Belle Chapter 1
The cab ride from the shabby motel I'd stayed in the previous night to the gigantic house I was now standing in front of was an unusual experience for me. It took a good half hour just to leave the city from the area by the bus station, then another 15 minutes to reach this guarded community. Atlanta mystified me; it was like a totally different world compared to the small town in Mississippi I came from.
The house was bigger than anything I'd ever seen. It felt like you could fit three normal-sized houses in it and the land it was on was well-maintained with a fence surrounding it. This mansion felt like it was hidden away, even though other similarly sized homes were scattered behind the community's gates.
I'd come to this city two days ago, my 18th birthday, having been given a bus ticket and a suitcase filled with $300 left by my parents. Most of that money was already gone, spent on the motel stay, a taxi ride here, and a few meals.
Having no other options, I had read a newspaper in the grimy bus station to find a job. I knew I needed one or I'd be joining the dozens of homeless people I'd seen on the streets earlier.
Inside the newspaper, there was an ad: "Desired for household work with a couple in a private estate. The applicant must be legal-aged and available for cooking, cleaning, and other services." An email address was provided. Of course, I'd never had the chance to use a computer, and I had no idea how to respond. Luckily, the woman at the motel reception desk wasn't as nasty as I thought she'd be. She helped me send a message, telling her I wanted to work hard and that I could cook and clean. My lack of experience didn't impress them. I'd just been trained by my mom at home. They agreed to let me have an interview anyway.
I was standing right in front of this enormous house when the taxi drove away. Pretty soon, the big front door opened.
"You must be Gertrude Schmitt," a woman said, wishing she'd picked someone else. She did not appreciate what she saw. I couldn't blame her; my old-fashioned dress, buttoned all the way up and down, and my worn but clean material spoke to a rural life. Mother only got me new dresses when the old ones became too small.
"I'm sorry, Ma'am," I apologized.
She introduced herself as Julia Matthews and explained that her husband would be here soon to meet me. They were anxious to fill the position, as he was coming home early from work. I was hopeful that my interview was going well since they were paying attention to me.
Mrs. Matthews was an attractive black woman in her 40s, about 5' 5", and appeared to take good care of herself. Her dark hair was stylishly short, and her brown eyes seemed to shine naturally. Instead of casual clothes, she wore a fitted blouse that exposed her cleavage and a skirt ending at mid-thigh.
We chatted for a while, though it didn't seem like a real interview. Eventually, we both heard a door close in another part of the house.
"Oh, good," Mrs. Matthews said with a hint of relief. "Now, Charles is here."
Mr. Matthews came into the room. I stared at him as he walked in. Then, he looked me over, shook his head, and told his wife they needed to talk. I couldn't hear much of their discussion through the open door. However, I could make out the words "old-fashioned" and "classy" in their conversation.
The top of the door cracked open just enough for me to see Mr. Matthews. "Frankly, she's not what we were looking for," he said, glancing at me disapprovingly. "She's not what we had in mind for our new domestic employee. I can just hear the fallout from our social circle."
"I understand," Mrs. Matthews replied. We both stood there waiting for their decision.
"I think you have a kind heart," Mr. Matthews said after a moment. "There are a lot of things you could work on, but I'm not sure you can be what we want. The pay and benefits are decent. Do you want the job?"
"Yes, Sir," I responded eagerly. "I'll work as hard as I can and adapt to anything you need me to. I just want a chance to prove myself."
"Okay," he grunted, not looking very convinced. "You can start tomorrow."
I went to the nearby house to begin my new job as a housekeeper and cook. Soon, I'd need to tell my mother and father I didn't hate them and forgive their harsh abandonment, praying they'd understand I was trying to take care of myself.
As I left the men behind, they both seemed unhappy with me. But time would tell if they'd given me the opportunity I needed.
"Hold up, Julia, is this the girl we've been looking for?" he asked, his hand gesturing vaguely towards a nearby room.
"I'm not so sure, Charles. We've met how many girls so far? Maybe it's just not meant to be," she counterreplied.
"But, you said you wanted this, too," he argued.
She stepped closer and ran a comforting hand across his chest, hidden beneath his expensive suit jacket. "I do, Charles. Imagine the two of us together. It'd be a remarkable match. But, we've already seen too many women who could work, but then there's something... off. Maybe English isn't their first language or they're just too promiscuous. How else can someone be a great worker and still be a slut?"
"And her?" he asked, waving his hand again in the direction of the other room. "She doesn't seem to be someone we'd want around." She tried to calm him down with a soft touch. "Look at the way she's dressed. It's like she does this on purpose to make us not want her." She comforted him with a light kiss. "Okay, maybe you're right. Perhaps this just isn't working out."
"Then, what's the point of you even being home?" she asked, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards her. "The least we could do is give this girl a shot. I can sense there's something special about her." She knew he was already defeated in his arguments.
*****
When they returned, I met Mr. Matthews (Charles, it turned out). His professional title implied enough wealth to afford their lavish home. He was a black man, about 40-years-old, 6-feet tall with a square-cut physique, short black hair, and intense, commanding eyes.
The duo sat down on the couch opposite the chair in which I sat. Before long, the questions came. My answers were quick, to the point. "No, sir, no degrees, no everything." Mr. Matthews sighed, clearly disappointed. Mrs. Matthews, however, appeared fascinated by my unusual background.
"What about school?" she inquired. "You've never graduated?"
I shook my head. "No, ma'am. It's not that I failed to complete my education. I never had the opportunity. I only learned about housekeeping, cooking, and laundry." They were scrutinizing me.
Mrs. Matthews got excited. "Wait, you've done this your entire life? Your mother taught you? When did she start?"
"I can't really pinpoint a time. I think it was when I was about 10. I then took over most of the housework. I've been doing it ever since." I looked around at the high-end furniture in the house. "It's a pretty large place, but I can handle it." I assured them with a confident smile.
Ms. Matthews pondered what she'd just heard. "But... how could this be? Your parents knew you from the start, yet didn't want you?" She seemed baffled.
"That's what I was told," I confessed. "I don't understand their reasoning. I was given the name Gertrude, which apparently was my great-grandmother's name. Mother didn't care for her. Mother and Father clearly didn't like me, either." They exchanged concerned stares. "No, ma'am, that's not how it works. A name is given at birth."
"How could it be that they disliked you from birth?" she inquired, confused.
"I could only guess. I was told it was that very reason I was given the name Gertrude," I speculated, stumped by the absurdity of it all.
I glanced at my hands in my lap, feeling like I was squeezing wet rags while cleaning floors. I didn't look up. "It's because... because they said I was a... umm... abomination." Tears started forming in my eyes. "That's why," I paused, taking a deep breath, trying to regain control, but the tears still fell. After getting kicked out of my family, I just wanted to forget and start anew. Why were they asking about things I wanted to push aside? I wiped the tears from my cheeks. I then glanced up, and they were both leaning forward, watching me. I took another breath. "That's why I never left my house, wore these dresses. That's why I never attended school or had any friends like my brothers. That's why I'm here. When I turned 18, they put me on a bus to Atlanta with some cash, which almost ran out now. I need this job, Sir, Ma'am. I'll do a great job. I promise."
He showed concern and empathy. "Were you abused, Gertrude? Did they hurt you?" I shook my head and reassured them I was never touched.
They looked at each other. She said softly, "Emotional abuse, yes." He nodded.
He inhaled deeply as if to collect his thoughts. "Alright, we'll save that for later. Let's now focus on the job. Do you understand what the job requires?"
"Certainly, Sir," I answered, relieved to shift the conversation to the matter at hand. "It includes housekeeping, cooking, and laundry... and other stuff like that."
They looked at each other. She said, "We capitalized 'other services.' Did you understand those words?"
"Yes, housekeeping, cooking, laundry, and 'other services.' Maybe you'd need rearranging furniture, sorting out the garage, or weeding the garden."
They looked at each other. "No, dear," she answered. "A housekeeper would do those tasks, but we had more in mind. We wanted a new employee for the job to be interesting."
"Sex," he said abruptly. "Sex, Gertrude. We're seeking someone who can live with us, handle housekeeping, etc., and be willing to provide and receive sex."
"Sex... other services... huh."
"Are you...?" She began and then abruptly stopped. Regaining composure, she addressed me, "Are you a...?" and then paused. She looked between her husband and me. "An innocent submissive virgin?"
He was still concerned yet intrigued. "Gertrude, explain why you lived the way you did."
I was perplexed. "I lived the way I did because it was what I had. My job was what it was. They made me do it from a young age and kept adding tasks. It was what I did."
"Because they told you," she added softly. I nodded. I didn't understand why they considered it to be complex. The situation seemed straightforward. It was what I had and what I was supposed to do. She focused on her husband after that, giving him a bright smile. Her eyes lit up. "An innocent, submissive virgin." Uh oh. "Sir?" I asked tentatively. They both looked at me. He was troubled but intrigued, and then it dawned on him. "Why did they call you an abomination, Gertrude?" She widened her eyes in shock. "Did you just ignore that?" he asked, still unsettled. "A secret would be impossible if you're going to fully serve us." The word "serve" didn't seem to have a different meaning. Mrs. Matthews, however, gave me her full attention and smile again. "A submissive. An innocent submissive virgin." He seemed troubled again. "Why did they call you an abomination, Gertrude?" he repeated.
I took a deep breath and recounted, "I heard it all my life. 'I was nothing'. 'I was an abomination.' I looked it up in the dictionary. I was twelve or so. 'It means: a person or thing that is disgusting.'" The words felt heavy as I said them aloud. Would they feel the same way?
"What's the meaning of that word?" asked Mr. Matthews, pressing further.
Looking down at my interlocked hands, I dared not face them. "I didn't know until about six months ago. I understood what I looked like but I'd been kept detached from everyone and everything. Haven't you figured that out yet?"
"Darling," Mrs. Matthews replied with disbelief in her voice, "but you're beautiful. Don't you see that?"
"You don't get it," I continued. "This is going to ruin everything. I know it."
"Tell us, darling," he insisted. "It's so obvious to us, Gertrude, you are beautiful."
"Alright. Around six months ago, I was making the beds as I always did after the boys left for school and my father went to work. I heard my mother in the shower, so I used the chance to enter their room to make the bed. While doing so, I must have kicked something from the bedside stand. I had to get down on my hands and knees to find it under the bed. I heard the door close, and I froze in horror. My mother would always tell me I wasn't allowed to see her naked. I tried to leave the room, but as I did, she dropped the towel covering her body. She must have heard something because she turned around. That's when I saw it. Or rather, when I didn't see it. She screamed at me. She was so angry. It was then that she said I wouldn't be welcomed back once I turned 18 in six months." I took a deep breath and tried to hold back my sobs as my eyes filled with tears.
Mrs. Matthews stood up and put her arms out to me. I stood and walked into her embrace. She held me, spoke softly to me. I wondered if this was what love felt like. I didn't know. I'd never experienced anything like it before. I knew they wanted me to continue. I sat back down in the chair. She sat beside her husband again.
"Sorry. I'll try again." There was a pause. "Once I realized what was wrong with me, I decided to learn more about it. So, when my mother went out shopping, I went into the boys' room where they had a computer."
"Wait a minute ..." Mr. Matthews blurted out. "The younger boys had a computer, but you didn't?" I nodded. He shook his head in disbelief.
"Carry on," I said. "So, I entered the room to see if I could find out about myself. I even opened the window so I could hear if the car returned. I was never allowed to use the computer. It was hard for me to use it because I'd never done so before, but I'd seen the boys using it sometimes when I cleaned their room. I clicked on icons until one program opened that I recognized. I looked for 'sex', 'male', and 'female', but found nothing. I needed a word for both, and I couldn't think of one. Finally, I typed 'male and female same body' and found a link." I looked intently at them. "Hermaphrodite. That was the term I was looking for."
Mrs. Matthews looked confused. Mr. Matthews seemed to understand the word. "Hermaphrodite?" He looked directly at me. "You are a hermaphrodite?" I was fearful, not knowing if he now considered me disgusting, as well. "Oh my God ..." He talked to his wife, who still didn't comprehend. "Julia, a hermaphrodite is a very rare occurrence ... very rarely found in humans. Some creatures and plants have the features. They posses fully-operational male and female sex organs." He looked at her and then back at me. "You're a real hermaphrodite?"
I nodded, embarrassed. "Yes, Sir. Now you know why I was considered an abomination." Tears rolled down my face. I stood up. "I'll be leaving now. I'm sorry for wasting your time."
Mr. Matthews jumped up suddenly before I could take a step. He placed his hands on my upper arms. "No, Gertrude. Please don't go. Wait. I need to talk to my wife. Give us a moment, please." Yet again, I could hear their voices, but couldn't make out the words.
"My God, Julia," he said frantically, "it's almost impossible in humans, but all it really takes is the formula to add those extra elements at just the right time."
"Charles, what does that mean?"
"If Gertrude is correct, she not only has functioning female sex organs, but male organs, too. That's what she didn't see on her mother. Her mother had no penis." He paced back and forth. She just watched. It was what he did when he was angry and trying to solve a problem. He stopped in front of her and gestured toward the other room. "Those ignorant people mistreated that poor girl her entire life!"
"She's endured this mistreatment her entire life, all because of her natural self." Taking a deep breath, he pounded his palm against his forehead. "Foolish, foolish individuals." He composed himself, looking at his wife. "Did she seem unbothered by the need for sex, didn't she?"
"In actuality," she contributed, "she barely reacted. She's more focused on living a life with everything she's been denied up until now. But I believe her fear stems from what she is rather than anything else."
He nodded. "We need to see her do it."
"Charles."
"If she can, we'll know she can manage the rest. Are we also in accord that we want her?"
"Yes, most definitely, but..." He considered her 'but.' "We might suggest an alternative to ensure she genuinely wants this and it's not desperation." He nodded. "We can find an agency that'll provide housing and aid her in finding a job." He agreed.
* * * *
"Gertrude," he started as they returned to the living room, "perhaps we could find a government agency to help you find housing and employment."
"I knew it," I began sobbing. "You don't want me, either. Why am I like this?"
"No, no," Mrs. Matthews intervened. "In reality, we do want you. We don't want you to make a decision like this out of desperation and hopelessness. We only want you to understand and accept the requirements we're presenting and asking. Committing to having sex on our terms is a big responsibility. We only offered you the idea of another option."
"You truly want me?" They both nodded. "Nobody has ever treated me as you have. You don't see what I am as disgusting? Actually?"
"No," he answered. "But we need to be certain you're prepared for what we expect. We want you to disclose your body to us." My heart started racing. I hadn't shown my body to anyone since my mother stopped bathing me as a child. But I also understood. If I can't do this, how will I learn to have sex? So, I stood up for them and started unbuttoning my dress. He looked at me concernedly and asked if I was sure. I didn't even answer. I felt freer making the choice. Giving myself to them meant distancing myself from my family's influence and judgment. They had discarded me. I'll reject everything they were.
My dress was unbuttoned to the waist. I loosened the belt and continued. I avoided eye contact with them. I might decide to do this, but I was still blushing profusely. My bra was noticeable as my old, plain dress gaped open, so I pulled the bottom of the dress up further. I untied the last buttons and let it slip off me, landing on the ground. I stood there, naked except for my bra and underwear.
Mr. Matthews smiled but still shook his head, though.
"Is there an issue, Sir?" I inquired. I was still concerned they'd reject me at any moment. He kept smiling at me and then motioned his wife to show me. Show me what?
She rose from the love seat and instantly began removing her blouse. There was no hesitation or embarrassment in her actions. I studied her intently. She carefully eliminated the blouse and placed it on the couch. She walked up to me.
"See her bra, Gertrude? See yours? Julia's is attractive and pretty. Yours doesn't bring out your beauty. If you work for us, your look will change. Would you appreciate pretty, attractive attire?" Of course. But before I voiced that, I felt Mrs. Matthews' hands unhooking my bra from behind. It sagged open and she slid the straps off my shoulders. For the first time ever, I had my breasts exposed in front of a man. A rush of excitement coursed through me, an emotion I couldn't define or comprehend. I observed my nipples; they were hardened. What was that feeling? It was intriguing but wonderful.
She was already sitting next to her husband in just her lace bra and bikini panties. She was incredibly comfortable not wearing clothes. As if reading my thoughts, he said, "You see how relaxed my wife is, and you're so nervous. You're doing marvelously, though. I'm happy with you. What do you feel now, dear?"
I stumbled, standing completely exposed. Only my underwear protected me, covered me ... it. "I ... I'm not sure, Sir. I feel something ... a warm rush inside me." They were both beaming. He was proud of me. I felt the warm sensation, once more, simply remembering his words. "I ... I like it, Sir. What is it?"
She responded, "Arousal, dear girl. Your incredible body is feeling stirred up. You could be like us, but we'll allow you some time to adjust, alright?" I nodded in agreement.
They observed me. They waited. Not urging. Just waiting. I inhaled deeply. I noticed my breasts rise on my chest as I did, the nipples hardening. I knew I had to show them. I had to show myself I wasn't disgusting. It's the only way they would understand I truly wish to serve them. It's the only way I'd comprehend they don't view me as repulsive.
I placed my fingers on the waistband of the briefs and slid them down inch by inch. Each inch depleting my resolve, showing them, revealing myself.
When the briefs fell to my feet at my feet, Mrs. Matthew gasped. For a brief moment I dreaded the outcome. Then, "Oh, Charles ... look at her. She's ... oh my God ... isn't she the sexiest thing you've ever seen? And, I think her cock might be almost as big as yours."
She was teasing him, but I couldn't help but contemplate if she was only teasing. I'd never seen a man's penis, merely my own. Penis. Now I was contemplating that moniker.
Her husband stood and started to remove his shirt. She followed suit, stripping down to just her high heels and stockings. She was an inch taller than me, and the heels made her even taller.
"What do you reckon, Charles?" she inquired, standing naked beside me.
He grinned cheekily. "I reckon your breasts are the same size. She could wear your bras."
She put her arm around me and embraced me from the side. Now I'm being embraced by a naked woman ... and I'm naked. She whispered softly in my ear, "Beautiful lady, you need to have your bras expertly fitted to your body. We're gonna have a fabulous time shopping." Fitted bras? I'd never heard of such a thing. Shopping? She'll take me shopping for attire?
He signaled to his wife, and she turned towards me entirely. "We need to verify your authenticity, dear. Can I touch you, is that okay?" I nodded again. She went down on her knees to hold my ... penis? ... penis. It immediately stiffened and thickened. She pressed her lips to the tip. OH MY GOD, I thought. What an outstanding sensation. It was so hard and her mouth was so heated. She suctioned and licked. It throbbed. What was that? Oh, it felt incredible. She pulled her lips off it and twisted her head to her husband as she continued to feather it. "Well ... that's truly real." She chuckled and glanced back at me with a wink.
I glanced at him. I didn't know what to ponder. I was unclothed. What I was supposed to find disgusting, my male penis, didn't faze them at all. Furthermore, she seemed to truly enjoy it.
I looked down at her when she spoke, "Spread your legs, dear." She was caressing the organ behind the penis. That felt great, too. "I need to inspect your ... female parts now," she said.
I spread my legs as instructed. I looked at him. He continued to smile, watching his wife. I felt her digits at my vagina. A finger entered. I gasped and whimpered. Oh ... God ... that ... felt lovely. Her voice reached my attention.
"You're a virgin, correct?" I asked, looking down at her face, upside down. "You're a virgin and undamaged?" I nodded. Her finger explored deeper. She removed her finger and turned to her husband. "Guess what, Charles? Not only a virgin but still intact." I didn't understand what that implied, but they both grinned widely. "And, your wife noticed she didn't need to wet her fingers? She's incredibly wet."
I inquired, looking down at her, "Is that improper?"
"Dear, this indicates your body is aroused. Like your penis stiffening when excited, your vagina moistens when stimulated." She started touching me, once more. I groaned out loud and my legs trembled. "Oh, yes ... I was merely curious if you have a clitoris." She smiled up at me. "That felt good, too, right?"
I nodded vigorously. I'd never felt sensations like this. I think I'll adore sex.
She grabbed my hand and brought me over to Mr. Matthews. "Put your hand on his groin." I did, and winced at the contact. His… member… thing was hard. It was as stiff as mine. "Unbutton his pants," she commanded. I did and removed his pants from his waist. I gazed upon a male organ for the first time. A dark-skinned penis, and it was slightly larger than mine. She hadn't been kidding. "Suck on it, Gertrude. Consider liking it. Good sex is about satisfying your partner." I kissed it. Remembering her licking mine, I did the same. Afterward, I placed it in my mouth and began to suck on it. "How does it feel on your lips?" she inquired.
I reluctantly removed it, "I like it, Ma'am." I cast a glance at him, "I like your tool, Sir." The embarrassment was profound, but I was sincere. My smile returned to his black sausage. I had a vagina like hers and a cock like his. They didn't object. They called me enticing and attractive. They told me I was sexy and beautiful. I wanted to keep sucking on his penis, but she pulled me off.
"If you wish to serve us, you'll say tomorrow," she declared.
"But, Ma'am, Sir, I already know I want to serve you… serve you however you like. I'll be the greatest housekeeper, I swear. I'll learn about sex."
"Tomorrow," he said firmly.
"Yes, Sir," I answered timidly.
"What's your hotel's location, darlin'?" she inquired.
I informed her. "Charles, she can't remain there. It's not safe." He attempted to object but she stopped him with a mere glance. "Take her back to collect her belongings. She'll take up residence in one of the guest rooms."
There was no dissent. "Dress yourself, dear," he suggested. I realized something then. He was a powerful authority figure, but she was not easily dominated.
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