The Slut's Apprentice Ch. 10

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Sticking to house rules is so much safer.
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Part 8 of the 19 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 12/16/2017
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Chapter 4.3

7th January

Slut uses her head and makes a mint

The previous night had been quiet and I was stood down at midnight and went straight to bed. I woke before the lark at just after six. I thought about lying in but I was too restless. I always sleep in the nip with the curtains drawn and a window ajar. I went to said window to check the outside temperature. Although it was still dark or a least as dark as London ever gets, I could see frost on the grass.

I padded down the corridor to the bathroom. There was no need to put on clothes that early in the morning. I used the facilities and had a very quick intensely cold shower and was back in my room within five minutes.

I got dressed quickly. Two layers on top; tight crop top and looser long sleeve shirt, one layer on the bottom; multicoloured running tights. No knickers. And a bobble hat. I like to be cold when I run but I hate cold ears.

Living in a hotel, I did not need to worry about keys or telling someone where I was going. I tripped lightly down the stairs and grabbed some orange juice from the staff fridge and then bounced into the lobby, kissed Roy the night porter and let myself out the front door. I love running on the common early in the morning. Summer is of course best but at any time of the year I rarely have company apart from the odd insomniac dog walker, foxes, badgers, rabbits and lots of birds. Plus, the occasional stoat or weasel. The main problem in summer is being distracted and stopping to marvel at nature, which screws up my running times. I have never felt threatened and I reckon that most rapists are not early risers. I have various routes that I take. I usually like to take in at least one of the ponds and I like to see the ducks skating when they are frozen.

That morning I decided to take one of my short routes. I alternate long runs for stamina and short runs for strength. It was the turn of muscle bulk that day. Maintaining a Viking physique is hard work but enjoyable. I set off across the road at a fast lick. If I had tried that in the day time I would have ended spread thinly on the tarmac. If the traffic was moving that is. In the rush hour I would merely have been asphyxiated. Even frozen grass feels better that concrete and I headed straight for one of the woods. This part of the common was genuinely dark but I was familiar with the route and I had the misplaced confidence of the young. I was not however quite bold enough to run through in the dark, mainly for fear of tripping and breaking my neck against a tree trunk. I am blessed with natural clumsiness.

The mud path skirted the trees far enough for me to see an assailant had one been lurking. He would have to have been pretty fast to intercept me. As usual there was nobody hiding amongst the trees and I picked up speed across the open grass towards the little pond, the ducks, geese and swans were fluffed up on dry land and being London fowl assiduously ignored me.

I swung around the pond and headed in a long curve back to the hotel. The front door was unlocked. Roy had seen me on the CCTV.

"Twenty-two minutes and twenty seconds, Miss Cat. Close to your personal best."

Another advantage of living in a hotel. The night porters not only timed my runs and made sure I returned safely but kept a spreadsheet which I could show to my coach who thought all her girls were slackers. Another trip to the kitchen for a pint of water which I gulped down before refilling it and hopping up the stairs to the top floor. I was topless by the time I reached my bedroom and the tights came off in seconds. All were lobbed into my washing basket. I had laid my leotard on the bed and I slipped into it quickly, aware that I was cooling and my muscles were tightening.

The hotel has a well-equipped gym on the ground floor and a small weights room up the top amongst the old garrets. This floor has the old servants' rooms which is where I lived along with the rest of the live-in staff. Mum has a suite on the ground floor, closer to the action. The upstairs gym is available to guests but hardly used. I went there every day as did Dani and most of the live-in boys. Dani was prone to working out in the buff and would accommodate any erect penis that passed by, but I was shier. If I was feeling very daring I might wear a thong but I generally did not service my co-workers.

The gym had a Nautilus machine and a couple of benches with free weights but was otherwise pretty snug. It had a shower and some lockers. The hotel aircon did not extend to the top floor and the room always reeked of man sweat. As ever I shuddered and curled my nose. I really do not like the smell of human bodies which is my biggest professional challenge. I threw the windows open as wide as they would go, letting out some of the smell and letting the ice-cold morning air in. I set about my weight regime. This was fairly simple. I did all my muscle groups and chose weights that I could only just manage and kept going until my muscles screamed at me to stop. This kept me toned and was a moderate form of self harm. The pain also turned me on and would be followed by leisurely masturbation in my bed. Or rushed masturbation on a school day.

I do not do music when I do weights but the hammering of my own heart beat meant that I did not know how long the man had been watching me. The extreme tenting of his shorts suggested that he had not just stumbled upon me. He was a guest so my irritation quickly changed to customer service. I sat up and emitted a rather feeble.

"Hi."

He was young and American, dressed in loose shorts and a vest, muscular with an apparently very large penis.

"I am sorry if I disturbed you, miss. I was entranced by your body. Please carry on. Can I touch?"

He was nothing if not forward.

"Yes, I suppose," I replied, sensing financial advantage.

"How much?" he replied.

I suggested an outrageous fee which he accepted immediately. I gave him my name. He picked up the wall phone and spoke to Roy. The resident guests have their own code.

"Hi, Roy. This is Mr White. I had a shaving accident an Miss Chloe is cleaning up the mess. I am out of cash and I would like to tip her ten pounds."

That is what would appear on his official bill. It would be some orders of magnitude higher on the bill that he would actually pay.

He nodded and terminated the call. I was working on my quads. And he placed a hand on my sweaty left thigh and smiled as the muscles worked hard underneath.

Unsurprisingly he next asked me if I would remove my leotard. Another exorbitant tip was negotiated. Then I agreed to be sniffed. As I worked my shoulders he sniffed my armpits, much to my disgust. At least they were smooth. I then did my adductors whilst he sniffed my sweaty box.

I let him lick my sweat for free but charged him a fortune for anything else he wanted that did not push me too far.

I laid face down on one of the benches to do my hamstrings whilst he thrust his cock in and out of my mouth. It was long and thin and curved like a banana. The bend was the wrong way for me and try as I might I could not get his entire length down my throat. This was more than he expected however and he had to swiftly withdraw before he ejaculated. The man had one of those southern accents that turn me on.

"You really are quite exceptionally beautiful, Miss Chloe. I love muscular women but it is hard if you will excuse the pun, to purchase one who is not pumped full of steroids. I also don't like all the fake tan. You look so natural and your pale skin is fantastic. You smell good and your accent is unbelievably sexy. And you are very pretty too."

"Why thank you, sir," I managed. Keep the client happy.

Once his cock had regained its composure, he positioned me for stuffing. Feet apart, bent at the waist with a ten-kilogram dumbbell in each hand. He put one hand on my hip and used the other to position his penis. I felt it pressing against my vulva and typically it was a little too high. He apologised and said that I had the smallest pussy that he had ever encountered. I repositioned his member and we proceeded. First, I had to do a straight lift from the waist with my arms extended in front of me. Once fully upright I had to return to my starting position slowly. On the third lift he entered me. Hard. My pelvic floor was of course fully contracted to do the lift. Otherwise my insides would have fallen out. This made me incredibly tight which the man pointed out with evident appreciation.

It also hurt a lot. My mind was cast back a long time to when Alex deflowered me. She had told me that it would hurt and it did. Ever since, I have associated vaginal penetration with pain. The more the better. Once he was inside me I was exceedingly wet and fully spearing me was easy. He was way longer than my vagina is happy with and the curvature of his penis was totally wrong for doggy. This just made the pain better.

I let out a scream and uttered some words of Anglo-Saxon, but then apologised as he paused. I pushed back as hard as I could, bearing in mind that I was unsupported. He helped by gripping my hips but still, doing the bending was only safe for my back with straight and still legs. The man increased the speed and power of his penetration and I started to feel a bit dizzy. As I straightened up to standing he nearly lifted me off my feet so that my entire weight was supported by his cock and my perineum.

I was sweating a lot from a combination of working with the weights and having my pussy hammered harder than she had experienced for ages. I was going to come and I was not sure if my knees could stay locked. I feared injury but gritted my teeth and kept going. He told me to stop when I got to ninety degrees which was probably when my pelvic muscles were working the hardest. I was ordered to do arm extensions in that position as he was most enamoured with my upper back and shoulders.

I had done twenty when his fingers started to hurt me. He announced that he was going to come and so did I: a particularly intense orgasm which was the best I ever experienced with a male client. My knees quivered a bit but I managed to bend a little and put the dumbbells back on the floor before I slipped a disc. The man rather considerably slowed down his thrusting, disengaged and then turned me around and kissed me. That was another freebie.

He watched me shower and then did himself. Even at rest his penis was impressive.

Once we were dressed, he asked me.

"You're an early riser, Miss Chloe. What would you have done if I had not interrupted you?"

I decided to be bold.

"I would have gone back to my room, had a wank and then an hour's nap."

He did not quite understand.

"Masturbate. Girls do it too."

He smiled and invited me back to his room for a little nap. Once we had agreed compensation, I nipped back to my room and put on a nightie before joining the man in his suite. The randy sod was naked and sporting another massive erection. I guessed that it was not quite ready for sleep.

The man was actually quite attractive and certainly polite. I did not fall for the compliments though. I had grown up with the folklore of interacting with clients. Attraction was OK as long as it was handled correctly. After all, Nan had married her best client otherwise I would not be here to write this tale. The richest girls in the house were not the best looking but those who got inside men's heads on the way to their wallets.

He lay down on his back on the bed and invited me to show him my little pussy again. I disrobed, climbed on the bed and shuffled backwards to give him a suitable view.

"Oh, yes," he announced. "Incredibly cute and smells delicious."

'I suppose so if you are a lover of rotten fish,' I thought.

He set about licking my muffin at which he was pretty good although I think such tongue action should only be done by women. Not that many women who had been down on me had shown any competence.

Now that we were in sixty-nine the banana shape was not a problem and I set about playing the bendy pink oboe which slipped into my mouth easily over my tongue and down my throat. All men love that. He was neat and tidy down there and I was able to suck quite a lot of his scrotum into my mouth. I could not open wide enough to accommodate a testicle but I came close. My breath holding was also appreciated as was my vigorous bouncing and tongue technique. He really enjoyed this too much and when his cock started to twitch, I applied a vice like squeeze to prevent an explosion.

The man had moved his oral administrations to my puckered pink starfish and had inserted a finger into my anus. This felt rather nice. I disengaged and gave him a knowing look. I walked sexily to the bathroom and looked back over my shoulder.

"If you want backdoor action, big boy I am going to need a considerable amount of lube."

I returned with a pump dispenser and applied a thick layer of jelly to his whole shaft, wanking it as I went. Then I straddled him and lowered myself onto the pink banana. Doggy or reverse cowgirl is the natural position for anal sex but facing forward was perfect for this man. I was quite surprised at how easily his shaft slid into my fortunately empty anus and rectum. It felt far too goo and I realised that I could easily get used to being pleasured that way on a regular basis.

I bent forward and gave him a rather expert sensuous kiss, the type I normally reserve for the non-paying. I kept still for a bit then lifted up and invited him to thrust. He did not disappoint. The man made a familiar request.

"Speak to me in that British accent."

'Whatever turns you on,' I thought. My accent was rather popular with American gentlemen. Talking dirty was OK but talking educated pushed more buttons. I started.

"O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?".

The man smiled and thrusted harder. Unfortunately, that is a very short speech. When I finished, the man laughed.

"Brilliant but a bit corny."

Rising to the challenge I moved to a longer one; Mark Anthony this time.

"O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth,"

The man also did not disappoint. Just as I got to the end of the speech he let slip the dogs of war right up my arse. I did not come myself but I came quite close enough to be satisfied and keen for more.

Once he had softened inside me, he invited me to fall asleep on his chest; an offer I readily accepted. He woke me after an hour. Room service had delivered coffee, juice and croissants and I joined the man for breakfast.

"Well miss, I cannot remember such an enlivening start to my day. How about the same again tomorrow?"

I pulled a face.

"I would love to but I have to go to school. "

My face was sprayed with crumbs. I had said too much.

"Don't panic. I am eighteen. It's all legal. Well, it isn't but that's not the reason."

He had regained his composure a little.

"So, you're a high school senior who moonlights. Is that right? And you graduate in the summer? I thought you were older but looking again you really look younger. The bruise on your cheek doesn't help. Sorry. I don't generally screw kids."

I did not want to get bogged down in the technicalities of different educational systems so I just said yes. I tried to give away as little personal information as possible but I could not resist telling him about my A-levels and my plans for university. I said that I was planning to study history at Edinburgh which was a big fat lie.

Once we had established that I was a young adult and after some discussion, he overcame his distaste for young meat. The next morning I ran as usual but then went straight to his room and did a very quick sweaty dance on his bendy pole. The kindly American was very keen to help pay for my university fees.

Talking of which I knew that I was going to have to work hard to get the necessary grades. I foreswore recreational sex until my A-levels, not really expecting to last more than a week. I turned out to be more disciplined than expected, much to Alex's disgust.

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