“You’re getting better at cock-sucking Debbie,” I said. “Perhaps you’re finally learning your place in life, eh?”
A tear rolled down her cheek, as she nodded yes.
“And what is your place Debbie?” I asked. “Are you a bitchy real-estate manager anymore?”
“No Master,” she moaned, in between sucks. “I’m just a slutty slave girl now,”
I had given Debbie (I had changed her name to “Debbie” because I thought “Deborah” was too dignified) some clothes and told her to try to run away, as I often do with girls when I am breaking them in. But Debbie surprised me. She didn’t run very far, she just walked out of site and sat down, and waited for me to claim her.
“I know I can’t get away,” she said when I found her. She was staring at her feet like a little girl who’d been caught doing something bad. “Just please, don’t hurt me so much. You could be nice to me, like you are with Monica. I… I could be a good girl.”
This surprised me a little bit, but I guess it made sense. So much of Debbie’s conditioning had been forcing her to realize that no one had ever liked her. Now she saw me giving affection and kindness to another girl, and she wanted affection too. She was starved for compassion.
But just because she’s jealous of another girl, that doesn’t mean I should trust her. It’s never wise to put too much trust in a woman.
“I’m going to hurt you a lot Debbie. You know that. You need to be punished to remind you of your place,” I said.
“Yes Master,” she sighed.

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