Chapter 1.
Debbie at sixteen was borderline which was a relief for her and her family. She was destined to be a wife, just missed being pretty enough to be taker, pumper or washer.
The Taking took place on December sixteenth every year, or the closest school day, and was held without major ceremony. That morning every sixteen-year-old girl found a letter on her desk in homeroom. The selection process was secret but everybody knew the major criteria were looks, face and body.
The sixteenth was a solemn day for girls, not for the boys in her age group. It was a huge obscene joke for them. Those taken would leave their home rooms and report to the gym for induction. Takers and pumpers generally left school, immediately assigned to their occupations in the trades or business. Washers almost always got to finish high school and some even went to college.
Debbie looked over to Nancy who held her letter in shaking hands. Nancy looked up and over to Debbie and gave a tight smile. Nancy folded the letter and put it back in the envelope, got her books, and left the room to the hoots and calls of the boys who were always the worst.
Another girl got up and left, Judy. Debbie had always expected Nancy and Judy to be taken, was surprised when little Amy got up to leave. She’d never thought Amy was pretty enough to worry.
At nine the principal made a special announcement over the intercom about this day and the special privileges for those not taken.
When the bell finally rang Debbie went to her first class. Last year on this date she’d seen the special van by the gym and the school buses parked nearby to transport the takers and pumpers to the central processing station in town.
Employers bid for this special class of employee and, if there were too many girls, a lottery was also held. This meant that the largest businesses, those with the most capital and the ear of elected officials, got the first choice. Everyone knew the system wasn’t fair; it wasn’t meant to be.
Debbie wondered if she’d see Nancy again, almost hoped she wouldn’t. In the seventh grade, in girls’ gym, the process was explained to them and the reasoning. About the special chip injected just under the scalp with the all important switch for those taken. Each class of girl, taker, pumper, or washer, got their own chip along with the tattoo on their upper chest, T, P, or W, which must always remain visible.
The tattoo being seen wasn’t a problem, most of the taken wore as little clothing as weather permitted to draw attention to themselves. They received an incredible amount of pleasure during use if the switch was on along with a constant urge to have sex. If the switch was off because they’d done an infraction, there was nothing except for the heightened urge, no pleasure at all during the act except for a momentary easing of the urge.
Debbie had been in school long enough to have seen washers walk down the hall with cum dripping off their chins while they had the biggest smiles possible, their faces and chests flushed bright red. She’d walked by the boys’ restrooms and heard washers scream their pleasure, or maybe it was a taker or pumper, every school had a few of those.
Sometimes, because boys would be boys, she’d see a washer slouched against a locker in the hall crying, cum dripping down their legs, this stricken look on their face.
Boys were always excited on the sixteenth; by the end of the day there’d be new meat for them. No one paid much attention to those destined to be wives when there were always girls eager for it. Boys would eventually grow up and figure out there was more to life than getting their dick washed in a hot willing mouth, having intercourse with a taker, or ass fucking a pumper. Or doing whatever to those silly girls who liked to party, wear a fake tattoo, and pretend they were taken.
Chapter 2.
“What do you want to do tonight?” Tim said.
“I have to study,” Debbie said. “I have a lot of reading to do.” Debbie’s college dorm room was neat except for the stacks of books on the floor and desk.
“We should do something.”
“I’d like to, but I don’t think I can. We can study together.”
“There’s a movie on campus tonight I want to see, see with you. We hardly ever do anything together.”
“We’re together now.”
“Outside. Walk or anything.”
“I have a lot to read. This quarter it’s Jane Austen and other women writers. It’s pretty dense prose.”
“I work too but—“
Debbie touched his arm. “I want to, I just can’t tonight.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
“Because it’s true. I have a lot to read as a lit major. Now I’m a sophomore I have to work a little harder.”
“If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were putting me down because I’m a freshman.”
“Go to the movie, come back, and we can spend some time together. I’m not putting you down at all.”
“I know that. I feel extraordinarily lucky. You’re so pretty.”
“There are prettier on campus. Alice down the hall, say.”
“She’s a taker.”
“So what?” Debbie watched his face.
“I’d rather be with you.”
“She’s a nice girl.”
“I’m sure she is. For five minutes until I’m bumped aside so the next one can take my place. I’d rather be with you.”
“After the movie. I’ll see if I can find five minutes for you.” She was smiling.
“Figure on fifty.”
“We’ll—“
There was a knock on the door. Debbie started to get up as the door opened.
“John,” she said, sitting back on her bed.
“Hi, sweets. Who’s this? My name’s John Thirkle.” He held out his hand.
Tim stood. “Tim Grady.”
“So you know Debbie. Isn’t she a sweet girl? What’s your major?”
“Don’t have one yet. Maybe theater.”
“That’s good. One for the spectacle. I’m a psych major.”
Tim sat back down, John remained standing. “Debbie and I spent a lot of time together last year, didn’t we, sweets?”
“I’m not doing that anymore, John, and you know that.”
“So you say. Tim, watch this. I want to see you naked, Debbie.” He had a big smile on his face.
Oh God, she thought. She stood and took off her shirt.
Debbie glanced at Tim who was staring at her. “I—“
“Naked,” John said. “Tim, see she’s not wearing a bra. She’s not supposed to.”
Debbie unbuttoned her jeans and slid them down her legs.
“What did we say about panties?”
She only had a moment, “Tim, I—“
“Naked.”
She sat on her bed, pulled off her jeans and then her panties. She started to remove her socks.
“The socks can stay on. You’ll need to put on shoes because we’re going out. Tim, you’re welcome to come with us.”
She smiled up at him. “A party?”
“A party for sure. Little Debbie here is my favorite party girl, a good wifey gone bad. I mean it Tim, you’re more than welcome to join us.”
She stood and turned to Tim. “I want you to come with us. I want to please you.”
“Don’t look so glum, chum. You need to get your dick wet before you join us, just tell her which hole. Better than any washer, taker, or pumper you’ve ever fucked.”
“Please, Tim.” She knelt and stroked his legs, now held his crotch, kneading.
Tim pushed her away. “No.” He stood and said to John, “What did you do to her?”
“Just a little of this and a little of that and now she’s everyone’s good little bad girl, aren’t you, sweets?”
Debbie glanced at Tim and tried to show him somehow she didn’t want to do this. She did, but not all of her. “I like parties.”
“Shoes on, then let’s go, sweets. Tim can follow if he wants.”
She wanted to but couldn’t look back as she left her dorm room.
Chapter 3.
Debbie woke and knew someone was in bed next to her. She remembered John walking in and saying that word and the whole thing starting all over again like last year.
Like last year she couldn’t remember what had happened, what she’d done. She had an idea because her body had that feeling, bruised and sore and crusted with dried body fluids.
She kept her eyes shut, not wanting the person or persons next to her to know she was awake.
She had tried to convince her parents she should change schools, that things weren’t working out, but they had resisted, mostly because of financial reasons. She had a good scholarship, the university was well respected, and she was close to them geographically.
“I know you’re awake,” Tim said.
She felt his hand knead her tender breast.
“Rubadub.”
Oh God, he knew. She opened her eyes and he was facing her with a grin. She reached and felt that he was hard.
“Go to it, sweets,” he said.
She tried to pretend she wasn’t eager as she climbed onto him and slid down to take him in her mouth, keeping her eyes on his as she began to lick and bob her head while making little moaning sounds.
“That’s a good girl, sweets.”
She had him in her throat and held him there as she ground her lips into his groin. Came up for air and did it again and again.
“The past three weeks you never let on, did you, sweets? How much you love cock.” Tim arched his back driving deep into her throat. “God, that feels great.”
When he came she drew up and held the end of his cock in her mouth as he spurted, holding it as she tried to hide the orgasm she was having.
Debbie swallowed and then cleaned him.
“Keep my dick in your mouth, sweets, while we talk.”
She watched him, his grin had returned.
“That was quite a show you put on in the quad last night, sweets. There were so many guys every washer, taker, and pumper came out to help you. We’re going to do that weekly. I like John. I’m trading you for commands; he gets you for his parties. I have four commands now and it’s going to be fun. He said there are two hundred. Full on for twelve hours like last night, to like this, or to full on for a week or more. You’re done, get off me.”
Debbie returned to her place on the bed. They were in her room. He’d never spent the night before. They hadn’t done that much before, not like this. “Please don’t.”
“Too late, sweets. You’re going to wash up, make yourself presentable, and then we’re going to see some friends of mine.”
“I thought you liked me.”
“I liked Debbie. You’re sweets now, the on and off slut. More fun than a room full of takers. I’ve never seen a girl do the things you did last night, any time you didn’t have a dick in your mouth you were telling everyone you wanted more. You’re going to get more. More and more and more.”
“Please don’t, Tim. I don’t want to do this.”
“Get washed or go like last night. I don’t care. Well I do, you’re filthy. You don’t want to wash, we’ll keep you on the quad all week.”
Tim was worse than John. Debbie got off the bed, put on a robe, got her things, and went to the showers.
She learned last year when it was like this, crusted, she had to soak her skin before she could wash the crust off. Getting her hair clean was the worst. Last year she’d ended up cutting it short. She’d been letting it grow out because last year was over. Only it wasn’t over.
Debbie wondered what new poor girl John was doing this to this year. She was his third and the bad thing was she’d really liked him, enjoyed having a junior paying attention to her. She didn’t even realize at first what was happening to her, she’d had no awareness. By the end of her freshman she was sure just about every man on campus had had sex with her.
With almost five percent of the female students being taken it wasn’t like the guys weren’t getting sex. But having her not be taken made it special for them for some reason.
It was awful for her afterwards when she didn’t know what had happened. Under some commands she was aware and she’d hated every minute of it, in spite of all the orgasms she’d have. John’s conditioning never stinted on those for her.
She dried her hair with the towel, wrapped it turban fashion, and used the other towel for modesty as she carried her things back to the room.
Tim was still on the bed, naked, humming to himself. “Oh good, you’re back. I decided I can’t wait. Well, sweets, it’s sneak thief time.”
She tossed the towels onto a chair after setting down her things. She wanted it. She walked toward the bed as she stroked her slit to get herself ready for him. Tim had a nice cock, it filled her, and it had a delightful bend so the head hit all the right places.
She got onto the bed and crawled to him, taking him and stroking until he was hard. She watched his face to see what he wanted.
“Bounce on it, sweets.”
She straddled him, turned so she faced him. She rubbed his cock on her slit and positioned the head at the entrance. She sank down on him and had her first orgasm.
“That felt great but that’s no reason to stop, is it?”
She swung her hips into him and away as he lay there, that grin on his face. She had another orgasm but didn’t stop, just a moment of awkwardness, then controlled movements trying to get him off but liking this and not wanting to stop.
He thrust into her from below and held her hips as he came and she came with him with a whimper.
After a couple of minutes of playing with her breasts he slid out and she moved down his legs so she could clean him.
“Oh hell,” he said. “I want to see you naked, sweets. My friends can wait a bit.”
She hated this. His dick was in her mouth and this wasn’t her who was doing this. She wanted him to leave her alone and already she was trying to get him hard again as she started to slip away from knowing.
When she came to she was in a strange dorm room on her hands and knees while someone was fucking her. People were sitting and watching her, including Tim and John. One of the girls was laughing at something and then Debbie realized the girl was laughing at her.
Go on to read the next two chapters.
Debbie Story Page
Chapters 1, 2 and 3 | Chapters 4 and 5 | Chapters 6 and 7
Chapters 8 and 9 | Chapters 10 and 11 | Chapters 12 and 13
Chapters 14 and 15 | Chapters 16 and 17 | Chapters 18 and 19