She rented one bedroom in the house of a rich older bachelor named Edward. The price was a steal. In fact, if it had not been for discovering this ridiculously low rent, she would have had to move back to the small town she grew up in and live in her parents’ house. She couldn’t bear the shame of having to admit she hadn’t been able to make ends meet in the big city, so that wasn’t an option.
Edward treated her a bit like a daughter, which was cute at first, but then not so cute. He was forever asking her to clean up the floor in her room. She was naturally messy, and she always had better things to do than laundry, so the floor was usually covered in messy clothes.
One day she came home from looking for working to find that her bedroom floor was clean – and her wardrobe was empty. All her clothes were gone.
She confronted Edward.
“Yes, I’ve taken your clothes,” he told her. “You’re irresponsible about keeping your room clean. You’re always leaving clothes on the ground. From now on, when you take your clothes off, I’m going to watch them go into the washing machine before I give you anything else to wear.”
She fumed, and yelled. She considered storming out, but she had nowhere else to go, except home to her parents (and only one outfit to wear on the way). She thought about buying new clothes – but she really couldn’t afford to.
In the end, she blushingly stripped for Edward in the laundry, trying to pretend he wasn’t staring at her tits and cunt, and that his cock wasn’t hardening inside his pants. She put her clothes in the washing machine, and started the cycle.
“Good girl,” he told her. And he went and fetched her a new outfit, which she quickly wore.
Over time, Edward began to control her outfits in this way. She noticed that her more concealing clothes never seemed to get given to her. In addition, Edward bought her new clothes. In the evenings he would give her pink-and-white pyjamas that she had certainly never owned before. They made her look like an infant, and he made her say, “Thank you, daddy,” before he would hand them over. When she went out at night, he would give her skimpier clubbing dresses than she had ever worn in the past, usually with no panties. She asked about the panties once, and he said, “If you don’t want to be a slut, don’t go nightclubbing. I know what you girls do there.” (She went nightclubbing anyway, without panties, as an act of defiance.)
If she was just hanging around the house, he would give her even less – a skirt, and nothing else, or a bra and panties but nothing else, or a loose shirt and nothing else. She blushed at these, but took them, having no options, and wandered about with her tits or cunt on display for her landlord.
He started asking her what she did for a job. She avoided these questions, because she wasn’t working at all, and couldn’t seem to find a job. In the end he decided she must be a prostitute, because of how embarrassed she was about talking about it. That was embarrassing enough, until he started inspecting her for signs of being fucked.
It started after she had undressed in the laundry one day. “Spread your pussy,” he told her.
“What? No!” she said.
“I don’t think you are making enough money. I don’t think you will be able to afford rent,” he said. “Spread your pussy and let me see how you have been fucked.”
“Because you think I’m a prostitute?” she said. “I’m not. And anyway, what are you looking for?”
“I’m looking for cum in your pussy,” he said. “I think you are too much of a slut to use condoms. Let me see.”
He wouldn’t let her go, so in the end she spread her pussy open, and let him poke and prod and peer at it. It was humiliating. And of course, he found no cum.
“You’re not a very good prostitute,” he told her. “Wait here.” He went to wherever he kept her clothes, and came back with a skimpy black bikini and a thick pink vibrator.
“The vibrator goes in your pussy. Then turn it on, and put on the bikini. These are your clothes for the day. It will help motivate you.”
She tried to avoid complying for a full 15 minutes, before, realising she really had no other options, she worked the thick phallus up into her fuckhole as he watched, and turned it on. She almost moaned at the sudden sensations in her pussy, but was able to pull the bikini on as well. The base of the vibrator pushed lewdly against the bikini fabric – there was no mistaking she had a dildo stuffed in her cunt, even if the buzz didn’t give it away.
He had friends over that night for cards, and asked her to serve dinner – an occasional requirement of her tenancy. She begged not to, but he threatened to evict her, and she knew she would have to play waitress. By the time the guests arrived, her pussy was sopping wet from the constant stimulation, and she was wanting to die from embarrassment at the looks they gave her. They all could see she had a vibrator plugging her rape-tunnel. Her rock-hard nipples were clearly poking through the bikini top. She was flushed, and smelled like sex. While serving dessert at the end of the night, she accidentally bumped her groin against the corner of the table, driving the vibrator deeper inside her, and she orgasmed loudly on the spot, squirting into the bikini bottoms with such force and volume that her clear female ejaculate penetrated and left a wet spot on the table.
She ended up bent over the table, hands supporting her, tits hanging down, breathing heavily. It was in this position that she heard Edward say, “She is a prostitute, you know. You can have her, for money.”
“How much?” said one of the men.
“If you both want to enjoy her tonight, $1,000 total,” said Edward. Talia was not looking up – she wasn’t thinking about what this conversation meant, still too focused on the feelings in her cunt – but at the sound of money changing hands she suddenly realised what was about to happen.
“No!” she protested, trying to stand upright again.
“She protests, because she is embarrassed to be a prostitute here, before me,” said Edward. “But I think she also specialises in the kind of work where she pretends not to consent. It makes it hotter. Don’t worry, if she didn’t want it, she would leave the house.”
Talia knew instinctively that if she left the house, the locks would be changed on her room when she came back. Trembling, she let one man pull off her bikini top and bare her breasts, before opening her mouth to take his cock. The other man pulled down her bikini briefs. Seeing her pussy stuffed, he spat on her asshole, and a moment later she squealed around her mouthful of cock as she felt his cock violate her ass.
“I’m helping you, Talia,” said Edward. “Now you can pay the rent. And each day when you come home without cum in your pussy, I’ll fuck you myself – at a discount, of course – and then we’ll give your pussy a whipping with a belt to encourage you to do better next time.”
She moaned, her mouth full of dick.
“Take your cock out of her for a moment,” said Edward. “I need to hear her say thank you. And there’s a special way she knows how to say it.”
The cock withdrew. She thought for a moment, and then knew what he wanted to hear. And as she said it, she felt herself orgasm again.
“Thank you, daddy…”
And then the john stuffed his cock back into her mouth, just in time to fill her mouth with cum.
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