**Mr. Jones**
Class is something that Mr. Jones always protrudes in his establishment. Gentlemen are allowed to cum for free, and encouraged to cum multiple times. What does he expect in turn? Well, that’s easy. Though the patrons of his business do not pay on a girl to girl, or even visit to visit basis, they are contracted for life with a monthly fee. They will never be tethered to a child, and the women will be treated… nicely. When a man named Charles walks into Mr. Jones’ establishment for the first time, he requests a new girl. Someone that has only just started to breed. Not a milker or a cow that he is used to and has at home. He wants someone fresh. Mr. Jones smiles, and pulls back a curtain that shows his specimens all on their knees, with a glass wall in front of them so they may be viewed, and a curtain behind them to protect the identity of those pumping their potential children into the ladies that are in position. Charles notices that one of the stalls does not have a curtain, but a black wooden ‘wall’ of sorts behind her, though, she is still in the ready position. Mr. Jones explains that he has a new girl in the stables this week. She has been set aside for two reasons. One, so she could hear all the fun that happens all around her, and two, so she can get worked up for the first breeding session. Charles looks at you, and you simply smile, and wiggle your ass side to side, hoping this is your moment. While you are wiggling side to side, Charles can see the spot on the wall that you have been rubbing your pussy against. It is just a dark wet spot on the wall. Mr Jones explains that all the girls are gently tied down, in case they try to get up and ruin his patron’s experiences. When the stables close at night, they are untied and allowed to sleep in their own quarters. However, this new girl has requested to be kept like this until she has been christened. Charles stared at her and she seemed to mouth “please…. fuck me.” Mr. Jones walks over the the glass and knocks firmly, but respectfully, and puts his fingers to his lips. You know one of the rules is that you may not speak, but only make noise. Still pushing your breasts together, and making eye contact with the unknown man, you start to get wet again. You hang your head down between your tied arms, and look back. All you see is a slow drip from your pussy. Charles stares at you through the glass. Mr. Jones smiles. Mr. Jones advises that she would be ready tomorrow, and tells him to finish up his paperwork. Then come back tomorrow. The look on Charles face is of disappointment, which is all you have to go on. The glass leading to the room the men were in was sound proof. All you could hear were the moans of the other women around you. Mr. Jones leads Charles out of the room, and back up to the lobby. You stand there, on all fours, praying you hear the sound of the blocking board behind you be removed, and start bashing your pussy against the wall again in a feeble attempt to draw attention, while getting yourself even more worked up and in sexual frustration. It does not open. Not today. In the lobby, Charles finishes his paperwork, and promises to be back tomorrow. He is given the key to unlock the breeding gate to your stable. The next morning, Mr Jones goes around, letting his girls into their stalls. As he walks by your stall, you awaken, and notice that a meal has been laid out in front of you. You are used to meals, but this one is different. Nothing really, ‘special’, just… different. Since you are still tied up, you are forced to eat with only your mouth. Not a difficult task, but you just get a little messy. Mr Jones has assistants that come through and clean the girls up after meals, so you are not worried. While you are eating, you feel a wonderful buzz on your pussy. You look down between your legs and notice that one of the assistants is shearing your hair. You love the warmth of the trimmer, and it goes without saying that you start to drip at the sensation. The assistant is not having any of that today. You are to be a good girl, and keep your mind on eating, not the trimming, so he gives you one good spank to keep your mind on task. Eating proved to be difficult. All Gwen could concentrate on was the vibrations on her lips. She would chew a bit, with her eyes rolling back into her head. Anyone watching only her facial expressions would assume she was eating the best eggs and hash in the world. Me Jones assistant finished up, took Gwen’s plate, and left the stall. He came back minutes later with a warm bucket of water and a towel. He wet the towel, and cleaned her crotch of any stray hairs from the clipping. He also shaved any trouble areas by hand. When he was done, he towered Gwen off and made ready to leave. Looking down at Gwen, he smiled. Gwen was excited beyond anything she had ever experienced before becoming one of Mr Jones girls. She anticipated that this assistant was about to break her in, only to see him wind the towel up and whip her ass once and say “You’re all done.” with a slight chuckle. Then he left, Boarded back up her stall, and the only thing Gwen was left with was the sound of his footsteps and the other women in nearby stalls chewing. The glass was still covered with a dark red velvety curtain. The curtain only goes up if Mr Jones is showing off his prized possessions to new comers, indecisive people, or ‘pump n’ dumps’ (regulars) that want to see which of Mr Jones heifers is getting large tummies yet. As much as the girls love the curtain to be up so they have something new to look at, often times, it’s not long enough, and worse yet, the girls tend to get louder, trying to draw more men to their stall. On days that the curtain stays down, Gwen just continues to rub her pussy on the wall. Hoping that the grool dripping will make the wall more pleasurable, if not eventually ware a spot into the wall. Today, the curtain did not go up, but with cleanly shaven lips, Gwen had other things on her mind. In the lobby, Mr Jones was calling Charles. Explaining to him that his paperwork took longer to process than usual, due to his “record”. Charles only laughs on the other en of the line, asking what could possibly be on his record. Mr Jones is no stranger to talking about taboo or uncomfortable situations. He asks a simple question. “How many times have you had sex, Mr… Charles?” Charles answers very meekishly, “7”. Mr. Jones responds, very sternly, “That is my concern sir. You see. You’re record is spotty for marriage, or any relationship for that matter. We have very thorough sources, but I won’t bore you with process. You have had sex 7 times, and you parented 7 children. Do you understand that if I allow you into our establishment, I will have all my girls milking soon?” “…” was the only response on the other end of the line. “I assure you, Charles, this does not change your acceptance into my establishment, it only changes things. I will allow you in, and you may keep all privileges that all other patrons except one. You may not breed all of my women. I will limit you to half. When you were here yesterday, I gave you a key to a new woman because you claimed that you were used to ‘milkers’ at home. Do you understand what I am trying to tell you without spelling this all out?” Mr Jones explained while keeping a calm and professional tone. “I think I do. I will have to choose my timing.” Charles says in a time that implies he’s winking, “one at a time, every 9 months.” Charles laughs a bit, making the time softer, but also confirming that he understands Mr Jones rules. Mr Jones explains that he will be setting up the financial end of Charles’ contract by the end of the day, and is free to stop by any time after that. His chosen heifer has been prepped.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/56d1uk/me_jones_mf_preg_humil