My Sex Slave

I was furious when I got off the phone with the bank rep. That fucking Lester! The stupid son of a bitch was dead! I went outside and climbed into my car. The tires left rubber on the street as I sped away. I drove to Lester’s house, ready to smash his face in. Defaulted on the loan. The fucker had defaulted on the goddamn loan.

Lester’s truck was not in the driveway, but I stalked up the walk and hammered on the door. His wife opened the door with a quizzical look, probably wondering why I had bypassed the doorbell.

“Hi, Nathan,” she said. I couldn’t remember her name. Judy? She might have been pretty at one time, but being married to that fucker, Lester, had taken its toll. Her brown hair was lanky and she wore no makeup. She was thin to the point of anorexic. I wondered how Lester could bang something so thin, but when she turned to invite me in, I saw that she had a decent ass. Her rack wasn’t bad, either. Enough for a handful, anyway. She would probably clean up okay.

“Where’s Lester?” I snapped.

“Out back, doing some work on the lawnmower.”

I didn’t bother to ask permission as I walked through the house and wrenched open the sliding glass door. Lester was bent over a rusting lawnmower with a number of tools spread out around him. He looked up in surprised when I approached. The color drained from his perpetually red face and I saw the oh fuck look appear.

I restrained myself—barely—from slamming my fist into his face. Lester stood up nervously.

“So, Lester,” I said in a relatively calm tone, “Want to tell me about the 40k you owe me? Do you have something to say about defaulting on the fucking loan?”

Lester’s throat worked as he swallowed. He looked like he wanted to bolt and run. If he tried that shit, I’d be on his ass and pounding his head into the ground before he took three steps. He seemed to realize that and the rabbit look disappeared.

“I meant to talk to you about that, Nate,” he said in a shaky voice.

“You meant to. When did you mean to, Lester? After my credit was totally fucked?”

“I… I had to use the money to pay off something!” Lester cried.

“I cosigned that loan for you to start your own business, Mr. Super Electrician. You said the loan would be paid off in six months.”

“I did start the business! I’ve got plenty of jobs lined up!”

“Then what the fuck is up with the loan? And what the hell did you ‘pay off’? Where’s your truck, Lester? Doesn’t seem like you paid that off.”

Lester licked his lips. He looked like he might throw up.

“I had to pay someone,” Lester said. I waited, not bothering to ask the expected question. Lester squirmed.

“I bet on a few races… a few games. Lost some money,” Lester admitted. “But all I need is another stake and I’ll win it all back! I nearly did last week—I was up ten thousand before I lost it… I swear, all I need is a stake.”

The urge to kill was strong. The son of a bitch had lost the money. Gambling.

“You gambled it? You have a fucking gambling problem and I cosigned a loan for you? You didn’t think to mention you had a goddamn gambling problem?”

“I don’t have a problem!” Lester protested hotly. I clenched my fists. The stupid bastard was in denial. That was just fucking great.

“How do you propose to pay me for this goddamn loan that I have to make payments on, Lester? Or should I take it out of your hide with a fucking tire iron? Because, right now, that’s looking like a pretty good option.”

Lester blanched, knowing I was mad enough to do it. He stepped back.

“I could… I could do electrical work for you!” he suggested in a squeaky tone.

“Forty thousand dollars in free electrical work? What the hell do I look like? A power plant? Do you know how many hours that would be, Lester? You want me to let you rewire my house four hundred times?”

Lester’s eyes flicked over my shoulder and I turned my head to see Lester’s wife standing at the door, peering out worriedly, obviously drawn by my shouting. She noticed our attention and vanished.

I turned back to Lester, who suddenly had a crafty look in his eyes.

“You could fuck my wife,” he said quickly. I actually laughed, not only at the unexpected comment, but from the sheer stupidity of it.

“You’re trying to tell me your wife is a forty thousand dollar fuck? Was she trained by whores in Paris?” My tone was beyond sarcastic and Lester flushed.

“No, no! I’m saying she can work it off—do whatever you want. She’s a total doormat! Jody will do anything in the sack. Hell, I’ve even had her do shit with other guys while I watched. She can clean for you, too… anything you say.”

“That’s pretty chicken shit to have your wife pay for your fucking stupidity.”

Even as I said it, I was recalling a story my friend Ray had told me. He had played poker with Lester one night a few months back—I should have seen the gambling problem signs, I suppose—and they had gotten pretty hammered on cheap beer. Lester had told his wife to strip in front of all the guys. Ray said she had protested at first, but once Lester started to get ugly about it, she had taken off all her clothes. Lester had made her fetch beer and food for a while, and then had caught her looking at one of the guys. Lester had immediately demanded that Jody—that was her name—get on her knees and suck the guy off. She hadn’t even fought at that point, just sort of crawled under the table and did it. Lester had made her give blowjobs to all the guys, and she had. Ray had chuckled with amazement when he told the story.

“She gave pretty good head, too,” Ray had concluded. “Probably from all the practice. No telling what kind of shit Lester makes her do. It’s pretty twisted.”

I thought about that story and Lester’s words. Anything, he had said. Any woman submissive enough to crawl under a table and suck off relative strangers had to be… Well, I couldn’t see Lester paying me any time soon, and at least I’d get something out of the deal. A fucking sex slave, if nothing else.

“All right, Lester,” I said coldly. “Here’s what I’m willing to do. You want to barter your wife’s cunt, that’s fine with me. For every weekend she spends at my place, I’ll knock five hundred bucks off the amount you owe me.” Lester was about to speak, but I cut him off. “Don’t even tell me that’s not fucking generous. I seriously doubt that pussy in there is worth fifty bucks a pop and there is no way I can get it up ten times a day for that, so just shut the fuck up and take the deal, or cough up 40k out of your ass.”

Lester licked his lips and I could see him trying to divide forty thou by five hundred. Try eighty weekends, Lester, old boy. And there are only fifty-two weeks in a year, so poor little Jody was in for a long, hard stretch.

Lester nodded gloomily.

“Drop the bitch off in my driveway on Friday night. Nine pm. You can pick her up at noon on Sunday. I’ve got stuff to do in the afternoon. In the meantime, you’d better do some electrifying and figure out how to pay this off and get your wife off the hook. If she leaves your ass, the money is still due.”

Lester nodded again and I went home, not even bothering to say goodbye to my new slave.

Week One

Jody stood nervously in the driveway and watched Lester drive away without even a wave. I rolled my eyes and tossed aside the rag I’d been using to wax my car. Jody held a small bag she wouldn’t need. I planned to make the weekend as miserable as possible for her, so that she would run crying home to Lester and catalyze the fucker into coughing up some cash.

I jerked a thumb at the door and Jody obediently turned and went inside. My house was a helluva lot nicer than theirs, and clean enough that I really didn’t need her for that purpose, although it would be nice not to have to scrub my own toilets and shower. I really hated the bathroom cleaning routine. I wondered what kind of cook she was. But first things first. She had barely dropped her bag next to the couch when I kicked my jeans off. My briefs followed and I sat on the couch with my legs spread. I clicked on the TV and raised an eyebrow at her.

“You might as well get your clothes off,” I said. “You won’t need them.”

She wore shorts and a tank top and she sighed deeply and took them off without a word before walking over and dropping to her knees. My dick wasn’t even hard—she was going to have to work for it. She reached out and grasped it with her hand. She stroked tentatively while I flipped through the channels. She leaned her head down and licked the length of it, which finally got a response. My cock twitched and thickened. She took it in and stroked vigorously with her mouth and hands. Ray had been right—she was pretty good. No gagging at all, even when I shot my load down her throat.

She sat back and wiped her lips.

“Can you cook?” I asked. She nodded and I gestured to the kitchen. “Part of your job will be cooking and cleaning while you’re here.”

She reached for her clothing, but I shook my head.

“Stay naked. Never know when I’ll be in the mood.”

Jody blushed, but got up and went to the kitchen obediently. I heard her rummage in there for a while and I watched Sportscenter. I thought about the blowjob and about her walking around naked in the kitchen and my dick slowly hardened up again. I tossed the remote aside and went to the kitchen. She was stirring a pot with something that smelled like spaghetti sauce.

“Turn it off,” I said. She looked at me in surprise and her eyes dropped to my crotch. She swallowed and her face showed something like fear. For some reason, it served to turn me on even more. I decided Lester would be fucking sorry he had chosen to use his wife to pay his debts.

She turned off the stove and I grabbed her by the hair. I dragged her to the table and pressed her face down on the wood, shoving aside the paperwork I’d been looking through earlier. I kicked her legs open and shoved my cock into her pussy. She was dry and it burned a bit with the friction. I didn’t care. I kept my hand twisted in her hair and she made mewling sounds of pain. Her hands clutched the edge of the table. Her bony hips slammed into the edge of the wood with every stroke—she would have a few bruises to show Lester when he picked her up on Sunday. It took a long time, since I’d just come with the blowjob. Jody was sobbing when I finished.

I pulled out when I was done and went to take a shower while she finished making dinner.

The food was okay, she was a decent cook and it was nice not to have to make it myself, or clean up afterward. I worked on my accounts for awhile, getting angrier by the minute as I wrote out checks to pay bills, thinking of the additional bill I’d acquired from good old Lester. Jody washed the dishes and then stood in the doorway of the kitchen. She bit her lip, obviously not knowing what to do next.

Spurred by my anger at Lester, I gestured for her to come over. She took a shaky breath, but obediently walked to me. Lester had been right, she was a fucking doormat. Any normal woman would have thrown the pan of sauce at my head and stomped out the door. I shrugged.

“On your knees,” I said. Jody obediently sank to the floor. “Whenever I’m sitting down, I expect you to be between my legs. I don’t care how long it takes.”

I ignored the tears streaming down her face and got back to my books. It took her nearly an hour to get me off, and it was mostly dry, but I figured I was starting to get five hundred bucks worth out of the bitch.

I threw her a blanket and let her sleep on the floor next to the bed. In the middle of the night, I woke up, took a pee, and fucked her one more time on the floor. The crying was getting on my nerves, so I shoved a sock in her mouth to muffle it.

Week Four

I bellowed at Jody to bring me a beer. When she came out, naked, of course, I threw the shears aside and grabbed the beer. She started to hurry back toward the house.

“Not so fast,” I said with a grin. She hated being outside, always worried about whether or not my neighbors would be peeking over the fence. It amused me to think they might, even though they were a fair distance away. I walked over and kicked her legs out from under her. She fell with a small cry and I leaped on her. I spilled some beer over her pussy to lube it up a bit and then jammed my cock into her. I hammered into her without remorse, knowing the rocks had to be digging into her ass.

I pinched her nipple, making another bruise next to the others there. She barely winced. I twisted her hair, since that always got a reaction. I was almost sorry that I’d hacked it off. It had been getting in the way of the blowjobs, so I’d taken the scissors to it the previous weekend. She had not liked that at all. I had thought she might actually fight me or something, but she’d finally given in after I’d threatened to fuck her with a Coke bottle. Stupid bitch.

I finished pounding into her and realized she was starting to smell. I didn’t allow her to take a bath or shower when she was with me (why waste water?), and the cum got rank after awhile.

“Bath time,” I said and walked over to the hose. She just sat up and covered her face with her hands while I hosed her down. I made her stand up and spread her legs while I jammed the hose into her cunt. The water was freezing and the thought of stuffing myself into that ice cold pussy made me hard again. I told her to lean against the shed and fucked her from the rear, dousing her every so often with the hose to keep it cold. She was shivering when I let her go back into the house to dry off.

I went back to my gardening and shook my head in amazement. Lester didn’t seem to care at all about the abuse his wife was suffering. I’d figured the hair-cutting incident and all the bruises and bite marks would get a reaction out of him, but he just gave me a thumbs up whenever he picked her up on Sunday afternoons. He was driving his nephew’s truck. Jody had spilled the fact that Lester’s truck had been repossessed. Apparently, the bastard wouldn’t be paying me any time soon. I wondered how poor Jody felt about another year of servitude. I grinned and put the tools back in the shed.

I noticed the electrical tape when I was in there and picked it up thoughtfully. I took it into the house and twirled it on my finger. Jody was in the kitchen, looking scared and lost. She had soapy water in the sink and looked like she was going to start mopping. I could tell she was hoping I would let her get on with the housework, and her eyes were fixed on the tape.

“Ever been tied up, Jody?” I asked with a smile. She shook her head and leaned against the sink, as though it could hold her up. She kept shaking her head as I approached and tears trickled down her cheeks. It amazed me that the bitch never ran dry of the waterworks. I grabbed her hair and dragged her down the hall. I didn’t want her on my bed, but the futon in the guest room was made of black metal bars. It would do nicely.

“First time for everything, eh?” I said and chuckled. “Don’t worry, you’ll like this. You won’t have to cook tonight, because I’m going to leave you taped until Lester comes for you tomorrow.”

The sobs were shaking her body after that and the first thing to get taped was the sock I stuffed into her mouth. Once she was taped, face down and spread eagled, I wondered what to do with her. I sighed and went to the kitchen for a beer. No big deal, I’d think of something. My dick was already getting hard at the possibilities. Good old Lester. I almost felt like thanking him for being such a stupid bastard.
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