Jenny spent several minutes crying where Maurice had left her. She then crawled over to her blankets. She lay down on her stomach, buried her head in a pillow, and cried almost uncontrollably for several more minutes. When her crying ebbed to the occasional sob, she tried to touch her ass. The sting of the cane had barely subsided, and when she brushed her ass with her finger she nearly burst into tears again. What help would salve be, she wondered, if applying it would be agonizing.
When an escort led Janet into Jenny's room before lunch, Jenny could only approximate her regular sitting position. Janet could see that Jenny had been crying, but had no opportunity to speak. The escort immediately leashed Jenny and led the slaves to lunch.
When the BB's entered the restaurant, Jenny tried unsuccessfully to get at the end of the line. Janet was in front of her. None of the slaves behind Jenny said anything, but they all noticed the marks on her ass. At the table, Teri (the brunette) sat across the table from Jenny.
"So, the little brat got caned," said Teri smugly. "What'd you do? Complain to an escort that he didn't cum enough?"
Once again Jenny had been called a slut. Her master had made it clear that she had to take that from customers, but she certainly did not have to take it from a slave. Unfortunately, she couldn't think of clever comeback.
"Fuck you," said Jenny, quietly but firmly.
"Better watch your language, little girl," said Teri. "If your master hears you talk like that, he'll wash your mouth out with soap."
The exchange with Teri went no further because Teri had a few insults for the felon sitting next to her. Janet put her left hand on Jenny's thigh. Jenny slipped her right hand under the table, and they held hands throughout the meal. They said nothing to each other, though, and didn't have the chance to talk after lunch.
Almost immediately after lunch, Jenny received a customer. She was in no mood for sex, but the prospect of further punishment terrified her. She did her best to be sexy as she sucked her customer's dick, and since she heard no complaints she guessed that she had succeeded. Then she turned around so her customer could screw her. He was a man in his thirties who had seen a bruised ass before, and he accepted the proposition that for a slave a sore ass went with the territory. However, he had never been the first to visit a slave after she had been punished.
Jenny found out just how sore she was when her customer began bumping her ass as he stroked her. Each time he stroked into her, and simultaneously pulled her back toward him, he slapped against her. It didn't sting like the cane. It more resembled a spanking, or rather what she supposed a spanking to be like. She buried her head in her blankets and did her best to keep from crying. Every time he bumped her, her customer could hear Jenny's suppressed cries and see her fists clench. Thinking that Jenny was aroused by his stroking, and completely aroused himself, he sought to intensify things. He slapped himself against her forcefully a few times, then held her to him and rubbed against her rear. Jenny lifted her head and moaned in agony.
"You've been a bad little slave, haven't you?" asked her customer.
Jenny sobbed.
"Haven't you?" he asked again.
"Yes, sir," said Jenny, and she sobbed again.
"But you're turned on, more turned on than any slave I've ever seen," he said in a low voice. "Your little ass hurts, but you like it, don't you?"
"Yes, sir," said Jenny, afraid to give any other answer.
Satisfied that he had correctly evaluated the situation, Jenny's customer stroked her for the remainder of his hour. The pain he caused didn't subside, but Jenny gradually became accustomed to it.
When her customer left, she went to the bathroom and tried to apply some salve. It was cold to the touch and it stung more than it soothed. She decided to do without. Just as she was closing the lid on the salve, she had another customer. He was much like the first, but with this second customer Jenny hid her discomfort. He was much gentler than the first customer had been.
Only minutes after Jenny received her second customer, Eric breathlessly arrived at the escort's office. In the seventy-two hours since he had last seen Jenny he had been quite busy. On Saturday morning, while lying awake in bed, he took stock of his situation. Buying Jenny for two hours a day was not expensive, but it was still beyond his means. He knew he had to find income to support his new habit. Unfortunately, nearly every available job required computer expertise that Eric didn't have. Even fast food restaurants required new hires to be familiar with a cash register. Good students without computer ability could still get jobs as interns in politics and business, but Eric was not a good student. He could think of only one job that offered any prospects: day laborer.
The twenty-first century had seen many technical innovations in agriculture. Fertilizers and herbicides had been greatly improved. Harvesting, however, had barely changed at all. There were machines for harvesting any crop that grew, but not all of them were cost effective. Tomatoes, strawberries, lettuce and such were still harvested by hand. Eric thought he could raise a few dollars by working in the fields.
On Monday morning he biked to the south edge of town, to a run-down strip mall where day laborers gathered. Field workers were still hired by foremen in pickup trucks. The foreman would stop, announce how many workers he needed, make his choices, and drive to the fields. Since Eric was young, robust, and obviously eager, he got a job for the day.
It wasn't long before he learned just how hard the work was. He spent six hours gathering lettuce, and for five of those hours his back hurt. At lunch, he spent all the money he had brought with him at the food service truck or, as the other workers called it, the roach coach. By the time he went back work, the weather had turned very warm. He hadn't thought to bring any water, and it was only due to the kindness of man working near him that he got anything to drink. The man was working with his children, the youngest of whom was about eight. He treated Eric the same way he treated his children. When they asked for a drink, he told them that they could have a sip of water when they reached the end of the row they were picking.
By the time Eric got back to the mall, it was late afternoon. Exhausted, he still pedaled home quickly, showered, changed, and dashed off to DiMarcos. Finally, he said to himself, as he straggled up to the escort's office.
"I want to see the slave in room six," he told the escort.
The escort turned lazily to look at board in his office.
"Sorry buddy, she's busy. You'll have to take someone else."
Eric was heartbroken. "No," he said with a hint of desperation in his voice, "I've got to see Jenny, I mean the slave in room six."
"Like I said, she's busy," replied the escort, "and unless the guy she's with leaves early, she's done for the day. You don't want her, anyway. She got her ass beat a couple of hours ago and she's still whining about it. You can have the slave in fourteen."
"What? She got beaten? For what?"
"What difference does it make?" answered the escort. "She's a slave. Slaves get their butts beat all the time."
Eric was distraught. "No, I don't want the girl in fourteen. I'll just wait for Jenny."
"You'll just lose your money waiting," said the escort. "Take the slave in fourteen. She's a blond, the best looking piece of ass you've ever seen."
For Eric, it was Jenny or no one. He hung his head. "I'll just wait for while. Maybe I can see her today."
"Suit yourself," said the escort. "You can wait outside the door there. If her customer leaves early, I'll let you know."
Eric stood outside the escort's office waiting and trying not to think about Jenny being with another man. Thirty minutes later, the escort stuck his head out the door and informed Eric that the slave in room six was done for the day. Disconsolate and tired, Eric went home.
Jenny, after she survived her second customer since lunch, cleaned herself off, and tried to get some rest. When she lay motionless, however, she became more aware of the pain in her ass. She could only lay awake on her stomach and suffer. Whe
n she heard footsteps outside her room, she expected to see another customer. Instead, it was an escort with Janet.
As soon as the escort left, Jenny again lay down on her blankets. Janet, for the first time, saw the red marks and the welts on her lover's ass. Janet knelt beside Jenny and stroked Jenny's hair.
"It looks pretty bad," said Janet. "Did you put something on it?"
"No," said Jenny, "I tried but it stings. I'm just going to let it get better on its own."
"If you warm up the salve a little," said Janet, "it won't sting. And it really does work. The first week I was here, I used it every day. Can I try to put some on for you?"
Jenny agreed. Janet went to the bathroom and returned with the salve. She put a large glob in the palm of her hand, stirred it with her finger for a while, then gently applied it.
"Does that hurt?" asked Janet.
"No, hardly at all. Much less than when I tried to use it," said Jenny.
"So, what happened? Why did your master cane you?" asked Janet as she warmed up some more salve.
Jenny related the whole story.
"I'd say you got a raw deal," said Janet when Jenny had finished.
"Yeah," said Jenny, "I did. But the worst part is what my master said about pride. He said it was my pride that caused all the trouble. Shit, do I have to let every guy who walks in here call me a slut and just ignore it?"
"No doubt," said Janet, "it sucks. You can't be proud that you are a slave, and you can't have any pride to behave like one."
"How do you do it, Janet? I mean, you always seem like you're handling it really well. I'll bet if your boyfriend called you a slut, you'd knock his block off."
"I'd like to meet the woman that can handle this place," said Janet, as she slowly rubbed more salve into Jenny's rear. "My first week here was terrible. I cried every night."
"But the first day I met you, you were looking forward to getting out. You were so upbeat."
"Yeah," said Janet sighing, "I decided that I had to do something or else I was going to die inside a month. So I started telling myself that some day I'd be out of here. I guess it helped a little."
For the first time, Jenny thought Janet sounded despondent. "Janet, my master told me something this morning, before I had all the trouble with Mark. He said that we have to be BB's for at least two months, but that when we become sophs we can room together." Jenny buried her head in her pillow and sobbed. "I suppose now I've screwed that up. My master will probably make me wait three months before he makes me a soph."
Janet was just as unhappy to hear that she might be separated from Jenny as Jenny was unhappy to admit that it was possible.
"Do you think he'll let us stay together on the weekends?" asked Janet.
"I don't know," said Jenny into her pillow. "Maybe not," and she started crying in earnest.
CHAPTER XV
Until an escort came to take Jenny and Janet to dinner, Jenny lay on her blankets, weeping inconsolably, convinced that her master would no longer let her see Janet. Even though she was nearly blameless, she repeatedly apologized to Janet. Janet thought Jenny was overreacting and tried to say so. When Jenny interrupted her with another tearful apology, Janet decided to say nothing more. Knowing how emotional Jenny was, Janet's only recourse was to let her girlfriend cry herself out.
Jenny was still crying when the escort appeared. It took three commands to get Jenny to sit, and Janet had to attach Jenny's leash. All the while, Jenny kept crying.
"Shit," said the escort, "all you got was a little caning. You're acting like you got whipped for half an hour. Come on, let's go," and he led the slaves to dinner.
For Jenny and Janet, there was a positive side to Jenny's outburst. The escort who had planned to visit them after dinner decided a near hysterical teenager would probably give a lousy blow job. When he brought them back from dinner, he told them that they would spend the evening together, then left.
Janet was pained over Mark's treatment of Jenny and Jenny's subsequent punishment, but she wasn't thrilled at the prospect of spending the night with Jenny. She was sure that Jenny would spend an hour crying on her shoulder, then analyze the situation and reach all the wrong conclusions. Jenny surprised her by composing herself enough to ask Janet to apply more salve to her ass. Jenny waited until Janet agreed, then threw herself on her blankets and buried her head in a pillow. She didn't know whether she should be happy or sad that Janet was staying the evening. It could be that her master was letting her be with Janet one last night before telling her that he was separating them. That would be cruel, thought Jenny, but no less cruel than Mark had been. On the other hand, it was possible, just possible, that her master wasn't really angry with her. He hadn't once raised his voice before or after he punished her. While Janet was applying more salve, Jenny asked Janet which of these two possibilities seemed most likely. Janet, relieved that Jenny had not gone off the deep end, opined that Jenny's master could hardly be angry.
"I mean really, Jenny, you didn't do anything wrong. He'd have to be a complete ignoramus to miss that." Janet knew that Jenny's master was a skillful manipulator, and she was sure that he was anything but dumb. She also suspected that he was not above using the relationship between herself and Jenny for his own purposes. She would have said as much to Jenny, but the only way to keep Jenny's master from exploiting their relationship was to keep it from him. That, Janet reasoned, was impossible.
Janet's logic brought her to the ineluctable conclusion that Jenny's master would certainly let the relationship continue. After all, she asked herself, wasn't it impossible to take advantage of a relationship that didn't exist?
"I think you've got it just right," said Janet. "Your master won't keep us apart."
"I wish I could be as sure as you are," said Jenny.
I'm sure, said Janet to herself. The price we will have to pay to stay together will be high, probably very high, but I'm sure we will be together.
Janet had by now finished applying salve to Jenny's behind. She patted Jenny's thigh. "This stuff really works," she told Jenny. "By morning, you won't feel a thing."
Janet put the salve back in the bathroom and washed her hands. When she returned, she sat on the blankets near Jenny's head and crossed her legs. She bent over stroked Jenny's hair.
"Feeling better?" she asked.
"Yeah, a little," said Jenny as she turned her head to face Janet. She laid her left hand on Janet's leg.
"Janet?" said Jenny in a mournful voice.
"Yes, Jenny."
"What are we going to do when we get out of here?"
"We're going to move as far away from DiMarcos as we can and forget that we were ever slaves," answered Janet emphatically.
"Do you think we'll have to move away?"
"After we've been fucked by every guy in town we won't want to stay. I sure wouldn't want to run into a former customer on the street or, say, at a party."
"At a party," said Jenny, "yeah, I guess that would be bad. A party," she repeated dreamily. She thought about the great parties she had gone to when she was in school. "You know, at those information sessions you have to go to before you can gamble your freedom, they never tell you that slaves don't ever get to go to parties."
"That and a million other things," said Janet.
Jenny kept thinking about parties, but shifted her focus from the past to the future.
"Janet?"
"Yes, Jenny," said Janet, as she continued to stroke Jenny's hair.
"What happens to us if we fall in love?"
"What do you mean, what happens to us?"
"Well, I mean, what if we go to a party? Will there be only women there, or will there be, like, regular couples and guy couples, too?"
Janet laughed softly. "I don't know, Jenny. I guess if someone invited us to a party..." Here Janet stopped. She was trying to decide for herself just how a host might handle the arrangements if she and Jenny were one of the couples.
"Yes?" asked Jenny. "If someone in
vited us to a party?"
"It would probably be somebody we knew who would only invite us if he thought we would be comfortable," said Janet.
"Oh," said Jenny. "That makes sense. Do you suppose we'll ever get invited to a party?"
"Two good looking girls are bound to get invited to lots of parties, even if they show up together and leave together. There will be plenty of parties."
"I'd like to go to a party with you," said Jenny. "I'd really like that."
"You've got a date, beautiful," said Janet softly.
Jenny wanted to sit next to Janet but she knew her butt wasn't up to it. "Janet, can you lie down next to me? My butt hurts too much sit."
Janet stretched out beside her future date. Jenny laid her head on Janet's chest.
"Thanks again for asking me out," said Janet. "Do you want my phone number?"
Jenny snickered. "Won't your number be my number?" she asked.
"Yes," said Janet, squeezing Jenny's shoulder, "it will. But you could still go to a pay phone or a friend's house and call me."
Jenny laughed a little, then squeezed Janet's waist. "OK," she said, "I'll call you."
"When?" asked Janet, pretending to be serious.
"Every day, Janet," said Jenny as she squeezed Janet again, "I'll call you every day."
The conversation lapsed, and the slaves let their imaginations take them far away to parties where they danced, and laughed, and flirted. When it was time to go, they walked home arm in arm, and when it was time for bed it was just the two of them.
Jenny and Janet lay awake dreaming for over an hour. Janet slowly ran her hand up and down Jenny's arm. Jenny drifted off to sleep, but Janet, wishing that Jenny could have been the lover she had been the night before, didn't fall asleep until much later.
They woke before dawn. Janet, still aroused from the night before, turned on her side and necked with Jenny for a few minutes. Their position was awkward, though, so Janet got up and sat with her back against the wall. She coaxed Jenny onto her lap. After Jenny found a relatively comfortable position, Janet cradled her lover in her arms. They kissed, sometimes passionately, for over an hour. Janet gently fingered Jenny's breasts, and couldn't get over how wonderful it was to hold Jenny on her lap. Jenny, once she could ignore how her ass felt, lost herself in the comfort and warmth of Janet's embrace. It was still early when their last kiss ended and Jenny leaned her head on Janet's shoulder. Jenny dozed while Janet, more concerned than she had been the night before, hoped that Friday would find them together.
JENNY: A Novel of Sexual Enslavement Page 21
