Educating Marri

Wednesday was my day off and I decided to actually spend some time away from Torch. After classes, I spent the afternoon shopping and even met up with a couple of my friends for dinner. It was so nice not to have to worry about what I would be wearing, or how sore I'd be afterward.

After dinner, I went back to the dorm and started packing my things into the boxes and plastic cartons I'd picked up. It wasn't worth going back and forth every morning now that I knew I was sticking it out at Torch.

I didn't have any classes on Thursdays, so the next morning I packed my stuff into my car and bid a silent farewell to the dorm and even my "old" life. I was moving into Torch, officially, and there would be no going back.

I pulled into the driveway and grabbed as many boxes and bags as I could manage. I went inside and ran right into Lawrence. Literally.

"Oh, sorry," I said, embarrassed beyond words. It was hard to look a man in the eye after he'd handcuffed you to the bed, taught you how to be a prostitute, and then rubbed salve into your sore ass.

He smiled at me and said, "Not a problem, Marri. Moving in, I take it?"

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you call ahead? Will and I would have met you at your car and helped you out."

"'Will'?"

"Will," he said, grinning. "William Earl, our boss?"

Oh, so that was his first name.

"I didn't really think about it," I told him.

"Here. Give me some of that. I'll carry it for you."

He took some of my things and followed me into the apartment. He set them down on the table and asked, "Got more, I assume?"

"Yeah."

"Come on. Let's get it."

We went downstairs and were met by Mr. Earl. Will. Whatever.

"Marri!" he exclaimed. "Here a little early today, aren't you?"

"She's moving in, Will," Lawrence explained.

"Wonderful!" he said, a broad smile spreading over his face. "Come on. I'll help get your things."

The three of us got everything in two more trips. By the time I had it all, I was exhausted from going up and down that damn staircase so many times.

Lawrence set down the last box on the floor and said, "Well, Marri, I gotta get going. I've got some errands to run before everyone shows up for the night."

"Okay," I said, amazed at how easy it was to around him without feeling anything sexual. "Thanks." I guessed I was really adapting to the whole "it's just a job" mentality.

Lawrence left and I was surrounded by all of my things, alone with my boss.

"Well, thanks, Mr. Earl," I said, anxious to just put my stuff away and get rid of all the clutter."

"Please, Marri, you don't need to be so formal. Call me Will."

"Okay. Will."

"Did you need any help unpacking?"

"Uh, I think I'm okay." Being alone with him unnerved me.

"All right. Well, I'll see you later."

"Okay."

I watched him leave and I busied myself with putting my things away. After all, I was working that night, and all I would want to do afterward was collapse into the bed.

* * * * *

"Damn," I muttered. It was getting very late, and I'd only managed to find homes for half of my stuff. I threw a sandwich together for my dinner and went into the other room to get my outfit.

I ate quickly and took a fast shower. I pulled on the clothes, happy to see it wasn't that different from what I normally wore for a date. True, the pants were tighter and the shirt's neckline was much lower, but all in all, it wasn't bad.

"Marri, your client is here," Beverly's voice informed me.

I rushed out of there and went down to the foyer. Beverly was standing there with an average-looking man. She waved to me and I joined them.

"Marri, this is Peter, your client for the evening."

"Hello, Marri," he said, looking me over.

"Hi," I said, trying to figure out why his name sounded so familiar. I decided not to worry about it. Peter was common enough.

"Well, have a good night," she said, and walked away.

"Come on," he said, taking my arm, "let's go."

We went up to my room and he started undressing without a word.

"Come on," he said. "Get those clothes off. We don't got all night."

I pretended to ignore the rudeness and started to strip. Within seconds, I was down to bare skin. I stood there in front of him, not sure what I should do next.

"All right, now get over here and suck my crank."

Obediently, I got on the floor, knelt up, and started sucking. Soon he was moving his hips to match my mouth.

"Yeah," he moaned, "yeah, suck it. Suck that dick, slut. Suck it good."

I kept sucking and soon realized he was about to come. I started to slow down, but he gave my face a light smack. "No, keep going, whore. Come on, I want my jizz in your mouth."

Seconds later, he came hard. I swallowed convulsively and he pushed my head away. I didn't know if he was done for the night, so I didn't move.

"Good job, little bitch," he said, sitting on the bed. "Now get over here. I want a taste of that cute snatch."

He laid back and I went over to him. "Come on, get up here. I want your twat right on my face."

I climbed up on the bed and put my knees on the sides of his head. He grabbed my hips and held tight, making it so I could barely move an inch.

"Play with your jugs for me," he demanded. "Squeeze those little titties for all your worth."

I fondled my breasts while his tongue probed my pussy. He was rough, even biting at the lips, and licked my clit savagely. It was obvious that my pleasure was the furthest thing from his mind.

After a few minutes of this, I was grunting and squirming in discomfort, something that only made him lick harder. I could see his cock out of the corner of my eye, and he was getting hard again.

Finally, he pulled his face away and said, "Get on your hands and knees, whore."

I rolled off and got into position. He plunged his fingers into my pussy, and I pushed back, grinding against his hand.

"That's a nice little hole there, fucktoy," he sneered. "Seems almost a shame to leave it open."

He yanked his fingers out and I arched my hips, ready for his prick. My heart jumped into my chest as he grabbed my ass cheeks and pulled them apart.

"What are you doing?" I gasped.

"Oh, I don't want your stretched-out cumbox," he said. "I'm gonna shove my pecker right up into your shit hole."

That's when I realized why his name was familiar. Della's words replayed themselves in my head. "Then I got Peter. He likes to fuck you up the ass."

"What?" I whispered in disbelief.

"You're a dumb cunt, aren't you?" he growled. "I said I'm gonna fuck your asshole."

With that, he brought the head of his dick up to my ass and started pushing. I cried out in pain and shock as he started to slide in.

"Oh yeah, slut," he grunted, working his way in using only his saliva for lube. "You like it up the ass. Holy fuck, you're so fucking tight!"

Finally, I felt his hips against my cheeks. I was biting my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. He started moving back and forth, and I yelped again. He was going so slowly, but it still felt like he was ripping me apart.

"Let's see how much prick you can take, slut," he said and started fucking my ass in earnest. I tried to pull away, but he held on. Finally, I resigned myself to having my ass reamed out.

"Your ass is so fucking hot!" he yelled, still pumping away. "What a tight little ass-slut you are!"

He fell silent again apart from the occasional groan. His cock grew harder, and I knew he was getting close again.

"Take it, whore!" he screamed. "Take my spunk, you fucking cunt!"

He exploded in me and I fell forward onto the bed. He pulled himself up, panting, and slid out.

"You're not a bad slut," he told me with a smile, as it if was a compliment. "And you love my cock, don't you?"

"Yes," I lied, forcing down the urge to punch him.

"Damn right you do."

With that, he left and I stumbled off to the bathroom to shower the sweat and cum away.