The Poor Guy's Slave

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to have someone at your feet, begging, pleading with you to have sex? Or, do you wish that for once in your solitary pathetic life, you would wake up with hands rubbing every inch of your body before grabbing the hardest part that yearns to be touched? Do you honestly think that would cure the amount of money you spend on tissues and porn subscriptions? Ha, think again, my friend. Unfortunately, it’s not as great as you think it would be, and let me explain why. For the sake of introduction, you can call me Master Ceil because you will soon understand why having a sex slave is not all it’s cracked up to be. Yes, I said sex slave, and yes, I may seem ungrateful and still pathetic in the end, but trust me, YOU do not want a sex slave! Especially the one I currently still have. So, let’s get to the hows and whys of it happening. First, how did I end up so “LUCKY,” you may ask? I didn’t. It wasn’t a matter of luck but more of a curse set

I looked around and, honestly, didn’t feel it was that bad. I mean, sure, there was a stack of dishes covered in food in my sink, and I couldn’t help that trash days were days I always forgot. The tissues by my computer could be explained, but that was a private conversation I didn’t have with anyone. She smiled and snapped her fingers while walking over to my little kitchen table. The contract folded in on itself until it was the size of a folded piece of paper. She picked the small thing up and popped it into her suit jacket pocket. “Now then, your slave will be here shortly. Remember the main details of the contract, no abuse, and if the enslaved says no to sex, it is obligated to perform, and you as well. You can sleep with whomever you like, but it doesn’t count toward the quota. The slave will not be clingy or require you to dote on it.” I was nodding at her every word until she turned around and leaned over my ripped couch. She reached for a porn magazine, and her ass was in

At that moment, I had no regrets. With the way she looked at me and smiled, how could I? The only problem then, at that moment, was a complete silence that filled my room. “Uh, well, do you want to,” I started to ask her if she was hungry, but it wasn’t what she had in mind. It was like she pounced on me, and before I knew it, I was on my apartment floor with her trying to take off my shirt. “Whoa, hold on, Rose, hey, wait for a second,” I said, fighting to pull my shirt back down as she grunted and fought to pull it up over my head. “Eeeoompha, we must seal the contract, Master! Let Rose do the work. You just lay back, Master. I will pleasure YOU tonight!” She ripped my shirt in half when pulling it over my head wouldn’t work and started rubbing my chest with long delicate fingers. Sitting there and watching her rub them along my chest and stomach, she stopped at the edge of my pants. “Whoa! Wait, stop, um, we... should probably eat something first? Huh? Need energy to do it

I was distracting her so I could clean up and order pizza. If I kept her talking, it would give me time to better mentally prepare myself for what was to come, no pun intended. She sniffled, “When we were created in Hell as sex slaves, there are levels we must achieve to find our perfect forever Master. The higher the level, the better the Master. At each level, we do an internship in Hell with one certain Master, and our behavior is evaluated. Then, we move on to the next class.” I was shocked. Whoever came up with that idea was brilliant. “So, it’s like college. You take courses and have to pass them to take the next level. Makes sense, so what happened that you couldn’t keep going?” I had put the beer on the counter and dumped the noodles in the trash. I had no money, but I remembered I had pizza points, just enough for one free cheese pizza. Unfortunately, I didn’t have any cash for the delivery guy, but I would make it up to him later. “Once we achieve the perfect cuteness,

“Emm, thank you, Master! Rose doesn’t eat food, but it tastes yummy.” I sighed as my stomach growled and set the cup of beer down for her to drink while I slammed my down. “Rose, can I ask you something?” She nodded enthusiastically like a child, “Of course, Master. I will always tell you whatever you want to know!” I grinned and nodded, “Why didn’t you sleep with that Grand Master? Then, if you had, you could have advanced and found your perfect Master.” Looking at me thoughtfully, she shook her head, “No, Rose could never sleep with him. I did refuse, but it wasn’t until after what I had heard from the other sex slaves what he did to them.” “What did he do?” Taking a deep breath, she sat back in the kitchen chair and fiddled with the ends of her hair, “He would cut them, tie them up. One slave told me he even choked her until she passed out, and when she woke up, he had tied a gag around her mouth and made her watch him abuse other slaves. I knew he was like that. One time he