Message-ID: <25276asstr$963569404@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: Steven Bockman X-Original-Message-ID: <8kkr9j$lf7$1@nnrp1.deja.com> X-Article-Creation-Date: Thu Jul 13 16:38:13 2000 GMT MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=iso-8859-1 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit Subject: {ASSM} Satan's Sex Slave Ch. 3 {3/6} (mast, MMf, anal, yng, nc, inc, ff) Date: Fri, 14 Jul 2000 06:10:04 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: newsman, gill-bates, dennyw, english WARNING: Explicit sexual material below; do not read if it's illegal for you to view adult content where you live. The following is a work of fiction; any similarities between actual persons and/or events is entirely coincidental. And finally, the author does not condone the acts portrayed in this story. As a work of fantasy, it may be interesting to read, but if he were to find it in a newspaper he would be sickened and appalled. ** Author's Note: Full permission is granted for this story to be distributed, as long as the text is unmodified, the above warning remains, and my e-mail address (S_Bockman@Hotmail.com) appears somewhere in the document. ** visit my site at: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/The_Lazy_Cup/www for more stories! ** Satan's Sex Slave the third tale from the lazy cup by S. Bockman Chapter Three: Daddy's Dick (Part 3/6) (masturbation, MMf, ff, anal, incest, non-consensual) It was about seven in the evening when Jodie pulled into the trailer park. She was late, but wasn't worried about it. And besides, she'd been busy in the forest again setting her new plan into motion. She kind of wished she was home right now just so she could observe the impending crisis, but she had other things to take care of. After tonight, she thought, my money problems should be over! She could make money several different ways, of course, but in the end this was the quickest way she knew how. Besides, she had plans for all the losers who visited that coffee house, and if they were to succeed she'd have to get "in" with them. What better way to do so then to be their new supplier? The trailer park was small with narrow winding roads that wove between the numerous beaten down old homes. When she was younger she'd had a friend who'd lived here at Forest Grove, and could remember asking her mom why people lived in such squalor. "For some people," she'd informed the young girl, "this is the best they can afford." Finally she found the lot she'd been looking for. The trailer home which sat on it was bigger than the other ones in the park, but it still was relatively small. It was also an older one-rust plagued its sides and two of its windows were boarded up as though the glass had long ago broken. In front of the home were three cars-one was a large gray '87 Pick-up, the second a rather surprisingly sleek looking Lincoln Continental no more than a year old, and the last was a rusted-out four-door long since stripped for any salvageable parts. She considered briefly bringing Dante inside with her, but decided against it. She could take care of herself. On the way to the trailer home's door she wondered briefly why people who dealt in drugs lived in such poverty... these obviously weren't the "top" guys, but rather a stepping stone on her way towards them. Her knock on the door was answered by a rather hefty looking man wearing a wife-beater shirt. He was balding in the front but had long oily black hair down the back. The stubble on his meaty face suggested that he hadn't shaved in a couple days, and his immediate odor suggested he hadn't showered, either. "Yeah?" he entombed, glaring at the young woman. Jodie smiled. "Hi!" she said casually. "I'm Jodie... uhm, I'm expected?" She tried to appear a little nervous, for their benefit. She didn't want them to think anything strange of her. The man looked past her suspiciously, at her car, around the park. "Okay," he finally said, stepping back to let her in. "Thanks!" She walked past the beefy man and was immediately hit by the rank odor of marijuana, tobacco smoke, and a stale smell which permeated the air. A television was blaring and she could hear voices, but she was being shuffled in too quickly to make out anything distinct. Before she knew it she was standing in the equivalent of a living room. It was small, about half the size of the one at her house, but had a nice leather couch and entertainment center. It also had a brand new computer sitting off to the side... she wondered at this. "Hey, Dirk!" the fat man bellowed, pushing past her. "This that girl you were 'specting?" A man who's back had been to her looked over his shoulder inquisitively, and his eyes went wide as soon as they saw Jodie. His arm had been around a young woman about her age when he stood, zipped his front zipper, and smiled. He wasn't wearing a shirt. "You're Jodie?" the man asked. He was probably in his late twenties or early thirties, and had sharp angular features. His eyes were small which made him seem devious, but his mouth was large and formed in a generous smile. He had short dusty-brown hair and a wispy moustache, and was medium built with well toned muscles. Overall he seemed to Jodie a rather harmless guy. "Yep," she smiled easily, brushing long strands of her red hair from her face. She looked around the room then back at him. "Nice place." He shook his head. "Not really, not really.... Just a place. Oh, you've met Paul, behind you? And this is Monica." The girl on the sofa raised her hand limply, but did not turn away from the TV. "Hi," Jodie said to Paul. She didn't say anything to Monica but turned back to Dirk. "So... can you hook me up?" "Let me show you my 'office'," he said, almost ignoring her question. She followed him into the kitchen area, separated from the main room by a low doorway with hanging beads. It was little more than a card table with two chairs pulled up to it, a sink, and a fridge. There was no stove or oven. He took a seat in one of the chairs and looked her body up and down. Of course, Jodie had never been in a situation like this, and she was unsure what the next step was. She'd been hoping Dirk would be the one to initiate talks, but all he did was stare at her young pert body and grin slyly. Unable to bare it anymore, she put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "So, what? You don't have it or something?" "Have what?" Jodie paused. Narrowing her eyes she replied, "I thought you were a drug dealer." "Take off your shirt." She was taken aback by his sudden command. All forms of modesty had seemingly left her with the onset of her new powers, but at the same time she didn't like being ordered around. So she just stared back at him. "What?" He leaned forward in his chair. "I said, take off your fucking shirt." Jodie considered for a moment walking out right then and there. Most people would have. But then again, Jodie wasn't a normal person anymore, so after staring back at him for another long minute she decided to see what would happen. A moment later she'd pulled off her tight-fitting black shirt and was standing in front of him wearing only a bra above her waist. She put her hands back on her hips and continued the staring contest. Dirk was growing hard just looking at the young teenager's lithe figure, now more revealed to him than he'd thought it'd ever be. Most of the kids who came to him looking for drugs didn't past this first test, and it was a shame... the best bodies, he thought, belonged to the young. "Alright, babe. The bra," he said. "What's this all about?" Jodie snapped. "I need to see if you're wearing a wire." She stopped. Of course! she thought. A drug dealer like this would take such precautions. Immediately her angry grimace changed back into the innocent smile that she'd been wearing when she'd entered the trailer home. She dropped the shirt out of her small hand and let it fall back to the ground. "I'm not a fucking cop," she said soothingly. He shrugged, and continued racing his eyes over her body. Then he stood, and walked around the card table to her. She stood casually, staring at him with her large doe-like eyes as he reached out, placing his hands on her shoulders. Suddenly she heard the hanging beads to the kitchen area pushed aside. Dirk looked past her and said, "She's clean." He heard a disbelieving grunt come from behind, then the voice of Paul say, "Want I should search 'er?" Dirk looked back down into Jodie's large eyes, then past her again. "Yeah, do it," he ordered. He stood back and suddenly Paul made his way in front of her. He was huge compared to the tiny teenager, but Jodie wasn't intimidated. She was actually quite amused at the way his big beefy hands reached out slowly to her body, as if afraid to touch her. Then he did. He placed his hands on her shoulders and ran them down her sides. Jodie wouldn't flinch, only kept looking past him at the increasingly interested Dirk. She felt Paul's sweaty hands collect behind her and unsnap her bra, then he was pulling it off her. She didn't resist. After dropping the garment to the floor Paul stared intently at her chest for a couple moments, as if trying to make up his mind. As if to encourage him, Jodie thrust her chest forward ever so slightly, smiling all the while. Paul took the hint. His large hands suddenly cupped her two large tits, and began massaging them rather heatedly. He wasn't gentle or trying to excite her, in fact he was squeezing the large meaty globes too tightly, but all the same Jodie was getting turned on. The fact that this man had no interest in pleasing her, but in using her, was exciting to the new witch. "Paul," Dirk suddenly snapped. The bodyguard, because that's what Jodie had realized he was, stopped his "examination" of the teen's tits. He looked over his shoulder and said gruffly, "Great tits." "Finish searching." Paul unceremoniously grabbed Jodie by the belt which held up her shorts, and undid it. Then, nearly pulling the teenager over, he unbuckled her pants and unzipped them, then pushed them down her legs. Again, Jodie didn't protest. She had to place her hands on Paul's shoulders to keep from falling, but besides this she didn't move. "Her panties," Dirk commanded. Paul looked back at him. "She ain't wearing none." "Really?" Dirk asked, impressed. He came around to Paul's right and examined the teenager, now completely naked save for her tennis shoes. Her arms still rested on Paul's shoulders, but she was smiling at him. "I guess you're clean, huh?" "I told you I wasn't a fucking cop!" Jodie smiled playfully. Dirk grinned. What a hot fucking slut, he thought. "Okay, take a seat," he said, waving her over to a chair at the card table. He watched to see if she'd dress first. She didn't. Paul watched intently as the teen strode to the chair, then sat down slowly. In his mind she was doing this on purpose, teasing him, showing off her body because she knew how hard it made him. He felt himself begin to sweat. "Okay, babe, let's begin. What is it you want?" "Just some weed," Jodie smiled. "Well, a lot actually." "How much?" "Four ounces." Dirk raised his eyebrows. "That is a lot. You got money?" "Yes," she said. "It's not on me, of course... I didn't know what kind of... people you'd be. But I have money." "How much?" "Three hundred." She heard Paul snort behind him, and saw that Dirk was grinning himself. "That might get you one ounce, hon, but not much more than that." Her smile disappeared as she considered. "Well... what about a payment plan?" He shook his head. "Why do you want so much anyway?" "I'm unemployed," she said, quite seriously. Dirk couldn't help but laugh. "You're a fucking kid! What do you need to be selling drugs for?" She leaned forward, quite aware his attention was torn between her face and her hanging breasts. "I don't want to flip burgers." He shrugged. "I didn't say you had to. But how do you plan on moving enough dope to support yourself?" She paused. "What do you mean?" "Look," he explained, "it's not that easy to make a profit from weed, okay?" "Is that why you live is this shithole?" she asked viciously. He shook his head. "I have a house in Bloomfield Hills where I live. I use this... shit-hole as a base of operations." "For drugs?" "Nope. For my other business." "Which is?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. "You saw that girl sitting out there?" She nodded. "She's one of mine, and I don't mean a daughter." Realization dawning on her, Jodie smiled. "Ah... I see! You hook her out?" "Her, and a few others. But also, I make and sell adult videos for... special customers." She was grinning. She was truly in her element. "Not exactly the stuff you'd find at a video store?" He laughed. "Nope. Anyway, moving drugs is dangerous and sometimes unprofitable, unless you're at the top of the food chain." "And you're not?" "Are you kidding? You'd probably be dead if I were. But like I was saying, you're not gonna make much money selling pot to high-school kids." She considered only briefly, then asked, "How much money do your girls make?" Dirk leaned back. This was turning out to be a rather pleasant surprise. "It depends. If they make the clients wear a condom, or not. If they let the clients cum on them, or not." He leaned forward. "If they let the clients hurt them, or not." "What range are we talking?" Jodie asked. Dirk paused a moment, then called, "Monica, get in here!" A moment later the girl who'd been sitting on the couch came into the crowded little kitchen. She had a glazed-over look to her, as if she'd been doing lots of drugs, or hadn't slept in quite awhile. Probably both. She was of Hispanic descent, and had long dark brown hair which was currently matted-looking and unwashed. Her skin was a deep shade of brown, and she was quite attractive. And also quite young, possibly younger than Jodie. "Yes?" she asked blankly. "How much money did you make last week?" Dirk asked. She looked over at Jodie, who sat naked in the chair across from Dirk, then back at him. "Six hundred, I think." "Okay, good." He turned back to Jodie. "You see, Monica here spends most of the cash she rakes in on drugs... pot, speed, acid. All that shit. She's a junkie. Despite all that, however," at this he chuckled, looking back at Monica, "she won't let guys fuck her in the ass." "Most spicks love it in the ass," Paul put in. Monica ignored them. She stood with downcast eyes, waiting to be dismissed. "Also," Dirk continued, "she doesn't like them hurting her, or fucking her without a condom." He looked at her again. "She'd make more if she did." "How much more?" Jodie asked. "Twice as much, at least." Jodie looked back at Monica. She was definitely attractive, but her body wasn't as well developed as her own. She knew she could make more than her. "Does she make movies?" "Not yet, not yet..." Dirk shook his head. "But she's going to soon. She owes me... well, let's just say she owes me a lot of fucking money." Monica was taking a drag from a joint she'd brought in with her, but wouldn't meet Jodie's gaze. "Alright," she said, not taking her eyes off the girl, "but I'd still want to sell drugs, too." Dirk could hardly suppress his laugh. What good fortune! he thought. "Of course, sure," he said. "I'd give you whatever you want on credit." "So when could I begin?" Jodie asked. Monica began coughing. Dirk leaned back in his chair. "Hmm... well, I have to get you a pager. You see, my clients generally want someone on short notice. When I page you, it'll be with a room number and a time... we use the Tireless Motel on US 12 just past the strip clubs." "And all I do is show up and fuck?" she asked. "Exactly." "When can you get me a pager?" "I could give you one right now," Dirk mused, "but first I'd have to... playtest the merchandise?" Jodie smiled knowingly. "I wouldn't be a good business man if I didn't know what I was selling, would I?" Dirk asked rhetorically. Jodie stood from her chair. She'd been growing wet ever since Monica had entered the room and the smell of marijuana began wafting through the air. Three sets of eyes on her body in this shitty little mobile home, making a deal to prostitute herself for big cash. It was more that what she'd hoped for. She walked around the table towards Dirk, and felt Paul's beefy hand grab at her ass. She ignored it. Dirk turned his chair to face her, and she sat down his lap and placed her cool hands on his bare chest. He was smiling at her sleazily as he took her into his arms. They began kissing. Not romantically, but rather passionately, as he pressed his slithering long tongue deep into her mouth. She purred in his lap and ran her hands up and down his back as he hugged her tight young body to his. She could feel the bulge in his pants pressing against her thigh, and she squirmed her butt around to place it over his growing hard-on. He broke off the kiss and whispered in her ear, "You're a goddamned slut, aren't you?" She whispered back, "Yes. And soon I'll be a whore, too!" ** End of Chapter Three part 3 (of 6) ** For the rest of this story please visit my web-site at: www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/The_Lazy_Cup/www/ -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+