Princess Diaries (09): Bell Graduation free porn video

The Saturday morning, just six days before my action, I awoke to the feeling of someone sitting on the bed next to me. I waited with closed eyes to be shaken, and then used, however they wanted me, but they remained seated, disturbing me no further.

“I guess one of you finally discovered I’m not locking my door,” I said without opening my eyes.

“Not really,” a female voice replied. I opened and turned a bleary eye to see Nicolette, beautiful as ever, looking down at me. How could she look that put together so early in the morning?

“What time is it?” I asked.

“Time to train Alanna,” she said.

She dragged my sleepy ass to the bathroom where we cleaned it. Enema's feel as weird as you would expect. By now, it was a familiar feeling. After I got out of the shower, Nicolette handed my black box to me. 

“‘Eeny-meeny’, ‘Miny’, or ‘Moe’?” I asked, pointing at my plugs, smallest to largest.

Nicolette laughed spontaneously. “Moe, definitely Moe.”

“What names do you use?” I asked. 

Nicolette smirked, then roller her eyes. Caught. “Huey, Dewey, and Louie.”

Nicolette was a stern woman, but caring and funny, too. I was coming to like her, maybe I even trusted her. Certainly I trusted her knowledge about my new career, after all the woman was a high class whore herself.

She began instructing me on how to get ready as if for work. Hair, makeup, lingerie, dress, and shoe selection were all her decisions. While I put all that on, she quizzed me, interview style, about different situations.

What would I wear to a bachelor party? What outfit would be best for a girlfriend experience? What kind of makeup would I put on for it? Which dress would be appropriate for a couple of lesbians who wanted a three-some. 

How should I know? I wondered.

I made shit up. Nicolette got more and more frustrated with me until I pushed back with my own questions. What was the setting? What the fuck is a ‘girlfriend experience’?  How big a bachelor party and what did they expect? 

Nicolette simmered down and offered several answers to each question. She wanted me asking questions more than answering them. Each new job, at least the off sites, would present a challenge until I understood the clients and what they wanted.

Ten men would be at a hotel bachelor party expecting a strip show, but the best man wanted me to ‘seduce’ the bachelor with a private lap dance in his room. Or fifteen men were attending and wanted to bang a whore before seeing their friend shackled down to one woman. Or, they just wanted a naked girl to deal cards, maybe more later.

Another client wanted the girl next door kind of girlfriend, and I’d be attending a high school reunion. The lesbians wanted a quiet dinner at home, or they wanted to ‘pick me up’ at a release party for a documentary about Ebola.

“Ebola? Seriously!” 

“Describe this outfit to me like I’m on the phone and can’t see it. Why would you pick this to wear?” she asked, ignoring my plaguing question.

“I’m wearing a waspy A-line dress, narrow waisted, solid black, conservative with a hemline just above the knee and just a hint of cleavage up top. Nevertheless, the tight top makes my chest appear huge, or… huger” I said. “The lingerie matches the color and style of the dress and it’ll look good with the dress off. Duh. The sheer black nylons have a seam down the back, which looks classy and slutty, too. But I love how they leave the tops of my thighs open to the air under the dress. Sexy!”  

“You missed hair, makeup, and the choker. Why the choker?”

“I don’t know. It seems like something a slut would wear, like a reminder?” I said. “Also, this dress feels a bit fifties, maybe the choker updates it.”

“And the shoes?”

“You went with these platform sandals,” I pointed. “The thick straps around the ankles match my choker, sort of like, bookended with them. The crushed maroon velvet adds color.”

I looked at Nicolette for confirmation, “Did I do it right?”

“I chose the shoes and choker because the ankle straps and band around your neck remind me of slave collars.”

“Gulp,” I said.

“Some clients want a submissive woman and constant reminder of that submission. Some actually want the girl in chains, or cuffs.”

“Double gulp,” I said. I pulled on the choker. “So… you’re training me to be submissive?”

“God no. Well, not today. And certainly not if you’re not inclined to it. Submission requires honest commitment, as well as acting. I just like the look. I dressed you for me.”

“For you?”

“You’re working for me today, pro-bono.”

I nodded, distracted by several threads of thought and one overriding feeling.

“You have questions,” she said.

“Yeah, Should I be this turned on by the butt plug? Because, fuck!”

“I am,” she laughed. She laughed as I realized what she meant. She wore one too. Answering my unasked questions, she added, “‘Louie’, if you must know. Kind of a requirement for today,” 

What did that mean? I wondered.

“Ready to go?”

I was. As we headed down for the car, I asked, “How much do I charge the fifteen guys wanting to bang a whore?”

And can I handle fifteen as easy as I do four? I added silently.

“Hmm. I started at a hundred per man per hour. The client wanted me bareback, so I tripled that. We settled on four hundred and fifty per person for the night.”

“You… work?” I asked.

“Occasionally I do, for something special.” 

“Special? Like lots of money?”

“Lot’s of guys. I like it. Few girls want to do that. Or can. My mistake was forgetting about Viagra,” she said. “I expected to wear them out in an hour… they fucked me senseless.”

“Did it hurt?” I asked. My little gangbangs with the security guys took less than fifteen minutes, usually. Fifteen guys for even an hour...

“I was sore the next day, and several after,” she said. She rubbed her crossed her arms and shivered, obviously remembering it fondly. “Charging more would have made it better.”

She drove me to Alanna’s apartment. I had to work the locks and keys, so she knew I could do it and that the new keys worked. Nicolette showed me around the apartment. It was a modern loft with furniture to match, a sleek open kitchen, a bathroom, and a bedroom containing a bed, two chairs, a night stand, and a reclined naked man.

“Ah!” I screamed.

“Meet Oz, my husband,” said Nicolette, “Oz, Alanna.”

Oz was a tall man, fit, good looking with salt and pepper hair on top and no hair down below. I would guess he had a decade on Nicolette, so late forties. From the looks of his flaccid cock he had several inches on any cock I’d seen before.

“Um, hi,” I said, trying not to blush. He waved sheepishly at me. I looked to Nicolette, “You’re married?”

“Umhm. So are many of our clients? Some pay to watch you fuck their spouses. Some will join in. But Oz is here for practical reasons, namely his gift for training recruits,” explained Nicolette. “Take off your dress, we don’t want to stain it.”

I reached behind for the zipper.

“Stop!” she said. I jumped. “Never waste a chance to entertain or titillate.”

She took a seat in a chair, crossing her arms sternly, waiting for me. Did she want me to do a striptease? I couldn’t think of how to do that, especially without music, so I did the second thing that came to mind.

“Oz,” I said softly, turning my back to the man. “I can’t reach my zipper, could you help me, please?”

“Submissive and needy. Good,” she whispered. Oz stood to fiddle with my zipper. A shiver ran down my back at his delicate touch. He unzipped the dress down past my sacral dimples. 

“Thank you, dear,” I said, looking over my shoulder. I pulled the sleeveless dress over my shoulders, exposing my back and bra strap. Remembering Nicolette’s instruction, I pushed the dress down with a slow exaggerated wiggle to get it over my hips and then bent unnecessarily in half, pushing the dress down my long legs to my ankles. I stepped aside, out of the dress and slowly picked it up. There was an empty chair on the opposite side of the bed from the one Nicolette sat  in. I put the dress on it, carefully.

“Wow, is that for me?” I asked. Oz, who’d watched me stip closely, now sported a rock hard cock. I tried not to show fear at such a thick, long thing. I cursed under my breath. “Jesus!”

“You’re looking at one big reason I married Oz,” Nicolette laughed, “Now lose the panties, Alanna.”

I nearly shed them myself, but remembered Nicolette’s admonishment.

“Oh, look,” I said, coyly. “I can’t get my panties off. My garters are in the way, could you be a dear, Oz?”

Oz grinned as he kneeled down in front of me. His delicious touch on my thighs raised goosebumps on my flesh. He turned me around to get the back two straps unhooked. 

“Wait,,” commanded Nicolette, interrupting him before he could get the back clasps. “Alanna, you’re standing there with all the poise of a lamp post. Turn back around and face Oz.”

I did as she asked, my panty clad pussy just inches from his smiling face.

“Oz is going to twist your hips around again, but this time I want you to make the best of it. I want to you end up with your feet apart and your back arched so it pushes your ass and pristine pussy in his face.”

Oz put a hand on either hip, pushing on one and pulling on the other to begin my twist just like before. I completed it, of course, but this time stepped away a bit with one foot so my legs were spread about a foot and a half apart. I arched my back, like she asked. It felt stupid and fake, so I twisted to look over my shoulder, down at Oz. Much more natural. His eyes were focused forward, looking at my ass. 

“Oz?” I said.

He smiled up at me and unclasped me using only one hand. I didn’t need to be told what to do next. With the straps undone, my panties could come down.

“Thank you, Oz,” I said. I hooked a finger on either side of my g-string and began working them down. I did it slowly and wiggled my ass, with my back still arched and ass pushing back as much as possible. I had to put my legs closer together to get my panties down below mid thigh. Instead of letting them fall down my legs, I pushed them down as I had my dress. I stepped out one leg at a time, so I ended up completely bent over with my legs two feet apart. I looked around me left leg and smiled at Oz.

“Nice butt plug,” he said.

“Thank you,” I said. Nicolette hadn’t intervened so I improvised. Still bent over, I reached around and pulled on the end of it just enough to feel myself clenching it. I wiggled it a bit. “Oo, it feels so good in there. If I pull it out, do you think you can find something to replace it?”

“Good work, Alanna,” snorted Nicolette. She clapped slowly. “Well done. I’d love to see how you react to having Oz’s pole shoved up your narrow ass, but lets see how you manage it with the other end.”  

“What do you mean?”

“Swallow his cock,” she clarified. I blushed, embarrassed I didn’t get her meaning right away. But… swallow that?. 

My turn to kneel, a familiar position by now. I’d sucked a lot of cock over the last week, but none this size. I grasped his shaft in both hands, leaving three or four inches of the tip visible. I sucked, licked, and generally enjoyed myself on the end of his cock.

“Okay, enough,” interrupted Nicolette. Nicolette stood next to me now, complete nude. I saw her dress on the chair behind her. She kneeled down beside me and took over. “Watch.”

Nicolette loved having a cock to play with, acting like sucking Oz’s cock was the culmination of a life long dream. Maybe it was an act or maybe she really was a slut for his cock.

Nicolette cooed and moaned over the cock. She sucked just the tip into her mouth so her lips looked puffed out while she gazed up at her husband with adoration. I could see by his smile, he loved it. Still making eye contact with him, she took him deeper and started bobbing slowly up and down on the end. She closed her eyes and exhaled deeply through her nose then pulled back so just the tip was in her mouth and reopened her eyes, looking right up at him.

“I love your cock,” she said, before putting it back in her mouth. She went on like that for a minute or two as I watched. I couldn’t believe Oz wasn’t spewing down her throat. 

Abruptly she stopped and turned to me, all business like.

“Think you can do that?” she asked. I shrugged. “There is more to it than attitude, give me your hand.”

I did, hesitantly. She gently twisted my hand down so my thumb pointed at her face. She put her mouth around it and sucked. It wasn’t hard suction, barely any at all. But what an amazing feeling! Then she moved her tongue in and out, rubbing the pads of my thumb.

“Oh,” I said. She popped my thumb out of her mouth.

“Blowjobs aren’t really sucking or blowing, but something entirely different. Your tongue can do amazing work, especially with a cock in your throat. Technique matters, but it isn’t everything. Our clients pay to have their egos stroked as well as their cocks. Even if you don’t feel it, make sure your client knows you were put on this earth to have her husband’s cock in your mouth.”

I nodded, awed by her.

“Okay, now you try,” she said. 

I took over and tried to do what she did. I used half the suction I did before which allowed me to move my tongue deliberately up and down the underside of his shaft. I made a point of looking up into his eyes and smiling with my eyes if I couldn’t with my mouth.

“Okay, great,” she said. “Now hold the shaft at the base with one hand pull back so he’s out of your mouth, put your tongue out and rub the underside of his cock back and forth across it. Great. Now move your tongue forward and backward, pressing up.”

Oz groaned. 

“Cup his balls gently, scratch them with your nails, again, gently,” she said. I got another groan out of Oz. She didn’t say any more so I kept at it. Oz seemed to love just having the tip of his cock stimulated, but I was tiring. I took the tip out of my mouth and moaned from relief. I wondered if my tongue would be sore in the morning. 

“Great, now time to go deeper,” she said. 

Nicolette took her husband’s cock back, bobbing on the end at first, then licking the length, getting it wet. She put it back in her mouth and pushed down, taking more. I could see his shaft was slick with spit and slobber. She took him deeper until three quarters of his cock disappeared in her mouth. I could see her throat bulging.

“Wow,” I said. Oz groaned in agreement. He groaned again as she visibly swallowed with his cock in her throat. 

Nicolette pulled him out of her mouth and sucked in a lungfull of air. She smiled at me, with teary eyes and a slobbery mouth. The woman was obviously happy with herself. This was no act, Nicolette loved sucking cock. 

“Your turn,” she said, when she’d caught her breath. “I got his shaft nice and slick.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I thought the guys in security were using my throat, but now…”

“Try it, let’s see what you can do…”

I did terribly, gagging and huffing in air. Tears and spit were running down my face almost from the start. But I kept at it. Nicolette didn’t force me or discourage me, either. She just kneeled next to me and watched. For his part, Oz seem to be putting up with my inept attempts. I might have gotten a bit more than half of him in my mouth, but no more.

Nicolette got on the bed and lay+ down with her head over the edge. I knew what would happen next from my experiences in the gym at Sea Cliff. When she was ready, she tapped Oz’s thigh. He turned and put his cock in her mouth, then her throat. She had her hands busy between her legs.

I watched him fuck her throat for a minute, before getting on the bed myself. I could see his cock moving up and down her throat making gck, gck, gah sounds.

“That’s really hot,” I said. Oz winked at me. It was hot, and I wanted to be involved.

I leaned over and pulled Nicolette's hands away from her pussy. Unlike me, she kept a tiny well groomed patch of soft red fur just over her clit. I leaned further over to kiss her. Nicolette moaned, giving me all the encouragement I needed. I moved around between her legs and went down on her. 

No girl needs pointers on how to get another girl off. But I had some experience with Jinny, which helped. Nicolette showed her appreciation for my skill by pulling my head down harder and humping my face as her husband fucker her throat.

We switched positions after she came. Lying back made it easier for Oz to work his cock into my mouth and down my throat. He wasn’t nearly as rough with me as he’d been with Nicolette. As her husband gently fucked my face, Nicolette got between my legs. She pulled on my butt plug, something I didn’t think to do with her, as she licked and kissed and rubbed my pussy. I came and her husband got another inch of cock in my throat. I came again. Another inch.

“I’m ready to blow,” Oz said finally, pulling out of my mouth. Nicolette crawled over me and kissed my drooling lips.

“Come on,” she said. “Time for a treat.”

We both got off the bed and kneeled in front of him as he stroked his spit slicked cock at our faces. Nicolette put an arm around me so we were cheek to cheek. He pushed his cock into her mouth and then switched to me, bumping my lips. I smiled and opened up, taking in just the head.

“Come on my face,” said Nicolette. “This slut’s, too.”

This wasn’t tutoring anymore, I decided. Her husband was about to come all over the two of us, and clearly she wanted it as much as I wanted to be good at it. Remembering her words about entertaining and client ego’s, I looked up into his eyes and added, “Please?”

Oz switched between our mouths two or three more times before throwing his head back. He pulled his cock out of my mouth and aimed it at my nose. Out of habit I closed my eyes, waiting for the spray.

I jerked as his first shot hit me square on my left eyelid, then on my forehead, another landed on my other eye. He didn’t come on me again, but he was groaning so I knew Nicolette was getting her share. I opened my eyes tentatively to watch. I saw a shot come out and nail her in the nose, then another that went higher. He switched back to me for the last one, then put his cock in my mouth.

“Mm,” I said, sucking come off his head. “Thank you.”

I didn’t really feel gratitude but I think Oz liked hearing it. I was amazed by how long he lasted and how much he blasted. I looked over at Nicolette who lay relaxed, in a dazed state, against the bed. Her face was absolutely covered in thick ropes of come.

“You covered her,” I said. 

“You too,” he smirked. His shoved his cock back in my mouth, so I couldn’t reply.

“Keep him hard,” said Nicolette. “I want to see him fuck your tight ass.”

“So…” I said, pulling him out of my mouth for a second, “this isn’t training anymore?”

Nicolette smirked, “Extra credit. You passed the course when you put your head between my legs.”

I put Oz back in my mouth and really just enjoyed the feeling of his soft cock getting harder against my tongue. I made a point to look like I was enjoying it as much as I actually was. When he stiffened enough, I moved it around on my face, smearing his cum all over me. 

“She’s like you, honey,” he laughed.

“Yeah?” I asked, rubbing my face against the underside of his cock, like an affectionate cat. 

“A cum slut,” answered Nicolette. “You’ll do fine in this business.”

“If all my clients have cocks like this...” I said, putting his cock back in my mouth and looking up at her husband. He groaned and I felt a thrill of power. I was being as slutty as I could image being. I stroked his ego and his cock, too, his enjoyment plain to me.

“They don’t,” she said. “That’s a rare cock. Now, get up on the bed with your knees just at the edge. I want to see you with a cock in your ass.”

I let go of his cock with a look of regret and got onto the bed on all fours.

“No, no. You look like a constipated dog,” she said. A giggle burst out of me and I blushed, embarrassed. “Arch the back don’t hunch it. Push your stomach to the ground and your ass and shoulder blades as high as you can. Present!”

I did as she asked, feeling half ridiculous until I realized what it did for me. It pushed my pussy and ass up so Oz could see both. I almost came at the thought that he might miss my ass and fuck my hollow, jealous pussy with that slab of cock between his legs.

“Fuck me, Oz,” I said. “Please, now. Fuck my pussy.”

He laughed. Nicolette, tisked at me as she got up on the bed next to me. She grabbed my head and pushed it down roughly, so I collapsed on my cum smeared face with my ass high in the air. There was a tugging at the plug in my ass. She teased me like that for a bit, before pulling it out.

“Uh,” I said.

Oz used lube before sticking that monster in my dilated ass and it still hurt. He fucked me slowly until I adjusted. Nicolette pulled me back up onto my hands so she could crawl under me. Oz was fucking my ass now, in long strokes and I could feel Nicolette licking and biting my thighs. Since her pussy was right in front of my face, I did what came naturally. I munched her red tufted carpet.

We were just three people moaning and sucking each other. Oz pulled out of my ass, and put it in classy Nicolette’s mouth. He fucked her throat for a bit and then put his cock back in my ass. Nicolette put her mouth back on my clit. 

“Oh, I’m coming,” I yelled. Nicolette was bucking her pelvis against my face and moaning into my pussy, coming with me.

Oz pulled out of me and slapped my ass, “Switch.”

I rolled over onto my back then flipped around while Nicolette crawled over me, wearing a happy grin and her husband’s cum. I got to work her plug out, then she ate me while he fucked her in the ass and I watched from below. Before I could figure out how to lick Nicolette’s pussy without getting hit by Oz’s balls, he pulled out of her ass and bumped his cock against my lips. I opened to taste her ass and his cock. He let me clean him up thoroughly before pulling out and pushing into her pussy.

“Ah, yeah, baby,” she cried.

“You lucky fucking bitch,” I said. I couldn’t believe how much I wanted a cock, his cock, in my pussy. I bit her clit (lightly!) in frustration. “I want that!”

Nicolette laughed and pushed her wet thumb up my ass instead. She was coming on her husbands cock and I wanted to cry from my own need. We fucked like that for a I don’t know how long. I loved it, but they wouldn’t let me have a cock where I most wanted it.

After taking another smaller load on our faces, Nicolette and I took a shower together. I’m sad to say, there was no hanky panky in there. After the shower, I reinserted Moe.

“How does that feel?” she asked.

“Um, full and… distracting. Not as good as your husband’s long cock,” I said. She smiled and kissed me then let me watch as she inserted her own buttplug.

Nicolette and I got made up and dressed while Oz replaced the bed sheets and made the bed. Girls had to clean up after an assignment in this apartment, I learned. 

Alanna’s watch read 11:21 when my stomach grumbled loudly.

“Looks like time for lunch,” said Nicolette. “I made reservations.”

Oz drove north to the Embarcadero. Occasionally I would see Nicolette close her eyes and open her mouth in a silent moan. The plug did more than distract to both of us, after our session of sex. Sitting on it excited me more than ever. Some bumps were special experiences. 

She had reservations at the Slanted Door for three at half past noon, so we took seats, gingerly, in the lounge area off the bar. A waitress placed bar menu’s in our hands almost instantly. She was cute, with short brown hair, wearing black slacks and a black polo shirt. I could see a Japanese style carp tattoo swimming down her arm.

By the way she interacted with me, I could see she preferred girls. I’d just spent the afternoon between a woman’s legs getting fucked by her husband. Was I gay, too?

“I guess I’m a little gay,” I said, as she walked away.

Nicolette chuckled, “Does that bother you?”

“Not really,” I said. But I wondered if it wasn’t plain hedonism. I imagined for the first time, kissing Cindy or Jasmine or even Ariel. Mmmm...

“I feel a bit out of place in this cocktail dress,” I said, switching the subject, trying to focus on something other than making out with my friends. Moe worked it’s magic on my ass, making it hard not to think of sex.

“Sweetheart, this is San Francisco,” said Oz, “if you’re not out of place, you don’t belong. Revel in it.”

“Says the guy in jeans and a T,” Nicolette laughed at her husband. “Meanwhile we look like we’re going to a wedding, desperate to pick up some available bachelor.”

Looking around, I noticed all types: slobs, normal people, obvious tourists, and even one or two girls as made up as Nicolette. I sighed, “at least I don’t look like a tourist.”

“Hmm,” Nicolette said. She waved her menu at me, “see anything tasty?”

“Uh..” The menu was all drinks, “there’s a nice water.”

“Alanna,” she said, pointedly not calling me Bell. “Surely you can do better than water.”

I remembered Alanna was twenty one. The menu had only one drink I recognized, “How about a piña colada?”

Nicolette said nothing, but I could see disapproval in her face. Training wasn’t over after all.

“Um, Moscow mule?” I asked. It didn’t sound bad. There was an imperceptible shake to her head. Not that either. So I asked, “What are you having?”

“The whisky cocktail,” she said. The corners of her lips rose a fraction. I read the ingredients.

“Whisky… Orange peel? What’s ‘bitter’s?” I asked. “Sounds awful.”

“Find out,” was all she said. I saw her suppress a shiver when she rocked her pelvis back and forth, working her butt plug. 

The waitress arrived and I order a whisky cocktail. I tried to act cool when she carded me and breathed a sigh of relief when she moved on to ask Nicolette for her order. The ginger bitch ordered a gin fizz tropical.

“You lying skank,” I leaned forward to whisper to her. “‘Gin fizz’ sounds delicious and it doesn’t have anything bitter in it.”

I had to suppress my own moan when I leaned back away from Nicolette. The plug was getting more than distracting.

“Working off-site means drinking. Almost always. Our clients pay us to be social and pleasant not puke in the bushes. So you order something adult and hard to chug. You sip that all night.”

That seemed to be the end of my training for the day. We ate a nice meal which Nicolette and I wolfed down like animals. Enema’s and sport sex make for hungry girls. I kept the horrible drink at arms length. 

We were both nearly beside ourselves with desire by the time Oz dropped me off at Cliff House. From the look on Nicolette’s face, I got the feeling she might jump her husband on the road back to wherever they lived. I wasn’t any better off. Hornier than than a goat, really. But I decided to be a good little schoolgirl and do my homework... wearing nylons and the butt plug, of course. I studied for a Trig test until just before shift change when I went downstairs and nearly raped the four unsuspecting security guards. 

I started as usual, by kneeling on a mat alternating cocks in my mouth. Because of my time spent with Nicolette and Oz, I could take their cocks deeper and please them more easily using my tongue, lips, and even my words. I didn’t pretend to hate it when the first guy unloaded on my face. The fourth guy painted my face with his come just a few minutes after the first. I tried not to act too pleased with myself as I reclined on the bench and waited for someone to stick a cock in me. 

I had to suck the first flaccid cock hard before anyone could use my ass. Soon enough I had a cock in my throat another in my ass and a my own fingers on my clit. The boys didn’t give a damn if I had a good time for not, and that was okay with me. After more than a week of constant practice, I could concentrate enough to please myself as well as both cocks. The second round lasted longer than the blowjobs, but when one guy pulled out to come on my chest, it trigger the others. 

The guy in my mouth spewed down my throat, nearly choking me. While I was swallowing cum, number three pushed his cock up my ass. He lasted maybe four strokes before coming deep in my bowels with hard thrusts which I encouraged by squeezing his cock and moaning and gurgling like a whore. Number four replaced the guy who’d tried to drown me. I gave him the best blowjob I could in that position. He spewed all over my face. They thanked me, and left. Once again I lay alone on the bench looking at myself in the mirror and coming by my own hand. I wanted a cock in me, but I would have to wait.

--

By my new standards, Sunday morning was uneventful. Jinny made me breakfast, if you know what I mean. Still sticky from that, I decided I may as well go down and see what the security team was up to. Darren and Bill were back, they gave me high marks on my improved oral skills, mostly on my face and hair.

After a shower, I studied for a history test alone in the library. Curly walked in the around noon. 

“Ready to go home?” he ask. 

The bottom fell out of my stomach. I didn’t want to go home or deal with my dad. I’d become comfortable with life at Sea Cliff, as strange as that might seem. “Not really. Can’t I just stay here until the auction?”

“And then what? You have a separate life from all of this,” he said, stoic as ever. “Don’t worry about home.”

Curly had a point. My plan was to make it out of debt as soon as possible, not lie around like a pampered harem girl, as much as I enjoyed it. Whoring was a means to an end where the end was a normal life, college, and control. However, I was worried about confronting Harold, no amount of assurance from Curly would help that. Nevertheless, I packed and we left immediately.

The house looked different somehow, as I we walked up to it in the dusk of evening. The porch light was brighter, I noticed.

“Here,” he said, handing me a set of keys, “we changed the locks.”

The locks were the smallest change.

“What th...” I said. I thought we had been robbed for a second. Furniture, rugs, pictures, everything had all vanished, but robbers wouldn’t have cleaned the place or replaced the old curtains with elegant louvered shades. There was a smell of fresh paint and the floors were freshly waxed and dust free.

“What happened?” I turned to Curly in wonder.

“Home makeover,” he replied. The man could be insufferably laconic.

“Where is Harold? Where is all the furniture, the pictures? What happened?”

“The stuff is in storage, if you want it,” he said. Then he smiled, “Not Harold though, he’s living in the basement now. I’ll get the rest of your gear; why don’t you look around and see what’s been done?”

“Come with me,” I pleaded. I couldn’t deal with running into Harold alone. I needn’t have worried, I found out, soon enough.

But Curly led me on a second house tour, this time of my own home. Literally everything not bolted down was gone. Every surface cleaned, painted, or waxed. New euro-style cabinets, mat black counter tops, and stainless steel appliances updated the kitchen. It looked expensive. The change to the basement door stood out the most for me, though. A small french style closet door covered the entryway down stairs. I opened it to find a stacked front loading washer and dryer set instead of stairs down into the basement in-law.

“We blocked Harold off, and he doesn’t have keys. He pays you rent now. By mail,” said Curly. “You want to see upstairs?”

My old room was empty and hollow sounding. My new room, the master bedroom, contained only two items: a new bare twin mattress on a cheap metal frame, and a file box containing my personal stuff with furniture catalogs stacked on it,” he said, pointing to the magazines. “All the pictures in the house that didn’t have Harold in them are in the box.”

I hugged him, tearing up.

“Come on, I’ll help with the bags,” was all he said.

It took two trips to get them all up to the my room and one more to get the suitcases back down to the car. Curly carefully helped me unpacked my bags and even helped me put everything up in the closet. Jeans, Ts, and underwear, I put in the corner on the floor.

“Need a dresser,” he said.

“How did you know?” I asked, suddenly teary again. 

“Well, it’s obvious you need someplace to put clothes,” he quipped. I didn’t smile so he added more seriously, “You said it yourself, you wanted everything gone, so…”

“This is perfect,” I said. “Thank you, so much.”

I got up and hugged him again. He bore it with dignity. With my arms still around him, I looked up into his dark eyes. “I should tease you right now. Offer you a ‘reward,' But… If you ever need anything, just ask.”

It wouldn’t be right to tease him. Ever since that tour of Cliff House, he’d been looking after me. And now, because of him, I found myself moving into a new place instead of coming home. 

Curly put his finger under my chin, lifting up my face. He bent down and planted a fatherly kiss on my forehead. “Be good.”

--

I spent the week getting things together, figuring out how to get around w/o a chauffeur, and all that. That kind of thing may sound mundane, but it empowered me. I couldn’t stop smiling. 

I saw Harold for the first time on Thursday after school at the title company where he signed over the house to me. He seemed crumpled and ruined while I looked like a million dollars in an elegant designer dress and pumps. The notary, or whatever you call them, couldn’t take his eyes off me. I couldn’t take my eyes off the appraisal value of the property, one point three-two.

I slept like a rock that night, knowing my auction would be in just two days. I was ready.
 

(to be completed in part 10)