Disclaimer: I own the characters, the setting, and the plot, so please do not use them without asking me first.

Warnings: I portray underage sex here. If this squicks you, please leave.

Number Four-Fifteen

Part I

The world has changed. An Emperor runs everything; he keeps a harem of about five hundred women, all young and beautiful. When they age, they are tossed off to guards, civil servants, and breed more women and men to the the machine. Any girl over the age of 14 is his property, legally. Much of the world lives as peasants used to - not starving, but not comfortable.

Some of the girls are sold by their parents to brokers, who keep them in stores for rich men; the girls are kept in lighted glass booths, often completely naked, though never mistreated. Who wants damaged goods?

The Purchaser for the Emperor comes to the place where I am kept.

\"I\'m looking for a new item, for His Lordship.\"

\"Anything in particular?\" Civil, unconcerned.

\"Not really.\"

\"Virgin?\"

\"Doesn\'t matter, not this time.\"

\"Young?\"

\"Not particularly. Just a new warm body.\"

The virginity of a girl is an important thing, though not the be-all and end-all of her existence. Sometimes \"ceremonies\" are held to impress the public, in which the girl is given as a sacrifice to the Emperor. And virgins always cost more.

The broker leads the Purchaser past the displays of fresh-faced virgins in the front, towards the back where the older specimens, the used goods, are kept.

My glass box is warm. It\'s suffused with a golden glow that makes any shade of skin look healthy and flawless. I have a pallet to sleep on, and a bookshelf with some well-worn paperbacks, though not much else. Life as a woman is effectively reduced to waiting until your next fucking. It\'s all right by me, though. I like sex. I\'ve liked it ever since my parents\' hired help started touching me when I was thirteen, five years ago. I\'d been touching myself for a year already. When my parents found out that we\'d had sex, when I was fifteen and he was twenty, they shipped me straight off to the City. I\'ve had a succession of rented nights - weeks - even a few months as a plaything for one of the richer men in the city - but mostly I\'ve simply been here, watching the customers filter in and out.

The Purchaser is one of the most respected and envied jobs in the City. He chooses which girls are taken to the Emperor. He gets a charge, I assume, out of knocking on the doors of unsuspecting families and eyeing their young daughters, and whisking them off to be just another young face in the Emperor\'s entourage.

The Purchaser standing before me is fairly well-built, though slightly paunchy - getting on in age, soon someone will replace him - and is eyeing me with appreciation. The broker doesn\'t look too happy about having him here; the Emperor gets his girls free. Others pay.

A rich business man makes about 50,000 credits a year. Enough to buy himself a house in the nice neighborhoods of the City, employ a few helping hands, and eat out weekends. A good life. A girl between about eighteen and twenty-eight, depending on her looks, costs a good 100 a month to rent. Discounts for long-term, of course. If you\'re looking for a permanent partner - though, honestly, who is, when you can simply rent a new young face every few years? - it\'s between 10 and 20 thousand one-time payment. I know a few girls who got that. Lucky girls. There\'s a big sign in our establishment: no returns, no resales. Standard practice. If you\'re bought for life, you\'re bought for life. Though how you\'ll be treated, and how long that life is, is still up for question.

Anyways, the Purchaser is now eyeing me with appreciation, and the broker isn\'t too happy. Even though I\'m not too much of a good profit for him, what with being used goods and all, he still doesn\'t like losing good stock.

I can\'t blame the Purchaser for eyeing me. No young thin thing, I am. Richly curved, full breasts and buttocks, and a slight roundness to my tummy that many men claim makes me look fertile. As though I could ever carry a child. City-wide birth control in the drinking water. Gotta have it, when sex is such a commodity.

He\'s eyeing me, and I\'m eyeing him back. I\'d love to get out of my glass box, actually. Comfortable as it is, the books only get changed every two weeks. I imagine the Emperor\'s got a nicer library, even if I\'d have to walk through it naked.

\"Specs?\" he asks the broker.

Broker pulls a clipboard from the side of my box. \"Eighteen. Used. Weight: 145. Height: Five feet five inches,\" he says crisply.

\"Responses?\"

\"Check for yourself.\"

They disappear round the side, and I hear the click of keys in the lock. The door swings open; the Purchaser walks in. \"Come here,\" he says, trying to sound bored, though I think he can\'t wait to touch me.

I take the two steps closer to him, holding my hands behind my back as we\'ve been taught to do.

\"Hands over your head,\" he says. I raise my arms. This pulls my breasts up. He reaches out a chubby hand and squeezes one nipple. I grunt. My pelvis twitches. We\'re supposed to do this, and he knows it.

\"Spread your legs.\"

I adjust my position. Harder to fake is the liquid the trickles towards my clitoris, and that\'s what he\'s checking for. He squeezes the nipple again while placing the index finger of his other hand between the curls of my pubic hair. No rubbing from him; just a steady pressure. I try to rub against him, but he orders me to stand still while he squeezes first one nipple, then the other.

\"Where is she in her cycle?\" he asks. The Broker consults the clipboard, as though I couldn\'t tell. \"Just bled last week. So her responses will be slow.\"

This is true, but I\'m already feeling the heat building. Finally the Purchaser rubs his fat finger along my clitoris, and backwards and up into the vagina. The fluids have gathered, and his finger slips and slides. I want to moan, but if I do, it\'ll look like acting again, so I settle on biting my lip. It\'s convinced many a man that I\'m starting to really be aroused, but that I don\'t want to admit it. They love it. As does the Purchaser. His eyes begin to gleam, and he takes the nipple between two fingers and pinches it hard. More fluids leak out, and these he slides along the clitoris.

\"Please, sir,\" says the Broker, who knows exactly what\'s going on here, \"if we might complete the transaction...?\"

\"Ah, yes,\" says the Purchaser. He removes his hands from my pussy and my nipple, and settles on cupping my breasts, tracing the outlines of my waist and hips, and checking the muscle tone in my arms and legs. I know I\'ve got a great body. Not a typical body, but a nice one to have curled up against you.

\"She\'ll do,\" he says, trying to sound mildly bored, though his erection shows slightly through his voluminous pants.

As we pass through the rows of glass boxes, a few of the regulars wave to me and give me a thumbs up, wishing me luck in this transaction. I wave farewell.

Out in the front of the store, the Purchaser snaps a leather collar on me; the Broker rummages in a drawer for a length of translucent red cloth, which I wrap around myself with experienced hands. The narrowest end goes over my right shoulder, with a foot or so hanging down my back; the rest of the length I wrap tightly around my torso and then let fall loosely around my feet. The broadest end of the fabric is pulled back up and tucked in. It\'s effectively see-through, but a naked woman walking through the streets is liable to be set upon my the first man who sees her. And the red indicates me as used; the collar, as belonging to the Emperor.

The papers are signed, the Broker shakes hands with the Purchaser.

It\'s a short trip from the front door of the Broker\'s to the car waiting for the Purchaser. He holds the door open and I step inside. It\'s a proper car, with tinted windows a driver and a little glass screen separating us from him. The driver raises his eyebrows appreciatively as I step inside.

\"You found a good one, Ed,\" he says to the Purchaser. \"Nice lines.\"

\"Yep,\" says Ed.

\"Bit old for a virgin, ain\'t she?\"

\"No virgin,\" says Ed, his eyes gleaming. The driver chuckles and moves into the flow of traffic.

The interior of the car is pretty nice - a long, unbroken stretch of leather cushion. About six feet long, in fact. I sit on right side of the car, opposite from the driver. Ed squeezes over from his side and puts his arm around me. His hand runs along the curve between my breast and hip.

\"Take that off,\" he says.

\"I thought I was the Emperor\'s?\" I say timidly, reaching for the tuck in the fabric.

\"We just have to deliver you clean. If you\'re already used, how is he to know who last used you?\" Ed chuckles, clearly pleased with his logic.

I give a mental snort. Men.

The fabric is untucked, the folds fall away. I\'m naked on the leather seat of a moving car.

Ed has removed his robes. His erection stands up from his chubby legs.

\"I want to see you masturbate,\" he says. \"Spread your legs - one up against your chest, yeah, that\'s it. Spread the other one out a bit. Yeah. Just like that.\" His hand is wrapped around his cock, and he stares and my fingers, which have found the pulsing nub between my legs and already begun rubbing.

\"Squeeze your nipples, girl,\" he orders. \"Yeah, yeah. t lit like that.\"

The car has stopped; I think we\'re parked on a back road. The driver is watching in his mirror.

\"Tell me what you\'re thinking of,\" he says. Well, I can\'t really be honest, now, can I? But I\'ll tell him what he wano heo hear.

\"I\'m imagining what your cock will taste like,\" I say. He grunts and stiffens; the hand moves a little faster. \"I\'m thinking of how it will feel, filling my mouth; I want to suck you and lick all around it. I\'m thinking of how it will feel when you fuck me, sir. I\'m wondering if you want me on top of you or under you; whether you\'d prefer to fuck me first and then have me go down on you, or the other way around.\" As I talk, my right-hand fingers move rhythmically between clitoris and vagina, spreading the fast-drying moisture around. My left hand is occupied in rubbing my breasts, pinching and flicking the nipples.

\"I want you to suck me, now,\" he says, when he obviously can\'t take more of it.

\"Should I swallow, sir?\" I ask. He grins at the driver, who\'s turned around by now and is, by the movement of his shoulders, also jacking off.

\"Oh, yes, swallow. Don\'t want any evidence.\"

I bend over and take his dick into my mouth. It\'s not very big - five, maybe six inches. A little thick, but on the whole pretty average. I\'ve heard that the Emperor is eight inches long; the rumors say twelve, but if you scale down from that, you get around 8, maybe even 8 and a half.

My ass is now up the air; I hear the snick of the window sliding open between the driver and passenger area, and another click as the front seat is moved out of the way. At least, I presume it was moved out of the way, because otherwise there would have been no room for the driver to position himself so his fingers were in my pussy.

Tableau: Ed sitting on the leather seat, knees slightly apart. Me, mouth bobbing up and down on his cock, his hand in my hair. The driver, whose name I never do learn, behind me with a finger in my pussy.

Two men. Heaven. The only thing better than that is three men.

I bob and suck and swirl. Ed groans and grunts and wheezes. The driver diddles. His finger moves in and out, in and out, and I buck against him until he puts two fingers in. \"Yeah, slut,\" Ed whispers. \"Suck me like that, bitch.\" I look up into his eyes submissively, which is what he wants. The driver does something with his thumb on my clitoris just then that makes me groan and writhe. If he keeps doing that, I might actually come!

Apparently the sight of me groaning around his dick is enough, and with a final shudder, he comes. Spurts of semen, straight down my throat. Swallow, he said, so I do. Every last drop. No evidence.

Then the driver takes his fingers out, and I\'m about to whimper, because they felt so good, when he flips me over so that I\'m slumped against the seat next to Ed, and sticks his dick in me. It\'s long and thin. Oh, God, it feels good. \"You like this, woman?\" the driver says to me, catching my hands in his and holding them over my head. \"You want to be held down and fucked, fucked hard?\"

\"Oh, yes,\" I moan. Which is true. \"Yes, please, fuck me... yes, oh, yes.... yesyesyes...\"

He puts his hands around my waist to adjust me onto him better. I\'m about to pull my hands down and start tweaking my nipples, but he slaps my hands and says, \"Keep \'em over your head, woman.\" I do as he says. I like a man who bosses me around.

Ed, meanwhile, has saunterut out of the car. I suppose he\'s gone to relieve himself.

The driver puts one arm around my waist and, with a massive shift, puts me lengthwise across the seat. Then he pulls my arms up and has me wrap my hands onto the little handle you use to pull yourself into the car. He reaches down, puts his hands around my ankles, and bends my legs up so that my knees are about level my my shoulders.

Then he begins to thrust. Slowly, at first. Oh, so slowly, push-pull, in-out, stretching sensation and my ligaments as he holds me down. I moan.

\"Talk to me,\" he orders.

\"It feels so good,\" I say. \"Your cock in my pussy; like scratching an itch deep down. You\'re holding me down and I\'ve got my arms over my head, and I can\'t move them. I\'m completely at your command...\" The position is making me really aroused. \"Please, faster,\" I say.

\"Are you begging?\" he growls.

\"Yes,\" I breathe. The pressure is building, building deep inside me, like having to pee only it\'s different, and if he just moves a little more...

\"Then beg,\" he says.

\"Please,\" I say. \"Please, fuck me faster, sir. Harder, sir,\" I gasp, and then he\'s pumping into me like a jackhammer, muscles tensed, hands letting go of my knees to squeeze my breasts and my ass; I wrap my legs around him. The world is falling to pieces, and I know that I\'m shrieking my head off, moaning and swearing.

\"Fuck, oh fuck. Yes, fuck... fuck me, just like that... harder... harder, please, please.. yes, oh yes, oh yes... oh, sshiit,\" I hiss, and then I\'m coming, slippery fluid and squeezing muscles and clenching fists.

When I\'m done, he pulls out of me, still hard.

\"Suck,\" he orders. \"And swallow,\" he adds.

It doesn\'t take long. What with the flushed, disheveled girl kneeling across the seat, lapping up her own fluids, and the fact that he\'d been hard already, and fucked me, he comes with just a few up-and-downs and some sultry looks.

\"You done?\" calls Ed from a few feet away.

\"Yeah,\" says the driver.

\"We\'d better get her cleaned up and head back,\" says Ed.

I\'m unceremoniously pulled up from the car seat, feeling like putty. We\'re on a small backroad, with a few trees and a standing tap. The driver grabs a towel from the front, wets it at the tap, and hands it to me to clean myself up.

Minutes later, we\'re back in the car, I\'m fully covered, and Ed and the driver are smirking.