micoba
micoba:

She sometimes thought about how different life would be if there really had been a scholarship to the Ivy League school she’d been led to believe was waiting for her. 
But the foundation that provided them to gifted orphaned students from Japan was mostly a scam. They did get some girls through school alright. But those were there for success stories. The pretty ones, they never set a foot on campus. By the time their plane touched down, their new, wealthy owners were already waiting for their little nippon fetish doll to be delivered.

micoba:

She sometimes thought about how different life would be if there really had been a scholarship to the Ivy League school she’d been led to believe was waiting for her. 

But the foundation that provided them to gifted orphaned students from Japan was mostly a scam. They did get some girls through school alright. But those were there for success stories. The pretty ones, they never set a foot on campus. By the time their plane touched down, their new, wealthy owners were already waiting for their little nippon fetish doll to be delivered.

blithelibertine
unixslut:

She hadn’t yet realized that she couldn’t cum. We always love watching this part, and often we will use it as a way to spice up the day when things are quiet. 
She had woken up wet and horny. The drugs in her system were altering her slightly, ramping up the hormones that controlled her arousal. As she sat up in the cot, she realized she was in an empty room with nothing but a cot, a toilet, a mirror, and a soft chair.
The obligatory room search, which every girl seems to do when they awake in these circumstances, was pretty cursory. In the back of he her head, she probably realized she wasn’t in Kansas anymore. We watched as she unconsciously started rubbing her nipples against the walls and furniture as she looked around.
When she finally sat down in the chair, naked and trembling, her hands seemed to automatically rise to fondle her breasts. She looked down, an almost bewildered expression on her pretty face. Unlike some, though, this one didn’t fight it. The feelings were so good, so overwhelming, that she simply lay back, closed her eyes, and started to toy with herself.
Perhaps 25 minutes went by, her arousal rising by the second. Her chair became wet, and when her fingers finally slid slickly into her cunt, she gasped at the embarrassingly loud wet noise. That didn’t stop her from continuing, though.
Another 15 minutes went by as she alternately fingered herself hard, and played with her clit. All the while, her nipples were as hard as bricks, her face contorted into a mask of desperation. She began to make the most pitiful sounds, sort of a cross between a whimper and a low, chesty moan.
About that time, she began to look at herself in the mirror. Her eyes dulled considerably, and she stood, fingers still working her cunt like her life depended on it. Her other hand slapped and pinched at her nipples, rolling her breasts around as she leaned into the beautiful, sweaty, desperate vision of herself in the mirror.
She could feel the build-up, the pressure that she knew to be an orgasm. She could feel it growing, and though she was still making animal sounds of lust, a smile curled on her lips. She slid one finger into her ass, a couple into her sloppy, slurping pussy, and let her thumb graze over her clit as she pumped with all her might. Her taut nipples must have ached terribly as she teased at them, alternating between squeezes, brushes, and slaps.
And nothing happened. The pressure kept building. She tried to pause, but she couldn’t keep her fingers away from her clit. She fingered herself  until she started to squirt, but still there was no orgasm. With sweat and her own juices dribbling down her thighs, she began to swear like a fishwife.
We knew from experience that this would continue for at least another three or four hours, before sheer exhaustion made her sleep. Meanwhile, her lovely body would be flooded with hormones, reinforcing her need to touch, her depseration for orgasm… all the while making it impossible for her to reach the pinacle.
At some point we’d send a male in there, and see how she took to being used. We’d use conditioning and hypnosis and brainwashing to help her associate male use of her body with both pleasure and relief, although she would never reach orgasm again…

unixslut:

She hadn’t yet realized that she couldn’t cum. We always love watching this part, and often we will use it as a way to spice up the day when things are quiet.

She had woken up wet and horny. The drugs in her system were altering her slightly, ramping up the hormones that controlled her arousal. As she sat up in the cot, she realized she was in an empty room with nothing but a cot, a toilet, a mirror, and a soft chair.

The obligatory room search, which every girl seems to do when they awake in these circumstances, was pretty cursory. In the back of he her head, she probably realized she wasn’t in Kansas anymore. We watched as she unconsciously started rubbing her nipples against the walls and furniture as she looked around.

When she finally sat down in the chair, naked and trembling, her hands seemed to automatically rise to fondle her breasts. She looked down, an almost bewildered expression on her pretty face. Unlike some, though, this one didn’t fight it. The feelings were so good, so overwhelming, that she simply lay back, closed her eyes, and started to toy with herself.

Perhaps 25 minutes went by, her arousal rising by the second. Her chair became wet, and when her fingers finally slid slickly into her cunt, she gasped at the embarrassingly loud wet noise. That didn’t stop her from continuing, though.

Another 15 minutes went by as she alternately fingered herself hard, and played with her clit. All the while, her nipples were as hard as bricks, her face contorted into a mask of desperation. She began to make the most pitiful sounds, sort of a cross between a whimper and a low, chesty moan.

About that time, she began to look at herself in the mirror. Her eyes dulled considerably, and she stood, fingers still working her cunt like her life depended on it. Her other hand slapped and pinched at her nipples, rolling her breasts around as she leaned into the beautiful, sweaty, desperate vision of herself in the mirror.

She could feel the build-up, the pressure that she knew to be an orgasm. She could feel it growing, and though she was still making animal sounds of lust, a smile curled on her lips. She slid one finger into her ass, a couple into her sloppy, slurping pussy, and let her thumb graze over her clit as she pumped with all her might. Her taut nipples must have ached terribly as she teased at them, alternating between squeezes, brushes, and slaps.

And nothing happened. The pressure kept building. She tried to pause, but she couldn’t keep her fingers away from her clit. She fingered herself  until she started to squirt, but still there was no orgasm. With sweat and her own juices dribbling down her thighs, she began to swear like a fishwife.

We knew from experience that this would continue for at least another three or four hours, before sheer exhaustion made her sleep. Meanwhile, her lovely body would be flooded with hormones, reinforcing her need to touch, her depseration for orgasm… all the while making it impossible for her to reach the pinacle.

At some point we’d send a male in there, and see how she took to being used. We’d use conditioning and hypnosis and brainwashing to help her associate male use of her body with both pleasure and relief, although she would never reach orgasm again…

micoba
micoba:

Funding cuts made it necessary for the director of the asylum - pardon, mental health institute - to get creative to keep the doors open and get patients their critical treatment. 
Rich, criminal perverts required a place where they could do their thing, out of sight, out of mind. Turn an unwilling secretary into a grateful, hungry fuck toy. Lock away an uppity step daughter that didn’t understand that her young cunt was part of the package deal when they married their mothers. Rich young heiresses put away for some made-up dangerous mental illness so the greedy lawyers of their late fathers could maintain control of their fortunes and leisurely take possession of their spoiled, tight holes as well.
That kind of thing.
Generous donations by a handful of wealthy individuals made sure both needs could be met. Two high-security floors were reserved for their requirements and they could draw both from the stock of recently purchased new equipment and medications as well as medical services of any kind. Plastic surgery, pervasive mind-altering therapy, even the occasional abortion, whatever was needed for long-term care of these inmates was available.
Those no longer of interest to their owners still had a way of serving them, either by entertaining the guards and doctors and thus providing their silence and goodwill - or by participating in long-term studies on new, FDA-unapproved psychoactive medications for cash.

micoba:

Funding cuts made it necessary for the director of the asylum - pardon, mental health institute - to get creative to keep the doors open and get patients their critical treatment. 

Rich, criminal perverts required a place where they could do their thing, out of sight, out of mind. Turn an unwilling secretary into a grateful, hungry fuck toy. Lock away an uppity step daughter that didn’t understand that her young cunt was part of the package deal when they married their mothers. Rich young heiresses put away for some made-up dangerous mental illness so the greedy lawyers of their late fathers could maintain control of their fortunes and leisurely take possession of their spoiled, tight holes as well.

That kind of thing.

Generous donations by a handful of wealthy individuals made sure both needs could be met. Two high-security floors were reserved for their requirements and they could draw both from the stock of recently purchased new equipment and medications as well as medical services of any kind. Plastic surgery, pervasive mind-altering therapy, even the occasional abortion, whatever was needed for long-term care of these inmates was available.

Those no longer of interest to their owners still had a way of serving them, either by entertaining the guards and doctors and thus providing their silence and goodwill - or by participating in long-term studies on new, FDA-unapproved psychoactive medications for cash.

dumbrapeslut
cheatersandcucks:

You hired your wife’s sister on as your personal assistant. She always dressed for the job and never complained about the things you got her to do or working late. You’re especially pleased that she never complained about not spending a lot of time with her boyfriend, even when you called him up in front of her and told him that he would have to cancel his birthday dinner plans because she had some work to attend to.
When you hung up the phone with him, she thanked you and then ran her tongue up the underside of your hard cock.

cheatersandcucks:

You hired your wife’s sister on as your personal assistant. She always dressed for the job and never complained about the things you got her to do or working late. You’re especially pleased that she never complained about not spending a lot of time with her boyfriend, even when you called him up in front of her and told him that he would have to cancel his birthday dinner plans because she had some work to attend to.

When you hung up the phone with him, she thanked you and then ran her tongue up the underside of your hard cock.