoughtful, he could be gentle, but above all he had to be his slave's master. He always had to be the master who, though he might tell his slave that she had pleased him, disdained the weakness of a slave who had submitted to him. It was a weakness that Maurice had never felt, but Jenny's every move made him less and less happy that he was her master. He was in agony and his only escape was the orgasm that would give him an excuse to leave.

  Jenny had every intention of causing that orgasm, but first she wanted to show her master that she remembered everything he had said to her. After stroking him for a few minutes, she began by trying to learn something new about him. As she ran her tongue around the head of his dick, she noticed that on its right side, and just below it, she could barely detect the scar caused by circumcision. The scar, though slight, was irregular at this point and she went over it again and again, trying to memorize it.

  Maurice did not even notice that Jenny was trying to learn something about him. She hummed
gently throughout her investigation, and he thought she was trying to arouse him. He was aroused, but then Jenny made him jump a little when she made what she supposed was a little girl sound. It was simply a short 'uh' of the sort she occasionally made when screwing. Understanding now, for the first time, what the sound was meant to indicate, she thought it would be better to replace it, now and then, with a long, low, hum that better reflected her current mood.

  Her mood was just as Maurice had interpreted it. Having sex with her master was different than sex with a lover or a customer. With the former, sex was passionate, an expression of physical desire. With the latter it was usually mechanical and forced. With her master, though, sex was a statement of affection, perhaps even contentment.

  Jenny had one more thing to accomplish before she could call the afternoon a success. She had to get her master down her throat. She got him to the back of her mouth several times and found that she could press him against the entrance to her throat and rotate her head slightly left and right two or three times. She then had to pull her head up, but each time she turned on him she could tell that she was getting closer. Finally, the fifth time she pressed him against the back of her mouth, the head of his dick slid two inches down her throat.

  The increase in pressure each time Jenny got Maurice to the back of her mouth made him lean back in his chair, grasp it with his hands, and straighten his arms. When he went down her throat, he gasped audibly and his entire body stiffened.

  Jenny, happily, noticed his reaction and got him down her throat three more times. When she felt her master approaching an orgasm, she reduced her stimulus until he had relaxed. She recalled that at one of her first meetings with him he had told her to tease him this way. Maurice now regretted that his slave remembered. Jenny sensed, somehow, that repeating her tease over and over was appropriate only when her master asked for it. She teased him a second time but, when he responded with only a few moans and deep breaths, decided it was best to finish.