Cutty

No character is or was ever real. No part of the story is a fantasy of the author. No part of this story may be used or posted on a site without prior express and written permission of the author.

Copyright 2009 by Bokkey.

Story by Bokkey

e-mail: bokkey2004@yahoo.com

Chapter 44 - The Whore Teacher

Donna sat at the kitchen table, taking a break from her morning duties. She had still so much to do! She looked at her nails to check if she had done them correctly. She had done so five times already in the last minute alone, but she kept forgetting. Her mind couldn’t hold anything anymore; she was so desperate for sleep.

As she sat in the chilly kitchen, she had to constantly rub herself; both her holes itched terribly. She never had had it this bad. Both her pussy and ass were flaming red. It had to be some kind of infection caused by her all-night buggering. And as she thought about it, her hand slipped inside her vagina again as if acting on its own. At the same time, Donna began to rub her ass across the seat of her chair so that her butt plug would be forced inside her and scratch her inner ass hole roughly. How could she get through the day, feeling like this?

Donna looked at herself. The whip marks were still visible, even though her skin glistened with soothing oil. Her white lace corset was okay. She pulled her white stockings up tightly for the umpteenth time. Must watch out not to tear them, Donna reminded herself.  Hadn't she just told herself that?  She looked out of the kitchen. Had she cleaned the living room already? She vaguely thought she had. And what time is it anyway? She looked for a clock.

“Hi, Mom.”

Donna’s face immediately turned red as Trixy walked in. Quickly, she stopped rubbing herself on the chair and removed her hand from her vagina, only to reveal her wet fingers as they grabbed her coffee mug. But Trixy seemed indifferent to her mother’s actions as she simply passed by to fetch herself a drink. Not even the wardrobe Donna had been given to wear seemed to surprise her daughter.

Ninon had Donna dressed up like a 19th-century whore right after she was released from the terrible machine. The outfit even included vintage can-can shoes with wooden soles. It must be ridiculous to see your own mother in a corset, with a large ribbon knot at the back, no panties, stockings with vintage garter belt. The layers of make up on Donna’s face, the large false dark black eye lashes, her pushed-up curled hair with the fake small satin flowers and ribbons in it. Even the make-up on her nipples, even if they were mostly hidden behind the tight corset.

Yet despite all this there was no real response from Trixy, and that made it worse for Donna. Her daughter clearly accepted this all as Donna's own doing.  She was probably convinced Donna was doing this out of her own sheer depravity. And if her own daughter believed it…

“Look, she’s turning red.” Ninon was accompanying Trixy. “She’s so lost right now.”

And that was true. Donna was lost, completely lost. She was tired, exhausted; her pussy and ass controled her thoughts constantly. And she didn’t want to think because when she did, her mind flooded with images of all that she had done lately, making her feel so ashamed, so low.  More than that, she had so still much to get done. Her day's schedule was packed with things to do. It was difficult enough to keep focused on those alone, Donna was finding out.

And so Donna figured she should just focus on her warm coffee and let things go for a moment. She still had to clean the rest of the house, she had an appointment with her new teacher, and then there was work to go to.  The only bright spot was the spa afterwards, though her whip marks would raise eyebrows.

“You’re okay, Mom?” Trixy asked as she joined her mother at the kitchen table.

“Yes… “ Donna replied scarily. She watched Ninon looking at her expectantly “… Ms. Trixy.”

“I love it when she says that.” Trixy told Ninon excited.

Donna just smiled meekly, and forced another gulp of coffee down her throat. At least somebody was happy. She needed to get a clear mind. There definitely would be no help from Trixy, she understood. Maybe Julie…?

“Good morning.” Julie walked in and also sat down at the kitchen table. She glimpsed coldly at her mother and then ignored her.

“So much for her help,” Donna decided and took another gulp.

“Julie, we have a meeting with the psychiatrist now regarding this issue in front of us.” Trixy informed Julie.

“Why?” Julie asked, too indifferently.

“You’re serious?” Trixy responded, hinting with her eyes at Donna and her lewd attire.

Donna watched the conversation that took place as if she wasn’t there. It amazed her how quickly her whole world had turned around. Not only were her actions no longer hidden from her daughters, but Donna felt as if she now had lost all control over them too.

And Donna knew that she no longer was able to fight to regain her control as their parent.  The look of disgust from Julie had hurt her deeply. She had lost all respect that Julie had ever had for her, and rightfully so.  Donna was so ashamed of what had happened last night in Julie’s room.  How could Julie ever understand why Donna would follow last nights degrading performance by dressing up in this ridiculously slutty aoutfit?  Even Donna couldn’t understand herself anymore!

The kiss of Trixy’s hand was also still clear in Donna’s mind. Why had she done that? Actually, she knew the answer; she wanted desperately to please her tormentors, and she knew showing her submission to her daughters would please them. And Trixy’s hand seemed to have been placed there to be kissed. It had felt natural, given the circumstances.

But those circumstances were ridiculous, Donna reminded herself.

Yet Donna was overwhelmed by a feeling that she indeed had fallen lower than her daughters. They didn’t let their worlds fall apart as she did. They saw right from wrong  clearly.  They were still behaving normally.

That was why Donna desperately wanted to speak to the psychiatrist too.  She had so many worries on her mind that she would rather tell everything to the psychiatrist, even if Melinda would most likely give answers Donna wouldn’t like or understand.

And damn that itch! It just wouldn’t go away. She started to gently rock the chair again.

“I thought it best to call her in, since your mother’s behavior lately has degenerated,” Ninon explained to Julie. “She’ll be here any moment.”

She bent over and whispered into Donna’s ear: “ ... and you have your own meeting with your teacher.”

Donna tried to recall her schedule of the day again. She had to meet with someone new again -- her ‘whore’ teacher. Whatever that entailed.

Luckily, the doorbell finally saved Donna from her ordeal.

“That’s the psychiatrist,” Ninon said. “Let’s meet with her in the garden.  That way, your mother can clean up here and in the living room… and maybe herself.”

Hadn’t she already cleaned the living room? Confused and not really able to think clearly, Donna looked back into that room. She saw a whip on the floor but she felt her Ben Waa balls inside her, she had picked those up. Her itch was killing her again, distracting her. If her daughters left, she had to first scratch herself thoroughly again.

“You’ll clean the dishes.  Right, Mom?” Trixy asked playfully.

Donna knew she was trying her out again; Ninon had just left and was at the door ,letting her psychiatrist in so it was just between them now. It had been the girls'  chore to clean the dishes on the weekends and during vacation times, as was cleaning the house for that matter.  But Donna knew those rules wouldn’t apply anymore. “Yes, Ms. Trixy, I’ll do the dishes.”

“You see, it does have it’s benefits.” Trixy said happily to Julie.

Julie said nothing but Donna knew how much she hated to do the dishes. She knew Julie was happy she didn’t had to do chores this morning. And Donna hoped that her doing them instead might somehow change Julie's hostile attitude a little. Donna actually feared how angry Julie appeared to be; nothing good could come from an angry teenager out of control.

Donna finished her coffee as the others went into the cold back garden. She wondered how much coffee she had drunk already. It just didn’t seem to work. Finally alone, she gave herself permission to scratching herself unceremoniously once again.

“Owww, that feels so good!”  She whispered to herself.  Donna felt herself becoming aroused again but she didn’t want to bring herself off. She would not let her body rule her mind.

Finally, she forced herself to get up and clean the living room. As she did so, she saw the group outside talking. To her surprise, Bridgette was there too. She recalled that at all the sessions Bridgette had to be present, but Donna hadn’t seen her pass by. What would they tell Bridgette now? And what would Bridgette in turn tell their mutual friends?

She bent down to pick up the whip that had been left behind and a collection of dildos that Donna didn’t even know she had, let alone that they had been used on her yesterday. The stains in the white carpet were a problem; the wool carpet was ruined, just like Julie’s upstairs. She tried to scrub some places but knew it was useless and soon gave up.

As time passed, she saw the debate outside getting heated with Julie and Bridgette clearly in disagreement with the others. What lies were they being told right now? And how difficult would it be for Donna to live those lies?  She sat on her knees on the carpet and started to whimper a little out of sheer self pity.

Just then the doorbell rang. All eyes outside focused on Donna in the center of the living room, on her knees amid a collection of dildos. Could she give any ‘better’ wrong message to her children, to Bridgette? And the doorbell just rang on. The person at the door was obviously impatient. Donna, ashamed, smiled politely to the group outside and hurried to the door, glad to be out of view.

“I don’t like waiting in the cold, honey” a strange woman said as she brushed Donna aside and stepped into the warm house.

“How are yah doin’?” The woman unbuttoned her short fur winter coat.

The woman in front of her had fake blond hair, with a perm, and purple strains clearly visible. You could clearly see the brown roots growing out. Her face was made up heavily, lots of pancake, heavy dark blue eye shadow, red lipstick, fake eye lashes. Her nails were a bright pink, she had tattoos on her ankles, one of her calves had a tiger on it, her upper arm had a band of wire tattooed. She wore cheap plastic jewelry, three large hoops in each ear, a collection of colorful plastic bracelets on her arms. A short t-shirt, too small for her large breasts, a short skirt, with worn out laces, and way-out-of-place electric bleu fishnet stockings to complete the picture. No doubt about it, this was her teacher.

“Hello?”  The woman waved at the gazing Donna.

Donna was shaken from her trance. She felt as if she had been looking at a future image of herself.

“Oh, sorry,” Donna said as friendly as possible. “Hello, I’m Donna”

“And I’m your teacher,” the stranger said as they shook hands. “You’re Cutty, right?”

“Yes…” Donna said.

“Then why the fuck did you say "Donna?”

Before Donna could answer that question, the woman gave Donna her coat and walked away into the living room.

“You call me 'Mistress,' and you pay attention to whatever I say, okay?” The woman shouted back as she walked on into the kitchen. “Nice place! I can see you’re pretty rich.”

Donna hurried behind the stranger, afraid the group outside would notice the obvious whore she was with now. From the looks of the group, she saw she was already too late.

“I need some coffee, is this still good,” the whore asked as she moved through the kitchen as though she owned it. “Fetch me a mug, Cutty.”

Donna quickly grabbed a mug from the table and handed it to her.

“Next time, have the coffee fresh.” The woman remarked.

“I’m sorry,” Donna replied.

“We’re not really polite, aren’t we Cutty?” The woman said sternly.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Teacher,” Donna corrected herself, not knowing the woman’s name. It was obvious this woman was into her situation too. She had to watch to follow the rules very strictly around her.

“I told you to call me 'Mistress!'” The woman said raising her voice.

Donna feared the other outside would hear, and replied quickly. “I’m sorry, Mistress.”

“That’s better.” The woman said as she sat down.

Donna stood and observed the woman better. She really looked the part of a cheap hooker. Not only did she wear the part; she just looked as gross too. As if she had not showered for days.  Deep wrinkles were visible on her face, even through the thick layers of makeup. Donna figured she was probably a drug addict too.

“I like it when they call me 'Mistress,'” the woman explained. “Especially when we’re talking about rich uptown cows like you.”

Donna sighed.  This woman promised to be no good. She feared her lessons already.

“Come stand in front of me,” the woman instructed.

Donna reluctantly did.

“What a slut you are!” The woman remarked as she observed how Donna was dressed and forced her to turn around. “You really are one of the more kinky ones!”

“This stuff must have cost a lot!” She felt the corset Donna was wearing. “You are a rich one, and as usual we have the same size… But I don’t like this outfit. Too much clothing, too difficult to get out of… Though you don’t really need to do that with your ass and cunt exposed.”

“Kneel!” The woman instructed next.

Donna knelt in front of her new teacher. Quickly the woman grabbed her face and studied it.

“You’re okay with handling makeup, I see. Though I will teach you what customers really like, not what you think they like. And you have the correct whorish bone structure. Maybe we should advise some surgery to get those eyes changed. They like it more if you have small slutty eyes.”

Her dirty fingers entered Donna’s mouth “Nice teeth, and already a diamond inserted. She used to do gold teeth you know, you’re lucky.”

She felt down towards Donna’s breasts, molding them roughly underneath the corset, making her nipples pop out of the corset.

“Nice set of tits. That will be liked by the boys. They will love to have you rub their dicks with those mammals.”

“I only do women, Mistress,” Donna remarked.

“That’s a first.” The woman laughed. “You really think you will have enough clients that way? The real horny ones are the men, the real ugly and filthy men. Up!”

Donna stood up and tried to put her breasts back into the tight corset.

“Bend over.” The woman said as she turned Donna around.

Donna bent over ,showing the woman her ass and cunt.

“Nice juicy lips, and you’re stretching that ass of yours already. Good.” The woman commented as her hands explored Donna's twin holes, twisting the butt plug painfully.

“No, stupid cow,” the woman continued her lecture. “I will teach you how to be a real whore. You’ll fuck anything for money, whether it be women, men, dogs, monkeys, snakes, anything. And I’ll teach you how to act to satisfy each of them.”

The woman took a sip of the coffee. “Apart from that, I’ll teach you the much more important issues of the trade; how to negotiate with the customer, how to be safe, what the regular prices are nowadays. How to distinguish yourself from the rest of the whores.”

Donna listened intently to her teacher, still bent over. She understood another complexity had been introduced into her life. Not only was this woman apparently cruel, dominating, but she also expected her to fuck men, something Ms. Brendan explicitly had forbidden. But Donna didn’t want to argue with her right now. Her main priority was how to move upstairs into the private room to hide the woman from the others outside.

“I see you’re busy, Mom,” Trixy said as she appeared in the door opening as if on cue. “Can you bring us some warm coffee? It’s rather chilly outside.”

“Yeah, some fresh coffee would be nice, Cutty,” Donna’s teacher agreed and slapped Donna's cheek hard to get her up and moving.

Donna hurried to make fresh coffee. She was happy it had been Trixy who saw her like this. If it had been Julie or worse, Bridgette…

“As for my fee and all: I ask 1000 per consult, and the amount of classes depends on your performance in real life. Understood?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Donna replied, as her mind raced to calculate how much money she would lose, how much she could lose. She foresaw huge financial problems and knew that was exactly what they were aiming for.  If I don’t act like the perfect whore fast, I’ll be bankrupt in no time!, she thought.

As she made the coffee, her new teacher interrogated her, asking specific questions about her situation. Donna knew she had to explain herself as the slut Ms. Brendan wanted her to become. The slut that would love to sell herself as a whore, to make money by doing what she loved doing most. And so she answered every question accordingly.

“Whoring is much more than just kinky fucking, you’ll see.” The woman finally remarked “Reality is always different than fantasy. But you’ll find out how hard whoring can be, Cutty, you’ll find out…”

With that, she waved Donna away to bring the others outside their coffee. Donna saw the sad glaze on the harsh woman as she had said the last sentence, and understood this woman had endured many rough times, and probably still would many more.

As Donna opened the glass door to the patio, the cold wind engulfed her and made her shiver. The group fell silent as they watched her come outside and Donna immediately turned red. Even though she had steeled herself, it was still too embarrassing for Donna to be this open in front of her daughters and friends.  And the cold air, especially on her vagina, made her feel so much more exposed. Not to mention the demeaning looks that Julie and Bridgette gave her.  She mustered all her strength to walk up to the gathering.

Silently, the group watched her as she poured the warm coffee for everyone. Donna didn’t dare to look at anyone for fear of provoking a crude remark. The group kept quiet as if they were discussing something that Donna shouldn’t hear. She felt their eyes on her as they observed her intently. From the smiles of her psychiatrist and Trixy, she felt that somehow she had confirmed whatever they had discussed.

As she moved around, Donna started to fear her neighbors’s looks too. The patio was partly enclosed by a thin wooden fence, but the neighbors at the back of her house had a clear view of her prancing around half naked. She didn’t dare to look to see if they were looking but when she finally did glance around she thought she noticed several faces in nearby windows looking at her and the group.

Donna felt relieved when she finally could go back to the false safety of her own house, away from prying eyes. As she closed the glass door, the conversation outside picked up again and she understood from the noise their conversation could be heard by her neighbors as well.  They were speakng so loudly as they continued their heated discussion. They didn’t seem to care about the neighbors at all!

And then it hit her: her neighbors had seen her!! And they were hearing her story from the group outside!! How was she ever going to deal with the consequences? They would start talking; word would spread around. People would start to treat her differently, avoid her.  Donna started to cry out of sheer anxiety as her mind flooded with the new problems her neighbors could cause. Only when she arrived into the kitchen was she brought back to her present predicament.

“That took way too long, Cutty,” her teacher remarked. “And stop crying. It doesn’t suit a whore.”

The teacher got up. “Show me around the house.”

Donna knew better than to complain and guided her new teacher through the house. Totally embarrassed, she guided her into the living room. In plain view of the people sitting outside, the new woman went through all of Donna's things, even through all the drawers, and asking specific detail with respect to her family pictures. “That is so I know exactly who I work with,” she explained. But Donna grew suspicious she had alternative motives when she obviously checked out the more expensive items and asked about her jewelry.

“Let’s go outside too,” the woman finally said, making Donna turn a bright red. She had no idea how to handle the current situation. Her teacher waited impatiently for Donna to open the glass doorand when she finally did, she was pushed aside brusquely as the woman walked onto the patio.

“Hello, I’m the new teacher for Cutty.” The woman introduced herself to the surprised group. “Let me see, I know you already, Ninon, and you of course too, Melinda.  How’s the practice coming along?”

“I see you two are the daughters of this whore.” The woman continued without any shame, extending her hand to Donna’s daughters “You both look like her, but much younger and prettier.”

After the courteous handshakes, she looked down on Bridgette. “And who might you be?”

“I’m … a friend,” Bridgette said uncomfortable. “I’m Bridgette…”

“Well, a friend of a whore must be a slut at least,” the woman joked as she shook Bridgette’s hand too.

Donna felt as if her world had caved in on her as she saw this whore insult her daughters and her friend. From the looks from her daughters and Bridgette, she could see they were pretty upset. Her new teacher didn’t care and just looked around the garden. She waved at the two three people who were looking behind their windows to the group sitting outside in the cold.

“Hi there, neighbor!” She said with a big smile. “Snooping in on us?”

She walked up to the high fence to the left of the house where a beat red neighbor shyly smiled back. Donna was just as surprised as the group. Her next door neighbor, Mr Templeton, had been listening in on them. Donna immediately understood the graveness of the situation. Mr Templeton would for sure tell everything to his wife who in turn would tell everyone who would want it to hear. Her life was over!

“Can I speak to you in private about a student of yours?” Ninon asked the teacher calmly as she stood up.

“Of course!” Her teacher replied as she let go of the snooping neighbor. “You just keep on listening, you might learn something.”

Donna, Ninon and the teacher walked inside.

“You go upstairs to your room, Cutty.” Ninon ordered, as she took the teacher by the hand and guided her back into the kitchen.

“Yes, Mrs. Bondain.” Donna was grateful Ninon had saved the situation. She had tactically avoided a confrontation with the neighbor and she was now finally allowed to be out of sight of her daughters and Bridgette.

Not long after that her menace walked into her room. “Sorry to keep you waiting, slut, but you’re not my only student…”

Donna shivered as she imagined the scope of the cult she was trapped in. How many others were there? She only really knew about Rebecca Fowler, the lapdancer. But she just knew there were many, many more.

Her thoughts were immediately interrupted as she was roughly pulled by her hair from the bed and pushed down on her knees in front of her new mistress.

“Let’s begin the lessons, whore.” Her teacher said as she situated herself on bed in front of Donna “We have much to cover. First show me what you can do. Turn around and masturbate yourself. Pretend I’m a client and get me hot.”

Donna turned around and pushed her breasts on the ground until she felt the ribbon knot lift exposing her ass fully. She spread her legs as wide as possible and started to finger herself, actually happy to scratch her itch again.

“The view is good, now the noise, Cutty.”

On cue, Donna started to moan softly.

“No, no, slut, that won’t do.“ The teacher immediately commented. “You need to communicate, not moan.”

“Oooh, I’m so horny!” Donna uttered as her fingers dove into her naked sex. “Ooh, I’m so hot!”

“Better,” Donna’s teacher said. “But go on, let me hear your filthy vocabulary, let yourself go, nympho!”

Donna blocked out all thoughts and focused on her act. Her fingering was no problem; her itches made sure she used both hands to dig into her holes. As for her vocabulary, she had seen enough porn by now to understand what was expected, and she shamelessly started to shout out the same perversions. The more perverted, she got the more her teacher complimented her. Apart from that, she felt an orgasm build and she didn’t fight it. No, she welcomed it, and when it came she shouted it out, knowing she was in the safe soundproof room.

“Very good!!” Her teacher commented as she stood up. “You are one hot bitch. Good material for a whore indeed. But then again, Ms. Brendan always had a keen eye for that.”

Donna breathed happily as she both enjoyed the aftermath of her orgasm and the compliments. Her sopping fingers curled around in her holes, still scratching the ever present itches.

“Now let’s close the door as we don’t need the others to hear all your screaming, right?”

Donna looked up at the open door and understood immediately everyone must have heard her obscenities. What would her daughters think of her now? What would Bridgette think? Donna started to cry in misery.  She just couldn’t comprehend how everything she did turned around to bite her. It didn’t matter if she went along or fought back with all of her heart.

“Don’t cry, slut, you did great.” Her teacher said as she walked back to the bed. “I know now what you’re capable of and, trust me, you’ll make a great hooker. You got the looks, the moves, the stamina. You’re getting wet as only Ms. Brendan’s ‘girlfriends’ can get; you almost sprayed your juices on me! That was a nice distance.”   

Donna knew nothing better to do than to utter a soft “Thank you, Mistress,” as she pushed herself back to the kneeling position in front of her teacher.

“Now here is how we will go about it.  I’ll explain to you how the business works, and you’ll remember everything I say. I’ll ask questions every now and then, and you’ll better know the correct answer. I’ll inform Ninon on how well you’ve been doing and if you don’t do well, she’ll make sure you’ll do better next time.  Apart from the fact that it means more lessons to pay for, understood, cunt?”

Donna nodded, still shaking from her tears, not knowing what else to do.

And thus began her first lesson. It actually surprised Donna that it was much more of a class than she had expected. The woman began by explaing the general way of things. The role of a whore, the role of a pimp, of a madam. She explained the different clients Donna could expect, and their advantages and disadvantages. Donna could tell this woman had done this many times before. Especially because of how she effectively answered all the questions Donna asked.

The only demeaning part was when she was forced to repeat out loud certain ‘laws’ or ‘definitions’ the woman told her. She had to repeat them until her teacher thought she knew them by heart. The woman asked Donna several times during the course to repeat previous rules, which Donna did to the best of her ability. Her mind still had very much difficulty with keeping up due to the lack of sleep, the exhaustion from all her orgasms, and her emotional turmoil.

It was when she was chanting “A whore’s only boundary is the money a client wants to spend” when Ninon opened the door. “We are finished and going into town.” She notified the women.  

Julie and Trixy stood behind her peeping into the room, looking at what was going on.

“Okay, we’ll be finished soon too. I’ll call you to tell how the slut has been doing,” the teacher said. “Tell them goodbye, Cutty.”

“Goodbye, Mrs. Bondain, …”

“And?..”

“Goodby Ms. Julie.  Goodbye Ms. Trixy,” Donna said ashamed as she looked at the three women standing in the door.

“Bye, Mom.” Trixy replied with a smile, although Donna saw she was shocked by the scenery. Julie didn’t utter a word, and just turned and walked off.

“You’ll have one hell of a lot of explaining to do to them, Cutty.” Her teacher laughed as Ninon closed the door. “What a shame for them to have such a cheap slut as their mother.”

Before Donna could break down and cry the woman called Donna to attention again. “We are not finished yet. Keep focused, cunt!”

Two hours later a tired Donna crawled into her car to go to work. Her cumm stained papers in the back seat of her car and her mind a complete mess. “But at least I have done all the paper work. I’m on track again with work” She carefully checked how to drive with her high heeled shoes first, and checked that her choker around her neck was as decent as possible. A glance in the mirror convinced her her make up was in order, showing the right image she was going for. The Ben Waa balls and her butt plug were all in order, and she finally drove off to work, away from her obscene life. For a short while at least.