One of my Master’s new favorite games to play he calls “Gullibility.” It’s probably one of his most simple ideas
really – he puts me into trance and then just tells me that everything that he
asks me to do I will find completely normal and not at all strange. He includes that he can ask questions about
how I feel about these things and I will also find that normal. It will all be reasonable and normal, no
matter what. It’s the playing equivalent
of a cop inside my head constantly saying “nothing to see here” while standing by
3 murdered bodies.
This evening he decided he wanted to play, so he put me in ‘gullible’
mode and asked me, so very nonchalantly, to take off all my clothes from the
waist down (which I did without wonder) and then to start rubbing my cunt as he
and I talked (which I also did.) When he
has me in this mode he takes great delight in asking things like “and this
doesn’t seem at all odd?” specifically because he then gets to hear me answer “no,
not at all. Why would it?” while
simultaneously fucking myself.
“And if someone were to come to the door to, say, deliver a
package – what would you do then?” he asked
“I’d go to and answer the door.” I replied.
“Like this? Naked
from the waist down and fucking your cunt with your hand?”
“Of course.” And then,
as an after thought “but I’d have to shift and start fucking myself with my
left hand since I really couldn’t sign with my left.” Always practical, even when fucking myself in
front of a total stranger.
Although I, by design, didn’t find it strange at all to be
fucking myself while we chatted I did find it more challenging to keep up my
end of the conversation sometimes, as it was still a very hot sensation and
therefore distracting. When I apologized
to him for not keeping up my end of the conversation, as I was a little
distracted by the nice feelings coming from my cunt, he solved the problem by
telling me that for the next while I should just sit quietly and not say
anything. Of course I was not to stop
diddling myself – oh no. So there I sat,
my cunt getting sloppy enough by this point that he could probably hear the slurping
sound of my finger going in and out, in and out. I think it was about here where I also began
to breath a bit heavier.
After we’d sat a few more minutes my Master asked how I was
doing, and I mentioned that I was doing quite well. Though I didn’t find it odd to be fucking
myself while chatting I did find it a very good, good feeling on my
privates. We talked a bit about how I’d
just keep doing this all night long if he wanted (and I would have), even in
front of strangers should the situation arise, and from this he asked a new
question. “Sounds like something that a
dirty slut would do, doesn’t it?”
Though I’d not have described myself as that up to that
moment once I heard his extremely reasonable voice say it I knew that it had to
be true: I was a dirty slut. Once we’d established that fact he asked for
other concepts that came to mind when thinking about a dirty slut. “Oh, you know,” I started – when in this
state I somehow just know that it amuses him to hear me say these kinds of
things in a completely average, almost bored or matter-of-fact voice – “a woman
who will fuck anybody or anything, and is completely up for anything as long as
it is sex.” As I thought about it a bit
more, though, I realized that was just the definition of a slut. I still needed to account for the ‘dirty’
part. “I suppose since I’m a dirty slut
I will do any disgusting, humiliating thing as well, as long as it means I get
to fuck.” That gained me a little
chuckle from my Master, as well as a bit of praise for a solid definition. But he wasn’t even close to done yet.
“So with that idea in mind tell me what sorts of scenarios
that brings to mind.” I didn’t
understand the question. “What kind of
solutions that could provide?” he tried again.
I locked onto his use of the word solution and wondered: ‘what problem were
we solving?’ When I voiced this
confusion he provided me a solution to solve.
“You’ve been wanting to spend money on a new laptop, and yet money is
tight. Does the knowledge now that you’re
just a dirty slut provide a solution to that?” he asked, his voice the very
definition of breezy. But then I knew
what he meant and I ran with it.
“Oh sure,” I started, “I see where you’re headed with
this. Sure, it would be a really good
way to make extra cash to have me fuck guys for money.” It felt as though I were the first person to
ever have this idea. “I’m not sure how
to go about it, but I’m sure it would be lucrative as hell.”
“And you have no issues with that?” he asked.
“No, that seems like it would be a good solution, like you
said. You wouldn’t mind if I fucked
other guys?” As always my first and last
concerns were for him.
“Well you’d be doing it on my command, wouldn’t you?” I agreed, of course. “Well then no, I wouldn’t mind in that case.”
I sat quietly, a constant squelching noise now coming from
my wet cunt as I continued to plow in and out.
After a minute I thought to ask him “Wait, so are you telling me that I
should? Did you just command me to do
that?” I wanted to be sure I hadn’t
missed a pivotal moment, as I am always eager to follow his commands.
“Do you think it’s a good idea to do so?”
“Well, it will solve the money problem we’ve been having… Yeah, I guess I do.”
“Good then. I’ll go
ahead and put the ad in the paper then.
So, what do you think it should say?”
I thought about this a little as my hand continued to chug away in and
out of my soggy cunt. Being the writer
of the couple it seemed like I should be able to craft this well.
“Hmmm. Something like
‘Dirty, disgusting slut available for rent.
Willing to do anything...’ well, I was going to name a few kinds of sex,
but I guess that just highlights the ‘slut’ part. But we need to highlight the dirty,
disgusting part, so we should talk about those kinds of things… ‘Willing to do
any dirty, disgusting act including…” There
I faltered, my humility rearing it’s head and fighting with the version of me
that he was crafting now. I hemmed and
hawed a little here until my Master gave me a nudge, asking what I was
thinking. “I was considering what
extreme things I could do, being a disgusting, dirty slut. Like, I was going to say ‘will do all
disgusting, dirty things including anal sex, golden showers and…’ I’m not sure
what to include there.” Master was not
going to give me any suggestions – his enjoyment came from seeing what kind of
holes I would dig for myself. I did not
disappoint. “Oh, I guess another good
one would be gang bangs. ‘Will do all
disgusting, dirty things including anal, golden showers and gang bangs. Contact her Master to schedule.’ And then we’d
use one of your many email addresses I suppose?”
“Sounds good, sounds good.
And you’re good with fucking several men at once?” If I’d been able to truly pay attention I
would have heard that smile in his voice and known he was luring me down a
hole. But he’d removed me of that
attention, and so down the hole I went.
“Well it seems like that would be something that we’d be
able to charge more money for, so that would be a very good idea. And since I am a dirty slut it’s certainly
something I’d do, so…”
Our conversation went on and on like this. We determined that my worthless body could
fetch only a pitiful $50 an hour, and that I’d devote four hours a night to
this new side-job, with all nighters being scheduled on Fridays and
Saturdays. Obviously I’d have to give up
all the things that normally take up evening hours, and that I’d go ahead and
tell my friends and family the true reason that I would no longer be available –
that I was going to be fucking strangers for money from now on, since I was a
dirty slut. “After all,” Master
reasoned, “you have told me how they always accept you for who you are, and
that’s exactly what you are.” And of
course this also sounded perfectly reasonable.
I would collect the money, but as we talked I reasoned that,
although I’d like the money for purchases I’ve had to put off, since I was his
worthless slave and he my amazing Master really I didn’t deserve any of the
money. That it was much more reasonable
for he to get all the money that I might earn.
“Tell you what,” he offered, showing his generosity. “You’ll get the money and send it to me. But if you want any of that money for
something you can just beg me for it.
Sound right?” And, of course, it
did.
As our conversation continued on and on my Master would
periodically ask me to recap what we’d decided so far because it pleased him to
hear me tell him, in the most reasonable and measured of voices, how we planned
to have me fuck strangers night after night for money that I would send to him
and beg for. How I’d specialize in
fucking groups, such as bachelor parties, making sure that each of the clients
got several chances to nail me in any hole that they wanted so they’d know they
got their money’s worth. And how I’d do
all of this happily to please and serve him because that was my entire purpose
in life, and was the thing I most wanted to do.
And all the while I lay on the floor, his voice pouring into
my ears from the headphones as my hand never stopped thrusting in and out of my
pussy. We’d talked for so long and my
work had never slowed, so by now my poor pussy was sloppy with wet, my hand
thick with my enjoyment. A puddle had
formed under my ass as I leaked and leaked, but though I knew I was enjoying
the feel of my constant fucking I never thought to question it. My Master had asked me to do it, and that
meant that it made perfect sense to do so.
Our conversation moved on to include my sexy best friend,
and the idea that when next Master was in town we should arrange for him to
finally put her under his will as well.
Once under his control he could turn her into a slut too, which would
double his profits as she also began to sell her body for him. “Did you make me a slut, Master, or was I
already this way?”
“Oh I made you into a dirty slut. Before that you were a normal person. You don’t mind that I did that, do you?” he
asked me so casually.
“Of course not.” I replied.
“I was just curious.” And then,
as an afterthought, “And thank you for turning me into this, Master.”
I don’t remember all of the details of our conversation
anymore. I remember that by the end we
had a plan that would be bringing thousands of dollars to my Master a week
while giving me the opportunity to show what a completely disgusting slut he’d
made me, utterly willing to do any low, humiliating, dirty thing any person
might ask for. Once we had the plan well
set, including my hearing him typing away on his end, ostensibly placing the ad
in the paper as we spoke, Master had me lie back.
“Now I want you to fuck yourself hard and deep, as hard and
deep as you can. You’re going to do that
until I tell you to cum. Do you
understand?” I did, and I did as he
commanded. I have no idea how long I lay
there, plowing my two fingers deep into my cunt over and over, a sloppy squelch
coming loudly from each thrust. I lie
there, imagining myself surrounded by strange men, each of them cramming their
cocks into whichever of my holes they wanted, using me for their enjoyment so
that I could obey my Master. I fucked
and fucked until finally I heard him give me that amazing permission. As I finally came I felt wave after wave of
tremendous release, floating down to the floor after all of that and lying
there panting and thanking him over and over.
And then, and only then, did he let me have my full mind
back. I was gullible no more. At least until the next time he wants to play with me.
