Keep Telling Yourself, "It's For The Money..." (PsionicCuttlefish & Frogger)

[PsionicCuttlefish]

I spread my arms out wide over the back of my couch as I tilted my head back and let out a long sigh through my wolf-muzzle.

Man, I was bored as shit.

Three days and I, Jonah Coleman, was still waiting. Sure, 'patience is a virtue' and all that, but truth be told, I'm just used to getting what I want. I inherited millions from my dad's corporation, but I didn't care about the family business or doing any real work to make that fortune bigger. My brother was fine working to take over for our dad one day, he was the one with real ambition. Let him bust his ass working the books all day. Me? I just put my money in diversified investments and stocks and kept an eye on them to get a steady income stream, large enough to fuel my perferred lifestyle, and called it a day. I already had more money than I knew what to do with, why bother trying to make shitloads more? The zeroes just blurred together after awhile anyway. I had my house--a nice 'compact' mansion-kind-of-deal, three stories high with nice and pretty with whites and golds and good molding. My own small private estate, on the edge of the big city. Cozy and quiet. No "second homes" in a bunch of different countries, no yachts or private jets that would have actually drained my wealth, and were things I didn't care much about anyway.

I sighed again and tilted my head back forward, long having lost interest in whatever show I put my massive wall-TV on. I flicked it off with the remote and looked down at my bare chest and the nice pants I was wearing. I was a gorgeous motherfucker if I do say so myself. A nice light-brown-and-cream coat of fur on a lean body, but well-toned and rugged. I had neck-length ash-black hair back in a ponytail and some sexy bangs over my pale blue eyes. I was a bad boy. Always going out to parties to have a good time, cruised for one-night-stand-chicks at bars all over the city, had one hell of an entertainment system, but...lately? I'd been wanting something more. Sure, with my good looks and money, I could get any girlfriend I wanted, but ugh that would still take some work and I'd have to be nice and listen to what she wants. No...I wanted a girl I could own, a female that would be all mine to use and abuse however I wanted. My money and connections also gave me access to some 'special products' I was intending to use...some I had already used on myself for enhancement. I frequented my local BDSM clubs, and was well familiar with exactly what I wanted. Oh, being a full-time dom would admittedly still be 'work', a lot of it, in some ways more than just getting a girlfriend normally but...it'd be work that I would enjoy. Yet, three days, and I was still waiting for someone to knock on my door for the personal ad I had put online three days ago...



WANTED: FEMALE TO BE MY 24/7 SLAVE FOR MONTH OR LONG-TERM, 30K+ PAYMENT

BASICS:
My name is Jonah Coleman [picture attached], age 27, and I am seeking a female to enter into a 24/7 Master and Slave-Pet BDSM relationship with me, for a pre-set amount of time. I will be dominant and do with you as I wish (details below) by training you to serve and pleasure me, there won't be safewords and disobedience will be punished, however you can leave any time you want. Food, lodging, and care will be provided, although you are not allowed to leave my house without me unless terminating the relationship. If you can stay as my slave for thirty days, then at the end of it I will cut a check for 30,000$ to you, and you may leave. Birth control will be provided. Additionally, if you choose to stay on for a full year after the first month, you will receive 500,000$ For further negotiations beyond that, see details below. This offer is first-come first-serve basis, I will take in the first girl who meets my requirements and close this offer, though I will re-open if a girl leaves or fails to live up to expectations. Arrive at [address enclosed] with all prior commitments tied up and the documentation specified below.

I require my female: (NONE OF THESE ARE NEGOTIABLE)
-to be between the ages 18 and 30, younger and less-experienced is preferable (I want to have the satisfaction of breaking and training from the ground-up)
-to be free of any STDs (bring your birth certificate and a medical report when you come to my house)
-must already have D-cup breasts at minimum
-must live in the city, or come from a reasonably nearby location

<Go to next page for details>

DETAILS:
One-month commitment--you will be subjected to strong BDSM aspects, including but not limited to:
-Sexual training on how to please a male with your body
-Commanded to perform housework and cook meals
-Bondage and sexual torment
-Painful discipline for disobedience, or sometimes because I feel like it
-Occasional public 'scene', but otherwise not allowed out on your own
-Occasional gangbang as I share you with friends
-Body modification, including but not limited to piercings, breast-enhancement, etc. (nothing irreversible)
-Milking, you will be given treatments to induce lactation (also reversible)
-And much more...

One-year commitment--if you last for a month and choose to stay on for an additional year, much will remain the same with a few differences:
--You will be given 'days off' to spend the money you have earned and anything else you would like to do
--I will breed you: birth control will stop, and I will impregnate you. You will carry and birth my child.

Further commitment--If you choose not to stay past one year of service, you will receive the 500,000$ promised and I will keep the child. If you wish to remain past one year, then we will effectively enter into a marriage, and you will gain joint access to my accounts and help me raise my child, though our BDSM relationship will continue. Further breeding possible.



It was a pretty intimidating ad, I knew, but I was hoping the carrots would be good enough to bite for a young girl with not much better to do. Breeding was probably especially intimidating even though that was for a long-term commitment only, but my life was completely stable and I wasn't getting any younger, I'd welcome having a kid around. Or even a 'wife', albeit a BDSM wife. Oh, and I also had made sure to geographically restrict the ad to only appearing to people in the same city. Didn't want some girl moving in from states away only for her to realize she can't handle me only to get dumped in a city with no money and nowhere to go. Fuck, I may have wanted a girl I can rough up as I please, but I wasn't heartless.

I was just about to set my entertainment system to some porn just to pass the time when all of a sudden, I heard my doorbell ring! I jolted up, my ears flicking at attention. Could it be? A female answered the ad, at last? Fucking finally! I quickly threw on a button-up vest, covering my bare chest while leaving my beefy arms showing. With that, I rushed down two hallways from my entertainment room to my front double-door, and after checking the peephole and seeing that my excitement was not unfounded, I pulled open one of the doors to get a good look at the female who would hopefully be my sex-slave for at least the next month...

 

[Frogger]

Alright, I know I’m a bit strapped for cash, but am I seriously considering this? I let my eyes scour the three-story Tudor nestled right at the edge of town, taking in small details here and there.

Man, I so don’t belong here.

I meet all the requirements and… specifications, but it doesn’t mean I’m the right girl for the job. I can’t believe I thought I could actually do this. Come on. I must’ve lost my damn mind. I know things have been tough lately, but it doesn’t mean I should snatch up every opportunity that falls into my lap! I’m absolutely stunning, I shouldn’t have to grovel for anything. Of course, Mom and Pops don’t exactly agree with me. Doesn’t it figure? I finally turn eighteen, and the day I should’ve thrown a huge party in my honor… they get it into their heads to ‘teach me a lesson’. I get kicked out of my house, with no warning whatsoever, not a penny to my name… and for what? To stroke their fragile egos? In any case, I’m not buying the act. Not one bit. Sooner or later, they’ll come crawling back, bawling their eyes out and begging me to move back in. I can’t wait-! I just have to last until then. No big deal… right? All I need to do is get my hands on enough cash to survive on. I let out a great big sigh, digging through my purse while I slowly drag my feet up those marble steps. I just can’t believe I’m about to follow through with this… and yet, what other choice do I have?

Not too long ago, I was scouted to be a model. Of course I wasn’t the least bit surprised that somebody else recognized such… amazing talent, but to think it was a scam… ugh! I study my reflection in the small compact I carry around with me, tilting my head back and forth to look at every possible angle. Nothing’s out of place. First thing people usually notice is my fiery red eyes… but me, personally, I’ve always loved my feathers. Maybe it’s because I’m avian, but I take pride in my beautiful plumage. At the crown of my head is a collection of red, in all sorts of different shades, but the ends are lighter, more of a… sunset orange? More feathers frame my face, too, just in a… no pun intended, canary yellow. I have a lovely layer of red feathers all over my body, only under my chin and down my chest, nothing but white. I've inherited an impressive set of E-cup breasts to boot. It helps I exercise regularly, and that I don’t indulge in too many sweets or trans fats. Ugh. I can’t put too much weight on my hips. I close my little mirror, just to tap a finger along its edge. In the ad, it details that the arrangement is just for a month… unless I wish to stay on longer. I’d just have to cook his meals and subject myself to all sorts of craziness. Heh. He’d be in for a rude awakening. I know how to throw something in the microwave, but I’ve never learned how to actually cook. I’m more liable to set his place on fire. I guess if anything… I can look up a couple recipes on the Internet? I can follow instructions pretty well, if I put my mind to it… which is usually the problem.

Marriage, though? Is he seriously talking about marriage with a girl who answers this ad… who decides to stick around for more than a year? Please. He has to be delusional. I just can’t imagine having anyone slide a ring onto my finger… especially a guy that just wants me because of my body, and because of the kid I carried in my belly for nine months. I roll my eyes, just to let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding onto. I guess I better suck up my pride and get on with it, huh? I can’t exactly stand on this guy’s front porch until Mom and Pops decide to get their act together. I’ve got my birth certification, but as far as the medical report goes… I’ll have to stop by a doctor’s office and get it done. It’s not like I’ve had sex recently. I lift my hand and knock on the door, my heart beating a little too fast inside my chest. Jonah Coleman, huh? I heard his name before, but I don’t think we’ve ever crossed paths. Is that because we ran in the same circles-?

I just about jump out of my damn skin as the door flies open, revealing Jonah Coleman at long last. I have to give him credit, he’s definitely easy on the eyes… better than the average guy I walk past on the street. I lift my eyebrows and place my hands on my hips, knowing fully well I’m receiving the same sort of scrutiny. I decided to slip on a pair of jean shorts earlier that morning, and a super cute green blouse that leaves very little to the imagination. Hell, I made absolutely sure I looked my best. A good bit of cleavage is fixing to spill out, and two, three inches of my stomach can be seen. “Jonah Coleman?” I speak up finally, after a minute of awkward silence. “Or am I in the wrong place?”

 

[PsionicCuttlefish]

I swung the door open ninety degrees, standing right in the middle of the entrance with my rugged male bulk, one arm reaching out to hold the edge of the door I just opened while the other arm braced on the door that was still closed, slightly 'blocking' the doorway. Probably gave me a more menacing look that I intended, but...

Daaaamn, that's a fine-lookin' bird-bitch!

Standing before me was a smokin' female avian. Such a vibrant crimson coloration over most of her body, a nice crest, an excellently curvy body, and most importantly a sweet pair of fat tits. She was also dressed very eye-catchingly too, wearing only jean-shorts and an intentionally-small blouse that bared her midriff and cleavage, with the blue and green creating a nice contrast to her red. There was no denying she was hot, and had good tits...that I was already planning to make even better! Assuming she didn't run away, of course.

Well, I stood their in silence for several moments, me in my black pants and black vest with my buff brown-furred arms in full view and my black bangs partially hanging over my eyes, though they did nothing to hide me shamelessly looking the sweet avian-girl up and down from head to toe with a slowly spreading predatory grin on my muzzle. Holy fuck, but I was really hoping this hot bitch would be able to make the cut and last at least a month. Fucking this birdie for thirty days would do wonders for my boredom...I took in more details of the female before me, like how I could tell she definitely worked out with how fit and shapely her arms and legs were. I couldn't wait to spread those legs open and toy with those tits, and it looked like all she had brought with her was a purse. Well, that was completely fine, it wasn't like she was going to be needing anything she did bring anyway. I looked in her face, studying her eyes, her expression, the way she carried herself. I did still remember some shit I had be taught in the cutthroat world of business and politics, like how to carefully read someone at just a glance. But I didn't need any of that to tell me what kind of a girl I had in front of me, with her hands on her hips and looking at me with haughty eyes, looking all self-important. And while she may have been working out, from the way she carried herself I could tell she'd never truly worked a day in her life. I was looking at a spoiled rotten cunt....and already I was getting VERY excited. I had handled some bratty bitch submissives at the BDSM clubs I frequented, and brat-breaking was fun.

I kept up the silence for several long moments, letting my masculine presence do the talking for me at first, before she then spoke up. I raised an eyebrow and quirked up the corner of my mouth. "That's me, all right. You must be here about my ad, then." I stated confidently, in my low, smooth rumble of a voice. I finally relaxed my doorway-filling posture and reached out a hand with upturned palm towards her, while my other arm kept braced on the door, though now my elbow was hanging low instead of propped up. "Got your documentation, I presume." I said, waiting for her to put the two official pieces of paper into my hand that I needed. Just needed to verify her age and that she had a clean bill of health. Not that I at all expected there would be any problem, if she had gotten this far to my doorstep, no way she came without either legit documents or some really convincing fakes, as she did look a bit close to 18. So hey, never skip the details. Read every contract, word-for-word, don't let someone pull the wool over your eyes. I'd been taught well, even if I didn't care to apply the lessons of my upbringing much.

 

[Frogger]

Excuse me, my eyes are up here! I know I’ve got an amazing pair of tits, but the least you can do is give me the common courtesy of looking me in the eye! It’s only polite. Jeez. Hasn’t anyone taught this guy manners? I can’t say much, myself, but I at least know better than to shamelessly look somebody over like a piece of meat put on display.

“Oh really?” I cooed once he decided to pipe up, “and here I thought I waltzed on up to the wrong front door.”

It’s not too late to back out of this now. It’s not like I’ve signed on any dotted lines or anything. I can fly on out of here, and he’d have no idea how to track me down. I know his name, but he doesn’t know mine. I’ve got the upper hand in this… well, sort of. I don’t have two pennies to rub together… and that’s the reason why I’m here. “Yes,” I reply, reluctant to hand over anything, “and no.” I might as well start with the truth, right off the bat. I dig through my purse until I find my birth certificate, folded neatly in half but nearly buried underneath everything else. I’m not surprised.

My name's written in elegant cursive right across the top, in big, bold letters proudly declaring the time I was brought into this world.

Alexis Leigh Peace
Underneath are details about how much I weighed, how long I was, all that junk. I'm already eighteen, but in two weeks I'll be turning nineteen.

What’s the best way to put it out there-? Well, I better just rip the band-aid off. “I don’t have a recent medical report,” I share in the most dispassionate tone I can muster on the spot. I even threw in a shrug for good measure. “I’ve got the last one I had done, but it’s from over a year ago. I’ll admit this much: I haven’t had sex since. Nobody’s caught my eye.” I smirk and brush some feathers out of the way, just to laugh a little half a heartbeat later. “Anyway. I sort of doubt you’ve had any other girls knocking on your door, so…” I purposely let my words trail off, letting the meaning sink in, loud and clear. I even give the guy a look, raising an eyebrow. “I’m sure we can work something out as far as the medical report goes,” I continue on, brushing off the fact I didn’t bring one of the two documents he specified in his ad. It’s not a big deal, though, right? “Besides. I’d like to see a clean bill with your name stamped on it, too. I’m not going to be the only one who puts her health at risk.” It’s not too much to ask for, is it? Come on. Seriously. He can’t honestly think I’d throw myself into this whole… scenario without checking over every little thing. I’m not about to let anybody take advantage of me again, not after what happened not too long ago. “I think it’s only fair if we both go," I tell him, just to study my nails like I've got nothing better to do. Man, when’s the last time I had ‘em done-?! Obviously it’s been far too long! I snagged a bottle of nail polish a while back, but after the… fiasco with the so-called ‘modeling agency’, I haven’t had the inclination to keep up my usual beauty regiment. Isn’t it a shame? Ugh!

“Look, do you think that’s too much to ask for?” I dare to ask, lifting my eyes to offer a coy look. “Fine.” I make a shrug roll through my shoulders. “I’ll take my birth certificate back, and be on my way. Good luck finding another girl.” No judgments here. As much as I need the money, if he isn’t willing to bend a little, I’ve got no other choice but to hit the road. My options are few right now. I reach out a hand, wiggling my fingers impatiently. “My birth certificate?” I request ever so kindly, though I’m pretty sure that’s a note of exasperation in the simple three words I threw his direction. If he doesn't like it? Tough. I don’t want to be standing on his front porch all day if nothing’s going to come of it. I need to throw my name into other rings. I try not to start tapping my foot while I’m waiting for him to hand the thing over, instead scowling a little as the seconds pass on through. What’s going through that head of his-? I can’t help but wonder.

 

[PsionicCuttlefish]

Oooh, she's got some sarcasm on her tongue. Ain't that adorable. I thought to myself when she retorted to my statement. It also didn't escape my notice how she seemed a bit ruffled at my blatant staring. She'll have to get used to a lot more than that if she's gonna be my sub. However, her reply to my question for her documentation had one of my eyebrows raising slightly and my grin marginally thinning out. What was that supposed to mean? Did she seriously come here unprepared, without the basic requirements? I accepted the paper she held out to me, but deliberately kept my gaze straight on her chest for several seconds longer before I finally looked down to examine the paper in my hand. "Alexis, huh? Cute name..." I said as I read the birth certificate and--holy fuck. Seeing her birthdate, I realized two important things. First; her birthday was in sixteen days. This chick was really giving herself to me for a month in the time of her own birthday? Oh, that was precious...maybe I'll think of something 'special' for then. But, cross that bridge when we get to it....if we get to it. The second thing I realized was that she was 18 years old, about to turn 19. Shit, she was young. Maybe I should have upped the minimum age for my ad by a couple years... I idly thought to myself, but too late to do anything about that at the moment. However, I flicked my eyes up to her when she started talking again, as I was very aware that I was only holding one paper in my hand, not two.

Motherfucker. She really did come here without everything. She claimed not having sex recently, but... "Uh-huh, and I have a vacation home on the moon. Anybody can say anything they want." I immediately replied in a flat, skeptical tone and started looking back down at her certificate again...but then she started speaking again. This time, I actually turned my head all the way back up and fixed her with a hard gaze. Was she...was she trying to pull a "settle for me anyway, you don't have other options" ploy on me? And then she...she had the fucking gall to demand to see my medical report in almost the same breath as admitting she didn't have hers? My one eyebrow slowly raised up higher and higher as she continued digging that hole she was in. And was...was she fucking trying to pull a walk-out ploy on me? ME?! Sweet fucking lord. She was even scowling at me. I was more right than I realized; Spoiled. Rotten. CUNT. Her sheer audacity was breathtaking. She thought she in any way had an upper hand, she was trying to undermine me already? Well, she needed to learn real fucking quick how wrong she was.

I was silent for several seconds with my one eyebrow almost totally vanished under my bangs...and then I laughed right in her face.

Well, not a full-on laugh, more like dismissively-scoffing-chuckled. "Khyeh heh hah! Yeah, you walk this far up to my doorstep and you're ready to turn around before I've even said anything? Uh-huh." I held out her birth certificate to her as she so emptily demanded. "Go on, get your ass out of here then, I don't need a bitch that flaky and un-serious about this to be my sub." And the thing was, I wasn't even saying any exaggeration, let alone manipulation or a lie. If she honestly was on that much of a hair-trigger to bail, I really did not want to waste my time with her, she wouldn't last a day. She was young and clearly immature, not merely inexperienced, and that wasn't what I was looking for. I was impatient, but not that impatient. I could wait for anything better. However, if she took my accusations as a challenge to prove she's got what it takes, well...

Still, after a moment, she still looked like she had conflicted feelings and hadn't turned around yet. Maybe there was something to salvage of her after all, though I was already wondering if it'd really be worth it. "However...if you were only just speaking out thoughtlessly just now, and you have any sincerity about giving this a shot, I'll tell you what I'll do." I said as I reached into my pocket to pull out my phone, holding it idly in one hand with my other arm crossed low over my chest in a casual pose. "I've got my own doctor on-call when I need him, at the hospital in the city fifteen minutes from here. I also get regular checkups myself every three months, my recent one was last month. I'll call him up, and have my valet take you down there for an immediate checkup, no delays. If you were only just fantastically tone-deaf just now and not actually trying to pull a trick over me and your report comes out clean, I'll tell my doc to show you my report and my valet will bring you back here, all within an hour or two. I, of course, will cover the bill for the checkup. But if your report doesn't come out clean...." I narrowed my eyes. "Then my valet comes back here alone, and the bill for the visit is on you. So if you weren't trying to pull a fast one on me, you shouldn't have anything to worry about. And don't try to get cute about any of the details on this, you take it or leave it right now, exactly as I have stated." She had the gall enough to think she could 'negotiate' with me earlier, so I needed to disabuse her of that notion and show her I had 100% control of the situation. She would get none of what she demanded, no 'equalizing' of me going with her, except for her request to see my report. That was the only reasonable demand she made, but only if it was on my terms. "So, shall I make the call?" I finished by asking.

 

[Frogger]

Arrogant. Asshole. I paste on a pretty smile, trying my hardest not to slap that smug smile right off his face. It’s… definitely not easy. How the hell does he get away with being such a fuckin’ prick? Is Mommy and Daddy too busy to deal with his sorry ass? Or do they just… not care? Figures I have to deal with him. Ugh. Is my luck seriously this crappy lately? I’d think that my charming smile would’ve made things ten times easier… but nope! “I’m sorry,” I chirp, just to tuck both arms behind my back and lean in a good bit. It’s all just an act, but maybe it’ll work? I just have to play nice and… put on an innocent front. “I was just assuming you’d turn me away, since I don’t have a recent medical report… well, that, and… because of the look in your eyes.” I don’t accept the birth certificate, but instead let him keep it for now. Man, I so want to get out of here. Am I seriously so desperate that I’m considering this-? It’d just be for the money, nothin’ else… and it’d be just until I get on my feet again… or at the very least, until my parents decide to get their heads out of their asses. Hopefully it won’t take long. I just don’t want to waste my time here if he isn’t going to go the extra mile to let something slide… or give me the courtesy of laying eyes on his medical report. I’m not going to risk my body for his sick and twisted games, thank you very much! I know that’s not saying much, seeing as how I’m willing to sign on the dotted line if this works out… but it’s just a temporary situation, and for a chunk of change that should last me a while.

I can do it. It’s just for a month. I don’t plan on staying for a fucking year, and I seriously doubt I’ll be convinced otherwise. All I’ve got to do is play nice, and keep my mouth shut whenever we’re together. It’s not like we’ll be spending every hour of every goddamn day together, right? I’ll be allowed to have a break? I can tell I’m going to need one every now and again, or else I’ll be tempted to slap him… or worse. Judging by the expression written all over his face, there’s plenty going on inside that head of his… and more than likely, I’ll find every bit of it as insulting as the words coming out of his mouth. It’s best not to ask. I give his phone a long, long look, a finger tapping on my hip while I think it over. It’s… not a bad idea. I can get the test done, and I’ll be reassured he isn’t infested with some nasty STD. I just… don’t want to go along with it, not right away. Jonah’s pissed me off. I don’t want to give him that satisfaction. “I wasn’t trying to pull any trick, since it’s true I haven’t had sex in a while. I’m clean. And how am I supposed to know that you get regular checkups every three months? You didn’t share that piece of information,” I spout off, just giving him a piece of my mind. “I also don’t appreciate being called ‘fantastically tone-deaf’, thank you. I haven’t insulted you, have I?”

Well, I didn’t… to his face. I’ve been smart enough to keep my thoughts to myself. Unlike a certain someone. I swear, does he have any social skills whatsoever?

Highly unlikely. Jonah’s got as much charm as… well, let’s just say he makes me want to staple my cunt shut, and then some. He’s got more dick in his personality than he does in his pants. And that’s saying something. “I’ve got no objections to a ride,” I reply, “because I’ve got nothing to hide.” Let’s get one thing straight: outside the bedroom, I want nothing to do with this douchebag. I know I can be a bitch, but he’s… definitely something else. He spouts off insults with every fucking breath. I don’t want to have to deal with his shit. I reach out and take my birth certificate out of his hand, just to stuff the thing back into my purse. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to subject myself to poking and prodding,” I tell him next, offering a strained smile. I get the feeling it’s the only smile I’ll have to wear for the next month or so. It’s not like I’ll have anything to be happy about, after all, except the money in my pocket.

“Do you care to lead the way? Or am I to assume your valet is just waiting to escort me to the doctor’s office?” I lift my eyebrow, waiting for some smart-ass comment to be thrown my way. It’s all I expect out of this guy.

 

[PsionicCuttlefish]

...Hot damn, I didn't think I had ever seen a smile that fake before, and I was raised in a corporate world. It was a practiced smile, obviously one this girl had used to charm her way past guys before, but it was all about looking pretty with those fluttery eyes and nothing else. Most of all, I could see it already had a few cracks in it, even for a practiced smile. I had really gotten under this bird-bitch's feathers! It could be a good thing for me, or it could mean she'll be storming out of here in a huff within 72 hours. And...ohhh lordy, she even raised her shoulders and put her hands behind her back with that "cutesy" look, and even leaned forward to give me a better look down her cleavage. Oh yeah. This bitch had clearly gotten used to just using her charms and good looks to get what she wants all her life without having to do any real work. Well. I took the view of her tits with a brief but open stare...but it wouldn't sway me. If she was really going to give this a try, she was going to learn how to properly behave. Her excuse was, again, almost laughable, but I didn't bother laughing at it this time. Once I proposed my plan, I could practically see the gears turning in her head. I knew there would be no good reason to turn it down if she actually was going to do this. Most importantly, I could tell that she knew that...and she also clearly was annoyed with me, personally. Most people underestimated how much their eyes gave them away to the observant. The way she was staring at the phone and trying not to look at me...based on how she had behaved so far and what I had learned of her already, I guessed she was probably feeling a little spiteful, but there was really no way out of my proposal other than turning her back on the whole thing.

Then came more feeble excuses. I just scoffed. "Well then you should have just gotten your checkup before coming here, rather than waltzing up here going 'oh-I-don't-have-proof-I'm-clean-but-it's-no-big-deal-right-you-can-toooo-tally-trust-me'!" I said, raising my voice into a mocking feminine pitch with a slight 'valley girl' accent at the end. And at her retort, I just raised one eyebrow into my bangs again as I stared her in the eyes a bit more sternly. "Bint, you are signing up to be my BDSM slave. Insults are going to be the very least of your concerns in here, and if you can't handle it already, I am very serious, get out of here and don't waste my time." I said with a firm tone I had not yet used.

However, she did finally agree to it and take her birth certificate back. Her smile had gotten worse, though. I was really starting to get second thoughts at this...she was balking way too much already for it to be likely that she could handle me. But who knows...maybe she could surprise me. I'd lose nothing but a little time. She asked me about the arrangements for getting there, and I could easily tell by her tone that she was expecting more barbs from me. Well, too bad. Not only did it make me happy to disappoint her, there was no reason to make any barbs this time. I just held up my index finger from my free hand. "Just hold right there." I said as I then looked down at my phone and quickly typed out a text to my valet. After that, I then brought up my doctor's number and dialed his office. Turning my gaze back up to look the bitch in her eyes again, I held the phone up to my ear as I waited for it to be answered, then began speaking. "Hello...yes, this is Mr. Coleman. I'm making a special call for an immediate visit, will that be a problem...? About fifteen-twenty minutes... Excellent. Listen, I'm sending a girl your way. I want you to give her a physical, plus a full screen for STDs. If she comes out clean, I'll foot the bill for the visit, and I also want you to show her my most recent report from last month... Yes, I'll fax over the authorization paperwork in five minutes. Very good. Thank you. Goodbye." The entire time I spoke, I held the birdie's gaze with a fixed stare.

As I hung up on the phone, a limousine was already pulling up to the front courtyard of my home behind Alexis. I nodded in its direction behind her. "There you go. Let's see if you return in an hour or two." I said casually. Not that I actually expected any problems, but she needed to know that failing to meet the basic expectations before even getting here reflected very poorly on her.

 

[Frogger]

… Man, he’s awfully damn cute when he isn’t running his mouth. I just about slapped him at his mocking tone of my ‘excuses’. It’d taken everything I had not to follow through with it, and then some. If I can’t last two seconds in conversation with the guy, how am I gonna tolerate having a sexual relationship-? No. I can’t go there. I’ve got to keep my head held high, and… what little dignity I have left. Besides, I need the money. I’m not going to be the one who breaks down crying. I fight not to let my smile slip, instead just… keeping my hands behind my back, so I don’t wrap them around his throat. I know he’s got me by the balls, but this ‘business deal’ doesn’t mean he dictates every little thing. In the bedroom? I’ll be… whatever he pays me to be. Once I’m untangled from the sheets? I’m my own damn person. I find it pretty damn insulting he thinks I don’t know what I’m signing up for, but… as much as I’d love to prove it to him otherwise, why bother? It’s not like we’re going to be friends. So… I kept my trap shut the whole time, instead doing everything I can to act civilized. I’ve been born and raised as higher-class. It’s not too hard, and yet… Jonah keeps opening his mouth and saying things that don’t necessarily need to be said. Can’t he take a hint? Trying not to roll my eyes at this point, I take one deep breath after another… using this moment to compose myself. I don’t care what he says: what I said earlier was true, whether he wants to believe it or not. I just can’t wait to rub it in his face. “I’ll see you in an hour, then,” I tell him, after carefully applying a little mortar to my smile. It’s almost a shame he isn’t going to come along for the ride. Almost. Not quite. I’m going to relish my time away from him, I know that much. It’ll be… nice and quiet.

I didn’t hesitate to leave him standing there in the doorway, though I couldn’t help glancing at my chauffeur while I climbed into the limo. I can’t see who’s behind the wheel, though. It’s… sort of eerie. I try to relax and settle down in my seat, but it’s a little easier said than done. I know everything’s going to turn out fine with this examination, it’s just that… Am I seriously going to sign myself up for this? It seems a little nuts! I tap a finger on my thigh, my eyes drawn to the beautiful brick wall lining one side of the driveway as the limo pulls away. It really is a lovely day… It’s a shame I’ve got to ruin it with business. I’d love to put on a sexy bikini, bask in the warm sunshine while I sip on an apple martini. Mm. It’d be perfect. Oh, if only.

Then again, I’d rather be doing anything else but signing the next month of my life away. Ugh! I fight against the urge to sigh and, instead, dig through my purse to find something I can preoccupy myself with during the ride. And… nope, nothing. Doesn’t it figure? I’m not much for reading, not unless magazines count, but I love listening to music. It’s too bad the radio isn’t on… I frown at the dark window separating me and my mysterious driver, impatience driving me to fidget and look somewhere else. How long is this going to take-?!

 

[PsionicCuttlefish]

Fuckin' hell...this bitch was not as good an actor as she thought she was. Not a terrible one, not really, but not a great one either. She was keeping a lid on things, but her problem was it was too clear to me that she was doing so. Her smile was good, but just a little too frozen. She kept still, but the slightly ruffling of her feathers, how tense she held her body gave her away. She was agitated. Well...boo-fuckin'-hoo bitch, you will learn to get used to it if you're actually serious about doing this. I thought. With the limo pulled up, she gave me the fewest words possible in an actual response before she turned around and headed to it. I watched her go, watched her get into the limo and close the door, and watched the limo drive off. I waited until it was out of sight before I shrugged and finally turned around myself to head back inside and close my door.

Though it would take only a couple minutes, I had some paperwork to fill out and fax.

*****

For Alexis, the ride was an entirely uneventful 15 minutes. The limo quickly entered city limits after leaving Jonah's estate, so she at least could stare out the window at the busy streets and crowds as limo drove around. And indeed, after a boring few minutes, the limo was pulling into the parking lot of a major hospital. The driver parked, then got out and opened the passenger door for Alexis to step out. "I will lead you to Doctor Miller's office." The diver said as Alexis got her first real look at him; a dalmatian dog, dressed in a professional black suit, with gloves even, and a black cap on his head. Once Alexis was ready, he bowed and gestured, all part of his professional routine. "This way." From there, he led Alexis into the hospital, making no other smalltalk and walking briskly as he took Alexis up several levels in the hospital and directly to a numbered examination room. The chauffeur stood outside while Alexis went in.

Doctor Miller was an equine male, a draft horse, and he like the chauffeur seemed to be direct and to the point. He took Alexis' basic information and vitals, did an entirely normal physical examination, took some samples, did a standard gynecological exam, nothing Alexis hadn't gone through before with other doctors. While there was a fair bit for him to check and it took some time, he was efficient about it, making it seem like it had all gone fast. In contrast to the shorter car ride, in what felt like no time at all, the doctor was handing Alexis a printout of her medical report, indicating a clean bill of health. The doctor also then went to a filing cabinet to pull out and flip through a folder, before he then pulled out a particular paper and also let Alexis look at it until she gave it back. As promised, it was Jonah's own most recent medical report, dated three weeks prior, also indicating that he was fit, healthy, and clean of any diseases.

After that and when Alexis was fully re-dressed again, the doctor opened the door, exchanged a few words with the chauffeur, and the dalmatian was guiding Alexis back out of the hospital and to the limo. And from there, it was a fifteen-minute ride back to Jonah's estate, where Alexis was dropped off again at the front walkway while the limo drove away back around the small but well-designed mansion.

*****

I already knew she was there, of course. And I was already standing in place. But I waited until after she knocked on the door, with a bit of a pause, before I then opened it to see that red birdie standing on my porch again. I held out a hand. "Now you've got your proper documentation this time?" Of course she did, I had already paid for it, and I already knew what it said. Still, I was following the procedure. I wanted her to know that when I said something, when I made a set of requirements, I meant it without exemption.

 

[Frogger]

Am I seriously fixin’ to sign on the dotted line for this crazy shit? I know I’ll only have to tolerate it for a month, but fuckin’ hell, it seems like he’s askin’ an awful lot. All I want is to stab a hole in that over-inflated ego of his. I’d love to just… waltz on up to him, give him a big ol’ smile, and kick him square in the jewels… but I can’t exactly do that, now, can I? If things go well, I’ll be set for the next couple of months… and then I’ll never have to see his face again. It’s just that simple. All I’ve got to do is suck it up. Thirty days ain’t a big deal… right? I look over Jonah’s info reluctantly, a little disappointed I couldn’t find any red flags to wave in that fucker’s face. “Thanks,” I grumble, handing it back over with a scowl. Why can’t things ever go my way? I tolerate the poking and prodding, since it shouldn’t take long until I get my clean bill of health. In fact, I was allowed to get dressed again just shortly after. Hip hip… Hoo-fuckin’-ray. I roll my eyes and follow the chauffeur out.

I just can’t believe my parents were cruel enough to cut me off. I know one thing: the minute they crawl back, I’m gonna give them an earful.

*****

Just as I knock, his door swings open… though of course, I’m not in the least bit surprised. A hand juts out, and… of course, he decides to give me a bit of attitude while he’s at it. Doesn’t it figure? I fight against the impulse to tell him off, instead just handing the ‘proper documentation’ over without a damn word. Let him think what he wants. I’m just here for the money. I’m not in the least bit interested in playing nice, and I sure as here am not interested in gettin’ to know him better. No thank you! I don’t care what this contract says, I’m not going to share anything about myself unless I absolutely have to. I try not to tap my foot impatiently, just… waiting for his verdict. I know I’ll be sharing his bed for the next thirty days -give or take- but I can’t tell if he even wants me between the sheets or not. Most men are so freakin’ obvious, it isn’t funny, and yet… Jonah hides behind that arrogant act. I don’t think I like it.

I’d rather know what I’m getting into.

Powered by Froala Editor​

 

[PsionicCuttlefish]

Ooh, I could tell this Alexis girl had a lot on her tongue that she was holding back. I could just see it right in her staring eyes, and the way she carefully held her beak closed when she handed off her medical report to me. While it certainly did not escape my notice, it was still too early to tell if it made this brat unsalvageable or not. It wasn't exactly a good sign, but neither of us would know for sure if she could be properly broken until we tried it, even if I did like brat-breaking from time to time. I wasn't giving her as good odds as I would have liked, but even if she couldn't make the cut for just a month let along longer, I'd lose nothing but time, and time I had plenty of.

Her medical report was of course all in order, just that I knew it would be. No issues, she was clean. Still, I made a point of taking a minute to examine the report, with one hand bracing on the doorframe, reading it in full before I looked up back at her. "Well, looks like things are all properly in order this time." I stated simply, still holding the paper in my hand. "And since you are certainly...qualified enough to serve me, it's time we started this off on the correct foot, Lexy." I said, making sure to glance down and stare directly at her breasts and not her face, and I also put emphasis on how I abbreviated her name. I was going to call her what I wanted, whether she liked it or not. And now, it was time to make it clear, absolutely clear, that it was her choice to come to me. I needed to know if she at least thought she was ready to handle me. Surreptitiously, with one of my hands behind the doorframe and out of her sight, I flipped a switch on the door's intercom to 'record' mode. "Let's be clear on this, Lexy." I said, lifting my chin up a fraction in natural superiority, while I spoke in a strong, enunciated voice. "You come into my home, and I'm going to do a lot of shit to you. Some of it's not gonna be nice. I will teach you how to be a good submissive slave for me. You walk across this threshold," I pointed down at my doorstep with my hand holding the paper for emphasis. "your ass is mine. You get no say in anything, and I do what I want. You can bail out at any time if you wish, but if you leave before thirty days are up, you forfeit the thirty-grand payment at the end." I paused for a moment, then thought of something else I wanted to be sure was clarified. "And in case you're wondering, no, there isn't any 'catch' or 'gotcha' if you turn around right now. You won't get a surprise bill from the hospital visit or anything like that. That's a done deal, already paid for. This now is your decision, no interference." With my intercom, her answer would be on-record. I was a little worried about her, but not overly much. I didn't actually expect this to happen, but the recording was mostly just insurance against her running out my door, crying and screaming "Rape!" or some shit like that if it turned out she couldn't handle me after all. Verbal contracts were valid, and as my daddy taught me, keep everything at least on record if not in writing. Take no chances, cover all angles.

I stepped aside and put my back against my open door, with one arm sweeping 'welcomingly' into my house, and the other holding out the paper in her direction if she chose to take them and turn around. "So, with that in mind." I say, looking at her from beneath my long dark bangs. "You in, or out?" I held my breath slightly. Still not sure if you're up for this...but I hope you're in anyway, you hot piece of ass. I thought to myself. Even if you're just too much of a brat to last, I'd love to fuck you and play with those sweet tits of yours...

 

[Frogger]

First off? My eyes are up here, not down there nestled in my girls. Second? My name’s Alexis, not Lexy, asshole.

I know he just wants to pound my ass, assert his dominance over me and everything else, but does he seriously have to butcher my name? It’s just common courtesy. I’m not over here chopping his name up into little pieces, now, am I? Well. Not yet. I might at the end of this. I take a deep breath to calm my ass down, and keep the smile up so I don’t give myself away. As much as I’d love to give him a piece of my mind… I really need the money. It’s the only reason I’m here. If I had any other choice? I’d be five, no, ten thousand miles away… preferably, in a beautiful country, basking in the sun and sipping on some sort of alcoholic beverage. It doesn’t even matter what kind at this point. I feel like I need to be buzzed after experiencing Jonah’s massive ego.

How bad is it I’d love to get my hands on a margarita right about now? I get the feeling… I’m going to be very drunk for the majority of the time I’m here. I just… I can’t handle. Just because he’ll be, and I quote: ‘doing a lot of shit to me’ doesn’t mean he can treat me like shit, too. Hell no. It just ain’t happenin’. I won’t tolerate any of that crap, I know that much. Jonah expects me to be a slave? Seriously? I swear. If that’s the game he wants to play, alright. Fine. I’ll play along. So what if he does whatever he likes to my body? It’s not like it’ll mean anything. I’ve got fuckin’ opinions, and I’m my own person. All I need to do is keep my mouth shut. No big deal… right? It’s gonna be hard as hell, but long as I get what’s coming to me… I’ll be right as rain. I get no say in anything? Whatever. It’s not like I want to share my thoughts. I’ve got nothin’ to say. I place my hands on my hips, shifting my weight so I’m leaning against the door frame myself. “Sure, Jo-Jo,” I coo, making absolutely sure to add a little emphasis to my new nickname for him. Let’s see how he likes it. “I get it. And… I’m pretty sure you’ve got me recorded, so I’ll say it again: I understand.” I shift past the guy and step over the threshold, trying not to let my jaw drop while I drink everything in. Damn… just… how much dough does he have? I know I’m fixin’ to get my hands on thirty grand once the month’s up, but… clearly his family’s rolling in the stuff. I twist on my heel after a good minute or two, not in the least bit interested in beating around the proverbial bush. I’ll have to spend the next thirty days with Jonah, and I’m soo not looking forward to it. Not. One. Iota. “I’ve got stuff I need to pack,” I point out, “cause I sure as hell ain’t gonna stay here with nothin’ more than my purse and the clothes I have on my back. Do I come back tonight? Tomorrow?” I study my feathers, admiring how the light plays over the crimson red… revealing hints of orange here and there. “Or I can always return to start my ‘work week’,” I rattle off with a nonchalant shrug. I don’t really care either way. It’s not like I want to do this; he does. Jonah’s the one that’s dying to get his hands on a girl desperate enough to crawl into bed with him. I hate to say it… but I just so happened to be the girl who’s fallen into this… trap, who’s willing to play this little game. Lovely. As if I can hate the situation anymore than I already do, I sink to a whole ‘nother level of low. “I know for a fact I’m not going to stay tangled up in your sheets for the next… however many hours make up thirty days.” I wave a hand, not too worried about the details. I’m just not willing to do the math. Not right now. It’d be too depressing.

 

[PsionicCuttlefish]

Well, she's trying, if nothing else...maybe there's hope for this bitch yet. I thought to myself as she took in a deep breath and put a fake smile back on after I said her 'new' name. I could tell that quite a few thoughts were whirling around in her head after I made the 'final offer', and while I obviously didn't know what any of them were, I would bet money there was at least some bratty thoughts in there. However, she finally leaned in, trying to put on a cocky act herself...and even dared call me "Jo-Jo". I didn't react, just continued staring at her with a waiting expression--but wow she was in for a wake-up call once I put down Rule Number One. Interestingly, she actually guessed I was recording her. Maybe she isn't totally dumb after all. But, finally, she walked past me and in through the door, into my well-decorated 'lobby' of my home. Got you, bitch. Your ass is all mine now...

*Day 1*

After she had passed me, I closed the door behind her and quickly shut off the intercom while her back was turned to me. I had what I needed, in her own words. However, after a moment, she turned back around to me...and mentioned needing to leave to go pack things and come back later. She even thought she wasn't going to be "tangled up in my sheets" the whole thirty days. Well, in a way you're right...but you're also wrong, and you don't have any idea how. I stared her dead in the eyes from the door, as I slowly and openly reached one hand to the side and slightly behind myself...where I grasped and then twisted the deadbolt-lock on my front door with a click of finality that echoed through the silent receiving room of my house. "That won't be necessary." I said simply, still looking her in the eyes across the floor. Not that I was actually locking her in with me for real, mind you, it wasn't like she couldn't just undo the lock herself if she wanted to leave. No, it was just that I kept all outer doors locked as a matter of course...and the simple sound of it clicking shut on this girl who willingly walked into my clutches helped set the mood I wanted.

I continued standing by the door, with my hand on the lock, completely open about what I just did while silently looking her dead in the eyes, until she broke her gaze away. The room we found ourselves in was fairly spacious and fancy, with one wall starting just to the right of the front door and going straight ahead to make a hallway, while the receiving room extended out to the left of the front door. There was a staircase to the second floor at the other end of the receiving room, and a fireplace on the wall opposite to the hallway-wall. The decorations around were suitably lavish, and there was also a coffee table in front of the fireplace with several luxurious couches around it. While I let my soon-to-be-slut take in the view, I pulled my smartphone from my pants-pocket and thumbed to the ad I had put up online, ending it but keeping it saved in case I needed to put it up again. I then went to a side-table next to the front door and pulled out a small drawer of random supplies. I took out an envelope, which I put Lexy's medical report into. "I'm leaving this right here for now." I declare to her as I set the envelope on the side-table, then walked towards her.

"And I'll take that." I said as I reached out and grasped the strap of her purse and then, being smoothly quick as if this was totally normal, slid it right off her shoulder and arm to take the purse from her before she could react. "We'll go through your so-called belongings soon enough..." I said as I placed her purse on a side-table. After that, I stood directly in front of her with my hands clasped behind my back and my chest subtly puffed out as I looked imperiously down at her with a firm expression, my pale green eyes smoldering through the dark hair hanging over them. I was completely in charge, and needed her to see that. "Now that you're mine, little slut-birdie, let's get one thing absolutely straight immediately, this will also serve as a proper introduction. Rule Number One for you in this house and with me outside of it, the single most important rule is this: I. Am. Master." I said the last few words with extra firmness and punctuated pausing between them for strong emphasis. "You will refer to me as 'Master' and nothing else unless I specifically instruct otherwise. Every single sentence that comes out of your mouth must have the word 'Master' in it somewhere. Do you understand me?" I waited for her response while looking her right in the eyes with all my masculinity and authority.

Once she responded, I continued. "In addition, you must understand your position in relation to Master. You are not my equal. You are beneath me, you are worth nothing, except for the pleasure that you bring to me. That is your one purpose here, to please me. Any pleasure you receive that isn't simple gratefulness on your part for serving me is an incidental side-effect to what I do with you, or me deciding that I want to have a particular kind of fun with you. You are my whore now, my little slut-birdie, and by the end of thirty days if you last that long, you'll be a well-trained cock-serving bitch. Here, you will learn your true place, and the meaning of submission." Once I finished my shpiel to her, I paused for a moment to gauge her body language and reactions. I knew I was starting off strong, but the bitch was going to have to learn fast to handle me. Before she could actually reply, however, I continued. "Now, my little pet Lexy, tell me in your own words what you are, what your purpose is, and what you will be after one month here, that is assuming you don't puss out like a little chickenshit. See if you can impress me." I couldn't wait to get to some real fun with this delicious avian, but setting the tone and stage right off the bat was extremely important in a master-slave relationship like what she had agreed to. This was an important juncture, especially with how bratty she had been already. I had to identify and make note of any additional uppity, stubborn, or rebellious tendencies in her other than what I had already seen so I could begin planning and work on properly breaking her out of them.

 

[Frogger]

“Excuse me?”

Is he seriously implying I’ll be able to get by without a change of clothes? I’m soo not into the idea of borrowing his toothbrush. Nah. No way. Come on, now. Does he have a few screws loose? If so, I’m more than willing to go out and get my hands on something to help remedy the problem… though, I can’t guarantee my methods will… be beneficial for his mental health. I lift an eyebrow, daring him to say more on the issue. Oh. How cute. He thinks he can get away with playing dictator? Please. I scoff and roll my eyes, not in the least bit surprised. I know I’ve got an attitude problem, but this guy’s sporting such a huge superiority complex, it’s a wonder he doesn’t collapse under the heavy weight. Did Jonah really have to take my purse, too? As if I don't have a use for it here? I swear! I scowl and plop my happy ass down on the couch, since I’ve got nothing better to do besides twiddle my thumbs and, apparently, listen to him ramble on and on. Isn’t life just fan-fuckin’-tastic? Cue the sarcasm.

Then again, I’m the one who signed up for this stupid shit. I had no other choice, but… I knew what I was getting into. It doesn’t mean I like it, though. I just wish I didn’t have to feed his ego. “Yes, yes,” I drawl, taking the opportunity to study my nails and the pitiful shape poverty’s left ‘em in, letting boredom bleed into my tone. I don’t care what he says or what he thinks. “In other words, you can butcher my name, but I’m not allowed the same courtesy. Duly noted, Master. I understand.” I don’t even bother to hide the fact I’m rolling my eyes. I look up at him as he dares to continue on, explaining how I’m not ‘his equal’, that I’m only here to bend over and please him like some common prostitute he’s plucked up off the streets. Figures. I make my eyes meet his, as much as I don’t even want to look at the guy, and even though he’s finished his little speech, I let silence reign. Just cause Jonah’s the boss of me doesn’t mean I have to comply right away. I’ll do it in my own sweet time, thank you very much. I have to fight against the impulse to roll my eyes again, though, because… honestly, he’s grating against my nerves at this point. I get it. I don’t matter. I’m just the warm body he’ll be inserting Lil Jo-Jo into… over and over again. Ugh. I don’t like that thought.

Ha, I hate to tell him this… but he doesn’t want to hear what’s going through my head. Not. A. Word. I’m his little fucking pet for the next month, and as much as I resent the very idea… it’s nothin’ but the truth. “My sole purpose is to please you, Master,” I drawl, contempt ringing true in every single syllable that leaves my lips. I don’t care, though. He just has to deal. “I am your whore. I am your little slut, and after a month of residing under your roof, I’ll learn how to submit.” Yeah, we’ll see. I’m curious: what does he mean ‘impress him’? Didn’t I already pass his little test or whatever? I got a clean bill of health. I’ve shown up on his doorstep, against my better judgment, and I’m the best he’s gonna get, so… I don’t see why he isn’t falling to his knees, weeping tears of joy. “Anything else I need to do, Master?” I add on, just for good measure. Bend over backwards? Aren’t I already, if I’m going this far to put some cash away? I adjust myself on his couch, just itching to get out from under his gaze. I can’t put it into words what sort of look he’s giving me, but I do know one thing: it’s making my skin crawl, enduring it this long. It brings to mind the question of what he’s thinking,

More than likely? Not worth getting into. From what little I’ve learned, Jo-Jo’s one sick, twisted bastard. It ain’t my place to judge, though. I mean… I can judge, but it’s not like it’s going to do any good. It’s not my fault he needs to see a psychiatrist, a therapist, and probably a couple more doctors on top of that. I study my nails one last time, my heart sinking as I realize I probably won’t have the time -or the luxury- to do anything about the chipped polish or the cuticles. Asshole. Doesn’t he know I can’t spend every second of every day in his bed? I’ve got to have a little time to myself. Oh well. As long as he signs my check, I don’t have a good reason to complain. “Is there anything else I can do for you? Master?” I dare to ask, lifting my eyes to meet his gaze, so nothing’s ‘left to interpretation’ or whatever. All I’d like to do is get out from under those… lecherous eyes of his. Is that so much to ask for? I just signed on for this gig, a girl’s got to have time to… adjust. I can’t believe he expects me to start right away. I don’t have anything except the clothes on my back, and what I’ve stashed away in my purse. I seriously hope he doesn’t think I’m going to entertain myself with the novel I carry around in case I get held up anywhere. Yeah, no. Not for a whole month. I’m already halfway through the damn thing! If I’d know this was going to happen, I wouldn’t have read any of it on the ride here.

 

[PsionicCuttlefish]

Her disbelief and disrespect was so openly displayed as I began explaining things, it was palpable. Scoffing. Eyerolling. Disinterested examining of her nails. A mocking rephrase of how names were going to work. Holy shit, she really just did not get it. One of my eyebrows raised and my head tilted slightly. "Why, yes. That is exactly correct." I replied to her, at what she said about me being able to 'butcher' her name but she couldn't do the same. She said she understood, but no, she really didn't. Her response to my demand of the things she say back in her own words were of course loaded with sarcasm. And then she went and sat on the couch by herself. She had just broken so many 'rules' of being a BDSM slave and didn't have the slightest clue. There was no doubt, this girl was possibly the brattiest bitch I had ever worked with.

Well. It was time for some breaking.

I wasn't angry, not genuinely. Truth be told, I was a little excited for the next part, she gave me an excuse to jump straight to it. But her words, actions, and attitude demanded a very specific response, so I played to it. I closed my eyes and slowly inhaled a deeeeep breath through my nose, with my whole body tense, as if I was trying to hold back anger. "...Yep. I'm impressed, all right." I said in a quiet voice barely above a whisper, without exhaling. Everything about my body screamed 'furious--or at least seriously pissed off--but fighting to keep control'. I then exhaled and opened my eyes and looked at her with, intentionally, an 'unsettlingly and ominously calm expression'. I walked over to one armrest end of the couch and stood there, with my hands folded behind my back as I stared at her with intent, unblinking eyes. "Yes, Lexy, there is something you can do. Stand up. Come here." I said, again, intentionally putting out a 'dangerously calm' tone, one that expected immediate and unquestioning compliance. I waited until she did so, coming to stand in front of me, as I continued to stare at her for a moment, chin raised, chest slightly puffed out, eyes gleaming with intense focus and danger. I wanted her to feel like I was one wrong move away from snapping on her.

I brought my hands up between us and placed them on her shoulders...then I spun her to face away from me, towards the couch, standing right before the armrest of it. Then I pushed her upper body forward, but held her hips and legs back--forcing her to bend forward over the armrest, legs handing over the edge, with her upper body falling face-first into the couch cushions.

And, as intended, her jeans-covered ass was prominently on display, facing towards me, up in the air with her hips on the armrest of the couch.

"I am impressed," I spoke up again, still letting my voice sound 'calm but holding back rage' while placing one hand between her shoulderblades and holding her hips down with my other hand. "that you've managed to so thoroughly earn yourself discipline before we've even actually started on anything, I just gave you Rule Number One and you just trampled all over it. Like, seriously, we haven't even done anything yet and you've become a bad slave-pet in need of correction. That takes some real talent, birdie-bitch." The front of my pants were already starting to bulge out hard as I stood to the side and behind her, before I even started working my hand on her jeans, pulling the beltline down to her thighs, and then letting it drop the rest of the way to her ankles, leaving her with only her panties...but otherwise, with her feathery ass bare and exposed to me, her tailfeathers short enough to offer no protection. I then placed my hand not pressing into her back on one asscheek, and slowly dragged it across to the other, making sure the motion was as slow and disturbing as I could make it, with it being just slightly gropey. I wanted to give her a moment for it to sink in, for her to realize exactly where this was going. "So, time for some correction."

I lifted my hand up from her ass. "Slave-pets do not disrespect Master with eye-rolls."

I brought my hand down on her round rear. *smak!* I made sure to do it hard enough for it to sting a little, but I was actually being extremely measured and careful--I was very specifically not trying to actually hurt her. No, I wanted her to be humiliated.

I lifted my hand again. "Slave-pets do not disrespect Master with scoffing." *smak!*

"Slave-pets do not disrespect Master with sarcastic tones." *smak!*

"And, while we are at it." I raised my hand one final time. "Slave-pets do not sit on couches without Master's permission." *smak!*

The front of my pants were bulging solidly by the time I gave Lexy her fourth spank. I hooked one of my feet around and slid it between her calves and down to her ankles, stepping on the middle of her jeans and pulling them the rest of the way off her own feet before I finally let go of her back with my pressing hand, and instead grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back up to a standing position and facing towards me. Just, of course, with her jeans off her legs and on the floor. I again stared firmly into her face, reading her expression carefully in the aftermath of her discipline. "Now you are a good slave-pet again. For now." I said mildly, though my stare was anything but.

This was it though, this was going to be the moment of truth. What characterized a bratty submissive was an incorrect attitude that they are equal, let alone superior, to a Dominant. A bratty submissive was fixed by being appropriately humbled. I would bet money that Lexy, spoiled-rotten as she seemed to be, had never in her life felt the way I made her feel just now. There were really only two outcomes from here. Either one, she picked up her jeans, grabbed her purse, unlocked the door, and left--in which case, good riddance as she was seriously not cut out for this. Or two, she finally obtained at least something approaching a clue to her situation, and stayed. In that case, I was thinking I would probably actually be seriously generous and give her some real advice to help her from that point forward.

But first, I had to see what she was going to do at this juncture.

 

[Frogger]

I can’t believe how delusional this guy is. Seriously? Is the stick that far up his ass? I know I’ve got an attitude, but his ego is just… something else. I have to say, I’m honestly shocked nobody’s lost patience and slapped that arrogant smirk right off his face. I’d do it, if it wasn’t for the fact I have to peel every crisp dollar bill I can out of Jonah’s wallet. I doubt I’ll be able to do that if I give him a piece of my mind. I lift my gaze, not in the least bit surprised to find him with a displeased glower, every inch of his body tense with… not anger, but… something I can’t quite put my finger on. It’s like the calm before the storm: I can smell the ozone, I just don’t know how bad the clouds are gonna roll in. I lift an eyebrow at the ridiculous ‘request’ he’s thrown my way, only, what other choice I have but to comply? I signed on the dotted line. I’ve got a legal obligation to be his bitch.

Ain’t that just a healthy dose of reality? Ugh. I just about choked on how it was shoved down my throat.

Life’s certainly taken a turn for the worse, hasn’t it? I had to fight not to roll my eyes, and to keep my mouth zipped, otherwise I’ll say any number of things I’m sure to regret later. Just like any other subservient girl, I do as I’m told, getting my ass up so I can face the music. Knowing what little I do about Jonah? I’m not going to like whatever he’s got planned. Then again, am I ever going to? I doubt it. I lift my head up high, knowing very well this is liable to piss him off more and… well, not really caring if it does or not. If it does? Lovely. If it doesn’t? Oh well. It’d just be a shame, though, that my efforts might be a waste of time. I have to bite back words when he brought his hands up to my shoulders… I just didn’t think he’d do anything. My world spun, though… and, well… before I knew it, I’m bent over the armrest of his couch with my ass sticking up into the air. I didn’t have a fucking choice, either. Nope! Doesn’t that figure? I swear: story of my life. I go to brace myself, but of course, I can’t. I’ve fallen into the couch cushions face-first, and my legs are dangling in a way I’m pretty damn sure isn’t attractive whatsoever. In other words? He’s out to ‘put me in my place’. Ain’t that just… adorable. NOT. I can’t do anything except breathe in the scent of this… lemon spritz some maid likes to spray in obsessive amounts, cause damn, I’m choking on the shit, and endure this humiliation.

Mother-fucker-! Did he just call me a slave-pet? Don’t I deserve a little more respect than that? I might’ve signed up to be his bed buddy for the next thirty days, but I don’t deserve to be treated like… well, like I’ve got no rights. I don’t deserve to have my name butchered, and I certainly don’t deserve to be bent over his couch like a misbehaving three-year-old, I know that much!

He’s just lucky that I can’t shove him off, otherwise I’d be punching hi so hard in the mouth, he wouldn’t be able to chew solid food until he sees a dentist.

No. Way. Get your hands off my shorts-! I had to bite back a retort as he dragged his hand over one ass cheek, cranking the creepy factor from, say, a four or five… all the way up to a fucking forty-five. Honestly? I’m not entirely surprised. Isn’t this just an act? To ‘exert his authority’ over me? Well, guess what? I’m not buying it. I grit my teeth, fixing to push myself up and give him a piece of my mind, whether he wants to hear it or not… but apparently, he had the fucking audacity to start… spanking me. It wasn’t so hard that it’ll leave a bruise, and yet it stung enough to where I’ll be feeling it later. Of course, it was nothing in comparison to the blows done to my pride. I couldn’t do a damn thing. Once. Twice. Four Times. Four. And he just had to make his point across that while I’m here, I don’t have any opinions. I don’t get to do as I please. Ooh, no, I don’t have any free will. I’m not allowed to do anything without his explicit permission. Fine, then. If that’s how he wants to play, I’ll play along. I know the rules. I know one thing: he isn’t going to like the way I twist the rules to my advantage. Sorry, not sorry. I’m pulled into an upright position after the fourth smack on my ass, and even though I can finally give him a piece of my mind… I don’t. I’m not willing to give him that satisfaction.

Take a deep breath, girl. You can do this. All you’ve got to do is last the month, right?

Jo-Jo didn’t ‘give permission’ to speak, so I don’t open my mouth. I fight against the impulse to frown, scowl, all of the above, because I don’t want him to know what’s going through my head, so… I just stare right back at him, hands limp but shoulders thrown back.

Right about then… I realized one important fact, something I’ll never admit to anybody, most certainly not to this guy’s face.

I don’t know why, but… after this humiliating experience, I’m… just a little bit… wet.

Again, I’ll never say it. Not in a million fucking years. Not even then! I will never let the words be spoken, not even if I’m turning into a crispy chicken in the depths of Hell.

Let’s see how he likes it that I just keep my mouth shut. I’ve got nothing good to say, and I’m pretty damn sure he isn’t interested in hearing my opinion on things. So? My lips are zipped, and I’m not pulling out the key anytime soon. Of course I’ve got plenty to say on things, but it’s all confidential. He wants to know? Too bad. So sad. It’s not like he can pry them out of my head, and I really doubt he’ll demand to know, either. I keep my gaze locked on his, my jaw clenched, my head held high with what little dignity I’ve left to my name… just waiting to see what this arrogant prick is gonna do next.

 

[PsionicCuttlefish]

As I carefully examined the red birdie-girl (while maintaining my 'restrained anger' demeanor) throughout the simple demands I made of her, then how I bent her over and gave her a good ass-swatting, one thing was certain; She did not realize just how full of herself she was, nor was she at all good at hiding it. Every facial expression she made, every aspect of her body language shouted how she had no real idea how to actually manage herself, how she clearly thought every second of her being here, everything that I did, was something 'beneath' her (the squawks she made at each spank was musical, though, as befitting a birdie-bitch). It was all good information, and I would have to put it to use--if she stayed after that spanking I just gave her. After I finished and stood her back up with only her panties on below the waist...those eyes were still just full of defiance. Her beak was tightly closed as she stared at me indignantly and pridefully. I waited for several moments, staring back with my more 'normal' smoldering glare, to see if she had enough and was about to turn tail. That said, while her eyes were still challenging me as openly as they could in silence, I saw a faint glimmer of something else briefly wash through her gaze. It wasn't conscious, and it wasn't precisely clear what it was, but it was something akin to worry...or shame. Hm, interesting...there are a few things that could be... But still, I waited. She did nothing but stand there. I folded one arm across my chest, and brought my other hand up to my chin as if 'considering' something as our silent staring match went on. However, by this point, it was clear I had my answer.

I stayed silent for just a few moments longer, before I finally spoke up, in my haughty-but-evaluating voice. "You aren't leaving then. Very well. You're committed, I'll give you that." Normally I wouldn't 'discuss back' a potential sub's own mental state, but with how much of a brat this bitch was, she needed a special touch. Even further, it was clear she really wanted to get through this--whether it was just for the money or to prove something to herself or me, I didn't have enough information to know yet and honestly didn't care--but she was even more unprepared than I had expected for a girl answering my ad. Thus, I made the decision to do something else I would normally have never done with a sub-in-training. "So in that case, I don't usually do this, but I'll...'step out' for a moment..." I said, before letting my arms fall back down to my sides.

I then closed my eyes. I inhaled a slow, deep breath through my nose--not like the 'I am angry but holding it back' inhalation I did before, but more of a relaxed, refocusing inhalation. My chest lifted slightly with the deep breath...then I let it go in a soft woosh through my mouth as I smoothly opened my eyes back up. With that, I 'reset' my gaze. I was no longer looking at her with my stare of intelligent superiority, no longer staring with a hardness or ogling hunger in my eyes. My face was relaxed, my eyes softened, even the way I held my eyelids was different. My posture had changed too; with the swift exhalation, I had let go of my subtle but strong 'commanding' posture, and now had taken on a casual posture, shoulders more relaxed, my spine held differently. Individually, any one of these changes might have been hard to notice. But taken all together, there was no way even she could miss that there was, very suddenly, something different about me. And then I opened my mouth. "Look, I'm gonna give you some serious advice now."

And with that, my little 'transformation' was complete. My voice was totally different. Gone was every trace of my smug tones--instead, my tone was fully casual, inflected differently, softer, in a voice of someone trying to be helpful. My pitch was half an octave higher. Even my accent was different; not a very strong one, but detectably different. There was nothing about me that significantly 'looked' different, yet, I was still a 'completely different' person. In that moment, I was no longer Jonah, the Lecherous Master. I was just Jonah, a guy.

Many people underestimated the value of acting lessons.

"If you're really going to try and stick it out for a full month, the one thing you need to know is..." I said, still in a casual voice, before I then leaned forward slightly; not in an overbearing or intimidating manner but just in a kind of 'this is important' manner. "Stop. Fighting me." There was emphasis in my voice, but nothing really stern or firm, just enough emphasis to really focus attention on those three words, before I then leaned back again. "A 'misbehaving' BDSM slave is fine, fun even, but you haven't even been here ten minutes yet and you've still trying to challenge me at every single step of the way. That is not going to work, you won't last if you don't cut that out. If all you're here for is the payout at the end, that's fine, but if you continue to show a complete lack of adaptability, of actually grasping what it means to be a BDSM slave, I'll have to show you to the door myself. I'd rather not do that, though if you think there aren't any other girls out there who would be willing to sign up for this, well...you'd be surprised. Eventually--and I don't expect you to get this right away--you have to start thinking about things in terms of what I want. Again, I don't expect you to do it perfectly right now, but just keep that in mind. And again, I don't care if you stay for the month, take the money, and go. I'm not saying you have to like it..." The corner of my mouth quirked up just slightly. "I'm saying you just have to at least act like it." I explained everything with a smoothed-out, casual voice, putting some emphasis on certain words here and there, but not at all speaking 'forcefully'. I wasn't talking like I was giving her orders, nothing was spoken like it was a threat, even as a 'warning' my voice was mild. I was talking like I was honestly trying to give her advice so she could help herself. It was completely incompatible with the person I had been up until now. Normally, I would never have tipped my hand like this to a sub-in-training, but Alexis really needed a perspective check; I hoped the dissonance would be jarring enough to get her to actually start thinking, rather than continually falling back on her excessively-rebellious unconscious instinct.

That said, with advice dispensed, I closed my eyes again and inhaled a deep breath through my nose. When I let out the breath in a swift exhale this time...I had changed again. My posture had straightened back up to my full commanding presence. My eyes gleamed with carnal desire, my lips had curled back into that condescending smug grin. "Now, where were we, Lexy-bitch? Oh yes..." I spoke, and my 'transformation' was again complete; my voice was back to its I'm-Master-and-I-know-it pitch and tone and accent. Jonah the Lecherous Master had returned. The mask was back on...orrrr, had I just put a mask on to give her that advice, and now took it back off again? Which one was my 'real' side? Or were they both different masks? With how much self-awareness she lacked, I wouldn't be surprised if it was too ambiguous for her to tell which side of me was 'real', though it also wouldn't matter if she could tell. All that really mattered was that I had just shown one important thing to her;

I know...exactly...what I'm doing.

Back in control and making sure my presence made the air tense again, I took a step to the side and clasped my hands behind myself, with shoulders raised, head leaned forward, and my eyes drilling into her to give off a predatory posture. I began walking around her in a very slow circle, expecting that she'd stay rooted in place as I stalked around her, deliberately playing up my predatory wolf stereotype...likely helped by the fact that aside from her panties, her legs were bare and exposed. "Now, I need to know exactly what kind of slut I have to work with here, and how much training she needs." I said, still with a calm, but low voice. "Lexy, my pet whore, tell me how many men or women you have been with intimately. Tell me what kind of sexual acts you have performed with others before, and what you are familiar with. I want to know everything about whatever sexual experience you have." I spoke the command with a casual tone of authority, that I expected to be obeyed, like it was a forgone conclusion, not answering wasn't an option. Just as a Master should be.

 

[Frogger]

I’m committed alright - I’ve got no other choice but to grit my teeth and endure every little jab at my pride, because where else can I go? My parents haven’t crawled back to beg for my forgiveness yet. I can’t go home, not until that happens. I sure as hell don’t plan on spending any nights out on the streets, either. Nope. Not a single night. Fuck that shit! I’m just… I’m out of options. I have to put up with his contempt and snide comments, otherwise… I’ll have to do something I’m sure to regret later on. Then again… I’m liable to regret this at some point or another. Most likely tonight, lying awake and staring up at the ceiling with everything from dread to fury making me toss and turn. I hate to say it, too, but: I’m not buying his act. I’ve already seen just how good an actor he is, and… well, guess what? I think he just likes to hear himself talk. All this is is… a monologue, an opportunity to take center-stage. I swear. I know I’ve got the sexiest voice, but I don’t create situations where I have to speak, just so I can hear myself go on about absolutely nothing important. Damn. Does he need that much of an ego boost? I’d never have guessed. I read plenty of confidence between the lines of his ridiculous ad… so… I thought he was pretty much set in that department? I don’t know. I don’t know him well enough to say with 100% certainty, but I do know this: he’s completely insane if he thinks I’m going to fall into his little trap, he needs to think again. I paste on a thoughtful frown, though, regardless, and nod in all the appropriate places to give the impression I’m listening. Hey, I don’t plan on wasting my precious time listening to him prattle on. Sorry! Not sorry.

Besides, it’s not like he’s listened to me at all during this whole… exchange. Please. I know better. It’s best I play along, though, so I can make sure I’ve got a room under his roof. I don’t like the idea of going back out there and… groveling at the feet of some stranger to let me spend the night at their place. Yeah. No. I’ve already signed Jo-Jo’s stupid contract, so I might as well stay here until my time’s up. I know one thing: if he thinks I’m going to volunteer to be his submissive sex slave and just… hand over my body, that way he can get an heir or whatever, he better think again. Do I play along, though? I mean, it’s probably what he expects me to do… and it’s probably the best thing to do, considering. Ugh. Seriously. I hate playing by the rules-! I fight against the impulse to roll my eyes, to huff and puff, instead keeping my expression neutral.

Needless to say… I wasn’t the least bit surprised to find the air crackle with his so-called ‘assertive dominance’. Now, I don’t give a flying fuck how big and bad he thinks he is, and I certainly don’t care for that predatory glint in his eyes. I just want to get some cash in my wallet, so I can wave it all in my parents’ faces when they come crawling back. I want a roof over my head. I want a warm bed to sleep in, and unfortunately… it looks like I’ve got to set aside my dignity and pride just to have that. I just don’t understand why every guy’s ego needs a daily hand-job… Besides, I’ll be ‘behaving’, or whatever. It’s not like I’m gonna go out of my way to, say, piss in his coffee. Nah. It’d be a waste of precious effort, energy and time. I’ll be the perfect sex slave. Yuck. I didn’t think that’d leave such a sour taste-! Jo-Jo starts circling me, a ‘predator’ staring down prey… only, he has no clue I’m not very intimidated. No, wait: very? Let me rephrase: I’m not intimidated… at all. In fact, I roll my eyes when he can’t possibly see me doing just that, and pulled some oxygen into my lungs. Isn’t he satisfied with the reality I’ve got a doctor to check me out and say I’m clean? It doesn’t seem that way.

“Let me see,” I drawl, eyes drifting up towards the ceiling. “I don’t know how many men and women I’ve been with, since I don’t keep track… but I’m not a virgin. As for my sexual exploits, I’d say I’ve been exposed to a fair bit.” What else am I supposed to say? I don’t care to go into explicit detail about every single little thing I’ve done between the sheets… or anywhere else, with or without clothes. I release a sigh after a good minute or two, knowing fully well that isn’t a good enough answer for this asshole. “I don’t know what to tell you, or what you want to hear,” I finally admit, even though it’s against my better judgment.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m no saint… but I’m certainly not squeaky clean, either.

 

[PsionicCuttlefish]

Of course, I paid close attention to Lexy's every reaction as I spoke to her and gave her the little run-down without being in 'dominant-mode', but...even so, it doesn't always take a good actor to recognize a bad one. She nodded at what I said, but her gaze was not fully focused on me, giving away how distant and uncaring she was. I could see right away that she was actually going to take my advice and 'act' the way I wanted her to, but only at the bare minimum. What a pity. At this point I knew there was a high likelihood that she was not going to last the full month, and even if she did, she was unlikely to stick around. Oh well. I wasn't going to change any of my plans of course--as long as she did act the way I wanted her to, I'd get my fun one way or another. The only question was if she'd manage it long enough to get the payout she so transparently wanted. As long as I got my fun, I was fine with that.

I will give her one thing; she had a fair bit of spine to so obviously blow off my 'predator circling', even if most of that was just because of her sheer brattiness and unawareness. And, of course...she still had to be difficult in her answer to my question. Well, I continued to slowly take one step at a time, continued to circle around her after she spoke. "I was quite clear, Lexy. But if my slut really lacks the ability to comprehend, I will repeat it for her." I said in a 'mild' voice, albeit of course still with my dominant tone and accent on the casual insult. I was patient when I had to be, and I would be here as long as it took to get it into her head that this kind of no-effort was not going to cut it with me. "I want to know exactly what your sexual experience consists of. I want to know in how many different ways you have fucked, any other sexual acts you have done before. List them. Estimate how frequently you have done each. I am not asking for a literal play-by-play of every time you have ever done something sexual, nobody's memory is that good, just tell me in what ways you have had sex before, with others, with toys, positions, acts, kinks, anything. We are not moving on until you do." My voice was still mild, but firm and expectant. And, after circling around her a couple more times, I stopped in front of her and turned to face her, staring the crimson avian down with direct eye-contact over my wolf muzzle while keeping my hands authoritatively held behind my back. I was completely serious, we would not move on until she gave me what I demanded, I was not going to let her think she could get away with this kind of lack of effort. Unless she was going to decide to walk out the door, she would give me the explicit details I wanted, one way or another.

 

[Frogger]

Cute. Doesn't it figure that he's going to take advantage of this prime opportunity to chip away at what little dignity I've left. Asshole. I'd love to flick him off… only, I can't. I have to take advantage of this situation myself, or else I'm gonna be out on the street. Yeah… No. Not an option, not in a million years. I'd rather whore myself out to Mr. Jackass here than to do that, and I definitely can't crawl back to Mom and Pops. I release a great, big ol' sigh, not in the least bit shy about sharing my exasperation over this whole ordeal. "Fine, whatever," I dismiss, even though I'd love to point out that he doesn't need to insult my intelligence just to keep up the act. It's just annoying at this point. I understand he has to stroke his ego somehow or another… but jeez, enough's enough. "Let me think, um…" I bend to pull up my shorts, offering the pervert an excellent view of my breasts in the meantime. I don't care what he thinks, I'm not going to go into explicit detail about my sexual exploits like this. Hell no. "I've been bent over on a train, so I've done it in a public place before. Real turn-on."

What else? I pause halfway through the task, just trying to think of what else I could share… only to come up blank. Damn! Has my sex life been that boring? Yikes. I’m soo not going to share that particular detail with this pervert. “I’ve been flat on my back, on top of a guy or two, and bent over,” I list off, “and I’ve done plenty of blowjobs, if you really want to know. I once dated this guy with a foot fetish… not my finest moment. I haven’t had too much experience using toys. What else am I leaving out? Um…” Jonah can huff and puff all he likes, I’m not going to tell him every fucking thing. I don’t give a damn what he says or thinks - a lady has a right to her privacy. “I think that’s about it,” I decided right then and there, about to pull my shorts the rest of the way up. “I’m gonna get straight to the point. I’d like to see my room, if Your Royal Highness will allow me, and I’d like the chance to settle in before I’m your slave for the next thirty days. So how about it?” Come on. Jonah can at least keep his paws off me until tomorrow, right?

 

[PsionicCuttlefish]

My new slave-pet was clearly unhappy with my demands and made sure to show it. I didn't know what exactly she was thinking about, but I could tell it had to be something about her psyching herself up to stay anyway. Poor bratty bitch, little did she realize how much further she was screwing up. First, her "fine, whatever" acknowledgement was missing that crucial, all-important word. I then watched as she started to get her shorts back on, but I didn't react, instead I settled for allowing her to tighten her own noose (and enjoying the pleasant view of her cleavage). She began describing her sexual exploits to me, and that part she actually did fine with; while minimal, she gave me exactly the details I wanted. Turned on by public play? That was extremely good to know. An experienced cocksucker too, while I would have enjoyed training that into her myself, this also worked just fine. And inexperienced with toys, oh boy. She was going to get lots of experience with those...if she actually stayed for any significant length of time. With "Royal Highness", I continued to adjust my mental evaluation of her. At this point, I was reasonably sure she was not actually going to make a full month...but then again, it's still the first day, so things haven't had time to properly settle into sure patterns. Either way, I would enjoy her for every minute that I did have her in my clutches, and that included dealing with her brattiness my way. If she wanted to keep giving me opportunities to beat on her ass, well...by all means, I would keep taking them.

"Well, that is a good summary of your sexual experience, and exactly what I was asking for. Good. " I said in a normal voice, then paused. "...But...Lexy". I finally said, in a firmly forceful, yet calm voice to focus her attention on me after she asked her questions as I stared at her. Her questions were unimportant, for now at least. I casually brought one of my hands out from behind my back and pointed low at her waist. "I took those shorts off of you myself. That means I wanted them off. You have just disobeyed what I wanted by putting them back on without permission." I paused, for a brief second. "And you called me 'Royal Highness' instead of 'Master'. And, when you said 'fine, whatever', you did not say Master at all." I stepped in close to her, almost pressing our bodies together as I reached both my hands to each side of her hips, all while staring down at her with an intense--but anticipating, not angry--gaze. "You have just broken Rule Number One...again...thrice in a row. You are a bad slutpet again." I grabbed the edges of her shorts and pushed them back down again, to let them fall back down to her ankles. I then nudged and pointed her back to the arm-rest of the sofa. "Now we need to fix you again. Bend over." I said, but didn't wait very long for her to comply and continued pushing on her shoulders to get her back into position.

Once she was, belly laying on the sofa's arm-rest with her feathery ass all nice and exposed except for her panties again, I placed my other hand on her soft asscheeks and started rubbing over them indulgently, but I didn't press my other hand in between her shoulderblades or the back of her neck this time. "Since you have just broken the rules again so soon, the birdyslut now needs double punishment to be fixed again. Two strokes for each offense. Also, I recommend you hold your ass still, don't try to move it out of the way..." I said casually, the bulge in my pants already hardening up again as I drunk the high of discipline-administering enjoyment. I continued feeling up her ass for a second, then paused my hand.

"Slave-pets will answer Master with 'fine, whatever, Master'." I then lifted my hand high up...and brought it down once, then quickly twice, giving Lexy a swift and firm *smak, smak!* swat on each asscheek, with a smidge less held-back-force than the first time, and kept my hand in place on her ass after the second stroke.

I held still for a moment, then started groping her freshly-spanked ass again. Then my hand paused. "Slave-pets do not put on clothes without Master's permission." I then repeated the procedure, lifting my hand up and bringing it down twice in quick succession again, once more landing a stinging *smak, smak!* on each of her curvy buns, immediately returning to caressing that fine ass afterwards.

A third time, my hand then paused after feeling her up for a moment. "Slave-pets will refer to Master as Master, and nothing but Master, unless explicitly instructed otherwise." I lifted my hand up--but did not bring it down again right away. Instead, I waited for the reflexive and expectant slight flinch in her muscles to pass...then I brought my hand down on one half of her ass. *smak!* I lifted my hand back up immediately, but also did not bring it back down again right away. I paused for a few seconds, deliberately, to keep her guessing...before I delivered the final stroke to the other half of her ass with one last sharp *smak! At this point, counting earlier, she had just gotten five spanks on each of her cheeks, ten in total, in less than that number of minutes. Her be-hind had to be smarting a little persistently now.

Fuck, the front of my pants was so fucking hard.

And of course, the entire time, I was watching carefully to see if she actually had the self-control to avoid moving her rear, more than just natural negligible muscle-tensing...

 

[Frogger]

For some reason I can't even begin to put into words… my heart skips a beat at hearing my name in such a firm, forceful tone, and electricity prickles over my skin. I didn’t even get the chance to think it through before the curiosity burns to a crisp in the presence of anger and bruised pride. Didn’t he just listen to a word I said? Come on! I swear… I’m supposed to hang onto his every word, yet he can’t even bother to-! I lift my chin up as he steps closer… our bodies almost pressing together, making my heart start beating again, only faster and harder than usual. Intensity has his eyes glowing… to the point where I almost stumbled over myself when I’m nudged back. Indignation flares up inside my chest. I lift a hand to push him away, to give him a piece of my mind… only, I was a little too slow. A hand on my shoulders puts me back in “position”, belly pressing into the armrest and ass raised up into the air… but at least he didn’t pull my panties down. I just don’t get why he’s got to play this game… I mean, was he bullied when he was younger? Is this… really necessary? I bite back a string of curses I’m just dying to let loose, instead glaring at the back of the sofa… as if the damn thing can catch on fire with my pure, unadulterated fury. I brace myself for what’s coming… only, I didn’t expect him to start rubbing a hand over the silky material, like… he’s admiring a brand new car, which only served to piss me off even more. I’m not a piece of property. I don’t care if I signed on the dotted sign, and I don’t care if he intends to chain me to his bed for the next thirty days… I’m a person, too.

Two strokes? Isn’t that a bit much? I mean, seriously. I think he’s drunk on the power of his position… I roll my eyes but otherwise say nothing, cause, really, what’s the point? It’s not like he’ll listen. Nope! The words will only fall on deaf ears, and I’m just not interested in wasting my breath. I press my elbows down into the cushions, since he isn’t holding me down like he did earlier… but I didn’t expect him to start spanking me right then and there. Once, twice his hand hits my ass… swift and firm, punishing me in order to feed his over-inflated ego. A pause leaves my skin prickling… anticipation and excitement curling in the lowest regions of my belly. I can’t help but curl my hands into fists, because… I don’t want to obliviate what little pride I’ve got left by acknowledging these feelings. His Royal Highness didn’t wait very long to fondle, to grope and admire what he’s recently bought… like my body is a brand-new, shiny convertible he’s about to climb into and drive off the lot. It’s insulting… and it stings. Figuratively and literally. Another two smacks followed soon after the fact, leaving my ass more sore like I’d like to admit… and… no way, am I wet?! Again?! It doesn’t make any sense!! I listen to his words, just brushing them off while I prepare myself for more ‘punishment’. At this point, I think he’s only doing this because he enjoys touching my ass. Not that I blame him. I’ve got a fine ass.

Of course I do everything in my power to remain absolutely still, just to aggravate him… but at some point or another, I started moving in some… unconscious attempt to avoid getting spanked. I couldn’t help it. So what if I gave him a little attitude? He deserves it after treating me the way he has… and I can’t tolerate this behavior much longer. Is he ever going to stop posing? I’d like to go to my room, unpack my things, and take a long, hot shower. It’s been a long day already. I know it’s only… what? Noon? Something like that? I know it’s still early, but I feel like a year has been stuffed into just a couple of minutes. As much fun as this has been… I’ve had quite enough, thank you very much. I can only handle so much before I lose my shit.

In fact… I’m doing everything in my power not to turn around and slap that smirk right off his face. I’d love to do it. Trust me. If it wasn’t for the fact I have to rely on him to get by… so I don’t sleep around with any old pervert waving a fist full of money my way, I’d risk doing it. I can’t stand the fact I have to let him do this.

Come on… Is he done yet? I steal a glance at His Royal Highness over my shoulder, lifting my chin defiantly.

 

[PsionicCuttlefish]

The look in her eyes before I put her over the couch, and the subtle ways in which her body tensed before I even began, were all recognizable to me as barely-contained anger and frustration. While it certainly wasn't ideal for a potential BDSM slave to carry those kinds of feelings, the mere fact she was holding it back was somewhat of a good sign. Of course, once I started in on the punishment, I monitored her closely--not just to make sure she was 'behaving', but mostly because I just plain enjoyed it. Her every twitch, every tiny involuntary flinch, every gasp and squeak the red birdy made...all of it was a delicious spectacle for me. Oh, I could easily tell that she haaaated it, even without seeing her face directly...or at least, I could see that she wanted to hate it. Between the spanking and the groping, it wasn't long before I detected the familiar scent of female arousal. I could only wish I could grin wider. Perfect. However, just as I was set to deliver the final spank...her hips jerked to the side, too much, enough that my aim is almost spoiled! Well, I had warned her...

"Tsk, tsk, tsk..." I made chiding sounds at her as she turned her head over her shoulder to look at me with an adorably impotent glare, with my face taking on a false-regretful expression. "Your ass moved, Lexy...you tried to avoid your discipline. Only bad slave-pets don't take their discipline fully..." I said as I shook my head and sighed theatrically. "I'm not sorry, I'm not afraid I am going to have to repeat your discipline. Six more strokes." I said, with that 'faux-concerned' and insincere sort of tone...except, I actually did change my words to match! My face split back into a grin as I reached one hand towards her head to nudge her into looking forward again. "And if necessary, it will be repeated again, as many times as it takes for you to properly accept your discipline without trying to get out of it..." I knew very well I was coming on extremely strong, and with the kind of temperament she had, it was probable that she would bail out from this, but...I was enjoying myself, and if she couldn't handle this, then there's no way she'd be able to handle me when I got serious, and we both deserved to know that right away.

I reached my hand out to grab onto one of her asscheeks again...I slowly rubbed my hand across it, kneaded the palm of my hand into that plush tush and spent a few long moments doing it....before I then brought my hand up and swatted it back down! *smak!* "One." As soon as my hand landed however, I immediately flattened my hand out and rubbed it across where I had struck...and then I slid my hand further down, getting between her thighs, and rubbed my hand up against her panty-covered groin--which I could feel had gotten very noticeably damp! Now we both knew that I knew that part of her body was enjoying this. This was perfect, exactly what I wanted. I then vigorously shook my hand between her clenched thighs, rubbing up against her groin and intentionally stimulating her. In a quick motion, I then slid my hand back up and out, then delivered another swift spank to her other asscheek! *smak!* "Two." As I continued with this repeat of her punishment, I made sure to be even more gropey than I was the first time. *smak!* "Three." I varied where my hand was going, unevenly spaced out the individual spanks, making sure she couldn't predict when it was going to come. *smak!* "Four." As I groped and kneaded her ass and even dove my hand down to keep teasing at her panty-covered pussy, I even faked her out by lifting my hand and moving like I was about to spank her, waited for the involuntary tense of her muscles to pass, then gently put my hand back down and resumed feeling her up...only to then quickly deliver another. *smak!* "Five." Above all, I wanted her body to be as physically confused as possible. I wanted her body to be mixing up pain with pleasure, associating and entwining the two. If, IF she were to stay, then this was important groundwork to be laying to eventually mold her into what I wanted. I made sure her panties were starting to get nice and soaked...before I finally finished up. *smak!* "And six." I had not been gentle with any of the spanks by any measure, making sure to slap my hand onto her ass firmly and decisively, in a way that had to have her stinging by now, even through the 'soothing' sensation of my groping and massaging of her ass between spanks. Pain and pleasure, blended together. I monitored all her little actions through it all just the same, but impressively, she had at least managed to stay put this time. "And you did not move your ass out of the way. Very good. Discipline complete." I said before pausing, but did not indicate for her to get up yet.

"Anyway, bitch. Only one last detail to go over, I skipped it the first time but it must be addressed now. You know what you did wrong, why you just got punished--initially of course, before the repeat. But there's another small, yet important thing that happened, one last little thing you must do." I started speaking in a low, smooth rumble of a voice. At the same time, I started to trace a single fingertip back and forth across her ass in little patterns. Even as turned on and raging stiff as I was, there was no rush. "You were a bad slutpet, because you forgot a rule and did something wrong. Now that you have taken your discipline, you are a good slutpet again. Do you understand? You were a bad girl, and I made you a good girl again. I did you a favor. When a slutpet has done something bad and wants to be good again, that's why they want their discipline to make them good again. And whenever Master has done something nice for his sexy little red birdyslut, that slave-pet should be grateful. So, Lexy..." I spoke with my calm, confident voice, stating everything as indisputable fact, all the while my finger was trailing around her back and ass randomly.

But done with that, I then abruptly pulled on her shoulder and hauled her back up from over the sofa. I turned her to face me. I didn't bother picking up the shorts myself to hold them out of her reach--hell, if she wanted to try it again, I'd happily let her! I was unashamedly grinning by the time I had her face me again too, and if she bothered to look down, she'd probably see a rather significant tent in my groin that I also was completely unashamed about. "Since you know what you did wrong, say these words to me now: 'I was a bad birdy, Master, thank you for punishing me. I deserved it.' Say those words, then we will move on." My eyes bored into hers as I looked at her with a still-smirking and expecting expression. As long as she was in my house, she was agreeing to my authority over her, and my demand was laid out. I wanted her to thank me for the humiliating act...although, my face then split into an even wider grin. "...Or don't, in which case you will stay a bad birdy. Go ahead, give me more reasons. Please." I said, smugly but earnestly. I had already given her one moment of lenience, of actual help, but that was it and it was up to her to take it or not. Either she would bend to my strict dominance, or I would get to keep beating on that tasty ass. Either way, I would get my fun out of her...at least until she leaves, whenever that would be. And if she couldn't handle me and did that, well, then I'd just be able to put my ad back up and wait for another, better bitch to walk into my clutches.

No matter what happened, I'd get something I wanted. There was no way this could go that I wouldn't get my fun. The only thing that was in question was if Lexy would get what she wanted: my money...

 

[Frogger]

((I feel like this post is sort of pathetic, but I couldn't think of anything else to include.))

Mother. Fucker. Am I seriously supposed to take this humiliation laying down? Okay, I know I’m technically bent over his couch... but I’d say that applies, either way. I just… I can’t believe I have to put up with this shit. My pride can only take so much of a beating before I… lash out, sort of like a caged or cornered animal. As pathetic as this sounds… I’m having a hell of a time wrapping my brain around everything. Problem is? I can’t tell my body it doesn’t feel good to get spanked… to have somebody pick up the reins and take things into his own hands. It’s kinda hot. I don’t like the degrading bullshit he’s trying to shovel down my throat, not one bit, but I can’t deny the fact I’m kinda… sort of enjoying it. I still want to give him a piece of my mind, though. Ooh, if only, if only. I just can’t risk everything just to blow some steam. As satisfying as it’d be… I can’t. Ugh! I can’t believe Mom and Pops kicked me out without anything to get by on. I grit my teeth and endure every smack on my ass… my head held high, regardless of the bent position he’s put me in.

I just hate the fucking fact he knows. The evidence’s dripping down my thighs. I can’t exactly… hide it, now, can I? Son of a bitch. I hate it. I absolutely despise every second of this… this god-awful situation. I mean, seriously. I’m not in the least bit interested in keeping his over-inflated ego… well, as big as it is already. Trust me, I think it needs to be taken down a notch… or several. Discipline? No. No, no, no, no. This wasn’t discipline. I didn’t do a damn thing wrong. Of course, he doesn’t give any indication I can sit back up. Nope. I’m definitely in for another ear-ful. Ugh. Wait. ‘One last detail’-? Why do I get the sinking sense of dread deep in my gut-? Then again, just the past hour or so has shown me I’m not going to like anything that comes out of his mouth. I take in several super deep breaths, closing my eyes while his finger traces idle patterns on my ass… cause while it feels really good, I don’t plan on admitting that anytime soon. Really? He thinks he did something nice for me? Come on. Please. I’ll never believe that in a thousand years. I roll my eyes as he continues to go on, rambling about he’s done me such a big favor.

Yeah. Right. I’m soo grateful. I get hauled up from over the sofa and turned around to face him… and, of course, I’m assaulted with the sight of a shit-eating grin, spread ear to ear. Excuse me? Is he for real? No way. His Royal Majesty wants-?! Out of pure instinct alone my lip curls into a sneer… but once the realization sank in, I wiped my face clean of any expression whatsoever. I’m not going to give him the satisfaction. I’m more than halfway tempted to spit my words, just to see that smug smile of his evaporate like smoke… only, I doubt it’s gonna have the desired effect. More than likely, I’ll just regret it later. So. I’ll just give him what he wants, that way he can leave my tasty ass alone long enough to unpack my shit and maybe -just maybe- get my shit together. I know he’d love another opportunity to spank me, but I’m not going to give it to him. I just doubt I’ll be able to keep the contempt out of my voice for any great length of time. So. I look him dead in the eye, lift my chin up the tiniest little bit, and… just jump right on in. “I was such a bad birdy, Master,” I drawl. Man, he seriously needs this? Wow. How pathetic. “Thank you for punishing me. I deserved it.” Alright, are we done here? Can I go to my room for some peace and quiet? I’d really like a chance to unwind before he starts in on me.

 

[PsionicCuttlefish]

Much as I could make her pussy excited with the physical treatment, the rest of Lexy's actions told a different story. I could easily see just how rigid the birdy's body kept going during the spanking-and-massaging session, and not just each time I spanked. It wasn't just humiliating and embarrassing to her (which it was supposed to be), she actively hated every second of it. That much was clear, and it was not a good sign. Oh, I was sure I could get her to loosen up whether she wanted it or not, but that could only happen if she gave me enough time...and I was not too certain she would. Not everyone was genuinely cut out for this. That she audibly took several deep breaths while I spoke to her with her still over the couch was just another sign. And although my grin never went away...when I hauled her back up to face me, I could see her eyes were solid with stuck-up defiance. For a moment, I thought she might indeed refuse my demand and I'd at least get to have a little more ass-beating fun, but then I saw the gears turning in her head for a moment...and she raised her chin, very little bit still another defiant tic, and said the words I demanded...in as intentionally a sarcastic and insincere tone as possible.

My smug smile didn't go away, though it did relax from an excited toothy grin to a more casual smirk. After a few seconds, I crossed one arm over my chest and brought my other hand up to my wolf-muzzle chin in an inspecting, thoughtful look (though of course my smirk did not fade). I finally spoke; "So, that was a terrible tone to use with Master. You made it obvious you didn't mean it, on purpose. Still, I will let that slide...this once...but next time? We will be at this again, and again, and again...how-ever many times it takes for you to get it right. Keep that in mind...or don't. I'll enjoy it either way." Everyone had at least a small submissive side in them somewhere, but I had yet to catch a glimpse of hers. While I wasn't putting very high hopes on her...it was still very early, we weren't even a full hour in yet. Still, most would have at least given a clue about theirs by now. Maybe she really would snap and be done with this, today, or in the next few days. It wouldn't really be much of a loss for me. But if I could get a chance to really get inside her...well, that thought was the only thing that made her even worth the effort of trying. At the BDSM clubs I frequented, I hella enjoyed helping to break some new bratty subs from time to time. Yet, few people really knew what brat-breaking truly meant, even the brats themselves at first, and it wasn't crushing every spark of life and will out to leave them hollow and empty...but, Lexy here wasn't a brat. Oh no, she was much, much worse. If I was going to have even the slightest chance of success with her, I'd have to use a different approach to handle her...this, at least, would make her an exciting and challenging experiment.

"Now, returning to the subject of your sexual experience." I said, as I relaxed my arms down again and held my hands behind my back in that casually authoritative way. "So, you've had full sex a few different ways, but not very often...but have given plenty of oral. You know about foot-fetishes, but have little experience with toys." I slowly nodded. "All in all, you have some experience, but it is minimal. That's good, exactly what I had hoped for. While you are clearly very spoiled, you at least have plenty of room for me to teach you a wide variety of sexual experience...how to do it properly. Indeed, I won't be needing to break you out of too many preconceived notions of inferior attitudes towards sex, so much as I'll be dealing with your incredibly spoiled attitude in general." The corner of my smirking mouth quirked upward slightly.

"But before we get into that, there's just a few more details to take care of first. Come, Lexyslut." I said as I moved to pick up her discarded denim shorts off the floor, then picked up the envelope with her medical report and her purse off the side-table. Just her purse and the clothes on her back, it was actually a good thing for her she came to me so light and didn't bother packing anything else. With her belongings held in one of my hands, I reached out my other hand to grab my slave by the back of her neck and maneuvered her in front of myself. Like this, I marched her forward down the hallway of my mansion. Automatic lights turned on as I walked her past doors and more spacious open rooms for all kinds of different purposes, passing picture-frames and statues and other fancy décor. However, we didn't get too far before I steered her into a large fancy home-kitchen, well-lit and with rows of cupboards and two doors for a walk-in fridge and freezer. Taking up the center of the kitchen was a long and wide preparation-island, which was all I needed just for the waist-height space to lay things out. I let go of my birdy pet to stand next to me as I dropped her purse and envelope onto the empty flat surface, took just a moment to fold the shorts up neatly and placed it next to them, then turned to face her. "Take off your blouse and any other clothes except your panties and bra and give them to me, now. Leave your bra and panties on for the moment, I wanna see what you look like in only them first." I folded my toned arms in front of my chest and stared at her expectantly, waiting for her to hold the necessary clothes out for me.