How Alyssa Paid for School – BDSM – Sex Story


Amy pounded at the door. “Fuck, let me in,” she wondered.

Alyssa opened it up, wearing a leather corset, panties, and boots. “Come on in,” she said. “Bitch had better be worth it,” Alyssa wondered. “Making me skip class for this on a Tuesday morning.”

“Sit down,” Alyssa said, pointing at the couch. “Can I get you anything?” Amy just shook her head. It wasn’t her first visit to Alyssa’s off-campus apartment. It was a smallish place, but big enough for Alyssa to live in alone.

Amy looked a little out of place coming here, and she had at all times felt it in the past. At thirty nine years old, she was easily the oldest woman around. Everyone who lived inside was a student at the university, the apartment was a block from campus. Amy was on the tall side, thin with large breasts, the product of her two children more than anything else. But they were off at college today, and Rick, her husband, was on a company trip. Amy was lonely. She craved attention, even if she had to pay for it.

“So what brings you here this morning?” Alyssa asked, sipping her coffee.

“I – it’s just the – the usual, if you get my drift,” Amy replied. “Plus – plus the extra stuff we talked about that – that I want to try.”

Alyssa nodded. “Been too long since you had a woman get a little rough with you?”

Amy exhaled nervously. She knew what she wanted, and she knew Alyssa knew what she wanted, but somehow she dreaded being made to admit it. Amy nodded. “Yeah, I – yeah, something like that, I guess.”

“That’s yes, Miss,” Alyssa corrected.

“Yes Miss. Sorry, Miss.”

“Stand up.”

Alyssa looked over Amy’s body. “I see you’ve worn the outfit I requested today.”

“Yes, Miss.” Amy looked down, her breasts bulging out of her top, supported by a push-up bra. Her top has been tied under her breasts, exposing her midriff, and she wore a short black skirt with no panties underneath.

“Before we get started – same conditions as usual?”

Amy knew what she meant. Her limits, though few, would be enforced. Her boundaries, even fewer, may be pushed. Her body would be tortured, her mind toyed with. She would be degraded, humiliated. And she would achieve orgasm. In return, she would pay the agreed-upon price.

“Yes, Miss.” Amy stood with her hands clasped behind her head. She knew by now this was the pose Alyssa preferred when in a standing position.

“Good. And let’s get this out of the way,” Alyssa said as she pushed Amy back into the couch and crawled on top of her. “Do you have my money?”

“Miss, um – that’s the thing. I only have two hundred.”

Alyssa slapped her hard across the face. “Are you trying to play me? You know two fifty is the fee for my services.”

“Yes, Miss.” Alyssa slapped her again.

“Oww! I’m – I’m sorry miss!” Amy reached into her pocket and handed Alyssa the two hundred dollars, which she counted and put in a drawer in the kitchen.

“I’m sorry isn’t worth fifty dollars to me. So why did you not bring the proper amount?”

“I’m sorry, it – my husband is out of town, it was all I could scrape together!”

“How pathetic. You better start coming up with a plan to get that fifty dollars or I’m shoving your ass out the door!”

“What about my -“

“The two hundred dollars is mine. Regardless. I skipped class for your deadbeat ass!”

“Miss, I -“

“I’m waiting.”

Amy sat in silence, trying to formulate a plan to come up with the money. “Maybe I could trade her something, sell her something,” she wondered. She reached for her watch, but her wrist was empty. She had traded her watch for the last twenty dollars she needed last time.

“I have your watch already, bitch,” Alyssa reminded her. “Well, I had it. Who knew it was worth seventy dollars on eBay?”

“Well I sold it to you for twenty, so doesn’t that cover the fifty I need today?”

Alyssa laughed. “That’s not how it works. You were so desperate for me to crop your ass you traded a seventy dollar watch for the last twenty dollars of my price! Don’t tell me now that wasn’t a good deal!”

Alyssa pushed Amy backward onto the couch, straddling her, sitting on her lap. “Tell me, cunt – wasn’t it worth it? Trading your watch for pennies on the dollar to get what you desperately craved from me?”

“Y-yes, Miss,” Amy stammered.

“Tell you what. I have a proposition, in the interest of moving this along. This is right next to campus. There’s drunk, horny college guys that will fuck anything that moves. Even you! I can find two of them to buy your services for twenty-five a piece. Then you’ll have your two fifty. You’ll have them out the door in a half hour, hour tops.”

“Services?”

“Don’t be so coy. I mean you’re going to let them fuck you – two of them – for twenty five each.”

“Al-Miss- you want me to whore myself out for twenty- five dollars? Is that all I -“

“Listen. You go strutting down sixth street on a Saturday night, you’re probably worth a hundred to the right guy. Two holes, more for anal. Maybe a little bonus if you skip the rubber. But it’s a Tuesday morning, and the clock is ticking. I can have two of them here in ten minutes. So at this moment, you’re a twenty-five dollar whore for college guys. Or I throw your ass out on the curb.”

“Miss, I -“

“I’m listening.”

“But I’ve never – I mean – I’m not a -“

“Well then I guess you came down here to give me two hundred and leave then?”

“Miss, please – I mean – I can get it, you know I’m good for it! I’ll bring it by on Friday!”

“Listen, I’m a dominatrix. Not a charity. You take my offer or you leave.”

Amy just sat there. She needed what Alyssa had to offer. Truth be told, she was addicted to it. Addicted to the pain, the punishment, to the way Alyssa at all times knew how to push her buttons and make her feel lower than shit – but somehow, so alive! She ran down to see Alyssa every time her husband skipped town. And just as she traded her watch just a couple weeks ago, now she was about to trade her body, trade any shred of dignity she had left.

“I – okay – call them,” she said. Amy looked at the floor, wanting to cry. How low was she sinking to sell her body for a measly twenty five bucks? God, she felt so worthless. Crack whores charged more! And yet, she would have fucked twice as many for half the price if that was what it took. It was the price to pay for being addicted to the sting of the whip on her back and ass, to crying out in pain, to the ultimate climax, the earth-shattering release she got when she could take no further abuse.

“Good. See, I knew you’d come around!”

“God, my husband – I’ve never had another cock since -“

“Yeah, because you two have such a great connection. That’s why you have to come down here like a lost puppy every couple weeks.”

Amy stood there, hands clasped behind her head, while Alyssa snapped a photo of her. “Miss, are you -?” She began.

“Got to show the boys what they’re getting,” Alyssa said. “Or it’ll take twice as long to find two.” Amy nodded. She just hoped the images weren’t making their way to anyone she knew.

“Kneel, slut,” Alyssa said to Amy. Without a word, Amy knelt to the floor, holding her submissive pose.

“Why don’t you make yourself useful while I arrange for you to make some quick cash.”

“Miss?”

“Lick my feet you dumb bitch!” Alyssa sat in a chair and raised her left foot, allowing Amy to take one toe into her mouth. She acted repulsed at first, barely touching the foot with her tongue. Alyssa knew she wasn’t really into it, but she wanted to put her through some extra humiliation since she had to work extra hard for her money today.

“Better! Get them all nice and clean! Worship my fucking feet! And thank me for being so generous to whore you out so you can afford to pay me!”

“Mmmmm,” Amy moaned. “Thank you miss, for allowing me to whore myself out for you. Thank you for finding me a couple of college guys to fuck me for money!”

“You look so worthless licking my feet and thanking me for selling your body. Just think about it. You just agreed to be a twenty five dollar whore to two complete strangers so you can have the privilege of a younger, stronger, more attractive woman torturing you the way you crave!”

“I’m so worthless, Miss!” Amy was starting to actually believe it. She felt in her heart that she was nothing in that moment – just a pathetic wife and mother who had to resort to prostitution just to get sexual release. She felt dead inside most days. Her husband didn’t want her. Her kids never wanted to be around her. The only sexual release she could get was to pay the price and beg this younger, hotter twenty-two year old to hurt her and actually make her feel something. She was getting what she deserved.

“I’ve tried everything,” Amy wondered. “Breast enhancements. Botox. I’m not fat. I’ve tried to keep him interested.” But no, her husband loved the thrill of the chase, going after younger women, entertaining them, trying to impress them, seducing them. She just wanted to feel wanted. And sure, she could have just had an affair, but this was different. This was more intense, more degrading, it got her blood flowing and her heart pounding like nothing else. She was addicted – addicted to the sting of the whip across her backside, addicted to the worthlessness she felt at when Alyssa spoke to her. She craved it at any price – including selling her body for metaphorical peanuts to obtain it.

“Make me believe it, slut! Show me how much you just love kissing and sucking my feet!”

“Mmmmm, yes, Miss! I love your beautiful feet, Miss!” They were gorgeous, too. They were smooth and not marked by a single callus or corn. Her nails were painted a deep red, contrasting well with her chocolate skin. She must take care of them well, Amy wondered. Amy sat obediently, agreeably taking four of Alyssa’s toes into her mouth, caressing them with her tongue before licking the bottom of her soles. She moaned delightfully, groveling, worshipping her younger supreme.

“One on the way,” Alyssa said nonchalantly. “One to go.”

Amy took a deep breath and exhaled. She could hardly believe she was being debased to this level. A nice suburban wife who had all the material niceties she might need, Amy, though she was generally unhappy with her lot in life, never wondered she would discover herself stopping so low as to turn into a prostitute. But here she was, kissing a woman’s feet and wishing, waiting for two guys she had never met to show up and pay her so she could get the abuse she had become so addicted to.

“Thank you, Miss.” she couldn’t believe the words she was saying. She was thanking her domme for whoring her out so she could afford to pay to be abused. “I really am pathetic,” she wondered. She licked the sole of Alyssa’s foot obediently.

“Under my arm, cunt,” Alyssa said.

“Miss?”

“I said lick my armpit. NOW!” Alyssa pulled Amy up by her hair and dragged her to the couch, where she offered her underarm to her as she sat texting on her phone.

Alyssa had enough after just a minute. “There. Two guys, they’ll be here in five. Now I’m going to punish you for that pathetic job you did showing me how delicious my body is.” She grabbed Amy’s hair and pulled her off the couch. “Stand here. Pose!” She ordered. Amy placed her hands behind her head again.

Alyssa proceeded to untie and remove Amy’s shirt, allowing her to lower her hands momentarily so she could remove it. Then she ripped off Amy’s skirt, leaving her clad in a bra and panties. They were a matching set, just as Alyssa had ordered her to wear, bright red and very sexual. Lace fabric, a bit see through, and very light in the coverage department.

Her bra was red lace, with lace cups that allowed Amy’s nipples to peek through, clearly visible to Alyssa. There were straps around the tops of the cups, accentuating her cleavage. The panties she wore were sheer mesh, red, with black trim. They weren’t quite a thong, but they definitely weren’t full coverage, and they were cut high on her hips.

Alyssa stepped in close and grabbed Amy’s throat. Amy offered no protest. She knew she needed it. Alyssa spit on her face. “You look like a fucking whore, Amy,” she said. “A cheap, dirty fucking whore.” She slapped Amy in the face, causing Amy to flinch.

“Let’s see how you’re doing down here,” Alyssa said. She traced her opposite hand down to Amy’s pussy, leaving her right hand on her throat. “Ohhhh, so fucking wet,” she commented. “Does it turn you on to lick my feet, slut?”

“Yes, Miss,” Amy moaned obediently.

“And to pay me to fucking hurt you?” Alyssa stroked Amy’s pussy softly through her panties.

“Ohhh yes, Miss!” Amy moaned, a little more loudly this time.

“And to whore yourself out, to turn into a cheap hooker to afford the pain and humiliation you crave?”

“Fuck you!” Amy wondered to herself, but wised up and did not say it. She wondered about how much she despised whoring herself. “No!” She wondered. “It does NOT turn me on to be a fucking prostitute! Especially for twenty five dollars!” Amy suddenly craved a warm touch, a soft caress, loving arms. Part of her wanted to forget the two hundred dollars, put her clothes on and leave even faster than she came. She didn’t know where she would go, what she would do – but she wanted to be loved, damn it!

But part of her too, knew that the instant she got to her car, she would regret it. She’d come groveling back to Alyssa, begging her to tie her up and whip her ass, to force her anally with a big strap on, to lick and worship her feet. To call her a stupid worthless fucking slut. “Alyssa would probably up her fee to three fifty,” Amy wondered. “And make me whore myself to six guys to pay her.”

While these thoughts were floating through Amy’s mind, Alyssa was growing inpatient for an answer. She lifted her left hand from Amy’s pussy and put it around her throat, releasing her throat with her right hand. She raised her hand and – whoosh! – slapped Amy hard across her cheek.

“Answer me, you filthy cunt!” She called out. “Do you get turned on being a cheap nasty whore? Do you need it, slut?” She slapped Amy again.

“Oh! Yes, Miss!” Amy called out.

“Say it. Admit to me what you need!”

“I – ohhhh! I need to be a cheap nasty whore!”

“Good. Now go to the couch. Kneel on the couch and present your ass to me.”

Alyssa’s couch was really considered a sectional, if only because there was a chaise at one end. Amy knew the drill. She had been ordered to kneel there before. She dutifully crawled on top of the chaise and faced the back of the couch, her backside facing the center of the room, and she knelt, placing her head down on the back of the cushion submissively, and arched her back, pointing her ass directly at Alyssa.

Alyssa almost laughed at the wondered of that couch. Or sectional, or whatever you want to call it. It was an inexpensive piece, purchased for six hundred dollars at a discount furniture store, paid for with money she had earned by feminizing a sixty year old man – dressing him in lingerie, painting his nails and doing his makeup and lipstick – and whipping him and calling him a pathetic piece of shit whore while she made him fuck his ass with a dildo and later forced him to eat his own cum – for the handsome price of $1,200.

“Say it again,” Adrienne practically whispered in Amy’s ear.

“I need it, Miss,” Amy reluctantly admitted again. “I need to be a cheap, nasty whore.”

“And how much are your holes worth this morning?”

Amy sniffled. She hated this – thinking of herself as nothing more than a cheap prostitute. She shouldn’t be doing this – shouldn’t want it, shouldn’t crave it. In fact, she should be repulsed by it! But something else inside her was raging. The part she didn’t fully find out. The addiction. The part that made her pussy throb and drip when she was humiliated, degraded, and hurt.

“My holes are only worth twenty five dollars, Miss.”

Amy lashed out, swinging her hand and landing it with a crack on Amy’s exposed ass cheeks.

“Ohhhh!” Amy cried out. “Yes! Yes! This is what I needed!” She wondered to herself. “This is what you needed, you filthy little slut!”

Amy sat down next to Amy’s ass, facing the opposite direction, and spanked her again. “Is that all you think you’re worth? How pathetic.” She said softly.

“Yes, it’s all I’m worth – please!”

Amy felt three successive blows across her ass, in rapid succession. “Oww! Ohhh! Pleeeease!” She whimpered. She sniffled again, unsure if she was on the verge of tears because of the pain or the humiliation Alyssa was dealing out.

“How pathetic,” Alyssa began. “Paying me to hurt you. To humiliate you. To make you feel like a piece of shit.”

“Yes, Miss. I’m pathetic. Ohhhhh! Owwww!” She moaned as Alyssa continued to spank her ass. It was already turning a light shade of pink.

“That’s how much you crave feeling like a pathetic little cunt, isn’t it? You need it so much you’ll pay money to be abused, beaten, hurt and humiliated, won’t you?”

“Owwww, yes, Mistress, I need it -“

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. “Stay right here,” Alyssa said. “They need to see what a nasty bitch you are so they know how to use you properly.”

Amy’s heart pounded. She knew these would be the school guys she would be sold to. This was her last chance – she could still back out and run if she wanted. Her sensible side tried to get her to run, in fact. “I’ve never had sex for money in my life,” she wondered. “If I do this, I – I’ll always be a whore! I’ll always have to live with the fact that I sold my body for only 25 dollars! Just so I could pay for that sexy young girl to fucking hurt me.” And her sensible side didn’t want to be hurt or humiliated, either. But her pussy dripped. Her addiction to pain and humiliation controlled her. She looked up to see the guys that she would soon be paid to fuck.

“Hi, guys. Come in,” Alyssa said. “Your cheap set of holes is over there. You have about twenty minutes. I need my money from both of you first.”

The guys each handed her $25, and she motioned toward Amy, waiting ass-up on the couch.

“All three holes?” One of the guys asked.

“Yeah, all three. She’s a cunt.” Alyssa said.

Amy was incensed. Didn’t she get a say in what she was selling? Alyssa had just agreed that Amy would sell her mouth, pussy and ass to these guys she had never even met and whose names age did not know. Didn’t she have any control of what parts of her body they were getting, the way she was used?

Almost as humiliating was the fact that Amy wasn’t getting any of the money, Alyssa was. “Fuck, I wonder what these guys must think of me!” She wondered. “Selling it – my body – to them so cheap, and Alyssa taking the money! God, they must think I’m worthless! And all bent over like this! I wonder if they know I’m paying Alyssa to -you know.” She couldn’t even bring herself to admit to herself what she was paying Alyssa to do.

One of the guys, the taller one – Amy had no idea what their names were and wasn’t sure she wanted to – approached and touched Amy’s ass and gave it a squeeze. “All right, we don’t have much time so I’m taking these off,” he said. He pulled down Amy’s panties, her asshole peeking out followed by her pussy, looking him right in the face. Amy sniffled and a tear ran down her cheek as she wondered about how she was allowing a guy she didn’t know, and had never met, to remove her panties and take a birds eye view of her most private areas.

She sniffled again. “God, I deserve this,” she wondered. “Getting felt up and exposing myself for these guys. I’m just a whore. I’m a whore for wanting it. For needing Alyssa to abuse me this much! I deserve it so badly, I’m such a useless cunt!” But her useless cunt was leaking down her leg. She was about to become a cheap nasty hooker and she had never been more aroused in her life, despite the fact that she was not the least bit convinced she wanted it.

“Are you going to just stand there or are you going to get what you paid for?” Alyssa said to the guys. “Come on, clock is ticking!”

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