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Subject: "Rooms to Let"  By Phil Phantom
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Copyright © 1997,  Phil Phantom,     ALL Rights Reserved

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without
the written permission of the author.  This story may be freely
distributed with this notice attached.  The author may be contacted
through mrdouble@ix.netcom.com.




                         "Rooms to Let"                       
By Phil Phantom

Returning to the old house brought back a flood of memories. 
Its musty walls and dark passages, peeling paint and greasy
wallpaper released those memories into my receptive mind.  Every
creak reminded me of my childhood.  Stains held the faces of
ghosts from my past, a parade of ghosts that spanned twelve
years.  Almost all made an impact on my life.  One gave me
Susan, my twelve-year-old daughter.  Another gave me Samantha,
my ten-year-old.

At twenty-five, I still had not found Mr. Right.  The ghosts
from my youth clouded his image.  I probably wouldn't recognize
him if he fell on me.  When Mom died, she left me with a
warehouse of conflicting emotions and a boarding house of old
ghosts.

Daddy built the big three story house.  He and Mom raised eight
kids in it.  I came along as the youngest was leaving the nest. 
I was an oops.  They were both in their late forties when I
arrived.  Daddy died two years later.  I don't remember him at
all.  Mom remained in the house and began letting out rooms to
help make ends meet.  

We had six rooms to let out.  In my early years, I recall lots
of college kids and single women, some had babies.  As I neared
puberty, she rented exclusively to men, mostly older men.  Some
would say, dirty old men.  She never kept the place up; and,
after a few years, the only people interested in a room from us
were bums, winos, drifters, and men hiding from their past.  A
passing police cruiser would send them scurrying.

The third floor was reserved for the transients.  It had three
rooms and a common bath.  When the toilet ran constantly, Mom
turned off the water to the tank.  The men flushed by filling a
bucket from the tub.  She never went up there after that, and
that was the last repair we made.  I had to go up each week.  It
was my job to collect rent money.  Mom made me wear a short,
thin dress with no underwear on rent day.    

On the second floor was another three rooms--mine, and two for
fairly stable residents.  We also shared a bath that I kept
spotless.  Mom got a kick out of making me share a bathroom
without door locks with two men.  She would not permit me to
block the door shut, nor could I hang a curtain for the tub. 
After blocking it several times against her orders, she removed
the door completely.  She removed my bedroom door a month later,
using it to replace one on the third floor.  I never knew what
privacy was after the age of ten.

On the ground floor was the living room, kitchen/dining room,
Mom's bedroom, and the suite (the former den reserved for Mom's
favorite).  She shared her bathroom with him.   His room cost
ten dollars more a week than those on the second floor, twice
what the rooms on the third floor went for.  The others had to
use the outside stairs to each floor to come and go.  He was the
only guest allowed downstairs and had full use of the downstairs
facilities.  Mom treated him as though he were part of the
family; he could even boss me around.  Susan's father was a
suite guest but a sour molester.

Mom was never what you might call attractive.  Besides being
old, overweight, and sloppy, she had bad teeth and more facial
hair than most of the men we rented to.  The only time I ever
saw anyone flirting with her was on rent day.  Rents were due
weekly.  Those who fell too far behind were condemned to share
her bed.  If they fell further behind, or something better was
late, out they'd go.  Mom was a pig, but in a strange way, we
loved each other.  It was a love hate relationship on both sides.

I knew she resented my youth and beauty.  I knew she got off on
placing me in vulnerable situations.  She knew I resented being
used as amusement or as bait to lure lovers to her bed.  I also
hated her sloppy habits and having to do all the work necessary
to make living in the house possible.  I moved out (ran away,
actually) at the age of fifteen and never returned.  The house
was mine by default: no one wanted anything to do with it.  One
walking tour through the place and I knew why.

Ten years of trash and accumulated filth rendered the house
worthless.  Mom's second and third mortgage made it a white
elephant.  What possessed me to take it was a mystery to me
then, but I took it.  It was mine, mortgages and all.  

It took me, Susan, and Sam (Samantha) three months just to haul
the trash to the dump.  We got help from a reclusive teenage boy
who lived behind us.  He drove his father's old pickup truck
back and forth between the house and the dump on weekends.  With
the money I got from the sale of my car, we bought paint,
cleaning supplies, and repair materials.  Benjamin and his
father, Roy, helped with repairs, asking only for a home cooked
meal in return.  I used to babysit Benjamin, and Roy was the
first man to put his hand in my panties at the age of eight.

We began with the third floor rooms and rented those out as
quickly as we could.  I had a mortgage to meet.  By the end of
our third month, the second floor was ready.  Sam and Susan had
my old room, but the bath had a lock.  Those second floor rooms
I intended to rent to female college students.  They remained
empty, however, as I turned away one man after another.  In a
panic, I accepted two renters that were every bit as low as mom
ever rented to.  The girls didn't like it, and complained
bitterly about the way those men ogled them.  I knew exactly
what they were going through, but we remained in a pinch.  I
begged their indulgence.

The downstairs took another two months to complete, but it was
better than I ever remembered it being.  The project kept us
behind in the mortgage payment, so I was never in a position to
be giving our boarders a hard time.  As a consequence, when the
second story men bored holes through the bathroom door to spy on
the girls, I said nothing.  When they broke the door lock, I
said nothing.  I replaced the lock three times, then removed the
door.  When the girls hung curtains, I took them down, using the
lame excuse that fire codes did not permit them.  They
protested, just as I had done, but they learned to live with the
situation.

I had no intention of running the house as my mother had done,
but I soon found myself doing exactly that.  Circumstance
conspired to bring that about.  I suppose the same thing
happened to my mother.  When you must rent to dirty old men, and
you must put up with their shit, and you have a sexy young
daughter or two, what's a mother to do.  You can't keep fighting
it.  Like trying to hold back a storm tide, you just wear out
and the water keeps rising.  Mom surrendered, and so did I.

Not a day went by that I didn't have to listen to what those men
did on walking into the bathroom and finding a little girl on
the toilet, or taking a bath.  I knew the tales; I lived them
all.  I've had winos pee between my legs while I sat on the
toilet, pee in my bath, and pee on me while in my bath.  I've
had them wipe their drippy dicks on my face.  I've been wiped
and washed and scrubbed between my legs with a toilet brush. 
I've been dried until my skin glowed red, especially in my
crotch, and I've been raped in my bathroom too many times to
count.  Samantha was probably conceived in that bathroom. 
Complain as they did, they got the same answer I got:  "My hands
are tied, kid.  We are behind in the mortgage.  If he moves, we
could lose the house.  You'll just have to put up with it for a
little while longer."

A dramatic change came over me when I first walked through that
house after ten years.  I became horny.  So much of my sexuality
was tied to that house.  I never experienced sex like that after
moving away.  My daughters noticed the change almost
immediately.  As I took them on the tour, I stopped along at
various places and described, in lurid detail, a scene of sexual
molestation that was perpetrated on me there.  

I enjoyed the retelling.  I enjoyed the look of shock and
bewilderment my stories generated.  Their lives up to that point
had been rather protected and sedentary.  They'd spent much of
their formative years in my brother's home.  My brother and his
family are straight arrows, conservative to a fault.  I was in
and out of their lives for much of that time.  Their knowledge
of sex was extremely limited.  

They were as innocent as I was, and I took great pleasure in
telling them they had no choice but to tolerate the indecencies
and the loss of privacy.  I looked forward to the day when the
first came to me holding her sore pussy, crying about the nasty
man who put his thing in her vagina.  Hopefully, before that day
came, I could get them to stop calling a cock a thing and a
pussy a vagina.  I'd hold her, soothe her, and make her tell
mommy all about it.  And then, I'd tell her there was noting I
could do about it.  I'd tell her to be nice to the man so he
wouldn't move out, but to be sure and tell mommy everything he
does.  I'd then wipe her pussy and legs, swat her playfully on
the fanny and send her out to play.

I figured the first would be Samantha, oddly enough.  She took
to exposure like a politician.  She liked it when the men peed
between her legs and hit her vagina with their piss stream.  She
liked having the men scrub her in the tub and dry her.  Susan
reported that her sister often ran around naked and went into
the mens' rooms with them.  I knew Sam wasn't getting screwed;
she would tell me.  She freely admitted sucking on their cocks
until the stuff came out.  I praised her for making the men
happy, and told her that, thanks to her, they would probably
stay.  Susan could not believe I did that.

Susan was more like me at that age: shy, modest, inhibited, and
submissive.  She has my features.  The girls have different
fathers and look nothing alike.  Sam is dark with curly hair, a
precocious little nymph; Susan is light blond, fair skinned,
with long straight hair, a budding Barbie doll.  Both look
adorable, but Susan is developing into her woman's body and is
self-conscious of her titties and pussy curls.  Susan tries to
avoid the men, using the bathroom when the men are away or
asleep.  She complains about every intrusion, and complains most
bitterly about Sam's habit of alerting the men when Susan is in
the bathroom.

Sam watches her sister's ordeal and reports from her perspective
after Susan lodges her complaint.  I get to hear two versions of
her abuse.  I hope to hear two versions of her rape.  After
listening attentively to both versions of how she was forced to
spread her legs to allow both men to piss into the toilet, and
how they hit her vagina on purpose; or how one held her
up-side-down while the other scrubbed the inside of her vagina
with her own toothbrush; or the time they drained her bath water
then took turns pissing on her as she sat naked in an empty tub;
how they lifted Sam and encouraged her to piss on her sister as
well; I'd offer my sympathies, re-explain our plight, then tell
her to be nice.  She was further vexed when, instead of berating
Sam for getting the men, I hugged her and told her she was a
rascal.

From the start, they also got to see me in my slut mode.  Roy
offered to help out for meals, but he obviously wanted more.  He
wanted me.  He was pretty obvious about that, too.  I worked in
loose shorts and a knotted shirt without underwear.  I made
Roy's job hard by making his dick hard.  His son, Benjamin, had
the same difficulty when I worked with him or the two together. 
I put on shameless exhibitions that made the girls giggle when
they'd see what the guys were seeing.

After our first meal together, I got up and went to Roy.  I took
his hand and purred, "Desert will be served in the bedroom if
you're not too full."  He followed right behind me with his
tongue dragging.  I took my blouse off on the way.  We fucked
with the door ajar and I was quite vocal.  He went out and asked
Ben if he wanted desert.  Ben eased in and found me sprawled
naked on my bed with his father's cum pouring out of my open
hole.  He shut the door and nervously stripped on his way to my
beaver.  I gave that kid the ride of his life, his first fuck.

Afterwards, I went out naked with cum pouring down my legs clear
to my heels.  I made a special effort to parade myself before my
astonished daughters.  Susan would not look down; Sam would not
look up.  After that, if the guys saw something, they grabbed
it.  This often led to an on-the-spot fucking, often with the
girls looking on.  Before the first man moved onto their floor,
they'd seen it all: fucking, cunt lapping, cock sucking, and
butt fucking.  Before our first tenant moved in, they both had
received numerous bare bottomed spankings from Roy, and later,
Benjamin.

Susan was the first, and she got it a week after that first
meal.  With so much to be done, I had no difficulty finding
fault with their work.  I noticed that Roy had difficulty
keeping his eyes off Susan's ass and legs.  I made them both
work in the tiny bikinis I'd bought them.  Susan hated hers; Sam
loved hers.  Both looked adorable in them.  Having to do a great
deal of stooping and bending around the guys, gave the guys
amply opportunity to steal peeks.  Roy was blatant about it and
picked on Susan.  

He liked to send her up a ladder while he held it for her, then
direct her in meaningless chores, all the while with his face
near her butt.  He'd position the ladder so that she had to
reach far out, left or right, forcing her to throw one leg out
as a counter balance.  It didn't matter if I was right there
beside him, he'd get his nose in her crotch.  This drove Susan
to distraction, but if she faltered, or brought her leg down,
I'd give her ass a smack and push her leg higher.

On that first night, she was being punished for dropping a
pallet of patching compound after Roy tried to snake his tongue
under the crotch of her suit.  I instigated the incident.  While
holding her leg up overhead, I stuck out my tongue, flicking
air, a dare to Roy who was sniffing her crotch.  His tongue
slithered under the leg band at the crotch, and the spackle hit
the floor.  Roy kept licking, and I kept holding the leg for
him, so she got her twat licked anyway.

Afterwardds, I took Roy aside and told him of my plan to punish
Susan after our desert fuck.  I asked him to deal with it.  His
smile almost cracked his weathered face.

After giving Ben his desert, I walked out nude, as usual.  I
told Susan that she would be punished by Roy for dropping the
spackle compound that afternoon.  I turned to Roy and said, "You
handle her as you see fit, Roy.  I'm sure you know how to
discipline naughty young ladies.  I'm sure you appreciate the
value of humiliation in curbing bad behavior.  I give you a free
hand with her."  

Susan's face fell.  She went ghost white.  Roy took her by the
arm and strong-armed her into the living room.  We all hurriedly
took seats around him when he sat on the sofa with Susan
trembling before him.

The girls still had their suits on, so she was almost naked
anyway.  Roy wanted her nude.  He ordered her to strip.  Susan
pleaded and tears welled in her eyes.  She was most upset by
having Ben watch.  The two had been flirting with each other. 
Ben was no catch, but to a twelve-year-old, he, at seventeen,
was a prize to attract or practice on.  Ben was licking his lips
in anticipation.  My response was to laughingly say, "Come on
sweetie, lets see those new titties.  And I'm sure Ben is dying
to see what you have between your legs.  You've been waving that
pussy in his face all week."  I got us all clapping and chanting
in unison, "Strip!  Strip!  Strip!"

Susan stood trembling and mortified, but her fingers went to the
ties.  Her top went first, then the bottoms.  When they fell,
she stood in a modest pose, covering her tits with one arm and
her crotch with a hand.  Roy made her stand up straight with
arms at her sides.  Stiffly, she assumed the pose.  He then made
her move her feet out wide, very wide.  He made her place her
hands on her lower ass, and lean far back.  She did it, but only
after a fierce internal struggle ending in total surrender.

Sam got down and sat by Susan's left foot and reached up to poke
and pry at Susan's pussy.  Susan begged me to stop Sam, but I
said nothing.  This emboldened Sam, who began penetrating both
of Susan's intimate openings.  Before long, she took to prying
her sister's cunt lips open and toying with her clit.  Ben was
leaning out for a close look while I sat back, snuggled up to
Roy.  

Roy lectured Susan on being a responsible helper, dragging out
her ordeal.  When it came time for her spanking, he sat on the
forward edge of the sofa and had her lay far over his lap with
her head resting on the floor.  This had her ass up.  We moved
her knees apart and gathered around to look down on her exposed
pussy.  We all toyed with her lucious pussy.  She lubricated
profusely.  Her private parts swelled with her unwanted arousal.
 While we amused ourselves with her pussy and asshole, Roy
delivered hand spanks where he could.  Her punishment lasted
twenty minutes.  She probably took a hundred smacks.  Her ass
and thighs were bright red, and her inner thighs were sopping
wet.  You'd think she'd pissed herself.  

Roy let her up, but made her stand in a corner facing out with
her legs apart and arms behind her.  Her wetness ran down her
legs.  She was so humiliated.  I remember my first public
spanking at the hands of Mom and three male perverts.  I
remember it often, but only when I can masturbate.  The way I
saw it, I gave Susan a gift to last a lifetime.  She did not
appreciate my gift, but in time, she would.

Every workday ended with one or both girls getting a similar
punishment.  Sam looked forward to her punishments.  She was bad
on purpose.  Susan never did grow accustomed to them, but never
put up a fuss and never cried after the first.  In the weeks
that followed, before we took in our first guests, the girls had
to work in the nude.  Susan seldom worked without a finger or
tongue in her pussy or butthole.  Sam invited them.  They
weren't exactly innocent when the first man moved onto their
floor.  Both were still virgins, however.  

Susan knew the score.  She knew I was getting my jollies by
putting her in sexual harm's way.  She knew it was only a matter
of time before she'd get screwed.  As I had with my mom, she
grew to accept her fate, and accept her mother as she was.  She
didn't understand me, but she still loved me.  I understood
perfectly.  Sam was difficult for me to relate to.  She wanted
it all, never once showing any reluctance.  She ate up sex as we
fed it to her and had a big appetite for it.  She was fun to
watch, but not nearly as exciting to watch as Susan.  

Watching Susan was like looking at myself going back in time.  I
could almost read her every thought.  I knew she truly hated
being made vulnerable, hated being made to expose herself, hated
the humiliating spankings, hated the dirty old men, and hated
the loss of bathroom privacy.  I also knew that alone in her bed
at night, her finger stole between her legs as her mind recalled
every detail.  I confirmed this by going to her room, late at
night while they slept, and sniffing her fingers.  The fingers
of both hands reeked of pussy musk.  

Besides, Sam often caught her in the act and never failed to
report what she saw at a time when I'd be talking to a guest, a
prospective guest, a neighbor, or meter man.  These were
terribly humiliating experiences for Susan, but great
opportunities for me to expose her to new eyes.  I would act
upset and excuse myself from the visitor to address the problem.
 I would ask Sam to show me what her sister was doing.  Sam, of
course, would try to uncover Susan's crotch.  I'd make Susan put
her hands behind her back and remain still.  

Sometimes, I'd slap her to make her stay still.  Before Sam
proceeded, I'd turn to the shocked visitor and say, "If you are
uncomfortable, you can wait in another room or turn your back." 
In all the years we played this same scenario, no one ever went
away or turned their back; not women, not family men, not even
the police who often stopped by to look for my residents.

What followed went something like this:  Sam would uncover
Susan's sex, then use her own hands to simulate what she saw. 
The position was never right, so I'd make Susan lie down either
on the floor or on the sofa.  There, Sam would sit astride her
sister's chest facing her feet and show what Susan was doing
with her hands, in effect masturbating her, doing her damnedest
to fully expose all of her sister's intimate anatomy before an
astonished visitor.  I'd permit this to go on and on while
lecturing Susan about her nasty habit. I would drag this out
until Sam had a chance to induce an orgasm that Susan couldn't
resist or hide.  I would then berate her for deriving pleasure
from the exposure and tell her to expect a punishment.

Susan hated this as well, but learned to accept it.  She learned
never to challenge Sam's accusation; consequently, Sam was free
to fabricate incidents to meet any occasion of opportunity. 
Therefor, most of our new residents were first introduced to my
Susan's naked pussy, obscenely displayed, and whipped into a
froth.  You can imagine how forward they would be with her after
such an exhibition of her lusty nature and feminine charms.  It
was Susan's job to go around to collect the weekly rents.  She
hated this, too.

For her rent collecting uniform, I had a special dress made of
shear, see-through material.  From the waist up was an elastic,
body-hugging, white spandex that molded her form and showed her
breasts quite clearly.  A simple finger pull would pop the top
below them.  Her skirts billowed just below her ass cheeks and
she wore nothing under the dress.  With the dress, she wore high
heels.  She was a sight.

On her first collection day, we had only two residents on the
third floor.  The first guy made her show him her tits before
handing over the money.  The second made her take the dress off
and assume obscene poses for him in her heels.  He kept her for
over an hour.  She had instructions from me to do whatever was
necessary to get the money.  She came stomping down the stairs,
carrying the dress, her body covered in sperm strands.  She
walked up and handed me the bills, saying, "Here, Mom, there's
your stupid rent money.  I did what was necessary.  I hope
you're happy."

I simply smiled, counted the money, and said, "You did very
well.  Are you still a virgin?"

"Yes, but I won't be for long if I have to keep collecting the
rent in this stupid dress."

"Well, I guess you won't be for long, then, huh?"  She stormed
off to her room exactly as I had done thirteen years before her.

Her second collection day had three residents on the third
floor.  The first wanted to see tits and pussy this time.  The
second had her strip, pose, and fingered her.  The new resident
made her strip and masturbate for him while he jerked off on her
fingers.  She was gone for two hours.

After a month, we had the second and third floor rooms filled,
five residents.  Her collections took four hours and she had to
suck off one of her floor mates.  She came to me, naked, with
cum running from the corners of her mouth.  She handed over the
money.  I thanked her.

I was surprised that after two months of collections, she still
had her virginity intact.  I had to surrender mine on my second
outing.  It became a tossup between Sam and Susan for first
prize, and I wondered what was taking those guys so long.  Was I
more intimidating than my mother.  I doubted that.  Was she more
obvious in her desire to set me up?  I didn't think I could be
more obvious.  I practically presented Susan to them on a silver
platter, and permitted Sam to visit their rooms in the nude. 
She roamed the entire house, even the third floor.  They all
knew that I knew what was going on and said nothing about it. 
It was all very puzzling.

I was just about to send her out on her next rounds wearing only
pushup bra, crotchless panties, and heels when Sam came bounding
downstairs excitedly saying, "Mom, hurry, Susan's getting
fucked!"

We both ran up the stairs and Sam led me to their room.  She
threw open the door and there, on her own bed, was Susan getting
humped by her next door neighbor and floor mate, Terrence, a
sixty-year-old retired railroad worker.  He knew we were
standing in the doorway, but he kept pumping away.  Susan laid
limply and took it while looking at me with this
I-hope-you're-satisfied-now look on her face.  Before he came,
her legs came up and she dug her heels into his buttocks.  He
came with her pulling him deep.   When he collapsed on her, I
walked up and said, "If you plan to keep on fucking my daughters
whenever the mood hits you, I'm doubling your rent.  Either
that, or pay by the fuck.  A fuck is five bucks from either one.
 You decide, but decide right now.  This fuck is on the house."

He rolled off and looked up to me.  He smiled and said, "Double
my fucking rent."  His rent went from fifty to one-hundred bucks
a week.  After resting for an hour, he fucked Sam.  I got to
watch that as well.

His other floor mate heard about the deal he had and came to me
with an additional fifty bucks.  I smiled, took it, and followed
him to the girl's room where I watched him screw them both and
cum in Susan.  The next day, a guy from the third floor was at
my front door with forty bucks in hand, the other half of his
doubled rent.  I smiled and took it.  The other two third floor
residents could barely handle forty a week for a room, let alone
more for unlimited pussy.  They compensated, however, by putting
Susan through her paces on rent day.  Each kept her busy for
over an hour and made her fuck for the rent money.

Just like mother, I was soon running an in-house whore house,
and making a tidy profit.  I used the extra money to fixup the
downstairs nicely.  The suite got special attention.  I wanted a
special man to occupy it, a man for me to play with.  He had to
be a working man, under forty, handsome, and in shape.  I knew
I'd be interviewing many people before finding a suitable
applicant, but I wasn't pressed for time or money.  

What I didn't realize was that renting laws had changed since
the old days.  Landlords could not discriminate by age, sex, or
race.  A young college co-ed challenged me with a law suit if I
didn't let her have the room.  I had no choice, I rented the
suite to her.  The arrangement was very strained for a while. 
She knew she had full access to the downstairs, my bathroom
(which was part of my bedroom and I could not lock her out), the
kitchen, and TV.

She was a feisty little shit, a freshman, cuter than hell.  She
was a cheerleader and was elected prom queen at her old high
school.  She was also a track star with an athletic build, a
tight bundle of firm hard flesh.  Her trophies filled her room. 
Her big tits looked out of proportion to her petit frame.  They
vibrated when she walked.  She stood five two and weighed
one-hundred and ten pounds.  Her full head of long chestnut hair
framed a face right off of Sweet Sixteen magazine.  The girl was
too cute for her own good, and too innocent to remain a virgin
in my house.

She was raised on a farm, and I was certain she was a virgin. 
She prayed before eating and never dated.  She aspired to
nursing and missionary work after college.  We had nothing in
common, so we had little to talk about.  We did, however, grow
comfortable with each other.  My girls loved her, and she loved
talking and playing games with them.  I knew that sooner or
later, Nancy would find out what went on upstairs.  I told her
she could not go up there.  I also told the girls not to talk
about our private lives with Nancy.

Nancy also put a crimp in my sex life, which I came to resent
more and more.  I had met several men who were welcome to stop
by anytime for a quickie or an all nighter.  Besides Ben and
Roy, there were five others, including Terrence.  I wasn't about
to change my habits for her.  The inevitable happened three days
after she moved in.  She walked right into my bedroom on her way
to the bathroom while a man was pumping me.  I watched her
reaction as she marched right past and into the bathroom,
pretending not to see anything.

She stayed in the bathroom for much longer than any good dump
takes.  I knew she was waiting us out.  I was determined to give
her a sight she'd never forget.  I had my man sit on the edge of
the bed nearest the bathroom door and lay back.  I mounted him
facing the door, waiting.  When the door knob moved, I leaned
back on my straight arms and bobbed my pelvis up and down on his
shaft.  That's what she saw when she opened the door, and the
sight froze her for a few seconds.  She went red as she stared
at my cunt sliding up and down a ten-inch cock.  She made her
way out and never said a word.  By the look on her face, I
figured she was packing.  I was wrong.

Though we tried to tone things down, Nancy caught bits and
pieces of my other activities.  She liked to do her reading from
a chair that had a view up the stairwell.  From her seat, she
got glimpses of naked little girls and naked old men going back
and forth from the bathroom to the bathrooms.  She observed me
collecting one-hundred dollars from Terrence and Henry for a
week's rent.  She knew my girls shared a bathroom with the men,
one with no door.  Sam let that slip.  What I was not aware of
was that she could hear.  The girl's bedroom was over hers.  

I carried her folded towels to her one day.  She invited me into
her room.  I set them on her dresser while she sat on her bed
against the headboard with her knees drawn up, reading a book. 
The unmistakable sounds of people fucking filtered from
overhead.  We could hear a stressed out kid's bed thumping
rhythmically and the sound of Susan's voice saying, "Yes!  Yes! 
Ohh...Uhh!"  

Namcy grimaced a shy question and said, "You're pimping them,
aren't you?"

I said, "What do you know about pimping?"

"I'm not stupid.  I do read and watch movies.  Don't worry. 
What you do is your business.  They're your kids."

"But you disapprove."

"It's not for me to approve or disapprove.  It's not a perfect
world.  A woman on her own does what she has to get by."

I took a seat on her bed with a view up her short skirt.  I had
a good view of her crotch.  My first good look revealed that her
pink panties were skewed and wet.  The left leg band was caught
in her slit, leaving her left labia lip and clit exposed to my
eyes.  I had obviously interrupted her finger play.  To confirm
this, I looked to her wet fingers and smiled.

Nancy saw where my eyes kept darting.  She blushed a deep red. 
I enjoyed making her uncomfortable and settled lower, closer,
resting on my elbow.  Looking right at her twat, I said, "So, it
doesn't bother you that I rent my little girl's pussies to horny
old men?"

"No, like I said, that's your business--literally, I suppose." 
I remained staring hard at her exposed cunt, making her anxious.
 She said, "Do you have to stare at me there?"

"I don't have to, I want to."  

"Yes, if you must know, I was masturbating.  Every girl does. 
I'll bet you do it, too."

"You're right; we all do.  I was just admiring your pussy from a
professional viewpoint."  I kept staring, and moved closer,
placing my head at her feet.

She didn't try to cover herself, but said, "What do you mean?"

"I am in the pussy selling business, you know."

"But mine is not for sale."

"That doesn't mean I can't admire its potential, its
marketability."

"Yeah...What would it bring?"

"Oh, I don't know...Show me what you've got."  

"You mean, show you my vagina?"

"No, show me your pussy.  Ladies have vaginas."

She drew a deep breath.  She hesitated for a few moments, then
her right hand drifted down and hooked the crotch.  She pulled
it aside, exposing her sex completely.  I moved in closer, my
head between her thighs.  I said, "Very nice.  Good form, full
labia lips, a firm standing clit, juices nicely, good hole
symmetry, no blemishes.  I'll need to test the hole.  A tight
fit is most important.  Do you mind?"

She gave a throaty, "I suppose."

I reached out my index finger and slid slowly in to the last
knuckle.  She let out a gasp and stiffened as I turned and
twisted my digit in her tight, slippery hole.  I poked and
probed her opening, felt her hymen, then drew out and said, "I
could get twenty bucks a pop for this pussy.  Double that for
your cherry.  Split fifty-fifty, of course."

"Is that good?"

"It's good for this town.  There's too much free pussy in a
college town.  Free pussy drives the price down.  You could go
to the city and get two-hundred for your cherry."

"Wow.  Can you really find men that would pay to have sex with
me?"

"Sure, but I'll have to train you.  The split is seventy-five
twenty-five for your first month.  Your cherry fuck is all
yours. It's a tradition."

"Wow, forty bucks.  That's almost a week's rent just for letting
a guy put his penis in me."

"We call it a cock, Nancy, and he won't just put it in, and you
won't just lay there like a fucking blowup doll.  He's paying
for a fuck from a live pussy that fucks back.  That's what your
training will teach you.  I'll teach you how to milk sperm from
a cock using your cunt muscles."

My words were getting to her.  She still held her crotch band
aside and her index finger lazily stirred through her slit. 
From years of direct sales, I knew to take an assumptive
attitude with her.  I said, "Here, let me show you."

I grabbed her by the hips and pulled her down so that she lay
flat on her back.  This startled her, but I gave her no chance
to protest.  I flipped back her skirt, then took her panties by
the waist band, telling her to lift up.  She lifted and I moved
her panties down and up her thighs.  She raised her legs and
brought them together so I could remove her panties.  I then
laid her legs out wide and brought my hand to her pussy.  

The girl was panting with a full flush as I inserted my two
middle fingers.  She moaned as I went deep.  I let her adjust,
then said, "Now squeeze my fingers.  Make like you have to pee
real bad.  Strain, girl.  That's it, squeeze.  Those are the
muscles we need to train.  When I get through with you, you will
be able to suck sperm out of a cock without moving your hips."

She lay there with a look of bliss, squeezing on my fingers
while I gently moved them in and out.  I never saw such a sexy
sight.  This girl was so turned on, so fresh and pure, so
flawless.  Her pussy melted on my fingers as she rolled in a
sensuous grind, moaning with her eyes crossed, biting her lower
lip.  I reached my free hand to the top button of her blouse and
said, "Let's see what you have to offer in the tit department."

She watched me unbutton her blouse, unhook the center clasp, and
fold back the cups.  She arched her breasts into my exploring
hands.  I pinched her nipples and fondled her ample tit flesh
while she rolled, lifting one then the other.  I said, "Nice,
fuckable titties, Nancy.  Good nipples too, tight, chewable. 
Guys will love biting these babies.  Press your tits together. 
Let's see what kind of pussy you can make of them."

She pressed her mounds in hard from each side, bringing the
nipples together.  I said, "Excellent.  They'll fuck nicely. 
Can you suck your nipples?"

She strained to reach them with her outstretched tongue, but the
firm flesh wouldn't permit the touch.  She collapsed her head
back, saying, "I can't."

"That's too bad.  Perhaps we can stretch them.  Okay, let me see
your hip action.  Fuck yourself on my fingers."

She planted her feet on the mattress and heaved up in short
finger-gobbling humps.  I said, "Put a rolling grind in it. 
That's it, gentle, not too much.  Lift, drop, rock, and roll,
that's the name of the game.  Keep your ass off the mattress. 
Do all the work.  Use those vaginal muscles, squeeze, always
squeeze on the draw out.  Think of your cunt as a milking
machine--a cock milking machine."

The kid was going out of her mind, moaning, "Uhhhh!   Ohhhh! 
Yessssss!  Fuckkkkkk!"

I let her grind out a good cum, then drew my fingers out of her 
soupy pussy.  I stood looking down on her as her eyes slowly
opened.  I said, "I guess you'll do.  It'll take some time to
get you ready for your cherry fuck.  I can't do it before the
next rent is due, but we can try for the one after that.  I'll
need help.  You'll work out all day and night.  All of your free
time will be spent in training.  I can get my girls to help."

I went on in this way, giving her no opportunity to stop me. 
She listened attentively.  I went on, "Of course, you'll need to
be ready at all times.  Clothes only get in the way.  You'll
remain nude while in the house.  That should be no problem.  No
one visits me that can't see a naked girl working out.

With no sign of protest from her, and seeing she still had that
warm glow, still laid with her legs wide apart and her tits out.
I began casually taking off my clothes while saying, "Of course,
we will need free and easy access to your cunt.  You will learn
to keep your legs apart while sitting our standing."

"What will you do to my pussy?"

"We'll put training devices in you to condition your pussy and
asshole to accept foreign objects naturally.  Things such as hot
dogs, candles, pop sickles, cucumbers, carrots, dildoes,
fingers."

"You mean you guys will just walk up and stick things in me?"

"Yes, and you'll learn to accept them without blinking an eye. 
We will direct you in exercises to tone your internal muscles,
and we'll fuck you with those things and others.  Sam may come
to you in your sleep and start fucking you with a dildoe.  Susan
might climb under the table and slip a hot dog up your ass.  I
might finger you while you're reading a book or doing homework. 
Do you have a problem with any of that?"

As I figured, she shook her head in a bit of a daze.  By this
time, I stood nude before her.  Nancy's eyes wandered my body. 
To seal the deal, I said, "You'll need to watch me fuck.  I'll
bring you in on my screwing.  I want you to get right in there
where the action is.  Make a pest of yourself.  You can't get
too close.  If your face doesn't get wet, you weren't close
enough."

"You mean while the guy is fucking you?"

"When else?  You might want to do the guy a favor and give his
cock and balls some tongue action.  No guy will object to your
head being in the way if you're licking his cock and balls."

"You want me to lick the man while he's fucking you?"

"Yes, what's you're problem?"

"Nothing, I guess.  It just sounds so nasty."

"This is a nasty business, Nancy.  Sex is nasty if it's done
right.  Now, it is customary for a novice to reward her trainer
with her tongue.  Since you will have three trainers, you'd
better learn how to tongue a pussy.  Have you ever sucked a
cunt, Nancy?"

"No, never."

I climbed onto the bed and threw my leg over her head before she
could object.  I was straddling her head with my knees at her
shoulders, holding myself up with my hands by her hips.  I
looked back and said, "You should know where everything is and
what feels good.  Probe the hole and suck the clit.  That's
about it.  Here, you do what I do."

With that, I bent to her pussy and laid my upper body on her
belly.  Grasping her by the ass, I pressed my mouth to her
beaver.  Shortly, I felt her hands grasp my hips and pull as her
face came into full contact with my pussy.  I licked; she
licked. I stuck my tongue up her hole; she stuck her tongue up
my hole.  In this way, I gave great head and got great head. 
When I had enough, and rolled off, she followed and kept sucking
and licking.  I laid there and let her get her fill.

She lovingly lapped my twat.  I knew I had her.  She was hooked.
 The girl was so horny and so naive, my mind worked overtime
devising creative ways of exploiting her for our pleasure.  I
was in no hurry to put her on the block, though I knew I had a
little gold mine.  While she licked me, I invented new rules for
her that she nodded acceptance to while munching my pussy.  

I said, "Your ass belongs to me unless you want to move out on
your own, understand?  From now on, you use the whore's
bathroom, upstairs.  My daughters are senior whores, you serve
them as well as me until you pass your apprenticeship.  You'll
do house work, and you'll serve our sexual needs.  You will cook
our meals and clean up afterwards.  You will attend our bathing,
do our hair and makeup, and clean our cunts after a fuck."  She
nodded vigorously.

The girls came home from school to find Nancy, naked, scrubbing
the kitchen floor with a cucumber stuffed up her ass and a foot
long Polish sausage hanging half out of her twat.  Nancy had her
ass to us and was scrubbing away with her shoulders low.  They
just stood there and stared with their mouths open.  I took them
both into the bedroom and explained everything.  Sam was beside
herself with excitement.  Susan was just awed by what I told
her.  She could not believe Nancy would stoop to such degrading
things.  I told Susan to strip.

She stripped and I led her to the kitchen.  I brought her to
stand in front of Nancy, then said, "Nancy, show your trainers
what I taught you."

Nancy took Susan by the hips and buried her face in Susan's
cunt.  Susan's eyes went wide and her feet moved out.  Soon, she
was humping her cunt on Nancy's tongue with a big smile on her
face.  Sam was on her knees at Nancy's ass, playing with the
stuffing, putting a wiggle in Nancy's ass.  I stood back and
watched, pleased with my day's work.

We could not have asked for a more willing and obedient student.
 She balked at nothing.  She accepted every humiliation we could
heap on her.  Some were so outrageously designed for the sole
purpose of degrading her and humiliating her, she would have had
to be a total idiot not to see that.  Nancy was no idiot.  What
drove her only Nancy knows.  

She readily welcomed anything we could shove up her ass or cunt
and wore it until we took it out.  I broke her cherry that first
day when I shoved the Polish sausage up her twat.  I simply told
her that her hymen meant nothing and men couldn't tell the
difference.  She accepted that.  She also took unusual objects:
Barbie dolls, shampoo bottles, soap bars, ice cubes, boiled
eggs, billiard balls, a roll of quarters, both ends of a
baseball bat, a live garter snake stuffed fully inside her
pussy, and all kinds of food stuff.  Whatever we brought to her,
she spread to receive.

She was also kept on display where anyone could see her.  People
came and went, but Nancy could not hide.  All my lovers got to
see her and know her in action.  I preferred to fuck doggie
style while over her with her head in my crotch.  There, she
licked us both and the fuck dripped in her face.  After a fuck,
she ate my cunt.  She also accompanied Sam and Susan on their
fucks, serving them likewise.  Susan took her along on her rent
collections with Nancy wearing nothing but high heels.  She even
had a shaved pussy, thanks to Sam.

Roy set up a training device using the dining table.  He
fashioned dildoes with flat wooden handles that fit between the
leaves.  Closing the table on these left the dildoe mounted
sticking up in the table's center.  We made Nancy straddle these
devices and do squats on them with her hands behind her neck. 
She had to settle until her cunt lips touched the table's
surface.  We even used pop sickles as dildoes, making her fuck
herself until she was squatting on a stick with a freezing,
syrupy twat.  Often, while we ate the dinner she had prepared,
Nancy did squats on a dildoe set in the middle of the table.

We stretched her tits by using the table opened in the middle by
six inches.  She'd lie face down on the table with her tits
dangling through the open space.  We'd put clamps on her nipples
and hang weights from them.  This was terribly painful for her,
but she took it stoically.  The more weight we placed on her,
the harder we had to set the clamps.  She got to where we could
hang one gallon milk jugs filled with dirt from her nipples
clamped flat, and we'd leave her like that for hours.  As a
result, her tits got stretched, elongated, and her nipples
became three inches long.  After two weeks, she could suck her
nipples without bending her head, and her tits hung two inches
above her navel when she stood erect.

We did the same thing to her clit, making her sit astride the
space in the table.  We used the same clamps and same weights
with the same results.  After two weeks, she had a clit that was
three inches long.  It stuck out from between her bald pussy
lips like a little boy's cock.  

Everyone I knew intimately knew Nancy was for sale.  Her cherry
was on the auction block.  Guys would stop by and examine her. 
The bidding, which Nancy was not aware of, got up to three
hundred dollars.  She went to a local attorney.  She got a free
week's rent out of it.  After that, we put her ass on the block
for twenty bucks a pop.  I got fifteen; she earned five towards
the next week's rent.  In her month of apprenticeship, that
little whore earned me two-thousand dollars.  She got to live
rent free and earned herself two hundred besides.

Nancy introduced me to two of her college girl friends.  I
managed to move my second floor men out and set them up there. 
We trained them as we had Nancy.  The money rolled in.  I got
rid of the men on the third floor, remodeled the entire house,
and got three more coeds to move in and go into training.  I had
a real whore house.  Mom just never saw the potential of the
place, or didn't have my business savvy.  I am one rich lady
today, but the town's folk call me Madam. 

                          The End


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