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

Yeah, whatever. I seriously doubt anything could -or would- satisfy this sick psycho. I do everything in my power not to roll my eyes… but I don’t know if I kept my contempt under wraps. I’m just so tired of his shit already. All I want to do is drag my feet to the room I’m gonna have for the next thirty days, collapse onto my bed, and conk out for… I guess... eleven hours straight? Twelve? I don’t know, and I don’t really care. I desperately need to catch up on my beauty sleep. I don't look this sexy with just a handful of hours, thank you very much. Ooh, no. no. Wait. I need to wash off all the… ick off me before I do anything else. I probably stink… and I definitely don’t want that stink on me any longer than it has to be. I can’t think past the possibility of indulging myself in a long, scalding hot shower… I wonder. What time is it? I’d go so far as to steal a glance at my phone, only… I just don’t want to prolong this whole… I don’t even know what to call it, an interview? I can’t say it’s a trial run, since I haven’t been shown to my room yet… but it’s definitely something, right? I just… ugh, I can’t think straight. Hey, I’ve gone through a hell of a lot in the past twenty-four hours… or has it been thirty-six? Don’t know. It’s not like it really matters, anyway. So… yeah, I have plenty of attitude to pass around right now. I keep my eyes level with his, doing everything I can not to linger on the fact I’m kinda/sort of hot and bothered... especially since I don’t want to give him that satisfaction.

Oh… yay. His Royal Highness wants to talk about my sexual experience. Again. Hasn’t he heard enough? What, does he want to hear how often I’d cum? Or if I’ll let a guy squirt on my face? Ugh. At this point, I’m just not interested in listening to him ramble on about my experience… or lack thereof. All he wants to do is ‘break me’, and I hate to tell him this… but that’s not happening anytime soon. Can’t he shut up already? All I’m hearing is blah, blah, blah… and I just want to slap that smug smirk right off. And… of course there’s ‘details’ he wants to go over. Doesn’t it figure? I was fixing to follow him, because… well, why not, but he just had to do things his way. A rough hand on the back of my neck shove my body forward, just about making me stumble over my own two feet. How rude! I fight to swallow down a tirade of insults burning my throat, but I couldn’t do a damn thing about the frustrated growl rumbling there. Oh well. He’ll just have to tolerate it. I’m marched down the hallway, like a prize won, though luckily motion detecting lights came on as we approached. Fancy paintings hang on the walls, showing off people probably a couple generations back in Jo-Jo’s lineage, others magnificent masterpieces commissioned by artists. I hate to admit it, but he has taste. I happen to be a big fan of Jackson Pollock. It’s just a shame he didn’t offer me the opportunity to enjoy it. No, instead… I’m led into what looks like a kitchen. Every light is on. Rows of cabinets line two of the walls. I can see a fridge and a freezer off to the side. Are those walk-in? Nice-! I don’t spend a lot of time in the kitchen, but if I had something like those? I’d definitely make an effort to! Well. If I had a kitchen right now...

Don’t plan on doing that here, though. Hell no. A large island dominates most of the space, obviously meant to be a preparation station for every meal thrown together here. It’s beautiful, and sleek, and… apparently, he intends to ‘take care of the few more details’ there. Jo-Jo lets go of my neck finally, the envelope holding my results earlier and my purse dropped unceremoniously. He takes his sweet time folding my shorts, though. Isn’t that sweet? Not. I really wish he’d stop with the act already, because I’m seriously annoyed at this point. All I want is to BE LEFT ALONE. I shift my weight from one leg to the other, doing everything in my power not to put my hands on my hips… and then I’m having to exert my energy elsewhere. Namely? To keep my jaw up off the floor. I can’t believe he has the balls to order I take everything off-! I suck in a deep breath, though, so I don’t bite his head off… figuratively, literally or verbally.

It’s a good thing I’m not one of those girls with low self-esteem… otherwise, I’d be punching him in the mouth. I’m fine. I’m sexy. I’m not ashamed. I just hate the fact he’s the one laying claim to all of it for the next month. What if I wanted to hook up with somebody hotter? Jo-Jo’s cute, but I’ve seen better. Way. Way better. I turn around to face the bastard, lifting my hands up to start unbuttoning my shirt. Of course I take my sweet time doing it, because come on: he’s probably drooling over every inch of skin I’m exposing. I shrug it off and, not in the least bit worried about how he’ll take it, I toss the fabric his way. “Shoes, too?” I drawl, the words thick with sarcasm -just not dripping with it just yet. I bent down to work on that, feathers swaying forward and hiding my view of the guy. It gave me the perfect cover to roll my eyes, anyway. It doesn’t take long to take care of everything else, so… I hand over my socks to him just two, maybe three minutes later. I don’t bother with the shoes. I doubt he wants to hold onto those. It’s a good thing I didn’t have on anything fancy… well, yes and no. It’s be way satisfying if I’d have been wearing my garters…
 
The birdyslut was not great at hiding her emotions, I could already see in her eyes just how tired of everything she was. It wasn't a good sign...but I wasn't going to cut her any slack. She'd meet my standards and get used to it, or she'd cut and run. I even heard a little growl out of her when I grabbed her neck to march her down the hallways. She very much had an attitude problem...brat-breaking still isn't about completely dulling and deadening the brat, but she was going to have to bend for me sooner or later, unless she gave up. Once we were in the kitchen, my command to undress also seemed to surprise her. My estimation of her went slightly down again, how could she not expect that? Well, no matter, she was at least obeying, after some hesitation. She starts unbuttoning her shirt...and actually does it slowly. I don't know what effect she was going for, but striptease was very fun, so I simply smirked a little more with a calm, steady gaze. Her tossing her shirt at me once it was fully off, though...Well, it wasn't completely unexpected. I flicked out a hand to catch the garment and slowly lowered it, with my gaze remaining ever-calm. With a clearly intentionally sarcastic tone, she asked me about her shoes as well, but I was taking things seriously so I simply nodded. "Yes, shoes as well. Everything except bra and panties." I said, completely straight. I folded her blouse and also set that on the countertop, then received her shoes and her socks, which were also neatly placed on the countertop.

Now, standing before me in just her undies, I openly let my eyes sloooowly roam down and up her body, as I held one hand with a knuckle pressed to my chin, as if evaluating goods...which, I basically was. I then slowly walked around her, just as I had before, and examined her head to toe from her rear as well, before slowly stepping back in front of her, taking my time. Her body was indeed quite shapely, and her crimson feathers had a nice sheen to them. Best of all, her curves were generous. "Good. Very nice assets." I said approvingly yet objectifyingly, then nodded and commanded "Now, don't move, Lexy-bitch."

I turned away from her and placed the undergarments neatly on the counter, spaced out with everything else. I then picked the shorts back up and felt around the pockets to make sure they were empty, taking out anything if they weren't to examine and also place on the counter before I folded the shorts and put them back on the counter too. Then I went and opened up her purse, and began pulling items out of it, one by one. Every item, I gave a glance at, then placed on the countertop, everything spread out and in the open. There wasn't much, and nothing particularly notable. Just her wallet--which I did not mess with--some women hygiene products, some other random odds and ends...all just normal junk. There was a small novel though, nothing too special, and also a pair of leather gloves which I briefly raised an eyebrow at but set them aside like everything else. Soon, I had her purse fully emptied out, and I felt around the inside, making sure to check for any remaining hidden pockets or such. Very much on purpose, I was violating any secrets she might have. Still, there was nothing of interest. Lastly, of course, was her smartphone. I picked that up and glanced at it, then set it on back on the counter as well. "Your phone time will be limited." I said as I turned to her, folding my arms in front of my chest again, authoritatively. "You get thirty minutes of phone time a day, and that's only when I don't already have you doing anything else." Still, I spoke in my calm, completely-serious voice "Call whoever you want, tell 'em whatever you like, I don't care, but always remember..." I held up a hand with my index finger raised. "You walked through my door. Don't forget it."

I then smirked a little wider. "Speaking of which...Now, take off your bra and panties and give them to me as well." I said, still in a calm and casual voice. Even though I was telling her to get completely naked after her initial reaction just to strip to her undies, I was guessing she still wasn't quite ready to throw in the towel just yet...
 
“Lovely,” I just about spat, venom right there on the tip of my tongue. If I'm not careful, it'd probably drip off those couple of syllables and splatter all over the floor. "I'm so happy I'm up to your standards then. Master." I've kept my voice even, polite, but there's not an ounce of respect. His Royal Highness hasn't earned it, and I seriously doubt he ever will. Hell, I want nothing more than to waltz on out of here with my head held high… but I can't. Not yet. I'd love to do that and provide him with a little bit of insight on what's going through my mind… only, I'm just not willing to waste any precious oxygen on words that'll just fall on deaf ears. Nah. Ain't worth it. I might as well just keep every one of my thoughts locked away inside my head. I had to watch as he paws and picks through the things I've got stashed away in my purse, like he's entitled to anything and everything I have in my possession… leaving it all out in the open, too. Does Jo-Jo have no common decency? A lady has a right to some privacy, and to go through my fucking purse is just rude. Signing my name on the dotted line of that contract doesn't mean he can violate my privacy, my secrets, anytime he wants to. I lift my chin up a tiny bit higher when he turns his attention back to me. Only thirty minutes on my phone a day? No big deal. It's not like I want to call up Mum and Dad to share the intimate details of my shame. I don't have friends, either… at least, none that wouldn't drop me in a heartbeat if word got out about how far I've fallen.

Yes, yes. I know. I walked through your door. How can I possibly forget? I've condemned my next month to servicing the devil… in any way he deems fit. Yeah, I doubt I'm going to forget that anytime soon. I kept my head held high as his smirk grew before my very eyes… and I can't say I was surprised at his next order. I've already noticed he's doing everything he can to drill in the fact I'm nothing but a… a doll, something he bought to satisfy any and every petty need of his. It's just inconvenient that I have thoughts and feelings of my own. I don't let my expression change as I reach back around to unhook my bra.

Delicate lace dropped away, leaving me bare to his hungry eyes. I don’t prolong the act like I did when I was stripping before, since I want to get this done and over with… so I drop the pile of emerald green into his hand without so much as hesitating. Any other girl in my position would’ve been blushing, stuttering, twisting to hide her body from him in either embarrassment or self-consciousness… or both… but not me. I’ve got nothing to be ashamed of. I’m rather proud of the body I’ve come to inherit. I’ve plenty of curves, I have breasts just big enough to satisfy my ego and the men I decide to spend my time with… and my ass fills out jeans pretty damn nicely, if I do say so myself. What’s the point of hiding? I like my body just the way it is, and I know I’m fucking sexy. I place my panties in Jo-Jo’s hand, too, just to place my hands on my hips two seconds later. I wish I could tell him half of what’s going through my mind right now… only, I know for a damn fact it’s just not worth my time. I want this display of authority and power to come to an end, so I can go and do whatever I feel like. It’s getting old, having to endure and entertain his overinflated ego. I know I’m just adding fuel to the fire… but he’s paying me good money to do just that, so who am I to turn my beak up at that? I'll have a roof over my head. Food to satisfy my belly when I'm hungry. I won't have to sell myself to anybody and everybody, risking the chance of a STD… just to this one guy. I can put up with his crap for one month… right? All I've got to do is keep my mouth shut, my thoughts to myself… oh, and don't go off on him. I have to rein in my temper, too… Ugh, this is going to be a lot harder than I thought. Fucking figures.

My head held high, I don't give him the satisfaction of offering any sort of expression whatsoever. In fact, I don't even spare him a thought. What’s the point? I’ll just end up pissed off, and it's not like I have many options when it comes to venting… so, why bother? I'd rather think of other things besides Jo-Jo's smug face. So. I'm just biding my time.
 
My new birdybitch gave me another mouthful of sarcasm after I evaluated her in her undies, which I continued to let slide for now. Soon, that would not fly with me anymore, but there were more important things to focus on at the moment. Her posture and the way she carried herself while I went through her purse also all screamed annoyance...or, more specifically, impatience. She clearly wanted to just 'move on' from this...but of course, she had not the slightest clue of what we would be moving on to. When I finished with her purse and stated the restrictions to her phone access, she just barely managed to avoid rolling her eyes at me again. And once I finally demanded her underclothes...rather than a slower tease, she simply took them off with as neutral as an expression as she was capable of and handed hem to me silently, no words or flair, and ended with her hands on her hips. That was actually a nice showing-off pose--not usually the correct one for a slave, but nice nonetheless--and I set her bra and panties on the countertop with all her other laid-out belongings, then turned back to look at her again, grinning much more widely now that I could examine her fully exposed and naked body. "Mmmmm. Yessss..." I rumbled out, then slowly licked my tongue around my lips, intentionally playing up the lecherous sex-brained male appearance as I briefly walked around her once more. "Very nice indeed...your body is built for sex, you're going to be a wonderful whore. Almost perfect already...not quite, but very close indeed, closer than I was expecting." I commented in a pleased voice as I stepped back in front of her and then turned back to the counter.

I spread my arms and braced both hands on the edge of the counter and leaned over it, examining every item of hers that I had laid out on it for several moments, then stood back up straight and, in a neat and orderly fashion, began to put everything back into her purse. "It's actually a good thing you came to me light." I said, while packing her things away. "You won't be needing any of this." I said with a tone of finality, as I got out plastic bags from a drawer to put her clothes in, individually. "You can have it all back when you leave here. But while here, I will tell you what you need and when you need it, and I will provide it--as long as you deserve it, of course." In a few moments, I had everything--including her birth certificate and medical report--packed back into her purse, all except for her phone. That, I simply set on top of the purse after closing it. "You eat what I tell you when I tell you, you sleep where I tell you when I tell you, and you wear what I give you when I give it to you. You are mine, and that means you are my responsibility to take care of. You are not responsible for anything but making me happy. Very simple and easy, really." I said confidently to her, even though catering to my whims was likely to be anything but simple or easy. Still, if I told it to her enough times, she'd eventually believe it...if she stayed long enough. I still wasn't sure that she would. "Now, we're almost done with preparing you for your place as my pet, just two more things to take care of..."

I walked away from her to one of the cupboards of the kitchen, wordlessly expecting her to continue staying where she was. I pulled out a bottle of pills, then retrieved a glass and filled it with water from a dispenser, then brought bottle and glass over to her. I let her see the label on the bottle, indicating it was over-the-counter birth control pills, before I unscrewed the cap and shook out a single pill to hold out to her, along with the glass of water. "You'll be taking one of these every day. We can't have anything irreversible happening to your body, after all..." I said, and waited for her to down the pill before proceeding.
 
Okay. Gross. Did he really have to slap on that lecherous grin? It's creeping me out. I know it's just an act... but still. It's too much. I roll my eyes when Jo-Jo walked behind me, that way I don't have to listen to another one of his boring lectures. I don't listen to any of his words, either, since I'm pretty sure he's just trying to butter me up at this point. I know I'm sexy. Jo-Jo doesn't have to tell me twice. I've heard so many variations of the same thing, I've lost count. Men are just… so fucking simple, with very little going on upstairs… and plenty below the belt. I let my thoughts drift somewhere else while he starts examining everything I've brought, since his opinion of what I carry in my pockets or purse doesn't matter. Of course I tune back in once he speaks… not that he was saying anything interesting. I brush off his words, since I don't really hear something worth listening to. Yeah, yeah. I get it already, you don't need to rub it in. You're the boss. Yippee. I wish he'd let me have my book, though. It would be nice to have something else to do besides bending over backwards to satisfy his every whim… or listen to him go on some more about what she needs. Oh well. Just because I can't have my book doesn't mean I can't snag one of his to read. I can probably find other ways to entertain myself, too… I mean, my world doesn't -and won't- revolve around him twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. I’m not going to let him dominate every aspect of my life. I’m sure he’d just love to try, but the fact of the matter is: I’m only here for the money. I don’t give a damn about anything else except getting back to the cozy life Mum and Dad kicked me out of… and this just so happens to be the best way to do it.

I watch as he goes over to one of the cupboards, though I didn’t expect him to whip out a bottle of pills. After hearing his little speech, I was halfway thinking he’ll go straight to business… but I guess not? I meet his eyes once I’ve read the label, not in the least bit fazed at this latest discovery. I get it. Jo-Jo wants to get a girl pregnant… but only if she’s signed on for the next year, not for the next month. It makes sense. I don’t say a damn word, instead gulping the pill down before taking a small sip of water. I just don’t have anything to say. I’m not going to waste my breath on words he won’t listen to, so… why bother? I finish off the water and set down the glass on his shiny, shiny counter, waiting for whatever order he’s going to throw my way next.
 
As I walked around the birdybitch and finished up with her belongings, I could tell she was starting to really tune me out. She was so transparent in her feelings, had no poker-face whatsoever. Not that this was entirely a bad thing, it would only make it easier for me to get under her skin and inside her head. At the very least, when I did finally get the birth-control pills for her, she did look me in the eyes and just took it and the glass of water without any word or hesitation. That, at least, was good. She was starting to get the idea that when I said something, it had to happen. But there were other signs, little tells. The way her tail flicked, the way her fingers drummed against her leg, just other little unconscious twitches...she was antsy, restless, and eager to...I would guess, "get this over with". My face stayed straight with the same casual, relaxed smirk that I used as my resting face. If she was waiting for this to be "over with", she'd be waiting a while...exactly thirty days, in fact.

"All right Lexy, now there is only one last detail remaining to take care of." I said, still keeping my casual resting-smirk as I turned to the kitchen island and opened a drawer. I reached inside to pull out an object and bring it into her view... It was a black leather collar with an attached leash. It had a dangling tag on it too, a heart-shaped piece of shiny pink metal with the words 'SLUT BITCH' stamped into it in white. "Hold still, Lexy. Time to show you've got a proper owner now and aren't just some stray." With each end of the undone collar in my hand, I reached my hands around the sides of the bitch's neck, making her feel the presence of my strong hands as I slowly buckled the collar around her neck snugly but not tightly, making her feel the symbol of my ownership. The little metal tag hung down and rested right on the center of her collarbone, just above the swell of her tits. Still, she was a bit of a different-temperament whore than I was expecting, and that meant handling her a little differently than I had otherwise originally planned. I slid my hand down along the leash to its end and held it up in front of me, then one more time...not quite 'broke' character but did 'relax' it somewhat.

"So, with that out of the way, you are now officially my slave-pet. You are going to be at my side at--well, almost all times, servicing my every whim." I said, then paused for a second while casually staring at her, no longer using my resting-smirk. "...Not that, despite everything so far, this is some 'point of no return' or anything. I did state in my ad that there would be no 'safewords' for our activities, but...in a way, there actually is. This gets to be too much for you, you can't take it anymore, anything I tell you to do that you absolutely will not?" I shrugged mildly. "Then you can just leave. Quit. Give up. Say the words at any time, head out the door, and it all ends." I let that statement hang in the air for a moment. I still wasn't betting very highly on this bitch, but...with how spoiled and how--specifically--unaware of her own egocentrism as she was (I knew I was plenty egocentric myself, so I could measure it and display exactly how much I want at any given time), if she was going to stay the full 30-day period, there would be only one probable motivation to drive her; her own pride. If she walked out of here without my money, it would only be because she actively threw in the towel herself. I still wasn't banking on it actually working, I was still fully prepared to see the back of her before the 30 days was up, but the best chance she had was to tie her success and her own refusal to accept defeat together.

Then my smirk came back up, and the facade was back in place. "But now...it is, finally, time for your training to actually get started." My mouth spread into a wider, toothy grin. "If you think you're at the end of the tunnel? This was all just the formalities. We literally haven't even begun." I let the implications of that statement stand for her own mind to work out; that as 'rough' or 'annoying' or whatever she thought I had been up until now? It wasn't even me being serious. Not yet. She hadn't seen anything yet.
 
One last detail? Oh, I'm sure. In fact, I’m not the least bit fucking surprised he has to interject with just ‘one last little damn detail’. Jo-Jo has to have the last word, otherwise his ego takes a beating. It’s just that fragile. I roll my eyes while he’s busy digging through a drawer, but otherwise I don’t let a single sign of my annoyance show on my face. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction,since I’m pretty sure most of this is just to piss me off. It’s still really, really tempting to flash him my middle finger, though. I had just started to admire his pretty espresso machine, since that’s probably going to be one of the very few perks of working here, when he brought out… no fucking way. Is he serious? He wants me to parade around with that ugly thing on? Jo-Jo obviously has no taste in jewelry. First of all, metallic pink? Soo last year. It clashes horribly with my feathers, too. Doesn’t he have it in… oh, I don’t know, orange? Yellow? I’d even be fine strutting in blue. I like wearing azure or navy. Pink? Hell no.

I know I probably should be more offended with the ‘SLUT BITCH’ stamped in stark white on a cliche, heart-shaped piece of shiny pink metal (that’s just as ugly as the collar itself), but honestly? I sort of saw it coming. Everything he’s done so far is for the purpose of drilling in the fact he’s the big, bad boss. I’m not buying it, but whatever. I just find it sad that his precious pride needs this much attention. Oh well. None of my business, none of my concern. It does make me wonder: is this how he scores? If so, he has to throw money -and his weight- around just to have a girl under him. Pitiful. My eyes were looking at the wall behind him while his hands worked on putting the damn thing on, since I’m not some stray he dragged off the street, I’m not a rescue. I’m just using him, just like how he’s using me. I’m not going to acknowledge his delusions, and I sure as hell am never gonna accept any as the reality of the situation. Nope. Never. Not now, and not in a million years. I shift my weight from one foot to the other. Are we done here? I can’t think of anything else he’d want to discuss or do, unless he needs pussy right here and now. I wouldn’t be surprised. I finally brought my eyes back to him when he lifted the leash, halfway expecting him to give it one good, hard yank. It’d further prove his ‘dominance’ over me, wouldn't it?

Joy. I’m going to be at his side almost all the time? It’s a girl’s dream come true! Please, sign me up for more!

Not.

Yeah, yeah. I know. You don’t expect me to last the thirty days. Don’t worry. I’ll prove you wrong. I’m going to show everybody just how wrong they are about me.

Lovely. It’s only just begun.

Bring it on, mother fucker.

I don’t say a damn word, just waiting for him to move things along.
 
I noticed, after buckling the collar around her neck, that the metallic-pink tag didn't go quite well with the crimson of her feathers. No matter, this was only the 'generic' collar I had prepared after all, for whatever girl walked through my door. If this birdie-slut lasted at least a week or two and I felt good about her lasting the whole month, then I would get her a more...personalized one. For now the lightly clashing aesthetic was of no consequence, because I didn't care. However, much more importantly, I did notice how...unimpressed a look she had in her eyes from the collar. It was a complicated expression to nail down, being a mix of boredom, resignation, irritation, and impatience all wrapped up into one. But this spoiled bitch had no poker face at all, which honestly was a good thing for me, as being able to read her like an open book would aid in twisting her to my desires. She had at least a small submissive side buried somewhere inside her, everyone did, even if it was a bratty one and even if it was buried very deep. The only question was if she'd stay the full month, long enough for me to dig it out of her. And in fact, as impatient as she looked at my speech, when I got to the part that we were only just beginning, that she did have a way out if she couldn't handle it...she gave me a look of stubbornness in her eyes, defiantly silent, up for a challenge.

After I finished speaking, I allowed my face to openly slide into an even more smug grin, for no apparent reason other than playing into my haughty Master persona...because she actually was playing perfectly into my hands. By the stubbornness in her eyes, she was committing to this.

...Needed to make sure to work on her speech though, or lack thereof. I hadn't heard "Yes, Master" out of her in a bit too long now.

After a just a moment of holding her leash up in my hand, I decided I'd had enough waiting. It was time to get to work, I wanted those nice tits of hers. "Right then. Come, slut pet, I want to relax for a little bit first." I said before I turned and gave a casual tug of her leash to make her follow. My statement might have been a little contradictory to most people, as intended; I just told her we'd begin her training, but now I was going to relax...but I didn't say she was going to get to relax. Another lesson she'd learn, when Master says something, he means it exactly. She would eventually learn to pay careful attention to my every word to watch out for little tricks I might play on her, but with increased attentiveness would come the side-effect of being more responsive and obedient.

"Heel, Lexy. Keep pace alongside me. Only a bad bitch goes to the end of her leash by going forward or falling behind." I said commandingly as I led her out of the kitchen by her leash, with her remaining completely naked as she walked through my decorated halls. Open and in the air, almost a little 'public', that was one thing I was definitely going to get her used to, but on the other hand, she didn't seem to have that much sexual shame in the first place. More good things for me, of course. As I walked down the large, long main hallway of my mansion, I occasionally varied my pace, speeding up or slowing down my walking speed at random while gauging how quickly she was able to adapt and keep up. Everything happened at my whim at my choosing, for no reason at all because I didn't need a reason other than to exercise my control. Of course, I had a feeling that's exactly what she'd expect of me by this point...and there was no reason for me not to play into her assumptions, to let her think that she could predict me, or that she could just dismiss me as doing juvenile power-plays. Let her have that false sense of security.

It would make the times I broke from her expectations all the more impactful.

After passing many other rooms I returned to where I started with my new slave in tow: my electronic entertainment room, with the giant wall-TV and couches. I stopped in the open doorway with her, for no apparent reason, before I turned my head to look at her. With one hand holding up her leash, I suddenly reached over and grabbed her nearest tit, gathering up a handful to squeeze and fondle fairly energetically. I wanted to see her reaction, see how much she balked at the notion of being groped by me at any moment, and by far the very tamest thing I was going to do to her. I let a lecherous grin spread to my face before I started talking again. "Yessss...these are so delightful, so soft and warm and juicy...You're lucky you've got even bigger tits than I was expecting, bitch. They put me in a good mood already." I said, before I caught her cold-air-hardened nipple between my thumb and forefinger, giving it a few light twists and squeezes before I pinched and pulled outward, then finally let go. All the while, I carefully gauged her reactions, conscious and unconscious, to know what kind of effect this molesting teasing had on her.
 
"Yes, Master." I roll my eyes behind his back, just to let out a sigh through my beak two seconds later. I'm just so done with his attitude already. How much longer do I have to grovel at his feet? I know I'll have to endure it for the rest thirty days, but he doesn't seriously expect me to start clocking in my hours right away, does he? I just arrived on his damn doorstep a couple hours ago! I scoff at his order to 'heel', but I don't say a word. I don't see a point, when he's not gonna hear anything but what he wants to hear. Sorry to disappoint, Jo-Jo, I just don't plan on wasting my valuable oxygen unless I absolutely have to. I keep alongside him, adjusting my pace when he decides to slow down or speed up -which happened often enough where I'm ninety-nine point nine percent sure he's just doing it to exercise his control over the situation. I can't really say I'm surprised. I walk past several doors, a few cracked open and others closed to curb curiosity, but we don't stop at any. Just when I'm starting to wonder if we're walking for our health… we ended up right back where we started. Jo-Jo doesn't plop his happy ass down on the couch, though, or snatch up the remote to turn on porn, or do anything along those lines. Nope. He stopped in the doorway, blocking my entry -or escape-, just looking at me for a good minute or two. What's he up to now-?

Of course I didn't have to wait long to get an answer to the question. I didn't even have to ask. His hand whips out, fast as lightning, latching to my left breast like a leech. Jo-Jo doesn't even bother hiding his lecherous sneer. His groping was energetic and enthusiastic, almost as if it's been months since he's last fondled a nice pair of breasts.

Honestly? I wouldn't be surprised at all. Yeah, Jo-Jo's handsome… but strike up a conversation, and you'd be walking away after just a couple words.

I seriously want to roll my eyes and let out one of those extremely exasperated sighs… but unfortunately, I'm not even allowed to do that much. All I can do is stand here. It's humiliating, to say the least. Don't get me wrong, I usually like my nipples played with and sucked on… but… not right now. He's just doing this to get a reaction out of me, to satisfy his sick and twisted fantasies… while I'm here to get paid. I'm probably indifferent to his attention because I didn't get a full eight hours last night, too… but oh well. I hate to say it, and yet… as of this moment, I'm a prostitute he's paying thousands of dollars to. I know for a fact I am not going to get anything out of this whole experience except cash, so why bother? A light twist on one nipple had my body jerking away, my back almost hitting the doorway.
 
To my contentment, I did at least get a proper "Yes, Master" from my new bitch as we headed out, although she scoffed at her instruction. She still had quite an attitude, but of course it was barely even a few hours since she first arrived, let alone a whole day. It would take time to properly adjust her attitude. For now, I was going to focus on getting her acquainted with the basics...which were only going to be 'basic' compared to how intensely I'd be ramping things up later. Still, she kept pace with me as we walked, even when I deliberately sped up and slowed down my stride. Good, she was at least beginning to grasp obedience to simple instructions. Even when we arrived at the door and I started openly groping one of her tits, she quite obviously looked as though she were just trying to make herself tolerate it. Not great that she felt more exasperated than flustered, but better than outright recoiling...which she did do when I gave her nipple a little twist and tug.

As my hand fell to my side, one of my eyebrows raised up as I glanced at her red-and-white feathered-and-fuzzed body up and down. That was not a reaction she should be having...but it did at least mean that her nipples were quite sensitive. Which was a good thing, as it gave me a weak point to work on. Still, while the reaction itself wasn't good, seeing it was, since that gave me more information on what I needed to work on with her. "...Hm." I hum-grunted quietly and very vaguely, not giving her any indication of what I was thinking, and simply turned to step into the room while still holding her leash to make her follow me.

I walked towards the central couch with the birdie bitch behind me, then turned to sit in it myself. I held my non-leash-holding arm out to my side and over the backrest of the couch while spreading my legs wide, and leaving my leash-holding hand resting on my thigh. I casually and lightly slouched back into the cushions, putting on the show of just being haughty and arrogant just from my posture and neutral expression, then I pointed at the floor right in front of myself with my leash-holding hand. "Lexy, kneel right here." I commanded, then waited for her to obey. Once she was kneeling directly between my spread knees, herself only a mere two feet away from my bulging crotch, I reached both of my hands back to go out to my sides, elbows hanging just slightly off the edge of the couch's backrest while my hands clutched it, one still holding my toy's leash. Our respective positions had me just being so casually, overbearingly dominant, or at the very least, looking completely and utterly self-absorbed and full of myself. I wanted her to think that I was just into unnecessary power-plays. Such things were clearly wearing on her nerves, so I wanted her to deal with it...and believe that I wasn't capable of being more subtle. "Now, whore. Unbutton and unzip my pants. Then reach through my pants and boxers, and pull my cock and testicles out." I then watched to see how well she managed that task. My boxers were plain black underneath and nothing particularly special, but would be bulging even more once the more-rigid front of my pants was out of the way.

And once she pulled me out, well...she would find that I myself was exceptionally well-endowed. A shiny black wolfcock that was impressively long, but even more impressively thick, and with an even larger knot at the base to boot! My furry sack was even more absurd, with my nuts being almost the size of softballs. How would she react to this discovery? My gaze remained fixated on her the whole time, taking in every detail...
 
Is it bad that I'm just soo over this already? I've had a rough couple of days, and to top it all off, I've had to throw out my pride just to make sure I have a roof over my head. Dignity? Ha! I don't have any left, apparently. I don't have a lot of patience, either. Just how long is he planning on keeping up this pathetic performance? My feathers ruffled, I shake off the leftovers of… my reaction and my thoughts, in favor of moving on with my so-called "training". I seriously doubt he's gonna cut me a break or cut this out anytime soon. Isn't it obvious just how much stroking his ego needs? Jo-Jo can't find a girl desperate to get into his pants… at least, not without the influence -and persuasion- of money. I know I've signed my name along the dotted line… but only because I had no other choice. I sure as hell wasn't going to spend another night out on the street. Please. I'd have done anything else but condemn myself to a month of this shit. Oh well. What's done is done. I just have to tolerate his attitude and his ego for thirty days… unless I want him to dig a little deeper, but… I don't think he can pay me enough to have his spawn.

Ugh. Just the idea of having… something of his… in my belly kinda makes me wish I'd eaten, that way I'd get rid of this nausea. I follow Jo-Jo over to the couch dominating half the space, though I don't even contemplate sitting down, too, since I damn well know better. As much as I'd love to plop down and make myself at home… I've got to put in my hours first. I had to fight against the impulse to scoff at his order, though. Fuck! His ego needs to deflate a little, if he expects there to room within a fifteen foot radius of where he's slouching. I made sure to take my sweet ass time… even with the possibility of punishment hanging over my head. I don't care. It'd be worth whatever he dishes out.

And… of course, once I had settled between his spread knees, in all my naked glory… he tells me to unbutton and unzip his pants, just to whip out his balls and cock. I'm not surprised. Come on. It's not like I have any other reason to be kneeling on the floor, right? I had to do everything in my power not to roll my eyes at the audacity of it all, because… seriously, he didn’t even bother tacking on a 'please'. Yikes. I atta say something to his parents about the piss poor job they'd done raising this boy. He has… no manners whatsoever. No, wait. Who am I to talk? I'm lucky to remember "please" and "thank you" half the fucking time. I work the button free first, then I pull down the zipper… but, in all honesty, I wasn't really paying much attention to what I was doing. My mind was a million -no, ten million- light-years away. Why do I have to focus? It's not like I'm actually interested in getting into his pants. I do sort of notice the fact he's wearing black boxers (only because the color matches his soul). Oh well… It's a damn good thing he isn't a mind reader! Otherwise? I'd have been kicked out the moment I walked through that door.

Yep. Jo-Jo's already half-hard. It's probably because this is the first time it'll be receiving attention in… who knows how long. My guess? Months. I'm betting he's jacked off in the shower plenty of times, but he hasn't had a girl looking after his needs in a long, long while. Poor baby. Note the sarcasm. I dig a little to pull out his balls, which… I'm a little surprised he has a pair. Jo-Jo's bad attitude implied he didn't have any. As the saying goes, "big trucks compensate for small dicks", except… I applied the same logic here. Huh. Okay, I guess that's good to know for future reference. His nuts were furry, but instead of black, they're covered in a creamy... sort of tan fur… and… the size of softballs? Is that normal? I think he needs to have a doctor check him out. Maybe he has cancer? Why do I care? I pull out his cock next, barely giving the thing a glance. Why bother? I let it go two seconds later, since Jo-Jo didn't order me to hold onto it, just "pull it all out", and rocked back on my heels. I meet his gaze -which I didn't expect to be fixated on me- and lift my chin up the tiniest bit. I don't say a word. I'm just waiting for the next challenge.
 
I certainly didn't escape my notice that Lexy was intentionally being slow about getting on her knees, nor the way she kept her face forcibly frozen in a neutral expression. Not entirely unexpected that she still was still trying to be resistant to everything, I barely have had any time to really start working on her yet. As she reached her hands forward to obey my command, I could give her at least one thing; she could actually put effort into holding back her impulsive reactions if she had to. Her problem was that she was still too obvious about it. She didn't roll her eyes or scoff, but from how carefully I was watching her, the slow way she approached, and quick way she retreated once my 'package' was out, and the way her face stayed unnaturally still, it was painfully obvious just what she was bottling up. She didn't want to do this, and she wasn't getting flustered...yet. The only question was what it would take to start ruffling her and putting her off-balance. Though I had claimed that she was only here for my pleasure and not her own, the truth was that at some point, I needed to make her horny, whether she liked it or not. But I had plenty of surefire ways to do that...and I had barely gotten started.

Although, once she had gotten my shaft and nuts out, she rocked back and just started up at me with those sort of 'defiant expectant' eyes, waiting for me to give her another order. Again, good that she was understanding her 'position'...but I made note that this as another lesson I was going to have to teach her at some point, of how a sub was supposed to take some initiative. Not yet though, much too early for that lesson. Although there was another lesson I could teach her...she was clearly expecting me to give her the next order, and was waiting for that. As hard as she tried to control herself, the spoiled brat really was an open book. The whole point was that I needed her to be as off-balance as possible. I was intentionally playing into her expectations some of the time, but this was a clear point where she thought she had some tiny idea of what the pace was going to be. I understood how this small, simple thing was something she was relying on, perhaps even unconsciously, to feel like she had some amount of 'control', even if it was just making herself behave as she predicted was necessary.

As dom and sub, we had to get things off to the right foot here. I had to disabuse her of that notion.

With my half-flaccid cock and my balls just hanging out of the undone front of my pants between my spread-open thighs, I lifted one of my hands to my face and tilted my head onto my knuckles, a casual relaxing, examining pose. I stared at her, but not in a 'staring contest' way, I occasionally blinked casually as I wanted, and let my eyes slowly wander up and down her kneeling body. I said nothing, remained utterly silent. Just looking at her body, and sometimes in her eyes. Seconds ticked by. In my own head, I was doing small little mental exercises to both track and pass the time, but she was left waiting and anticipating me to give the next order. My junk remained completely unattended. A full minute passed. Even if she wasn't a spoiled brat, there was no way this treatment wouldn't unnerve her eventually, however long it took. Another minute of complete silence passed. I wasn't putting any effort into staying 'still as a statue' either, my body shifted occasionally, but only in small ways that made it clear I wasn't actually getting up or about to say something. I was relaxed and completely unbothered, even though I had 'clearly' been about to tell her to do something sexual with me and that 'had' to be the only thing I wanted, but she was left waiting. Sooner or later, she would either start shuffling in obvious discomfort, or maybe even try to say something. With nothing for her to focus on, nothing for her to do but wait, it was inevitable. So...once she either began fidgeting in place in agitation and had been doing so for a minute, or if she opened her mouth to say something...I finally shifted to perk up and cut her off, immediately taking over.

"All right, Lexy." I said aloud, shattering the silence with my clear voice. I didn't speak in a sharp tone, but I made sure to time it and make it abrupt enough to give her a tiny startle. All the more to keep her off-balance. "To begin with, time to start seeing what you can do. Get those sweet tits of your around my dick and start moving them, so I can see how much you need to learn about giving me a titjob. See if you can make me feel good at all. And don't forget to say 'yes Master' this time, when I tell you to do something. You forgot it a second ago when you pulled out my cock. I'll let that slide once, but if you forget again, I'll have to correct you." I gave her the command calmly and smoothly, speaking clearly and directly, and expected immediate obedience. I made no acknowledgement at all of the intentionally awkward silence that had hung between us, I acted like it hadn't happened at all and changed the subject entirely. All of it was just more facets of a psychological mind-game intended to disorient her. She would have to be at least a little frazzled as she started...
 
Is this psychological warfare? It sort of feels like I’ve walked onto a battlefield with nothing but my pride to use as a shield and my wit to use as a weapon… but of course I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I take in one deep, deep breath… slowly letting it out as every second slips away. I'm pretty sure this is just another method meant to unnerve me, but what he doesn't know is that I'm used to long, awkward silences. Actually, no. I lied. I’m used to… sitting at the dinner table, playing with my food, while Mother and Father gush over my little sister’s latest accomplishment. I can’t say it was silent, but it sure as hell was awkward to listen to. I know I ain’t perfect, by any means, but it always felt like I’ll never be good enough to live up to their expectations. Pissed me off. Can’t they appreciate who I am? Isn’t that what parents do? Hell, I’ve gotta wonder why I’m trying to get back into their good graces… I let out another breath, though I’d much rather roll my eyes since I have no other choice but to play his game. How long has it been now? A minute? Two? How long does he plan to keep this up? Come on. I don’t want to kneel on the floor all damn day… and I’m sure he’s got better things to do than to fuck around.

HELL-O~!! Anybody home upstairs? You were obviously in the middle of ordering pleasure, served on a silver platter. Did someone turn off the lights? Fucking hell. Do I need to get up and knock? I was just starting to fidget -cause who can sit still while waiting orders?- when the bastard finally decided to break the silence. I’ll admit it: I didn’t expect it, so I jumped a little. Anybody else in my position would’ve done the same thing. Jo-Jo’s voice, calm and clear and condescending, managed to piss me off, regardless. I was halfway tempted to go off on him, to give him a piece of my mind… only thing is, I’d just be wasting my breath. It’s not like he cares one bit about my feelings, or about my opinions. So instead, I’m gonna keep my beak shut. I move in a little closer, lifting my breasts to get ready for the job set out before me. I’ve never really cared to do this sort of thing, just simply because I never got any enjoyment out of it, but whatever. ‘Master’ Jo-Jo ordered it, and so it shall be. “Yes, Master,” I reply, making sure to insert every last drop of sarcasm I had into the two words. Hey, he didn’t specify I had to pay him respect, now, did he?

Actually, now that I think about it… I wouldn’t put it past him to scold me and to go on about how I need to use “a tone of deference” or whatever.

Ooh yeah, I’m really looking forward to that. NOT. I just want this first test to be done and over with, so I don’t have to put on this act anymore. I slip his cock between my tits, not in the least bit surprised to find he’s already half-hard. Okay, maybe I was just a teeny tiny bit… but any rational man should be, once he’s got an eyeful of my boobs. It just means Jo-Jo is the same as anybody else. I close my eyes, that way I don’t have to look at his face when hormones kick into hyper-drive, and start moving my body up and down really slowly. Contrary to what other girls think, this doesn’t just involve squeezing your tits around a cock. It requires skill and technique -both of which I happen to possess. I use my abdominal muscles. I use my hands to apply pressure, but never the same amount. I change it up, so the guy never knows what to expect. I lean in the tiniest bit, to make it where his cock is completely engulfed in soft flesh. Sooner or later, Jo-Jo is gonna complete lose it, and I’ll make him moan… it’s just a matter of when.
 
Just as I had expected, I caught her nicely off-guard with my intentional inactivity and then abrupt actions. Got a very nice jump out of her, even jiggled those fine tits of hers a bit. She looks so adorably annoyed by that, and all too clearly has to put effort into mentally putting it behind her and focusing on the task I had just given her. Precisely what I wanted. The more distractions she had, the more she had to divide the focus of her mind, the easier it would be to get under her skin. However, there was the particularly special thing...when she acknowledged the task with the required "Yes, master"...she, very deliberately, filled the two words with as much contempt as she could. Ohhhh ho ho. She thought she could be sassy with me, huh? This was going to be fun.

But for now, I let her sarcasm go unacknowledged by me as she leaned in, settled her breasts around my cock, and started moving. And...well now! "Hhmmmmmm~!" My head was back into the tilted-to-the-side, resting-on-my-knuckles relaxed position as a contented smile spread across my lips and I let out an unabashedly pleased hum. She wasn't just squeezing her tits in with her hands, or rubbing her tits up and down with her hands...she was doing it all, and varying the speed, angle, and pressure she did at everything, and even was using her abs to help give her some extra leverage. "That's niiiiiiice~!" I moan-sighed out with happiness. "You've done this before, birdie-slut! You're actually good at this! Mmmm!" I was completely relaxed and open with the pleasure I was feeling, but neither was I in the slightest overcome by it. "Oh, and eyes open, bitch. Pay attention to what you are doing." I added casually. I wasn't going to let her try to distance herself from what she was doing. I wondered if she was going to remember to also say "Yes, Master" this time...
 
When the days are cold… and the cards all fold…

An old song started playing in the back of my mind at some point or another, and honestly, it proved to be the perfect distraction. It was sort of fitting, too. I’m doing this because of greed, because the world revolves around green, and out of pride, because… it’s one of the few things I can claim rightfully belongs to me. I’m riding on the coattails of my parents’ success. I haven’t done anything to distinguish myself, so I cling onto what I can… and now, it’s all been ripped away. Man, what a reality check. I let out a sigh, but of course… I couldn’t stay in my own mental space for very long since a certain somebody was demanding my attention. Doesn’t it figure. I crack open an eye, not in the least bit surprised he’s enjoying every second… but what gave him the impression I wasn’t paying attention? Huh? What else do I have to do here? Pretend like I’m panting for him while I’m at it?

Man, what a pain. I somehow manage to open my eyes without showing off my contempt, though I felt it was probably for the best that I keep my mouth shut. I have an idea of what might come flying out… and it won’t improve things any. Yeah, no. I’d rather not give this guy a sneak peak into what I’m thinking. Do I really have to answer his smart-ass comments-? It’s not like he asked a question or anything… Nah, he was just spoutin’ off a bunch of bullshit to rile me up. Nothing worth responding to. I drop my eyes, just focusing on my bouncing breasts and my hands on either side, on how I use my abs to give myself a little extra leverage. I don’t give a damn about Jo-Jo here… but I pride myself on a job well done, regardless. How much longer am I gonna have to do this, though? Another five, ten minutes? Give or take? Hopefully. I feel like I’ve already had a super long day, and it’s just barely past… what? Two o’clock? Three? I can’t even keep track of what time it is! Damn. I think that says a lot right there.
 
I noted how Lexy failed to say "Yes, Master" in response to my simple command, but, what was more interesting was how she looked like she wanted to say something, but was holding back. Heh. With what I was already planning from how sassy-toned she had given me a "Yes, Master" a couple minutes ago, her having things she wanted to say was going to be perfect for what I had in mind. As she continued to give me a surprisingly but welcomely proficient titjob, I just stayed relaxed with my legs spread wide, moaning happily and freely...but in a calm and contented way that only showed that I was still in control of myself, while I also continued casually watching her face and tits, regardless of where her eyes were focused.

After another minute or two of her giving me her titjob after she opened her eyes, I was feeling nicely warmed-up, and my cock was quite stiffly erect, though I wasn't even close to 'finishing'. Still...I then suddenly nodded in satisfaction. "All right, that's good. Halt now." I commanded, and didn't care whether or not she responded to me this time. I then nudged her shoulder slightly to make sure she was relaxed back in her kneeling position, resting on her rear on her feet and upright. "Now, there is one other thing that needs to be handled. Stay here, birdie-slut." I said as I then stood up from the couch, without bothering to do anything for my still-aroused junk hanging out the front of my pants. With her kneeling so close to the couch while I stood up, it might have been slightly awkward to try and shuffle around her...so I instead just stepped straight forward, with her between my legs, and let my dangling heavy ballsack drag riiight over the top of her head as I did so. Without paying attention to her reaction, I strode across the room to the 'trunk of goodies' I had prepared, opened it, rummaged through it until I found what I was looking for, and pulled one object out of it. But if Lexy was watching me, I didn't let her see what it was.

I turned around and started walking back, making sure to keep the object hidden in my hand and behind my arm as I returned. "So. You got a big mouth, don'cha Lexy-bitch? With that tone you've been using?" I said in a conversational voice as I approached. I didn't bother making sure my balls brushed over her head again this time, I just deftly stepped over and pivoted in place to drop my ass back down into the couch, exactly where I had been sitting before, again my legs spread and her kneeling in front of me between them. My expression was neutral as I looked at her in silence for a moment...then I smirked. "I like big mouths. Big mouths are good. They have so much...room in them." I let my cryptic, and almost certainly very unexpected, statement hang in the air for just a second for her to ponder it. "And if you've got enough room in your mouth to fill it up with that much sass when you address me..." Still with the object I had retrieved hidden behind one arm, I then leaned forward in my couch seat and reached out with my empty hand to cup it around the back of her neck and head, as my face got in much closer to hers, only a few inches away as I firmly stared directly into her eyes. "...Then you've got enough room in your mouth for other things." I then brought my other arm forward and finally allowed the object into view.

It was a dildo, a rubbery flesh-pink phallus with an excessively veiny-textured surface on the shaft and a mushroom-tip. But more than that, its base was also a spherical ball, with two straps on it, exactly like a ball-gag would have...which made this one a dildo-gag. She had told me that her sexual experience included "lots of blowjobs", so I hadn't selected a more 'beginner-sized' one, this one was moderately thick and long, and would push a bit into the back of her throat, although nowhere near as deep as my dick would, this phallus was only about half my size. I watched her eyes very intently when they inevitably flicked to the side to look at the object I was holding up...and the instant I saw the spark of comprehension dawn in her red irises, I spoke. "Open." I commanded, not in a harsh tone, but in a firm one. My hand cupping the back of her head was not squeezing, but it too was holding her in an unyielding way. There was no way she could fail to understand what I was telling her to open, and I was making it clear I was expecting no hemming or hawing from her on this.
 
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