The House Book One: Pet Lucy

by Madison Barry

  I could feel the muscles of my pussy contracting around the dildo, sending waves of pleasure through my whole pelvis. Okay. Vibrator time. I’d never tried one. I wrapped my hand around it, switched it on, put the rounded head to my clit.

  “Oh, fuck!” I squirmed and pulled it away, the stimulation almost painful. “Slower. Fuck.” That was the highest speed. I turned it down and tried again. Like my fingers multiplied by a thousand, filling my arousal meter almost to bursting in seconds, a tremor started in my thighs, my abs tightened, and my pussy throbbed. I dug my heels into the bed, arched my back, easing off every time I thought I might be swept away by the waves crashing through me. The tremors spread, sweat trickled down my sides, and I was overcome with terror. I dropped the vibrator, panting and shivering. The dildo slipped out of me, and I lay, staring up at my ceiling, in shock.

  “Holy crap,” I said after a while. It had sure never felt like that with Derek. Or ever. The vibrator was still lying on the bed between my legs, buzzing. I switched it off.

  * * *

  Sunday, November 8, 2015, 6:30 p.m.

  Day 2

  By the end of the two hours, I’d become used to the butt plug. Not only that, but I was beginning to like it. The constant stimulation of the dildo and the butt plug had me in a state of low-level arousal. Now I understood why the Punisher had said explicitly that I wasn’t allowed to masturbate. Whenever I moved and the plug shifted inside me, a fresh zap of pleasure shot from my anus to my clit, then centered in my pelvic floor, where the dildo and the plug competed for space. Unfortunately, having drunk a full bottle of water half an hour ago, as ordered, I had to pee something fierce now, and so I was grateful when the clock struck 6:30.

  My door opened to reveal Deep Voice. He hadn’t touched me yet, only given me orders and information. “Missionary, Pet,” he ordered.

  I lay back on the bed, mostly relieved.

  “How do you feel, Pet?”

  That wasn’t a yes or no question. Nor was it very specific. “Sir?”

  “It’s a simple question, Pet.”

  “Yes, Sir. Um, this Pet feels fine, Sir.”

  “Fine? That’s all?” He loosened the belt and unhooked the straps holding the dildo in place.

  “This Pet needs to pee, Sir,” I said.

  Deep Voice laughed. “I imagine you do. And?”

  “This Pet is… is… this Pet likes the butt plug, Sir,” I managed.

  “That’s good, Pet! I’m pleased to hear that. I will remove it now. It’s not healthy to wear it for too long. But we will continue with your anal training tomorrow.” He worked the dildo free, then took hold of the handle of the butt plug. “Deep breath and push out, Pet,” he said.

  I attempted what he’d described, and he tugged the butt plug out. I grunted as it passed through, but the pain was minimal.

  “Go use the toilet, Pet,” Deep Voice said.

  I did so with alacrity and a sigh of relief. I felt so empty now, and my anus wouldn't quite close.

  “You will serve us dinner tonight. Come.”

  Oh. Neat. I followed him down to the dining room. At the back of the room was another door, which led to a kitchen.

  “Go into the kitchen, Pet, and bring us our meals. Once we are served, you may return for your plate and eat on your mat as usual.”

  I was not just a sex slave, apparently. I pushed open the kitchen door. It hadn’t occurred to me that there might be people in the House other than the six masters and myself, and maybe that one other woman/slave who’d served the meals so far, but I stopped, startled, just inside.

  There was a chef in here. A male chef. He smiled at me. I’d become relatively comfortable with my nudity around the six men. After all, several of them had already been about as intimate with me as it was possible to be. But this guy was a stranger, and presumably not one of my masters.

  “The soup is there.” He pointed nonchalantly, as if having a naked woman walk into his kitchen was nothing out of the ordinary. Which it wasn’t, I supposed. His eyes lingered just a little longer than necessary on me, however, and it wasn’t my face he was examining with that half-smile on his lips.

  I saw two trays with three bowls each and took one out to the waiting men. No one told me if there was a specific order I should serve them in, so I started with Deep Voice and worked my way around the table to no objections. I went back for the second tray and finished serving the soup. Apparently, I didn’t get soup. I went to kneel on my mat. No one so much as looked at me.

  My stomach rumbled. Lunch had been hours ago, with some stressful activity since. My mind wandered, thinking of the butt plug. I’d never imagined someone would enjoy having something stuck up their butt. I had a vague sense that people did that, but I didn’t know why. I had an inkling, now, of what it might feel like. But a penis was much wider than the plug, and even that had hurt quite a lot going in. Would the pain diminish as they “trained” me? Maybe so.

  Not that I had a choice in the matter.

  I tried very hard not to wonder when they were going to make me give them blow jobs. I was very concerned I would freeze up again when the order was given. No, I was certain I would freeze up, so instead, I had to dread what sort of punishment they might dream up. That punishment room, or dungeon, or torture arena, or whatever they called it, certainly allowed for quite the variety of torment.

  “Collect our bowls and bring the entrée, Pet,” Blue Eyes called.

  Spurred into action, I did as I was told. There were seven plates this time, with some kind of seafood pasta. I served the men and then knelt with my plate. This had a liquidy sauce and clams in it. How was I supposed to eat this with any semblance of neatness kneeling over it on the floor? I found that by going slowly and being very precise, I could avoid dripping the hot sauce on my thighs, but a clamshell did land on the floor at one point. I flicked it back onto the plate, fairly certain no one had noticed.

  “Dessert now, Slave,” the Teacher ordered.

  They got sorbet. I got to watch them eat it. I assumed dessert was an earned privilege just like coffee. When they were finally finished, I collected the dessert plates and delivered them to the kitchen. If I still deserved a reward, I would get it now. I Stood at Rest, worried.

  “Our Pet told me she enjoyed the butt plug,” Deep Voice said with a chuckle. I could feel heat rising in my face. He didn’t have to repeat that! “And because of your honesty,” he said, turning to me, “we have decided to allow you to have your reward. Go across the hall. Between the bedroom and the living room is a bathroom. You may have thirty minutes in the hot tub. There are salts and bubbles you may use, and you may turn on the jets. At the end of thirty minutes, dry yourself, put the towel in the laundry bin, and come to the living room.” He smiled at me.

  I didn’t hesitate. I found the bathroom he’d mentioned. A toilet, sink, shower stall, and bathtub large enough for two occupied the pristine, tiled space. I turned on the hot water eagerly. I’d expected supervision and reveled in the unexpected privacy.

  The hot water and lavender-scented salts soothed tired muscles and my overused pussy, and the jets pounded just the right points in my shoulders and lower back. Thirty minutes passed far too quickly this time, and I climbed out of the tub reluctantly. Punished, then pampered, and the contrast was quite striking. Would it be like this all the time? Swinging from one extreme to the other?

  My six masters had assembled in the living room and awaited my entrance. I Knelt at Rest in the center of the room.

  Deep Voice took the lead, as always. “Pet, you have been with us for nearly 24 hours. We would like to give you an opportunity to ask any questions you have, though we will not promise to answer all of them, and then we will tell you how the rest of the week will progress. As much as we would like to spend all hours of the day and night with you, we six must return to the real world, to our jobs and our social obligations. Is there anything you would like to ask us, Pet?”

  I had so many questions, I di
dn’t know where to start, and at the same time, I felt almost no desire to ask them anything. The most pressing question, then. “Can this Pet be sent away if she does not please her masters?” I asked. This third-person speech was awkward, but growing on me.

  “Do you think you don’t please us, Pet?” Deep Voice asked.

  “I don’t—this Pet doesn’t know, Sir.”

  Lustful Guy crouched in front of me. “Look at me, Pet,” he said. I met his dark eyes. “Do you want to please us?” he asked.

  That wasn’t as simple a question as it sounded. I hesitated. “Yes, Sir,” I said after a moment.

  “Then you’ll please us,” he said, and returned to his seat on the sofa.

  I wasn’t sure what to make of that, but I found it reassuring all the same.

  “Anything else, Pet?” Deep Voice asked.

  “What else will you ask me—ask this Pet to do?” I asked, sure that was far too broad. A few chuckles suggested it was not an uncommon question, however.

  “I’m sure you’ve guessed at some of it, Pet.” That was Blue Eyes. “We can’t give you a comprehensive list.”

  That was pretty much the answer I’d expected. “What’s the cage for?” I blurted out.

  More chuckles. At least I was amusing them. The Punisher answered that one, appropriately enough. “It’s a form of punishment, Slave. Continue to behave, and you may never see the inside of it.”

  I couldn't think of anything else to ask, but I felt like I should say more while I had the chance. My constant worry came to the front of my mind. “What if this Pet can’t… can’t stop…” I swallowed against a lump in my throat, trying to figure out how to phrase what was bothering me. “What if this Pet can’t… do it?” I finally said.

  “Can’t do what, Pet?” Deep Voice asked.

  “What you ask me—her to.” I bit my lip.

  The room was silent for several seconds. Then, “Stand, Pet,” Deep Voice commanded. I stood up. “You will do what we tell you to do,” he said.

  “But what if I can’t?” I pressed, forgetting my syntax as my anxiety grew.

  “Come here, Pet,” Deep Voice ordered. I went to him. “On your knees.” I dropped to my knees in front of his chair. He cupped my chin and tipped my head back to meet his eyes, then leaned forward and spoke very quietly, so quietly I thought even the Teacher, sitting on the couch closest to Deep Voice’s chair, couldn't hear. “Lucy,” he said gently. I blinked at the use of my name. I had been half-convinced he didn’t even know it. “You came to us for help, and we will help you. You have entrusted us with your care. We do not take that lightly. Give yourself over to us. Let go.” He held my gaze through several slow breaths and then sat back. “Return to your place,” he said, louder.

  I rose, took the few steps back to the center of the floor, and resumed the Kneeling at Rest pose.

  “Do you have any other questions, Pet?” Deep Voice asked.

  “No, Sir.”

  Give yourself over to us. They wouldn't reject me. I couldn't scare them away. Affection for Deep Voice bloomed in my chest.

  The Teacher took over from Deep Voice. “Listen carefully, Slave. You will be given a daily schedule upon awakening each morning this week. You will see two masters each day, one in the morning and one in the evening, to continue your training and vetting. During the middle of the day, you will have tasks to complete, optional activities, and various additional means to fill your time. Do exactly as you’re told and only as you’re told, and you will be successful.”

  That was the same sentence Deep Voice had used. Succinct and powerful.

  “Demonstrate your poses, Slave,” the Teacher continued. He called out each one in a sequence that seemed logical and planned, allowing me to smoothly transition from one to the next. He concluded with the positions that required me to lie on the floor, finishing with the lying down variant of the Inspection pose. I was equal parts pleased with myself for performing each pose correctly and absolutely humiliated to be put through my paces again. He didn’t release me from the Inspection Pose immediately.

  “Excellent, Slave!” the Teacher said. “Kneel at Rest.” I did so without delay. “You have learned half of the poses. Tomorrow, you will learn five more. Perform all twenty poses correctly tomorrow evening and you will be rewarded.”

  The six men got to their feet. “Come with me, Pet,” Lustful Guy said. I had rather hoped to spend more time with Deep Voice. He made me feel safe in a way that none of the others had, not even Glasses.

  Lustful Guy led me back to the bedroom. “I’ll show you another pose now, Pet, since I want you to use it. You’ll have a head start.” He stroked my back briefly. “This is another kneeling pose, called Praying.” He laughed. “It’s only called that because of how it looks, not for how it’s used. Kneel, but keep your knees at ninety-degree angles. Don’t sit on your heels.”

  Like kneeling at your bedside for bedtime prayers. As if I’d ever done such a thing. I almost giggled at the thought. I knelt as he described.

  “Good. Now bring your hands up as if you’re accepting a tray from someone. Palms up, forearms parallel to the ground, shoulder-width apart.”

  That was less prayer-like, but still had shades of obeisance.

  “Good, Pet. Now you only have to learn four more tomorrow.” He laughed again. I might have to change his name to Laughing Guy in my head. He stepped forward, almost between my hands and began undoing his fly. And now the position’s purpose became quite clear. I had known this was coming, but now, literally faced with it, I wasn’t sure I could do it.

  Give yourself over to us. Let go. Deep Voice had a way of boiling everything down into neat little sound bites.

  Don’t think. Just do what he says.

  “Do you know how to give a blow job, Pet?” he asked.

  There was a difference between “knowing how” and “being able to.” I did know how, but I’d only done it a few times. “Yes, Sir,” I said.

  “Good. Open your mouth.”

  I opened my mouth. He pulled out his dick, which was semi-erect and not especially large. He put one hand on the back of my head and coaxed my face toward him, until the head of his penis touched my tongue. “Hold my thighs for balance,” he said.

  He got a good grip on my hair and thrust his hips forward, holding me in place. His cock bumped the back of my tongue, triggering coughing and gagging as the Punisher had done with the hairbrush handle earlier. I tried to pull away, but his hands in my hair prevented much movement. He backed up just until my gagging calmed. My eyes watered, but I refused to cry again. He began to fuck my mouth, going only as far as I could manage.

  “Close your lips,” he said.

  I let my mind drift, thinking of the relaxing bath, of how kind Deep Voice had been. Let go. My jaw loosened, and I found myself participating in the blow job, rather than just letting him do all the work. I tasted the sweetness of his precum, let my tongue slide along the underside, firm and hot.

  “Good, Pet!” he said. He released my hair and groaned. “Very good.”

  Whatever I was doing, he apparently liked it. I’m doing this. I was pleasing him, like he said I would.

  The realization opened the floodgates, and tears streamed down my face. He stepped away, cupped my cheek. “Let go, Pet,” he murmured. I crumpled, buried my face in my hands, and sobbed into the floor. He didn’t berate me for breaking the pose, just knelt beside me and rubbed my back. I didn’t know what I was feeling, exactly. I wasn’t upset or sad, or even embarrassed or overwhelmed. But something had changed, shifted, a barrier coming down. Lustful Guy—the name didn’t seem to fit him anymore—stroked his fingertips lightly along my spine, gathered my hair out of my face, and waited.

  They must have known this would happen, much like before. My small breakdown the previous evening had nothing on this, though. Every time I thought the crying had slowed, I would think about something that had happened—a punishment, the butt plug, masturbating, having sex, and the po
ses, the awful, humiliating poses—and a freshet of sobs would pour out of me.

  Shame. I was releasing my shame, my pride, all of it spilling down my cheeks and soaking into the carpet beneath me. I was letting Lucy go: Lucy, with all her baggage, her fears, her insecurities, and becoming Pet. And Pet could do anything. Pet was new, fresh, a blank slate.

  I lifted my head. Lustful Guy still knelt beside me. He’d tucked himself back into his pants but had otherwise simply waited for me to cry myself out. I stretched out my arms and pressed my forehead into the carpet in a perfect Supplication. I wasn’t sure why.

  Lustful Guy laughed. “Kneel at Rest, sweet Pet,” he said.

  Sweet Pet. I unfolded myself, straightened.

  “I’ll be with you first tomorrow morning,” he said. “I look forward to it. Right now, go upstairs to your room, use the toilet, brush and floss your teeth, and be in bed by 10:30. You’ll find a magazine and instructions for the morning on your dresser. You can read the magazine before you go to sleep tonight, if you want. A little gift, from me.”

  A gift. Maybe he wanted me. Maybe I wanted him. He’d shown me more compassion even than Glasses.

  * * *

  Thursday, December 25, 2008, 9:10 p.m.

  7 years ago

  “Merry Christmas, Lucy,” Zach said. He handed me a small, wrapped box. I thought we’d finished opening presents long ago.

  “Another one?” I asked.

  “I didn’t think you should open this one in front of your family,” he said with a wink. “We can let them think the necklace was my only gift.”

  I touched the necklace, a heart charm dangling from a delicate gold chain. Zach was so sweet. “What does that mean?” I asked.

  “Open it.” He sat close enough next to me on the couch that our hips touched.