Chapter 4

Hector could not figure it out. She was no virgin, not by a long shot. When she got going, she was a fucking machine. The friends he had invited to help 'break her in' were all begging for return engagements. His 'brainwashing' techniques seemed to be working well until he tried to get her to turn tricks. Then, it was like a stone wall came up.

In all the girls he had broken in, he had never run into one like Gem (the name he had given Andi). Usually, they became attached, even devoted to him after a few weeks. He had only had two girls just take off on him. When he picked them, he was careful to make sure they were as unattached as possible, with no place local to flee to. If they somehow managed to get out of town, well good for them. He made sure they never had enough cash to last long on their own.

It had looked like Gem was suitably isolated from anyone close when he picked her up in the capital city and brought her back. She had broken off relations with her father. Her mother was barely functional, living with Gem's grandparents. Her roommates were about to kick her out. Her brother was away at college (he did not investigate enough to realize that her brother Matt was at the University, just a few miles from the apartment). She had certainly seemed safe. Of course, she was still much more 'connected' than the runaways and burnouts that he typically 'recruited.' There was also a lot more strength in her than he had ever suspected, at least when it got down to selling herself. Everything else, she seemed able to cope with, but not the payoff.

Gem (Andi) was Hector's first serious try at up-scaling his offerings beyond the usual curbside meat. He had visions of a high-priced out-call business some day, and she was to have been his first call girl. Trouble was, a call girl was useless if she didn't come back from the call. Gem did not seem close to being that trustworthy.

The worst thing was, he did not know what to do next, having never been in this situation before. Just letting her go was not an option, unless he was willing to relocate immediately. Why should he let some hard-assed bitch force that on him? Offing her was the cleanest solution, but it went totally against his usual risk-minimization approach. The act of killing her did not bother him, just the downside if it was ever discovered that he did it. It looked like the only choice was to keep working on her in hopes that she would eventually start to produce. He decided he would have to use more serious threats and some physical violence to get through to her what her true situation was.

Through the almost-constant drug haze, Andi was painfully aware of what her true situation was. Her mind was in a constant turmoil, trying to figure out what to do about it with her thoughts never completely clear. She knew what Hector wanted from her, and she knew she could be killed if she did not give it to him. She had almost instinctively resisted, the thought of being a whore terrifying her even through the drug haze. But her resistance was weakening as Hector's campaign eroded her will little by little.

She was a prisoner. She had not left the apartment since Hector picked her up and drove her there. It locked from the outside, and there were bars on the windows. There was no phone, of course. The food was decent and Hector had not hurt her badly, at least not so far. Her addled brain told her that would be coming soon if she did not cooperate.

The television was all she had to fill her time, and even following the soaps was hard sometimes. From TV, she had at least found out where she was. Her foggy impression of a long ride in Hector's huge SUV was real. She was in the same city where Matt was attending the state university, some six hours from home. Home. The image conjured up by that word was now nothing but a source of pain. The house, the people, the love - there was nothing left of any of it.

The thought of her brother being nearby both terrified her and gave her hope. The hope was that she could get word to Matt and he could get her away from Hector. The terror was of Matt finding out what she had become. What if she was working on the street and he saw her?

With each passing day, the drugs, Hector's control techniques, and her own growing depression and self-loathing chipped away at the remains of what was really Andi. There was a growing feeling that this was just what she deserved. She had turned her back on her father. She didn't even try to see her mother any more. For the first time, she and her beloved brother were at odds. She had let herself get addicted. She had dropped out of school. She had cheated her roommates. Her life was a total, worthless mess. Who cared if she became a hooker? She was no longer even sure if SHE cared.

Having much more time to think than she had ever wanted, Andi replayed the past two years hundreds of times. From where she was now, her Dad looked awfully good. It was hard to remember why she had been so angry with him. She knew she was a lot like her mother. In fact, that need for stimulation and excitement had helped to get her into her current mess. If she ever got free, she would make up with him, for sure. Of course, he would not want anything to do with a hooker, would he?

If only there was some way to get her parents back together again. Sure, her Mom had screwed up - big time! But his reaction was so harsh, so uncharacteristic of him. Between the guilt and the way he treated her, it was no wonder she was a nut case. She was so morose that Andi didn't want anything more to do with her than with her Dad. From a solid, happy home two years earlier to this!

And why did Matt have to abandon her and turn against her? She loved him so much it hurt. First, he went away to school, leaving her without her best friend and confidante. When she saw things souring between her Mom and Dad, she had no one to vent on. Then, he agreed with Dad after her Mom's adultery was discovered. Not that she condoned what her Mom did, but to throw everything away over one indiscretion! Well, one documented indiscretion, anyway.

Part of the reason Andi had never found a guy she could stick with was Matt. He was hard for any other guy to measure up to. She had not been on an honest-to-goodness date since just after graduation. The last guy she had even been interested in was the other Andy - 'Andy with a Y', as she had teased him when he would not answer to 'Drew.' Stubborn men, anyway!

It had been interesting how Andi and Andy had met. They were two strangers walking side by side into the Student Union for something to drink on an off hour between classes. Behind them, a girl called out 'Andi, wait!' and both of them had turned and said 'What?'

That, of course, led to a little embarrassment on his part, which led to laughter, then introductions. Because of their similar break times, they started meeting three times a week at the same time. She enjoyed Andy, not in small part because he was a lot like Matt. After several weeks, they were sharing a lot, and both looked forward to their times together.

The relationship was just getting to the point where she thought he would ask her out when he suddenly cooled off. She was pretty sure it was because she was a little high for a few of their breaks. He never said anything - he wouldn't. But it was clear he was dead set against drugs. Rigid, stubborn men, again! Couldn't he sympathize with how much she was hurting? Couldn't he understand how badly she needed some relief?

It wasn't too long before she had dropped out, anyway, and she had never seen Andy again. 'Andy with a Y', she mused with more than a little nostalgia. It was just another of those memories that now seemed a world a way. Memories she would probably never have the chance to recapture.

Visitation had been a subject of considerable discussion since the inception of the Transformations program. Depending on the particular resident's circumstances, visits by significant people were always viewed as a key part of the re-birthing process.

That the resident would remain naked for the visits had never been questioned, but that caused a major logistical problem - what were the other residents to do while one was entertaining visitors?

In Shannon's case, having her children spend the day following her schedule with her had been a tremendous bonding and healing experience. That was not practical with so many residents. It was important for visitors to get a feel for how the residents lived, so time in the main facility was important. During that time, the other residents would either have to remain in their rooms, or dress. Given the probable number of visitors, having them dress frequently would be highly disruptive to the impact of the nudity.

The idea of separate visitation quarters had been discussed, but neither Julia nor the consultants cared for that. All felt that guests should see the residents in their normal, everyday surroundings. The complex was built with a center area that was separate from each side, so some of the room there could be used for visitation if the proper situation arose.

There had to be a visitation policy of some sort when they opened for business, so Julia had laid it out, knowing full well it would most likely be changed. Visits would have to be scheduled ahead of time and would last just one hour. They would be scheduled on a first come, first served basis, and no more than two a day would be scheduled, separated by at least three hours.

The other residents would remain in their rooms during the visit, except for a greeting period. It was assumed that residents would want to introduce at least some of the others to their visitors. To that end, their friends would be allowed to join them for twenty minutes, wearing light robes provided for just that purpose.

That was just the first level of visitation privileges. One important problem had been discussed at length. When Shannon, and then Kathy were at Greg's house experiencing the initial applications of re-birthing, they were naked, while everyone else was usually clothed. That constant reminder of their status was deemed an important factor. In the group setting, there were more naked people than clothed people, and the uniqueness was lost.

The solution suggested was to allow open access to designated visitors. The problem was determining who should be allowed open access. It would not be limited to women, nor would all females automatically be granted open access.

The stated policy was that each resident could designate the people they wanted to have open access. Any other resident could appeal against specific people. The staff would have the final say on granting access, and the privilege would be tightly guarded. Julia suspected the policy would be a source of many problems, but it was the sort of societal situation the residents needed to deal with.

One requirement for open access visitors was the uniform. They would have to wear shorts and a tee in a contrasting color to the employees' garb. Bins of assorted sizes would be provided, just like for the employees. For a while, requiring all visitors to wear the uniform was discussed, but not adopted.

Because of the need to respect the residents' privacy, any visitation policy would present a hardship to families who had traveled some distance. When she described the rules to the team, Julia was distressed that they seemed arbitrary and rigid. Unfortunately, it was the best she could do to start with. She had to be true to the therapy approach. No one could have predicted some of the changes that actually occurred regarding visits.

Conjugal visits were another topic of heavy discussion, with very strong arguments for and against. Julia's starting point followed the strictest interpretation of re-birthing. Residents were purposely isolated from their normal environment in order to correct problems they could not otherwise address. Spouses were certainly part of the normal environment.

The counter argument started with the fact that the families would usually be allowed to visit residents. Why not just extend the parameters of the visit?

Another reasonable argument for conjugal visits was to minimize the temptation for inappropriate contact between residents, or between staff and residents. That one was harder to respond to. During a massage, for instance, what if a woman begged the attendant to make her come? What if she was overcome by desire and grabbed the attendant?

In fact, a great deal of the meeting time on the retreat had been spent discussing interaction with the residents. The organization's potential liability was enormous, should any type or harassment, or worse, occur. Julia reiterated how carefully she had chosen the team, and how confident she was in their restraint. Nevertheless, there was role playing, and memorization of little mnemonics that covered behavior guidelines in sexually charged situations.

In the end, conjugal visits were not allowed for two main reasons. First, not all the residents would have spouses, and differentiating some from the others by marital status was deemed non-productive. The other, very important reason, was that the causes that brought the woman to Transformations generally stressed her marriage. Allowing sexual contact with her husband while she was a resident would more likely retard progress than accelerate it.

Chelly Harden had been going with the hospital's top surgeon for a couple of months, and she thought she had it made. He used up women and threw them away, and she was well aware of that fact. She thought she was well-prepared for whatever happened - she would have her fun, and there would be no regrets when it was over.

Truth be told, Chelly needed the kind of chauvinistic treatment he heaped on her. He made it clear she was his property - at his beck and call, and available to do with as he chose.

She had always needed it. The man she had married, and who had fathered her two children, had gone beyond chauvinism to all-out abuse. Since the divorce, she had dated a string of men who took her for granted, degraded her, and in a few cases, knocked her around. To her, that was how men were with women. It was the way of things.

The degradation was a primary source of arousal for Chelly. The helplessness, the shame, and even some of the pain were key elements of foreplay for her. The more helpless and out of control she felt, the hotter she got.

Her ex and her previous dates had needed to put her down to elevate themselves. It was a fact she had realized only recently, despite her mother's having told her countless times. This surgeon was different, definitely a higher class of chauvinist. Oh, he was still domineering, and he still put her down. But the put-downs were far classier, usually just an expression or a gesture. The ego boost she provided for him was mainly from her decorative value.

Chelly really was beautiful and had a marvelous figure. That was obviously what earned her the doctor's attention. She was not really much of an exhibitionist, but he kept pushing her to more and more flagrant exposure. To please him, she had bought a new dress. It was soft, clingy, snug, and came barely to mid-thigh.

He had started the evening by insisting she remove her underwear, something she was very reluctant to do. The force of his personality, though, allowed for no hesitation. She asked if she could at least wear a thong, but he refused. Just the way he said it left no question that a refusal meant the evening was over.

She cursed herself for even buying the slutty garment. With nothing under it, she felt less dressed than she did in her favorite baby doll nightie. She was concerned at how plainly the crack of her ass showed, and how even the puff of her pubic thatch was evident. Even soft, her nipples were clearly outlined. Her breasts were so large they inevitably sagged without a bra, and even the slightest motion made them sway and jiggle. If her nipples ever hardened, they would be positively obscene.

Going out in that condition was just too much for her, and she had about decided it was time to end things with the doctor. Before she could mount an objection, though, she could feel the drops of moisture collecting on her inner thighs, and the nascent arousal quelled any misgivings.

He had regally preceded her to the car and left her to manage her own car door. That was exactly what she expected, and what he had always done. That was what all of her men had always done. Well, not quite all of them. On her three dates with Ryan Herwalt, he had always walked behind or beside her, and had always held her door open for her. Oh well, maybe Ryan had just been perving for a peek up her skirt. Besides, tonight she was riding in a big Beemer, not Ryan's pickup truck. Wasn't that worth opening her own door?

Only as they entered the restaurant did the doctor give her his arm and then pull out her chair, spending his gallantry only when it could be seen. Again, that was exactly what she expected. Of course Ryan had held her arm all the way in, after helping her from the car. The last few dates with the doctor, she had found herself making these comparisons with Ryan, and it puzzled her. Ryan was definitely not her kind of guy. He was just a nurse, and he did not excite her.

The doctor had no need to verbally belittle her or demonstrate his dominance. Their conversation was actually quite cordial and animated. It was completely about hospital subjects, though, and in particular his recent cases. Unbidden, she remembered her few dinner conversations with Ryan. Somehow, Ryan had found out a lot about her and her family in a short time. She had found a man asking those kinds of questions startling and disconcerting.

The doctor was an accomplished dancer, and she had enjoyed the other times they had danced. Tonight, it took an effort of will to get out on the floor, with her dress as extremely revealing as it was. She had the feeling that she was dancing naked. She could feel her face flush as he led her from the table, but she could also feel more moisture at her crotch. What if a wet spot stained her dress? How would she ever live that down?

While they danced, his hands reaffirmed their ownership of her body, and she pressed herself tightly to him. If her nipples looked as big as they felt to her, she wanted to hide them against his chest. When his hands began running down over her ass cheeks, she lost her rhythm for a moment. His touch made her think about what was ahead for the evening. The previous date was still fresh in her mind.

On the way home, she had leaned across the center console and stroked him until he was hard. On their first date, he had practically ordered her to do that. When he was erect, she had turned toward him as much as she could in the big bucket seat and pulled her dress up above her waist. Just as tonight, she had worn no panties, and she had spread her legs to expose her pussy as much as possible. On their first date, he had made her sit on his bathroom counter and shave her pussy lips while he watched. She could remember clearly how sensuous her bare cunt had felt against the expensive leather of the bucket seat - until the stickiness of her lubricant started to spoil it.

Because he was driving, he really did not spend any time looking at her pussy, but the humiliation value was obviously important to him. When she was properly displayed, she had unzipped him and brought his cock out into the open. It was then her task to keep him hard until they got home. She had not made him come - he was too careful a driver to take that chance.

His condo building had an elevator right out of the garage, and it opened right across the hall from his unit on the top floor. There had been no one else in the garage, as there generally was not, and he made her take off her dress as they waited for the elevator. The first time he had told her to do that, she had almost collapsed from fear and humiliation. When he threatened to take her home and never call again, she complied. That first time, she had on panties and a bra. On more recent dates, she had been in nothing but heels as they rode to the penthouse. As arousing as her forced exhibitionism was, it became something she dreaded throughout the evening.

As soon as they entered his condo, she was expected to get on her knees and give him a blow job, right there in the entryway. Her naked trip up the elevator always had her highly aroused, but the hard tiles still hurt her knees. Of course, she was expected to swallow.

She had to admit he was quite virile for a forty-something man. As soon as he had ejaculated from the blow-job, he had led her to the bedroom. Insisting that she keep the heels on, he had her get on her knees on the bed, and he stood before her. Using her mouth, she got him fully hard again. When he was ready, he had her turn so her head was over the pillows, still on her knees. He got on the bed behind her and used his hand to make certain she was ready. It never took him any extra work.

'Doggy style' was his usual preference, although twice he had taken her from behind as they lay on their sides. Once, he had rolled them over so he was atop her as she lay on her stomach. They had never done it missionary of cowgirl. In fact, she realized for the first time, they had never done it face-to-face.

He had a good-sized cock and he knew how to use it. He did not go down on her, so her only chance to come was as they fucked. It was a very good chance. The blow job ensured his endurance, and he was quite inventive with his thrusts, varying the angle and speed, and rotating. Because his treatment of her was so arousing, she had managed to climax on all of their dates. A few times, she had fingered her clit to help herself along.

On that last date, as on most of the others, she had driven to his place and left her car. She had gotten up and driven herself home after he fell asleep. This time, she would be staying all night, since she was not on duty the next day, and her mother had the kids.

She had regained her rhythm and was dancing as normally as she could with his large, strong hand spread unabashedly over her ass. As always, he seemed to be pushing things, and it felt like he was slowly working his fingers to pull her dress higher and higher. The thought that her bare ass cheeks might soon be exposed caused her to tremble in fright, but she could not make herself do anything about it

Unbidden, thoughts of her few dates with Ryan came to her mind again. They had danced twice. Once was at a country place, and she was amazed at how much she had enjoyed it. The other was a club much like the current one, only less expensive. He was not an exceptional dancer, but she could remember the way he made her feel special. They had not danced close, as she was doing now with the doctor, but she had felt like a partner, rather than a possession. It was just too bad Ryan was just a damn nurse! It was too bad he did not excite her. She had fun and felt special, but a girl couldn't get off on that!