Indenture Scene 1

New trigger tag: #AI video!

“.. for a couple of years, I had one or two at most of these pretties. Then I realised something— I was still stuck in girlfriend mode, still thinking as if I had some sort of relationship with them; like with the whole ‘Sugar Daddy’ and ‘GFE’ things— where somehow those girls, no matter how transactional the setup— still would end up whining at you if you weren’t nice enough, or dissed them in public— and made you pay a price that was not just cash to keep them sweet.”

“But then this indenture thing finally clicked with me:— I can treat these girls like sexy furniture, and that’s what they are there for.”

“So now I have about fifteen— don’t even know, honestly; you see, I can afford 100 million years of them at that rate.”

“What’s that Snodgrass? Oh! Oh, right. Well I have been a greedy boy! You heard him, right?— it’s actually twenty seven! Ha! only 50 million years of gorgeous servile young pussy! I’m doomed!”

“They throw themselves at me, you see, the little darlings, and of course I demand a road-test for free, after a thorough and degrading medical. If they get through that, and give me a stellar come-off inside them, they progress to the next stage. I don’t make it easy for them; I have really worked at the tantric stuff, you know— bought a girl who was a trainer (she was incredible and I sold her on at a significant profit, too, even though I messed her up quite badly)And then of course, I beat them down on price— no idea how to haggle of course, the silly cunts, and somehow they seem to have the impression that being owned by me is some sort of status thing for them.”

“Anyway, that’s how come there’s a pretty just waiting on this plane, even though we only decided on the spur of the moment to get one of those incredible Amarillo burritos.”

“Oh, be my guest! Smack her about if you like— but hurry up if you wanna do her— wheels down in twenty!”

The girl was almost embarrassingly keen to please, eager to be fucked, at the same time as she was clearly terribly shy and cute about being so obviously needy, about letting herself simply be turned round in her seat, one knee up, my hand rough between her legs, yanking her into position, her hands up high, demonstrating her submission, elbows clamped to the headrest, quickly panting with what was clearly genuine arousal, her hips working for me, not stopping when I slapped her arse, hard, going at it fast and hard until she cried out, brokenly, but did not speak, did not protest or beg for mercy, but held her position, even moved her hips, clearly hoping to convince me that I wanted to fuck her more than I wanted to hurt her.

Quite quickly, indeed, she had gotten her way, and I unzipped myself, then used an old trick from college days to make sure my jeans didn’t get stained by her juices - took my pocket square and tied it round the base of my cock, like a bandana, before ramming myself into her without further niceties, grabbing her big tits and using them like handles to pull her back onto me as I railed her.

She was clearly highly trained - her hips were working with me and I could feel her pussy walls milking my cock, to incredible effect. Very quickly she was murmuring;

“Thank you, thank you, thank you for hurting me, thank you for raping me.”

She might have been saying it entirely for my benefit, but in fact it sounded as if she was saying it for herself, like a mantra of self degradation; whatever, it worked for me and I was soon bucking and jerking into her, slamming her into the seat so hard I could hear the air forced from her every stroke, in a breathy explosion, and then she was coming too (or faking it beautifully - again, I didn’t care).

As soon as I pulled out, she turned, very elegant and shy, but very willing again, slid to her knees, locked her arms behind her back and offered her sweet mouth to me, without presuming to touch me at all, waiting until I put my hands on her head, when she softly, gently went down on my still jerking cock, smoothly taking it all the way down, slow but unhesitating, even as I felt her throat convulsing around me.

For a couple of years it had been the fashion to surgically or electrically destroy or suppress indentured girl’s gag reflexes (there were different techniques), but more recently it had been understood that strict training which enabled a girl to retain the reflex, but be able to live with it, and indeed use it to deliver pleasure to a cock lodged deep in her windpipe led to a superior experience, and this was certainly in that league.

It was extremely stimulating, and coupled with the abject, helpless soft whimpers and whinnies of desperation that came from her, evidence of her extreme distress not in any way giving rise to resistance or attempts at pulling away, had me getting hard again - something which rarely happens these days without chemical assistance - and again I was soon jerking myself into her, entirely focused on my own pleasure, ignoring her ever more frantic writhing, holding her face to my groin as I came, when her body slumped; she had blacked out.

I had panicked for a moment, but he burst into laughter, applauding me with a few claps, as she slumped to one side, come dribbling from her mouth and nostrils.

Despite his amused and tolerant attitude, I found myself on my knees beside her, turning her head to one side, wondering what I could do, but Harbin pulled me away;

“Come up, man, zip yourself up and have a drink for christ’s sake; let me show you how to rouse them in these circumstances.”

And he hauled off and kicked her in the belly, the silver-capped toe of his pristine cowboy boot, that had never seen a horse - never mind dirt - leaving a raw red mark in her pale skin. It was brutal and shocking, but it did the trick, and she was quickly choking and jerking and snorting as she tried to clear her airways of my come, her eyes streaming with tears, mascara all over her face (and my pocket square, but not my jeans!).

As we were drinking and Harbin was talking about something completely different, having lost interest in the girl, she was pulling herself together, and I was watching how desperately she strove to be in control of herself as she did so, holding her naked self as attractively as she could, making sure I saw her breasts moving, her thighs spread wide as she arranged herself in a deeply submissive pose, eyes down, waiting to be instructed, demanding zero attention, even as slow tears gathered in the corners of her eyes and rolled down her cheeks, to splash onto her lovely (though obviously surgically enhanced) tits.

I wanted to buy her then, but told myself I’d sleep on it before mentioning it to Harbin.

And indeed, the two young redhead twins at Harbin’s Amarillo penthouse drove all thoughts of her from my mind (with chemical assistance this time, I didn’t get much sleep, either!), and the duty girl for the return flight the next day was an auburn goddess who was astonishing in other ways.

All-in-all, it was best to remain on friendly terms with old Harbin - bore and boor though he was, than to buy a girl (I could really only afford one at a time) and then feel one had to stick with her to get one’s money’s worth.