A Helping Hand

I don’t know how Candi would have reacted if I’d left things there. Maybe she would have respected my definitely-sincere-and-chivalrous wishes, or maybe she would have kept pushing for us to have sex. Neither of us would ever find out, because the very next day, I began the newest phase of her training.

I’d already hired the same guys who’d mugged and raped her mother for this second job, though this time I’d made sure to stress subtlety. More than two weeks earlier, they’d broken into her dorm room while all three girls were away, using the dorm keycard that Candi had “lost” one night. They didn’t take or disturb anything, just cut a hole in the bottom of her mattress and left a present inside.

It was the sort of hiding place that no one was likely to find naturally any time soon, but that would be revealed very quickly if, say, someone sent the school an anonymous tip about illegal contraband and they sent campus security to do a search. I’m sure Candi was very surprised when they pulled out the small bag of cocaine. She certainly sounded distressed when she called me up a few hours later from the county holding cell she’d been taken to.

“I need… they said… I have to post bail…” she sobbed, sounded tired and panicked and so goddamn sexy. “Or I’ll have to stay here, and… and I didn’t… I didn’t do it, I promise…”

“Shhhh, calm down, Candi,” I told her gently. “It’s alright.”

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t be calling you… but there’s no one else who can help me… I don’t want to have to stay here… please, I’ll do anything you want, sir, anything…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything, okay?” I promised. “And no, you don’t have to do anything for it or pay me back. We’ll call this an early Christmas present.”

“Thank you, sir… thank you…”

When I arrived at the jail, I paid Candi’s bail, and they released her to me. She was a beautiful wreck as she got into the car with me. “Where to?” I asked, not starting up the vehicle yet.

She shook her head wearily. “I don’t know. They said… they said I’m not allowed on campus anymore…”

“Anywhere else you can stay? Friend’s house or something?” She just shook her head again. “A hotel, then,” I said cheerfully. “Whichever one you like.”

“And you’ll pay for it?” she asked hopefully.

“We’ll add it to your tab,” I told her lightly, and watched her face fall. I added a note of reproach to my voice. “Candi, you know I like you, but you’re already asking quite a lot from me. I think I’ve been very generous so far, but even I have my limits. I’m never going to set a cap on your tab, or demand you pay it back immediately in money or acts. There are people out there who’d kill for an open ended interest free loan like that. But if you really think that’s not enough and I should just be giving you money and getting nothing in return, well, I think that’s fairly selfish, don’t you?”

My blonde pet hunched up further and sighed. “You’re right. But sir, I… They said that this invalidates the terms of my scholarship, and I have to pay the full tuition retroactively, and with a penalty on top of it. My parents will have to take out another loan and they don’t have any collateral left and I…” She began to break down into tears. “I was supposed to come here and help my family… and now everything is ruined… I can’t do this to them…” She gave me a desperate, ashamed look as she hugged her knees. “Please, I’m not asking you to give me money. I’ll earn it. I… I promise I’ll do anything you want, even… I’ll fuck you if you want, sir… please let me fuck you… just please save my family…”

I let her take her time and get most of the crying out of her system before I responded to her offer. “I still don’t think sex is a good idea,” I said slowly, “but… there is something we could do.” Oh, the look of hope in those shining wet eyes! “But I don’t think you’ll like it. In fact, I’m confident you’ll really, really hate it. That’s why I haven’t brought up it before now, and to be honest with you, Candi, I think you’re going to be mad at me for even suggesting it, and I can’t blame you… but if you really need help this badly, it would be wrong of me to not mention it.”

“I won’t get mad, sir, I promise.”

“Well… you could start eating cum.”

Candi tried and failed to hide her look of disgust. “And in return?” she asked, and I could hear her reluctance. Part of her was hoping I’d offer some meager bonus in return, so that she could justify turning it down to herself.

“In return, two things. First, I’ll handle your tuition, penalty and all. I would like that money to be paid back at some point, but there is no hurry. In ten years, when you have a job that pays five times what I make, you can write me a check for it over lunch.” She laughed a little at that despite herself, and I hid my smirk at her naivety; as though this slut was ever going to have a job again that didn’t involve pleasing cock.

“Second, to help support you in the short term, I’ll cover your groceries from now on. You send me the list, and as long as it’s not caviar with gold flecks or something, I’ll have it purchased and delivered to you. And how about, hmm, a one hundred dollar weekly allowance, to handle any miscellaneous needs you have. No, better make it two hundred to account for inflation.”

“And that’s…going to be separate from my tab? I don’t have to pay it back?” Candi pressed, unable to believe my apparent generosity.

“Completely separate,” I confirmed. “You won’t have to pay back a cent, as long as you keep slurping down semen. But before you say yes, I’m not just talking about swallowing my loads after a blowjob. That’s part of it, but more of a treat than anything else. I’m talking about changing your entire diet.”

“I don’t understand,” the blonde confessed, though her queasy expression indicated she had more of an idea than she liked.

“It means every meal of every day gets a healthy seasoning of gooey dicksnot from now on,” I said.

“I, I can’t do that!” she exclaimed, and then glanced guiltily around the parking lot, as though she expected someone to come berate us for even discussing the idea.

“Sure you can. I’ll give you a jar of the stuff to keep in your fridge. For breakfast and lunch, you will film yourself applying a liberal amount of cock slime to your meal and then eating it. For dinner, I’ll stop by every night so you can give me a nice gentle wank that ends with showering your meal in fresh ball chowder. Either way, I’ll expect you to eat everything and lick the plate clean.” I shrugged. “Or, you know, don’t. I told you that you were going to hate it.”

“Of course I do, it’s disgusting!” she hissed.

“Yes,” I said slowly, as though speaking to a small child or very stupid blonde whore. “That’s why I’d be paying you so much money to do it.”

Candi gritted her teeth, but she had no good response to that, and a few moments later she remembered that she was supposed to be sucking up to me, not yelling at me. She blushed and bowed her head. “I, I’ll think about it,” she said begrudgingly.

“Take your time,” I said, as though it didn’t matter much to me what she chose. “Anyway, it’s getting late and you must be exhausted. I’ll drop you off at a good hotel I know, unless you’ve already got one in mind, and then I’m gonna hit the hay.”

Her lower lip trembled slightly. “Are… are you sure you don’t want to stay a little longer? After I get settled in?”

“So that you can suck my cock again?” I asked bluntly, though not in a cruel tone.

She nodded, cheeks red.

“Sorry, Candi, I really do need to get home,” I said. Before she could look too sad, I added, “But I wouldn’t say no to some road head while I drive.”

Candi nodded and began to lean over, but I stopped her with a hand to her forehead. “I know we’re both tired, but you have to know better than that.”

“What?” she asked.

“Your clothes, sweetie. You do this naked or not at all, remember?”

“But, but we’re in public!” she sputtered. “In a police parking lot!” She glanced around. “See, there’s people right over there!”

I rolled my eyes. “Come on, Candi, this isn’t the place for jokes. I know you’re not that dumb. Just take off your seatbelt and kneel in front of your seat. Nobody will be able to see you unless you raise your head, which you shouldn’t be doing anyway.”

She obeyed, blushing, and soon I had a naked, kneeling, smiling blonde for a passenger. I unzipped my pants to let my cock spring free, and her warm mouth closed over it. I stroked her head like the good pet she was while I turned the car on and she began tonguing my shaft.

“Shuh?” she asked quietly as I pulled out of the parking lot.

“Yeah?”

“If… if I shwallow this time, wih… will yuh buy me bekfish ih the morning?”

I grinned. “Absolutely, Candi. A great big breakfast with a creamy treat on top. Doesn’t that sound yummy?”

“Yeh shuh,” she agreed, and hot tears of humiliation ran down my shaft.

I exited the parking lot, headed in the exact opposite direction of the hotel. At such a fine time like this, it would be a shame not to take the scenic route.

*

I think the next few months were very confusing ones for Candi. On the one hand, I’d put her up at the nicest hotel around - she was anxious about the price tag until I offered to only charge her for a quarter of it - in a suite much more impressive than the cramped dorm room she’d had to share with two others or her parents’ dilapidated home, even before the fire. In college she’d gone hungry most days, skipping meals whenever she could and living on cheap crap the rest of the time, and now she could eat whatever she wanted, as much as she wanted (as long as it was properly seasoned, of course). She didn’t have to work or study, and still had the money to treat herself occasionally. I’d even pulled some strings and gotten the drug possession charges down to expulsion and some community service.

On the other hand, I think her hotel room was a quiet hell for her.

I’m not talking about the spooge encrusted meals, though I’m sure they didn’t help. As far as I know, Candi still abhors the taste of semen to this day, but she learned to tolerate it. It didn’t even take much prompting to get her to smile while she slowly jerked me off into her food each night, or to purr like a happy kitty while she lapped cum off her plate.

No, the constant dread that I later found out gave her nightmares every night had a more existential source. The more I helped her, the more she grew to need my help. She was acutely aware that she owned next to nothing, and that everything else was reliant on my good will. All I had to do was grow bored with her, and she’d be homeless and starving.

Even her weekly allowance couldn’t do much to change that. She tried saving up at first, but I crushed that attempt at financial independence with ease. All it took was a comment here and there, like “aren’t you tired of all those ratty old clothes?”, or “you’d look so much prettier if you wore makeup”, to keep her burning through her money out of fear that I’d lose interest. And with her pornographic website still appearing as a top result for her name, not to mention her new criminal history, getting a job that didn’t involve my cock was no easy task.

The other half of her hell was the merciless isolation. Her friends all abandoned her as rumors spread of her drug use, and her parents effectively disowned her. She’d always been evasive when they asked her where she was getting her money from, and in hindsight it was “obvious” that she’d been dealing drugs. Candi could’ve told them the truth, but I doubt “I’ve been sucking cock for money” would’ve melted her parents’ hearts, and apparently so did she.

Of course, a little bit of insurance never hurts, which is why her family received a visit soon after that involved a lot of screaming about how their “dumb bitch of a daughter” had lost their drugs and someone was going to have to pay them back. By the time their visitors left carrying the last few valuables in the house, her father’s kneecaps were both smashed to hell and her poor mother had gotten herself gang raped again. I gave my guys a nice bonus for their hard work.

So I was Candi’s only source of human interaction anymore, and I milked that for all it was worth. I spent as much time with her as I could spare, and from an outsider’s perspective we might have even looked like boyfriend and girlfriend. But my time with her was never without purpose.

Whenever I met her at the hotel, our interactions were always intertwined with sexual service. If I spent an evening watching television with her on the couch, she’d spend most of it on her knees with my cock buried between her breasts. If I joined her for dinner, her dessert would be under the table. Any conversation longer than two minutes would involve her playing with herself, or fisting my cock, or both. I couldn’t have made it clearer that I saw her as a sex toy first and a woman second if I’d tattooed it across her tits.

My home, on the other hand, was a different story. The first time I suggested a visit, back when she was still a college student, I’m sure she suspected that I was going to angle for sex. She was awkward the entire time, and from the way she kept going to her phone I’m pretty sure she’d asked her roommates to call the police if she didn’t check in regularly, but I was nothing but a gentleman. Future visits were the same; we’d have dinner, and then I’d make popcorn and have a movie night, or bring out some fancy looking board game for us to try out, or some other perfectly safe and harmless fun.

A few weeks after she’d moved into the hotel, after treating her to a concert that didn’t end until well after midnight, she agreed to spend the night at my house for the first time. At that point, I probably could have suggested sex and gotten away with it, but I left her to sleep in privacy in the guest room, albeit with a fresh load of semen warm in her belly. In the morning, she woke to find me humming downstairs in the kitchen while cooking us both some breakfast. “I know we’ve established certain dietary restrictions for you,” I said as I plopped an omelet onto her plate and enjoyed her flush of shame, “but this was one of my mother’s favorite recipes, and there ARE a few things in life I consider more important than sex.” Now there was a shameless lie. “It would be a tragedy if you didn’t get to appreciate the meal as she intended.” Candi had no problem agreeing, and even seemed sincerely cheerful as she sucked me off under the table afterward.

That was how things went at my house. Oral sex was still involved, but it took a backseat to - what she believed to be - genuine human interaction. Minus the parts where I was still paying her for humiliating blowjobs, titfucks, and cum gobbling, we were more like a couple than anything else.

All of this is to say that about half a year after her expulsion, feeling pressured to make more money, desperate to remain on my good side, and in a place where she felt relatively safe and comfortable, Candi shyly brought up the subject of sex once again. Naturally, she made her suggestion while on her knees, her soft fat tits hugging my shaft while my cockhead was being treated to a loving tongue bath in her mouth. It took a little while, but I eventually allowed her to win me over, “reluctantly” agreeing that I could try to ease her into it.

The fact that I offered to pay her four grand for our first fuck went a long way towards convincing her that she’d made the right decision. My pet whore had eyes as wide as saucers when she heard that, and I probably could have spread her legs and plowed her right there without a word of complaint. But instead I told her that we’d try it out tomorrow night, and after she’d swallowed my latest load, we spent the rest of the evening engaged in more normal activities.

The next night, I cooked her dinner as I often did, and talked and laughed with her as though it was any other evening together, but once the meal was over I led her down into the basement, a place that she’d never been in before. “Remember, there’s no shame in backing out,” I told her as we went down the stairs. “I bet this will all look very intimidating at first.” She gulped and nodded, trying to smile.

She relaxed just a little when we entered the playroom, and it was easy to read her impression: this wasn’t so bad. It was a large area that stretched under my entire house, making it a couple thousand square feet. There were no windows to speak of, but plenty of lights, and some ventilators in the ceiling to keep the air from getting stagnant. The floor was covered in large gym mats, and there were a few equipment racks on the walls; they were mostly empty, but there were some dildos and a mixed assortment of bondage cuffs and gags. There were some hooks on the walls and ceiling for use with suspension.

Take away the sex toys, and I could have introduced the place as a personal fitness area or something. Most of the really fun equipment and furniture was safely hidden in storage. One good look at that stuff and Candi would have probably ran for the hills, but this presented a sanitized, practically harmless BDSM environment. She’d see what a real one looked like eventually.

“Are you okay?” I asked, trying to sound nervous and self-conscious. “We can go back upstairs if you want.”

“No, it’s actually rather nice,” Candi said as she took a slow walk around the place. “I think I like it.” She did blush a little while inspecting one of the equipment racks and the row of butt plugs it held. “So… what do you want me to do, sir?”

“First, you’ll strip,” I told her, already slipping out of my own clothes. “Then come over here. We’ll be playing with this tonight.” I indicated a simple pulley on the ceiling, with two nylon ropes trailing down. “Oh, but first…” I went to one of the equipment racks, and pulled out a black leather collar. “I’d like you to wear this from now on.” She slipped it on without argument, and held still to let me slip a tiny silver padlock through the front, though she looked distinctly uncomfortable. The collar was a couple sizes too small for her, just as I’d intended, and dug into the sides of her neck

“We’re going to use the pulley to do some sensation play,” I explained. “I’m going to suspend you in the air, render you blind, deaf, mute, and immobile to heighten your tactile sensitivity, and then…” I smiled at her. “We’ll try out some toys together and see which ones get a good reaction from you.”

“And at some point you’re going to…” she gave my cock a meaningful look.

“If you’re having a good time, yes. And if at any point, for any reason, you’re not having a good time, here’s your safeword.” I showed her the little remote in my hand. It looked like a key fob, and when I clicked the single red button on it, there was a loud beeping and the basement lights flashed several times. “See? You push this, and we stop immediately, no questions asked.” I handed it over, and she experimentally pushed the button, setting the lights and alarm off again.

The next thing I showed her was a couple small pill capsules. “Here, try these.”

She looked at them like I was offering an angry rattlesnake. “I, uh, I don’t do drugs,” she said nervously.

I chuckled. “They’re just a little anti anxiety medicine to help you relax,” I lied. “Barely stronger than what you’d get over the counter at any pharmacy, and non addictive. If you don’t want them, I’m not going to force you, I just thought you could use them.”

Candi hesitated, then took them from me. “So they’re not anything illegal?”

“Only in the sense that you normally need a prescription to get them, which I have.” I gave her a teasing smile. “One look at your face right now, and I’m sure my doctor would prescribe them to you too.”

I watched gleefully as she obediently swallowed both capsules. They were pretty much the exact opposite of what I’d described, a street concoction of uppers designed to get your heart racing and adrenaline spiking. The heightened sensitivity that brings is incredible (and incredibly addictive), but I hear it’s an absolutely terrifying experience if you’re not used to it.

My pet had just downed a double dose.

I had a few minutes before they kicked in, and I didn’t waste any time. I taped her safeword buzzer to the palm of her left hand, and then eased her arms into the armbinder I’d prepared. There was a hook at the end of the binder, and I connected that to one end of the pulley rope. Candi squeaked slightly when I began to hoist her up, leaving her dangling just above the floor with her arms pointed at the ceiling. The other end of the line connected to the back of her collar, and as I removed every last inch of slack, she was forced to raise her head up and arch her back, which had the wonderful side effect of pushing those lovely tits of hers out. Several times in the process she was smart enough to test the buzzer and confirm she could still activate it.

Her skin was growing clammy to the touch as I strapped her gag on. From the outside, it looked like a bright red ballgag, but there was a dildo attached that was large enough to penetrate her throat. From the way she began squirming uncomfortably before I’d even finished tightening the straps, the dildo was irritating her gag reflex and making breathing a chore. Perfect.

Next was her legs. I folded them in half, pressing her heels against her thighs before using zip ties to hold them there. They looked like adorable chicken wings when I was finished.

Last but not least, I removed her vision with a blindfold. Her eyes were already bloodshot, and cold sweat dripped off her forehead. “Try to relax,” I said in my most calming voice. “The medicine should start kicking in any minute.” Candi tried to nod, but the suspension bondage didn’t allow her head to move more than a fraction of an inch.

I stepped back and admired my bound, gagged, blind, twitching pet. It was time to give her the fucking of her life.

I started by taping a couple egg vibrators to her nipples and switching them to the highest setting. She was already shivering hard, but the strong stimulation had her quivering like a plucked guitar string. Then I knelt in front of her and enjoyed my first taste of her pussy, sticking my head right between her legs and lapping at her tight slit. She squirmed in surprise at the contact, but it didn’t take long for her to start gushing on my tongue as she neared orgasm.

That was my cue to pull back, stand up, and grab my belt.

Candi screamed silently as I finally got to fulfill my dream of walloping her big, sensitive tits, happily making them jiggle and dance with every slap of leather. I don’t know if she tried to hold out at first or immediately gave in and pressed the buzzer. I hope it was the latter.

By the time I’d left a dozen welts on those fat melons, she was making a series of low, urgent sounds, and I knew that she’d definitely tried - and failed - to use her electronic safeword. You see, the button on her remote was very stiff. You’d barely notice the resistance when trying to use it normally, but if your hands had been restrained to put your fingers at an awkward angle, and said fingers were already covered in sweat and trembling thanks to the drugs you just took, not to mention the warmth of the binder they were in…

I realize that this may seem redundant at this point. Candi was already at my mercy, and I could’ve just ignored her attempts to get me to stop. But I was eventually going to have to let her free, and even if she wasn’t up to snapping my neck and ripping my balls off, she’d never be coming back. What we had instead was perfect: she was clearly miserable and hurting and internally begging me to end this nightmare, but it wasn’t ME keeping her trapped, it was her own clumsiness. Given a minute to think clearly, I’ve no doubt she’d be smart enough to realize that I’d deliberately set her up to fail, but between the double dose of uppers burning a hole in her brain and everything I was doing to her, I doubt the poor little whore could’ve figured out 2 + 2 at that point.

So I pretended not to notice her desperate attempts to signal her distress, and settled in to enjoying her. Once her tits were covered in the pretty marks they deserved, I switched to finger fucking her. My two fingers easily squelched in and out of her soaked hole while my thumb teased her stiff clit. Once again she barreled towards an orgasm, and once again I changed tactics at the last moment. My fingernails dug into her cunt walls hard enough to draw blood, and my other hand pinched that clit of hers like I wanted to make it pop. Candi shrieked and shrieked.

My pet shuddered like the terrified animal she was when I touched the massage wand to her swollen pussy lips. I used it slowly, teasingly, only just brushing her clit as it stroked her thighs and buzzed against her mound. Little by little I built her up a third time, until she was flinching in preparation for her next torture.

Which is why she was caught completely by surprise when I attacked her clit with the wand. Candi’s juices ran down her leg as the girl had what I bet was the most powerful orgasm of her life. And before it was even over, I was working on her again.

I played with my pet like that for HOURS. It was a game that only grew more entertaining with every new round. I ate her out over and over, showed her all the wonders of wands and vibrators, found and teased sensitive spots like the hollow of her throat with my tongue and fingers… and SOMETIMES left her satisfied. I didn’t even know myself if I was going to make her cum or torture her, not until the moment arrived. I flogged her, whipped her, pinched her, slapped her, even put a cigarette out on her skin once, pressing it in just below her belly button. I did everything I could to drive that girl absolutely insane between pain and pleasure.

I’d be surprised if Candi had a single coherent thought left in her head by the end of the first hour. Between the drugs and the merciless stimulation, she was completely overwhelmed. I took particular joy in drawing her collar tighter and tighter as the night went on, often cutting her air off completely at the same time I triggered another orgasm. As I watched her suffocate and convulse and drool and cum like a freight train, I could practically see her brain cells dying.

It was almost morning by the time my cock just couldn’t take any more. It was throbbing so badly that I half expected to cum without even touching it. What a waste that would have been. So I built Candi up one last time, tongue lashing that beautiful pussy while she shivered and cried. When I stopped she flinched, bracing herself for the pain that might follow… and then all but melted as my cock slid into her.

Candi had the biggest orgasm yet while I happily shafted her soft silky twat. The only thing that would have made the experience better would have been riding her raw, but we weren’t at that point yet, so a few minutes later my semen ended up in the condom rather than her womb. This time.

We were both panting and exhausted by the time I slid out of her. For me it was a pleasant sort of fatigue, but I doubt Candi was in the same boat. She was boneless and shaking as I lowered her suspension and began removing her restraints, saving the blindfold and gag for last.

“That was perfect!” I told her warmly while I freed her. “Absolutely perfect! I’m so happy you were enjoying yourself as much as I did. I kept expecting you to use your safeword, but you took everything I gave you and kept asking for more. I know we already agreed on payment in advance, but please, I have to pay you more than that for such a spectacular performance. Let’s say double, no, triple what we agreed!”

Candi’s hair was matted with sweat, and her eyes seem to be unable to focus as she looked up at me. Her lips quivered, and I could see the internal debate running through her ragged brain. Should she be honest about hating it, about how she just couldn’t get the remote to work? If I’d been gloating about what I’d done to her I think she would’ve kicked my ass, exhausted or not, but she wasn’t prepared to handle praise and kindness. Uncertainty and hesitation flickered through her, and I could almost hear her telling herself that maybe it hadn’t really been so bad. After all, it was over now, and complaining after the fact wouldn’t change things. All it would do was upset me, her friend and the man keeping her afloat. It wasn’t like it was MY fault that she’d messed up.

“Th-thank you, sir…” she whispered.

Candi was never quite the same after that. Call it a byproduct of her new drug addiction, or a result of all the oxygen deprivation, or hell, maybe she’d just discovered that a really good cum was better than anything her normal life offered. Regardless of the cause, she was more pliable from that point on, more eager to please. Only a few days passed before she was contacting me to ask - beg, really - for another fuck session, and she didn’t hesitate to down her pills when offered.

I was more than happy to keep fucking her brains out. Not all her sessions were as intense as the first, but they were always a mix of bondage, pain, and pleasure that left her sweaty, soaked, and shivering. I didn’t play any more tricks with the safeword buzzer, and there were a few sessions where it ended my fun early, but she usually rode things through all the way to the end. I didn’t even have much trouble convincing her to dispense with the condoms after showing her (forged) paperwork of my (fictional) vasectomy years ago, and a recent STD test that gave me a clean bill of health.

I never told her the truth about the pills, but after eventually having a few sessions without them, she quickly noticed that the sex was nowhere near as satisfying, and did nothing for the cravings she was now experiencing. I’m sure it didn’t take her long to realize that she’d developed an addiction, but she wasn’t going to say anything and risk me doing something noble like withholding them for her own good. Instead, she just carefully asked me one day if I could keep helping her with her anxiety, and I pretended not to notice the hunger in her eyes.

If I was the sort of man she thought I was, just a lonely fetishist willing to pay for a partner, we probably could have lived happily ever after like that. Candi certainly had the potential to be a submissive, and I could have trained her until she enjoyed our sessions as much as I did. But that’s not what I was interested in.

I began turning the screws by increasing the amount of time she spent in my house versus the hotel. It became common for her to arrive here by ride share in the evening before I returned from work, stay overnight, then return to her hotel room in the morning after I’d left. She had no objections to this at first; like I said, I treated her far better at home. But that began to change too. Little by little, the movie nights and board games and the casual conversations dwindled, replaced by sex and submission. Instead of alternating between treating her like a girlfriend and treating her like a sex toy, now she was just a sex toy all the time.

In fact, the gradual addition of new rules meant that soon I was treating her far more harshly at home than I ever had elsewhere. She was to address me as ‘sir’ at all times. She was to wear no clothing at all times. She was to remain on all fours instead of standing, crawl instead of walking, and eat her meals from dog bowls under the table. If I’d tried to foist these on her all at once, she might have balked, but I doled them out one at a time, each a humble request from the man she owed so much.

I introduced new rules to our fucking as well. Every session had to begin with her presenting her tits and asking me to beat them, a request I was always happy to oblige, and end with her scooping out and eating the cum I’d left in her pussy. She had to beg permission to cum, of course, a request I almost never granted quickly. During any sort of discipline, she had to count the number of spankings, canings, floggings, etc. and thank me after each one, unless she wanted me to start over. Unless blindfolded or in a position that didn’t allow it, she had to keep her eyes open and trained on me at all times. I think her least favorite rule was having to clean my cock after I came. I guess the only thing she hated more than eating cum was eating it off my shaft.

Soon, that once vibrant and promising college student was beginning to look and act like a proper fucktoy. I couldn’t be satisfied with this, though, not when she still had the power to end our relationship at any time. So after four months of fucking her silly almost every day, I came home one evening and dropped the newest bombshell: “We have to stop doing this.”

You’ve never seen a young woman more disappointed that she’d no longer be an old man’s sex pet and sperm bank. “Buhh, buhh thurr!” the naked girl whined frantically as she continued trying to pull my zipper down with her teeth for a “welcome home blowjob”, another of her many rules. “I duhh-”

I gently pushed her head away from my pants and fixed my clothing. “None of that anymore, Candi. As much as I’d like to be getting my cock sucked right now, I can’t afford to pay you for it, and letting you continue without telling you that would literally be rape.” Candi sat back on her haunches and listened sadly as I spun a tale about how I’d already been accruing debt and stretching my savings thin over this last year, and had now been laid off at work.

For the record, Candi had been my only job since the day I met her. She’s not the first fucktoy I’ve ever trained, though she is easily my favorite, and I’d eventually sold the others for very tidy sums after getting bored with them. Combined with a generous family inheritance and some stock investments, I had no need for a paycheck. During the day, when she thought I was out working, I was just killing time for the sake of the illusion, usually by editing and curating some of the many excellent sex tapes she’d unknowingly starred in.

My poor little toy found herself in a very painful dilemma. She still loathed most of the things we did together - and always would - and had enough of her own money saved up by now that she could potentially leave the hotel and get her own apartment, maybe find an employer willing to overlook her sordid background after all. But it would probably have to be a crappy one room apartment in a bad neighborhood, and a job involving backbreaking manual labor for less than minimum wage. She would be completely alone, with no one to turn to for friendship and warmth, let alone a safety net if something went wrong. And of course, no more access to my little pills, the contents of which she didn’t even know.

I expect that at this point, some of you think Candi would have to be crazy to stay. Certainly even the grimmest, most impoverished existence would be better than the kind of life that involves regularly licking an old man’s sperm off her tits, right? And that’s absolutely true; if my blonde pet ever DID leave, I expect within a couple weeks she’d consider it the best decision of her life. But never underestimate the power of inertia, or self delusion for that matter. Turning her back on me would require admitting to herself that this had been a mistake, and that she’d spent all this time as my loyal whore for no lasting benefit.

Maybe once upon a time she would’ve been strong enough to manage, but I’d been wearing her down physically and mentally for months at this point. Chipping away at her self esteem, her independence, her intelligence, and leaving behind anxiety, obedience, and a body trained for providing pleasure… if I was an artist, then she’d be a sculpture titled DEVOTION.

I couldn’t suggest the next part myself, but Candi stepped up nicely. “What if… what if I started living here instead of just visiting, sir?” she asked, looking up at me with those baby blues. There was no reason for her to remain on all fours at this point, or to be naked, or to keep calling me ‘sir’ for that matter, but she didn’t seem to even consider the idea of no longer following the rules. “Then you wouldn’t have to pay for the hotel room anymore, and our combined living expenses would be cheaper. Instead of paying me directly, my, um, my services could go towards covering my room and board.”

“You… you want to move in with me?” I asked in feigned astonishment. “Candi, that’s… wow, that’s a big step. I’m not saying it’s a bad idea, but I don’t think we should rush into something like that. You were telling me just the other day that you were thinking of hunting for some on-line classes that would let you finish your degree, right? Why don’t you focus on that while I do some job searching myself, see if we can both get ourselves into more financially stable positions, and then we can circle back to this and see if you’re still interested?”

The blonde bit her lip, thinking about how many months or years that would mean before her next fix, or maybe about how unlikely it was that she’d ever finish her degree at this point, especially when she was going to need a full-time job now. “I, I don’t know if I can manage without you, sir. It’s not just the money, I… I like being here. With you sir. Even with…” she blushed. “Even with all of your rules.”

“Well, Candi, the truth is, I also like having you here,” I told her. “More than I should. I’ve tried my best to keep this relationship professional, but I’m only human, and I don’t think I could live with you and keep my distance. Candi, if we’re going to do this, I need to be honest: I think I’m in love with you.”

I was glad I’d stopped her from unzipping my pants, because the look of revulsion on her face made my cock absolutely rock hard, and even she would have noticed. Candi did like me at this point, but only as a friend, with zero sexual interest outside of the money and drugs I offered. I was, at best, like a kindly old uncle who didn’t stay on top of his personal hygiene. She enjoyed our time together, specifically the increasingly rare moments where I treated her like a human being, plus the ones where I allowed her to cum her brains out, but romance had not and would never be a part of this for her.

Not that she could say anything like that to my face, not after I’d confessed my undying love for her. She still needed me, after all. So she forced on a smile and tried to sound less nauseated than she felt. “I, I… I l-love you too, sir…”