A Few Days in Fucktoy School: Chapter III (repost with correct tags) [FM-sorta] [line writing] [Freeuse] [D/S][Schoolgirl outfit][bdsm]

“I’m a simple fucktoy and nothing more.”

“I’m a simple fucktoy and nothing more.”

“I’m a simple fucktoy and nothing more.”

Hundreds of students in various states of undress depending on their status in the school, wrote that over and over and over again during lunch hour. There was a great hall with hundreds of chalkboards in it, and the students wrote that to reinforce it in the brain.

“This shouldn’t just be your calling,” the head mistress screamed. “This should be your religion.” God I loved those beautiful plump lipstick lips of hers, Cindy (the 23rd one), thought as she scrawled over and over again.

“You love your owner, be they a man or woman, and devote your entire mind, body, and soul to that person.” The Headmistress was the one who I delegated most tasks too, as I had the much more important job of keeping all the head teachers in line. I mean, can you imagine the all the estrogen and testosterone in this school? It’s amazing people aren’t fighting as much as they’re fucking. Well, not nearly as much.

That’s why the head mistress, my good little girl bottom bitch, is such a fantastic choice for a lot of these other boring tasks. So she’s the one who make all the regulated announcements, rules, prayers, punishments, and things like that. Or just livens up the place with her gorgeous personality.

“You are some of the most worthless little bitches I’ve ever laid eyes on, especially the ones that haven’t fucked the janitor yet. Keep writing and if you meet your quota, we’ll get to eat today.”

9683, who used to be an Ivy League graduate about to go on to a bright future at one of the top law firms in the country, hated the head mistress however, and as she touched the chalk to the board, on her knees alongside hundreds of others, hundreds of sticks of chalk touching hundreds of boards in the same motion, hundreds of glassy eyed stares, was so happy that lunch announcements were over. She knew that there would be some degrading things said to her when she decided to forgo law school on a lark to enroll here, but the head mistress was really, really mean.

I guess I’d be that mean too if I was some old hag that had to wrangle hundreds of prettier girls, she thought. Now that lunch announcements were over, she could zone out, listen to the sounds of the echos of all the writing, and focus on the words.

“I’m a simple fucktoy and nothing more.”

That was all she wanted to be. Much like Cooper Union, our school is free, for anyone who can get in, but very few can. 9683 had a bright future, but not a happy one, and now here she is, on her knees, in front of a chalk board, in this skimpy little joke of a schoolgirl uniform, concentrating on that one line. It had been a big risk, throwing away the dream of being a lawyer she had worked so hard for, and she was so thrilled it was paying off into the life she wanted. Previously she thought her life would be filled with cases and suits and contracts with hundreds of thousands of words. And alcoholism. And stress. And an early grave.

But she didn’t have to concentrate on stress or liquor or hundreds of thousands of lines of legaleese, all she had to do was keep her mind on those seven words, and write them in as pretty and feminine a hand as possible.

“I’m a simple fucktoy and nothing more.”

One of the hardest things in the world many students, not all students but students in this school, deal with is flashbacks. You think back to something you don’t want to remember, that you are running from, that you would desperately try to not think about. That’s a flashback. And fucktoys can’t get flashbacks. Fucktoys need to stay present.

“I’m a simple fucktoy and nothing more.”

9683 wrote the final line, and a smiley face appeared on the touch screen next to the chalk board, and a veiny blue rubber dildo popped out from its hole in the wall.

Finally, she thought. Lunch. And she went to work sucking her meal out of the big fake fake cock, swirling her tongue around the head and working on the balls. If you did that you could squeeze out extra.

Yum, she thought. Strawberry today.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/lwj71z/a_few_days_in_fucktoy_school_chapter_iii_repost

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