The Price Ch. 02

"Nice choice a clothes," he added. Jenny had purposely worn an old pair of jeans and a sweatshirt in an effort to look unattractive. She had foregone make-up and her hair was pulled back, too. Tom had picked up on that and was clearly annoyed. "Next time make a little more effort." The door closed behind her and she heard him throw the dead bolt.

Next time? Jenny almost stumbled, her legs suddenly rubbery. Next time? She almost cried, but she held herself together. She was trying not to give him the satisfaction of cutting her any deeper than the surface. But the words 'next time' scared the hell out of her and it was all she could do to keep her voice steady.

"Ah, Tom, uh..." Jenny began, trying to look at him, but unable. "Can we, you know, is there anything that... I mean, I know in the past and all that, uh, you know..." She looked at his face and saw the look, the predatory look. She felt like a lame zebra negotiating with a hungry lion. "I mean, I'm really sorry, Tom. I know that I was, you know... "

His expression didn't change. The dignity and confidence that Jenny was fighting to maintain began to slip. She was standing at the precipice and if she didn't concentrate, she would surely fall.

"In the other room," Tom directed, nodding his head. When she hesitated, he gave her a push toward the doorway. Once her legs were in motion, she managed to continue until she entered the next room. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw what was there.

A woman was sitting on the sofa, feet up and sipping a beer. She acknowledged Jenny with a nod.

"You're the hit-and-run chick, right?" the woman asked. She was a bleach blonde, mid-forties, Jenny guessed. Her body was skinny with little in the way of hips or boobs. She was wearing a silk blouse that showed her small tits in a flattering way and tight slacks that did the same for her slim figure.

The hit-and-run chick? Is that what Jenny was? Who was this woman that called her the hit-and-run chick?

"Uh," Jenny wasn't sure what to say. Nothing in all of her mental preparation for this encounter included the possibility of anyone else being involved. She stood just inside the room, staring and unable to reply.

"I'm Amber," the blonde volunteered. "Friend of Tom's." She jerked her head toward the door through which Jenny had just entered. Jenny looked over her shoulder. Tom had not followed her. She turned back to the blonde, confused.

"Don't worry," Amber said, noticing her confusion. "He'll be here in a minute." Jenny wanted to say that she wasn't worried that he wouldn't show up, but her brain and body were in some sort of disconnect. She couldn't move.

Before she could regain herself, she heard Tom's footsteps coming from the room behind her. He gave her a push as he came through the doorway.

"I think you know the drill by now," he said. The drill? Jenny was completely out of sorts. All of the things that had done to prepare herself for this encounter went out of her head. She was utterly lost and at Tom's mercy again. Her brain was swirling with questions and confusion. What was this woman doing here? Jenny was the 'hit-and-run' chick? What was Tom going to do? The drill?

She felt Tom's strong grip turn her around. He reached past her to give something to the blonde woman, but Jenny didn't see what. Things were moving like a video on fast forward. She couldn't get her bearings at all. Then she saw Tom undo his pants and reach inside.

"No! Wait, Tom! Wait!" Jenny finally managed to cry. "Can't we..." Jenny could feel the futility of her question without having to ask it. She thought of a different tactic. "Who's she?" Jenny pointed to the blonde on the sofa.

"She's gonna be our photographer," Tom replied. He seemed amused by Jenny's panic. Photographer? Jenny didn't know what kind of answer she expected, but the one he gave stunned her. She whirled around and the blonde held up a camera. Jenny realized that must have been what Tom handed her.

"No! Wait, wait!" Jenny cried again. "Can't we do this some other way? I'm sorry, I really am! Please!" Tom chuckled.

"If you ain't figured it out by now," Tom told her, leaning in close. "I own you. And if you thought I owned you before, you ain't seen shit, sweetheart!"

Jenny trembled. What did he mean? She realized she would not leave here with a shred of dignity. She would not leave here with his promise to destroy the pictures he had. She was going to leave here knowing that at any moment, he could ruin her life. Or have his way with her. Or both.

She watched as he fished his large cock out of his pants and presented it to her. He was right. Jenny knew the drill. Her role was to get on her knees and suck it and when he came, swallow it. Would it really become a routine, Jenny wondered? Tom said he owned her. Did that mean he was going to have her come over and suck him off whenever he wanted?

It was too much to think about. Listlessly, Jenny sank to her knees. Once again she was staring at his large, semi-erect member. She fought back a sob as she took hold of Tom's cock and opened her mouth. She closed her eyes and leaned forward, feeling the slippery velvet of his head slid across her tongue.

Even with her eyes closed, Jenny perceived the flash of the camera and knew the other woman was photographing her. Involuntarily, Jenny stopped moving.

"I don't know, Tom," Jenny heard her say. "I don't really know why you'd bother. She ain't much of a cocksucker." The camera flashed again as Tom pushed Jenny down on his shaft. He forced himself too deep and Jenny gagged. She turned her head aside and coughed, but quickly resumed sucking him before he pushed her again.

"Give her time," Tom replied. "The last time she blew me, she really got into it and then she was pretty good." Jenny's lips continued to slide steadily, if unenthusiastically up and down his shaft. Flash. "Besides," Tom added, "she's one of those uppity types that hates a man cumming in her mouth. But you watch. She knows she has to take it all and swallow every drop!" They both laughed.

It occurred to Jenny that for the first time in her life someone was actually watching her give a blow job. She had only given blow jobs to a few men in her life and, to the best of her knowledge, no one had ever seen her do it. Now another woman was not only watching, but snapping pictures of her. It was so outside anything that Jenny had been prepared for that it made the whole thing seem very remote. It could have been happening to someone else.

"I don't know," Amber said when they stopped laughing. "I guess there's something to making a stuck-up bitch swallow your load. But wouldn't it be better if she gave half-way decent head?" The two of them laughed again.

Jenny was trying to block out what was happening, block out what the blonde was saying. It was enough that Tom was forcing her to do this. That someone else was watching was almost incomprehensible to her. Now she had to listen to them laugh at her? She bobbed up and down on Tom's shaft a little faster. She had to get this over with.

Make a stuck-up bitch swallow? Was that the thrill for Tom? Was that part of the humiliation? Jenny wasn't feeling especially smug or superior at the moment. If Tom's intention was to crush her spirit, her sense of self-worth, he was doing a masterful job.

"Okay, there she goes," the blonde said. "Keep it up, sweetie. I'll get some video." Jenny was already mentally numb. She heard the word 'video,' but what that really meant didn't register at first. It wasn't until she turned her head slightly and looked over at the blonde that it hit home.

Amber was sitting on the edge of the sofa, leaning in close with the camera. Her eyes were locked on the camera's display.

"Oh, yeah. That's good, hon," she said to Jenny. "Look up at the camera with that fat cock in your mouth. Mmmm. That's real good. Ever watch yourself suck cock before?" Jenny tried to shake her head, but she was afraid to interrupt her sucking.

With no warning, Tom pulled back from Jenny, his cock slipping from her mouth. Without conscious thought, Jenny quickly leaned forward and put her lips back over him. He pulled away again and without hesitation, Jenny responded as before.

"See?" Tom chuckled. "Told you she gets into it. Under that smug, high society skirt, there's a slutty little cocksucker."

"Maybe," the blonde replied, her attention still focused on the camera. "She does look like she's starting to warm up to it now."

Jenny heard the words, but again it didn't immediately sink in. Warm up to it? When Tom had pulled away, Jenny had reflexively taken him back into her mouth. Why? Fear that he'd push his member down her throat again? Because she wanted to hurry up and get this over with? Maybe. Those possibilities were more comfortable than believing that she was actually trying to please him.

She was, of course, trying to please him. Or at least get him to cum. The longer it took to get him off, the longer she would be on her knees before him; the longer she would have to feel and taste his thick cock in her mouth.

Jenny started stroking Tom's cock with her hand as she bobbed. She could only accommodate about half of it in her mouth, so there was plenty of room for her to use her hands. She could feel the effect it was having on him. His cock strained ever harder as she worked its full length.

Tom pulled away again, this time stepping back and using his hands push Jenny back as she tried to recapture him. Then he pulled her hand from his shaft.

"That's cheatin'," he said. Jenny thought he sounded a slightly out of breath. Whatever he called it, it was clearly having an effect on him. "I want a blow job, not a hand job." He released Jenny's hand and stepped back up to her, his cock smacking against her cheek as she hurried to put him back in her mouth.

After another minute or two of sucking him, Jenny, without thinking, reached up and took hold of the base of his cock again. Tom reached down and slapped it away. She put both hands in her lap. She made a mental note not to use them.

Even as she did it, she realized that Tom was training her. He was teaching her how to suck his cock the way he wanted her to suck it. And she was learning. She was making a conscious effort to do it the way he wanted. She remembered his comment earlier about owning her. It frightened her the extent to which she suddenly found that to be true.

On the way here today, Jenny had been planning on finding a way to make peace with Tom and get out of this horrible predicament. Now she was kneeling in front of him, trying to learn what he liked and didn't like. What to do and not do. For next time.

Next time.

It chilled her as the realization sank in. There would be a next time. There might be a lot of next times. The camera flashed again.

Yes, Tom was going to have a whole photo album of reasons why there would be more next times. Those thoughts gave her a strange, almost out-of-body feeling. She hardly felt her own presence. It was like she was floating on a tether, only distantly still attached to her physical self.

Despite her almost trance-like state, she was aware of the approving grunts and comments Tom was making. And she was equally aware that she was making a record of them in her mind. A repository of information she knew she would have to draw on.

"Ahh, shit!" Tom exclaimed in a husky voice. "I'm gettin' real close." He gestured to Amber. "Make sure you get this on video. I want to see this slut's face while she's takin' my load." His breathing got heavier and Jenny felt him put his hand on her shoulder to steady himself.

"Don't you dare stop suckin' when I cum," he panted. "And you damn sight better swallow it all." He grunted a couple of times and Jenny felt his shaft stiffen. A second later she tasted the first hot, sticky gob of his cum. She almost stopped, but remembered his words. She continued to run her lips up and down his quivering member as he deposited a second and third spurt of cum into her waiting mouth.

She found the taste salty and horrible and it took a huge effort of will to get her throat to cooperate and swallow it all. And she didn't dare stop sucking him to do it. She continued to suck him as he softened until he pushed her away. Then she sank back on her heels, her chin dropping to her chest.

She didn't feel bad as much as she felt nothing. She was an empty shell, devoid of emotion. There were terrible thoughts threatening to bubble up from within, but for the moment they were held in check by calm of just being numb.

"Ah, yeah," Tom said to Amber. "Nothin' like a blow job from a stuck up bitch like that." He zipped his jeans and turned away.

"I don't know," replied Amber as she looked at the pictures on the camera. "Maybe it's fun to make her do it, but it looked like a pretty lousy blow job to me."

"Nah, see, you don't understand," Tom said as he joined her looking at the pictures. "She thinks she's too good for it, too good for me, right?" Tom paused, checking out the pictures on the camera. "But, see? She's no better than anybody. She gets right down on her knees and sucks dick like a whore."

"Doesn't mean she gives good head," said Amber with a shrug. "I've never given a blow job that lame in my life."

"Yeah, but you like it."

"You think she doesn't?" asked Amber. "Maybe you think she doesn't want to. Hell, maybe she thinks so too. But she likes it alright."

Tom got up and left the room. After he departed, Jenny climbed slowly to her feet. She wasn't sure why, but she sensed that Tom would not have liked it if she had stood up before he left or gave permission. She knew instinctively that he wanted her to be on her knees.

A distant part of her was furious that she accepted this; that she just went along with it. He had finished his humiliation of her. At least for now. There was no reason she should remain groveling on his living room floor in a gesture of subservience.

But that voice inside was shrill and distant. Jenny didn't feel the slightest urge to test her limits with Tom. She tasted defeat as she had tasted his cum. It was bitter and difficult to swallow, but there was no other way.

"Uh, I... can I leave?" Jenny asked Amber. Amber looked up from the camera.

"Don't you want to see these first?" she asked. Jenny shook her head reflexively. She hadn't even considered it. No, it would only make the situation more real, more inescapable. She shook her head again. Amber shrugged. "Okay, your loss, kiddo. But I have to say, you do look sexy with that big fat cock in your mouth." Amber held the camera for her to see.

In spite of herself, Jenny had to look. It was a three-quarter shot of her face, fairly close up. Her eyes were closed and her lips were stretched wide by Tom's girth. If Jenny had been reluctant, that picture didn't show it.

Jenny quickly looked away, embarrassed, ashamed and scared. She had never really looked at the pictures Tom had taken the last time around. Even the one he had mailed, she had given only a cursory appraisal. She realized that if someone else were to see these pictures, there was no sign that Jenny had been coerced. She appeared to be a willing participant.

"Look," Amber said to her. "It's good that you make like you hate it, or he'd probably be tougher on you." She gave Jenny a long, serious look. Jenny didn't understand what she was saying and it must have showed on her face.

"You act like you hate it," Amber said, jerking her head to the door Tom had departed. "That you hate being forced to suck his dick. He's gettin' off on that idea, get it?" Of course Jenny understood that much. "But you like it."

Like it? Jenny was confused again. What was this woman saying? That she wanted to be here? Liked it...?

"No, no," Jenny said, suddenly feeling close to tears. "I... I..." Amber stood up, came to her and took her by the chin. With her other hand, Amber held the camera in front of Jenny's face.

"Does that look like you don't like it?" she asked. Jenny looked. It was a video clip. She watched as the video showed her sucking dutifully on Tom's large cock. Jenny was on her knees, hands on her thighs, eyes closed, lips gliding up and down on the thick shaft in her mouth. Everything about her posture and motions lent credence to Amber's words.

Was it true? Was it really? Jenny was so confused. There didn't seem to be any concrete point inside her that she could take hold of to anchor herself. Everything was swirling. Things about herself that she took for granted seemed to be slipping away and she found herself floating without a frame of reference.

She felt the shame and humiliation of being forced to her knees, to suck Tom's cock and to swallow his cum. She was scared almost to the point of shaking at the thought that he could, at any moment, demand that she do it again. And he almost certainly would.

But the most haunting thing was the idea that Amber was right. That Jenny might like it. Jenny had spent some time thinking about scenarios where she was forced to service Tom. Now that she had, she could compare those musings to what had actually happened.

On the surface, of course, there was no comparison. She had come here with the hope that she would be able to talk her way out of this compromising situation. She had failed miserably at that. She had also thought it would be possible to retain her dignity, even if she were forced to physically submit herself to Tom. Another complete failure. It was about as dismal an outcome as Jenny could have imagined.

On the other hand, Jenny was looking at pictures of herself in the act and they didn't necessarily convey the same sense of despair. At no time had she been eager or particularly willing, but the pictures didn't show a lot of reluctance either. What did she really feel? Was it possible to feel several different ways about the same event? And to feel so differently within herself about it?

Without a doubt, Jenny felt a crushing depression. At any time she could get a card in the mail or a phone call or something from Tom. And when she did, it would be time to get on her knees again. She would, meekly and humbly, do as he instructed. She would leave in shame, stripped of her pride, with the taste of him still in her mouth.

But was the cause of her depression the man or the act she had to perform? Or was it caused by something else? Something deeper? Was Amber right? Did Jenny secretly, subconsciously, long for this? Was this horribly submissive role she was forced to play somehow suited to her? Did it fill some unknown need in her? Did she want to be owned by an asshole like Tom? Be his cocksucking little slut?

Jenny would leave here today and go on about her life, outwardly showing no indication that this had ever happened. No one would know or suspect. Things would go on as they always had. Until she was summoned again.

Next time.

How would she respond to "next time?" She'd have time to think about it and brace herself for Tom's degradations. But could she brace for her own emotions? What if "next time" found her more willing?

She looked at the camera again and again saw a picture that showed no indication of coercion or reluctance. Did Jenny really enjoy--or, rather--need a dominating jerk like Tom to wave his cock in her face and order her to suck it? Did she really?

"Yeah, hon," said Amber, as if she knew what Jenny was thinking. "You don't look all that unhappy about that schlong in your mouth." She pulled the camera away and looked at Jenny. "Each time you're gonna realize just a little bit more that you like it. Then you'll wake up one day hoping he calls, 'cause you're gonna know you like it. Need it, even. That's when you're gonna look in the mirror and see yourself for what you are: a cocksucker."