Surviving Demands Read online

  SURVIVING DEMANDS

  by Candace Smith

  Copyright 2010 Candace Smith

  Published by Strict Publishing International

  PRELUDE

  Harry gripped the Formica counter with his face turning deep red, and rivulets of sweat traveled over his jowls while he forced himself not to let go. His breath wheezed in raspy excitement, while he peeked one more time at the top of the girl’s head before squeezing his eyes closed. As usual, she had her white blonde hair tied back in a braid, and he pictured her green eyes smiling up at him in passionate adoration. He knew they were not, but it was how he preferred to think of her when his small, thick cock jerked into her mouth. Of course, he also envisioned his rod as a monstrous length, and something admired by the other men and desired by the women. He had not actually seen his cock below his ever-expanding stomach, for years.

  Caitlyn rose from her knees, swiped the back of her hand across her mouth, and reached onto the checkout counter beside him for the bag of groceries with her name on it. She forced back her revulsion while she listened to the sound of the fat man’s zipper being raised. God, she hated shopping for groceries, but at least this was the last month Harry was on her list of acceptable suppliers.

  “Always a pleasure doing business with you, Caity,” he chuckled. Yes, it certainly is. The tall young woman’s eyes never could quite hide the anger and humiliation she felt when she paid him. Harry fantasized the look was due, in part, because she desired to stay with him.

  Caitlyn knew that most of the men enjoyed watching the debasing fear the acts of payment caused the women, and she refused to shudder or react to his crass comment. What she wanted to do was hurry back to Sharington and wash the awful man’s taste out of her mouth. The guards in the street closely watched the women shopping, especially when they left one of the stores. If they were caught slipping into an empty alley to vomit, or spitting the man’s discharge into one of the red metal trash bins, they were relieved of the item they had purchased. The women were never allowed to insult the men, so the best reply Caitlyn could manage was, “You’re off my list next month, Harry. I’ve been transferred to Farmtown Market.”

  “Shit,” she heard him mutter, and Harry’s visions of the girl shattered with the reality of the situation, as she pushed through the door and exited onto the sunny sidewalk. The grocer stood at the window and watched the pretty girl’s slender figure while she made her way down the street for her next purchase. In the time before, Harry had a wife who never sucked cock, but since the financial collapse had made grocers a necessary trade, he was serviced sometimes five times a day… and by pretty young women, not the old renditions of youth like his wife had been. He remembered when the spiteful, frigid woman had been ordered out of Sharington, screaming her threats at the Officials, and without the benefit of the lucrative divorce she had been holding over his head for a decade.

  It had been two years, but Harry remembered Caitlyn’s mother had the same nicely sized firm breasts, and hips that promised a comfortable ride. He sighed, because he was fairly certain that enjoyment with Caitlyn would be lost to him. The girl went out of her way to try to hide her attributes behind faded, oversized clothing, and preferred to meld into the background of their new society rather than exploit her assets for the few luxuries the women were allowed. As far as Harry knew, Caitlyn had never signed any commitment contract, so the chances of her signing an obligation to serve him for a week as payment for a refrigerator with an icemaker, or even spreading those sexy tanned legs once for a roast, were slim.

  Caitlyn had only been his third customer since he had opened, and when Harry looked at the empty sidewalks, he realized dismally that very few women had traveled to town to shop that day. The grocer eyed the girl in the drycleaner’s window across from him, and although she was not one of the exceptionally pretty ones, she did have a week left before her commitment contract for the sewing machine was up.

  Harry’s brother ran the shop that offered washers, dryers and sewing machines, and Sam was not averse to sharing the women willing to assign themselves to pay for such luxuries. Sam enjoyed watching the women’s revulsion when he forced them to service his grossly overweight brother. When the women signed for their conveniences, they expected to only have to submit to Sam, a skinny man with meek tendencies… except for his propensity towards voyeurism. How he loved to watch their eyes widen with disbelief when he told them to bend over for Harry. And it was not as if contracted women had anyone to complain to about the additional payment.

  Caitlyn thought the worst thing about going to Mantonville was that it always reminded her of when the sadistic arrangement began. Her first scheduled payment had been less than a week after the lists had been posted by the men, along with the horrible rules that had secured the women’s fate. She had followed her finger down the long lists, and the situation had become frighteningly real when she found her name next to an assigned apartment. For a few days, Caitlyn had walked by the house, and she had watched the workers finish adding the dividing walls and doors, until the night she was scheduled to meet her landlord for that term.

  She stared blankly at the house and had wanted to run, but everything had changed and there was nowhere to go. The houses not being converted to apartments were being stripped of furnishings and appliances before workers dismantled and salvaged useful building materials, and finally burned the remaining rubble. Her own home, the one she had grown up in with her mother and father and conveniently located on a quiet cul de sac, would meet that fate now she was moved out. The girls Caitlyn had spoken with were afraid and unsure of what power the men intended to wield over them in addition to the rules of punishment that Caitlyn had memorized… rules that had saturated her thoughts with terror.

  That first man, the one who waited in her new quarters to collect her rent, was Tommy Shapiro. For three months, until a new list was posted, he would be her landlord, and he was not going to be denied his due. He waited inside, this man she had barely seen when her mom used to drive her through Sharington when it still was part of the city. He was a man who, along with his brothers, had owned the largest real estate company in town, and sometimes he had shown up at the city council meetings that Caitlyn’s mom liked to bring her to, so that she could see how the government was run.

  Caitlyn somehow managed to move her feet forward, and she was already crying when the door was opened. He stood there… that man… sipping a glass of dark wine, in the one room that was to be her new home. He put his hand on her shoulder and Caitlyn barely registered its weight as he pulled her inside, despite her shaking. She had been guided towards a couch by the wall, but her eyes had not left the small gold and black pin on his dark sweater that read ‘Mantonville Official’. No, she had kept her eyes focused on the glittering reminder that he and all the men like him now owned her world.

  She shook… god how she was shaking. She was certain she could hear her knees banging together, and every joint in her body loosened. The words he spoke came to her in a deep blurring slur, and seemed to echo through the back of her head instead of her ears. Caitlyn could only silently cry as she stared at the badge that crushed with its power. She wanted to plead, to scream and maybe strike out at him, but the rules and punishments swam in her eyes with her tears. She merely stood, petrified, before the man with the gold and black pin.

  Tommy Shapiro reached for her buttons… while she shook. He folded her loose dress in half, and laid it over the back of the sofa. Caitlyn trembled before the man, stripped to her bra and panties, and she was relieved she was finally able to force her eyes closed so that she would not have to stare at the badge any more. Her bra was slipped free and her panties were removed, and she stood naked and quivering with her ha
nds clenched into tight fists and her eyes squeezed shut, in the new apartment she had not even looked at.

  His hands reached out and gently cupped her breasts, and he stroked her quivering tight peaks. Caitlyn’s tears fell from her lowered lashes, but she had not offered protest or moved, other than her trembling. The list of rules… the terrible, obscene rules that were etched into her mind as she had read them hundreds of times over the past week, were very clear about the frightening penalty of denying payment for services and supplies.

  At some point, her tightly clenched fists had caused her nails to dig into her palms. She concentrated on that, on the feeling of their digging, and tried to picture the little half-moon cut bruises they were making. The tiny marks were almost real behind her closed lids, and his hands now caressing her breasts and brushing her tummy to go towards her… her nails dug deeper, demanding her attention away from the man. Away from Tommy Shapiro, who had slipped a finger between her private lips, a place where even Bobby Arnold had not been allowed to touch her.

  The finger was stroking… stroking while she shook and tried to think of her nails digging into her palms. The hands stopped and pushed down on her shoulders, and in stunned smoothness she dropped to the knees that were banging together and did not really want to support her any longer. Something brushed against her lips… something soft, with a leaking wetness that tasted like salt on her tongue when she had nervously swiped it off her lips. The softness, spongy and warm, was guided by a turgid shaft that pushed into her mouth… while Tommy Shapiro wrapped his hands around her head, and pulled her towards him.

  Her nails dug deep until she was sure her fingers were breaking, and her knuckles were scraped from brushing the rough carpet. A smell… man’s musk, deeper than the smell of Bobby Arnold when he used to hug her… mixed with cologne and accompanied the salty sponge in her mouth. It was moving, pushing in and out, but only sometimes distracting her by letting the stiff rod that propelled it drive it too deep. Time was lost, as she shook, dug her nails, smelled the man… and devoured his cock until it spurtrf onto her tongue, gagging her with the sticky salt load. She swallowed it all as the rules had demanded, feeling her stomach protest with retching cramps.

  It was over. The man’s echoing voice still murmured words through the back of her head, but she heard the zipper rise, and it was over. She remained naked and kneeling, but opened her eyes and stared at the gold and black badge again. It was a badge her father now wore, as he sat in her single chair by the table and watched. This was a part of the scene that Caitlyn tried to block out… a horrible memory of her father witnessing her first defilement. Caitlyn had dropped to the rough carpet, curled into a ball, and shook and cried while the men left.

  For the next horrible act she had held out three weeks, until she had finished the last of a can of soup that she had stashed in her backpack and had stretched to four meals. Reluctantly making the trip to town, Caitlyn suffered the indignity of being strip searched at the checkpoint by two boys she had graduated from high school with. This was the new requirement to enter and exit Mantonville, and Caitlyn discovered the guards had their own penalties handed down to them by the Officials. They never spoke or did more than they were allowed, and Caitlyn did not have to touch them. They were not permitted to grope or slide their hands over her body, more than what was necessary to ensure she was not hiding contraband. She had walked to town, not yet able to face payment for taking the bus. Back then, Caitlyn could not force herself to do that, and she had made the three-mile trek on foot. That was before she realized the cost of new shoes.

  The acceptable food supplier for the first three months was the store she had shopped at for years with her mom. It was Harry’s store, and perhaps the fact that he was back on her list the past few months had made the old memories resurface so much clearer. The first visit to the grocer, Caitlyn walked by the glass door several times before finally summoning up the courage to walk inside and pick up the prepackaged bag with her allotted items for the week. Although not specifically outlined in the rules, the women learned that the grocers only prepared one bag at a time for them. That made it impossible to wait two weeks and make one payment for two bags of groceries. The only way to avoid payment was to starve.

  Caitlyn had seen Harry watching her, narrowing his eyes with building excitement while she put off the inevitable act of payment as long as she could. She had tried to console herself with the knowledge that the rules said she could stay clothed and that she would not be subjected to groping. All that was required was to merely kneel before the man… or under his expansive belly… and get it over with. It did not even say she had to stroke him or enhance the act in any way. His cruel eyes had stared with sadistic pleasure at her humiliation, and he had sneered at her tears with none of the slight compassion Tommy had shown her while he pumped his meaty organ into her trembling mouth.

  Since then, Caitlyn had worked to restrain her anger towards the men, so that she could avoid the punishment some of her friends had been subjected to for breaking one of the posted rules. She had learned to trick them and to apply little methods to make them cum quickly. When she lightly stroked their sacks until they stretched tightly, or flicked her tongue along the ridged vein, the men thought she was gifting them a special treat, whereas she only wanted to complete the payment swiftly.

  Caitlyn continued down the street, and the residual taste of the grocer began to grip her stomach with disgust, so she finally ripped a small piece off her last stick of gum to get the salty shadow of remembrance out of her mouth. She tried to ignore her own remark about transferring to Farmtown Market, because where Caitlyn shopped did not really matter. It seemed that all of the grocers indulged in the shipments before the food made it to the women, and most of them were disgusting, fat slobs.

  A pebble had worked its way into the hole in her shoe, and her foot jammed down onto the sharp edge. She looked down at her sneakers and sighed, “Damn. Might as well get it over with.” Even the cardboard she had ripped from the bottom cushion of her dinette chair to line the sole was wearing thin, and socks were a luxury she refused to pay for.

  She pulled her list of acceptable merchants out of her pocket, and decided that she had two choices. One required a bus ride… with the payment of oral sex each way to the driver or one of the bus monitors who made sure the women did not stray. The other was three blocks away, but carried lower quality shoes that would have to be replaced sooner. Of course, they would not cost as much either, so she decided to walk to the closer store, and hopefully save her jaws two workings.

  The man running the store was older, and his two employees were busy helping other customers. He looked down at her sneakers and said, “The tops are still in good shape and your laces are fine. I’ve had a busy morning, so how about I just dip new soles onto them for a little stroking.”

  “That would be great, Leonard. I really appreciate it.” Caitlyn forced a smile, and while the man dipped the bottoms of her shoes into the quick drying rubbery substance, she stroked his limp penis and loose balls, receiving a quivering, jerking response. The man probably could not get an erection, but he did not want to be forced into retirement.

  Leonard blinked back rheumy tears as he worked on the young woman’s shoes, while her fingers gently brushed along his cock, squeezing comforting pauses before lifting his aged hanging sack. She was one of the good girls, one who had not tried to manipulate him with promises of extra payment for the higher quality sneakers, or the flashy heels that were gathering dust due to their impracticality. The last pair had been commissioned over a year ago, when he could still perform. Now, Leonard was getting nervous, and wondering how long it would be until the self-described ‘real men’ of Mantonville forced him out of his shop.

  Leonard was part of a growing group of aging men, secretly meeting and trying to figure out a way to present their idea without being discovered. He had been widowed when the change happened, and dating a nice older woman. The nervous men wanted
to ask the Officials… those virile men of Mantonville who had designed those lascivious rules and lists… if they could take one of the discards, a woman deemed too old to stay in Sharington, and live out their days with the comfort of companionship. That was what was missing now… the normalcy of coming home to one woman, sharing thoughts and ideas, and holding each other through the long lonely nights of this dark episode.

  It amused him slightly that at seventy-three he was a radical. He was one of the men who did not think the women were to blame, and was not afraid to let them come into Mantonville and have the freedom to form a relationship. This was against all that the Officials stood for, as they had convinced themselves that the women were devious creatures, and the longest period they were allowed to stay in the city… or in the service of one man… were the commitment contract periods. Another rule stated that a woman could not sign a second contract with the same provider. Leonard sighed with regret, and decided the rules would probably not change until the leaders were in his position. He checked the resistance of the new rubber after adding an extra dip for the sweet girl, and handed Caitlyn her sneakers.

  She looked at the park square clock as she walked back onto the sidewalk. “Damn.” It was almost three and she had to run on her newly soled sneakers to get back to the Mantonville parking strip before Betty was forced to leave without her. It would mean Caitlyn could keep all of the groceries, but she would have to make payment to one of the awful bus monitors for the ride home and probably lose Betty as her driver. The few women who had earned cars could be selective in choosing the passengers that would share their groceries, and if Betty had to return to Sharington without her food, Caitlyn was sure she would be replaced next week. It was nothing personal… it was just the way things worked now.

  Exhaling a relieved breath when she got to the lot, Caitlyn saw Betty waving frantically from the side of her ten year old coupe. It had cost her friend one month’s service to the salesman, and Caitlyn figured that she would eventually grow tired of paying the mechanics. The thing broke down regularly… but not today. Caitlyn climbed in and grabbed the extra bag from the backseat, and divided her groceries, which was payment for the ride. Caitlyn had never been able to force herself to sign a commitment contract for any of the luxuries the women could earn.