Story: Sluts in Training

Rachael heard about GirlDesk through her friends – an easy way for young women to make money.

At 19, Rachael was fairly poor, with a lot of bills and not a lot of work prospects. She was pretty, and buxom, and she had briefly considered starting an OnlyFans like her friend Sarah. But she was worried about having a permanent slutty record on the internet that might hurt her future.

It was Sarah, in fact, who most directly recommended GirlDesk to her.

“It’s weird,” she said, “and it’s a little bit slutty. But it’s safe, and when it’s done it’s done – no will know – and it pays so well.”

So she applied for a GirlDesk position, and was accepted immediately.

She was inducted on a Tuesday morning by an attractive 30-something redhead named Gloria.

“GirlDesk doesn’t make money,” she said. “It’s all funded by a rich old weird billionaire, because it pleases him for this to exist. The clients pay money to access it, but that doesn’t really pay the costs. The point is that you’re here, taking part in it.”

She helped Rachael remove her skirt and panties, and took her to her work station – a simple office chair, at a desk, behind a clear plastic divider that separated her from the clients. The people who would approach her at the desk wouldn’t be able to see she was naked below the waist.

The office chair had a dildo attached to the centre of the seat, and Rachael had to apply some lubricant to her pussy and lower herself onto it, until it was fully buried in her cunt. Gloria then attached a small clip to Rachael’s clitoris, which hurt a little, but not too much.

Next, a metal collar went on her neck.

“It’s all controlled by AI,” said Gloria. “It can hear what the customers say, and what you say, and evaluate it. So you just have to follow the rules, and you’ll be fine.”

Rachael was by this stage already nervous about the whole thing, but she had been shown how much she would earn per day, and it was far better than any other job Rachael might reasonably have applied for. And Sarah had said it was safe.

“When the customer comes to the window, you have to introduce yourself,” said Gloria. “You need to say, ‘Hi, I’m Rachael, and I’m a dumb cunt.’”

“What?” asked Rachael, taken aback.

“The billionaire who runs this gets off on it,” said Gloria. “It’s the point of the exercise. You say you’re a dumb cunt. Except you have to add an adjective every time. Like, ‘I’m a dumb worthless cunt’, or ‘I’m a dumb whorish cunt’. It has to be something that degrades or insults you. You can’t use the same adjective twice on the same day, so you need to think of new ones. If you don’t say it, or if you re-use an adjective, the collar will shock you.”

Gloria went on to explain the rest of the rules to Rachael – and they were all just as bad. But Rachael was committed now. Gloria explained that Rachael would owe money if she backed out, for wasting the company’s time on training.

Shortly after lunch, Rachael served her first client. A handsome man in business clothes entered the GirlDesk office from the street, and approached Rachael’s desk.

“Hi, I’m Rachael,” said Rachael, “and I’m a dumb bitchy cunt.”

Then she gasped. The dildo had suddenly hummed inside her, stimulating her pussy, as she had said those words. Gloria hadn’t warned her about that!

The man didn’t immediately reply. He was staring at Rachael’s tits.

Rachael felt a moment of fear – and then she squealed. The dildo and the clit clamp had shocked her! Inside her cunt! It hurt!

“Is something wrong?” asked the man.

She knew what was wrong. She had stopped smiling. There was a camera watching her, and if it detected that she wasn’t producing a facial expression that she was in love with the client and sexually attracted to him, it would shock her.

She quickly composed herself into an expression of flirty arousal.

“No, sir,” she said.

He was still looking at her tits – and the dildo shocked her again.

Oh, fuck. She remembered now. If the customer looked at her tits, she had to say…

“Would you like to see my tits, sir?” she asked.

“Yes, please,” he said.

And now she had to do it. She had to actually expose her breasts to this stranger.

She hesitated, and her cunt was shocked again. It hurt! She wanted to cry. She should never have signed up for this. But she had to keep smiling at the client in adoration, or she would be shocked again.

Quickly, she pulled her large tits out of her dress so the customer could see them.

The dildo inside her began to hum again. Was it rewarding her for showing her breasts? Or was it based on the customer’s reaction – the predatory smile on his face when he stared at her tits? Was she being rewarded for provoking his lust?

“Very nice,” said the man. “Anyway, my question was, my girlfriend is kind of a bitch, and she’s not a fan of anal sex. What advice did you have?”

Rachael looked at her computer screen. The AI had heard the question, and was preparing a response. She just had to read it.

“I’m just a stupid girl,” she read, “but I think what you should do is slap her until she cries, and then strip her naked, and then repeatedly rape her ass until she’s too traumatised to ever say no to you about anything ever again.”

“Excellent,” said the man. “That’s a great answer. Even if you are just a dumb bitchy cunt.”

At the words ‘dumb bitchy cunt’, the dildo inside her buzzed even faster. Rachael had to close her mouth quickly to avoid an involuntary moan.

“Thanks for your assistance,” said the man, and turned to leave.

Rachael remembered what she was supposed to say instead of, “Have a nice day.”

“I hope you rape me!” she called out.

And then the man was gone.

===

After that, the customers were an endless stream. Rachael served maybe 50 every day, and she came back every day that week, and the week after.

“Hi, I’m Rachael, and I’m a dumb disgusting cunt.”
“Hi, I’m Rachael, and I’m a dumb big-titted cunt.”
“Hi, I’m Rachael, and I’m a dumb fuckable cunt.”

She learned to look at everyone she spoke to – male or female – as if she desperately wanted to fuck them, no matter what they said to her, no matter how they treated her, and even if her cunt was being shocked as she did it.

She learned to immediately – instinctively – offer to show her tits to anyone who looked at them.

Customer after customer asked weird, horrible questions about sex, and about how to treat women, and Rachael read them answers.

“I’m just a stupid girl, but you have the keys to your tenant’s house, sir, so I don’t see why you can’t go into her bedroom while she sleeps and ejaculate on her face, or piss on her, or even just rape her.”

“I’m just a stupid girl, but your secretary would probably be willing to suck your cock every day if she had to in order to keep her job, given the economy.”

“I’m just a stupid girl, but I think it would be funny if you switched your sister’s birth control with sugar pills.”

And when they left, she said, increasingly as a matter of habit, “I hope you rape me!”

Sometimes the customers took the time to insult Rachael, calling her a whore and a slut. She smiled at them lustfully and thanked them for their feedback.

And she never, ever told them no. Gloria had been clear on that. Whatever a customer asked, you were helpful and agreeable. You said yes. On the one occasion that Rachael told a customer “no” – when he asked for her home address, in a way that left her scared – the shock to her cunt was so powerful and agonising that she started to cry. She never wanted to experience that pain again – and so she would never tell a customer “no” again.

And the dildos hummed within her, whenever she degraded herself, or whenever someone else degraded her, or whenever someone enjoyed looking at her tits.

And somehow the dildos always knew when she was about to cum, and backed off. They never let her orgasm during work hours. By the afternoon she often found herself openly squeezing and rubbing her tits when clients wanted to look at them, and trying to bounce on the dildo in her cunt, desperate to cum. It was pointless though – it seemed to move with her when she bounced, denying her the friction or penetration.

At the end of the day a message would appear on her computer screen: “Would you like to cum?”

Her answer was always yes – but there was a price for cumming.

“Upload an identifiable nude picture of yourself, plus the phone number or email of a man who knows you who you’ve never fucked.”

The implication was clear – the system would send the photo to him.

“OR upload an identifiable nude photo of another woman, along with her name and contact details, without her consent.”

The first time that Rachael gave in to the urge to cum, she removed her shirt and took a nude photo of herself on the chair, and provided the contact details for her father, figuring he might be surprised, but she could explain it later. Her sex-addled mind didn’t bother to consider how she’d explain it. And the orgasm, when it came was amazing.

She did that the next day, and the next day too, but then her father called to ask what it was about, and there was something strange in his voice – concern, but maybe also lust – and it scared Rachael, so she tried to avoid cumming the next few days.

On the weekend she had the chance to “sober up” and she knew that this was unsustainable. So she installed secret cameras in her bathroom, and then invited female friends over for a “fashion night” of trying on and swapping clothes. The footage yielded a good nude photo of each of her friends as they got changed in her bathroom, and over the next week she uploaded these one by one in exchange for satisfying orgasms.

After that, she started installing tiny hidden cameras with mobile internet connections in public toilets and changerooms. They weren’t cheap, but she was making a lot of money at GirlDesk. She was soon in control of a constant flow of illicit nude footage of women. But the problem was that very few of these women were identifiable – she caught their faces, but didn’t know who they were. So she spent time trawling social media for women who lived locally, hoping to find the social media accounts of women whose cunts and tits she had seen long before knowing their names.

But the real effect of her training started to show itself after two weeks, when she was introduced to one of Sarah’s male friends at a social occasion.

“Hi, I’m Rachael,” she said, enthusiastically, “and I’m a dumb slutty cunt!”

Her eyes widened when she realised what she had said – but was worth was her automatic attempt to fight that reaction, to return her face to an expression of flirty lust.

The man just laughed, and asked her what she did for a living.

“I’m just a stupid girl,” she began – and then paused, because there was no computer with an AI answer on it, and without that she suddenly realised she had no idea how to answer him.

But the man’s gaze was moving, downwards.

“Would you like to look at my tits?” she heard herself ask – and then, just like that, she was exposing her boobs, in public, at a party. And the worst bit was that her cunt was now dripping wet.

“Wow,” said the man. “Your friend is a slut.”

“Yeah,” agreed Sarah.

“Hey, dumb cunt,” said the man, talking to Rachael. “Do you want to go somewhere and fuck?”

Rachael wanted to say no. She really, really wanted to say no. But when she thought about saying it, she was filled with the memory of the agonising shock she would receive at work for saying such a thing, to the point that she flinched, and her thighs pressed together in remembered pain.

“Yes,” she heard herself say. “That sounds great.”

And so Rachael soon found herself in a bedroom, naked, bent over the bed as the man – whose name she didn’t even know – vigorously raped her cunt.

Afterwards she smiled, as she had been trained, and thanked him.

“I hope you rape me!” she said as he left, and then, lamely, added, “Again!”

===

It was Rachael’s first rape, but not her last. She ended up sending more nude photos to men she knew, and some of them called her to ask her about them, and so she told them she was a dumb brainless cunt, and when they asked if she wanted to fuck them she said yes.

It turned out even her father wasn’t immune. She knew it was coming the first time she felt him looking at her tits, requiring her to enthusiastically expose her breasts to her own father, and when she said, “I hope you rape me!” as he turned to leave her house, that was too much. He turned back, and soon she was being raped in her own bed by her own father and pretending that it delighted her.

Except the truth was, it did delight her. Her cunt had been trained to wetten for degradation, and this was the ultimate degradation, and she orgasmed three times on her daddy’s cock.

And there was no way out for her.

She tried. She tried to tell a male friend what was happening to her.

“So exactly what is this place GirlDesk doing to you?” he asked her.

“I’m just a stupid girl,” replied Rachael. And then she froze up, with no other answer to give.

A moment later, she added, “Would you like to see my tits?”

===

This is just one of 36 red-hot stories collected in my e-book Sluts in Training – Stories of Educating Slaves and Other Pets, available from the All These Roadwork store right now for only $4.99 USD! By purchasing a copy, you show your appreciation for my writing, and support the creation of more hot new stories in the future. (Click here to view in store.)

===