Chapter 17: Taming Jason and the Blow-Job Academy

Rodney "Rodday" Pinkham adjusted the fur collar of his coat and stepped around the corner and onto Tabitha Adams' little strip of sidewalk real estate. Tabitha eyed him with distaste; he looked prosperous, and he was, being the new uncrowned king of prostitution in the South Central district. Tabitha had seen them come and go, but usually they came on bright and tasteless; Rodday's dress bespoke a more refined, tasteful -- and therefore more controlled and dangerous -- individual. He'd been busy in recent weeks, absorbing the 'independent' hookers, and it didn't take a genius to realize that tonight would be his first attempt to absorb HER, too... The coat and hat were tasteful, the shoes brightly shined but conservative -- and no doubt the suit beneath the coat was Brooks Brothers. Tabitha hitched at her push-up bra and straightened the seam of her hose, the garters of which peeked out from beneath her short, split skirt, rigging for the coming confrontation.

"Evenin' Tabitha," Rodday kicked off.

"Rodday." Tabitha nodded in greeting.

"The more I hear about you, the more I'm surprised that you're still working," Rodday observed.

"Well, the pension plan doesn't kick in for a coupla weeks," Tabitha snapped.

"You're pretty lucky, all around, but it's GOT to end, sometime. Why DON'T you have a pension plan? Or at least insurance?"

Tabitha eyed him. "Rodday, I have yet to see an old, retired hooker. But I seen a lot of dead ones, an' hookers with pimps seem to take that kind of retirement quicker than any other group! If I have to pay for YOUR kind of insurance, I'll stop eatin' an' stop havin' stuff, an' pretty soon, I'll be retired in the ground wit' the rest!"

"Drugs are cheaper, direct..."

"They'd HAVE to be!" Tabitha ranted, "If I have to give YOU most of my income, cheaper ain't cheap enough! I gotta boy to raise!"

"He's old enough to turn out," Rodday observed.

"Mebbe. Look, fool! I outlasted a BUNCH o' you an' yours bein' independent, an' I like it that way! You got nicer stuff on your string, you don' need an old broken down whore like me! Lemme alone and go chase somebody worthwhile!"

Rodday shrugged. "You be right, in some ways, but it's the principle of the thing. To the young stuff, you represent success. I can't have you representing 'independent' success. You understand?"

"Yeah." Shit was going downhill. Next, some enforcer would show up to kick the shit out of her, and she'd end up owing Rodday her hospital bills. A synapse spat in her brain. "Hey, lookie here, you don' think I'm TOTALLY independent, do ya?"

Rodday blinked. "Say what?"

"I got cover. I don' talk 'bout it, 'cause it might cause shit to go down over competition, but I gotta umbrella. From a big guy, wit' nationwide pull!" She eyed him archly. "You don' wanna fuck wit' THAT -- he gets pissed off, he'll SPLASH your little pond!"

"Huh!" Rodday was far from convinced. "What's his name?"

Tabitha looked at the pimp like he had two heads, both of them stupid. "I tell YOU an' one o' his people pay me a visit askin' why I rocked the boat! 'Cause YOU'D be dumb enough to stick your oar in, then, wouldn't ya?"

Rodday shook his head and turned, fingering the brim of his hat. "Well, Tabitha, I won't say it ain't been entertainin'. You oughta start a new career as a storyteller, after THAT line of shit!" Shaking his head, he stalked off.

Tabitha watched him leave with an expression of triumph. He'd be back, and she'd probably have to knuckle under for a time -- but not tonight! She was premature, though; Rodday met one of his lieutenants two blocks down. "She says she's covered by big heat. Ask around a bit. If she's lying, send in Dumbjohn." The lieutenant nodded, and Rodday got into his Lincoln.

Inez lay in her marital bed, exhausted. Her Master had returned with Lord Armand angry about something; he'd dragged her into the bedroom and ridden her brutally from behind, periodically adding to her misery by spanking her striped ass cheeks. He'd finished mere moments before Velma's call to serve dinner, and she'd had to surge up and rush out. He didn't appear at dinner -- Lord Armand dined alone, which was unusual -- but he appeared in the kitchen at one point, requiring her to bare her breasts and remain that way while she served Lord Armand's dessert. When she'd returned to her quarters after dinner, he was there again, watching television -- but he shut the thing off immediately upon her arrival, and dragged her off to bed.

This time wasn't the same, though; oh, there was the usual pounding attack, but she liked that. Master had pushed her knees to her chest and hammered away, bringing her to orgasm three times before collapsing, obviously exhausted, across her. At this point, she THOUGHT he was sleeping, while she rubbed his flanks, her legs crossed below his ass, holding his shrinking cock in place. If she was going to Hell for her trespasses, this would be a fond memory to take with her. Raoul... Raoul had never been comparable, even the first time. But THIS had been almost... domestic. What if Master followed through on his threat to have her share his bed regularly? How bad could that be?

Jason lay atop her castigating himself. Soon, SHE would own HIM! Why did the damned woman have to be so comfortable? He was slipping, losing his edge... They'd just fucked -- JUST fucked, nothing added, no pain or humiliation. The woman absorbed his every output, one way or another; there didn't seem to be any way of putting a dent in her basic placidity. In her way, she was as bad as that bitch Felicia... He'd beaten her, pissed in her, raped her, humiliated her, beaten her ass a SECOND time... Then he'd basically run out of inspiration and merely taken his pleasure with her -- and she was laying under him, purring and rubbing his back! It was like operating in a rubber room with a plastic spoon -- no way to make a dent! And in the meantime, the chubby cunt was growing her ticket to continued longevity with him, day by day, in her womb! No, whatever the outward appearance, he was NOT in control of this situation...

He rolled off her, onto his back, fighting the wrap of her legs only until she realized his intent. "Clean me up." Inez made to rise, and he grabbed a handful of her thick, black hair. "With your MOUTH, you silly cunt!" She subsided immediately and went to work, and Jason began to stiffen, again. There was no way he was going to cum again so soon, however, so he just dealt with it, "Less blowjob and more cleaning... Do you have an alarm clock in this hovel?"

"Yes, Master."

"Awaken me at five-thirty." Might as well rip off a piece before breakfast... Inez rose to set the alarm, and the post-coital urge to urinate seized Jason while he watched. "Come over here, I need to piss."

"Yes, Master."

Inez knelt up and cradled her Master's cock while he AGAIN poured urine down her, finishing the vile act with, "Okay, go wash up; I might want to use that mouth again tonight..." How she managed not to vomit wasn't clear to her. Inez spent ten minutes rinsing with mouthwash and brushing her teeth, but the ghost of the awful taste wouldn't go away... Being used as a receptacle like this was utter humiliation!

For Jason's part, the exercise had value. She hated it -- that much was abundantly clear -- so she would continue to do it until neither of them thought anything of it. Use the tools that came to hand... Jason drifted off to sleep.

Master was snoring softly when Inez came out of the bathroom. She stood there, trying to figure out what he would want her to do, and finally settled upon putting on a nightie and sliding in beside him.

Bianca, listening to the relative quiet from her bed, smiled ruefully. Mama didn't have much attention to spare for her the last couple of days... Bianca had left the Wench's penis gag demonstration soon after Mister Armand, grabbing dinner directly from Velma in the kitchen, which gave her an opportunity to watch Mama run back and forth and Mister Jason harass her. After dinner, she'd crept home and hung out in the sitting room while Mister Jason apparently wore Mama out; now she was in her bedroom trying to figure out what to do about it. It had long since come home to her that despite the beatings, abuse, and humiliation, given a choice, Mama would choose to be with Mister Jason. Bianca had a certain sentimental attachment to Papa, but Papa had always been too preoccupied with his various angers and injustices to deliver more than token support to her. And Papa's fine mix of anger and ignorance not only got him in trouble regularly, but had been applied to HER on a regular basis, too. Maybe SHE was better off with Mister Jason... In the meantime, having overheard what must have been some cataclysmic sex, she was hyped up... She slipped back out of bed, throwing on a robe, and padded out of her family's rooms to the kitchen. Velma was there, her bulk settled in a chair. "Hey, Honey how yo' doin'?"

Bianca shrugged. "Things are pretty wild right now -- and hard to get away from..."

"You miss yo' Papa?" Velma looked sympathetic.

"Well, not that much, really." Bianca hung her head, ashamed of the admission.

"Honey, Ah don' know howta say this, but yo' Papa lef' a black cloud everwhere he went. Jason might be a 'provement."

"Mama isn't sure yet." Bianca pushed a lock of her lustrous hair behind her left ear.

"Yes she is, Honey. Yo' Mama been sure fo' some time. Jason abuses da shit outta her, but he's payin' 'tention ta HER, not hisself! Some girls, it don' matter what KIND o' 'tention they get, long as they get SOME... An' Jason likes his sex, too. She ain't hurtin' fo' THAT, Ah bet..."

"THAT's for sure!" Bianca rolled her eyes. "I think Mister Jason's up to three, tonight; from what I heard a little bit ago, Mama is getting two or three for one, too!"

"Dat why yo' down here wit' an' ol' fat woman?" Velma chuckled.

"Well..." Bianca grinned. "Usually, I talk to the Wench, lately, but Mister Charles has gagged her..."

"He come through here wit' a soda bottle... New toy?"

"Yeah." Bianca blushed. "It's a... penis gag."

Velma rumbled and jiggled. "So Felicia's suckin' a rubber cock?"

"Uh huh."

"Lotta sex 'round here, fo' the likes o' you..."

"Uh huh."

"How you handlin' dat, Honey?" Velma eyed her critically.

"Well..."

"Li'l itchy?"

Bianca nodded. "Mama and Mister Jason are hot, even if he's too violent for me. I'm holding my own with him..."

Velma put her hands on the table and suddenly looked taut and dangerous. "He messin' wit' you?"

"Oh, NO!" Bianca waved it off. "Not at all! He's kind of made it clear that if I need anything, I should come to him, but I have rights that Mama doesn't have, and one of them is the right not to be messed with. He's been fine, about that..." She pondered a bit. "But he has no problem using me to embarrass Mama. Last night he bent her over a chair in front of me to see what we'd both do." She grinned at the memory. "I sat there and watched a while, refusing to act excited -- even helped Mama pull her dress off!"

Velma chuckled, jiggling. "But you WAS excited wasn't you?"

"Yeah..." Bianca dropped her eyes.

"Well, sometimes a girl got to take things in hand..." Velma eyed her sidelong.

"Yeah." Bianca agreed, then continued, "Sometimes the Wench is worse -- that marathon blowjob thing on the porch the other day..." She sighed; she hadn't really handled that well...

"Yeah, Ah heard sumpthin'. What was DAT all 'bout?"

"Wench was deep throating Mister Armand and vomited. Mister Charles had her practice with four of the yard boys..."

"Holy Jeezus! Fo'?" Velma's expression was comical.

Bianca grinned. "She went through them, twice..."

Velma shook her head, sighing. Bianca eyed her quizzically, and Velma muttered, wistfully, "Ol' fat women need luvin', too... Ah don' git much. Do a li'l sumpthin' here an' dere ta take da edge off..." She eyed Bianca. "Yo' young and purty. Boys be fallin' all over yo', Ah bet..."

"I'm TOO young -- or at least boys my age are!" Bianca complained. "They're all just... boys..."

"So, you lookin' somewhere else?" Velma eyed her sidelong. "Out t' the yard, mebbe?"

Bianca blushed, "Well..."

"Young Pete, mebbe? I got eyes. Ah dream a l'il bit, too. If Ah was fookin' mo' Ah'd be eatin' less..."

Bianca blinked. "It's so hard?"

"Ol' fat cow like me? What'm Ah goin' ta do? Hang a 'Fook Me' sign on mah door?"

"Well, you could ask Mister Armand to bring you in something -- I hear he does it for the yard boys..."

"Oh, shoah! Ah'm goin' go see da Boss an' tell him my wet spot needs workin'!" Velma rolled her eyes. "Da Boss done me once... You know dat, right? Boss ALWAYS does his womenfolk, least once. Bet he done yo' Mama..." Bianca nodded. "Problem is, it ain't 'bout fun -- it's 'bout the Boss makin' shoah ya know yo' place. Mo' like an ass whuppin' some ways..." She mused a moment. "Ah'm reachin' da point where all Ah 'member is da good parts..." Her regard sharpened. "Hey, yo' seen the yard boy's things, then? Their tools?"

"Yeah." Bianca blushed.

"You mind..."

"Ummmm, okay." Bianca gathered a breath. "Anyone in particular, first?"

"Ah dunno. Anybody, Ah guess. Take 'em in order..."

"Well, I don't have any experience, so... I saw Phillippe's first -- it seemed pretty decent; had that skin thing..."

"Fo'skin, Honey. How big was it?"

"Oh, like so, I guess." Bianca measured out a distance with her hands, about six inches. This kind of tickled her -- it was kind of like telling a girlfriend at school. "Ed went second. He didn't have a foreskin, and his cock -- that's what the Wench calls them -- was a little longer, but narrower. The head was smaller, too. He gagged the Wench pretty seriously."

"Yeah? That so? Huh..." Velma appeared to be visibly rearranging her fantasy cast of characters. "Okay, who's next?"

"Boris," Bianca replied. "His was a little shorter than Phillippe's -- not much -- but it was thick. It had a foreskin, too. Boris has big... balls, too."

"No shit? Ah didn't think you'd be seein' Boris..."

"He wasn't happy, but he got over it. I was leaning over the Wench's shoulder while holding her arms, and I did this..." Bianca wiggled her shoulders, causing her bust to shimmy. "Poor guy's eyeballs about fell out and he just poured it down the Wench's throat!" she confided, giggling.

"Wish Ah'd seen that..." Velma was wistful. "Who else? Pete?"

"Uh huh," Bianca nodded. "Pete's cock is as beautiful as the rest of him. It's longer than Ed's, and about as thick as Phillippe's, circumcised -- is that right? Circumcised? Good sized balls, too!"

Velma sighed. "Pete's outta my league, but I bet YOU could land him!" Bianca went cherry-red, and Velma continued, "Ah seen you watchin' him through da window... Dat what yer lookin' fo'?" Bianca couldn't raise her eyes. "If'n yo' huntin' DAT bunch, Ah think yo' oughta go by age; Pete first, den Phillippe an' Ed. Me, Ah probly hafta work back da other way..."

"I STILL think you ought to talk to Mister Armand..."

"Nah. Probly catch somethin'. Male hoors is all queer anyways. What Ah want fook wit' a queer fo'?" Velma chuckled. "Ya'll run along, now, Girl. Yo' done give an ol' fat woman enough fantasies fo' a while..." Bianca grinned and headed back to her room, snatching a soda from the refrigerator in the process. What Mama didn't know wouldn't hurt her...

Nate and Nora, Draper and Tenisha were sitting in Gino's Greasy Spoon, a popular hangout, having dinner. The guys were thanking God it was cheap, but otherwise, things were going well. On entry, Tenisha had announced that sitting in the two back booths was not an option; they'd attained a certain notoriety over the last few weeks as a place where wild things happened... Nonetheless, it was Friday, and still early, relatively speaking. Tenisha confided quietly to Nora while the boys paid the bill, "I can't be doin' that shit in public, but I wouldn't mind practicing a little tonight..."

"Sex?"

"Uh, yeah. The uh, oral kind..." Tenisha seemed embarrassed. "We haven't really done that..."

"Well," Nora confided, "I'm not exactly an expert..."

"Nate like it?"

"Oh, yeah. I do, too. There's a... mindset to it. If you do sixty-nine, you're distracted by your own pleasure, so you don't do as well with his, and vice-versa. So it's best kind of one-sided..."

"What about sperm? You swallow?"

"Yeah." Nora shrugged. "I like the stuff. Nate gets a kick out of me sucking it out of the rubber after we have sex, and cleaning him with my mouth..."

"Really? Wish we had somewhere to go..."

"Well, since it doesn't seem to be a problem, let's got to my house!"

"No shit? What about your Momma?"

"Mom stays out of it; she and Daddy both basically approve of Nate and they know what we're up to. She might have a concern about you two if we rub her nose in it, but otherwise she'll probably assume we're being good, just because there are four of us..."

"Okay, let's tell the guys. Isn't it funny that WE'RE the ones with a place?"

"Yeah," Nora sighed. "Poor Nate..."

"Draper's 'bout as bad. He's got a couple of older brothers who ain't role models, if you know what I mean..."

"I can imagine."

Nate and Draper ambled up, and Tenisha announced, "We're going to Nora's for a while, if you boys don't mind..."

Draper interpreted the sly look that went with the announcement as probable trouble, but he didn't see much more going on than some heavy petting. Passing a look with Nate, he shrugged, "Okay." It was better than goin' home and beatin' off, by a long shot, even if it wasn't actual sex...

Nate really didn't have much choice. His primary concern was the fact that he hadn't been deep in Nora since Wednesday. Well, shit, you can't have everything... "Sure."

The girls got up and the two couples paraded out. In the car, driving home, Nora noticed Nate's preoccupation. "What's the matter, Honey?"

"We're stayin' kinda public since you saw your Daddy..."

"Oh, THAT! Don't worry, Honey. Neither Daddy nor anyone else has dictated the end of our sex life." She reached in his lap and played with the bulge behind his fly. "I'd play with it now, but I want to live to get home. Relax, Mama fix." She leaned over and ran her lips over his neck.

"Awright." Nate shuddered. "THAT could get us killed..."

"Mom? We're home!" Nora announced herself fifteen minutes later, on arrival. "Draper and Tenisha are with us; we're going to go up to my room to watch some TV."

"Why don't you use the big one down here?" Sharon countered, coming out of the den. "I can make myself scarce, if that's what is required..." She eyed her daughter sidelong.

Nora thought furiously. "Uh, okay. Could you get us some Cokes and stuff while I run upstairs for a couple of things?" Sharon nodded and Nora bussed Nate quickly before dashing for the stairs. "One minute, guys! Settle in; I'll be right back!" Sharon figured her daughter had to pee, and Nate thought she might be after rubbers, but they were both wrong; Nora made straight for her mother's room and for what she'd mentally dubbed 'the toy box'. She remembered her original inventory of the contents, and something stuck out as topical... Yeah, there it was! 'Monster Cock Facials'! She snatched the video and crossed to her own room to shuck out of her pantyhose. With Nate, regular nylons and a garter belt were the way to go -- Daddy's maids had made THAT impression. She'd have to go out and get some... Rubbers were an afterthought; after all, she was planning on giving a blowjob... She stuck the DVD between two other cases and skipped down the stairs.

Sharon was just finishing laying out some drinks and snacks on the coffee table. "I was going to bed, and I guess I don't see any good reason not to follow through. You kids stay out of trouble and make sure everyone gets home before their parents start looking for them, okay?" Nate could probably stay out all night without problems, but she wasn't sure about the other couple, a pair of black kids. The girl -- Tenisha? -- looked fairly prosperous and well-taken-care-of...