Gromet's PlazaPackaged, Encasement & Objectification Stories

The Jewel Box

by Jo

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© Copyright 2012 - Jo - Used by permission

Storycodes: MF; solo-f; naked; cabinet; glass; display; boxed; brothel; cons; X

I'm just coming out of my bedroom when I nearly collide with Mila.

"Hey, cousin."


She's dressed for work, or more accurately mostly undressed for work with a short, black silk robe over nothing. She heads into the bathroom.

Mila isn't my cousin, neither is Kim - I'm pretty sure of that - just like "Auntie" isn't my aunt. The girls are twins even though their papers have them at different ages. All the girls lie about their age depending on circumstances. The sixteen year olds pass themselves off as twelve or, if the authorities come snooping, then they're twenty. When they came here they were officially sixteen and seventeen, sixteen being the minimum age to work in a brothel. Although that's being changed to eighteen, and they're both legally eighteen, so there you go. I have no idea how old they are, but I'm thinking twenties passing themselves off as teenagers. Mom's thirty-six, but you'd never know it.

Mila comes out of the bathroom and heads into the kitchen. I follow her. I like watching her move in the thin robe - everything jiggles.

The house is a big old thing. Three stories with four rooms on each floor. The women have the third. Mom and I split the second floor rooms, so now we have eight for the girls. I have my bedroom on the first along with the kitchen, parlor and sitting room/lounge.

Mom worked in the States after my dad died. He was a Navy pilot stationed in Okinawa. He got Mom pregnant and did the right thing - married her and brought her to the US. Then he got killed, but the insurance and pension didn't go far, so Mom went back to work. I was only two and don't remember anything about it.

My earliest memory is spending time with "Uncle Tony." I realize now he was Mom's pimp. He specialized in Asians, high class girls, and he treated Mom well. Eventually Auntie came over and the two of them struck out on their own.

Long story short, we ended up in Europe. Mom and Auntie bought this house, hired some girls. A couple of years later the twins showed up. Mom won't let them work, as in "serve" clients, even though they're old enough, she wants them, and me, to break the cycle, but we have to pull our weight. Still I think the twins have a little side action going on.

I tend bar. It's not much of a bar - a few bottles behind a counter in the lounge. The twins are advertisement of a sort.

I follow Mila out of the kitchen and into the foyer. I raise the lid of the glass case and Mila climbs in. She hands me her robe. Man! I could so do her. Maybe it's something genetic, me being half Japanese, but I just love Asian girls. You'd think working in a place like this I'd be drowning in pussy, but with the girls it's strictly business. Some are married or have boyfriends and are "faithful" to them ... okay, if you say so.

The glass box is about three feet on a side. It has a bit of engraving along the edges and a polished brass frame. Basically it looks like an oversize jewelry box.

There's one of those wicker bowl chairs inside, the kind with the round pad. Mila settles in, half sits, half slouches. I hand her the little container and she pops in the opaque contacts. This way she's in her own little world for the next two hours, then it's Kim's shift in the box.

She puts her feet up onto the pad and spreads her knees wide. She reaches between her legs and pulls her pussy lips open. The overhead spotlight shows them pink and glistening slick.



I lower the lid and lock it. We had to install the lock after a drunk client tried to climb in with her one time.

I step into the closet/control room, adjust the lights throughout the house, cue the music. On another channel I cue up the audio book. There's a speaker embedded in the pad. The volume is low enough that you can't hear it outside the box. It gives her something to pass the time. Some of her school books are audio, so if she has an assignment, she can do her "reading" while in the box.

Janelle and Lena come in, say hi, head upstairs. Each girl has her own room. Currently we have six girls and that seems adequate. If things get too busy, Mom or Auntie will help out. Fact is, they both have regulars. Not an everyday thing, but a couple of times a month. It seems to lift their spirits, makes them feel desirable while surrounded by girls half their age. Not that there's anything wrong with either of them, trust me.

While the girls are busy upstairs, I grab my camera and take some pictures of Mila. I have dozens, hundreds of both of the twins, naked in the glass box. Because of the contacts, they have no idea what I'm doing. Never fails to please me. I stash the camera and grab the bottle of cleaner and some towels. Funny, while normally I resist domestic chores, I always enjoy cleaning the glass box  - and I'm very thorough. Could it be because I get to spend some up close and personal time within a couple of inches of a beautiful, naked girl?  Ya think?

I hear footsteps, I put away the cleaner and head behind the bar. It's Janelle. I pour her a glass of white wine. The girls are allowed to drink, but Mom sets limits. We chat about nothing for a bit, then she heads into the parlor. I step over to the front door and flick on the outside light. We are officially open for business.

I walk back through the foyer, glance once more at the girl in the box.



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