Josie Cooper is the property of a mysterious company, and she doesn’t even know it. Her life and her desires are controlled by powerful men. Now, her owners are looking to make a deal, and she’s become a bargaining chip in their larger plans.
[Warning: this 7200 word story contains intense sexual scenes with multiple partners. Josie offers her mouth and pussy up to men who own her completely.]
A dark brown van with tinted windows pulled up to the intersection, right in front of us. I felt an intense sense of deja vu at the sight. I thought about taking a step back, but I was torn: maybe they were who I was supposed to meet. Before I could make a decision, the vehicle’s side door opened and a burly man in dark jeans and a t-shirt hopped out. He barked sharply, “Override 74:6F:79:21. Come here and get in.”
I stepped forward, even as I struggled to remember who he was.
Behind me, Ashley protested weakly, “I… don’t… understand… Who… are you?”
That was enough to shake me out of it. I didn’t know who the man was, and I didn’t want to get into the van. I stopped just out of arm’s reach, Ashley behind me.
The man pulled out a phone and held it up, its screen offering a fluid purple design. Brilliant geometric shapes emerged from the shifting light, interspersed with words and cryptic strings of numbers. It was all too fast to catch, almost strobing in my face.
I froze and stared forward, dimly aware that my mouth was hanging wide open. My nipples were stiff beneath my sports bra, and I felt an unexpected trickle of moisture between my legs. I realized it would be visible through my jogging pants in moments: I hadn’t worn any underwear this morning.
The man lowered the phone and said angrily, “Get. In.”
I blinked in dull surprise and took several halting steps forward, my legs working under their own power. I was as unsteady as a newborn foal. He stepped aside to let me past, and I leaned in. There was a second tough looking guy in the back of the van. He waved me toward him, and so I clambered clumsily into the rear seat.
I watched the first man manhandle Ashley into the van, pushing her into the middle seat behind the driver. She wriggled, but she didn’t protest. He got in beside her and slammed the door shut.
The driver pulled forward, not even waiting for us to get belted in. That made me nervous.
Ashley asked weakly, “Where’re we going?”
Rather than answering, the first man pulled out a small metallic canister that looked a bit like mace, and sprayed the petite blond in the face with a fine white mist.
Ashley blinked in surprise, then her expression went blissfully slack. She slumped in her seat.
The first man glanced our way and said, “You really screwed the pooch here, Nelson. This gal’s red, do you see that? Means her programming ain’t good enough to just disappear her for a few hours of off-the-books fun.”
I shivered at the word, turning it over in my mind. Computers were programmed. Girls weren’t. Were we?
About Jessie Hackborn
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Published March 4, 2013
Erotica, Literature & Fiction.