had managed to convince himself that he had misheard or
hallucinated parts of the earlier exchanges and was once more taken
aback.
“Where do you keep your stuff? I'll drop you there.”
Courtney hefted the small duffel bag:
“These are all the belongings that are my own.”
Blake nearly exploded:
“Listen, I'm not buying the fact that you are a slave, or a
slut, or whatever you want to call yourself. People just don't do
that! I'm trying to be nice here but my temper is wearing thin, tell
me what the hell is going on or get out of my car!”
Courtney caught Blake's eyes and began to speak slowly, obviously
choosing her words with care:
“Well Blake, it's like this. All the way through high school
and during the couple of years I went to college I kept getting
notations in my file like:
'This student can excel with strict discipline. Without strenuous
restrictions, though, this student becomes a distraction to herself
and others. She excels in a highly regulated environment but is
easily distracted in any other situation.'
Well, when I met a man named Tom three years ago, he offered a way
to help me with the problems that kept generating those notes in my
file. He told me that if I ever wanted an actual highly regulated
environment that he could ensure that my entire life was lived in one
but that I would have to ask him outright for it to occur.
After getting put on academic probation in college, I tried to
buckle down with my classes but I was simply unable to discipline
myself well enough to do so. The end of my next semester had me on
academic suspension and a week after the semester ended, and I knew
that I had to take a year or more off, I found myself on Tom's
doorstep.
I asked Tom to help me with my problems, to help me get my life on
track in a highly regulated environment. He did so, but not quite in
the manner that I had expected. He trained me as a personal slut. I
was so far gone by the time I showed up there that I was grasping at
straws and would have jumped at any chance. He explained how my life
would be after training and it sounded like heaven at the time. It
was simple, all I had to do was whatever my master instructed me to
do. I mean, there were the little things in life that I'd still need
to take care of on my own but any major decisions I would be
instructed in.
I found out much later that what Tom considers 'training' other
masters consider 'breaking'. Personal sluts instructed by other
trainers are allowed to say 'no', leave the lifestyle whenever they
want, or flee a relationship if they feel it is damaging to them. I
would never do any of those things though, I don't think I'd be
capable of it. It goes contrary to my training and to what I wanted
when I asked Tom to train me.
Tom kept me for two years, including my training, until just
recently. He frequently used me as a distraction during the twice
monthly poker game he holds. He told me once that I was the best
student of oral sex he had ever had. He'd had a lot of experience
with it as well so I had to trust him on that. He'd send me under the
table, while they played poker, to work my way around the circle
blowing each guy in turn. He'd take advantage of them while I had
them distracted. No-one ever complained about it though since they
were getting excellent blow jobs and none of them wanted to admit
that a woman could distract them enough to throw their game off.
Well, about a week ago now, Raymond showed up at the poker game.
He was a new attendee, sitting in for someone who couldn't make it. I
couldn't distract him because he couldn't get it up enough for me to
blow him. I found out later that he does way too many drugs and
drinks too much alcohol to get a hard-on. Anyway, he walked out of
there with a couple of grand in cash and me, Tom had used me to cover
a major bet on the final hand of the night.
Raymond expected a miracle out of me. He thought that as a
personal slut I could get him over the abuse he kept putting
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