"Property Value"
by
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.
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“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.”
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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...
[Note: this story is protected by international copyright law,
all rights not expressly waived are reserved by its author.]
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