School Slut Pt. 11

All characters depicted, are eighteen or above.

Welcome to part 11 of my story. This may be the last chapter, but who knows?

I had cleared my way, for a life of debauchery. I had left school, and for now, still lived with my Daddy. He had been so understanding, and generous, I went out of my way to please him in every way I could. Abigail also helped out. She made return visits to us both. She always wore her school uniform, and on those special nights, so did I.

Abigail and I would perform in front of him. He would then be invited to join in.

There were no limits. The sordidness turned us on.

She was a good friend to us both, and such a dirty girl.

Miss Davis had laid down the ground rules of my employment.

On completion of a job, I was allowed to sleep in the "Whore Room."

My first job was a piece of cake. I'd been told to arrive at her house at seven o'clock.

Daddy had yet to buy me a car, so I took a taxi.

It didn't matter what I wore. All the outfits I needed were in the wardrobes, and drawers. I still dressed nicely, I wanted her to want me.

She would pour me a drink, and we would talk about the evening's client.

Her tone was business like, as she discussed either his or her,or indeed, their needs, wants, and desires. She would leave it to me to present myself in whatever way I thought fit, and appropriate for their sexual fantasies.

It was exciting and creative. I was made for this.

That night's client was a male in his forties. Miss Davis actually had a questionnaire for the customers. This was designed to enhance the experience to the full, and give maximum satisfaction. It gave us great insight into their fetishes and sexual cravings.

It was also one of the reasons they parted with substantial amounts of money.

This one was custom made for me. I couldn't believe my luck.

This particular man, craved his daughter.

She too, was eighteen. I'm pretty sure, Miss Davis knew exactly what she was doing.

His daughter had rejected his advances, but tormented him sexually. She would dress seductively and flirt, but never yielded.

The man was going out of his mind. It would be my job to redress this problem, at least for one hour of his troubled life.

I knew what to do.

He was due to be in my room at eight o'clock.

I would be ready.

I went upstairs and changed into my "whore's outfit", yes, that one.

I put on the heels and a black skirt, roughed my hair, and layered on the make up. I had taken a bottle of wine up with me, and one glass.

More than satisfied with the way I looked, I waited.

The knock came on the door, at precisely eight o'clock.

"Is that you Daddy?"

"Yes," came the stranger's voice.

"Just a minute. I'm just putting my clean panties on."

I waited for a minute.

"You can come in now, Daddy."

The man walked in, he looked me up and down.

"What do you want Daddy? I'm going out soon."

"I just wanted to spend a little time with you Darling."

"Oh fucking Hell Daddy. Can't it wait?"

I had put on strapless, open toed heels.

"Actually, since you're here, you can finish painting my toe nails."

I was sat up on the bed. I poured myself a glass of wine, then passed him the red nail varnish.

"Sit on the bed Daddy. Make sure you do a good job."

I pulled one leg up, and stretched the other towards him. He had a perfect view of the tops of my red pull ups and panties. It was quite sweet, that although he was paying for me, his mind was on his daughter.

He started to paint my nails.

"Now, what the fuck do you want, Daddy?"

"I just want to be closer to you darling."

I opened my legs slightly, and pointed to my pussy.

"I think you want to be closer to this, Daddy."

I then closed them a little.

"You find me attractive don't you Daddy? Lots of men do. I've fucked a lot of men, but you're not allowed to. I'll be fucking men tonight. Are you a little jealous?

I just love to entertain Daddy."

He shifted uncomfortably.

"You'd better not make a mess of my nails. Focus, for fuck sake!"

I started to file my finger nails, I watched him lovingly paint my toes.

We said nothing for a while.

"We can't fuck Daddy, but would you like to see my pussy?"

"I would love to Darling."

I gently pulled my panties to one side. He gazed at the wetness.

"I've got to admit I'm getting a little excited. Perhaps you'd like to touch me there?"

He slid his fingers into my pussy

"That's nice Daddy. I love to be fingered, and licked." I took a big swig of wine.

"I'm getting a little tipsy I think."

I slid off the bed and stood over him. I put my hands in my panties, and smeared some juice on his lips. He licked them.

"Ooh, you've got a nice tongue Daddy. Let's not waste it."

He put his hands under my skirt, and pulled down my panties. I lifted my skirt and he began kissing my wet area.

"Is it good kissing your daughter's pussy? Do you like the smell? I know you sniff my knickers Daddy. I leave them out for you deliberately."

It actually felt pretty good. He was kissing and fingering at the same time.

"I can't fuck you Daddy, but I think it's okay to suck your cock. Can I do that Daddy?"

He unzipped his fly. His erect cock stood up. I gave him one of my famous blow jobs. He came in my mouth, very quickly. I swallowed it, cleaned his cock, and took a swig of wine. I actually kissed him. In this whorehouse, it's allowed. He thanked me and left. A decent man, with a thing about his daughter.

I loved the idea of the questionnaire. I would often become aroused when reading it. It ensured safety, and limited sexual activity to within our boundaries. Ultimately, it was my decision as to whether I would conform. Absolutely no violence was permitted in the"Whore Room." The punishment room was available for those who wanted to surrender to the cruelty of Miss Davis, but no whips were ever used.

I particularly enjoyed being the reward for anyone surviving one of her legendary beatings. I would stand by the table, and count the blows or slaps.

After the punishment, I stepped forward to be fucked, licked, or whatever, while Miss Davis watched. She liked that. So did I. We would always have dirty sex after such a session.

Since my employment, she had softened her treatment of me. I was no longer "Slut." She had stopped slapping my face, or enforcing arbitrary cruel rules.

I still loved being used by her, I would take her hand, and lead her to the punishment room. She could do what she liked to me. Afterwards, she would often take me to the bathroom. Recently, she had allowed me to piss on her. Of course, she would also empty herself all over me.

I loved it.

The questionnaire allowed me to prepare for the entertainment.

One had read. "I want to fuck a police woman, anally."

The man had come to my room. There I was, in full uniform.

"I can either arrest you, or you can stick that, " I pointed to his cock, "in here."

I pointed to my arse, and handed him a small bottle of olive oil.

He was very rough, but I loved it. He had oiled his fingers. He pushed one at first, into me, then a second, whilst I held up my skirt.

"If you don't hurry up, I'll call my colleagues!"

He slid his cock in me and rammed me.

"Fucking whore! Fucking pig!"

It was great. I had been frigging myself and we both came together.

Some nights I felt guilty taking the money!

It didn't take me long to realise that Miss Davis' name was not "Sally", but, "Helena."

She was a Goddess, it suited her so well.

She allowed me to call her that, and she called me by my real name, until we were in the punishment room.

That was where I became "Slut", again.

I still enjoyed humiliation and spankings.

I had many, many, encounters. Plenty of surprises too.

On one occasion I was having beautiful sex, with a gorgeous young woman. She had requested that I be pretty. I had put on a floral dress and clean white panties.

She seemed so innocent. We had delicious sex for nearly an hour.

She kissed me, then said, "I've got another session now......with "Roberta."

I was truly shocked, but totally turned on. I wasn't allowed to watch, but masturbated as I imagined, what would be going on, in the punishment room.

Helena would often give me chores to do.

One evening she said she was having friends round for dinner, and that I was invited.

I put on a black dress and made myself as pretty as possible.

Helena was a brilliant cook. Her guests arrived. They were husband and wife. Maureen and John. They were an attractive and charming couple.

We drank wine and chatted. Helena served a delicious casserole. More wine was drunk. We laughed and talked, mainly about the lighter things in life.

It got to about ten thirty. Maureen touched her husband's wrist.

"Are you ready Darling?"

I thought they were leaving.

John stood up, and so did I.

Maureen glared at me.

"Sit down, whore!"

I sat down.

"Now suck my husband's dick!"

John pulled his cock out. I was a bit stunned, but did as I was told.

Maureen and Helena watched as I performed the act. Helena had the cruel smile on her face. She lit a cigarette and carried on watching.

"Where shall I come dear?"

"Come all over her Darling. It's my treat!"

He did. He spurted all over my face and hair. Droplets dripped onto my beautiful black dress.

"Clean him up whore."

I licked his cock clean. His wife tucked him back in. She pecked him on the cheek.

I stood up to go to clean up.

Helena glared at me. I sat down.

They stayed for another half an hour.

They totally ignored me, as they chatted about how well their kids were doing.

I was sat, sullenly listening, my face covered in drying cum.

They left without saying a word to me.

Helena returned and sat facing me.

"You did well Jayne."

I didn't smile. I had been tricked and humiliated.

"I want Roberta."

"How many?"

"Five"

We went into the punishment room. I took the the agony, as the paddle smashed into my buttocks. I didn't cry out. I watched my beating in the mirror. My cum covered face had no expression.

I said nothing, but left and went to the "Whore Room."

Helena came to me. She held me. She licked the dried sperm off my face, and we actually made love.

She had won, so had I.

We went to her room. That was the night we became lovers.

I wouldn't be doing my job right, if I didn't give you a happy ending.

Helena and I are still lovers.

I moved in with her, and business is booming.

My father and I never had sex again, (together!)

Abigail moved in with him. He's a happy man.

Thank you for reading. I may not write again.

If I do, next time, it will be a work of fiction.

Jayne X