[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 3)

*Note for anyone reading this*

If violence and sex aren’t your thing, then this probably isn’t going to be your cup of tea. Also, there’s some crying. However, even though it might seem like it to some, there was never any rape. Everyone involved were consenting adults. That’s not to say that everyone was enjoying everything that happened, but if I had wanted it to stop at any point all I ever had to do was to say that I didn’t want it. This point will be especially true for *Part 4*

Thank you for reading.

**Part 3**

Sweetie and I had just finished cleaning and had showered in different bathrooms. Henry was supposed to be the first one home that night, and Sweetie wanted a little solo time to put herself in the right mindset. I couldn’t blame her, even though I had only spent a half hour with him the previous night my body was still sore. Still, when Sweetie asked me if I wanted to watch or join in, I didn’t think I wanted to put my body through something like that so soon. Still, the thought of watching them together from a safe distance appealed to me. Henry had the look of a fifty-year old overweight accountant complete with the stereotypical male baldness and thick glasses. Sweetie had shown me pictures of him in his twenties and high school days that rebuffed my theory that he was sexually violent with women due to being bullied for his looks earlier in life. He wasn’t handsome back then, but he had looked like any average teenager in his younger years. I never asked, but I assumed that his extra weight was from spending so much time at a desk and the fact that he probably hadn’t needed to date anyone to get sex in a long time. He was also considerably wealthy which certainly helped open a lot of doors and legs for him. Anyone who can afford a home on top of a hill on the outskirts of the city that has eight bedrooms, three bathrooms, and a three car garage, as well as a swimming pool on the back patio is someone who I count as considerably wealthy. If I had to guess, and I’m right that they weren’t involved in any kind of organized crime or whatever, I’d say that Henry and Judith were simply secure in the upper-upper-middle class.

They both worked long hours, and they didn’t really seem to enjoy their work, but they both apparently enjoyed coming home from work to be doted on by sexually centered young women. And with good reason.

When I saw Sweetie after her shower, I wasn’t surprised to find her wearing as little as possible as she sat on the couch, blow-drying the last of the water out of her thick mane of dark naturally wavy hair. All she wore was nothing more than a pair of light blue stockings that were held in place with a garter belt under a matching light blue sheer gown that only fell to an inch above her neatly trimmed bush. She was apparently dressed with the expectation of not wasting anytime having to remove things that got in the way.

Sweetie was the definition of voluptuous. The most striking of her Hispanic features were her large breasts and round ass, heavily accentuated by the fact that she was barely over five feet tall. At nineteen, she was truly in the prime of her life and when she caught me looking she gave me a little titty-wiggle and a wide grin. Sexually, they were of course, her best features, but I have always been more enamored by her big dark brown eyes which throughout that first day we spent together were almost always filled with laughter, either a little maniacal or simply humorous. She always looked supremely confident in her body, for good reason, but she was the sort of girl that purposely wore clothes that made her look fat whenever we went out in public together or were just hanging out around the house while Judith and Henry were away. Her belly was nearly as flat as mine but she hated the attention she got from strangers. She’s just always tried to avoid other people’s attention unless, like in that moment, the attention was from someone she was comfortable with, especially during the immediate prelude to sex.

We heard a vehicle pull into the garage and Sweetie excitedly told me to follow along. She had given me a form fitting black dress to put on, and it was far less revealing than hers but the skirt being nearly as short as Sweetie’s own would have made me think it was a few sizes too small if it hadn’t fit my body like a glove. I was also the only one of us wearing underwear since I wasn’t planning on having sex with Henry again tonight. Part of me just felt the need to be there for moral support and to see if Sweetie really was telling the truth about enjoying herself. The other part of me hoped that I got to see Sweetie enjoying herself, both for her sake and the sake of this unbelievable job offer I was kind of on a trial basis for. I had found out as much as I could by talking to Sweetie about the relationship dynamics in the household and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to witness just how legit these people were about the whole thing. Also, I had been sexually active for years but I had never been invited to just watch other people have sex. I’d seen porn, but suffice it to say that watching porn, and actually being in the same room as other people fucking and just being an observer rather than a participant wasn’t really something I had ever done by that point in my life. Granted, in the end I was doing much more than just passively observing in this instance too, but that fact didn’t dampen the excitement of doing something new in the moments that I eagerly anticipated what might be in store for me.

Henry walked up the stairs as we neared them and Sweetie motioned for me to stand behind her. I thought that he might have been in a bad mood from work or something, but as Sweetie ended up explaining later, he would have been disappointed if he saw me in the dress rather than in the similar ‘uniform’ to hers. Sweetie greeted him warmly, offering him the glass of scotch she held on a napkin. She had grabbed it from the small fridge used specifically to chill his liquor to a certain degree; the guy was very specific about certain things, apparently. I had watched her take a small drink from it in front of him before he took it. When I asked her about that part later, she told me he never ate or drank anything that hadn’t been taste tested by the person giving it to him. Yeah, a freakish level of paranoia, but I guess maybe he thought one of his slaves might try it one day if one of them hadn’t already tried in the past. Or maybe he really was into some kind of organized crime or something and had legitimate reason to fear assassination attempts. However, I’m pretty sure it was just another one of those things that was simply weird about him.

He took the glass, swirled it around, while looking at me, then held the glass out to me. He told me to take a drink. I tried my best not to ask why, since I hadn’t yet puzzled out why he’d want anyone to drink from his own glass. Only hesitating long enough to look to Sweetie, taking her cue to do what he said, I took it from his hand and drank a burning gulp. I’ve never been a fan of dark liquor, and why anyone would drink overpriced swill like scotch, I’ll never know. I held up the glass for him to take it back as I began coughing and he mercifully took it from me. I could hear Sweetie trying not to laugh as I tried to regain my composure. It took a few seconds, but I had apparently amused Henry because one of the corners of his lips was raised in a sort of smirk. For Henry, that was basically the equivalent of a chuckle. He downed the whole thing in two gulps before handing the empty glass back to Sweetie. He told her to go get him another one, and to get ‘our guest’ whatever I wanted to drink. I wasn’t really planning on drinking, and whether I wanted liquor or tap water I didn’t think it would have mattered to Henry because it turned out that it was just an excuse to be alone with me for a moment.

Sweetie didn’t bother giving me a reassuring touch, word, or even so much as a smile and a wink as she left me there while she did his bidding with an obedient, “Yes, Sir.”

I wasn’t quite scared of Henry at this point, but he met my eyes rather than roaming my body like he had while I was naked the night before, which I took to mean he just wanted to talk to me rather than jump my bones. On instinct, I turned to tell Sweetie to get me some vodka. When I met Henry’s eyes again, they snapped back up to mine from where they had obviously been looking at my body which the dress’s tightness didn’t leave much to the imagination and I briefly wondered if I had been wrong in my assumption about him taking me. However, he just asked me how I was feeling. I didn’t get the sense that he was about to pressure me into sex, or even make the offer. I believe that the fact that I was there to greet him with Sweetie after he got home was basically like me saying it was only a matter of time before we fucked again. So, I told him the truth,

“I’m still really sore… Sir.”

My answer actually made him smile. I don’t think it was the admission that I was sore, rather it was calling him ‘Sir’ after a brief hesitation that caused him to smile. He didn’t say anything else before turning away. Then as he walked away from me he called out loud enough for Sweetie so that she could hear him clearly all the way down the hall where she was still in the kitchen getting drinks.

I walked back to the kitchen, more than a little puzzled about our brief exchange to find Sweetie at the bar, pouring my vodka. I took it and took a big gulp. It burned, but it was a familiar burn that washed the bad aftertaste from my mouth. Sweetie inquired about what he wanted from me, looking more curious than worried. I shrugged and told her about the encounter. She grinned when I told her that he had smiled at me. Then she suddenly frowned, but in a cute way, saying,

“Dang it, girl. You’ve gone and put him in a good mood.”

Of course, I immediately asked her why that had been her reaction. She replied,

“He’s much more relaxed when he’s in a good mood. It means I’m probably gonna be doing most of the work.”

With a pretend sigh of lamentation, her smile returned and with that look of maniacal laughter dancing behind her dark eyes, she said,

**(Stop scrolling here for the sex)**

“Well, I guess you just might get to see . Try to hold all your questions and praise until the end of class, my young student. The professor doesn’t like there to be any interruptions during a demonstration.”

I wasn’t certain if she was referring to one of Henry’s numerous pet peeves, but I took her warning to not interrupt them as solid advice. I followed Sweetie to the door of the study and waited until she talked to Henry. I heard her tell me to come in only to discover that she had already begun, tying her hair back as she dropped to her knees. Henry told me to pull up a chair. I did just that, pulling up one of the chairs from the wall over to set it within accurate spitting distance of the two of them. I turned the back of the chair towards them and sat down to straddle the back of the chair so I could rest my chin on the top cushion and watch them. The main reason that I sat like this is because I wanted Henry to have a view of my exposed panties through the gap between the seat and the back cushions. I wanted him to see me touching myself while I watched them, which I was certain I would be doing. I needed him to know that I was still very much interested in the ‘job’ that Judith had offered me. I made sure to keep my eyes on Sweetie most of the time though. She had pulled his pants all the way down to his shins and already had his cock in her mouth as she took them the rest of the way off with no pause in beginning her hands-free blowjob.

He got hard in no time, and I liked to think I helped with that, but really, Henry was the sort of man who always stood to attention at a moments notice. I had thought my own libido was strong, but mine and Sweetie private nickname for Henry was ‘twilight’ because he always came at least twice a day, never less than that. Although, it wasn’t a perfect nickname because sometimes he would use us more than just twice a day. Sometimes a lot more, like on ‘special occasions’ that I’ll have to get into at a later time. Lets just say the previous night had been one such ‘special occasion’

I didn’t know it at the time, but he had been fucking Sweetie every morning and night for a month without a single day of rest. And with varying degrees of roughness. So, when I describe what happens next, I want to make known that she already fucked him that very same morning, hours before she had brought me a home-cooked breakfast. Still, despite her own aches and pains, I realized that her referring to me as her ‘student’ wasn’t just a humorous statement. She truly meant it, and it didn’t take me long to realize just how much I could learn from a woman like her. I had thought the blowjobs that I gave were great, but hers made realize that I relied too much on my hands. Hers were clasped behind her back the same way mine had been. However, as I watched her, I realized that she was a reflection of a me from the previous night, I could see Judith’s guidance in every movement of Sweetie’s body as she performed oral. And hell was it a performance to behold.

I’m gonna have to stick a pin in that for a second, because a thought had suddenly struck me when I noticed how similar Sweetie’s movements were to what Judith had guided me through the previous night. I took another big gulp of the Vodka when I suddenly realized that my training had begun the moment I stepped in Henry’s study less than twenty hours earlier. Watching Sweetie work was hot, to say the least, but there was something about having the sudden realization that I was already in with them. The job interview was long over and the position was mine if I wanted it, all that was left was to accept and discuss terms, but now wasn’t the time. I did want the job. In that moment I wanted it so badly, but I knew that if I spoke or tried to joined in I would be interrupting, so I did the only thing I could. I began to touch myself. Not exactly like I had planned on doing, with a mask of lust that I had perfected to hook up with guys even when I wasn’t really into them. With the realization that I was already in, I also realized that just acting the part would never be enough. Henry didn’t wear his thoughts in his expression, the stare I had thought was dull the night before was just my preconceived notion about his appearance. Henry wasn’t a dull man in the least, nor was he simply a caveman trapped in a modern man’s body. He definitely liked causing us physical pain, but that wasn’t his primary kink. He had a certain taste in women, I’m not talking about their bodies, or their libidos, but what he enjoyed was shaping them to his will. We were more than just toys to him, he liked to reshape the spirits of young women, some for the worse, some for the better.

I didn’t come to that full realization until later that night. While I was in the moment I was too overwhelmed by the phantom hand of Judith on the back of Sweetie’s head, training her the same way she had already started training me. It became difficult to think much of anything while I continued to watched Sweetie pleasing Henry. I set my half-empty glass of vodka down on the desk because I didn’t want Henry to think I needed it, because I didn’t anymore. I no longer pretended to be flashing my panties to him accidentally either. Instead, I angled myself in the chair so that he could see that despite not having touched myself yet, the light grey panties that Sweetie had picked out for me to wear with the dress had a big dark grey splotch in the middle of them. I watched Henry’s expression as I did so, hoping to catch some hint of his inner thoughts, but aside from making him genuinely smile twice in one day, I had no idea what he was thinking but I couldn’t wait any longer to touch myself. I left the panties on while I hiked up the dress to get it out of the way, and I rubbed myself as I continued to watch Sweetie’s artisan work.

What I had seen at first as purely Judith’s guidance, turned into something all Sweeties own as she deep-throated his cock, holding her breath for close to half a minute while she rubbed his balls with her tongue. At no point did she allow his cock to fall out of her mouth and she had apparently mastered the technique of breathing through her nose because she blew him for what had to be five minutes straight before he finally popped. I watched Sweetie continuously swallowing all of the semen as it shot into her mouth for nearly a dozen seconds straight. She continued working him gently until she was sure to have gotten it all, her eyes looking up to check for a gesture from Henry ordering her to stop, and she seemed genuinely pleased with herself for receiving such a big load. Turns out that most of the time Henry only spent a few seconds actually cumming.

When Sweetie looked over to me, a mockingly smug expression on her face, she immediately saw me rubbing myself enthusiastically and her smug expression faltered, realizing that I definitely had just as much to do with her achievement as her own technique. I didn’t feel the need to give her praise, and she actually did take my solo-performance as a compliment to her skills. I didn’t have to wait long to see more. Henry clearly wasn’t done yet, because he picked Sweetie up by her hair and I knew full well what was in store for her as he bent her over the desk. She never tried to turn her face away from me, not at the start, nor any point that she wasn’t being forcibly re-positioned. This time, Henry didn’t hold her arms behind her back like he had done to me the previous night; because she still had her bare wrists crossed like they were bound tightly together by some invisible force. I eventually learned for myself, that repetition is the key to success if you want to get good at something. And it just so happened that Sweetie was obviously very good.

It was at this point that I stopped rubbing myself as I continued to watch. Suddenly, I was no longer feeling excited for her. It was because I was terrified for her in that moment. You see, she was looking back at him with fear evident on her face. The kind of fear someone gets when they know what’s about to happen and they know exactly what the result is going to be regardless of how much they might not want it to happen. Now, had it been me in her position, I was the kind of girl who welcomed the spanking because I’ve always preferred being a submissive masochist to a dominant man, it had always been my favorite kind of sex. So, from my perspective, I was about to make a shit ton of money for doing something I would have been doing anyways. However, as I learned then, my perspective is not the only one.

Sweetie was not like me. She didn’t enjoy physical pain. In fact, pain scared her. I remembered the old burn scars from the cigarettes on her midsection. She had been telling me the truth when she said that Henry hadn’t been the one that did it. But to a twisted soul like him, he saw a different kind of beauty in her scars than I did. He didn’t start fucking her right away, instead, he rubbed her pussy. It turned out that even after the few months he spent with her, he was still in the process of training her with a vibrator to get her wet during the blowjob, but they had skipped it today because Sweetie was in a rush to show off and the added level of vulnerability I didn’t realize my presence in the room had brought to her mind. So, she wasn’t ready for him. He didn’t seem to mind though, like it was simply some tedious inconvenience. Sweetie started saying ‘Please, sir.’ over and over again, quiet at first, but after the first spank, she squealed like a small girl being disciplined harsher than she could ever deserve.

Now, understand, by this point I actually had some first hand experience with how hard Henry can smack. So, when I say that first spanking was just a tap, I mean it. Still, her cry was so real that I could hear my heart thundering in my ears as I felt my gut sink. I think that the sudden deviation in her personality that I had grown fond of so quickly simply put me into a state of small shock while my whole brain tried to rewire itself to understand exactly what it was I was starting to see. He spanked her again, only a little harder than before, but she began begging loudly, more specifically,

“Please, Sir. I want it. Please, Sir. I want it again.”

She wasn’t talking about his cock, I realized when he smacked her other cheek, harder this time, but just below the threshold of what even the soft-core kinda people feel comfortable with. By now, her eyes had begun to tear up, her blue eyeliner leaving streaks across her face and nose as those first few tears fell down onto the desktop. The fear I had seen in her face at the start had turned into a solid mask of sheer determination and finally she looked me directly in the eyes and said,

“Please. I need it. I need it. Please.”

He spanked her again, this time it would have been enough to put even me on my tip toes, but she had been ready for it. She let out a scream through clenched teeth. Again and again, she begged him to smack her. Again and again, he obliged her request. She was crying freely now, but she had told me not to interrupt, and the looks she gave me from time to time told me in no uncertain terms that if I did interrupt I would be failing somehow. Whether it was failing her or Henry she was concerned about I had no way of knowing at the time. And so, I remained silent, watching, no longer able to picture Sweetie as just some slut like me. She had explained it to me all later, how getting spanked was just one of her instant emotional triggers that she couldn’t control. Henry knew that of course, which is why he did it. He liked to see her in an emotional state and still entirely submissive to him. He didn’t do it all the time, but he did it enough that she was completely in control of her body, regardless of the clearly roiling emotions boiling inside her.

Let me just say, I’m pretty comfortable with mixing violence and sex, but crying and sex isn’t really my cup of tea. Going into this particular situation, of course, I had been ready to see something new and exciting. However, while this was certainly a whole new experience, even if I was basically just a witness to it, I wasn’t really pleased to see her crying and still begging for more. I thought it was truly sick and twisted, and quite frankly the memory still makes me a little angry like when I remember a video I saw once of someone kicking a puppy and laughing about it. However, even writing this now, I’m glad I didn’t go with my instincts in my momentary disgust. I found out later that same week that I was the fourth girl who sat where I had sat, watched something similar to what I had witnessed. None had stayed long after seeing Sweetie together with Henry. I can’t blame those other girls for not doing something though, that sort of thing is as confusing as it is shocking.

When he rubbed her pussy again, she was wet. That was when I found out that while Henry had certainly enjoyed her reaction, spanking her until she started crying was a surefire way to make her wet. I’m not going to pretend I understand the psychology behind it, I’ve only ever been a hobbyist at best when it comes to book-learning, but Sweetie explained to me that for her personally the spanking was like a psychological trigger for arousal, just in a different way than it was for me. Lots of people are apparently similar to one another in all manner of ways, but not always in the same exact way. Sweetie had been telling me the truth when she said she liked what he did to her, but I had misunderstood exactly what parts of it she enjoyed. She liked the crying and the sex, but only liked the violence because it triggered the crying. I liked the violence and the sex, but I have never been what I would consider to be an emotional woman, relatively speaking. I’m the sort of girl who’ll cry during sad movies, or when something bad happens to someone I’m close with, but as an adult I can count the times I’ve been emotional about something in my personal life up to this point on one hand.

The previous night, when all I possessed in the world was those three green pieces of paper, I had held onto them as reassurance that everything was going to be fine. Henry had known this, and had purposefully separated it from me to make me feel a little extra vulnerable. He had tested me and while he certainly hadn’t found me boring by any stretch of the imagination, neither had he found me particularly interesting at first. He was obviously attempting to illicit some emotion from me other than base lust and I knew that if I looked at the scene before me with anger or disgust he’d loose all interest in me in an instant. The only problem with that was that I had no way of knowing what exactly he wanted from me, so sometimes the best move to make is none at all and so I simply continued to watch. Henry’s method of testing my fortitude and tolerance for what had so clearly been a turn off for me, since he noticed I was no longer rubbing myself, made me realize that he was the sort of man who tests personal boundaries with a hammer rather than any kind of subtlety or gentleness.

After Henry found a steady rhythm of thrusting, he moved Sweetie from the desk so that she was facing me, still bent over in the air, her face only a few inches away from mine. He grabbed her by the hair that she had tied back into a loose tail. His hand gripped tightly and there was a shock of pain on her face as he made sure that she was eye-level with me sitting in the chair facing her. My chin still rested on the cushion, both unwilling and unable to look away. Sounding like hardly more than a few breaths disguised by the sound of flesh slapping together, Sweetie whispered so that only I would hear her,

“It feels so good.”

There was no pleading in her eyes, no acting. Her words were as sincere as her tear-streaked face. Then, she began begging him to spank her again as she obviously drew closer to climax. Henry obliged her. She put her hands on the sides of my chair to more steadily hold herself in place as Henry began smacking her cheeks again, hard enough for our noses bump if hadn’t pulled away. I could suddenly feel the chair I sat on begin to shake with every thrust. Henry spanked her again and again until finally I watched Sweetie’s beautiful dark eyes roll back into her head as she bit back a slowly building scream. Even after puzzling over it for a decade, I’m not entirely certain what made me grab her face and kiss her. It was like I was trying to help her, to ease the burdens of her soul, to share in her torment and pleasure and try to make her feel like she wasn’t alone. She responded to my sudden kiss and the scream that had be building turned into what I can only describe as an animalistic growl while her whole body began to violently shudder. I had been with girls that could come like that, dropping into a quivering heap of flesh as their bones appeared to turn into pudding, and it turned out that Sweetie was just that sort of girl under the right circumstances.

Instead of simply letting her fall to the floor like a sack of worthless flesh, Henry showed uncharacteristic gentleness as he helped the woman settle down to the chilly tile floor. As he stood back up, looking down at her, and as if to negate any of the good karma he had just earned during that small act of kindness, he taunted her, like he was disappointed in her,

“Clock’s ticking, Sweetie. You’d better finish what you started.”

The next words uttered, after a wordless noise from Sweetie that sounded like affirmation that she had heard him, surprised me. Especially since I was the one that spoke them. For the second time that day, my mouth opened before my brain could catch up, and I said,

“I want it.”

Henry looked at me, with a look that was as truly rare for him which I eventually came to realize was genuine surprise, washed away by the third smile I had gotten from him within the hour. Not a world record, I’m certain, but my reaction had sealed my fate as his new favorite plaything. Not having a complete understanding of what such a thing really meant, however, I felt I had already gotten in too deep to pull out now, so I made sure to double-down on my offer, interruptions be damned.

“Please, Sir.”

That was all it took for him to grab me from the chair and focus his full attention on me while Sweetie recovered.

TL;DR: Sweetie and I greeted Henry as he came home. They let me watch while she sucked him dry using a skillful technique that was eerily similar to the technique Judith had made me use the previous night. As she begged him to spank her, I discovered that Sweetie didn’t like pain, but she loved the spanking because it made her cry and that was her favorite way to get off. I spontaneously kissed her as she climaxed and while she lay on the floor quivering, I told Henry that I wanted to do more than just watch despite my soreness from his attention the previous night.

[Part 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/ad7zrn/ffm_when_i_was_twenty_two_i_spent_about_a_year_as/)

[Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/adu5pi/ff_when_i_was_twenty_two_i_spent_about_a_year_as/)

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