Chapter 3

Today, I give my first math lessons with my new clothes. I quickly realize that my clothes cause an obvious commotion when I enter my classroom and there are also more whispers than usual.

During the course, I give a good part of the class time to the group to work on a copy of exams from previous years. I sit at my desk to be available to answer questions as needed. I do this to help students who are struggling, but mostly to reduce, at least for today, the risk of showing my sex or breasts by accident. It works well. In spite of everything, I manage to teach without too much difficulty. It happens in much the same way during all my classes of the day.

However the day isn’t over yet. I still have the last class of the afternoon. This is the group that the students who raped me on Monday are part of. I don’t imagine it’s going to go as well with them as it did with my other classes today. I’m trying the same tactic with this class, which is to have students work on exam papers while I’m at my desk answering questions.

Except that within the first few minutes, Sarah approaches me and under the guise of asking me a question, she leans towards me. She slides her hand under my skirt and deliberately start to caresses my pubis, then my clitoris before pushing a finger in my vagina.

Then she whispers to me: “It’s much better this way, doggy! Then in a more normal voice, she says: “Thank you, Mrs. Larsen”, before she goes back to her seat.

One after the other, all the students who raped me on Monday come to my desk under the pretext of asking me a question. It’s always a pretext to take the opportunity to pull up my skirt and play with my sex.

Between some of these rapists who manipulate my sex, there are students who have real mathematical questions. When this happens, I have to quickly and discreetly put my skirt back on.

Towards the end of class, my pussy is wet and despite my shame, I am turned on.

As I feared and hoped a little at the same time, at the end of the course, all the students leave the classroom, except for the group consisting of Anthony Mitchell, Jack Swenson, Caleb Landon, Julian Blaine, and Sarah Wade. Anthony locks the door while the others undress me without saying anything. Except for Sarah, who only takes off her skirt, the others get totally naked.

Sarah then sits down in my seat at the desk and tells me to come over. I stand naked in front of my student and she grabs my breasts firmly with both hands to force me to kneel in front of her. Then she grabs me by the hair to place my mouth on her pussy. To avoid falling, I put my hands on the ground.I’m on all fours and Sarah says: “You know what to do, bitch, come on, make me cum!”

I start stroking her sex with my mouth and tongue, then a few moments later I feel a cock sink into my vagina. With Sarah’s hands in my hair, I can’t tell who’s fucking me. What difference does it make. Anyway, I already know they’re all going to fuck me one after the other.

Unlike last time with them, this time I was quite excited by their manipulations during the course. When a second man thrusts his rigid member into my pussy, I orgasm, screaming into Sarah’s sex. The cheerleader also climax a moment later. She holds me in place and I continue to lick her. I have an orgasm again when a cock ejaculates for the fifth time inside me. Sarah also cums and crushes my mouth on her sex.

I keep licking Sarah’s pussy as long as the men keep fucking me and that she holds my head there. My mouth and hair hurt and I don’t have another orgasm, unlike Sarah who seems to cum again every few minutes.

I don’t know how many times they fucked me, but eventually my vagina remains empty for several minutes and I can feel the sperm dripping from my vagina. Sarah pushes me away and gets up after one last orgasm.

The small group leaves the room without saying a word. This time, I arrived prepared. This morning, I brought a box of tissues into my class and I’m using them to clean myself and I’m sticking a ball in my vagina to keep the sperm from leaking on the way back to my room.

I get dressed and I head to the dormitories. On the spot, I go into the shower. As I wash, I realize it’s going to be a long session. Because yes, I’ve had orgasms, but the hurt on my scalp caused by Sarah is only starting to subside.

I fall asleep moments after going to bed.

This morning, while I’m eating with Jenna and Grace, a student hand me a message from Mr. Bentley. He tells me he wants to see me at the end of the day after my last class. I ask my companions if they have any idea what Mr. Bentley is going to do to me, but they are unable to help me. In fact, they are very surprised, because normally he has no contact with slaves.

At least today will be easier than yesterday. I’m going to stick to my plan and since I don’t have any of my rapists in my classes today and tomorrow, everything should be fine. I’ll have to get used to moving around quickly in my new clothes, because next week I won’t have the choice to give real classes.

When we’re done eating, Jenna and Grace take me on a tour of the other rooms, just to introduce me to the other slaves. Not that I should have much contact with them, but Grace believes it’s best to know who’s who.

There are 13 in all, but Jenna says the number changes from month to month based on arrivals and departures. Some are friendly, but the majority don’t seem to want to socialize. They say hello to me, that’s all. With two exceptions, all of them are relatively young and all of them are beautiful.

I note that the slave pendant can have two shapes, heart and cat’s paw, and that there are four possible colors for the pendants, i.e. red, blue, green, and gold. None of the slaves know exactly what the shape or color of the pendant means.

After these introductions, I go back to my room to get ready for my teaching day.

The day went well, as expected. Nevertheless, now I’m a little worried. I head to the college CEO’s office. What does Mr. Bentley want from me? I hope it won’t be something too horrible.

I arrive at the office and the secretary is not there. The door to Mr. Bentley’s office open and he is alone.

I’m wondering if I should move forward or not, but he sees me and he smiles, saying: “Just in time Sigrid. I want to get to know you better and that’s why we’re going to spend the evening together. Do you like pizza?”

I’m so surprised that I just nod. He adds: “Except that before eating, you have an appointment with a hairdresser!”

For years, I’ve almost never cut my hair, and now it’s almost reaching my lower back. I like to have long hair. Obviously, I’m going to be forced to change that. I just hope the cut won’t be too drastic, but I’m not getting my hopes up too much.

He closes and locks the door to his office behind us and we walk to the parking lot together. He has a red Corvette that shine like its brand new from the dealership.

He takes me to a hairdresser in a shopping mall. Mr. Bentley says my name and immediately a hairdresser takes me to a chair to cut my hair. She doesn’t ask me for my preferences, she just washes my hair and then she starts cutting them. I don’t have a choice, but I’m a little scared to see the result. In fact, I keep my eyes closed during the whole cut.

Eventually, it’s over. She stops and tells me to look. It’s even worse than I feared. My hairs are very short, stopping at the bottom of my ears and the hairdresser has thinned it out as well. After a few minutes, I smile, realizing I’m not really upset about this change. In fact, that this cut makes me look younger.

Mr. Bentley seems very pleased with the result and even leaves a $50 tip for the hairdresser!

We go back to the car and Mr. Bentley takes me to his house. Jefferson Bentley lives in a small house on the outskirts of Whitefield with a well-maintained ground. As soon as we are inside the house and the door is closed behind us, Mr. Bentley says: “Undress, Sigrid.”

He put my clothes in a closet in the hallway, then he leads me to the basement which is a home theater room with a large 4-seater sofa and a truly giant TV screen. It’s almost completely covering the wall in front of the sofa. The floor is covered with some kind of ceramic and the floor must have a heating system inside as the tiles are warm to the touch.

Mr. Bentley calls and orders pizza for the two of us, then motions for me to sit on the couch with him. He remains dressed and looks at me with a strangely intense gaze and he caresses me on my whole body, but especially my breasts and my vulva.

Then, the doorbell rings and he order me to go upstairs with him. I can’t be sure, but I think I can guess what he wants to do. He greets the delivery man while I try, as best I can, to hide behind Mr. Bentley. The delivery man is a young man whom Mr. Bentley knows well, for he says to him, “Good evening, Ricco, are your studies still going well? Are you looking forward to studying at Hornburg College?”

The delivery guy replies, “Yes, Mr. Bentley, I make sure I keep good grades and I train to be a member of the football team!”

Mr. Bentley replied, “Well, well! Here’s the money for the pizza.”

Then, taking me by the arm and putting me in front of him, he adds: “ I have a different tip this time. How about getting a blowjob from this pretty woman?”

So, I guessed right and I also know that I’m not going to have a choice, but to obey.

I immediately realize that the young man in question, whom I hadn’t looked at carefully before, must be 18 years old at most, but probably younger. He’s cute, despite a bit of acne, but too young for me to do anything with him. At least, not voluntarily. The delivery man seemed very surprised and blushed as he looked at me, but after a moment’s hesitation he says: “If it is possible, I should be very happy Mr. Bentley.”

He adds: “I’ve never had a blowjob before!”

So, I approach the young man and I get down on my knees. I open his fly to pull out the young man’s half-hard penis. I take him in hand and masturbate him for a while, but I realize that the young man is likely to ejaculate very quickly. I take it in my mouth and only have time to make a slight sucking motion before I receive the young man’s sperm in my mouth. I swallow everything, which doesn’t taste much, and then stand up.

The delivery man looks at me and says, blushing again: “Thank you!”

He also thanks Mr. Bentley before leaving quickly. We go back to the basement and eat our pizza, which is very good, in silence.

Then he asks me questions about myself, my past, and my family. Like he really cares about me. As if I wasn’t just a slave forced to obey him. It’s very strange, especially since he’s still dressed and I’m completely naked.

Eventually, he gets up and takes off his clothes before sitting down next to me again.

It’s then that I have the confirmation that he is not impotent. Because since he didn’t fuck me or force me to give him a blowjob during our first meeting and tonight, he caressed me, but nothing more, I was starting to believe that he had an infirmity in this area.

No, he is not impotent, quite the contrary. He has a strong erection and his member is not the size of some porn actor, but he has a member larger than any other I have met in the past.

Its home theater system allows it to select videos from a large library divided by topic, then by date and participants. I don’t have time to take a good look, because he’s looking at the options too quickly.

In the videos we watch, I don’t know the people present, except that they are videos with men and slaves, identifiable by the collars they wear. Videos where the slaves seem to take the initiative or, at least, the slave knows very well what she has to do. Is this a way of letting me know that I have to take the initiative? If that’s the case, he’s going to be disappointed. I’m forced to be here, let him tell me what he wants.

One thing is for sure, the videos are high-quality with perfect lighting and images. The scenes are, if you forget the fact that it’s slaves performing, very exciting. Especially since the slaves seem to really enjoy it and even have orgasms.

Without realizing it and even though Mr. Bentley hasn’t touched me again, I feel my desire, my arousal, increase and I have more and more desire to masturbate. Mr. Bentley is hard but also does not masturbate.

Towards the end of one of the videos, he says: “Sigrid, take my cock in your mouth. “ It’s an order and I know I have no choice, but strangely enough, I get the impression from his tone of voice that it’s a request. I lean over him and take his cock in my mouth as a new video starts. He strokes my hair as I continue to suck him. Suddenly, he says: “Now, sit on top of me in front of the screen and fuck me.”

I sit on top of him facing the screen and have his rigid member penetrate my sex. I close my eyes to savor this big cock caressing my vagina deeply. Mr. Bentley takes my breasts and caresses them firmly. I start to move up and down on his very hard cock, keeping control over speed and depth. Slowly, but surely, I feel an orgasm approaching. I hear a scream of pleasure from a woman and that’s when I look at the screen.

I don’t immediately comprehend what I’m seeing on the screen.

Because on the screen, there’s me fucking Mr. Bentley, sitting on top of him while he caresses my tits. Initially, I think there’s a camera filming us live. However, I realize that the furniture is not the same. Also, that the man on the screen is Mr. Bentley, but a Mr. Bentley at least 20 years younger! I also realize that the woman fucking Mr. Bentley is not me, but a woman who looks like me as if she were my twin. Especially with my new haircut.

As I continue to fuck Mr. Bentley, I take a closer look at the woman on the screen. She was almost identical to me, but she was probably a little younger than me at the time. I finally notice that she has a necklace that had a golden heart-shaped stone, not blue like mine.

I close my eyes to focus on my pleasure. Several minutes go by and I’m almost ready to cum when I hear Mr. Bentley scream of pleasure and cummings inside me at the same time as he pinches my nipples. This sensation in my breasts makes me explode in a powerful orgasm.

For a moment I have no energy left and I slump on Mr. Bentley’s chest. I open my eyes and on the screen, the young woman has now turned around and kisses the younger version of Mr. Bentley.

I decide to do the same. I turn around to face Mr. Bentley. That’s when I see that his eyes are closed and his cheeks are covered with tears. For a while, I don’t know what to do. Finaly, I decide to do what the woman on the screen does and I lean over to kiss him. He responds to my kiss and we stay for long minutes just kissing, our tongues gently playing with each other.

Kissing someone may be more intimate than fucking. I didn’t realize it until today. Yes, I kissed Jenna and Grace, but they were gestures of comfort, of sharing between women. None of my rapists ever kissed me.

Eventually, Mr. Bentley stops kissing me, turns off the television and lifts me to my feet. Then he said, pointing to a door at the back of the room, “Go clean yourself in the bathroom and come back here.”

It is a bathroom with only a toilet and a sink. I clean myself as much as I can, wondering what it all means. Who is the woman in the video, why did he cry after fucking, but most importantly, am I going to pay for seeing this weakness in him?

When I’m back, he’s dressed up and he says: “From now on, every Thursday, you’ll come with me to eat here and spend the evening with me. Your status as a slave doesn’t change, but if you have a problem with one of the masters or need something, you can come to me to talk about it.”

He adds in a firmer voice: “And to be clear, you don’t tell anyone, and I mean nobody, about what you saw and what happened here. Understood?”

I’m so relieved that I’m not going to suffer any backlash because of what I’ve seen that I quickly respond: “Understood.”

A few minutes later, I’m dressed again and I’m back in his car. He drops me off in front of the dormitory.

I lay down in talking with no one and even though it takes a few minutes before I succeed, I finally fall asleep with the image of me and Bentley kissing tenderly.

It’s Friday night and the week is finally over. Today, as yesterday, mathematics classes were uneventful.

I survived that first week of slavery! I will be able to stay in my room reading or sleep on the weekend without being forced to sleep with someone.

Yes, it seems that I still underestimate the masters. Because when I get to my room there is a message on my bed with clothes. This time, the message is not from Mr. Bentley, but from Charles Grégoire. The message is short and to the point:

You will be going to the address on the back of this message tomorrow evening at 7:00 p.m.

I spend Saturday worrying instead of actually relaxing. Especially since Grace and Jenna aren’t there, like the majority of the other slaves.

Evening arrives and I am at the appointed time at the address indicated. It’s a small, ordinary house, in a quiet neighborhood just a few minutes’ walk from the Reedland building. It’s Charles who answers when I ring the doorbell. He gives me a big smile and says, “Just in time, my little whore!”