Returning to the old house brought back a flood of memories. Its musty walls and
dark passages, peeling paint and greasy wallpaper released those memories into
my receptive mind. Every creak reminded me of my childhood. Stains held the
faces of ghosts from my past, a parade of ghosts that spanned twelve years.
Almost all made an impact on my life. One gave me Susan, my twelve-year-old
daughter. Another gave me Samantha, my ten-year-old. At twenty-five, I still had
not found Mr. Right. The ghosts from my youth clouded his image. I probably
wouldn't recognize him if he fell on me. When Mom died, she left me with a
warehouse of conflicting emotions and a boarding house of old ghosts. Daddy
built the big three story house. He and Mom raised eight kids in it. I came
along as the youngest was leaving the nest. I was an oops. They were both in
their late forties when I arrived. Daddy died two years later. I don't remember
him at all. Mom remained in the house and began letting out rooms to help make
ends meet. We had six rooms to let out. In my early years, I recall lots of
college kids and single women, some had babies. As I neared puberty, she rented
exclusively to men, mostly older men. Some would say, dirty old men. She never
kept the place up; and, after a few years, the only people interested in a room
from us were bums, winos, drifters, and men hiding from their past. A passing
police cruiser would send them scurrying. The third floor was reserved for the
transients. It had three rooms and a common bath. When the toilet ran
constantly, Mom turned off the water to the tank. The men flushed by filling a
bucket from the tub. She never went up there after that, and that was the last
repair we made. I had to go up each week. It was my job to collect rent money.
Mom made me wear a short, thin dress with no underwear on rent day. On the
second floor was another three rooms--mine, and two for fairly stable residents.
We also shared a bath that I kept spotless. Mom got a kick out of making me
share a bathroom without door locks with two men. She would not permit me to
block the door shut, nor could I hang a curtain for the tub. After blocking it
several times against her orders, she removed the door completely. She removed
my bedroom door a month later, using it to replace one on the third floor. I
never knew what privacy was after the age of ten. On the ground floor was the
living room, kitchen/dining room, Mom's bedroom, and the suite (the former den
reserved for Mom's favourite). She shared her bathroom with him. His room cost
ten dollars more a week than those on the second floor, twice what the rooms on
the third floor went for. The others had to use the outside stairs to each floor
to come and go. He was the only guest allowed downstairs and had full use of the
downstairs facilities. Mom treated him as though he were part of the family; he
could even boss me around. Susan's father was a suite guest but a sour molester.
Mom was never what you might call attractive. Besides being old, overweight, and
sloppy, she had bad teeth and more facial hair than most of the men we rented
to. The only time I ever saw anyone flirting with her was on rent day. Rents
were due weekly. Those who fell too far behind were condemned to share her bed.
If they fell further behind, or something better was late, out they'd go. Mom
was a pig, but in a strange way, we loved each other. It was a love hate
relationship on both sides. I knew she resented my youth and beauty. I knew she
got off on placing me in vulnerable situations. She knew I resented being used
as amusement or as bait to lure lovers to her bed. I also hated her sloppy
habits and having to do all the work necessary to make living in the house
possible. I moved out (ran away, actually) at the age of fifteen and never
returned. The house was mine by default: no one wanted anything to do with it.
One walking tour through the place and I knew why. Ten years of trash and
accumulated filth rendered the house worthless. Mom's second and third mortgage
made it a white elephant. What possessed me to take it was a mystery to me then,
but I took it. It was mine, mortgages and all. It took me, Susan, and Sam
(Samantha) three months just to haul the trash to the dump. We got help from a
reclusive teenage boy who lived behind us. He drove his father's old pickup
truck back and forth between the house and the dump on weekends. With the money
I got from the sale of my car, we bought paint, cleaning supplies, and repair
materials. Benjamin and his father, Roy, helped with repairs, asking only for a
home cooked meal in return. I used to baby-sit Benjamin, and Roy was the first
man to put his hand in my panties at the age of eight. We began with the third
floor rooms and rented those out as quickly as we could. I had a mortgage to
meet. By the end of our third month, the second floor was ready. Sam and Susan
had my old room, but the bath had a lock. Those second floor rooms I intended to
rent to female college students. They remained empty, however, as I turned away
one man after another. In a panic, I accepted two renters that were every bit as
low as mom ever rented to. The girls didn't like it, and complained bitterly
about the way those men ogled them. I knew exactly what they were going through,
but we remained in a pinch. I begged their indulgence. The downstairs took
another two months to complete, but it was better than I ever remembered it
being. The project kept us behind in the mortgage payment, so I was never in a
position to be giving our boarders a hard time. As a consequence, when the
second story men bored holes through the bathroom door to spy on the girls, I
said nothing. When they broke the door lock, I said nothing. I replaced the lock
three times, then removed the door. When the girls hung curtains, I took them
down, using the lame excuse that fire codes did not permit them. They protested,
just as I had done, but they learned to live with the situation. I had no
intention of running the house as my mother had done, but I soon found myself
doing exactly that. Circumstance conspired to bring that about. I suppose the
same thing happened to my mother. When you must rent to dirty old men, and you
must put up with their shit, and you have a sexy young daughter or two, what's a
mother to do. You can't keep fighting it. Like trying to hold back a storm tide,
you just wear out and the water keeps rising. Mom surrendered, and so did I. Not
a day went by that I didn't have to listen to what those men did on walking into
the bathroom and finding a little girl on the toilet, or taking a bath. I knew
the tales; I lived them all. I've had winos pee between my legs while I sat on
the toilet, pee in my bath, and pee on me while in my bath. I've had them wipe
their drippy dicks on my face. I've been wiped and washed and scrubbed between
my legs with a toilet brush. I've been dried until my skin glowed red,
especially in my crotch, and I've been raped in my bathroom too many times to
count. Samantha was probably conceived in that bathroom. Complain as they did,
they got the same answer I got: "My hands are tied, kid. We are behind in the
mortgage. If he moves, we could lose the house. You'll just have to put up with
it for a little while longer." A dramatic change came over me when I first
walked through that house after ten years. I became horny. So much of my
sexuality was tied to that house. I never experienced sex like that after moving
away. My daughters noticed the change almost immediately. As I took them on the
tour, I stopped along at various places and described, in lurid detail, a scene
of sexual molestation that was perpetrated on me there. I enjoyed the retelling.
I enjoyed the look of shock and bewilderment my stories generated. Their lives
up to that point had been rather protected and sedentary. They'd spent much of
their formative years in my brother's home. My brother and his family are
straight arrows, conservative to a fault. I was in and out of their lives for
much of that time. Their knowledge of sex was extremely limited. They were as
innocent as I was, and I took great pleasure in telling them they had no choice
but to tolerate the indecencies and the loss of privacy. I looked forward to the
day when the first came to me holding her sore pussy, crying about the nasty man
who put his thing in her vagina. Hopefully, before that day came, I could get
them to stop calling a cock a thing and a pussy a vagina. I'd hold her, soothe
her, and make her tell mommy all about it. And then, I'd tell her there was
noting I could do about it. I'd tell her to be nice to the man so he wouldn't
move out, but to be sure and tell mommy everything he does. I'd then wipe her
pussy and legs, swat her playfully on the fanny and send her out to play. I
figured the first would be Samantha, oddly enough. She took to exposure like a
politician. She liked it when the men peed between her legs and hit her vagina
with their piss stream. She liked having the men scrub her in the tub and dry
her. Susan reported that her sister often ran around naked and went into the
men's' rooms with them. I knew Sam wasn't getting screwed; she would tell me.
She freely admitted sucking on their cocks until the stuff came out. I praised
her for making the men happy, and told her that, thanks to her, they would
probably stay. Susan could not believe I did that. Susan was more like me at
that age: shy, modest, inhibited, and submissive. She has my features. The girls
have different fathers and look nothing alike. Sam is dark with curly hair, a
precocious little nymph; Susan is light blond, fair skinned, with long straight
hair, a budding Barbie doll. Both look adorable, but Susan is developing into
her woman's body and is self-conscious of her titties and pussy curls. Susan
tries to avoid the men, using the bathroom when the men are away or asleep. She
complains about every intrusion, and complains most bitterly about Sam's habit
of alerting the men when Susan is in the bathroom. Sam watches her sister's
ordeal and reports from her perspective after Susan lodges her complaint. I get
to hear two versions of her abuse. I hope to hear two versions of her rape.
After listening attentively to both versions of how she was forced to spread her
legs to allow both men to piss into the toilet, and how they hit her vagina on
purpose; or how one held her up-side-down while the other scrubbed the inside of
her vagina with her own toothbrush; or the time they drained her bath water then
took turns pissing on her as she sat naked in an empty tub; how they lifted Sam
and encouraged her to piss on her sister as well; I'd offer my sympathies,
re-explain our plight, then tell her to be nice. She was further vexed when,
instead of berating Sam for getting the men, I hugged her and told her she was a
rascal. From the start, they also got to see me in my slut mode. Roy offered to
help out for meals, but he obviously wanted more. He wanted me. He was pretty
obvious about that, too. I worked in loose shorts and a knotted shirt without
underwear. I made Roy's job hard by making his dick hard. His son, Benjamin, had
the same difficulty when I worked with him or the two together. I put on
shameless exhibitions that made the girls giggle when they'd see what the guys
were seeing. After our first meal together, I got up and went to Roy. I took his
hand and purred, "Desert will be served in the bedroom if you're not too full."
He followed right behind me with his tongue dragging. I took my blouse off on
the way. We fucked with the door ajar and I was quite vocal. He went out and
asked Ben if he wanted desert. Ben eased in and found me sprawled naked on my
bed with his father's cum pouring out of my open hole. He shut the door and
nervously stripped on his way to my beaver. I gave that kid the ride of his
life, his first fuck. Afterwards, I went out naked with cum pouring down my legs
clear to my heels. I made a special effort to parade myself before my astonished
daughters. Susan would not look down; Sam would not look up. After that, if the
guys saw something, they grabbed it. This often led to an on-the-spot fucking,
often with the girls looking on. Before the first man moved onto their floor,
they'd seen it all: fucking, cunt lapping, cock sucking, and butt fucking.
Before our first tenant moved in, they both had received numerous bare bottomed
spankings from Roy, and later, Benjamin. Susan was the first, and she got it a
week after that first meal. With so much to be done, I had no difficulty finding
fault with their work. I noticed that Roy had difficulty keeping his eyes off
Susan's ass and legs. I made them both work in the tiny bikinis I'd bought them.
Susan hated hers; Sam loved hers. Both looked adorable in them. Having to do a
great deal of stooping and bending around the guys, gave the guys amply
opportunity to steal peeks. Roy was blatant about it and picked on Susan. He
liked to send her up a ladder while he held it for her, then direct her in
meaningless chores, all the while with his face near her butt. He'd position the
ladder so that she had to reach far out, left or right, forcing her to throw one
leg out as a counter balance. It didn't matter if I was right there beside him,
he'd get his nose in her crotch. This drove Susan to distraction, but if she
faltered, or brought her leg down, I'd give her ass a smack and push her leg
higher. On that first night, she was being punished for dropping a pallet of
patching compound after Roy tried to snake his tongue under the crotch of her
suit. I instigated the incident. While holding her leg up overhead, I stuck out
my tongue, flicking air, a dare to Roy who was sniffing her crotch. His tongue
slithered under the leg band at the crotch, and the spackle hit the floor. Roy
kept licking, and I kept holding the leg for him, so she got her twat licked
anyway. Afterwards, I took Roy aside and told him of my plan to punish Susan
after our desert fuck. I asked him to deal with it. His smile almost cracked his
weathered face. After giving Ben his desert, I walked out nude, as usual. I told
Susan that she would be punished by Roy for dropping the spackle compound that
afternoon. I turned to Roy and said, "You handle her as you see fit, Roy. I'm
sure you know how to discipline naughty young ladies. I'm sure you appreciate
the value of humiliation in curbing bad behaviour. I give you a free hand with
her." Susan's face fell. She went ghost white. Roy took her by the arm and
strong-armed her into the living room. We all hurriedly took seats around him
when he sat on the sofa with Susan trembling before him. The girls still had
their suits on, so she was almost naked anyway. Roy wanted her nude. He ordered
her to strip. Susan pleaded and tears welled in her eyes. She was most upset by
having Ben watch. The two had been flirting with each other. Ben was no catch,
but to a twelve-year-old, he, at seventeen, was a prize to attract or practice
on. Ben was licking his lips in anticipation. My response was to laughingly say,
"Come on sweetie, lets see those new titties. And I'm sure Ben is dying to see
what you have between your legs. You've been waving that pussy in his face all
week." I got us all clapping and chanting in unison, "Strip! Strip! Strip!"
Susan stood trembling and mortified, but her fingers went to the ties. Her top
went first, then the bottoms. When they fell, she stood in a modest pose,
covering her tits with one arm and her crotch with a hand. Roy made her stand up
straight with arms at her sides. Stiffly, she assumed the pose. He then made her
move her feet out wide, very wide. He made her place her hands on her lower ass,
and lean far back. She did it, but only after a fierce internal struggle ending
in total surrender. Sam got down and sat by Susan's left foot and reached up to
poke and pry at Susan's pussy. Susan begged me to stop Sam, but I said nothing.
This emboldened Sam, who began penetrating both of Susan's intimate openings.
Before long, she took to prying her sister's cunt lips open and toying with her
clit. Ben was leaning out for a close look while I sat back, snuggled up to Roy.
Roy lectured Susan on being a responsible helper, dragging out her ordeal. When
it came time for her spanking, he sat on the forward edge of the sofa and had
her lay far over his lap with her head resting on the floor. This had her ass
up. We moved her knees apart and gathered around to look down on her exposed
pussy. We all toyed with her luscious pussy. She lubricated profusely. Her
private parts swelled with her unwanted arousal. While we amused ourselves with
her pussy and asshole, Roy delivered hand spanks where he could. Her punishment
lasted twenty minutes. She probably took a hundred smacks. Her ass and thighs
were bright red, and her inner thighs were sopping wet. You'd think she'd pissed
herself. Roy let her up, but made her stand in a corner facing out with her legs
apart and arms behind her. Her wetness ran down her legs. She was so humiliated.
I remember my first public spanking at the hands of Mom and three male perverts.
I remember it often, but only when I can masturbate. The way I saw it, I gave
Susan a gift to last a lifetime. She did not appreciate my gift, but in time,
she would. Every workday ended with one or both girls getting a similar
punishment. Sam looked forward to her punishments. She was bad on purpose. Susan
never did grow accustomed to them, but never put up a fuss and never cried after
the first. In the weeks that followed, before we took in our first guests, the
girls had to work in the nude. Susan seldom worked without a finger or tongue in
her pussy or butthole. Sam invited them. They weren't exactly innocent when the
first man moved onto their floor. Both were still virgins, however. Susan knew
the score. She knew I was getting my jollies by putting her in sexual harm's
way. She knew it was only a matter of time before she'd get screwed. As I had
with my mom, she grew to accept her fate, and accept her mother as she was. She
didn't understand me, but she still loved me. I understood perfectly. Sam was
difficult for me to relate to. She wanted it all, never once showing any
reluctance. She ate up sex as we fed it to her and had a big appetite for it.
She was fun to watch, but not nearly as exciting to watch as Susan. Watching
Susan was like looking at myself going back in time. I could almost read her
every thought. I knew she truly hated being made vulnerable, hated being made to
expose herself, hated the humiliating spankings, hated the dirty old men, and
hated the loss of bathroom privacy. I also knew that alone in her bed at night,
her finger stole between her legs as her mind recalled every detail. I confirmed
this by going to her room, late at night while they slept, and sniffing her
fingers. The fingers of both hands reeked of pussy musk. Besides, Sam often
caught her in the act and never failed to report what she saw at a time when I'd
be talking to a guest, a prospective guest, a neighbour, or meter man. These
were terribly humiliating experiences for Susan, but great opportunities for me
to expose her to new eyes. I would act upset and excuse myself from the visitor
to address the problem. I would ask Sam to show me what her sister was doing.
Sam, of course, would try to uncover Susan's crotch. I'd make Susan put her
hands behind her back and remain still. Sometimes, I'd slap her to make her stay
still. Before Sam proceeded, I'd turn to the shocked visitor and say, "If you
are uncomfortable, you can wait in another room or turn your back." In all the
years we played this same scenario, no one ever went away or turned their back;
not women, not family men, not even the police who often stopped by to look for
my residents. What followed went something like this: Sam would uncover Susan's
sex, then use her own hands to simulate what she saw. The position was never
right, so I'd make Susan lie down either on the floor or on the sofa. There, Sam
would sit astride her sister's chest facing her feet and show what Susan was
doing with her hands, in effect masturbating her, doing her damnedest to fully
expose all of her sister's intimate anatomy before an astonished visitor. I'd
permit this to go on and on while lecturing Susan about her nasty habit. I would
drag this out until Sam had a chance to induce an orgasm that Susan couldn't
resist or hide. I would then berate her for deriving pleasure from the exposure
and tell her to expect a punishment. Susan hated this as well, but learned to
accept it. She learned never to challenge Sam's accusation; consequently, Sam
was free to fabricate incidents to meet any occasion of opportunity. Therefore,
most of our new residents were first introduced to my Susan's naked pussy,
obscenely displayed, and whipped into a froth. You can imagine how forward they
would be with her after such an exhibition of her lusty nature and feminine
charms. It was Susan's job to go around to collect the weekly rents. She hated
this, too. For her rent collecting uniform, I had a special dress made of shear,
see-through material. From the waist up was an elastic, body-hugging, white
spandex that moulded her form and showed her breasts quite clearly. A simple
finger pull would pop the top below them. Her skirts billowed just below her ass
cheeks and she wore nothing under the dress. With the dress, she wore high
heels. She was a sight. On her first collection day, we had only two residents
on the third floor. The first guy made her show him her tits before handing over
the money. The second made her take the dress off and assume obscene poses for
him in her heels. He kept her for over an hour. She had instructions from me to
do whatever was necessary to get the money. She came stomping down the stairs,
carrying the dress, her body covered in sperm strands. She walked up and handed
me the bills, saying, "Here, Mom, there's your stupid rent money. I did what was
necessary. I hope you're happy." I simply smiled, counted the money, and said,
"You did very well. Are you still a virgin?" "Yes, but I won't be for long if I
have to keep collecting the rent in this stupid dress." "Well, I guess you won't
be for long, then, huh?" She stormed off to her room exactly as I had done
thirteen years before her. Her second collection day had three residents on the
third floor. The first wanted to see tits and pussy this time. The second had
her strip, pose, and fingered her. The new resident made her strip and
masturbate for him while he jerked off on her fingers. She was gone for two
hours. After a month, we had the second and third floor rooms filled, five
residents. Her collections took four hours and she had to suck off one of her
floor mates. She came to me, naked, with cum running from the corners of her
mouth. She handed over the money. I thanked her. I was surprised that after two
months of collections, she still had her virginity intact. I had to surrender
mine on my second outing. It became a tossup between Sam and Susan for first
prize, and I wondered what was taking those guys so long. Was I more
intimidating than my mother. I doubted that. Was she more obvious in her desire
to set me up? I didn't think I could be more obvious. I practically presented
Susan to them on a silver platter, and permitted Sam to visit their rooms in the
nude. She roamed the entire house, even the third floor. They all knew that I
knew what was going on and said nothing about it. It was all very puzzling. I
was just about to send her out on her next rounds wearing only push up bra,
crotchless panties, and heels when Sam came bounding downstairs excitedly
saying, "Mom, hurry, Susan's getting fucked!" We both ran up the stairs and Sam
led me to their room. She threw open the door and there, on her own bed, was
Susan getting humped by her next door neighbour and floor mate, Terrence, a
sixty-year-old retired railroad worker. He knew we were standing in the doorway,
but he kept pumping away. Susan laid limply and took it while looking at me with
this I-hope-you're-satisfied-now look on her face. Before he came, her legs came
up and she dug her heels into his buttocks. He came with her pulling him deep.
When he collapsed on her, I walked up and said, "If you plan to keep on fucking
my daughters whenever the mood hits you, I'm doubling your rent. Either that, or
pay by the fuck. A fuck is five bucks from either one. You decide, but decide
right now. This fuck is on the house." He rolled off and looked up to me. He
smiled and said, "Double my fucking rent." His rent went from fifty to
one-hundred bucks a week. After resting for an hour, he fucked Sam. I got to
watch that as well. His other floor mate heard about the deal he had and came to
me with an additional fifty bucks. I smiled, took it, and followed him to the
girl's room where I watched him screw them both and cum in Susan. The next day,
a guy from the third floor was at my front door with forty bucks in hand, the
other half of his doubled rent. I smiled and took it. The other two third floor
residents could barely handle forty a week for a room, let alone more for
unlimited pussy. They compensated, however, by putting Susan through her paces
on rent day. Each kept her busy for over an hour and made her fuck for the rent
money. Just like mother, I was soon running an in-house whore house, and making
a tidy profit. I used the extra money to fix up the downstairs nicely. The suite
got special attention. I wanted a special man to occupy it, a man for me to play
with. He had to be a working man, under forty, handsome, and in shape. I knew
I'd be interviewing many people before finding a suitable applicant, but I
wasn't pressed for time or money. What I didn't realize was that renting laws
had changed since the old days. Landlords could not discriminate by age, sex, or
race. A young college co-ed challenged me with a law suit if I didn't let her
have the room. I had no choice, I rented the suite to her. The arrangement was
very strained for a while. She knew she had full access to the downstairs, my
bathroom (which was part of my bedroom and I could not lock her out), the
kitchen, and TV. She was a feisty little shit, a freshman, cuter than hell. She
was a cheerleader and was elected prom queen at her old high school. She was
also a track star with an athletic build, a tight bundle of firm hard flesh. Her
trophies filled her room. Her big tits looked out of proportion to her petit
frame. They vibrated when she walked. She stood five two and weighed one-hundred
and ten pounds. Her full head of long chestnut hair framed a face right off of
Sweet Sixteen magazine. The girl was too cute for her own good, and too innocent
to remain a virgin in my house. She was raised on a farm, and I was certain she
was a virgin. She prayed before eating and never dated. She aspired to nursing
and missionary work after college. We had nothing in common, so we had little to
talk about. We did, however, grow comfortable with each other. My girls loved
her, and she loved talking and playing games with them. I knew that sooner or
later, Nancy would find out what went on upstairs. I told her she could not go
up there. I also told the girls not to talk about our private lives with Nancy.
Nancy also put a crimp in my sex life, which I came to resent more and more. I
had met several men who were welcome to stop by anytime for a quickie or an all
nighter. Besides Ben and Roy, there were five others, including Terrence. I
wasn't about to change my habits for her. The inevitable happened three days
after she moved in. She walked right into my bedroom on her way to the bathroom
while a man was pumping me. I watched her reaction as she marched right past and
into the bathroom, pretending not to see anything. She stayed in the bathroom
for much longer than any good dump takes. I knew she was waiting us out. I was
determined to give her a sight she'd never forget. I had my man sit on the edge
of the bed nearest the bathroom door and lay back. I mounted him facing the
door, waiting. When the door knob moved, I leaned back on my straight arms and
bobbed my pelvis up and down on his shaft. That's what she saw when she opened
the door, and the sight froze her for a few seconds. She went red as she stared
at my cunt sliding up and down a ten-inch cock. She made her way out and never
said a word. By the look on her face, I figured she was packing. I was wrong.
Though we tried to tone things down, Nancy caught bits and pieces of my other
activities. She liked to do her reading from a chair that had a view up the
stairwell. From her seat, she got glimpses of naked little girls and naked old
men going back and forth from the bathroom to the bathrooms. She observed me
collecting one-hundred dollars from Terrence and Henry for a week's rent. She
knew my girls shared a bathroom with the men, one with no door. Sam let that
slip. What I was not aware of was that she could hear. The girl's bedroom was
over hers. I carried her folded towels to her one day. She invited me into her
room. I set them on her dresser while she sat on her bed against the headboard
with her knees drawn up, reading a book. The unmistakable sounds of people
fucking filtered from overhead. We could hear a stressed out kid's bed thumping
rhythmically and the sound of Susan's voice saying, "Yes! Yes! Ohh...Uhh!" Nancy
grimaced a shy question and said, "You're pimping them, aren't you?" I said,
"What do you know about pimping?" "I'm not stupid. I do read and watch movies.
Don't worry. What you do is your business. They're your kids." "But you
disapprove." "It's not for me to approve or disapprove. It's not a perfect
world. A woman on her own does what she has to get by." I took a seat on her bed
with a view up her short skirt. I had a good view of her crotch. My first good
look revealed that her pink panties were skewed and wet. The left leg band was
caught in her slit, leaving her left labia lip and clit exposed to my eyes. I
had obviously interrupted her finger play. To confirm this, I looked to her wet
fingers and smiled. Nancy saw where my eyes kept darting. She blushed a deep
red. I enjoyed making her uncomfortable and settled lower, closer, resting on my
elbow. Looking right at her twat, I said, "So, it doesn't bother you that I rent
my little girl's pussies to horny old men?" "No, like I said, that's your
business--literally, I suppose." I remained staring hard at her exposed cunt,
making her anxious. She said, "Do you have to stare at me there?" "I don't have
to, I want to." "Yes, if you must know, I was masturbating. Every girl does.
I'll bet you do it, too." "You're right; we all do. I was just admiring your
pussy from a professional viewpoint." I kept staring, and moved closer, placing
my head at her feet. She didn't try to cover herself, but said, "What do you
mean?" "I am in the pussy selling business, you know." "But mine is not for
sale." "That doesn't mean I can't admire its potential, its marketability."
"Yeah...What would it bring?" "Oh, I don't know...Show me what you've got." "You
mean, show you my vagina?" "No, show me your pussy. Ladies have vaginas." She
drew a deep breath. She hesitated for a few moments, then her right hand drifted
down and hooked the crotch. She pulled it aside, exposing her sex completely. I
moved in closer, my head between her thighs. I said, "Very nice. Good form, full
labia lips, a firm standing clit, juices nicely, good hole symmetry, no
blemishes. I'll need to test the hole. A tight fit is most important. Do you
mind?" She gave a throaty, "I suppose." I reached out my index finger and slid
slowly in to the last knuckle. She let out a gasp and stiffened as I turned and
twisted my digit in her tight, slippery hole. I poked and probed her opening,
felt her hymen, then drew out and said, "I could get twenty bucks a pop for this
pussy. Double that for your cherry. Split fifty-fifty, of course." "Is that
good?" "It's good for this town. There's too much free pussy in a college town.
Free pussy drives the price down. You could go to the city and get two-hundred
for your cherry." "Wow. Can you really find men that would pay to have sex with
me?" "Sure, but I'll have to train you. The split is seventy-five twenty-five
for your first month. Your cherry fuck is all yours. It's a tradition." "Wow,
forty bucks. That's almost a week's rent just for letting a guy put his penis in
me." "We call it a cock, Nancy, and he won't just put it in, and you won't just
lay there like a fucking blow-up doll. He's paying for a fuck from a live pussy
that fucks back. That's what your training will teach you. I'll teach you how to
milk sperm from a cock using your cunt muscles." My words were getting to her.
She still held her crotch band aside and her index finger lazily stirred through
her slit. From years of direct sales, I knew to take an assumptive attitude with
her. I said, "Here, let me show you." I grabbed her by the hips and pulled her
down so that she lay flat on her back. This startled her, but I gave her no
chance to protest. I flipped back her skirt, then took her panties by the waist
band, telling her to lift up. She lifted and I moved her panties down and up her
thighs. She raised her legs and brought them together so I could remove her
panties. I then laid her legs out wide and brought my hand to her pussy. The
girl was panting with a full flush as I inserted my two middle fingers. She
moaned as I went deep. I let her adjust, then said, "Now squeeze my fingers.
Make like you have to pee real bad. Strain, girl. That's it, squeeze. Those are
the muscles we need to train. When I get through with you, you will be able to
suck sperm out of a cock without moving your hips." She lay there with a look of
bliss, squeezing on my fingers while I gently moved them in and out. I never saw
such a sexy sight. This girl was so turned on, so fresh and pure, so flawless.
Her pussy melted on my fingers as she rolled in a sensuous grind, moaning with
her eyes crossed, biting her lower lip. I reached my free hand to the top button
of her blouse and said, "Let's see what you have to offer in the tit
department." She watched me unbutton her blouse, unhook the center clasp, and
fold back the cups. She arched her breasts into my exploring hands. I pinched
her nipples and fondled her ample tit flesh while she rolled, lifting one then
the other. I said, "Nice, fuckable titties, Nancy. Good nipples too, tight,
chewable. Guys will love biting these babies. Press your tits together. Let's
see what kind of pussy you can make of them." She pressed her mounds in hard
from each side, bringing the nipples together. I said, "Excellent. They'll fuck
nicely. Can you suck your nipples?" She strained to reach them with her
outstretched tongue, but the firm flesh wouldn't permit the touch. She collapsed
her head back, saying, "I can't." "That's too bad. Perhaps we can stretch them.
Okay, let me see your hip action. Fuck yourself on my fingers." She planted her
feet on the mattress and heaved up in short finger-gobbling humps. I said, "Put
a rolling grind in it. That's it, gentle, not too much. Lift, drop, rock, and
roll, that's the name of the game. Keep your ass off the mattress. Do all the
work. Use those vaginal muscles, squeeze, always squeeze on the draw out. Think
of your cunt as a milking machine--a cock milking machine." The kid was going
out of her mind, moaning, "Uhhhh! Ohhhh! Yessssss! Fuckkkkkk!" I let her grind
out a good cum, then drew my fingers out of her soupy pussy. I stood looking
down on her as her eyes slowly opened. I said, "I guess you'll do. It'll take
some time to get you ready for your cherry fuck. I can't do it before the next
rent is due, but we can try for the one after that. I'll need help. You'll work
out all day and night. All of your free time will be spent in training. I can
get my girls to help." I went on in this way, giving her no opportunity to stop
me. She listened attentively. I went on, "Of course, you'll need to be ready at
all times. Clothes only get in the way. You'll remain nude while in the house.
That should be no problem. No one visits me that can't see a naked girl working
out. With no sign of protest from her, and seeing she still had that warm glow,
still laid with her legs wide apart and her tits out. I began casually taking
off my clothes while saying, "Of course, we will need free and easy access to
your cunt. You will learn to keep your legs apart while sitting our standing."
"What will you do to my pussy?" "We'll put training devices in you to condition
your pussy and asshole to accept foreign objects naturally. Things such as hot
dogs, candles, pop sickles, cucumbers, carrots, dildoes, fingers." "You mean you
guys will just walk up and stick things in me?" "Yes, and you'll learn to accept
them without blinking an eye. We will direct you in exercises to tone your
internal muscles, and we'll fuck you with those things and others. Sam may come
to you in your sleep and start fucking you with a dildoe. Susan might climb
under the table and slip a hot dog up your ass. I might finger you while you're
reading a book or doing homework. Do you have a problem with any of that?" As I
figured, she shook her head in a bit of a daze. By this time, I stood nude
before her. Nancy's eyes wandered my body. To seal the deal, I said, "You'll
need to watch me fuck. I'll bring you in on my screwing. I want you to get right
in there where the action is. Make a pest of yourself. You can't get too close.
If your face doesn't get wet, you weren't close enough." "You mean while the guy
is fucking you?" "When else? You might want to do the guy a favour and give his
cock and balls some tongue action. No guy will object to your head being in the
way if you're licking his cock and balls." "You want me to lick the man while
he's fucking you?" "Yes, what's you're problem?" "Nothing, I guess. It just
sounds so nasty." "This is a nasty business, Nancy. Sex is nasty if it's done
right. Now, it is customary for a novice to reward her trainer with her tongue.
Since you will have three trainers, you'd better learn how to tongue a pussy.
Have you ever sucked a cunt, Nancy?" "No, never." I climbed onto the bed and
threw my leg over her head before she could object. I was straddling her head
with my knees at her shoulders, holding myself up with my hands by her hips. I
looked back and said, "You should know where everything is and what feels good.
Probe the hole and suck the clit. That's about it. Here, you do what I do." With
that, I bent to her pussy and laid my upper body on her belly. Grasping her by
the ass, I pressed my mouth to her beaver. Shortly, I felt her hands grasp my
hips and pull as her face came into full contact with my pussy. I licked; she
licked. I stuck my tongue up her hole; she stuck her tongue up my hole. In this
way, I gave great head and got great head. When I had enough, and rolled off,
she followed and kept sucking and licking. I laid there and let her get her
fill. She lovingly lapped my twat. I knew I had her. She was hooked. The girl
was so horny and so naive, my mind worked overtime devising creative ways of
exploiting her for our pleasure. I was in no hurry to put her on the block,
though I knew I had a little gold mine. While she licked me, I invented new
rules for her that she nodded acceptance to while munching my pussy. I said,
"Your ass belongs to me unless you want to move out on your own, understand?
From now on, you use the whore's bathroom, upstairs. My daughters are senior
whores, you serve them as well as me until you pass your apprenticeship. You'll
do house work, and you'll serve our sexual needs. You will cook our meals and
clean up afterwards. You will attend our bathing, do our hair and makeup, and
clean our cunts after a fuck." She nodded vigorously. The girls came home from
school to find Nancy, naked, scrubbing the kitchen floor with a cucumber stuffed
up her ass and a foot long Polish sausage hanging half out of her twat. Nancy
had her ass to us and was scrubbing away with her shoulders low. They just stood
there and stared with their mouths open. I took them both into the bedroom and
explained everything. Sam was beside herself with excitement. Susan was just
awed by what I told her. She could not believe Nancy would stoop to such
degrading things. I told Susan to strip. She stripped and I led her to the
kitchen. I brought her to stand in front of Nancy, then said, "Nancy, show your
trainers what I taught you." Nancy took Susan by the hips and buried her face in
Susan's cunt. Susan's eyes went wide and her feet moved out. Soon, she was
humping her cunt on Nancy's tongue with a big smile on her face. Sam was on her
knees at Nancy's ass, playing with the stuffing, putting a wiggle in Nancy's
ass. I stood back and watched, pleased with my day's work. We could not have
asked for a more willing and obedient student. She balked at nothing. She
accepted every humiliation we could heap on her. Some were so outrageously
designed for the sole purpose of degrading her and humiliating her, she would
have had to be a total idiot not to see that. Nancy was no idiot. What drove her
only Nancy knows. She readily welcomed anything we could shove up her ass or
cunt and wore it until we took it out. I broke her cherry that first day when I
shoved the Polish sausage up her twat. I simply told her that her hymen meant
nothing and men couldn't tell the difference. She accepted that. She also took
unusual objects: Barbie dolls, shampoo bottles, soap bars, ice cubes, boiled
eggs, billiard balls, a roll of quarters, both ends of a baseball bat, a live
garter snake stuffed fully inside her pussy, and all kinds of food stuff.
Whatever we brought to her, she spread to receive. She was also kept on display
where anyone could see her. People came and went, but Nancy could not hide. All
my lovers got to see her and know her in action. I preferred to fuck doggie
style while over her with her head in my crotch. There, she licked us both and
the fuck dripped in her face. After a fuck, she ate my cunt. She also
accompanied Sam and Susan on their fucks, serving them likewise. Susan took her
along on her rent collections with Nancy wearing nothing but high heels. She
even had a shaved pussy, thanks to Sam. Roy set up a training device using the
dining table. He fashioned dildoes with flat wooden handles that fit between the
leaves. Closing the table on these left the dildoe mounted sticking up in the
table's center. We made Nancy straddle these devices and do squats on them with
her hands behind her neck. She had to settle until her cunt lips touched the
table's surface. We even used pop sickles as dildoes, making her fuck herself
until she was squatting on a stick with a freezing, syrupy twat. Often, while we
ate the dinner she had prepared, Nancy did squats on a dildoe set in the middle
of the table. We stretched her tits by using the table opened in the middle by
six inches. She'd lie face down on the table with her tits dangling through the
open space. We'd put clamps on her nipples and hang weights from them. This was
terribly painful for her, but she took it stoically. The more weight we placed
on her, the harder we had to set the clamps. She got to where we could hang one
gallon milk jugs filled with dirt from her nipples clamped flat, and we'd leave
her like that for hours. As a result, her tits got stretched, elongated, and her
nipples became three inches long. After two weeks, she could suck her nipples
without bending her head, and her tits hung two inches above her navel when she
stood erect. We did the same thing to her clit, making her sit astride the space
in the table. We used the same clamps and same weights with the same results.
After two weeks, she had a clit that was three inches long. It stuck out from
between her bald pussy lips like a little boy's cock. Everyone I knew intimately
knew Nancy was for sale. Her cherry was on the auction block. Guys would stop by
and examine her. The bidding, which Nancy was not aware of, got up to three
hundred dollars. She went to a local attorney. She got a free week's rent out of
it. After that, we put her ass on the block for twenty bucks a pop. I got
fifteen; she earned five towards the next week's rent. In her month of
apprenticeship, that little whore earned me two-thousand dollars. She got to
live rent free and earned herself two hundred besides. Nancy introduced me to
two of her college girl friends. I managed to move my second floor men out and
set them up there. We trained them as we had Nancy. The money rolled in. I got
rid of the men on the third floor, remodelled the entire house, and got three
more coeds to move in and go into training. I had a real whore house. Mom just
never saw the potential of the place, or didn't have my business savvy. I am one
rich lady today, but the town's folk call me Madam. The End
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