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Subject: Starlet Slave 11-15
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THE STARLET SLAVE 11
Joy Paine
Index words: first customer f# performance grades p#
With one exception, the characters in this story have no intentional
resemblance to anyone living or dead. The one exception is that I like
to imagine myself in one of the roles. I'm not going to tell you which
one -- after all, your tastes may be different.
11. Getting Ready
When that damned thing was secure in my asshole, Rosie marched me back to
the office, where Peck took the other Persuader out of my cunt. Apparently,
there was some trick to it, because he got it out without having it shock
me even the least bit. And then, of course, he had to "test my response"
to the shocker in my ass. (He couldn't pass up an opportunity like that.)
Believe me, it hurt just as much as the other one had. And of course he
pinched my tits a couple of times. That bastard wouldn't have been able to
keep his hands off a pair of naked tits, even if the building had been on
fire. Especially a pair like mine.
Then he made me pose in a lot of pornographic positions, while he took
pictures ("for your portfolio", he said). His last pose had me sitting on
the sofa with my legs drawn up underneath me, a lascivious smile on my
face, and my hands cupping my tits, as if I were offering them to my
viewers.
"That's the stuff," Peck enthused. "Just make sure that you give your
brightest and most convincing smile. That's the way you're going to greet
all your customers."
My heart sank. "Customers", in a pose like that could mean only one thing --
he was going to peddle my ass. (Paddle it too, no doubt.) I should have
known from the beginning that this set-up was too elaborate just to get
himself a quick lay. But that's the way Peck operated, I learned -- push a
girl step by step into the depths of depravity, without giving her any
hint of where she was headed, so that each outrage had the full force of
novelty.
And just to make sure that I got the picture, Peck laid it out in detail.
"Baby," he told me, "that cunt of yours is going to make us rich. Well,
me, anyway. Your profit will come as the richness of experience.
"Your friends here have done pretty well, but a bod like yours will draw
the boys like flies. Just as soon as the word gets around.
"So let's start spreading the word, before you lose any momentum.
"Sheila," he turned to one of the other girls. "Ferdy is a special friend
of yours. Suppose you go over to the garage and tell him that little Ellen
is ready for him."
Sheila made a little face of disgust, a gesture that was not lost on
Peck. "And remember," he taunted her, "it's Ellen that he's paying for
this time, not you. If he wants to feel you up, that's OK. But make sure
that he keeps his pecker in his pants -- or out of yours, anyway." He
laughed uproariously at his own joke. "I don't want you beating Ellen's
time, no matter how much you care for the big lug."
f#
He was kidding, of course. Nobody cared for Ferd the Nerd, as we called
him. Behind his back, of course -- you didn't insult Ferdy to his face.
Pimply face, dirty hands, dirty talk -- Ferd the Nerd was the guy every
girl dreams of having a love affair with -- in her worst nightmares, that
is. He was the kind of guy that you didn't notice his bad breath so much,
because of his B.O.
And whatever he lacked in brains, he made up for with meanness and brute
strength. He used to brag about how he once crushed a puppy's rib cage
with one hand, and then left the poor creature whimpering while it died
in pain. Nice guy!
Peck knew how I hated Ferdy, of course. Shit, everybody hated Ferdy.
"It's very important," Peck pontificated,"for your first few dates to be
with people you wouldn't dream of putting out for willingly. Except for
me, of course," he grinned.
"That way, we can get your feet wet fast, as the saying goes. If you only
had Johns that you like, you could maybe persuade yourself that you were
doing it for `love', but if we start out with the bottom of the barrel,
you'll have it driven home to you that you're doing it for money -- never
mind that the money will be coming to me instead of to you -- and that
you're going to be fucked by any and every customer that I send you,
whether you like him or not.
"And you'll do it any way he wants, and as many times as he wants," Peck
concluded. "Or she wants," he grinned as an afterthought. "After all, this
is the age of equal rights."
Bottom of the barrel, eh? Well, that certainly described Fed the Nerd to
a T.
"But I had some other reasons for choosing Ferdy for your first trick,"
Peck went on. "Reasons intimately related to your career development.
"In the first place," he ticked off on his fingers, "Ferdy agreed to let
us take pictures of him screwing you, just so long as I give him copies
that he can show around to his friends -- some of whom are also your
friends, of course. And, besides the advertising uses we can put them to,
action pictures of a broad that's built like you are money in the bank.
"And the second reason is that Ferdy is the kind of guy that kisses and
tells, as they used so delicately to put it. Nobody can get the word
around town that you're available as fast as Ferdy will. And people will
figure that anybody that would fuck for Ferdy will take anyone on. And
they'll be right, of course.
"And there's no advertising quite so effective as the word of a satisfied
customer."
I couldn't take it any longer. "I may not be able to keep him from raping
me," I groused, "but I'll be damned if I'll do anything to satisfy him."
Peck replied with a little session from the Persuader. When I had stopped
screaming, he went on matter-of-factly, as if nothing had happened. "I
think that it might be more accurate to say that you'll be damned if you
don't satisfy him", he chuckled. "Ferdy can be pretty mean if he thinks
that his girl friend of the moment is doing less than her very best. Or if
he decides that her best isn't good enough for him. And we don't want him
leaving any marks on you that you won't be able to explain to your mother,
do we?
"And of course I'll be keeping a fatherly eye on you, and will give you
a little shot of the Persuader whenever I get the feeling that your
enthusiasm is waning.
p#
"And one more thing. I always ask my girls' clients to grade their
performance afterwards. A, B, C, D, or F -- just like in school. If you
get an A, you have nothing to worry about. Anything less puts you in line
for a course in remedial motivation. Where the stimulus is applied depends
on your grade. If you get a B, I burn your butt. For a C, I clobber your
cunt. If you get a D, I dust off your ding dongs. And if you should be so
injudicious as to get an F we take serious steps to see that it doesn't
happen again. Rather effective steps, too, aren't they, Rosie?"
The look Rosie gave him was pure hate, mixed with remembered panic.
"Rosie has been a straight A girl ever since our little session," Peck
chortled. "We also have an incentive program, whereby the girl with the
lowest average grade gets assigned to our special rate customers -- unless,
of course, the customer pays an extra premium for the privilege of
selecting a specific victim -- I mean, lover. After all, the customer
is always right -- if he pays enough."
The bell in the outer office interrupted Peck's monologue, announcing
that someone had come into the store. "I expect that'll be Sheila, with
your ardent lover," Peck observed. "Let's see you sit up on the couch,
and give him the greeting that we taught you. And see that Ol' Ferdy gets
his money's worth.
"And one more thing," he added coarsely. "Always remember, in this
business, the customer comes first." He laughed uproariously. "Not that
you'll be bothered by little annoyances like premature orgasms with a
customer like friend Ferdy. Or any kind of orgasm at all, for that
matter."
==========================================================
THE STARLET SLAVE 12
Joy Paine
Index words: humiliation and torture h#
With one exception, the characters in this story have no intentional
resemblance to anyone living or dead. The one exception is that I like
to imagine myself in one of the roles. I'm not going to tell you which
one -- after all, your tastes may be different.
12. Starting Out
After Peck's little pep talk, I just about busted my ass trying to make
Ferd the Nerd happy. I smiled my sweetest, and moaned enthusiastically
at the right times, and screamed when he pinched my tits and cunt lips
(I didn't have to fake that part), and went through all the proper
gyrations. So that Ferdy -- and anyone who happened to watch the tape
that Old Peck was making of my ordeal -- must have been sure that I was
fucking for the pure love of it. Or for the love of money, anyway. And
Peck helped out from time to time, with a little goose from that damned
Persuader, keeping me squirming and howling like a mad fiend at the
strategic moments. And when Ferdy was finally ready to come, Peck let
loose with a shock that stiffened my whole body into what must have
seemed like the wildest orgasm on record.
Ferdy had the time of his life. He even kissed me good bye afterward,
and told me that I was a real tiger. And said that I was going to take
Sheila's place as his best girl from now on. Just what I needed! Like a
hole in the head, that is.
After Ferdy, the second John was an anticlimax. Some old bum from Skid
Row, smelling of cheap wine and vomit. And even the smell wasn't all
that bad, after Ferdy's B.O. Peck made a big deal out of giving him a
special low price because of his low income status, but insisted that he
had to charge something, in order to "maintain the integrity of my
commercial standing". Pretty fancy language, just to say that he was
reminding me that I was a whore. And a fifty-cent whore, at that.
But it was my third customer that really took the prize. Old Mr. Nelson,
my English teacher.
We all used to joke about Old Nelly (Nelly Gray, we used to call him,
because of his gray hair) -- what a Dirty Old Man he was. And what an
ineffectual Dirty old Man -- a regular nebbish. All of us -- boys and
girls alike -- used to joke about how he was always watching the girls'
tits and asses. We figured that he was really harmless, though. Way over
the hill. He must have been fifty at the very least, and we figured that
he probably couldn't get a hard on anymore.
All of us girls -- even the innocents like me -- used to tease him,
rubbing our tits when we knew that he was watching out of the corner of
his eye, and twitching our asses when we walked away from him. One or two
of the girls used to go so far as to bump into him "accidentally" now and
then, rubbing their bodies against him, and getting a real kick out of how
he tried to pretend not to notice.
He wasn't pretending not to notice now, though. He was all eyes -- and
hands.
h#
He had a new schtick. He took out his false teeth and started gumming my
tit. At first it was just gross, but then he started pulling more and more
of the tit into his mouth, and biting harder and harder, until it really
started to hurt. I pulled away and slapped his face gently -- after all,
I thought, I can put old Nelly Gray in his place.
But he surprised me. Instead of the abject apology I expected, he gave
my tit a backhand swipe with his fist. And not so gently, either. And
then he turned to Peck. "Time to take the gloves off," he said.
Peck handed him the control box for the Persuader, and Nelly lost no
time in showing me that he knew exactly what to do with it.
He started out by beating out a sort of rhythm on that fucking switch,
sending me into a frantic dance that made my tits jiggle. And then he
glommed onto my tit with his gums again, and chomped down as if he was
trying to milk me dry. And I just screamed myself hoarse. It was obvious
that he was enjoying my pain more than he was the taste of titty. Every
time I screamed, he just grunted in satisfaction, and grabbed a bigger
mouthful and chomped again. And then the other tit . . .
When he finally let go, I knew that my tits would ache for a week. And
then the real fun began. He strapped me down on that bench again,
spread-eagled and face up, and Peck handed him a beautiful leather
case full of what looked like surgical instruments.
Nelly took great care with each instrument as he picked it up, waving
it before my eyes, and explaining in great detail what he was going to
do with it. And what he was going to do it to. They were the most satanic
assortment of tools that you could imagine -- something like what the
Mad Doctor on TV is always coming up with. Except that they don't show
the Mad Doctor operating on the tits and cunts of his victims.
I realized damn quickly why the rates for this sort of John were extra
high -- and why the Johns were willing to pay them. This was the kind of
trick that only a slave would turn. There wasn't enough money in the
world to get a girl to go through an ordeal like this voluntarily --
especially on a repeat basis. And Nelly lost no time in telling me that
he'd be coming back. Again and again . . .
While he tortured me, he gloated over the fact that it was he who had
"discovered" me.
He explained that he had noticed me in class -- shit, I knew that --
and had called Peck's attention to my "potentialities". A nice word for
tits, he chuckled. And he had paid Peck a special bonus to procure me
"just for him".
===========================================================
THE STARLET SLAVE 13
Joy Paine
Index words: oral rape o#
With one exception, the characters in this story have no intentional
resemblance to anyone living or dead. The one exception is that I like
to imagine myself in one of the roles. I'm not going to tell you which
one -- after all, your tastes may be different.
13. Tamed
Well, he certainly worked me over for a while. He even made a couple of
wounds that I was sure would leave scars. He apologized to Peck about it --
not to me, of course -- and said that he'd pay extra for the damage. But
after all, he pointed out, they were in places where nobody but my clients
were ever likely to see them -- and probably only the special rate
customers at that. And for those guys, a scar in a place like that could
be a turn-on, rather than a blemish.
o#
Well, Old Nelly was a first in another way, too. By the time he had worked
himself up to the pitch of excitement where he was ready to fuck me (and
we had been wrong at school, by the way -- his prick was hard enough to do
plenty of damage) he didn't want to remove those torture devices he had so
lovingly placed. So he had me French him instead. But first he put a bite
block between my back teeth, to keep me from damaging his tool, either out
of spite or when I involuntarily clenched my teeth in pain.
When he had finished raping my face, he left me still strapped to the
bench while he dressed, with the torture devices still in place. After
all, he said, Peck or one of the girls could undo me at their leisure --
unless they wanted to take up where he had left off.
Well, after those three customers had finished with me, not to mention
the rape by Peck himself (and the one after Nelly had left), I felt so
filthy and so -- used -- that I just didn't give a shit any more. All of
my self-esteem was gone, and I was already thinking of myself as Peck
wanted me to -- as the town whore. And I knew that the rest of the town
would, too, as soon as Ferd the Nerd started shooting his mouth off and
showing those pictures of him fucking me.
I guess that Peck had set some sort of record with me -- from virgin to
whore in a couple of hours flat.
I knew that I couldn't run away, or even kill myself, because of what the
shock would do to Mom. And, as I said, I just didn't give a shit. As long
as the word didn't get back to Mom, I knew that I would do just about
anything that Peck asked. And I had a pretty good idea what he was going
to ask, too. And he wouldn't even have to use that damned Persuader to
get me to do it. The only use he'd have for that Little Wonder from now
on would be for fun -- his own and that of his "special rate" customers.
Old Peck knew that he had me. He knew his business, all right. I wondered
how many other lives he had ruined, and how much money he had made from
the pricks that had helped to ruin them.
So life settled down into a hellish routine from then on.
===========================================================
THE STARLET SLAVE 14
Joy Paine
Index words: witness to sodomy s#
With one exception, the characters in this story have no intentional
resemblance to anyone living or dead. The one exception is that I like
to imagine myself in one of the roles. I'm not going to tell you which
one -- after all, your tastes may be different.
14. Terms of Slavery
Peck let me wear ordinary street clothes whenever I went home, or went out
with Mom, but all the rest of the time -- to school and everything -- I
had to wear a T-shirt (advertising Peck's jewelry, of course, with some
rather special bits of jewelry silk-screened onto the shirt in the
logical places) and mini-skirt, saddle shoes and bobby socks. And nothing
else. Nothing. No bra, no panties, no sweater, no coat. Nothing. Except
for a transparent plastic raincoat on rainy days.
Thank goodness it was Spring.
And I had to let anybody -- anybody at all, that wanted to -- pinch my
tits, pull up my skirt, goose me, and even finger fuck me, no matter how
public the place was, or how many other people were looking on. But no
free fucking. That cost. The rates were reasonable, of course --
reasonable enough to keep me on my back just about all of my free time.
Except for the "special rates".
And did I ever learn something about the upstanding citizens of the town!
Or maybe I should make that lying-down citizens, although some of them
did like to do it standing up. Or sitting, or with me hanging from a
trapeze, or just about every other position you could imagine.
And the teachers. Not every one of my teachers was one of Peck's
customers, but it sure seemed that way. And you can imagine how
embarrassing it was for me to fuck a teacher at night and then have to
sit in his class the next day. And every one of the teachers who were my
clients were "special rate". Even the women. Shit, especially the women.
They were the most vicious of all. And since they were women themselves,
they knew exactly what hurt the most, and what would be the most disgusting.
But one thing I absolutely refused to do was take it in the ass. Even when
Peck put me through an intensive "training session" with the Persuaders --
both of them, front and back. And you can imagine what fascinating rhythms
he could play with a combination like that! I told Peck he could probably
rape me in the ass if he really tried hard enough, but if he did I'd kill
myself, but only after writing to the police and the newspapers and
everybody about his whole operation.
Peck was pretty impressed by my determination, and I had to tell him why
I thought that sodomy was so much worse than being fucked any other way.
* * * * *
s# It
was when I was 10 years old, and it was absolutely the most horrible
thing that had ever happened to me -- until that day when Peck got his
hooks into me. Or maybe the most horrible, period. Mom and I had gone
on a picnic, and suddenly there was this bunch of teen-age boys
surrounding us and making lewd suggestions. I didn't know what the
score was entirely, but you can just bet that I knew something was
wrong when two of them grabbed Mom and held her arms twisted behind
her back, while the others held me and made jokes about how good I
would be. Then they made my mother a proposition. Either she'd strip
and put out for them, they told her, or they'd fuck the shit out of
me. I didn't understand at the time. but I guess they meant that
literally, in view of what they did to Mom.
They made a big show out of it, applauding as Mom took off her clothes --
slowly, garment by garment, with lots of bumps and grinds. And then they
fucked her. In the ass. Her screams of pain were enough to put me off men
for life. With what I've learned since, I know that my revulsion was
compounded by the feeling of guilt because Mom was doing it to save me.
But whatever, I meant every word that I told Peck.
So Peck offered me a deal. Rosie would take all my "backward" customers,
and I'd take her "special rate" ones. Rosie was delighted with the
arrangement. So was I. It made things pretty rough on me, but I was still
glad to jmp at the chance.
And Peck always put the Persuader in my ass when I went out on a date --
for my protection, he said. After all, if I thought that sodomy was so
terrible, I ought to be glad to have a plug there. The trouble is that he
always told the John about it, and showed him how the Persuader worked
("just in case") and gave him the control box to use if he "had" to. And of
course the "need" always arose, Johns being what they are.
Thank God, the Persuader he used was a modified model that only put out
about one-quarter power, but that was enough to be pretty uncomfortable.
Especially since the Johns didn't show much restraint about using the
damned thing.
===================================================================
THE STARLET SLAVE 15
Joy Paine
Index words: (none)
With one exception, the characters in this story have no intentional
resemblance to anyone living or dead. The one exception is that I like
to imagine myself in one of the roles. I'm not going to tell you which
one -- after all, your tastes may be different.
15. In the Trade
One funny thing. Although lots of the teachers -- men and women alike --
were "enjoying my favors", as the old stories used to put it, the kids
at school left me alone. Oh, not quite alone. They knew the score, of
course. Even if the word hadn't gotten around, they would have been able
to guess from the way I dressed. And I knew that Peck's pictures of me
were circulating around the school -- he used to make a point of telling
me whenever he sold a set to any of the students, making sure that I knew
exactly who the buyer was.
And sure, the guys used to rub up against me, and maybe cop a feel now
and then, but no more than they did with the other girls. And it was all
done furtively, as if they thought that they were getting away with
something. I dunno. Maybe it was more fun if they thought they were
getting something that they weren't supposed to. Or maybe they were
afraid of what the other guys would do -- or even more what the girls
would say -- if it was known that they were fooling around with the town
whore.
Even a whore as young and as well stacked as I was.
Above all, none of the fellows ever asked me for a "date". And I'm sure
it wasn't a question of money. Old Peckerhead's rates were very flexible.
Sure, he liked to make as much as he could on every trick I turned, but
he was a good enough businessman to realize that a cheap trick brought
in more than no trick at all. And he got a kick out of my degradation,
too. I think that he would have given my ass away for free, if there ever
was a time when he couldn't find a paying customer. The thing that broke
his heart more than anything else was to see me in any position other than
flat on my back.
No, I didn't mean that literally. He didn't give a shit what position I
did it in, just so long as I was doing it.
And of course he always took advantage of my off periods for a little
diversion for himself. And believe me, I used to bust my ass trying to
get a customer -- any customer at all -- that would give me an excuse to
avoid Peck's attentions.
That may be one of the reasons he used to make our sessions so
unpleasant -- to encourage me to go out and find paying customers that
would occupy my time. But some of it was pure meanness, too.
Interesting, though. Although the guys left me alone, a lot of the girls
regarded me as a sort of folk-heroine. Or maybe that should be fuck-heroine.
Not all of them, of course. Especially not Peck's other girls, who knew
as well as I did how sordid the Life was. Well, they almost knew. I'm
sure that my lot was worse than theirs.
And here's an interesting question: Although he had at least those three
other girls from school in his stable -- and there were the ones that I
recruited, and a couple of others that I was suspicious about, and God
knows how many others -- none of them had to be as blatant as I had to
about their availability. I figured that maybe it was just because of my
big tits, but Rosie told me that was only part of it. One reason he made
me a special case, she pointed out, was that my family situation made it
possible. Mom didn't get out hardly at all, so there wasn't much chance
that she would see me in my working clothes. And everybody knew about her
heart condition, so they weren't going to tell her about me, for fear of
sending her over the brink.
And besides, Rosie pointed out, it was useful for him to have some of his
girls put up respectable fronts. ("Although your front is pretty damned
respectable", she giggled.) Some of his customers liked to have a girl
available for "legitimate" dates, such as for a visiting boss. Or some of
them would like to go out on a conventional date now and then (with an
assured fuck afterward, of course). And it was convenient for Peck to
have a number of "clean" girls for such assignments.
"I'm no psychiatrist", Rosie added, "but it's also just possible that he
takes this approach with you because you were a virgin when he first
screwed you. That would be in line with the way his sadistic mind works.
He took my cherry, too, and you may have noticed that he treats me worse
than any of his other girls, except you."
But like I say, some of the girls actually admired me. Or admired what
they thought I was. They didn't have the slightest idea how painful and
degrading each sexual encounter was for me, and how humiliated I was every
minute. To the girls, I was "liberated", whatever they thought that meant.
And they assumed I knew a hell of a lot more than I did. Sure, I knew a
lot of things that they had never guessed at, but that wasn't what they
had in mind. They used to come to me for advice on "how to get the most
out of sex". If they'd asked me how to get more sex, I could have told
them -- just let old Peck get his meathooks into them. And I did recruit
a number of white slaves for him, too. I'm ashamed of it, but he gave me
a quota to fill -- or sometimes he would designate who the next victim
would be -- and he made it just too damned painful for me if I didn't
meet the quota.
But the girls wanted me to tell them how to enjoy sex. Shit, I'd never
even had one orgasm. Until that date with Dicky, that is.
--
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