Chapter 2: Property

This story is copyright © 2016. All rights are reserved by the author, including that of publication.

I was still standing in the bedroom, dreading whatever was going to happen next.

“I see you’ve finally made it.” It was Bob’s voice.

I still couldn’t speak. I just glared at the little shit.

“I was told you asked to look at your contract. You’re smarter than I remember, but I bet nobody told you what a Personal Assistant is, did they?”

I shook my head no. I still couldn’t speak. I knew it was a housekeeper, but I figured there was more.

“Well, it’s a housekeeper, and you are subject to my orders ... all of my orders, no matter what. Since whoring is legal now, my orders can be sexual. I tell you to do something, and you’ll do it. Just the way you walked into this room. The same way you shut your pie hole when I told you to be quiet.”

WHAT? I continued to glare at the monster.

“If you wish to speak, do so, but in a soft, deferential voice.”

“You can’t do this! It’s illegal ... isn’t it?”

Bob smiled. “Actually, I’ve got a binding contract. You’re my PA, and ... you’ll find that your collar has some ... unique programming added. Free of charge. It won’t cost you a cent.” That last part was said as if he was doing me a favor.

I remembered that Bob’s area of expertise was software, and if he had any kind of control over my collar ... and as my Sponsor, he most definitely did ... Oh my fucking God!

“What kind of programming?” I asked, my voice masking most of the horror I felt so I would be deferential to the fucking bastard.

“You’ll see.”

Bob turned around and yelled into the house. “Renault? Come in! I have somebody I want you to meet.”

There was another person in the house?

As the man walked into the room, Bob made the introduction. “This is Renault. He’s going to be your camera man.”

Did I hear that properly? Camera man?

Before I could say something, Bob turned to the man and said, “Renault, this is Juicy Jesse, who’s only ambition is to be the world’s newest soap star. Juicy, please do a slow, sexy strip tease for your camera man. I want you to audition for him, and show him how much you really, really want the part as the sluttiest whore on all the soaps.”

I glared at Bob. There was no way I was going to strip for anybody! I was not a soap star, and never wanted to be one! “What...” I wanted to finish my question, but...

My ass really wanted to wiggle, my elbows really wanted to press my boobs together, and my hands really, really wanted to unbutton the buttons on my dress.

Bob gave me a shit-eating grin, and simply left the room.

I remembered the feeling from earlier, when I did not want to go into this room. I was working against my own body. It was exhausting to try to work against my two feet, but now it was my two hands, both elbows, and my ass I was fighting. It was too much to even consider!

“Do you like what you see, big boy?” Did that just come out of my mouth?

Fuck! I was fighting a war on six fronts!

My right hand was playing with the top button of my dress. I tried to push it away with my other hand, but then my ass would start to wiggle. When I managed to stop my ass, my traitorous fingers managed to undo that button and started to move on to the next one, and then my ass started to wiggle again. Every time I tried to concentrate on not doing something, some other part of me would go ahead and do something worse!

Meanwhile, the idea of getting naked for the camera man was starting to turn me on! My God, my own thoughts were working against me! Remembering my inability to not walk into the bedroom, I realized that fighting the orders I was given was going to be fruitless and eventually end up with me doing what I was ordered to do in the first place with my entire body and mind exhausted from the internal fighting.

I was starting to feel a little ... sexy? My top was unbuttoned to the middle of my dress, and my hands were already pulling up on my bra, exposing my breasts completely! “Let me show you how much I want that part!”

Despite the fact that I hated Bob with every inch of my being, following his orders, no matter how demeaning or humiliating, was starting to turn me on. This never happened before! When Bob was his usual asshole self, I simply loathed him. Now, I still loathed him, but my juices were flowing at the humiliating thought of following his every word!

Bob came back with a couple of beers in his hand. He handed one to that Renault fellow, and popped his open as well. He took a swig. “Like what you see, Ren?”

“Well, I’ve seen soap stars that really wanted a part. She seems to be a bit hesitant. Maybe she doesn’t want the job after all.”

“No!” I screamed, feeling my opportunity dissolving. “I really, really want this part. Here, let me show you!” I pulled the two sides of my dress as far apart as I could, popping the remaining buttons. I pulled my arms through and then let the dress fall down past my hips on its own, leaving my breasts exposed under my bra, and standing with only my panties on. I kicked the dress away from me, and at the same time, reached behind to unclasp my bra. With a final bend, I pulled my panties down until I was standing in front of the two men, naked as the day I was born.

“Don’t you like what you see? I really, really need the part!” I said, almost believing my own words. Making this man believe I wanted the part was somehow the most important thing in my life at that moment.

“She’s OK for an older chick,” Renault said, talking to Bob, not me.

“I’m only twenty-six!” I said.

“What else can you do for me?” Renault asked, placing his hand not-so-subtly on his crotch.

“Do you want me to suck you? I’ll do it. You’ll love it, I promise!”

“She actually sucks at sucking, Ren,” Bob said.

I shot Bob a furious look, but all was forgotten as I turned my attention back to Renault. It was important for me to get that part! I fell to my knees and undid his pants. I couldn’t pull his dick out fast enough, and I guided it into my mouth.

Never in my life have I enjoyed giving blow jobs. Not once. The first time, I did it in the hopes that it would make Bob and I closer. I regretted doing it because afterward, he always demanded it, telling me I was holding out on him. I just did it for special occasions, and stopped once I found out he was getting his sex on the side.

Now, I needed to give the blow job of my life. I wanted that part! I never wanted anything so badly. I licked and I slurped and I sucked and I rubbed him desperately. It was the first person to ever have any part of him inside me--my mouth, my pussy, my ass--except for Bob, and I promised myself back when he left me that I would never put myself into that position again. Now, here I was willingly, desperately sucking a stranger as if there was no tomorrow.

I felt humiliated that I was being treated this way. Along with that humiliation, I found I was never so turned on in my life! Here I was, doing something I never imagined I’d ever do again, and in front of and under orders of the person I hated the most in the world.

“Do you see between her legs? She’s getting off from sucking you, Ren!”

I knew I was wet there. I also knew I wasn’t getting off from sucking. Something else was driving my sexual excitement. Bob didn’t order me to get sexually excited, so I wasn’t sure where it was coming from. I never was so humiliated in my life, even when Bob told me I suck at ass fucking! This feeling was new. I was never one to get off on humiliation before. I mean, it never turn me on. Somehow, something changed, and now it might. One glance at my ex, and I knew it was Bob that was causing this to happen to me.

Why did I think that? Because I was married to him. I knew the way he thought. If you crossed him, he didn’t just get even. He crushed whoever pissed him off. He did it to me those years ago when he left me to fend for myself and Shirley. I thought he already got the better of me, but now he purchased my contract and was going to make my life a living hell on earth.

Suddenly, even as I was sucking a complete stranger off, my mind went blank for a moment, and then there was an image in my mind of something that must have happened on the last night I saw Bob.

I was sleeping. I was exhausted.

Something moved on the bed, and I opened my eyes. “Bob?” My head felt terrible. My voice sounded hoarse.

“You’re drunk. Go back to sleep...”

I shook my head, but it felt as if everything inside my head was rattling inside and I stopped. I started to feel a bit of nausea. “Where are you going?” I finally asked.

Bob smiled at me. It was a smile I knew, and even in my drunken state, I knew that smile. It was his dangerous smile. “You’re going to pay for that tiny penis remark.”

“No...” I closed my eyes, wishing the world would stop spinning.

I fell back asleep.

I’m not sure why that memory came back, completely unbidden. It never came up in the almost five years it was since he left me. However, it did as I was sucking the guy he brought into the bedroom.

Bob was going to make me pay for that comment.

I don’t even know what got into me to say what I said, but it did feel great when I insulted him that way. Serves him right for the way he constantly insulted me. Now, in the present, I know when I said those things to him I was making the wrongest move in my life. At the time and until that memory popped back into my mind, I felt empowered at having done so!

Just think what was in store for me! The contract only says five years, I reminded myself. Only five years.

This is the first day of those five years.

It was going to be a long five years.

All of a sudden, Renault grunted, and my mouth filled with his seed. Normally, I would find a tissue and spit it out, but that was no way to make him feel as if I really wanted the part in a damned soap opera. I swallowed it, hating myself for doing it, but looking up at Renault with big puppy dog eyes, making him think that I couldn’t have asked for anything yummier in the world.

Renault’s dick softened, and I changed to a gentle sucking, keeping him in my mouth until he gave me some indication he wanted me to stop. That’s what being a good little whore is all about, and I wanted to be...

What the fuck? What did I want to be? A fucking whore? A FUCKING WHORE? Where the fuck did that thought come from? I was horrified at the fact that this was coming from my own mind. I mean, I could take it from Bob. I knew he hated me nearly as much as I hated him, but this was myself talking to me!

No. It had to be the collar. Could the collar put thoughts into my head? My God!

“How did she do?” Bob asked, not even bothering to note the horror I felt as I realized what I got into.

“Is it her first time?” Renault asked. “Because it was OK for a first timer.”

“No. She’s actually sucked me a couple dozen times before. I told you she sucked at sucking.”

“Really? You knew this chick before you contracted her?”

“She’s my ex-wife.”

“Fuck me!” Renault started to laugh. Bob joined him.

“Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

I nodded, ashamed, and still horrified by the discovery I just made. Renault’s dick was still in my mouth, and somehow, that increased my shame. I was ashamed to have married that louse. I was ashamed that I fell so low that I ended up collared. I was ashamed that the vilest person I knew now had total control over me and could put thoughts into my head unbidden. I still wanted to prove that I really, really wanted the soap opera job...

“You can spit it out, Jess,” Bob said, still laughing. “The audition is over.”

Now I no longer felt that getting the stupid part was as important ... or was important at all. That desire that held me captive for the last fifteen minutes just disappeared, leaving only the horniness from my utter humiliation remaining. I needed to get off, but there was no way I was going to frig myself in front of these two assholes.

Dutifully, I pulled my head back, allowing the cock to slip from between my lips. It was not as big as it felt when it was in my mouth, but it wasn’t hard right now, either. It looked quite similar to what I remember of Bob’s, and then I tried to erase that thought from my memory.

“You utter piece of trash,” I said, amazed that I was now allowed to talk.

“I am allowing you to continue to tell me what you think about me. In fact, I think it’s kind of cute, so you will always tell me how much you hate me. However, you will never, and I mean NEVER, talk shit about me in front of your daughter. Do you understand?”

I immediately nodded, totally obedient. Then I realized what he said. “She’s your daughter, too.”

“No. You can keep the little brat. She thinks she’s my daughter, and I’ll let her continue to think that, but remember, you will obey every fucking little order I give you no matter how humiliating or gross. As I said, you won’t piss me off by telling me how much you hate me or hate what I make you do. I don’t care that you hate me. You know how I feel about you. I actually went and spent the money to collar your sorry little ass. It makes all these little things you do for me all the more sweet.”

“Man,” Renault said, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you collared your ex. I bet that’s a first.”

“Well, nobody knows she’s my ex, actually, but I do know all her old friends. Imagine their surprise when they receive a holostick of her first season as a soap opera star! One hundred and twelve episodes of her sucking, fucking, dyking, and ass fucking, one on one or in groups. Just imagine it!”

That was one of my biggest fears; a Hollywood studio would pick up my contract and put me on one of the soaps. All the people that knew me back then would see what I was reduced to. When I signed the contract, I gritted my teeth and tried to tell myself that I was doing this for Shirley. Now that he came back into the picture, my fears became more real. He was going to make sure that my friends found out. That relief I felt when I found I was going to “just” be a housekeeper was all but forgotten now.

“You are one sick individual,” Renault said. It was the first time I actually agreed with the asshole camera man. Bob was indeed the sickest person I knew. “You collared your own ex-wife, and then the first thing you do is have her suck off a complete stranger. From the look on her face right now and what she said to you, she probably hated every minute of it but did it despite that.”

“I’ve lots of things to tell about Jess. You’ll love it, but first, I need to christen her.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, suddenly wary.

Bob took a big pull from his beer can, emptying it. He belched, and then looked at me.

“Do you enjoy sucking cock?” Bob asked me.


“If you had to suck off every man in the world but were allowed to avoid one guy, who would it be?”


“Tell me what you truly feel about sucking cock.”

“I hate it.” There was no difficulty in telling the truth. I knew the truth was the only thing I’d be able to say, but I enjoyed saying this to him.

“How do you feel about me?”

“I think you’re the lowest, most wretched excuse for a human being that ever lived. You could play the devil in the holos, except nobody would ever believe the devil is as pure evil as you are. I wish that a horde of biting ants were to march up your ass and eat you up from the inside out and then morph into a full size hippopotamus while they’re still inside you. I hope...”

“Enough. We get the picture.” He turned to Renault and laughed. “See what I mean?”

“She really hates you.”

“That’s putting it mildly. She would want me dead, only her collar prevents her from doing the least amount of harm to me.”

I actually didn’t know that fact, but it made sense.

“Wow, I’ve been around a lot of collared sluts, and some of them can be kind of vicious, even with the collars,” said Renault.

“Well, Jess is just as harmless as a little kitten. All she can do is get mad and talk a good game, but she couldn’t even nibble the slightest bit on your dick when it was in your mouth because I’ve programmed her not to injure while serving.”

“Amazing. You did the programming?”

Bob nodded, smiling evilly at me. “Now watch this.” Bob turned back to me. “Take my cock out and gently put it in your mouth. You will suck on it lovingly and only suck on it. No licking, no taking it out. Also, keep your hands behind your back. Yeah ... that’s good. Right now, I just want your mouth. I also want you to keep your eyes wide open and staring at me as if you are begging me to let you continue and that it’s the most important thing in your life to do. Now keep my cock in your mouth until you receive your holy nectar from me. You will swallow it all without spilling a drop and then, when you are sure there is no more to get, you will gently take it out of your mouth and lovingly thank me for what you got, and make it the most sincere thanks you ever said.”

I sighed. There was no use fighting. I was already still on my knees, so I just crawled over to Bob and did what I was told, feeling totally defeated and humiliated, and therefore even more turned on. I sucked gently, feeling his cock inside me for the first time since that fateful night when he got me so drunk I passed out.

As I sucked and held my eyes open as he instructed, I considered the complex instruction he gave me. I was amazed that the collar was able ensure that all details of such an order were followed without fail.

Bob can usually hold back his eruptions. It was one of the things I hated about blowing him. He’d make me do it for a half hour and he wouldn’t blow his nut, and if I complained, he said it was because I wasn’t good enough! However, I knew it was him intentionally holding back.

My fingers idly rubbed against my pussy lips, and I felt myself get turned on. Then I realized I was frigging myself and the two guys were watching me ... but what the hell, they both saw me naked and blowing both of them already. I was currently giving the best head I probably ever gave to the one person I detested. What did I have to lose?

It came without warning.

It came in a flood, almost choking me.

It was warm, salty, and most definitely not semen.

The little shit was using my mouth as his personal toilet bowl!

I couldn’t stop sucking, because of his orders. I needed to swallow, because the little shit ordered me to. I was required to swallow every fucking drop...

After a very long time, it finally ended. I felt as if there was a bag of cement in my stomach, but I knew I would be punished if I puked it up. After all, that would be spilling it, and I knew he didn’t want me spilling a single drop. Good little whores anticipate the clients’ needs, and I was going to be a...

Fuck. There was that phrase again. That damned phrase...

I still needed to do something...

I lovingly let his cock slide from my lips. I gave him my most thankful look and said, “Thank you for allowing me to swallow your wonderful piss. Can you please piss in my mouth some more?”

I didn’t really mean that, but the thank you needed to be sincere, and God damned if I didn’t feel every word I said. At that moment, I really would have done anything for him to do it to me again.

“Please? Please? Please?” I begged, asking for a repeat of the most disgusting thing he did to me since he raped my ass.

Bob wore that big smug look on his face that I wanted to wipe off with a hatchet, but I still wanted him to piss in my mouth again. I wanted it more than anything!

Renault said, “You fucking pissed in your wife’s mouth?”


“She really sounds as if she wants more?”

“I do!” I insisted, meaning it.

Bob showed me his evil smile. “So, Ren, do you need to take a piss? I think that beer should have given you a good charge by now.”

I really hoped his friend needed to piss. I wanted to show Bob how much I liked it. “Please, piss in my mouth!” I begged, looking at one man and then the other. “Please?”

Renault looked tempted. He turned to Bob and asked “Do you mind?”

“Not at all. Piss away!”

I couldn’t get my face onto that guy’s dick fast enough. I sucked greedily.

It didn’t even take a minute. Soon, I received another stomach full of urine in my digestive system.

“Oh, thank you!”

“You can stop thanking us.”

Just like that, the desire was gone.

How far did I sink? Begging a stranger to piss into my mouth. I fell to the ground, wanting to cry at my situation. However...

Good little whores don’t cry after serving, that little voice told me.

My tears faded before they even formed. There was no use feeling sorry for myself. I composed myself and got up, returning to my knees.

“Wow,” was all Renault could say.

Bob just wore that smarmy grin that he always got when he knew he won.

Yes. Bob was the man ... and I was his good little whore.

It turned out that Renault actually was a camera man on one of the soaps you can get on the Uniweb. Bob was definitely threatening to make me a star.

I wondered about the legality of what Bob was doing. I knew all the laws against consensual sex were no longer, but there was no way I consented to the way that I was being treated. However, the contract I signed with WfD made anything he ordered me to do consensual. I wasn’t a lawyer, but I bet the contracts with Sponsors were air-tight.

“Daddy, what kind of meat is this?” Shirley asked.

“It’s called a porterhouse, Princess. It’s a kind of steak.”

“I like it. Why didn’t we have porterhouse at the shelter, Mommy?”

“Real meat is kind of expensive,” I explained. “Porterhouse even more so. We couldn’t afford it.”

“But we can afford it with Daddy here?”

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