Debut at Aphrodite's Arms Pt. 02

I stumbled through the red curtain that separated the main hall of the mansion from the large dressing room that my fellow Charites used more as an 'undressing room'. I whined as I walked across the large rectangular space and sat my wide naked bottom down upon one of the soft red-cushioned swivel chairs in there. My pussy felt wrecked, stretched out and really sore, and I was going to have to deal with that.

My name is Greta, Greta Klein, but I have a new name now, Ariadne, pronounced 'Arie-odd-knee', that name meaning 'utterly pure', though I felt nowhere near pure at the moment. I had just been ass-fucked by my first Hermes, one of the rich and powerful men that came here to Aphrodite's Arms to fulfill their sexual desires, Aphrodite's Arms being the most exclusive club for prostitution in the entire world. My ass, however, was not what was bothering me. That man that had just taken my Charites 'virginity' had also used a huge strap-on dildo on me, spread my pussy wider than a pop can, and I was definitely feeling that burn right now.

My Horae, pronounced 'Ohr-riss', was a young African American woman the same age as I was, twenty-two, and I knew her as Kennedy, but here in this place she was called 'Callisto'. Because she was my Horae, my handler and trainer, I was only permitted to call her 'my Horae'. It was demeaning, but I was being paid one million dollars to work here for a full year, and my college education was paid for on top of that, so being servile was just something I was going to have to get used to.

As a Charites, pronounced 'Ka-ree-tess', I was a handmaiden of Aphrodite, a title and station I had to live up to here at Aphrodite's Arms. That meant I serviced a number of Hermes every night I worked, that schedule being every other night when I was not on my period. I had a number of rules to follow, and I still did not know many of those rules, and the punishment for not following them was...strict. Getting two marks meant you got put up in the stocks for six hours, six hours of ball-gagged captive fucking by all of the Hermes lined up to get a piece of your ass for free while they were here. This was my first night here, my debut, and I did not want to screw up and get put up on stage in the stocks. The thought of it terrified me.

This place was not what I'd expected it to be. For one thing, I was to be nude my entire year here, and I was only allowed to wear a thong when I was on my period. Otherwise, my little white bowtie and soft white-felt slip on shoes were my only other articles of clothing allowed. Not only that, but the birth control they had me on, the Olympian Ambrosia, drove my libido through the roof. I was constantly horny, and that first month of taking it before I came here caused me to masturbate so often that I thought I had a sexual disorder. To top it off I was going to be 'given' a ring after my first night here, a silver diamond ring that I would NOT be wearing on a finger. No, that ring was going in my right labia, and I wasn't looking forward to that piercing, either.

I had just been a normal college student before Kennedy had handpicked me out of thousands of girls across a number of universities. She had convinced me to prostitute myself for a lot of money and benefits, something I just couldn't say no to. I had never even considered becoming any kind of a prostitute; such a thing was something I had frowned upon heavily in the past. Now I was here, and I had just serviced my first Hermes, so...I officially felt like a whore. It did not sit well in my psyche.

I should have known this would happen. Even with my sore pussy bothering me, it was my own guilt that was bothering me more. I slumped in the chair I was in, my blue eyes watering a little as I felt the weight of it all hit me. I'd just had sex with a man for money, and I did not like the feeling it brought down upon me. It made me feel worthless, made me feel like a liar and a hypocrite. I had never had anything against sex workers, but...that didn't mean I'd ever wanted to become one. It was really hitting me hard.

I was a blue-eyed twenty-two-year-old white girl, five-five, one-hundred and thirty-eight pounds, with an hourglass figure, C-cup breasts with large brownish-red nipples, and good hips with a very bald, very shaved, and very visible vulva between my legs. I used to have long curly black hair, but now my hair was in a short, short pixie cut and dyed blonde to fit in with my new persona as Ariadne, the Utterly Pure One. However, this new identity of mine was proving difficult to accept, even for the amount of money I was being offered.

I cried a little in my red-cushioned swivel chair as another Charites walked in and sat down across from me. She was nude, of course, wearing only a black bowtie and soft black-felt slip on shoes, a white girl like myself but a little older maybe, probably in her mid-twenties. She was taller than I, at least five-ten, but she was lithe with a little bit of athletic muscle as opposed to my short hourglass figure. She had a sharp face with startling green eyes, that sharply attractive face ringed by long curly black hair set up in a pony tail, hair much like my own before mine had been cut and dyed. She had little B-cup breasts with brick-red nipples in the centers of them, and she spread her legs open as she sat down across from me, displaying her open pussy to show off the six silver rings along her inner labia, each with a small black diamond in their centers. She had a little white stream of cum slipping out of her hole down the crack of her ass, and I could see some of it on her inner thighs, so she had just come back from servicing a Hermes, just like me.

She gave me an amused smile as she stared at me, but this upset me even more. I reached up and wiped at my own tears as she simply smiled and said nothing.

"What?" I asked in a choked voice.

"You must be the fresh meat," said this other woman. "The one they call 'Ariadne'."

I didn't like the tone of her voice or what she said, so I was automatically on the defensive.

"Leave me alone," I sniffed as I reached up and wiped away a couple of more tears.

"Don't be rude to me," frowned this other Charites. "You'd better cross all your t's and dot all your i's while you're here, little girl, or you'll be getting pumped in the stocks. Six hours of constant fucking. That's three hundred and sixty minutes of getting fucked in both of your holes. That's what happens to most of the fresh meat that comes in off the street."

"I didn't come in off the street," I frowned. "Ken...M...My Horae recruited me while I was getting ready to start my junior year in college."

"Another college girl," snorted this woman. "How original...and fucking stupid...Yeah, you'll end up just like Chloe. I'm sure you saw her out there on stage, right? She came in just last week, and she's already up there...Pathetic."

I didn't like this woman at all. I was hurting between my legs, I was upset over what I'd become, and I did not need this woman's bullshit right now.

"Don't insult me," I warned her.

This woman gave me an evil smile and just shook her head.

"Yeah, poor Chloe," she replied. "Her name means 'green shoot', and she'd just gotten her first ring last week. It's a pretty little emerald to go with her green bowtie and shoes. She's green, just like her name. Poor thing only made a couple of tiny mistakes..."

She shrugged and gave me a nasty smirk.

I'd had enough of her already, but my curiosity got the better of me. I really wanted to know what 'poor Chloe' had done so that I didn't make the same mistakes.

"What did she do?" I asked.

"Medeia!" came Kennedy's voice from the other side of the room.

This other woman, 'Medeia', narrowed her green eyes at me and gave me a wide smile.

Kennedy marched up to us from the red curtain that led back into the servants' hall. My friend and Horae was now nude except for a red bowtie and her own soft-felt red slip on shoes, her dark-skinned body a taller, thinner hourglass in comparison to mine, her C-cup breasts displaying large black nipples in the centers of them. She had mentioned to me earlier that she was doing 'charity' work tonight and that she would be a Charites again for a short time, but this was the first time I had seen her naked, and it stunned me into saying nothing for a moment.

"Out," ordered Kennedy as she glared at 'Medeia' and thumbed back toward the servants' hall. "You can take your break elsewhere."

This 'Medeia' stood and gave Kennedy a condescending smile before replying to her.

"Of course, my Horae," she said in a sly tone, and then she left, exiting via the servants' curtain.

Kennedy looked at me and gave me a sad frown.

"You can't ask what another Charites is being punished for," she said unhappily. "It's just like asking about the real names of our Hermes or any of the other rules that protect privacy here...I have to write you up for that. You now have one mark."

My mouth dropped in open disbelief. I couldn't believe she was doing this to me.

"But...But I didn't know!" I whined.

"I already told you to come and ask me if something was permissible to do or say," said Kennedy in a sad voice. "I wouldn't write you up for this, but Medeia witnessed it, so I have to. I'm sorry."

"But she...she tricked me!" I said in yet another whine.

I was whining a lot lately, but I didn't fault myself over it, considering the situation I was in.

"Her name literally means 'cunning'," frowned Kennedy. "She likes to get the new girls in trouble. She does it to everyone."

"Wh...Why!" I stammered out. "I've never done anything to her! I just met her!"

Kennedy closed her dark eyes, took in a deep breath, and released it before staring me down.

"She got in trouble her first week here," explained Kennedy. "She made a mistake and got a mark, and then she misunderstood what one of the other girls said and ended up getting her second mark. Almost everyone ends up in the stocks at some point, but unlike myself and the others, Medeia got traumatized by it...at least that's my theory. To me it was just another form of kinky sex, but to her...it was the ultimate insult. She's a proud young woman, Ariadne, and though she may not look it, she's actually our age. I really, truly believe that she thinks that everyone else here is out to get her, all because of that misunderstanding that happened months ago. You should just avoid her altogether."

"That doesn't help me now!" I whined. "I have a mark now! I don't even know when they go away! How long do I have to go without getting in trouble before its removed?"

Kennedy shook her head no and frowned.

"It doesn't go away until you've served time in the stocks," she said unhappily. "I'm sorry."

"That's not fair!" I choked out, and this time I started crying again. "That wasn't my fault!"

"It doesn't matter," frowned Kennedy. "You have to follow the rules or else...and I know this sounds like I'm picking on you or betraying you, but...you have to call me by my title. I'm ignoring it right now because no one's in here, but someone could easily walk in here while we're talking, and then you'll get your second mark."

I broke down into real tears as my bare shoulders shook in absolute misery. I was really regretting this place now. I didn't want to be here anymore, but I also didn't want to give up the money that was now sitting in my bank account collecting interest, so I caved and responded accordingly.

"Y...Yes, my Horae," I said as I wept.

Kennedy walked up to me, leaned down, and rested her dark hands on my bare shoulders as I tried to control my own pathetic weeping. I wasn't really comfortable being touched by other women while they were naked, but I knew that she was only trying to console me.

"It's going to be fine," she said in a confident voice. "You're all right. Nothing bad is going to happen to you, okay? Almost everyone gets put up in the stocks at some point. Even if you do get put up on stage and in the stocks...in the end...it's just sex. It's what you're already being paid to do. There's nothing scary about it...True, it's a little humiliating, but you'll get over it...I did. You're going to be fine, Ariadne. There's no reason to cry over this. You need to relax during your break, anyway."

I wiped my eyes and nose as I nodded without looking at her. She was right about me having to relax, and I needed to rest a bit just to ease my sore pussy. That big black dildo my first Hermes used on me really stretched me out, and this stress and feeling sorry for myself wasn't helping that physical suffering at all.

I decided to complain a little. There was no one in here but Kennedy and I, and I didn't think she'd mark me down unless someone else came in.

"You didn't tell me there'd be toys or things like that," I grimaced.

"What now?" asked Kennedy.

"My first Hermes used a really big strap on dildo on me," I winced. "It hurt me."

"You have to call me by my title," reminded Kennedy.

I closed my eyes and winced again. I couldn't remember to do anything right anymore; I was that stressed out.

"I'm sorry, My...My Horae," I said.

"You'll get used to saying it," replied Kennedy. "I'm just trying to keep you out of trouble...Now...where does it hurt?"

I pointed toward my crotch. I didn't really want to say where it was out loud.

Kennedy knelt down in front of me and inspected me like an amateur gynecologist.

"You'll be all right," she said gently. "Just take it easy for the rest of your break. You're just a little sore, the same thing we all put up with here...I take it you're not used to the kinkier stuff, then?"

I shook my head no and took in a gulp of my own saliva.

"Well..." said Kennedy slowly, "there's a lot more here than just dildos. Each Hermes reserves a private room filled with the activities of their choice. I take it you satisfied your Hermes, though?"

"Yes, my Horae," I replied, answering correctly this time.

"Good," smiled Kennedy. "That's the most important thing to remember."

"I thanked him, too," I sniffed. "I didn't forget."

"Excellent!" grinned Kennedy. "I have to warn you now, though...Every room is different because they're individually decked out by request from each Hermes. You'll find...other things in the rooms, and...you won't know what's in there until you're in there. The Olympians want to ensure that the Hermes have control over their Charites. They can do all kinds of things to you, but they can't really hurt you. Remember that."

"Yes, my Horae," I replied.

"Great," said Kennedy.

She stood, clapped her hands together in excitement, and then walked over to the box shelf containing the files of each Charites' Hermes. It suddenly occurred to me that I had been talking to her normally, having a normal conversation even though the both of us were completely nude. I guess I was getting used to that little fact, albeit slowly. It hit me in a weird way, and I had to stop and think about it for a second.

I wasn't sure how I felt about all of this, being a sex-slave here at this giant compound of interconnected mansions out in the middle of the Nevada desert. Kennedy had told me not to think of myself as a sex-slave, but her description of the rooms and 'other stuff' made me feel like I was one, anyway.

She walked over and handed me both files of my next two Hermes.

The first one, a famous football player, was someone I didn't recognize, mainly because I was not into sports. This man was a large African American that was handsome in the face with a flattop buzzcut of curly black hair on his dark chocolate skin. I'd never had sex with a black man before, never even dated one, so this was going to be new for me. The second man, however, was someone I recognized immediately. He was a wealthy entrepreneur from the states, someone I knew just from seeing him on the news, and it shocked me a little that he had chosen me as his Charites. He was also someone I had fantasized about in the past, a dream crush of mine, and I was kind of flattered that he chose me but also a little disturbed at the same time.

"Isn't this..." I said as I held up the entrepreneur's picture.

"Ah, ah," warned Kennedy. "Don't discuss the Hermes; just service them. You can't discuss their names or anything else they've done in the outside world. It protects their privacy. It's part of the allure of this place."

"Yes, my Horae," I frowned.

"Cheer up," smiled Kennedy. "I have to leave, but you should just relax in here until your break is over. I have to go perform a charity request, but I'll be back soon enough, okay? Just keep out of trouble and do everything your Hermes asks you to. Your next one has a very large dick, but remember to call it his 'sword' or 'spear' when you talk to him. You don't need another mark...There's a bottle of water on the shelf for you. I went and got it from the kitchen while you were out on the floor. You need to keep hydrated, Ariadne. Don't forget to drink something that isn't alcohol."

"Yes, my Horae," I replied.

She left me there in the 'dressing room', and I finished the rest of my break while sipping on my water. I left that bottle behind on the box shelf and walked through the red curtains out into the main hall, determined to get this next Hermes out of the way. I had already violated my own beliefs by 'servicing' the first man I was tasked with, so doing this next one didn't feel like crossing a line. I had already crossed that line.

The main hall was huge, surrounded by dark wooden walls with various paintings of Aphrodite and decked here and there with busts of Aphrodite and replicas of the Venus de Milo on white marble pillars. There were red-velvet divans of dark cherry-wood about the place with various nude Hermes lounging upon them, just as I had seen it the first time.

I walked across the short and soft red carpeting of the main hall toward the stage, however. I needed to see something first.

The stage was huge, as wide as the main hall, a flat theater stage of dark wood surrounded by red curtains. There were four stocks upon it, but it was the poor captive in the third stocks from my left that I wanted to view. This poor nude prisoner, a young white woman named 'Chloe', was currently being fucked from behind by an older Indian gentleman, a balding man with a white streak of hair wrapped around his brown head in a thin line.

I studied her body, because I couldn't see her face. I could see her green-felt slip on shoes and her green bowtie and collar, but her head and hands were in the stocks, so I couldn't tell what she looked like. She had a short hourglass figure with C-cup breasts and a wide bottom just like myself, so it was not too difficult to paste my own head onto that body in my active imagination. It bothered me a lot, because I suspected I was going to end up in there just like her, but I was going to do my damnedest not to.

Chloe, my fellow new Charites, squirmed in the stocks as her pale legs twitched while she was violated, her green-felt shoes twisting on the toes upon the dark wood of the stage. This older Indian man fucked her hard and without mercy, and I could see her shoulders getting banged against the headboard.

I didn't really want to be up there. I didn't know if I could take six hours of that. The most I'd ever gone during sex was two hours before I came in a hard and exhausting orgasm, and I fell asleep immediately afterwards. If I did end up there on stage...I was hoping to pass out through most of it.

There were three other Hermes lined up behind this Indian fellow. I shook my head and went off to complete my next task, however. I wanted to talk to Chloe as soon as I could, though, because I needed to know exactly what that experience was like. Hopefully asking about that wasn't a forbidden action...I'd have to ask Kennedy about it first.