by John Argus
Gwen came powerfully, gurgling and grunting and moaning into the gag as her body was ripped through by exquisite convulsions.
Chapter 15
Gwen smiled as the bell chimed to end the period. The professor gave a final series of reminders regarding homework and the class gathered up its books, rose, and headed for the door.
She had a new interest in financial matters, and was doing very well in the courses she was taking. In addition she had enrolled in acting classes, and was taking lessons in massage.
Of course, those were just a few of the classes she was taking. She intended to thoroughly familiarise herself with every facet of finance and investments, and then take a few law courses for good measure. Then there were the hair and beauty tips from modelling lessons, more art history, political science, and psychology.
Not all clients were as easy to please as Mr Marx, and she was slowly building a reputation for great style in her role-playing that was making her much in demand amongst London’s hedonistic elite. She did not consider herself a prostitute, though she charged extremely large amounts for every ‘consultation’ with her clients; she did not need the money, after all; her trust fund had been turned over to her on her twenty-first birthday and contained more than enough to keep her in good style for the rest of her life.
What her clients saw in her was obvious; a lovely, uninhibited young woman who let them behave in a manner few other women would.
That she enjoyed it all was something few of them understood. That she was in such a business to please herself would have astonished them. She accepted clients when she chose to, which was dependant upon her own needs and desires.
And those needs and desires were considerable, for what Richardson had awakened in her had shown now sign of fading. She revelled in her own submissiveness. And since men were evidently willing to pay for the honour of dominating her she saw no reason to grant them her favours for free.
She’d never had any idea what she wanted to do with her life, but now thanks to Richardson and, she supposed, her stepfather, she did. She even had plans to open her own agency one day soon. After she had finished all her courses and built up a large enough client base she would recruit a couple of girls she could put through college and have learn massage, art, finance, and all the other subjects needed to please a discerning client.
And she would teach them all those other things discerning clients required and would pay for, and teach them to love it. She had almost every minute of her own training at Richardson’s home on video tape to consult should she need to. And some of it was truly inspired.
Oh, she had no need to twist their impressionable minds by force, but if on viewing a few of them a girl didn’t grasp the pleasure and eroticism to be found in submission, well, she would know she had the wrong girl.
Yes, she owed her stepfather and Richardson a great deal. It was really rather ironic that their lessons had wound up bankrupting them. Having borrowed every penny they could and put every pound and dollar into their phoney scheme they’d managed to build the stock up quite well. Unfortunately, copies of their plans and correspondence had turned up on the desks of financial reporters in New York and London before they could get their money out. Not only had they lost everything, but also both were facing charges of fraud and misappropriation.
It really was a pity. Perhaps, once she got her business well and truly off the ground, she’d offer them a discount or two while her girls were training. It would have to be a very steep discount, given their current poverty, but then she was a generous girl.
Gwen stood up, the little dildo secretly buried inside her pussy making her gasp softly. She smoothed down her sweater, her hand passing surreptitiously over the rings impaling her nipples beneath the soft fabric, then picked up her books and made her way out of the classroom and up the stairs.
Education wasn’t so very boring, after all.
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