by starfiend

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, NonConsensual, Reluctant, Rape, Coercion, Incest, Mother, Son, .

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: The story of how a son wakes up his long abused mother to the true delights of sex.

Carol looked briefly up from the cock she was gently sucking, and was shocked again at the sight that greeted her. Somehow, for no explicable reason, it brought all back the carefully suppressed memories.

She had not had a very happy childhood, not because she was mistreated, or anything like that, but because she had, to a certain extent, been ignored. Her brother Ben, older than her by nearly three years, had had Multiple Sclerosis, diagnosed when he was just three months old. Their parents had naturally lavished all their attention on Ben, quite unintentionally ignoring their younger daughter. Carol had loved her brother, particularly because he radiated out such love and happiness, it was impossible not to love him, and in his own way he had loved her.

Ben died shortly after his eighteenth birthday, when Carol was not yet fifteen, and both she and her parents had been dreadfully upset. Unfortunately, her parents had turned in on themselves, leaving Carol to grieve on her own.

By the time she left school at sixteen, her father, a career diplomat, had moved the family to the USA. The move had not helped, so by now she was a little disturbed, and found it difficult to make friends. Just before her seventeenth birthday, and disenchanted by the job she was doing at the local super market, she joined a local commune.

This was the worst mistake of her life, and it didn't take her long to realise it. The commune wasn't a separate entity, it turned out to be part of a much wider network of communes, with people regularly moving from one to another. Everybody in the commune wore simple shifts and boots, and nothing else, not even underwear. At first it was difficult to work out who was who, but after a while she realised that the different colours signified different skills and trades. As an unskilled newcomer she wore plain white.

About three weeks into her stay, and two days before her seventeenth birthday, she was told she was being sent to another camp some seventy miles away, there to be trained to be a camp listener. This puzzled her at first, but she accepted it with equanimity, though she did notice some of the other women giving her odd looks, some of them even steering well clear of her. She put it down to jealousy, but was soon disabused of that notion.

At the new camp she was allowed to settle into her small cell, the first time she had had a room of her own since joining the commune, and then had to see the camp leader.

"Are you a virgin?" was his first abrupt question to her.

She gave a little gasp of surprise before nodding her head.

"All right, take your shift off."


"Take your shift off."

"But ... but..."

He started towards her, an ugly expression on his face, his fists clenched. One fist lashed out and caught her just beneath the eye. "Do as you are fucking well told." he grated.

Carol, crying and in pain, pulled the shift over her head and held it in front of her. The man, who's name she still didn't know, grabbed it and flung it behind her.

"Stand up straight." She did so, sobbing and embarrassed. He grabbed her roughly by the shoulder, ignoring her flinch, and turned her. She was a beautiful young woman, rich dark red/brown hair that reached to her shoulder blades, large brown eyes, small upturned nose, generous mouth that normally smiled readily. Her figure was equally stunning, firm 34b breasts with tiny nipples and huge aureoles, 24 inch waist, and thirty four inch hips, smooth skin, and long shapely legs. The colour of her pubic hair proved that the colour of the hair on her head was completely natural, while her small, shapely, buttocks drew the eye from the rear.

But it was her hair that was her greatest asset, and had now become her greatest enemy, for it was this that the previous camps leaders had seen, and known would make her useful.

"Lie down," he snarled, pointing at a camp bed in the corner.

"What are you going to do?" Quavered Carol in a small voice.

"Lie down." The menace was back, and Carol hurried to obey, fearful of what would come next.

She was right to be afraid, because while her back had been turned, he had removed his own shift, and was now advancing on her, his huge, to her eyes, erection out in front. She began to whimper, terrified now, knowing what was coming. He reached her and pressed her back onto the hard bed, wrenching her knees apart with a brutal strength.

He raped her mercilessly for over an hour, leaving her bruised and bloodied, her spirit totally broken. The last couple of times she'd just lain there and let him do it, her mind just retreating in on itself and ignoring him and the whole world. She was seventeen that day.

She awoke in her cell, instantly remembering the previous day, for she could tell it was now the following day, and began to sob, quietly but uncontrollably. The door opened and at first Carol was terrified that it would be the man who had raped her, instead it was a much younger man, his eyes filled with sorrow and sympathy.

"I'm so sorry," he told her gently, "Ralph should not have done what he did. He has been punished," he said with such a finality to his voice that made Carol wonder. He put a tray onto her bed. "Now eat." He left before she could respond to his statements.

For two days she was ignored except by the young man who brought her in her meals. He refused to tell her anything beyond his name, Peter, and that she would learn everything when she was ready. On the third day she learned just how deep was the hole she was in.

Just after 'breakfast' Peter came back into the room, and instead of departing with her tray, he sat down on the bed in front of her. "You are to become a hand maiden," he told her.

"I was told listener," she murmured.

"It's the same thing. We prefer 'hand maiden' or simply 'maiden' here, but out in the camps you are normally referred to as listeners. It makes outsiders," the term used for everybody not a member of the communes, "think that you are just social workers or something like that. And in a way, you are." He paused for a moment and looked at her. "Do you know anything about our camps?" She shook her head.

He paused and took a deep breath. "Well, as you're probably already aware, the whole movement has just under one hundred thousand members world wide, just under half of them here in north America., including Canada and Mexico. We have communes in Europe and Australia, two in Brazil, a couple in South Africa and one each in Japan, South Korea, Thailand and the Philippines. The one we had in Hong Kong was closed down when the chinks took over back in '97, most of those members are either in hiding or in prison. A few escaped to other countries, including this one.

"The other thing you should know, is that there are far more men than women in the system, in fact, for every woman, there are around seventeen men. This means that most men will never get a partner. This in turn means that for all the other sixteen men, something has to be done. But if one woman has a partner, there are thirty three men vying for the next woman. In fact it's far worse than that. if we have one thousand men, that's about 58 women. If fifty seven of those men have partners, that leaves just one woman for the other nine hundred and forty three. Given that we have somewhere in the region of ninety four thousand men, and about five and a half thousand of them have partners, that leaves eighty eight and a half thousand men for the remaining 95 or so women." He stared at her for a moment, and then told her, in a quiet voice, the worst news.

"There's a month's training to start off with, but then after that, for the first eight months or so, you will have at least one thousand men between your legs. You will treat them nicely, you will give them pleasure, and you will do it." His voice turned a little hard as he spoke the last sentence. "After that, you will have one month off to rest, but there will be a one week refresher course in there if we think it's necessary, and then you will go around the smaller camps, along with a small group of others, and you will do the same for all the camps who do not have permanent hand maidens. After about a year of this, you will be brought back here, and the cycle will begin again.

"There will be a three week training period starting today, followed by one week off. After that, for the next eight months, thirty three weeks, you will have forty men a week for three weeks, then a week off timed for your menses. After that, the standard rate will be raised to forty five men a week. During your camp tour though, you may be lucky and have as little as twenty men a week, with longer breaks between, but you are far more likely to be hitting the maximum."

"This camp has eight maidens based here, simply because it is one of the largest. Four are here permanently, the other four, which may be a different four each time, are often out at the various smaller camps. If a camp is not big enough to support at least three, then it has none, and has to wait for the peripatetic maidens. Strictly, this camp needs six, but by having eight here half the year, and four here for the remainder, we cope both here, and with the smaller camps. You'll be our ninth, and we've had authorisation from the Philippines, to recruit and maintain a tenth. In a few cases, camps send us a girl for training, and we send them back a year later, fully trained and experienced.

"As far as the smaller camps go, you could, theoretically, be sent anywhere in the world, but in practice, you probably won't be sent outside of the America's, north and south. You may get to Australia, but that's unlikely, and you may even get as far as Japan or the Philippines, though that's extremely unlikely. In your case, you absolutely will not be sent to Europe or Africa."

"Why?" asked Carol in a whisper.

"In the first case because you're British, in the second case because you're not black. This is a mixed camp, but the two African camps are basically black. Even white South African women are sent to Australia, because there are still a few racial tensions, despite the end of apartheid and the fact that the people in these camps are amongst the most tolerant people in that country."

"However, back to today." He smiled grimly, ignoring Carol's sudden terrified and despairing look. "For the next five years you will have between fifteen and eighteen hundred men a year between your legs. Between seven thousand five hundred and nine thousand. That's not to say they will all be different, but a vast majority will be. Out of the eight-two-fifty average, say two to three hundred will be duplicates." Then he gave a little laugh. "Well actually, it's possible you'll have less than that if they don't all want to fuck you, but don't bank on it. At the end of that five years, if a man want's you as a partner, and you agree, you will become his partner.

"In return for all this you get a room of your own rather than have to sleep in the dormitory," he waved around the small cell they were in, "you will be given extra rations, extra clothing, makeup and washing stuff. You will have no out door duties except for emergencies, and that really only means evacuation due to fire. There are also a number of other concessions and privileges that I can't remember off the top of my head."

He stared at her. "Do you understand?"

Carol just stared at him, her mind whirling in terror. "Don't be afraid," said Peter. "It actually isn't as bad as it sounds. First, you only have forty five men a week, and for the first eight months only forty, and at fifty minutes each, with a ten minute break between, that's less than forty hours work. Everybody else works at least seventy hours a week, and often more. You can specify when you do your hours as well, you could do ten a day for four days, eight a day for five days, seven a day for five days, and five on the sixth. If you really felt up to it, you could even do twelve a day for three days, and spread the last four out one a day, two a day, just so long as you do your forty. It's a little more hectic with forty five, but with practice and a regular rhythm you won't notice it."

"If you don't get a partner after those five years, you just carry on until you've taken twenty thousand men, which usually takes about twelve years. You then have three options. You take a partner, though by that time it's unusual for many men to want you as a partner, and those that do, you probably wouldn't want. You can keep going, and as a second timer, you can set your own limits, provided you have at least twenty, and an average of thirty, a week for forty weeks a year, or you can be neutered."

"Neutered?" asked Carol weakly.

"You will have a complete hysterectomy, a double mastectomy, a complete female circumcision removing clitoris, inner and outer labia, and most of the vagina. That will then be sewn completely closed, and a small tube inserted into the urethra to allow you to pee. You will also be completely shaven and depilated, both between your legs and on top of your head, your eyebrows, everywhere."

Carol was terrified now, and tears were starting to leak out of the corner of her eyes. She just stared at him, a horrible croaking sound coming out of her mouth.

"By then many women actually want that, and they are treated honourable, and reverently. They still get many of the privileges, but without the pain. On the other hand, second timers are also honoured. We have three in this camp, one now approaching fifty, though in her case she's only been doing it for twenty years anyway. At the menopause she'll have to retire, and at least three men have offered to be her partner, all of them men worth having." He grinned for a moment. "She's had over thirty thousand men by now, and if you kept going until you were fifty, I was working this out earlier, you'd have the best part of forty five thousand men between your legs. As a second timer, it's entirely up to you whether you go out to the camps. You could be out there all the time, we have one that only comes back here for about a month a year, you could stay here all the time, as our fifty year old is now doing. You can split it how you like."

He stared at her for a moment longer. "Now," he said after a while. "get out of bed."

She got shakily out of bed, and stood by it, trembling.

He gave a small smile as he realised she'd slightly misinterpreted his request. "Lie down on top of the covers," he said gently.

She did so, holding her shift tightly to her, her legs clamped firmly together.

"Let go of your shift."

"Noo," she moaned, her hands gripping even tighter.

"I'm not going to hurt you, just let go of your shift."

She still couldn't, and her eyes closed in fear.

"Ralph is one of our enforcers," said Pete gently, "generally we don't have to use him more than once. In your case though, you've already met him. Just remember, if you don't obey, he's the one you'll have to deal with." He paused a moment. "Are you going to obey me?"

Carol nodded her head shakily.

"Good. Let go of your shift."

She did so, but her hands were still clenched into fists in front of her. "Arms by your sides," he told her. She did so, but her arms swung back into place when he gently lifted the hem.

"Arms by your sides." He lifted the front of the shift up to her waist, and looked at her body. "You're very beautiful," he told her. "I really didn't believe that your hair was that colour naturally." He reached out and touched her pubic hair, ignoring her terrified flinch. "This colour is natural isn't it?" he asked softly.

"Yes." she whispered. "Don't hurt me," she added a moment later, her voice very childlike in her fear.

"I won't. I promise."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm just going to lick you three orgasms, right now, then nothing until tomorrow. Spread your legs just a little."

Slowly, fearfully, her ankles moved just six inches apart, and then stopped.

"Okay, that's fine," said Pete. He bent down and kissed her pubic mound, allowing his tongue to slowly reach between her thighs. For an hour, he licked and kissed her pussy, tickling her clitoris, pushing his tongue inside her vagina, sucking on her labia, occasionally moving his mouth up to her navel or down to her thighs. Once he even kissed her breasts, sucking at the nipples until they were erect, using his fingers to masturbate her while he did so. She had spread her legs much wider within just five minutes, and her body was aroused, but not especially so, and she'd been no nearer to orgasm at the end, than she'd been right at the start.

Pete looked at her bemused. "All right, back into bed," he said after a while. Carol got into bed and closed her eyes. Pete watched her for two minutes and then left the room. Three hours later he was back with her lunch tray. He sat and watched her eat it, saying nothing until she'd finished.

"Okay, we'll try again. Lie on top of the bed, your legs apart, your hands by your sides." Carol complied, slowly, and Pete again began to lick her out. An hour later she still hadn't responded, and again Pete ordered her back to bed.

Exactly the same thing happened, and with exactly the same results, at the evening meal.

What Pete didn't realise, was just how much Carol was loving the sensations. She hadn't orgasmed because she didn't want to, and was controlling her body, but aside from that, the liquid feeling engendered in her body by his tongue and mouth were the most wonderful feelings she had ever felt in her short life, and she was keeping them going simply because it allowed her to forget her fears.

The following morning Pete again brought in her breakfast, and Carol watched him warily. After the small meal he ordered her out of bed and they began again. After that she didn't need to be ordered out. For the rest of that day, and the following three days, after each meal she would calmly get out of bed, take her shift off, and lie on top of the bed, her legs spread wide. Pete would spend the next hour or so attempting, and failing, to lick her to orgasm. He was extremely baffled and confused, and though Carol didn't know it, he was getting a lot of stick from some of the other trainers.

The day after that, her period started. Pete looked at the bloody shift in surprise.

"Shit," he said, more to himself than to her. He looked up. "Someone has cocked up good and proper. For some reason we thought you'd had your period just before you came here."

Carol was suddenly afraid again, and Pete saw it. "Oh don't worry, it's not your fault. It's someone else who'll get the bollocking. We'll start again when it's over." He left.

She didn't see him again for six days, her meals being brought to her by a succession of girls, all not much older than her, each of whom were wearing ordinary clothes rather than the shifts, but all of whom were wearing a ring with a large red stone on their wedding finger. It took her a couple of days to realise that these were others just like her. They were all very pretty, but although they smiled to her, none of them would speak to her.

On the sixth day, Pete was back. This time, after nearly forty minutes, he brought her to a small, but very definite climax. "See," he said smiling. "That wasn't so bad. The plan calls for twenty one days training. The first day you should be just licked to orgasm three times. Normally it would all be done during this period, but for you, I'm going to leave the second until after lunch, because of the problems last week." He kissed her on the cheek. "Get back into bed for now, and have a rest." He gave her some reading material, books about both the male and the female bodies, about sex and loving, and about psychology, physiology and biology.

The second period, after lunch, Pete brought her orgasm on after thirty minutes. The third time, after tea, took just ten minutes, though this time he carried on and brought her to two more climaxes in fairly quick succession. None of them were particularly big orgasms, which disappointed Pete somewhat, though more for her sake than his.

The following day, she had to use her own mouth to bring him off. Having 'trained' some fifty women in the past, Pete had long since learned a great deal about control, and was normally able to hold off for a very long time.

This time he was surprised. After giving her a ten minute lecture on the male organ, and how to 'blow' it, he lay down and watched her approach him. This was always a nervous moment. Just once, the girl he been supposed to train, had tried to bite his penis off. What she hadn't realised was that Ralph, or rather his predecessor, was waiting outside, and at Pete's first shout of agony had been inside and had beaten her quite severely. Carol though surprised him in a totally different way. Her delicate touch and soft mouth brought him to a climax in less than fifteen minutes.

"That was very good," he said when he got his breath back. "We'll do the same this afternoon."

Again, this wasn't normal. The usual thing would have been for nothing more until the following day, but he had been so surprised he wanted to check it out. Quite apart from the fact that she'd given him the best blow job he'd ever had. After lunch was the same, but it took her a little longer as he was more prepared.

"You should be trying to get them to last," he said after a while. "You're a natural talent with your mouth. Slow down and take your time. If your client wants to be quick, then so be it, but learn to slow down as well. Okay?" She nodded, expressionless. "Okay, after tea I want you to hold me for an hour. Not let me come until after that time. Okay."

She nodded.

That eveniong Pete was in heaven. Carol brought him close to climax fairly quickly, but then, helped by the fact that he had already come twice that day, she held him close to climax for over fifty minutes, using her talented mouth and tongue, her hands, and even her teeth. When he finally came, his shriek of delight could be heard almost clear across the camp. He ejaculated more than he had ever done before, and he was shattered and unable to move for over ten minutes.

Carol on the other hand was nearly in tears. Her jaw muscles ached like they had never done before, with tendrils of cramp creeping out, and her back and thighs ached from the tension of holding herself in one position for so long. After Pete had climaxed, showering her face with his come, she too had just collapsed onto the bed, completely unable to move.

"Next lesson tomorrow," whispered Pete some time later. "Massage." He staggered out of the cell, but Carol was already asleep, Pete's sticky sperm drying on her face and in her hair where she had left it. She didn't hear him mutter to himself, reminding himself to tell her to swallow next time.

The following day after breakfast, he just massaged her, explaining what he was doing, until she was almost asleep. Then, that day and the next, trained her in the art of giving back and neck massages. She was okay, and would get better with practice, but for now it was not one of her better 'subjects'. At the start and end of each session though, he would first lick her to orgasm, than have her lick him to erection and just beyond, though not to orgasm, the point being to remind her that above all else she was being trained to give sexual satisfaction.

Days five and six and he taught her all the male erogenous zones, and how to excite them with mouth, lips tongue, and any other part of her body. Again she had to 'blow' him at the start and end of each session, but he was no longer blowing her as well. He also made sure she knew how to control, and to make it last. On day seven, this turned into a lesson on masturbation, and how to masturbate a man in general. He explained that, like women, all men were different, and the techniques were, of necessity, only very general.

On day eight this was turned the other way around, and he made her teach him what she liked, and how she masturbated herself. This was timetabled to spill over into days nine and ten as well if necessary. Most girls were particularly shy about this, and it often went into two days. A few took three days, whilst a very small number managed to release all their inhibitions enough to do it in the first day. During this time Pete taught her about her own erogenous zones, and how to masturbate herself more effectively. Some of this was done on her own, without anybody else in the room, but Carol had a sneaking suspicion, correct as it turned out, she was under observation, and diligently obeyed her instructions. Carol took two days to masturbate herself to twenty five orgasms, at least fifteen of which were in front of Pete, which meant that for her, day ten was a free day. Pete gave her a vibrator and suggested she learn how to use it on herself, to improve her own masturbating techniques.

Carol took the vibrator and spent a short while running it over herself, but although she found it not unpleasant, and even brought herself to a small climax after a little while. She didn't like using it though, and after her climax left it in the drawer and didn't use it again that day.

By this stage of their 'training', most of the girls he had taught, and to a limited extent that included Carol, were resigned to what was happening to them, and learned as much as they could about the subject of sex, and sexuality, their own and the males they would be tending.

From now on, they would be spending as much as ten hours of the day together, almost all of it in the nude, and most of it in direct physical contact with each other.

Day eleven was a continuation of days five and six, except that this time she was learning not how to arouse generally, but how to bring on an orgasm using everything except her mouth and vagina. She learned how to use her thighs, her breasts, her armpits, her hair, toes, buttocks, even her navel to excite a man to orgasm. Although Pete came to orgasm only once that day, by the end he knew that she would be able bring a man to orgasm using any of the techniques he had taught her.

Day twelve was turnaround time again, and he licked and sucked her to multiple orgasms. This time though, instead of concentrating on just her genitals, he licked and sucked every inch of her, watching her carefully as she came to a powerful and noisy orgasm with his toe between her labia, her toe in his mouth.

Days thirteen and fourteen were a complete change of pace. She was taught by other people how to use makeup properly, how to keep herself clean, and how to look after her hair, her body and health, and even how to put on, and remove, a condom.

On day fifteen, they started the final leg. He started by teaching her how to get herself aroused enough to take a man inside her within five minutes, and how to use lubricants or her own saliva if she wasn't ready. The vibrator, and a larger rubber dildo were used a great deal, as they still had not had sex. This was to change that very afternoon. Pete had started by describing the main sex positions, and to finish off the day, Pete got her to lie down, legs apart and knees raised. He lay on top of her, making her take most of his weight, and slowly slid inside her. He made her bring her legs up and around his waist, but they didn't move for about ten minutes. Pete reluctantly pulled free of this exceedingly beautiful girl, kissed her on the forehead, and told her to get some sleep, as she had a long day ahead of her. Carol knew just what was coming, and cried herself to sleep that night.

Days sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, and nineteen, they'd made love a number of times each day, each time in a different position. He also taught her about controlling premature ejaculations, how to control violent men, and how to bring them to a climax quickly. They also spent a lot of time in mutual masturbation, and in mutual oral sex, the sixty nine position, teaching her how to concentrate on more than one thing at once, and how to move from one position into another without hurting either herself or her partner. At first they were spending an hour at a time with his penis inside her, and by the end he was inside her for four hours solid, orgasming three times himself, Carol twice, moving all the time, and never in the same position for more than ten minutes at a time. Although Carol climaxed like this, in fact it was Pete's fingers on her clitoris, or his tongue on her breast that was the trigger.

This was not easy for Pete. Carol was one of the most beautiful and responsive girls he'd ever taught, and he was starting to fall in love with her, as to be honest he had done with a number of the girls he'd taught, but this time much more deeply. He found her to be a natural with her body, never needing to have anything explained more than once, and often understanding even before explanations were forthcoming.

Day twenty was normally a washup, anything that had been missed for any reason during the previous nineteen days was covered now. In Carols case, this actually meant going back to the massage from right at the start of the course. Pete cheated slightly, though Carol never knew, by combining the massage with another three hour fuck.

Day twenty one, officially the final day, was always a test, though the trainee 'maiden' never knew that until afterwards. They always believed that the following day they would be starting work.

One of the other girls brought in her breakfast that morning, and took the tray away again half an hour later. Then a man she'd never met before came into the room. "We have one hour," the man said courteously, "I wish to come five times."

Carol gulped in shock, believing that this was the real thing, and only just stopping herself from sobbing piteously. She carefully explained to him that in fact they only had fifty minutes, and also that five was probably a little excessive. "Three is probable, four possible, five uncertain at best," she explained.

The man nodded. "Well we'd best get on with it then hadn't we."

It was very impersonal, very mechanical, with no pleasure at all on Carol's side, though he did manage to come, just, five times in the allotted period.

The second person came in ten minutes later. Fortunately Carol had got herself sorted out, so although she was disappointed, she was not surprised when he came in. This one she had to lead virtually by the hand, and although she didn't orgasm, she pretended she had, for the youngsters sake, as he appeared to be very inexperienced. In fact, though she didn't know it just then, he was five years older than her, and one of the more experienced trainers.

She had two more visitors that morning, and two more after lunch. Each time she sent her 'client' away completely satisfied, and each time. she died just a little more inside.

"Well," said Pete the following morning, "you have not only passed, you have passed with flying colours." He explained about the test, and what each person had been testing for, and how she had been marked. "You're the best I've ever trained," he told her, "and one of the best ever."

Carol just nodded, her face expressionless.

"The chances of us meeting again, after today, are not very high, and the chances of us making love again are even lower, therefore," he paused and gulped, and Carol realised that he was nervous. Perhaps this wasn't standard practice she thought.

It wasn't. Pete was now head over heels in love with her, and wanted, desperately, to be able to hold her, touch her, kiss her, and make love to her just one more time.

"I want to spend one more day with you," he finished in a rush.

Carol shrugged. She didn't care one way or the other, though she'd prefer not. She assumed however that she wasn't allowed to say no. Pete however quickly explained her situation.

"As your training has now officially finished, camp rules say I have to ask your permission when you are off duty, and whether you say yes or no, I'm not allowed to ask you for another three months. To get you when you are on duty would be sheer luck as there are up to eight girls here, nine now with you, and a three month waiting list. When I get to the front of the queue, you may not be on duty, or you might not even be here, and I can't choose who I have. I, as does everyone else, has to take the next maiden available. For you, if you say no when you are off duty, everyone will be on your side, so I wouldn't be able to force you. If you say yes, unfortunately it doesn't count towards your initial one thousand. I would be deemed to be..." he paused " ... well ... extra curricula activity during your free time."

"I'll let you decide this time," grated Carol, "but if we do, I'll never say yes to you again. But if we don't this time, I'll toss a coin each time you ask in the future, so every time you'll get a fifty fifty chance. Guaranteed once only, right now, or a possible chance of four times a year for however long."

But Pete wanted her too much.

They made love for four hours, more strictly acurately they fucked for four hours, Carol doing her level best to bring him to his most powerful orgasms ever, letting him know just what he would be missing in the future. By sheer fluke though, and by then Carol knew it really was nothing more than chance, Pete's own rotation through the waiting list was to bring him to her twice in the next seven months. Each time she wrung him dry, taking out her hatred of him and his system on his body. He knew she hated him, and to a certain extent was relieved, as it was at least an emotion, but he loved her deeply, and had never been able to get her out of his system. They never met again.

The following day her period started, and for six days she was allowed to remain in her room, or to join the other maidens in their own private sitting room. She hardly saw another man during the entire six days.

Those first eight months were a nightmare. Although she now had a very pleasant, airy, well lit, room to practice her 'trade' in, she still slept in the single cell. Sometimes she was able to give the men something more than a mere hole to fuck, at others she was unable to feel anything, and at first just lay back and let them get on with it. This was not appreciated by anyone, and after one severe punishment beating, and three times having ten extras added to her weekly tally, she never did it again.

After a few weeks, she started making notes and compiling statistics and totals of her weeks work. She worked out that in an average week, thirty eight pricks would enter her cunt, thirty five her mouth. There would be twenty ejaculations in her mouth, seventy in her cunt, and fifteen others scattered over her body, some in her hair or on her breasts or buttocks or stomach. About one a month in her anus, and about one a week that never actually touched her body. About twice a week a condom would break, and about one man a week would refuse to use one. She would be eaten out three times, of which once would be a 'sixty-nine', and she would be called 'cunt' or 'bint' or 'whore' or 'tart', or any of a dozen other words meaning the same thing, about a hundred and thirty times a week. She would fake something like sixty orgasms a week, not bothering on about a score more occasions, and would have a genuine orgasm maybe once a month, always from oral sex.

When people asked her for 'extra curricula' sessions, at first she said no every time, but after a few months, it became apparent that while a few no's were acceptable, some yes's were virtually de-rigour. She had split her forty hours evenly over five days, eight a day, four in the morning, four after lunch, so had her weekends and evenings free. Not that she could do very much with them as discovered she wasn't allowed out of the camp except under very strict supervision, so she allowed herself to be persuaded once each weekend to give a 'free' session. It became apparent that even this wasn't enough for some, but she held to her guns, and so far as she could tell, no sanctions were ever made against her.

By the time the final official one came, she neither knew nor cared. She just wanted it to finish. She was, after all, not yet eighteen. The full one month break she had though, was very welcome, and she read though the allowed literature was very limited, and slept, keeping almost entirely to herself in her room. She'd deliberately made no friends amongst the other 'maidens', though she knew them all. She occasionally talked shop with them, but soon found that talking about anything else apart from the men was strictly taboo. One girl, a tall attractive blonde told her on the quiet that she, like Carol, and presumably all the rest, had been coerced into it, and like her were virtual prisoners. For the most part though, when she was off duty, she was quite happy to just sit on her own. Round about this time she also discovered that Ralph had not been punished for raping her the day she arrived. Instead she found out that what he did had not only been sanctioned and approved, but that he did it to every new hand maiden to break their spirit.

Towards the end of the month break, she was summoned to the leader, Mike. She was told to prepare for travelling within the week to another, much smaller commune. Two of the other girls were going with her, and for two months the three of them would be on duty in that camp. Being smaller though, she was only due for thirty five each week. She did prepare; but she prepared by planning an escape, an escape that worked perfectly, finding herself penniless and lost, wearing just her shift and boots, in the middle of New York city.

She'd managed to hide a small amount of food about her body, and water turned out not to be too difficult to get providing she wasn't too fussy about where it came from, but by the end of the third day, she was starving and desperate.

The first 'trick' came accidentally. A tall heavy set and not all that unattractive man stood and looked at her as she huddled in a door way, begging for any small change. He came across to her and calmly asked her how much.

"I'm sorry?" She asked, mishearing, and certainly misunderstanding.

"How much? For an hour?"

Carol looked at him for a moment and then the penny dropped. Her face became hard and still. "Fifty pounds."

It was the mans turn to look startled. "Pounds?"

"Oh. Dollars. Fifty dollars," she replied.

"You're British?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Nothing. Fifty dollars? you must be good."

"I am," said Carol, knowing that she was.

He looked at her for a moment longer. Despite the fact that she'd obviosly been on the streets, it was also obvious that she'd not been long on the streets, and she still looked stunning. Her hair was untidy, and starting to show dirt, and her face needed a wash, but was otherwise still very beautiful, if somewhat sad. "All right, your place."

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Consensual / NonConsensual / Reluctant / Rape / Coercion / Incest / Mother / Son /