My name is Jessy Hutchens, or at least it used to be. Now I suppose it is just Jessy, at least to me it is. I am nineteen years old close as I can figure. I am unfertile and not at all bitter about it considering my present situation, but more on that later. I am tall for a girl, at just over six foot, and two inches. I am lanky, awkward, and my posture is horrible. When I stand up I have a tendency to shrug my shoulders forward giving the appearance that my arms reach all the way to my knees. I have a nearly flat chest, 32B cup-size. I am a “strange mix of psycho and crybaby” as my “owner” likes to say. I have short blonde hair that is kept just long enough for a person to grab in a handful. I have sharp features and overall my body is toned and muscular, with one exception. I seem to have the perfect bubble of an ass. As I have been told many times over the last year, it’s my only valuable asset, if you’ll pardon the pun (for the hundredth time).
When I was growing up in northern California, the man whom I had always thought was my father, shared the title of “poverty stricken” with me. I figured that to be the reason he was always so detached with me. The little affection he did show, or what I thought was affection, was by cupping and patting my ass while telling me I was going to be a “prize” someday. My house was a cracker box of architectural design, and the view surrounding it was pretty much shit. There were a few other homes within spitting distance, mostly inhabited by gypsy rejects and new age hippies. The only pleasant spot for me was in the backyard, where I had dug about a five foot deep by ten foot around goldfish pond. I had done an excellent job with it, going so far as to put in a rubber liner and a small pump to keep it healthy looking. I spent many an afternoon lounging in that pond while my goldfish swam around me. I tried it nude on only one occasion and that was ruined when a neighbor, a scraggily hippy-type of about twenty-eight years, came over and sat down at the edge of my pond and just stared at my naked figure under the water. I told “dad” about the incident that night and curiously, I never saw the hippy again.
It was a comfortable, if strange life. I suppose I should have figured out something was wrong with the situation a lot sooner than I did, because I received regular bare-bottom spankings until the age of sixteen. As it happened I was receiving just such a disciplining when I became very wet, very quickly. I was standing in my room, hands on my bed mattress, leaned forward, with legs spread a little bit over shoulder width apart. I’m not sure even as of now, why, but as the hand smacked across my bare young ass for the fifth time, a flash of heat passed through my belly and down into my groin. I slowly started rocking my hips back and forth in sync with the swatting of the hand, until at the ninth stroke, I rocked back on my heels just as the hand tore into the soft flesh of my bottom. I remember that there wasn’t exactly anything going on in my head at that moment, I was just kind of…enjoying it. Gradually I noticed that the hand had stopped, and I became acutely aware that the insides of my thighs were soaked, with streams of my wetness running down over the backs of my calf muscles. The air in my room had become heavy with the musky smell of female lust, and as I turned shame-faced, there was dear old dad, hand still raised in mid swipe, mouth open, staring at my shiny, wet rear-end; he was sporting a massive erection, and a single bead of sweat was rolling down his forehead. I bolted out of there and into the bathroom, locking the door behind me.
I was breathing in thin gasps, sucking the air through my clinched teeth. I sat down on the toilet seat and started to cry, unsure as to what would or should happen next. The man had never been warm with me, but he had never been abusive in any way either. In the way of family, we were more like roommates. As I sat there running over the situation in my head, my hands slowly moved to the warm, wet center between my legs. Now this was a completely innocent move on my part, but as my fingers grazed against the lips of my vagina, an electric current snaked through my body. Slowly my fingers moved around the lips, then in and out of the hole within. Soon the feeling of mental blankness was over me again, and my hands were gently exploring my sex.
Quickly enough mydigits found my clitoris, and as they moved with increasing pressure over it, I remember biting at the empty air around me. My eyes grew heavy and my legs seemed to fall asleep…then a rush of fluid filled my pussy. That was the first time I had ever masturbated. It was the first time I had ever had an orgasm. Nothing was ever said about that incident until the occasion of my eighteenth birthday.
Now along about a year ago, on my aforementioned birthday, my home received some rather unpleasant visitors. I was about to go out to the Friday night races at the local dirt track and had spent the better part of two hours fixing my hair up like that Jaime Lee Curtis woman. I was wearing a tight wife-beater shirt and a pair of daisy dukes that rode up the crack of my ass with every step. I hadn’t seen my “dad” in the last three hours or so, when he had gone out back with the telephone. As I opened up the front door to head out, I was greeted by an ogre of a man in a black business suit. I opened my mouth to scream, but the ogre-man grabbed my face in his palm and sent me sprawling onto my backside into the house. He quickly walked in and kicked the door shut behind him. As he was heading towards me I scrambled up on to my knees and was about to stand up when he straddled my face. I reared back let loose a punch at his balls, but the big bastard was too quick and simply caught my arm by the wrist. He shoved me down onto my back and pinned my arms down under his knees. I thrashed madly, cussing all the while, but I was stuck under his gargantuan frame.
After a few minutes I stopped moving and simply looked up into his face, waiting for the next move. He smiled back at me and fished into his coat pockets. What he pulled out quickly had me thrashing again, in one had he held a large tube of fuck-lube, and in the other was a thick, red, rubber dildo. Just as I started writhing again, he yelled out “Gerald!” and incredibly, in walked dear old dad, whom I had always known as Mick, and to boot, he was carrying his own strange wares- a small spool of rope, a steak knife, and a roll of gray packing tape. In the midst of this most horrifying revelation I had gone stiff. The ogre-man took this opportunity to uncap the lube and quickly had it shoved into my gaping, dumbfounded mouth. He squeezed the entirety of the contents into my mouth, forcing my to swallow a great deal of the syrupy tasting stuff, and I began breathing heavily through my nose. As I reeled from this strange invasion he grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked my head back opening my mouth wide, whereupon he stuffed the dildo all the way to its flattened base between my trembling lips. As I watched “Gerald” hand the ogre-man the roll of tape, I felt the first tears welling up in my eyes. The tape was wrapped tightly around my head twice, and I dumbly thought to myself, that is going to fucking hurt when it comes out of my hair.
With the obscene gag securely in place, my assailant took a moment to issue some instructions to “Gerald” as to what was going to happen next. He then looked at me and said in a remarkably calm voice, “this man is not your father, you have no living relatives, tomorrow everyone you know will think you are dead, if you don’t want to prove them right, do not struggle with me for the next half-hour, after that…struggle and fight all you want.” The smile that he ended this statement with was what really won me over. At the sight of that smile I fell headlong into the biting quiver of fear that was overpowering my stomach. I nodded my agreement and the ogre-man slowly stood up, relieving my body of his weight. He flopped me over onto my belly, and then pulled my arms tautly back behind me. “Gerald” stepped in front of me and held my arms in that position as ogre-man bent my legs at the knees and pulled my feet back to where they were touching my hands.
“Now grab your feet and hold them like that.” I did as I was told and within a few minutes I was tied up in that position, with a circlet of rope going around my throat. Next I was to find out the purpose of the steak knife. The ogre-man cut the shoulder straps of my shirt, then grabbed the back of it and in one harsh swipe, half-cut, half-ripped my shirt off. My bare nipples pressed into the dingy carpet of the living room. Then the knife was digging down the sides of my shorts causing an ugly tearing sound, as the denim was pulled apart. First one side, then the other, then a hand between my legs, and then I was wearing nothing but a cheap, blue thong. The ogre-man didn’t bother cutting it; he simply ripped it off, momentarily lifting me off the ground as he did so. In this new and very vulnerable position I learned what the reasoning of my position in the ropes was. In order to keep my arms from dislocating from the shoulder sockets, I was forced to keep my thighs spread as far apart as possible, thus exposing my pussy, and spreading my ass-cheeks wide. The fear in my belly was now a roar of confusion, anger, hate, sadness, and…just a tinge, of excitement.
With his work seemingly complete, the ogre-man walked back out of the house, momentarily leaving ‘Gerald’ and myself alone. He walked into the kitchen and came back out a few seconds later with a styrofoam cup in his hand. He began laughing and I felt something lightly thump me in the head. It bounced into full view a moment later, a boiled-fucking-peanut. A moment later, I could hear the ogre-man walking back into the house, and he was speaking to another person. I didn’t have to wait long to be introduced to this new voice. A stately, gray-haired man, in a tailor-made suit stepped in front of me. His hair was cropped short, and neat, and the only visible jewelry was a large, gold and onyx pinky ring on his left hand.
“Why hello there” he said to me in mock surprise “so nice to finally meet you. I see you have already met Bruno,” he motioned to the ogre-man “and I believe you and Gerald have a long history together.” As he mentioned “Gerald” I let my eyes fall away from him, quite simply, it was all too much to register, and I just didn’t care at that moment. “Well then, my name is Sansil, and I think we should all go outside for some fresh air, so I can discuss matters at hand with Gerald, sound good everyone?” No one answered and Sansil quickly headed out towards the backyard. Gerald and Bruno each took a spot at my sides and were about to lift me up when Gerald stopped and asked Bruno “You ever heard of such a thing as a Six-pack hold, Bruno?” “What do you mean?” “It’s when you carry a woman around the same way you would a six-pack of beer, you stick your middle finger in her pussy and your thumb in her asshole. I’ve always wanted to see that done, I just imagine it’s fucking hysterical. Say, would you humor me?”
A moment later I felt Bruno’s fat fingers simultaneously digging into my near as dry pussy and my virgin butt-hole. I writhed and bucked for a second, but the circlet of rope around my throat quickly tightened so that I was choking on the fake cock and fuck-lube that were stuffed into my mouth. I sneezed violently and a small glob of lube trickled out of my nose. This brought a chuckle from both men. I began to cry again as Bruno worked his middle finger deep into my pussy, then forced his thumb all the way into my asshole. When he lifted me off of the ground like that I felt as if he was going to pull my guts out. Thankfully, Gerald was laughing uncontrollably at the sight of this, and seeing no reason to further strain himself, Bruno set me down.
“Well how-dee-doo, I think she’s actually getting wet, smell this.” I heard Gerald take a deep whiff, and a second later Bruno’s fingers were at my face. He wiped his thumb and middle finger across my upper lip and my nostrils were filled with the smell of my sex and my ass. My crying only grew stronger as I realized that I was indeed getting wet. With no more amusement forthcoming, the two men picked me up and carried me out to the backyard. Sansil was seated at the edge of the goldfish pond, and casually pointed to a spot near his feet where the men set me down. Sansil propped his feet up on top of my head. Gerald pulled up a chair and sat down beside him.
“Uh, Bruno, go on inside and get ready. We’ll be back in shortly.” “Sure thing boss.” With Bruno gone the two men sat quietly for a few moments, Gerald ate his boiled peanuts and tossed the hulls at my quivering bottom, with my tender, pink, asshole being the apparent bulls-eye. A fire ant bit into my right nipple, causing me to buck and knock Sansil’s feet from my head.
“Woe, bitch! Careful, these are very nice shoes. Give me one of those Gerald.”
I soon felt Sansil’s hand on my bottom, then the moist shell of a boiled peanut was poking into the rim of my anus, with a little effort it was pressed half-way in and then left there.
“Now Gerald, you seem to have done a wonderful job these last few years, I must say. I admit when you hatches this insanity of a plan, I was already making offers to have you killed, but now, to see the fruition, the final payment, well I think you may have very well paid off your debt and earned a little extra as well.” “I been tellin’ you all along that it would work, people’ll pay top dollar to live out rape fantasies with a bona-fide ‘willing victim’- she may not be good for shit else, but this lost little lady is pure-bred high-class ass in the sack. Hell the little bitch jerks off almost twice a day! This admission was perhaps worse and more shameful than my rather ‘open-ended position’ because of its truth. How Gerald had come to know my masturbation habits, I may never know.
“Oh yes, I am sure…actually, I took the liberty of approaching a few prospective clientele already. Her first appointment, if all goes well through her breaking-in phase, will be next week. I’ve already had all the social work done as cleaning and ending her records, so, you should be clear to that end as of tomorrow morning. Bruno will bring in your own documents and a little cash to get you on your feet again as soon as we are done inside, speaking of which, shall we get started?” “I’d love to!” As this conversation played out behind me, I had begun to kind of ‘let go’ in means of speaking. My tears had subsided and I had found an almost comfortable nook in my bonded position on the dirt. If not for Sasil’s heel planted on the top of my head and the soggy peanut hull in my ass, I might have passed out completely. To this day I wish I had. With Gerald’s last comment, Sasil stood from his seat and called Bruno to come and help Gerald carry back inside. Being that I was faced out towards the pond, it wasn’t until I was back inside and lying on the carpeted floor again that I saw Bruno was now completely naked, save for a hood like towel hanging over his stiff and enormous erection.
Now I suppose my mind had run over the idea a few times so far that I might be raped, indeed most likely would, and Gerald’s declaration for my future as it was told outside, had not passed me without some mental recognition, but I suppose I had just been ‘rolling with it’ until this. Bruno’s prick was nigh on a foot long and as thick as plumbing pipe. I can’t lie, I was so scared I pissed myself at the site of him standing there, lording his cock over my bound figure.
“Boss, she pissed herself! I’m not touching that filth!” “Relax, the poor dear is probably just a bit intimidated…just take her in the bathroom and hose her off.”
With that Bruno yanked me up, nearly pulling my arm out of the socket, and dragged me down the hall into the bathroom, were I was unceremoniously thrown into the bathtub. Sadly, the next part of my degradation was a twist of my own, as I had purchased one of those high-powered, massaging shower heads with the hose attachment, as a gift for myself just a few days prior. Bruno took the massage head down and stuffed it up between my legs before turning the water on to a lukewarm. He then left me there, gagging on a rubber cock and fuck-lube, a nipple still burning from a fire ant bite, a peanut in my ass, with a massaging shower head pumping jet streams of warm water over my clitoris and vaginal lips. What an asshole, right?
What happened next is probably the reason that I am writing this memoir today, it is really the reason that I have dealt with the past year of my life without going crazy or committing suicide. Sasil walked into the bathroom alone, and I heard Bruno and Gerald laughing with each other as he shut the door behind him. He walked over, placed a towel down on the toilet seat and sat down next to my prone figure.
“Now, I know this is all a lot for a dense girl to take in at one time, to be sure, if you were a great philosopher, it would be a great deal to take in.” Amused at his own wit, as I would later come to know he often was, he continued with a small chuckle. “In a few moments, Bruno is going to come in and cut you loose, he’s going to rub the muscles in your legs and arms so that there is no stiffness in them from your bondage, then he is going to lock you in here for one minute. Now in that one minute, I highly suggest that you prepare to defend yourself, because when he unlocks that door, he is going to come in here, and shove that abolition of a cock so far up your cunt that you’ll be flossing semen out from between your teeth tomorrow. He’s going to fuck you from one end of this house to the other, and he’s going to be very rough. I don’t personally believe that you can do anything to stop him, but I am hoping that you can slow him down, you see, I want to gauge your physical abilities, your stamina, your instincts, your reflexes…I need to see what paying customers can look forward to.” With that he stood up, and was about to leave, when he stopped and turned to me once more. “Oh yes, and just a bit of motivation for you, if you survive this life long enough to make me a fortune, I’ll give you the opportunity to repay Gerald for this ten-fold. I should think you would look forward to that, considering he has paid a small sum to see Bruno fuck you in the ass while holding your head in the toilet during this little exhibition. I don’t know why he seems to dislike you so much, you seem like a perfectly likable young lass to me.”
With that he turned and left me to my coming struggles.
To Be Continued…