Duplex

"Yes, yes, yes it does," Penny words spewed out of her mouth uncontrolled. Orgasm was already approaching.

"I wish I had fucked that little mouth of yours more back in the day," Brian said. "I wish I had known how much of a skank I had. That I could've fucked you however I wanted and you would've just sat there like a whore begging for me."

"I would have. I am such a whore," Penny nodded.

"Say it," Brian commanded.

"I'm a whore. I'm such a worthless little slut, I just wanted fucked all the time," Penny rode it into orgasm and her words became moans and shrieks. Finally, she collapsed, sinking low into her kneeling position with her head hung, tired and satisfied.

"That's what you wanted?" Brian asked.

"Yes, I needed it," Penny said. She realized that they had an agreement and quickly she stood. She grabbed her coat and wrapped it back around her.

"Thank you so much," Penny said, giving Brian a kiss on the cheek. "Remember, I owe you one. Next time you just need someone to get you off, I'll be here."

Then Penny was walking down the hall. Brian realized that his pants were still around his ankles and quickly closed the door.

"What the fuck was that?" Penny asked the ceiling as she lay in bed. She had never felt so horny before. And she had certainly never gotten off to somebody insulting her before. She had always thought that sex was about mutual respect and admiration. She had never felt the need for domination. What did that mean? Should she be worried?

Penny was struggling to sleep. Probably what bothered her the most was that she knew she should be outraged and indignant about everything that had just happened, but she couldn't find it in herself. She was just satisfied. There was even some sense of happiness over what she had done. Specifically, her mind kept returning to the moment Brian had cum in her mouth and the sense of accomplishment that she had felt for it.

Penny decided that it was best not to focus on it. She was an adult and she had made a decision. She didn't need to analyze it to death. She had gotten off and that was the most important thing.

But that was wrong, wasn't it? Penny didn't know why, but she knew that her getting off was not the most important thing. She had gotten Brian off. That was more important. She didn't know why, but maybe somebody had told her that male pleasure was more important? She couldn't remember who told her.

Eventually, she drifted off to sleep.

As Penny drifted slowly rose out of sleep, she realized that she was smelling the same glorious scent she had been smelling for the whole weekend. She thought that someone might be sitting on the edge of her bed, speaking soft truths to her. She was nodding vigorously, devouring the wisdom. She was also vaguely aware that someone's hand was on her breast, squeezing and pinching. She distinctly heard the words, "These belong to me now." And she heard herself respond, "Yes sir."

Then the man was gone and she went back to sleep.

She woke up to her alarm and knew immediately that she wasn't going to be going to work that day. She just wasn't feeling it. Work was so unimportant to her right now, but she couldn't quite put a finger on why. She thought about just not showing up, but something in the back of her mind finally convinced her to send an email to her boss claiming to be sick.

Once she had gotten up, she went immediately to her bathroom and prettied up. She had to make sure that her hair was done up nice, her eyeshadow was perfect, and her lips were polished with her favorite lipstick.

She knew she was going to be just laying about the house all day, so she didn't have to wear anything too professionally. She found a box of old clothes that she had worn when she was a rebellious college girl. She selected an especially short mini skirt and thigh-high leggings. She looked for a top that would compliment it, but eventually decided on just wearing a black, lacey bra. Just because Penny was home didn't mean she couldn't look fuckable.

It occurred to Penny that she should do something nice for her landlord. He had rented her out the place and she had barely said thank you, after all. Penny found a nice pair of heels to go out in and then picked up some breakfast. She found that she was pretty sure of his tastes, but wasn't entirely sure how she knew. Maybe she could just tell by looking at him. Some people were gifted like that, weren't they? Penny decided it didn't matter how she knew, it was just important that she get him what he wanted.

Penny took the breakfast back to his apartment and let herself in the front door (how did she know where the key was? It probably didn't matter).

The man was sitting on his couch watching a trashy comedy movie. Penny knew the type. She used to abhor them, but who was she to tell a man what he could or couldn't watch in his own home?

"Good morning, sir," Penny said. She brought the food to him and bent down extra low, so her hefty cleave hung enticingly in front of him. He leered fully and appreciatively and Penny felt a rush of excitement inside her chest. Why did it feel so good to be on display for him?

"Let me eat," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Clean up the place some and then come on back to me."

"Yes sir," Penny said, quickly moving to obey. She started in his kitchen—she did the dishes, wiped the counters, swept the floor. Then she moved to the bathrooms. They especially needed attention and it was good that Penny was there to offer it. She avoided using the vacuum, so that she wouldn't disturb his viewing, but she did move some of the clutter around.

"Hey bitch," the man called from his spot on the couch.

Penny immediately knew she was wet. She immediately felt the desperation of horniness in her pussy. It was like a switch had been turned on inside her, turning her from housemaid to desperate whore. She practically ran to him.

"Yes sir?" she gushed, standing before him.

He didn't even say anything. He just casually pointed down to his groin, where Penny could see a "pitched tent". Her mouth watered and all other thoughts in her mind evaporated. There was not a thought of work—in fact there hadn't been all day. The thought of food disappeared. She forgot about cleaning her master's house. She forgot even that she was dressed as a slut and loved it when he leered at her. The only single thought in her mind was that he was horny and it was her job to give him pleasure.

She knelt and with loving, soft touches she unbuttoned his jeans. His dick emerged and for just a moment she was in awe of it. She felt as if her whole body, from her firm ass to her massive tits to her pouting lips, was all in service of this one thing. This was her purpose. So like a hero charging to battle, she devoured his delicious cock.

She felt the tip against the back of her throat and held there for a moment, sucking tenderly. Then she began to pick up a rhythm with her lips, swirling with her tongue as she went. Her hands caressed his balls, stroking them tenderly. Penny went in intervals, picking up speed and the slowing down. She teased him slightly, but with every interval she picked up more speed.

Somewhere, she was aware that he had put something on the television other than his trashy comedy. She heard a voice—a very familiar one—saying, "I want to be a pornstar slut. I want to be fucked and used and fucked again. I am so horny and I need to be... I need to be disgraced."

It was her own voice, declaring herself to be a useless slut. She could actually feel her pussy's wetness dripping slowly down her thighs. She was never more turned on in her entirely life.

"Look what this makes me do," the webcam version of her said, "Look how it makes me feel. Oh god I'm such a little whore."

"You are a little whore, aren't you?" the man said, stroking a lose strand of hair over her ear. Her mouth was occupied by his glorious dick, so she couldn't verbally agree, and her neck was focused on giving him the perfect rhythm, so she couldn't nod "yes". Instead, she settled for just a "hmm-hmmmmm" noise from her throat, which quickly turned into a gag.

"And what a nice set of tits you have," the man said, reaching down and grabbing one of them in his hand. He squeezed. It wasn't gentle and it even hurt, but it was the way he squeezed that demonstrated ownership. Penny knew that those tits belonged to him. Her whole body belonged to him. It wasn't just that she was a whore, she was his whore. She was his slut, his bitch, his fucktoy at a moment's notice. Was that what her whole life had been building towards? Penny thought it might and further glee exploded in her mind.

"Get me off with those massive tits of yours," the man commanded.

With a suction noise, she pulled her lips off his dick and immediately unhooked her bra. Her tits—they were her master's tits and she was so glad he liked them—hung free and on display. She wrapped them around her master's dick and picked the rhythm back up. She looked up at him with worshipful eyes and found with glee that he was looking down at her. His eyes were greedy and consumed every image of her. Her master reached over and picked up his phone. He aimed the camera at Penny and began to record.

In the background, Penny could hear her own voice degrading herself. She let the words wash over her, like a beautiful sonnet.

"I'm such a little bitch. I was just want to be fucked all day. Please pound my fucking pussy into oblivion."

"Oh god, yes please," Penny echoed in the present moment.

"Fuck my throat, my ass, whatever you want. Punish me like the bitch that I am."

"Punish me, I'm such a little bitch," Penny echoed herself.

The master was grinning, but his face was beginning to stretch in pleasure. She realized with jubilation that he was going to come.

"Master. Please cum all over my fucking tits," Penny begged. Her tits rocked up and down on his stiff dick, edging him further along. "Please cover me with you hot, hot load. I want it so bad. I want it to mark me as your property. As your private little whore. Oh please mark me with your hot cum."

Finally, his cum broke lose. A thick wad shot up and hit Penny in the chin. The rest spewed over her chest. The man groaned in pleasure and Penny continued to rock on his dick, milking every last drop from it. When he finally finished, Penny bent down and ran a loving tongue over the head of his penis, collecting the bit still on the tip. She sucked just a little and swallowed. Then she used her tongue to clean the rest of his cock. When he was all taken care of, she stood, covered in his cum.

"Sir, would you like anything else, or would you like me to get back to cleaning?"

The man waved dismissively again, and then turned back on his trashy comedy. Penny hurried back to the bathroom. It wasn't going to clean itself.

The rest of the day passed similarly. She did his laundry, made his bed, made him lunch and dinner, and brought the whole apartment to perfect order. Every hour or two, she would also be summoned to her master. He had an especially appreciation for blowjobs, but one on occasion he had fucked her doggystyle while they both watched some hardcore bondage porn on the TV.

While her eyes fixed on the pornstar being devastated in the video, she had begged for permission from her kind master to cum. He ignored her pleas until he got close to his own orgasm, then he gave permission just as he was cumming.

It was the single greatest orgasm Penny had ever had. But she as she was panting breathless on her elbows and knees, her master reminded her that chores needed done. Feeling so stupid and inconsiderate, Penny hurried back to fold the laundry.

That evening, her master summoned her back to his couch.

"You did good today," he said simply. Penny's heart leaped inside her. Her master was pleased.

"You should leave our shared door unlocked, in case I need you in the night."

"Yes sir," Penny nodded immediately.

"Also..." her master reached down and picked up a strange device from beside him. It looked almost like a humidifier. "You should sleep with this turned on next to you. I've done a lot of work on you, but I want you to start pulling your weight on it. Every night, you should turn this on before you go to bed. It will reinforce the commands that I've already given you."

Penny didn't really understand—she was pretty sure she was stupid slut, according to what her master had called her during one particular blowjob—but she agreed eagerly.

"Also," her master continued, "tomorrow you'll get to work on the other half of my house. The one with your shit all over it. Get rid of anything that isn't sexy, bring everything valuable to me, and toss the rest." He pondered for a moment and then added, "Except your furniture. I think I'll have two living rooms and you do need a slave chamber's bed or something."

"Yes sir," Penny agreed eager. She did the math in her head. She was pretty sure her master could make a few thousand dollars off the things that she had so thoughtlessly brought into his home.

"Alright, that's it," her master said, waiving his hand to dismiss her.

When Penny got to bed, she discovered that the humidifier machine created a wonderful scent. It put her into a state of total relaxation. She slept wonderfully that night.

She woke up early, thinking that her master would like to be woken up by her pretty little lips on his dick. She was right.

Her master suggested that maybe she shouldn't even be worrying about her old responsibilities anymore. Maybe she should dedicate all of her time to serving him, cleaning up after him, making him food, and meeting any desire that popped into his head. Penny agreed thoroughly, but she was unable to express this to him—he was explaining it while she was gagging on his delicious dick. Her master didn't seem to concern himself were her opinion anyways, and that was just as well. Penny knew that she was stupid whore and she thought it was best that her master did all her thinking for her.

After swallowing her master's load gratefully, she called her boss and very briefly explained that she was not going to be coming back in. She threw in some insults at him to get him to agree more rapidly, then quickly hung up the phone and hurried back to cleaning. Her master had informed her that he was going to be having his friends over for poker that night and he expected the place spotless when they arrived. He also informed her that she was expected to provide the entertainment.

Penny was beginning to realize that she was underprepared for constant sexual service. It wasn't her body, of course—that was a tool basically built in service for men. If her pussy got raw, just stick up the ass or down the throat. But Penny had very few sexy underwear items. In her old life, dressing up for a man was something to do on occasion and only if she wanted to now. Now, she couldn't imagine her life without lacey bras, sexy negligees, or skimpy panties—to say nothing at all of the collars, chains and whips she now thirsted for. She had one outfit of straight slut-wear, and that was just not enough.

She knelt returned to her master and knelt before him, waiting to be recognized.

"What do you want, bitch?" he asked. Her pussy quivered with pleasure at the word.

"Master, I would like your permission to go to the store to get a sluttier wardrobe to please you," she said in a subdued voice.

He cocked an eyebrow and glanced over at her. She was wearing only panties and his eyes leered over her tits. Then he smiled and said, "Sure, but you better not be gone long. I might want to fuck you soon."

"Yes master," Penny grinned. She waited for his dismissive wave before getting dressed in some minimal street clothes (so much clothing felt weird on her skin and she didn't like it) and raced out to a seedy sex store she remembered seeing.

Penny could not believe the excitement as she browsed the isles. The underwear was easy—she basically bought them out of lace and leather. She had some fun adding nighties and negligees to her basket, as well. But where her heart really started beating hard was in the bondage toys section. She grabbed multiple handcuffs, ballgags, whips, harnesses, and even a swing. She hadn't played with any of this yet, but she knew in her heart that her master might want this some day and she wanted to be prepared (had someone told her that at some point? She couldn't remember...).

As she moved towards the register, one specific item caught her eye. It was a dog collar, with small spikes pointed out from it. Written in large, pink letters was: "SLUT". It was like a name tag and she had to have it. She secretly wished that there were other ones too: "Whore", "Bitch", "Fucktoy", "Cum Dumpster"... but the last was probably too many letters to fit onto a collar. Maybe she could get it tattooed as a trampstamp above her ass—an arrowed pointed down with "cum dumpster" written on it. She would have to see if that would please her master.

The bill was staggering, but Penny quickly emptied her savings account into her checking account so she could buy the items. She had plenty of balance left over. She would have to remember that and start poking around online for other items that her master might want.

She proudly wore the collar out.

Her master liked the new wardrobe. He had her try on almost every item and then pose for pictures. He sent the pictures to his friends, telling them to bring the beer, because he was bringing the bitch. He also fucked her in a few of his particular favorite outfits. Every time he did, as his glorious dick was pounding into her pussy or her asshole, she made a mental note that this was a special outfit.

Through the whole time, Penny was incredibly horny. Her pussy was dripping and wherever he put his dick felt like heaven. She begged to come, but her master told her not to. He said that he wanted her nice and wet still for his friends that night. Penny apologized for her silly mix-up. She hadn't realized how thoughtless she was being, thinking of her own pleasure when that might reduce the pleasure of a man. She was a stupid whore and she was very sorry.

As the friends trickled in, they all eyed Penny lustfully. Her master had chosen one of her outfits: a sexy, laced negligee that still showed her tits through it. She wore nothing else, so that all three of her holes were available for pleasure. Several of them came over and felt her up. They didn't even bother to look her in the face as they squeezed her tits, smacked her ass, and took several pictures of her. She was like a statue in the room—to be admired and to stand still and take it. The whole thing, combined with her deprivation of pleasure, made her desperately horny.

Finally, the men got bored with feeling her up and decided to start playing poker. She was instructed to service them from below and she eagerly complied. As they played games, she knelt below the table and moved from dick to dick. She built them up slowly, not finishing anyone off on their first go. If her master, she would not have toyed with them like that. She would have done everything expected and to the letter. But she wanted to make her master happy, which probably meant winning poker. A hard, distracting dick would take their minds off the cards.

The first man busted out of poker. In frustration, he turned to Penny's master and said, "Alright. Can I just fuck her now?"

"Yeah, do what you want," Penny's master said, barely glancing up from his cards. The man reached down and grabbed Penny by the scruff of her neck. He brought her over to the couch and bent her over it. He fucked her pussy from behind, grabbing onto a wad of her hair and pulling hard as he did so. It hurt, but somehow that made it better. As he got close to coming, he pulled out and ordered, "Open wide."