Initiation

This story is purely fiction (sadly) and is the sole property of the author (me). It includes sexual acts between older males/younger females, younger females/younger females, and younger men/younger female. All characters depicted are at, or over, the age of 18. Feedback is welcome.

Initiation, Part I

Looking around the small apartment, I felt a settling of my heart as it sank deeper into disappointment. Apprehensively, I placed my expensive luggage on the floor and walked over to the bed, my designer heels sinking into the worn, ratty carpet. Covered in mysterious stains, the mattress didn't seem too inviting. The walls were a pale shade of mustard yellow, the furniture literally falling apart—the chest with its missing drawers appearing for a moment like a crooked grin, the chair's cushion sagging inward, the paint peeling from the walls.

My determination began to slip as I further examined the rooms. Was proving my father wrong really worth all this? Moving from the family estate in Vermont to this small scale, cheap apartment was a blow to my pride like nothing else. I just can't do it, I thought. I'll give daddy a call and come straight home, and take a shower. A light went off in my mind. Shower. I wonder what the bathroom is like here. I put my hand on the curtain to the bathroom, but paused. On second thought, I'll let it disappoint me later. The bedroom was enough.

Walking over to the window above my bed, I sighed and expected a brick wall. It would match the rest of the place, I thought. Yet when I pulled aside the curtain what I saw was breathtaking. Above the small, two story townhouses and stores was a towering structure of red brick and Palladian windows, with curved iron gates and a stately campus yard. In my hurry to leave my home, I neglected to even ask what college my father was sending me to. After my fight with him, I just wanted out. I was determined to make it here, without his money or his connections. It's true that he did get me into this college, but it was prior to our fight — yet everything else was now my responsibility.

Feeling better, I began to unpack my clothes and settle into my new 'home'.

~

Two weeks later I was getting nervous. I couldn't find a job, and most jobs I couldn't do. I just wasn't cut out for hard labor, and didn't have the connections to get the jobs I wanted. My money was running low — or, more to the point, was gone. A cold chill went up my spine when I thought that, soon, I'd be expected to pay my rent. I didn't have the cash. I knew how people were handled in this apartment building when they couldn't pay rent. My cheeks flushed when I thought of paying for anything with sex. How could anyone do that? I thought as I climbed into the shower. Honestly, how little respect they must have for themselves. I rubbed my hands with the soap, then worked the lather into my skin—over my shoulders, my neck and breasts, then down my stomach to my pussy. I rinsed and wrapped myself in a fluffy towel and picked up my toothbrush to brush my teeth, but quickly dropped it at the pounding on the wall. I calmed myself when I realized it was only my neighbor's headboard as she 'paid her rent'. I'd heard her sleeping with other men before, and could quickly tell the difference between the moans. She was definitely faking it, I thought as I popped the toothbrush into my mouth, then didn't give the noise another thought.

I climbed into my bed and closed my eyes, but couldn't sleep for all the thoughts in my head. I'd be starting college soon, and then I could join a sorority and get out of this disgusting apartment. It was then I heard the knock at my door. I threw the covers off of my body and searched for something to put on. Still unaccustomed to the apartment, all I could find in the dark was my towel. I wrapped it tightly around myself and peered through the peep hole in the door. My landlord, the deplorable slob, was waiting on the other side, still breathing hard and sweating from his last collection of rent. I opened the door a crack just wide enough to stretch the chain lock.

"What do you want?" I asked. The man was physically repulsive. He always looked dirty and sweaty. His clothes were torn and filthy, his beard a shaggy mess which would match his hair, I was sure, had he any.

"Yer rent's late, yer Highness." He bowed as he spoke. Is this slob taunting me?

"I'm aware of that. I'm still in awe that you managed to realize it. I'll have the money by the end of the week." With that, I attempted to close the door, assuming the conversation was over.

He stuck his foot over the threshold. "You'll have it tonight." He wrapped his large fingers around the door and pushed, and I pushed back. I was thankful the chain was in place, keeping the door in the same position. He was tired and wearing out quickly, but his lungs worked fine as he drew in a great breath and cursed me for all to hear. My cheeks flushed at his words and I fell away from the door momentarily in shock, then applied more pressure than before. The door slammed shut on his foot, forcing it out of the threshold. He collapsed on the floor outside my apartment, passed out from vodka and exertion.

~

I found a job as a waitress, which proved to be one more blow to my ego. All the nice restaurants required experience, so all that was left to me was a sleazy bar and grill where all the female waitresses wore these ridiculous uniforms. The skirt was so short, if I had a mirror to examine myself in I would be sure to discover that it showed a good quarter of my ass. The shirt was tight and low cut, causing my DD breasts to spill over the top. If I pulled the bodice up to cover my breasts, my ass was left bare and if I pulled the back of the skirt down, my pussy was exposed. I struggled with the thin, cheap material for a few days, but soon I just didn't care anymore. As a word of comfort, a fellow waitress assured me that "after a while I won't even care when the old men grab my ass or tits." I got a chill even thinking about that day.

I always came home from work and peeled off my panties first thing. They always felt so awful to have against my skin, like I could still feel those strangers' fingers pushing the material aside and trying to feel my ass or shaved pussy. I wouldn't have to put up with it, of course, if I worked at a fancy joint, but this place only gets the desperate of the desperate, and we're all made to sign a contract that, among many other things, states we will not react negatively to any actions of a customer while working. Even the manager could do what he wanted, supposedly as long as he did not touch one of the employees, yet on more than one occasion I had to hold my tongue as he pushed me up against the cheap wooden door of his office and fingered my pussy. It's really a simple equation – we need money, there's no work but here. It's either their fingers or my landlord's cock.

Needless to say, I'd had a rough week. All I wanted to do was get in my apartment and take these damned panties off. When I came to the apartment's front door, I started my way up the stairs and found my landlord in the doorway of his own apartment. He glared at me and grinned with this yellow grin that made my stomach turn. He looked me up and down, focusing on my tits as I walked past and I'm sure my ass as I walked away. He stood under the stairs and watched me walk up, gaining a generous view of what lay under my short, transparent uniform's skirt.

"I hate that man," I muttered to myself as I jerked down my panties and turned on the hot water for my bath. "I hate all men."

I didn't hear him come in over my bath water running. I was bent over the sink, washing the makeup off my face. My designer makeup ran out weeks ago, and now here I was wearing this cheap mass-produced junk.

He stood behind me for a long time; I suppose enjoying his view of my shaved pussy, spread for his eyes as I stood bent over the sink. The feel of his hands on my hips and the unfamiliar feeling of his bare crotch against my backside made me jump as if I'd been burned. I tried to turn around, but he held me still. All I could do was look at his crooked grin in my bathroom mirror as he rubbed himself against my pussy, his coarse pubic hair feeling strange and sickening against my soft pink flesh. I opened my mouth to scream as he cupped his hand over my chin and mouth. The taste, the smell of his hand was enough to send my senses reeling in vile disgust. My pussy was wet naturally from the long day, making it easy for him to slide into me. He held my head close to the mirror, his hand still cupped tightly over my open mouth muffling my screams as he thrust hard in and out of my tight cunt. He enjoyed the look in my eyes as he fucked me. He began to thrust into me harder and faster, and I was scared to death thinking he would cum in me. What would I do if this bastard got me pregnant? I tried to bite his hand as he worked me harder, pressing my hip bones against the porcelain sink, sending new shocks of pain through me. I could see his sweat beading on his brow, the bulk of his body weighing him down as he quickly became tired. He sacrificed speed for force as he rammed into me hard enough to press my face against the mirror. I heard a splashing as the tub overflowed onto the tiled floor of my apartment. I searched for something within reach to use for self defense, but my arms were painfully pinned to the sink. He removed his hand from my mouth and dug both hands into my ass as he fucked me. Suddenly he pulled out and held his cock in his hand, jerking himself off on my pussy and ass. I closed my eyes and licked my dry, cracked lips, shuddering at the taste his palm left there.

When he was finished, he placed the head of his dick at the base of my spine and slid it downward between my ass cheeks to my cunt lips, smearing his cum over my body. I stood upright, no longer pinned and jerked away from him to face the wall. The water kept drifting over the rim of the tub into the floor, but the fact barely registered.

"Ya better clean that shit up before it leaks through the whole damn place," he said, as if nothing had happened. Then his voice changed to a more meaningful tone as he said, "Or I'll be takin' it off yer rent."