Thread: Keep telling yourself, "It's for the money"... (PsionicCuttlefish & Zero_Kyrael)

RE Keep telling yourself, It's for the money... PsionicCuttlefish ... Heh, that was cute how she was blushing just at being checked out by me...oh girl, just you wait. I'll give you a reason to blush, I'll fuck it right out of you. At my terse comments, she seemed a bit indignant for a split second, her brow wrinkled and her posture seemed ruffled. Oh, she was certainly going to be a delicious one. Within the walls of my home, I'd be stripping her of all her dignity and showing her how little it means. But she was quick to get out the papers I asked for--oh hey, she had glasses. That was kinda cute. I'd think about what to do about them later, though. For now, I took the papers she put in my hand and started going over them. Tabytha, huh? Cute name... I mused aloud, not bothering to introduce myself as I ignored her and read the birth certificate, noting that she was twenty-five, almost twenty-six--I raised an eyebrow. Today was the third of November, her birthday was this month? This chick was really giving herself to me during the month of her own birthday? Oh, this was precious ...maybe I'll think of something 'special' for then. But, cross that bridge when we get to it. Still studiously keeping my eyes on her papers and ignoring her as I flipped through them, I reviewed her medical report. Beautiful, she was in near-perfect health, not a malady to her, completely 'whole'...except for a footnote about her back. Ah, must have been hard carrying around those guns of hers, and I was only gonna make that 'worse'...well, I had ways of keeping her in good health, even her back once I start molding her as I see fit. The emphasis on 'wholeness' in her medical report was slightly odd, surely they didn't mean...ah, no matter now. I finally shuffled the papers back together and looked up to Tabytha. So, Tabby , looks like everything's in order. You're certainly qualified enough to serve me... I said, emphasizing how I said the abbreviation of her name--I was going to call her what I want, whether she liked it or not. And at mentioning her being 'qualified', I made a point to again shamelessly stare directly at her breasts and not her face. Still there was just...something about her. Was she really ready for this? Well, she must have read the ad, so surely she knew what's in store for her. Still...I wanted it to be clear, absolutely clear, that it was her choice to come to me. Surreptitiously, with one of my hands behind the door and out of her sight, I flipped a switch on the door's intercom to 'record' mode. Let's be clear on this, Tabby. I said, lifting my chin up a fraction in natural superiority, while I spoke in a strong, enunciated voice. You come into my home, and I'm going to do a lot of shit to you. Some of it's not gonna be nice. I will teach you how to be a good submissive slave for me. You walk across this threshold, I pointed down at my doorstep for emphasis. your ass is mine . You get no say in anything, and I do what I want. You can leave any time you wish, but if you do before thirty days are up, you forfeit the thirty-grand payment at the end. With my intercom, her answer would be on-record. Even if I wasn't actually worried about her, it was mostly just insurance against her running out my door, crying and screaming Rape! or some shit like that. Verbal contracts were valid, and as my daddy taught me, keep everything on record if not in writing. Take no chances, cover all angles. I stepped aside and put my back against my open door, with one arm sweeping 'welcomingly' into my house, and the other holding out the papers in her direction if she chose to take them and turn around. So, with that in mind. I say, looking at her from beneath my bangs. You in, or out? I held my breath slightly. Please be in, you hot piece of ass , I thought to myself. I wanna fuck you and play with those gorgeous titties...