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Previous chapters:
| Two | Three | Four


Caitlyn had already accepted that she wasn’t going to graduate school, but after her gang-rape she realised she wasn’t going to be a stripper, either.

She was going to be a whore. Her destiny was the hole between her legs, and she finally consciously acknowledged that.

Mr Jones helped her with that. He talked with Principal Welks, and had her taken out of two classes a day. She instead spent that time in Mr Jones office – and shortly after she arrived for her “lesson”, there would be a knock on the office door, and one of her fellow students would be allowed in.

These were students that Mr Jones had previously questioned about Caitlyn, and each had expressed an interest in fucking – or raping – her. When they arrived at Mr Jones’ office, they would give Mr Jones a $50 note, and then Mr Jones would invite them to fuck Caitlyn.

Some of the boys who visited the office were people Caitlyn had thought of as friends. She had shared jokes with them, shared secrets with them, shared her aspirations for the future – but now they just pushed her legs apart, and shoved their cocks into her cunt, and she tried to be fun for them to rape until they ejaculated inside her.

Others were boys that Caitlyn hated, who had mocked her and belittled her and bullied her for years. At first she resented them getting to fuck her, and pouted, and tried to avoid pleasing them – but then she realised that all this time they had been *right*, with every cruel name they had called her, with every disparaging comment they had made. They had been trying to dominate her, exactly as she now realised she enjoyed being dominated, and in a fairer world she would have let them rape her long ago.

Mr Jones actively encouraged her clients – friends and enemies alike – to treat her like a sex object. He suggested they try slapping her, and being rough with her. He encouraged them to call her “cunt” and “bitch” and spit on her and make her cry. She loved Mr Jones for this, because the more degrading the sex was, the more it felt *right*, like something she deserved, and when she discovered that students were starting to call her “cunt” and “bitch” in the school yard, or in classes, it felt a little horrifying, but also very satisfying. Ken Styles slapped her across the face right in the middle of the school courtyard, and no one did anything about it other than laugh. Even her teacher Mr Ford got in on it, calling her “Cuntlyn” when he wanted to address her, and failing her on a test because she wrote her name on it as “Caitlyn” instead of “Cuntlyn”.

She fucked Mr Jones, of course, too, at least once a day. She even told him she loved him – and Mr Jones just replied, “Good girl.”

She knew he didn’t love her. She didn’t deserve love. But if she was lucky, she would have his attention, and he would tell her what to do, and help her be a good whore. She knew he had started to fantasise about another girl at school – pretty blonde Hannah, in the same grade as her – and when he told her he wanted to call her “Hannah” as he fucked her, it hurt a little, but she also felt proud, because in the end it was her cunt he was actually cumming in, not Hannah’s, and he still told her she was a good cunt when he was done.

Some of the clients Mr Jones arranged for her were girls – not many, but enough for Caitlyn to discover that she could cum just as hard from being raped by a girl as by a boy. Maybe even harder, because she had been raised with some taboos about lesbianism, and licking a girl’s pussy felt even more slutty and sinful than having a cock in her pussy.

On one afternoon near the end of the year she was sent to the principal’s office, and discovered Ms Eldham there, naked and blushing. The principal told her he wanted to see Caitlyn and Ms Eldham lick each other’s pussies, and Caitlyn obediently began to kiss and stroke her teacher’s mature body, guiding her down to the carpet where they could 69 each other for Principal Welks’ pleasure.

She moved out of home before the end of the year. She didn’t need her parents complaining about her failure to graduate. Mr Jones wouldn’t allow her in his home, but he had set up a dog cage for her in a neglected storeroom attached to the gym, and Caitlyn spent the final nights of her school year naked and caged, idly rubbing her pussy and looking forward to her new life as a whore.

She did attend graduation – nude, tucked under the podium that Principal Welks stood at to announced the names of each graduating student, sucking on his cock as he spoke to the parents of all her classmates. Each student who had fucked her during the year received a nude photo of her, dripping with Mr Jones’ cum, along with their graduation certificate.

When it was done, Mr Jones drove her straight to hospital. He told her that she wouldn’t want her parents coming to try and take her home once she started work in a brothel, so she was going to sign some paperwork to legally change her name to “Cuntlyn Fucktoy”. She was going to have plastic surgery to enlarge her tits, so she would look different, and dye her hair blonde.  

“I can’t afford plastic surgery,” she protested.

“You’ve made a fair bit of money in the last few weeks by fucking your classmates,” said Mr Jones. “And the doctors have agreed to a substantial discount, on the basis that I’ve given them permission to fuck you while you’re unconscious with the anaesthetic, and again after you regain consciousness.”

She moaned with fear – but Mr Jones responded by saying, “Be a good cunt and suck my cock while I drive,” and that was all Caitlyn needed to hear. She wanted to obey. She wanted to be a good cunt. 

Mr Jones had given her such good guidance. He had known what she really needed, and what her true destiny was. 

She only wished that all girls could have such a good guidance counsellor.


This is the last chapter of The Guidance Counsellor – but if you enjoyed it, please support its creation with a purchase from the All These Roadworks shop! I have lots of great erotic e-books at low prices, and your purchases allow me to keep writing and creating! (Click here to view the store.)


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