Pretty much

It takes four hours to get Riya moved out of the dirty motel room and into her tiny new quarters. Longer than I initially predicted, because in the process of moving my new servant, I discover that she had pawned her jewelry a few weeks before. That was back when she thought her financial troubles were just a temporary misunderstanding, now she is on the verge of not being able to make her weekly payment and losing all of it. No wonder she's so ****.

For just $620, at a sleazy pawnshop in South Hartford, I am able to redeem a heavy bag of bracelets, necklaces and all sorts of other jewelry. Many of the pieces glittered with diamonds, rubies and all sorts of other semiprecious gemstones. I'm no expert, but there must be close to $10,000 of jewelry in the bag, and the scumbag in the pawn shop gave Riya just over $500 dollars when she pawned it. Asshole.

“I hate pawnshops.” I offer as we head back to my car, “They're like cockroaches that feed on the misfortune of others.”

“Thank-you for doing this, Mr. Patterson.” Riya's uncertain smile warms my heart much like Alison's bright smile used to. It is clear that this jewelry means more to her than just its monetary value and if I didn't have her before, I most certainly do now.

“I'll be the best personal servant ever, Sir.” She smiles tentatively at me from the passenger seat. “Even better than Alison was. In every way, Mr. Patterson.” Riya presses her palms together under her chin in what looked like a formal, maybe even religious, gesture. “I'll do anything you want; I promise.” Before she forgets her promise, I place my hand on her thigh and squeeze it boldly.

“I can't wait to try you out, Riya.” As if my hand high on her leg is not enough, I make it clear that I plan to take her up on her promise as soon as I can. Her soft hand covers mine, but she doesn't try to move it, not even when my fingers curl into the gap between her thighs.

“You'll have to show me what to do, Sir.” This time it's clear that Riya _is _talking about sexual experience, not cooking or cleaning. “The most I've ever done is give a man a blow job.” Her breathing is shallow and rapid, and she's having trouble getting her words out as my fingers rub the seam of her jeans right at her pussy. “But I'm willing to learn, Mr. Patterson.”

“Wait,” even after everything I've learned about her, I'm still a little surprised to learn that this unfortunate thing is this still a virgin, “none of your boyfriends ever got to pop your cherry?”

“No, Sir.” Riya is more nervous than ever, “is that alright?” Of course it is alright, I just didn't expect to get that lucky. She wouldn't be the first girl who put off her eager young suitors by using her mouth, but it doesn't sound like she had much practice at blow jobs either.

“So, tell me about the lucky boy who got you to suck him off.” I continue to rub her jeans, and I can feel the heat and dampness starting to come through the thick material. “Was he your prom date maybe?”

“It wasn't a boy, Mr. Patterson, it was my Maths lecturer.” As we drive home, Riya relates how her teacher had groomed her for the first couple months of her 11th year and then driven her to a chess tournament in Mumbai. After she was knocked out of the tournament, he took her out to dinner and then driven her to a secluded beach to watch the sunset. “It didn't take long before we were kissing, and he had his hands under my skirt. I would have done anything he wanted by that point, Mr. Patterson.”

“Even let him fuck you?” I asked, secretly pleased to learn she had a history with an older man, “I'm surprised he settled for just a blow job, you must have done a pretty good job if he was satisfied with just your mouth.”

“Oh, I'm sure he planned to make love to me too,” Riya moans softly as her hips rock against my fingers, “but by then it was late, Sir, and we made plans to meet up in his flat the next day.” Clearly that meeting never took place.

“What happened?”

“Apparently, I wasn't the first student that Mr. Patel had done this kind of thing with.” Riya pauses for a second biting her lower lip between her white teeth as she shudders with pleasure. “When the headmaster found out about our trip to Mumbai, he got sacked and I was sent to counseling.” After another short pause, Riya asks what we are both thinking.

“How long until we get to your house?”