An adult stories – Emmy’s Adventures Pt. 03 by beygaze1
The Association was the shorthand for a group with a very long name. It had been founded in the years before the Civil War as a source for White sex-slaves. With the 13th Amendment the Association removed the “White” qualification and became a fully inclusive sex slave regulator. It existed hidden, with many powerful people secretly members and owners. It thrived in the wide open days of the late 19th century, but had to maintain a low profile as they were threatened with exposure in the 1920s. One of the reforms that came in the 1920s was the requirement that all new slaves must be enslaved voluntarily and sign official papers saying so. “Voluntarily” was never clearly defined, only that the signatures were really hers was important.
Thursday, May 25, 1978
1-Waking Up and Signing Papers
Emmy stirred. She looked out the window and saw rain. No reason to go out. An ache in her pussy reminded her of last night. She had had sex and she had lost her virginity to the man of her childhood dreams. She ached all over, really. Every muscle had been tensed last night; every bit of her body had felt the pleasure.
But, Chester Bradley wasn’t here. He hadn’t gotten sick of her already, had he? Run off to some work meeting, or whatever excuse she saw men use in the movies. No, he was cooking. She could smell bacon, her stomach rumbled. A few other bodily functions required attention, too, and the beautiful young woman hurried to the bathroom. The closest one was right off the bedroom and featured a full makeup table. But, she had more immediate needs. Emmy was not too surprised to see that he had a padded toilet seat. She enjoyed the novelty of sinking down as she sat down. He certainly enjoyed the little pleasures in life.
As she used the toilet, there was a gentle knock on the door.
“Go ahead and shower,” he told her. “Take your time, dear.”
“Yes, Sir,” she answered, thrilled at the sound of his voice.
Emmy was pleased to find that this bathroom was well stocked with feminine bathroom supplies. There was cold cream, which she used to remove the rest of her makeup from last night, and all sorts of moisturizers and soaps. She had not seen many of these and played around with various combinations as she enjoyed a long, hot shower. He had much better water pressure than she had at home. and she enjoyed how it worked on her tired muscles.
When the curvy blonde finished with the shower, she rubbed moisturizer all over her young flesh. She wanted to be desirable for Sir, for everything to be perfect. She added a light layer of makeup, highlighting her green eyes. She decided to wear her hair down.
Since there were no clothes, all she had was the dress from last night and was not sure where that was, she came out of the bathroom naked. Besides, it was not like she had any secrets from this man. Emmy put her hair in front, covering her breasts. She looked at herself in the mirror like, then with her hair in the back and boobs out. She decided to go with boobs out, offering herself to him again whenever he wanted her. Hopefully. after bacon.
Chester Bradley was in the kitchen, facing the stove and putting the finishing touches on whatever he was doing. He was fully dressed in jeans and a tight t-shirt. Emmy took a moment to look him up and down, she figured she had earned the right. And he filled out those jeans great.
“Good morning, Sir,” Emmy said perkily.
“Afternoon,” Chester Bradley corrected. “It’s already 3pm.” He looked over at her and smiled. “You are as beautiful as last night.”
“Thank you, Sir,” she beamed at the compliment.
“Have a seat,” he motioned to the table. “It will be finished momentarily.”
“Sir?” she said.
“Yes, Dear?”
“Thank you for, for last night. It was all I could have wanted for my birthday.”
“It was, and I mean this truly and honestly, my pleasure,” he brought two plates to the table. The tall man sat one in front of her and the other in front of himself. Emmy was once again struck by how handsome he was, that broad chest, those chiseled features…
“Sorry for being naked at the table,” Emmy apologized. Her mother would not approve. “But I don’t have anything else here.”
“I like you better this way,” he said. “Eat up, we still have nine more hours of your life transforming eighteenth birthday.”
Chester Bradley had cooked up a delicious looking omelet with a side of bacon and toast. There was a glass of orange juice and a cup of coffee beside it. It smelled great, too, and with a nod of approval from her host, she dug in. She did need to add a bunch of cream and sugar to her coffee, she was not ready to take it black, yet.
Once they finished the omelets, the older man cleared the dishes and brought out a cupcake with a single candle on it. Pulling out a Zippo, he quickly lit the candle.
What happened next helped to restore some of Emmy’s faith in the balance of the universe. Up until now, Chester Bradley had been perfect. The flawless man: considerate, strong, well hung, great in bed, rich and so on. While he might be a man of many talents, singing was not one of them. Emmy had heard “Happy Birthday” sung many times, but she had never heard it sung like this. It was like Chester Bradley only knew how to sing one note and he sang that one badly.
As bad as it sounded, it was still a wonderful gesture and meant the world to Emmy.
“Make a wish!” he said.
Emmy wished to be enslaved by Chester Bradley, then blew out the candle.
Emmy tried to be dainty when she ate the cupcake, but with the icing piled as high as it was, some inevitably got on her nose. Chester Bradley gave her a napkin to clean up with then brought a stack of papers to the table.
Emmy was not sure where this was going. She was about to graduate and done with all her classwork, so should not have any homework.
Chester Bradley brought down a bottle of Jack Daniels and poured two glasses, neat. The only other alcohol, aside from sips of wine at the holidays, she had ever tasted was the glass of champagne and wine the night before. But, when he raised his glass to toast, she followed along. When he drank his all in one gulp, she did the same. When he calmly set his glass down, Emmy collapsed into a fit of coughing. That was horrible tasting! It hit the omelet and cupcake in her stomach, and it took all of Emmy’s willpower to keep everything down, but she managed.
Once her coughing fit had subsided, she looked up at the patient eyes of her lover.
“Now,” he said in a businesslike tone, “let’s talk about your future and your college plans.”
Emmy realized that she had never planned for college. Her parents had been completely unworried about, too, for some strange reason. It was not that she intended to skip college, the part of her brain that should have been worried about and working on that, just did not activate. When her brother went off to the Air Force Academy, there had been years of applications, interviews, and campus visits. For her, none of that.
“I haven’t made any,” she said. This part began to feel like a combination of bad dreams: she was being quizzed about her life while naked.