Rule of Thumb Pt. 01 - Sex Stories

Rule of Thumb Pt. 01

... in which I found you. Or more accurately, when you were caught by Mrs. Lester fucking on school property, literally.

"Claire, without a profession, and more critically, without self-restraint, I'm very concerned that you will succumb to your base instincts. Before that happens by accident, I'm going to do you the favor of providing a practical demonstration of the consequences."

"Claire, men will continue to be sent to you frequently, singly

and in groups. Your masochism will continue to be developed and you will live as a sex slave of my House. You are scheduled to begin nursing school in the fall. Prior to enrollment, we'll discuss whether you feel able to exercise the self-restraint you will need to pursue school. If not, we will work solely on your further development as a sex slave, in which case we will begin the process of finding you a suitable Master. You realize don't you, that your promiscuity virtually assures that you will never be the 'treasured little one' of romantic fiction? There will never be "The One" for you. You wouldn't survive such starvation rations." Claire was speechless. On the one hand she felt herself blushing, ashamed at having brought herself to this position. Mr. Lester had told her repeatedly that it was her responsibility to prioritize her studies. While he controlled who got to use her, it was her obligation to tell him when she needed more time to keep on top of her studies. Before, she'd maintained the right balance because she ...

... knew she'd get her parents all over her case if her grades slipped. But in the Lester's house, it had all be so easy. No fear of being caught. The delicious freedom of simply fucking whomever Mr. Lester sent. Anticipating what would happen all day in school. Coming home to the cottage, dripping, stripping, waiting. Doing some homework while playing with her wet pussy, kinda like when she'd been doing her classmates, but not really working as hard at the studying.

Really, she was just marking time until the front door would open. She was no longer allowed to lock the door; had no desire to control access to her living space, anyway. She wanted the violation, savored knowing that any time, day or night, strange men, but men selected by Mr. Lester, were going to simply enter the house and use her. And when it happened; when the door opened without warning, she'd close her books, go to the entryway, get down on hands and knees, as the men dropped off bags, removed their coats, got something to eat, or drink. Bowing, she waited patiently for direction. Knowing she'd be tied up, or left free but unresisting as she was beaten senseless; cumming from the abuse. Being fucked in all her holes. Sometimes quickly; just one guy. More often for hours, taking three and four at a time, or one after another coming in to watch and then taking their sloppy seconds and thirds and fourths. It had been so easy to just let it happen, day after day.

And now this. For all that she felt ashamed ...