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Courtney's Boring Life

31900 words

Style: Male Dom - M/F, Sex Slavery / Training

Courtney is barely twenty and life already bores her. She has little ambition or education, and when not at her dull midnight job hangs around with other young, bored people like herself, doing mostly boring things.During a late evening foray she drinks more than she ought to, and lets a few of the guys in the group do more than they ought to. From then on everyone begins to treat her like a slut, and Courtney finds she LIKES being treated like a slut. Some dark side of her likes the guys groping and abusing her, likes being used however they want, even likes being "forced". When they do it to her at work, though, she is caught on camera and winds up downtown before the company boss. Instead of being fired, though, he has other uses for a lovely young girl with a submissive mindset and little ambition in life, and she leaves his office naked and in a cage, shipped to his penthouse to be trained as a sex slave. Courtney is simultaneously appalled and excited by it all, horribly embarrassed, and indignant at the way she is treated, and yet thrilled and aroused at the same time. At least her life is no longer boring!

Price:  $8.00

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EXCERPT

Security had never really crossed Courtney's mind at work. She knew there was an alarm on the doors, and that she had to turn it off every time she opened them. But there were no visible cameras and she hadn't even considered the possibility.
So it was with some trepidation that she found herself on the bus the next morning, heading for a downtown office where her manager had directed her. He had sounded odd, in the message she had found on her phone. And he had said there had been “security incidents” at the building the past week and that she had to go and see the owner. She was anxious, thinking that either the guys had stolen some things when they'd been with her, or that the owner wondered at why the alarm had been turned off and on a number of times.
If it was the latter she would plead that she'd gone outside to smoke. If stuff was missing all she could do was plead ignorance.
The office was nothing like the place she worked. This was a tall, first class building with marble floors in the lobby and security at the door. She rode up in a gleaming, glass-walled elevator, walked down a wide hall with a deep carpet her heels sunk into, and wound up in a large office with a middle aged woman sitting behind a desk.
The woman looked up at her over her glasses. “Yes?”
“Uhm, I'm Courtney Stevens,” she said hesitantly.
The woman continued to look at her and Courtney flushed.
“And?” she said.
“I uhm, my manager told me to come and see a Mr... Masters?”
“Is that a question?”
“Huh?”
The woman made a face and stood up, then went to an inner door, knocked, and opened it enough to lean inside. “A Courtney Stevens,” she said.
Courtney didn't hear the reply but the woman opened the door wider and turned to her, motioning her forward. Courtney licked her lips nervously then walked past her into the inner office.
She had thought the managers office at work was nice, but this was in another league altogether. Everything was so rich and beautiful! The carpet was even thicker, and the walls were oak paneled when not covered in large bookcases. Smith's desk was an enormous, gleaming antique. There was a bar in one corner, and a leather sofa with chairs and coffee table next to it. It was a corner office, and two entire walls were glass, giving an incredible view of the city forty stories below.
She was impressed, and frightened. What in Gods name would a man like this want with her?!
The man behind the desk was wearing a dark blue suit, a “fancy” one if Courtney was any judge of things, not that she really was, she acknowledged. He was perhaps in his late forties, but trimly built, with broad shoulders. He had was a good looking man, for someone his age, with a short, neatly trimmed goatee and mustache. His hair was brown and combed neatly back, and his eyes were deep-set and dark as he examined her.
“Stand straight,” he said, his voice soft but very very … firm.
Courtney swallowed and almost reflexively obeyed, for it was a voice which carried the tone of command with it. Almost at once she felt a sense of resentment, though. Who the fuck was this guy to talk to her like that?
He got up and came around the desk. He was of medium height, but moved easily as he walked over to stand before her. She looked up at him, starting to let her annoyance appear on her face.
“There are two things we have to talk about, you and I,” he said, “Or maybe three.”
He gestured and the woman withdrew, closing the door. Masters moved to the bookcase, where there was a large screen TV and turned it on. He picked up a remote control unit and turned back to her.
“First, we're missing a number of chips from the northeast office.”
“Chips? “she asked wonderingly.
“Computer chips. Central Processing Units, the tiny chips which form the nucleus of computers. Quite a few went missing from the northeast office three days ago, then again yesterday.”
Courtney felt a slow flush creeping up her her collar and began to sweat.
Those bastards, probably Nick! He'd stolen shit and she was going to get fired!
“We haven't called the police yet,” he said. “What we did, of course, was to examine security logs and footage.”
Security.. .what, she wondered with a sudden chill.
On screen she saw the view of the lobby from a camera mounted in the roof pointed at the door and through it to the porch. She felt the breath leave her as she saw a video of herself naked, sucking Nick's cock. She began to tremble as Masters fast forwarded to the point she was being sodomized against the wall. Her face was burning red and she actually felt faint. For there was sound, as well, though faint, coming to the microphone through the door. Still, she could hear herself gasping and moaning and crying out in pleasure.
She couldn't speak, couldn't think, couldn't move, and Masters pressed a button, and the scene shifted to the warehouse, another camera high up, showing her run into the room naked, Tony catch her, kissing and groping her, strapping her arms behind her back.
She turned and ran for the door, grasping the handle and tugging frantically. But it wouldn't move, and after a moment, Masters turned off the TV and went back behind his desk, sitting down.
She turned at bay, back to the door, staring at him with wide eyes, ready to burst into tears of humiliation.
“I have a proposition to make,” he said. “Come back here and stand in front of the desk.”
She didn't move, trembling, still trying to turn the handle.
“Now,” he barked, his open hand slapping heavily against the desk.
Startled, she jumped, and then, mortified, she moved back to stand in front of the desk, head bowed low, eyes blinking back tears.
“I could call the police,” he said. “Show them the videos, and have them interrogate you to find out who stole thousands of dollars worth of our chips, then fire you and press charges.”
“But I didn't – !”
His hand hit the desk again with a sound that made her jump.
“Be silent,” he said coldly.
He sat back in his chair and looked at her, and she dropped her eyes again.
“Humility. That's good. You have much to be ashamed of.”
She flushed again, this time with resentment.
“You are an indifferent employee who has called in sick enough times you are the edge of being terminated regardless of this incident. You have no education to speak of, no real skill set and no evident desire to learn. On the other hand, you are quite attractive, and clearly a whore. That combination can be of some use to me.”
Her resentment stirred higher and she raised her head enough to glower at him sullenly, then dropped it again quickly.
“You currently earn $532 per week, gross. That's about $400 net. Which, frankly, is a lot more than you're worth. I have an interest in placing you in another position, however.”
He smiled lightly. “Which would require some training. During the training period you would net $1000 per week, and thereafter your pay would double.”
Courtney was, to say the least, confused. He wanted to double her salary? No, he wanted to more than double it, and then double it again?!
She raised her eyes a little, eying him warily. She was not stupid. There was no reason for him to pay her that much money based on her qualifications, especially given what she'd done. Other than sex, of course, and he'd made that somewhat clear calling her a whore and saying she was attractive.
She could buy a car with that kind of money! She could even get a nice apartment!
Could she fuck the old guy for that much? Shit, why not!? She'd fucked those three bastards for nothing!
And she wouldn't even have to stay up all night!
“Are you interested?”
“I uhm, I guess so,” she said, her voice feeble, still horribly embarrassed.
“Take off your clothes.”
Her head came up and she gaped at him.
“One of the most important things for you to learn during training is obedience,” he said, “instant obedience.”
“But...” She looked behind her at the closed door, and then out at the huge expanse of glass walls.
“If you accept this position it will require immediate obedience to orders, any orders whatsoever, given to you by me or anyone else I direct. Are you interested?”
“Well... yeah but – .”
His hand cracked against the desk again, making her jump.
“Then remove your clothing and stand straight.”
Her mind spun. She didn't know what to do. On the other hand, a rich guy like this, he could pay her a lot and never miss it, and she'd already humiliated herself in front of him with the videos. And what if he called the cops on her!?
Blushing furiously, she removed her top, then undid her skirt and pushed it down. Standing in her high heels and lingerie, she felt a sudden surprising sense of heat in her lower belly, and an accompanying breathlessness she knew too well. She undid her bra, face still hot, then stepped out of her shoes and slid her thong down and off.
At first she held her hand over her groin and her arm over her breasts, but Masters stood up and ordered her to clasp her hands together behind her back, then walked over to examine her.
“Chest out,” he ordered.
She obeyed, flushed from her chest up, and he walked slowly around her.
“You have an excellent young body,” he said, “And quite a pretty face. Your hair is nice, as well, though cheaply cut.”
He fingered it and let it drop and she felt another surge of anger.
“Bend over and grasp your ankles,” he ordered.
She gasped, and hesitated and saw the ice come into his eyes.
“Instant obedience,” he snapped.
Gulping, she did as he ordered, and her embarrassment became much worse as he the moved around behind her. She cringed as she saw him standing there examining her from behind.
“Keep your legs straight, slut,” he ordered.
She bridled at the word but did her best to obey as he walked back around her.
“Straighten up.”
She obeyed, standing straight, shoulders back, as before.
“In all of the instances of sex witnessed your wrists were bound or cuffed,” he said. “And while there is no camera in the office where your two young friends made use of you, it was clear from the sounds being made that you were spanked or strapped in some way. Was it a strap?”
She cringed again, dropping her eyes low.
“Answer when you're posed a question,” he said, his voice hard.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“The word you will use is yes, master.”
She jerked her head up at that, jaw dropping. Was he serious?!
“Answer the question.”
“Uhm, yes... master,” she said, blushing.
“His belt, I suppose.”
“Yes... master,” she gulped.
Her pussy began to throb anew for some reason.
“And from the sounds you made thereafter I can assume that bondage and punishment are enjoyable to you.”
“I don't... I mean... it's not like I liked him hitting me with the belt,” she said in a soft voice.
“Sometimes pain is how you teach a child how to behave,” he said.
He bent and examined her shoe for some reason, then walked to the door and opened it enough to lean out. She cringed, fearing the woman would come in, but he closed the door and returned to her after a moment.
“Your body is a very valuable commodity which you are at present neglecting. You are young and so your body is in reasonable shape, but it's soft and as you get a little older will probably go to fat, given your lack of discipline. Further, you're giving away the only thing you've got of value to those squalid little boys who stole from my warehouse, and all you're getting back from them is laughter and mockery. Tell me if I'm wrong.”
She shrugged helplessly.
There was a knock at the door and she gasped, trying to cover herself with her arms.
“Stand straight,” he growled.
“But...”
She resumed her former position anxiously, and he walked back to the door, opening it enough to take a large box, then closing it again behind him. He carried the box over to the desk and set it down, then opened it and took a pair of black leather shoes out and handed them to her.
“Put these on.”
The shoes were sexy looking, but had very high, stiletto heels. She slipped her feet into them, surprised at how easily they fit, and slipped the straps around her ankles before standing up uneasily. She was a little wobbly on them, for she'd never worn heels this high before. With her being naked she would have thought that would have been embarrassing enough, but now she was embarrassed anew by her clumsiness and lack of sophistication. Masters was clearly a rich, and thus to her mind, sophisticated older man.
“You walk with all the grace of a cow,” he said.
She flushed. “You try walking on these!”
He looked at her, and she dropped her eyes. “If the carpet wasn't so thick I could – .”
He took something out of the box and walked over to her.
“Open your mouth,” he ordered.
“What?”
He held up a round black ball with straps on either side, and pressed it against her mouth.
“Wha-!”
“Open your mouth,” he barked coldly.
She dropped her hands and opened her mouth and the ball, which was a little spongy, squeezed in through her teeth to fill her mouth and press her tongue down. The straps cut into the sides of her mouth and went behind her head, then fastened together some way.
“The first lesson a slave girl learns,” he said. “Is to not speak unless spoken to, or unless given permission. No one wants to hear your brainless prattle, nor your endless whining and sniveling.”
She glared at him indignantly, or rather, at the back of his head as he walked back to the desk. He motioned her over and she walked slowly and carefully to stand before him.
“Hold out your hands.”
What had he said? Slave girl? She was startled by the words, and yet her pussy thrummed with sudden interest. Slave girl? What the hell kind of kinky weirdo was he anyway?
She held out her hands though, and he wrapped softly padded leather bands around each of them. They locked together, and were unadorned save for stainless steel rings set into the sides.
“Sit,” he said, pointing at the chair.
She sat down gratefully, and he knelt before her, taking each of her feet in turn and wrapping matching leather bands around her ankles just above where the shoes were strapped.
He stood up and nodded, then motioned her to stand. She did so awkwardly, and he took out another leather band, this one a lot bigger. She stared at it and her heart skipped a beat, then she felt a sudden sense of breathlessness as he slipped it around her throat and fastened it behind her.
A collar!
Ohmygod this is kinky, she thought dazedly.
Her lower belly felt moist and heavy and she suddenly wanted something stiff and hard inside her.
Courtney found that her chest was rising and falling all-too quickly, and had trouble controlling her breathing as the heat within her grew. She was unaccountably nervous and anxious, as well. Then again, she was naked, completely naked in a large, open office in front of a stranger whose first name she didn’t even know! Why on earth was she here!? Why hadn’t she just run out - aside from the door being locked, of course, she thought.
Every time she thought about protesting, though, she thought of the money he had promised, and thought of her alternatives, which was unemployment and a humiliating visit from the police. And why shouldn’t she let this old guy fuck her for money anyway? He wasn’t bad looking, and she’d already let herself be fucked pretty hard, pretty roughly, by three guys she really didn’t even like all that much. Why not make something out of it?
Because that would make her a whore? Well, people were already calling her a whore, so what the fuck did that matter?
Masters skimmed his fingers along the sides of her head, brushing her bangs out, and then turned and walked towards a door in one wall.
“Come here, slave,” he said.
Slave?! God! Was he crazy?
But she followed him, carefully walking on the deep carpet. She was relieved in fact, when he opened the door of what looked like some kind of walk-in closet and she saw there was no carpet there, just hardwood.
It was a closet, and one that had been made into a walk-in clothes closet, with shelves on either side. At the rear was a full length mirror, and he had her stand before it and look at herself.
She looked -- awesome! The thick leather collar around her throat, the matching wrist bands, the high sexy heels, the lewd ball gag protruding from her mouth,, she looked amazingly sexy! She stared at herself and felt her pussy thrumming, felt a sense of hot, squirming lust seeping through her veins. I am so hot, she thought delightedly, smugly.
“Put your hands behind your head, slave” he ordered.
She drew her arms up and back behind her head, arching her back, posing for herself, and gasped a bit as he gripped her slender wrists and drew them back harder, down towards the back of her neck. There he clipped the restraints to the ring set into the back of her collar to lock her arms in place, then gripped her hair almost delicately, pulling back, forcing her to arch more.
He slid his other hand up and down her body, over her breasts, caressing her soft flesh, rolling and lightly pinching her stiff, hard nipples. She moaned as his hand slid down her fluttering belly and between her legs, her hips jerking backward at first due to the intensity of the sensations his touch brought her. But then she pressed herself forward, moaning breathlessly as he rubbed his fingers lightly along her slit and over her clit.
“You need something hard inside you, don’t you, slave girl,” he whispered.
Oh God, did she!
She moaned, squirming against him, her nipples tingling with excitement, her pussy burning around his fingers as he rubbed softly, gently - too gently.
But when she would grind harder against him he drew his hand back.
“No, sex slave, I decide how much pleasure you get, not you. I also decide how much pain you receive as punishment for your failings.”
The word “punishment” had an ominous tinge to it but she didn’t care, gasping excitedly as he cupped one of her taut breasts and rubbed the nipple.
He gripped her upper arm and led her, awkwardly, back along the narrow closet and out into the big outer office. She moaned again, her pussy burning, sopping wet, wanting him inside her, but he simply led her back into the center of the room again and then released her arm as she stood, trembling, before his desk.
He smiled thinly, then pulled something from the box that widened Courtney’s eyes. It was -- a dildo. It wasn’t one of those realistic ones, though. This one was not perfectly round. It was a bit more oval. It was black, with a latex surface, and it was covered with oddly shaped little bumps, some tiny, like pimples, some like little marbles. It was quite thick, and quite long.
“I want you to bend over against the desk until your elbows lay just atop it,” he said. “Spread your legs wide and keep them straight.”
Courtney hesitated, and he slapped her bottom sharply. “Obey your master, slave.”
She winced, then bent forward, her head starting to reel again as she exposed herself even more lewdly. She bent over at the waist, long legs spread, until her elbows rested on the top of the desk. Her breasts hung down below her and her pussy pulsed with need. She could feel the cool air of the vent brushing against her soaking wet pussy mouth as she panted helplessly.
“What a soaking wet cunt you have,” he said casually. “You must be a horny little slut to have such a wet pussy.”
Her face flushed with embarrassment, but she soon forgot it as he pressed the thing against her there, then slowly rubbed it up and down against her burning pussy. She shuddered at the sensations, her hips grinding back unconsciously.
“The sex slave wants a cock inside her,” he said, making her mind twist and roll.
Then she felt the increased pressure against her, felt the thing slowly forcing the swollen lips of her sex in and back - and back - and back wider and wider, and then she groaned in pleasure as the thing began to penetrate her.
Oh God! Oh God! Oh God, she thought. Ohmygod!
She felt the mouth of her sex stretched achingly wide as the thing slowly pushed into her body, gasped as he twisted it around, eased it back, then thrust it deeper. Her pussy felt as though it were melting under the scalding heat as he slowly sank the thing deeper and deeper into her belly. The deeper it pushed the more incredible she felt, and even when it was so deep it ached, when the head of the thing was jammed against what felt like the deepest part of her pussy, she still longed for more, wanted him to jam it deeper.
She felt her entire pussy squeezing down around it, felt the solidity of the thing so deep within her lower belly, and shuddered as his fingers brushed lightly across her pussy lips but avoided touching her clit.
He gripped her collar and stood her upright, and she swayed weakly, groaning, wide eyed, sweating despite the air conditioning. She tried to look down, to see just how much of it was inside her and how much was still to go, but he yanked back on her collar.
“No, slave. You keep your back arched, your head back. It’s time for your punishment, you see.”
Courtney’s eyes fluttered breathlessly. What? What had he said? Punishment?
“After all, it would hardly do to simply reward you with a better paying position after you abused the trust my company put in you to let those thieving young men come in and rob us,” he said. “Not to mention fucking on the job - before fucking was your job. Oh no, slave girls need to be properly disciplined so that their training might progress.”
He produced a very thin flexible rod of some kind, black, leatherish. It was very, very thin and light, and about a foot and a half in length.
“Into the corner, slave,” he said.
She looked around uncertainly, and he pointed towards the far corner, where the two glass walls met. She turned to look at him and he scowled. “Never look your mater in the eye, slave. Always keep your eyes down. Humility is your watchword.”
He gripped her collar and started her towards the corner and Courtney walked carefully over there, anxious because of how exposed she was to anyone looking. True, they were up high and no other tall buildings were near. But if someone in one of the nearby buildings had, say, binoculars, or say a telescope, he’d be able to see her pretty darn clearly!
She kin of forgot that, though, as she moved. The dildo thing was sticking out of her, and it was rubbing against her pussy lips and her thighs as she walked in a most - delicious - way.
“Further,” he said, pushing her until she was right in the corner, blinking in the bright sunlight.
“Keep that back arched, those breasts thrust out firmly,” he ordered.
She pulled her arms back a little, becoming aware now of a problem with the ball gag. Her mouth was filling with saliva and while she could swallow some of it she felt as though it was going to leak out around the ball.
Then she forgot that as his hand cupped the dildo, as it pressed against his palm, and the rest of his hand came up against her. She shuddered, her bottom grinding back against him with no conscious thought from her, then yelped in pain as he gave the dildo a hard little shove. It was already as deep as it could get, and so this simply jammed the nose against the bottom of her pussy.
“Legs apart, but not far apart,” he said, and push that lovely bottom of yours out for its punishment.”
She moaned around the gag, but obeyed, her pussy spasming weakly around the dildo.
He moved to stand to one side, though still behind her, and raised the thin rod. Courtney braced herself, swallowing repeatedly, then yelped into the gag as it whipped down across her bottom.
She felt a surge of relief, though. It was so light and thin it only stung a little.
She held her position, feeling the sex heat flaring around her at how nasty and wicked this was, wincing at the next blow, and the next, and the next. The blows came carefully, slowly, and stung more than the first few, but she was easily able to bear it. Her buttocks began to redden, though, becoming more and more sensitive to the fresh blows so that the pain began to mount.
He was using his right hand to hit her. Now his left came up and slid between her legs. His fingers deftly stroked across her clitoris and Courtney grunted as it punched, her head whipping back, her hips grinding forward. His fingers slid down and gripped the dildo, kind of jamming it up a little, forcing the nose against he back wall of her pussy in steady, repetitive little grinding motions that made her legs go rubbery.
He continued to bring the thing, whatever it was, down onto her hot, and getting hotter bottom, though, but while the pain grew worse her mind was saturated by sexual heat and her body enveloped in lust and want. She moaned dazedly into the gag as he forced pleasure and pain to twist and roil within her. Yet it was the pleasure which easily won out.
She stared out at the city, at the other buildings, at the cars and trucks going by below, and shuddered as the blows made her bottom flare with pain.
He paused and slowly slid the dildo down out of her - halfway - before sliding it back up inside. She cried out weakly, forced up onto her toes by the raging heat within her, sinking slowly down to her heels only as he slid the dildo back down out of her.
“Sex slave,” he whispered into her ear.
She groaned as the dildo jammed up deep within her.
Then the quirt snapped across her out-thrust buttocks.
“What are you?” he demanded, his voice a low growl. “What are you?”
“A sex slave!” she moaned breathlessly into the gag.
The words were heavily muffled and distorted, but seemed to satisfy him as he ground the dildo into her once more, softly, insistently, then let his thumb gently brush across her quivering, swollen clit.
The quirt snapped across her bottom again.
“What are you?”
“A sex slave!” she moaned.

CUSTOMER REVIEWS

Good but not one of his best

4/5- JBC

Argus is consistently one of the best erotic writers around, so even a mediocre book for him (which this is) has to get 5 stars from me. But if you're new to Argus, try a different title first, like "Doctor of Pain" or "The Racist."

5/5

Starts out a little slow. Develops into a good story overall, but because the first few chapters start slow the last several seems rushed. Have seen better in his work; he just needed to spend a little more time developing it more smoothly and more deeply. Some additional development during the meat of the story would have added a lot.

3/5- clanlover

hep on the right track just didn't go the "explode" in me

3/5- possum

This book is ok. Not overly erotic

3/5- Chicago


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