[FFM], When I was twenty two, I spent about a year as a financially compensated sex slave to a couple over twice my age. (Part 4)

*Quick note*

The beginning of this part picks up right where Part 3 leaves off.

*Important note*

Before you read this, I’d just like to assure you that not all of the parts are going to be like Parts 3 and Parts 4 which are pretty heavy on the whole ’emotional abuse’ thing. However, while I’m telling this in chronological order, I can’t just gloss over the messed up stuff. The rest of that first week was actually pretty awesome, but Henry seemed to really want to test my boundaries, just to see what I could take, and he really does. Also, in retrospect, I believe he knew that if I bonded with Sweetie, I was more likely to stay because she was incredibly unlikely to leave. It just so happens that he didn’t mind playing the villain. I thought I was pretty smart at that age, but Judith and Henry were always five steps ahead because they had spent a lot of time doing what they did and had plenty of practice before I came along.

**Part 4**

“How much?”

Henry’s words confused me momentarily. After he had grabbed me by the arm forcefully enough to leave a hand print, he hauled me up to my feet. I thought he was going to immediately bend me over and continue where he had left off with Sweetie. He would have too, if I had already belonged to them. However, when he released his grip on me and asked me to name my price, I was a little off balance with the abrupt shift in gears.

The black dress I wore was still firmly held up near my navel by it’s elasticity that kept the fabric tight to every inch of my skin. Henry had a good view at the light gray cotton panties with the dark gray blotch between my legs. Watching Sweetie give him head had got me going, but after a pretty glaring series of red flags, seeing Sweetie start to cry had turned me off. However, as I had seen her climax my switch was instantly flipped back on. I wanted Henry to finish what I had started. Money hadn’t really come into consideration in that moment when I told him I wanted it. I had begun to puzzle over his question while trying to keep my cool. I reached around Henry to take my glass of vodka from the desk behind him. I took a gulp, while I tallied off the ‘seven shots’ marker in my mind. I’ve always been pretty conscious about my personal limits, especially when it comes to drinking. I needed the time to think and the liquid courage causing my belly to burn with more than just varying levels of desire and discomfort probably didn’t help as much as I thought it was. This became evident when my mouth opened before my brain could really process the words. Eyes still on the glass I held in my hand, I finally answered,

“A dollar.”

And suddenly, I was looking at the glass of liquor as if it were a friend that had just betrayed me. Henry seemed to be confused when I looked up to meet his narrowed eyes. As if he was simply seeing whether or not he had heard me wrong, he asked,

“One dollar?”

Alright, I have no fucking clue what I was thinking. Maybe I wanted Henry to see me as a good investment, maybe I had just wanted him to think that in that moment I just wanted his dick, or maybe it was simply because in one of the episodes of ‘The Price is Right’ Sweetie and I had watched earlier that day there had been someone that bid a single dollar during every single round and we had joked about it. Regardless of the reason, I gulped down the remainder of the vodka before doubling down on my answer. I clarified for him,

“One dollar.”

Apparently, that was a brand new answer to such a question for him. It kinda put him back on his heels as he apparently tried to figure out what the hell I was thinking. It was the only time I have ever seen him with what I can only describe as a ‘dumbfounded’ expression. He wasn’t the only one that felt dumb in that moment, obviously, but I tried not to show it. I was inwardly berating myself while trying my best to keep a little suggestive smile on my lips. Then, suddenly, like a big imaginary light bulb had appeared above his head, he seemed to think of something fun. He grinned and turned towards the door, calling back,

“I’m going to go find some quarters. Have the desk cleared off by the time I return and be careful with my stuff.”

It was my turn to be dumbfounded, but I began doing what he had told me to. Sweetie had recovered by this point and helped me. She didn’t pause while we moved stuff from the desk onto the small nearby tables. She did whisper a warning to me however, to give me a better idea of what was in store for me. It seemed that she didn’t want her words to carry to Henry’s ears as she remained close to me, whispering,

“He doesn’t get that look often, but when he does it means he’s thinking of doing something cruel. You don’t have to do it, say you don’t want it and I’ll handle him. He already likes you, he’ll be disappointed but he’ll still want you. It’s just… I don’t know if you’ll be able to deal with him when he’s like this, not many girls can.”

As we waited for Henry’s return, we whispered back and forth to one another even after the desk was cleared off. I asked her if he was about to do something that would injure me badly, break bones, rend flesh, all the really fucked up shit that was going through my head at her warning. She shook her head and tried to tell me it wasn’t going to be like any of that, but whatever it was wouldn’t feel good. I assured her that I could handle him being rough with me. Any further, more specific warning she might have given me were cut off by the sound of his footsteps coming back down the hall.

Henry entered the room holding, I shit you not, a big round pink piggy bank. He asked Sweetie if he could borrow a dollar from it. Sweetie looked like he had just slapped her, but, eyes downcast, she replied,

“Yes, sir.”

He handed the piggy bank to Sweetie and she took it in hands that showed signs that she might begin trembling at any moment. Henry told her to pour the coins out on the edge of the desk, all of them. All the while, he watched me, watching Sweetie, as she uncorked the piglet’s belly and began pouring the coins onto the desk. She must have had at least thirty dollars worth of assorted coins and it took a long time to empty all of them. Halfway through, Sweetie had begun to tremble, but tried to hide her trembling by shaking the piggy bank. More than a few coins rolled across the desk onto the floor. As she got out the last few coins, placing them on the pile, she was crying again, but there was nothing sexual about it, not for her, not for Henry, and certainly not for me.

Now, I’m not going to try to explain why such a thing effected her in such a way, I barely understand it myself. But in that moment, all I saw was a man intentionally hurting a girl’s feelings and not showing a single shred of remorse.

By the time the coins finished clinking on the wooden desk, I couldn’t hold back my tears. This had been the second time I had seen her crying, but it wasn’t the sort of sadness that anyone would beg for more of. Henry asked me my birth year and I glared at him, but I answered. Then the sick fuck told Sweetie to find a quarter with that year. She searched the whole pile until she was certain that she had no quarters with that year on it. Then he told her to find a dime with that particular year, but I had enough. I looked at the shinier quarters and found one from 2007, the current year. I held it up and told him that I’d be taking that one.

Henry’s face was a blank mask, and I doubted I’d be getting anymore surprised looks from him. Surprising him was the last thing I apparently wanted to be doing. Not if it meant he’d hurt Sweetie. Just like an insect being lured by the sweetness of a flower, that was the moment I can definitively say that the enticing flower revealed itself to be a carnivorous fly-trap. I couldn’t see the barbed petals closing around me, but suddenly I was bound to them, to all of them, I just didn’t know it yet.

Henry shrugged and motioned me to come over. I obeyed. As I’ve stated before, I’m not an emotional person, unless something happens to someone I care about. I had only spent several hours with Sweetie, but already I thought of her as a friend. And no one hurts my friends. No one. I didn’t realize until much later that what I had always considered to be one of my best personal qualities could actually be the chink in my armor. Henry didn’t grin, he had gotten to me, had found something in my character that I had never really considered could be used against me. He didn’t want to let on that he knew he had gotten to me however, so, he had suddenly put on an expressionless mask. The way he could just seem to keep his visage utterly calm would later lead me to wonder if every expression I ever saw him make was calculated, but I honestly couldn’t tell you if that was the case.

I stood before him, having pulled my skirt down instinctively, as my libido had vanished along with my tolerance. The quarter held in between my finger and thumb. He held out a hand, palm up, and I gave it to him. He held it up to look at it while I crossed my arms over my chest, tired of the game. Then, he told me to open my mouth. I obeyed. I thought he was just going to put it in my mouth but he held it flat and told me to hold it in between my teeth. Now, I’ll be honest, I was more than a little worried that he’d use it to bust my teeth. However, I was pretty sure that he wouldn’t do that, but so far he had been so hard to predict that I had absolutely no clue what he might be thinking. Seeing my hesitance he stated,

“Think of this as a down payment. You’ll get the rest shortly.”

(*Note: This is about to get a little disturbing, but I survived and so can you, dear reader.*)

Glaring at him, I bit down on the flat metal coin to hold it firmly. He told me to get up on the desk on all fours. I obeyed. I didn’t look at Sweetie, I didn’t know if I could wipe the glare off my face and the last thing I wanted was for her to think my anger was meant for her. She hadn’t moved from the spot she stood, she was no longer crying, but I could still see her trembling out of the corner of my eye. Henry walked around to face me. He reached down to the pile of coins and picked up a dime, showing it to me, then he slowly walked around the desk. I turned to watch him as he walked, but I didn’t turn my body, my hands and knees firmly stuck where they were. He grabbed me by the hips with both hands and slid me closer to the edge of the desk so that my bare feet dangled off the edge. He slowly pulled my skirt up. He made me arch my back a little more, and then he slid my panties down just enough to leave me fully exposed. He called Sweetie over and I guess she was sort of just in her own head at the time because she just kept muttering ‘Yes Sir’ over and over while. Holding the dime between his index and middle fingers he slowly push the dime past Sweetie’s lips, her teeth parted for his fingers and after covering them and the dime in her saliva he held it up to show me. Then, it finally dawned on me what he had in mind.

I looked away. Then I felt his fingers slide into my vagina. He slid them in as far as possible and I felt his fingers part in side me before he pulled them back out. Now, obviously I had put things in my vagina before. You know, normal things, like vibrators, dildos, a banana a few times, and of course, lots of dicks, fingers, and tongues. However, and I know some women use it as a pocket to hide drugs or whatever, I’ve never been the sort of gal that puts just anything in my pussy. I’m dirty, I’m naughty, but I’m never been filthy, and that using it in such a way feels wrong to me. This was a whole new low for me, and Henry knew it. My reaction had said it all. He could feel exactly how much I didn’t want it, but the only thing I could think was that at least I was still wet from earlier.

With my eyes closed in disgust, both at him and at my self for allowing it to happen, I was a whore, but I had never felt like a whore until that moment. In that minuscule amount of time where I started processing what I was feeling while trying to maintain my composure. I might be a whore, but I’d be damned if I’d be a worthless whore like I had just been treated. In my relatively rare moment of mental vulnerability, I never saw the smack coming.

Like Henry had started to do to Sweetie at the first, it was barely more than a tap. Still, I flinched, and I screamed. At the time, I had no idea what I felt, it was like he found this one tiny vulnerability, aimed a spike, and struck me with a hammer that caused all my walls to come down. With merely with a coin and a light tap, he broke me wide open. Whether he had done it on purpose or not, I don’t think I’ll ever be certain. Either way, as I began to cry, more of a loud and sudden fit of sobbing actually, he came back around the desk to face me as I crumpled to the desk trying to hide my face in my hands. I lay on my side trying not to curl up into a fetal position, I couldn’t allow myself to be that weak. I thought Henry might hit me or something as punishment for dropping the quarter from my mouth, but he just said,

“It’s alright, no one is going to hurt you.”

His voice was suddenly soft and gentle, soothing even, far removed from the commanding tone like it always was. I continued crying, and when he asked me what I wanted, my voice cracked as I screamed through the sobs,

“I want you to fuck me”

Then after a few more sobs I spit out,

“Please, Sir.”

I felt Sweetie’s soft hands take mine in hers then, squeezing as tightly to mine as I did to hers. She told me that it was over, that everything was alright. Yeah, I know, girl crying on the desk, begging to be fucked. Sounds a whole lot like five minutes before but now the girl who doesn’t like crying with her sex and violence is suddenly crying. Let me assure you that it surprised me too. What came next was more of a surprise, Henry’s hand on my shoulder, rubbing me gently. I hadn’t jerked away because I thought it might be Sweetie’s hand at first. Yeah, both of her hands were holding mine at the time, but after eight shots of vodka I tend to be a little slow on the uptake. I opened my eyes to see Henry’s flaccid dick, and strangely enough, that sight comforted me more than the hand on my shoulder. Possibly more than Sweetie holding my hand in hers.

Just like that, it was over. For now at least. Henry squatted down to my eye-level, his exact words were,

“You can’t just say it. You’ve got to mean it, Haley.”

With that, he stood back up with a groan, the kind someone makes when they stand up too fast with a sore back. He turned around and walked out the door bare-assed, leaving his pants on the floor covered in the change from Sweetie’s piggy bank. I didn’t look at Sweetie’s face for a long time after that. I had watched her in a vulnerable moment, but letting her see me as I unexpectedly broke down made me feel a kind of shame I had never really felt before. Judith would explain it later as Henry showing me that he also had boundaries and would never do anything to me without my genuine consent. That might’ve just been a load of bullshit.

Regardless of the reasons for Henry’s behavior, Judith had arrived home soon after, and after discovering what had happened, the two of them began to argue loudly. Sweetie and I were in the bathroom at the time, I was still trying to get the dime out of my vagina, and we could hear the two of them arguing. We couldn’t hear what exactly they were saying, but the result was Henry spending time elsewhere. I think that Judith had wanted to take things slow with me, to ease me into the whole thing, but Henry had jumped the gun and seriously risked scaring me off. She came into the bathroom, showing as much concern for Sweetie as she did for me. I didn’t think I needed it, but her caring enough about me to kick Henry out of his own home before she had even heard my side of things, was an incredibly huge gesture to me. In retrospect, I think the two of them had been faking the argument since it was the only time I had ever heard them argue about anything. I believe they might have thought it would play the best and get me to stay with them. Still, Judith’s genuine concern for Sweetie’s well being after Henry had made her cry ‘in a bad way’ made me feel like I could trust Judith to keep Sweetie safe, even if I chose to leave that very same night and never contacted them again.

I stayed though. I did consider walking out the door. However, by the morning the shock wore off. I woke up a in a huge, soft bed, wearing comfy pajamas and being cuddled by two beautiful and kind women pressed to either side of me. The desire to feel that feeling every single day was too much to toss aside. I felt like I had already become a part of them and I couldn’t cut the ties of intimacy, desire, and passion that I had found with these people. They were freaks, but so was I, in my own ways. It was like the four of us were all pieces to a puzzle, none of the pieces fit together quite right, but I could see enough of the picture we made together to find it to be something beautiful and real.

At breakfast that morning I had told Judith it was okay to tell Henry to come home, that I was fine and I wasn’t mad at him, but she told me that he needed a time-out. Thinking back, I believe she just wanted me all to herself for a few days.

TL;DR: I had told Henry I wanted him to fuck me. When he asked me ‘how much’ and I told him ‘one dollar’ it led to him doing things that violated both mine and Sweetie’s spirits, far more than he would ever hurt our bodies. Afterwards, Judith came home, they argue, and she kicks him out of the house for a few days.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/ae1k0g/ffm_when_i_was_twenty_two_i_spent_about_a_year_as

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