Indentured Pervitude 01

Indentured Pervitude, Ch. 01

by Rachael DMM

Wendy unloaded the dishwasher. She never used to hate doing housework before, but it had become a loathsome chore for her. It wasn't so much the fact that she had to do it, but that she had to do it alone. Tom was in the next room watching one of his stupid sportsball games. He valued his downtime, so she didn't say anything, but she had worked a full day too, yet it was still expected that she come home, do all the cooking, then deal with the cleanup afterward, while he sat on his ass and didn't lift a finger to help. But that was fine...just fine.

She had her reservations when Tom suggested they move in together. As a couple, they had their struggles, that was for sure, but it gave her a good preview of what life would be like once they were married. Wendy was eager to get to planning the wedding, but Tom kept pushing it off. She was beginning to wonder if he really intended to marry her or if he was just stringing her along. She knew she shouldn't entertain such thoughts, but it was hard not to.

She couldn't think like that, she admonished herself. When the time was right, it would happen. Besides, what choice did she have? Her best years were behind her; it wouldn't be long before she hit the big 3-0. She'd already invested too much in Tom to let things fall apart at this point. No way would she find another catch like him at this stage in her life. Her attention went to her engagement ring, as it so often did at odd moments throughout her day. Memories of the proposal and the thrill of that magical event flooded her with love and appreciation for her relationship and the man to whom she would one day be married. She couldn't help but wonder at her own good fortune.

Even when she was at her best, she could barely compete with the Barbie-perfect sorority girls who were snapping up all the eligible guys, chewing them up, and spitting them out. At 5'7" more than half the guys out there instantly disqualified her as a potential partner. That, when combined with the muscle she'd packed on as a college volleyball player, didn't do wonders for her sex appeal. Not that she wasn't sexy as hell, she told herself, just that guys tended to be intimidated by strong women like her - physically strong, that is.

She knew that was rubbish - something she had to tell herself to lessen the pain of so much rejection in her past. Wendy knew that if she just had bigger boobs everything would be so much easier for her. But then along came Tom and rescued her from a tragic fate as a spinster.

Wendy carefully put her grandmother's mixing bowl away in its special spot. Every time she touched its glazed surface, and felt the raised design painted around its circumference, it reminded her of making cookies as a little girl. Baking with Grandma was about the only girly thing she did at that age, otherwise, she was climbing trees or out catching frogs with the boys. Her life wasn't perfect, she knew, but she was content with what she had.

Tom shuffled into the kitchen, obviously upset about something. Wendy quickly grabbed him a fresh beer out of the fridge before he had to ask. She opened it for him and handed it over. He took a swig. She was struck, as always, by how handsome he was, even after all the time they'd been together he still gave her butterflies. It made the fact that he didn't even bother to thank her for the beer seem almost trivial. How had she gotten so lucky?

"What's wrong? Did your team lose?"

"They will. The new virtual sportscaster on ESPN determined that they're going to blow it in the second half of the fourth quarter. I don't even know why they bother playing the games anymore if these stupid AIs are just going to tell you how things are going to turn out."

"Yeah, but they're not always right though..."

He finished off his beer in one long go. "Sure, they're only 98 percent accurate - anything is possible," he said sarcastically and crushed the empty can.

Tom wasn't a big guy, just an inch taller than Wendy. She didn't mind that at all, except that he strictly forbade her from wearing heels. Which was just as well since they were so uncomfortable anyway. It was a small concession to make for her man (and his ego). He was devastatingly handsome; some would even go so far as to say he had movie-star looks. They would make beautiful babies together, she was convinced - mostly by her mother telling her that over and over again. And, he was in good shape, well...he wasn't fat. But he wasn't all covered in muscles or anything like that. He had a good head of thick, dark hair and she loved the feel of his body, especially when he was on top of her.

Their sex life was pretty good, she told herself as she closed the dishwasher door and looked around for anything else that needed doing in the kitchen. There were things that were lacking, but that's true in any relationship. Some people might say their romance in the bedroom was a bit boring, or maybe even stale. They would usually make love at least one or two nights a week. Sometimes, Tom would want to do it in the morning, which she was always up for. Sure, they weren't doing all kinds of weird positions or trying kinky stuff to "spice" things up, but they didn't need any of that. Tom was always horny for her, which was nice in its own way.

Missionary with Tom on top was just fine with her. It usually went rather quickly these days, which was just as well. They both worked hard, and sleep was often more welcomed than hours of wild sex. Once Tom came, and he went into the bathroom to clean up, that gave Wendy a chance to finish herself off. She always gave herself a lovely orgasm thinking about the hot sex she'd just had. The only downside was that her post-coital orgasm had to be a fingers-only affair.

Her favorite way to come was with her vibrator - one that she diligently kept tucked away in a secret hiding place. Not only would she die of embarrassment if Tom ever knew she masturbated, but he would be livid if he learned she was getting off with a toy that was bigger than he was. Not that he was small...exactly. It was just that sometimes she longed for something more...fulfilling than what he had to offer.

She never dared ask, nor would she ever suggest that they measure him, but she did look up the statistics. In the U.S. the average male was between 5.1 and 5.5 inches. She was certain he was about in that range...or at least very close to it. No matter its size, he did have a beautiful penis. Something she appreciated.

He would get so hard for her it was almost embarrassing sometimes. He was circumcised, which she liked very much. Wendy loved touching it, stroking his stiff shaft, and playing with his soft cockhead. The only problem was that he was always insisting that she suck it. She didn't mind licking it or putting her mouth on him like that, but she kind of hated giving him a full-on blowjob.

It always would end up with him just face fucking her aggressively, and that was more than unpleasant. As much as she tried to handle it, she always ended up choking on his dick. It seemed like that was the goal for him. It must make him feel like a big man or something. She had gotten to the point where she was actively trying to avoid sucking him off as much as possible these days. She felt guilty about that, but there was nothing worse than getting one of his pubes stuck in her throat. She really hated that!

The only reason she even went down on him was that she liked the taste of cum. It was an acquired taste, for sure, but somehow she had acquired it - big time. All the choking - on his dick and his pubes - was all worthwhile for that gooey treat that came at the end of it. It wasn't something she ever openly admitted to him, but she was pretty sure he'd figured it out.

What made it all so much worse, was that he never went down on her. That was the only other thing that really bothered her about their sex life. It took a while for her to bring this up with him. She kept giving him hints that she wanted him to eat her out, but he never seemed to pick up on her very clear body language. When she finally broke down one night after a few glasses of wine and asked him to lick her pussy, it brought their romantic evening to a screeching halt.

He seemed visibly sickened by the suggestion that he give her oral sex. He insisted that he didn't like the smell and that it was demeaning for a man to lower himself and put his mouth on a woman's vagina. Initially, this shocked her. She'd only had one boyfriend before Tom, and he loved going down on her - he couldn't seem to get enough.

Wendy had done a little research and discovered that it wasn't all that uncommon for some men to have this attitude. It was all tied up with notions about manliness, and being subservient to a female. One article even suggested that it had to do with a boy's relationship with his mother. That was weird, but she never did buy into all that Freudian claptrap. He had insisted that for her to ask him to do that would be like asking him to lick a public toilet seat. That pretty much ended the discussion as far as she was concerned, and she was too embarrassed to ask for it again after that.

The problem was that it ended up being the one thing she began to crave more than anything else. Whenever the hero went down on his breathless mistress in one of her romance novels, it would drive her crazy. On the rare occasion when she'd come across a soft-core movie on cable, seeing a guy with his head between a woman's legs was often too much for her, and she would have to pleasure herself as soon as possible - preferably while watching it happen.

She just decided to accept this one small hiccup in their sex life together, and didn't let it bother her...much. There was more to what they had than his unwillingness to give her head, even as he regularly forced his cock down her throat - no big deal. Their sex together may not have been all rocket launches and fireworks, but it was satisfying enough that she was fine with it. Just the idea of sex with Tom was almost enough for her.

As Wendy bent over to pick up the crumpled beer can Tom had shot toward the wastebin and missed, he slapped her hard on the ass. It stung like hell, and she yelped in surprise. He just chuckled, gave her a kiss, and tweaked one of her braless nipples through her top. That sent tingles all over her body. Was she going to get lucky tonight?

"Feelin' a little frisky?" she said, doing her best imitation of a sultry sex kitten. "Wanna fool around?"

He considered it for a moment. "I was going to watch an episode of 'Cops 'n' Robbers,' then hit the sack." This came with a leering smile as he looked her up and down. "But...I guess I could throw you a bone."

Wendy sighed. Why did he have to go and ruin the moment? Every ounce of horniness she had for him evaporated with that dumb comment and she wanted to punch him in his stupid mouth.

"You know what, that's okay. You go watch your show, I wouldn't want to spoil your night by making you have sex with me."

He began to make a rebuttal, then decided not to give her the satisfaction. He wanted the sex, but he wasn't about to beg for it. He nodded and headed to the bedroom without another word.

No matter, Wendy thought, it would give her an excellent opportunity to use her vibrator later in the living room after he was asleep. She could just cut out the middleman. She could almost feel the lovely way her favorite dildo stretched her tight hole just how she liked it. She smiled, knowing the night was going to be even better than she had hoped.

~ ~ ~

To keep from worrying, Wendy went outside to tend to the flower garden. Tom was away on a golfing weekend with his friends and had been due home two hours ago. He wasn't responding to his phone, as if it wasn't even turned on. She knew there was no reason for concern, he probably just let the battery die again, but she needed something to take her mind off of things, and so nothing like a bit of gardening.

She was pleasantly surprised when she saw her father's Lexus pull into the driveway, and even more so when she saw that her mom was with him. They rarely made the trip all the way out here to see her, and when they did they usually just met up part way at a restaurant.

Wendy brushed the soil off her hands and stood, smiling. That smile faded when she saw the serious looks on their faces as they got out of the car. Something was wrong. She immediately feared the worst. Something had happened to Tom, she was sure of it. But how did they get the news before her? Suddenly nothing was making sense.

"What is it? What happened?" she asked in a near panic as they approached. Her mother just looked pained and didn't speak. Her father cleared his throat.

"Everything is going to be okay, don't get all worked up." Her father always hated how emotional women could get. His dedication to calm control was the only logical way to handle things. That was always frustrating, but never more so than now.

"What's happened to Tom? Where is he? The hospital?"

"Now, now, dear," her mother tried to soothe her, taking Wendy by the arm and urging her toward the house. "Let's talk about this inside. Everything will be fine, but we don't want to make a scene out here in front of the neighbors."

Wendy allowed herself to be guided inside. She sat down on the sofa, wringing her hands as she waited for her parents to give her the bad news...whatever it was.

"Tom is okay," her father began, his scowl betraying his anger with her fiancé. "He called us last night to tell us he had gotten himself into some trouble."

"With the police?" Wendy couldn't keep her mind going in a hundred different directions all at once. It went from the worst-case scenario to an even worse case. She had a little money saved up - would it be enough for his bail?

"He wasn't that lucky," her dad grumped. Mom looked pained and directed a mimed slap toward him as her way of telling him to be nice. "No, he got picked up by the cryptatorship." That was a derogatory term for the megacorporations that had come to dominate society over the past decade or so when cryptocurrency managed to eclipse traditional economies across the globe. Old-school guys like her dad hated the new world order and resented these companies for how they were remaking everything to do with finance and society itself. They were even redefining what it meant to be a person. But, there wasn't really anything they could do about it...except impotently stomp their feet and call them cryptatorships.

"Wait, what?" Wendy was more confused than ever. "Why?"

"He got in over his head, that's all," her mother said, trying to make it sound like nothing, but there was an underlying tone in her voice that she couldn't hide. This was serious.

"Way in over his head," her father stressed. "He was screwing around with the crypto-derivatives market and leveraged his ass over a cliff and into disaster."

"But he was just going to the Carolinas to play some golf this weekend..." Wendy was only getting more confused the more she heard.

"No, he was in Dallas." That alone said it all. Dallas was where all the major crypto companies were based, and where the HEN was centered. The Hyper Exchange Network had come to be the top indicator of wealth and stability in the new economy. Everything revolved around it. It was where fortunes could be made in seconds, and lives could be destroyed even quicker.

If that's where Tom had really gone, that was even worse than any worst-case scenario that Wendy could conjure up. She almost wished they had told her he was in a hospital somewhere. At least then there would be some hope. "But...but what happened?"

"Tom...well, he made some bad bets," her dad equated the new economy to something worse than gambling at a crooked casino. At least when you're gambling, he would say, you have a chance of winning. "He got in deep, then in an attempt to get out of the hole, dug in deeper." Her dad took a deep breath. "Tom got himself possessed."

The air suddenly left the room. That was impossible. Possession was something that happened to other people. Stupid people on the news, or criminals, or greedy men who ran big companies. Not guys like her Tom. Not normal people who never did anything to hurt anyone.

"No," Wendy gasped. "Why are you saying that? What's really going on?"

"I'm afraid it's true, dear," her mom put a comforting hand on Wendy's shoulder. "He called us last night and asked for our help. But we wanted to talk to you first."

"Talk to me? About what? Why? I don't understand what's happening!"

"Settle down, princess," her dad said, resorting to the childhood nickname that infuriated her and calmed her at the same time. "It's just a matter of money - that's all it's ever about."

"Money?"

"Yes, we have the option to buy Tom's contract. Basically, to pay a fee and become guarantors for the debt that he racked up when he was down in Dallas wheeling and dealing like he was some kind of big-shot crypto trader."

"Or what?"

"Or...pretty much, the company owns him until he can work off what he owes. And you know the way they structure those deals he won't be able to do that until about thirty years after he's dead and they sell him for parts. He not only lost everything he has but everything he's going to have for at least the next several years. Do you have anything to drink around here?"

Her father stood and looked around. Wendy went and fetched the bottle of scotch that Tom kept hidden in his desk drawer. She poured him a glass and served it to him neat: "The way a real man is supposed to take his scotch."

"Hmm, good stuff," he commented, surprised. "But, y'know what, he probably did you a favor. It's better you know what an irresponsible loser he is now before you make the mistake of marrying him. He's like a drowning man and will just drag you down with him."

"Daddy, no! Don't say that!" Wendy cried, raising her voice in a way that he'd always trained her not to do. No one likes a shrill woman. "He just made a mistake, that's all. But I suppose you've been perfect your whole life haven't you?" She looked at her mom, hoping for support on that point.

"This isn't about me--"

"There was that thing with the waitress that one time," her mother spoke up quietly, unable to meet his eyes. This was something she'd been holding onto for a long time and was finally cashing in this chip against him for her daughter's sake.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, you most certainly do. Three months after I had Wendy. The slut from the diner. I caught you in the parking lot with her--"

"Not in front of our daughter," he urged.

"She has every right to know that her father has made his share of mistakes. Or was your wife finding you with your pants around your ankles and a bare-breasted hussy not a mistake in your book? You were willing to throw away your family for a little slap-and-tickle in the backseat with a cheap tramp." Her mom crossed her arms and took a moment. "And where would you be now if I hadn't found a way to forgive you and let you have a second chance?"

"That's all I'm asking, Daddy. Just give Tom a chance to prove he can do better. I promise he will, and I'll make sure he does. You just have to help him," Wendy wailed, trying not to push any harder than she had to. "No one ever survives being possessed. You've just got to do something!"

"Now, now, let's not get all hysterical," her father was almost at his breaking point. Wendy did her best to reign herself in. Nothing good would come from her losing her grip, especially not with her dad. And definitely not after the torpedo her mom had just launched at him.

"Dad...?"

"I'll put a call in to my lawyer, and my accountant, and we may be able to get Tom out of this mess that he's gotten himself into. But, if I'm going to put everything on the line for this guy, I need to know it's going to be worth it."