At home

When you get to your room you obediently put five cameras in your room, four in every corner and one at your desk, it will let him see your bed. You considered putting less of them or maybe to leave somewhere a blind spot, but you decide against it, you are almost certain that he would realize that. Fuck! Till today, even in last few days your room was your sanctuary where you felt relatively safe, but he took that away from you. You feel exposed, constantly watched. Fuck! You hope that he'll let you go after these two months, because if not...

He calls you, dreaded what will happen you answer the phone

"Yes, sir?"

"Very good Emily" you can swear that this bastard is smiling "I can see you very clearly" you can't stop yourself from looking around, even though you know it is pointless "get naked and kneel on the floor."

"Can I close the door first?" you are resigned to your fate, but you don't want your parents to walk and see you like that.

"You can" he allows "and for your information, since today the only thing that you are allowed to wear in your room are bra and panties. I would recommend to have something that you can get on pretty quickly in case of emergency."

This is just two months, you have to endure, you have to endure. You try to stall, but finally you have to get naked and kneel. Somehow it is more humiliating to have to do it in your room than in the classroom. This is your room, your private space and he's taking that away from you. It makes you feel angry and powerless.

"Push your tits out" he interrupts your train of thoughts "I want to have a good look at my...property."

This is probably the first time he referred to you this way. It's annoying, but you can do nothing about it. You present him his breasts, playing the role of the slut, the role you are temporarily **** to play.

"Very nice, very nice" he says "Emily I think that I found solution to our problem. You'll just have to take camera with you every time you are taking a shower" is he serious? "I know that it would be a hassle, but I need a way to check if you are not misbehaving. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir" you say through the clenched teeth. Fucking degenerate.

"Okay, now I've got a question. Do you have any sex toys?"

Oh shit, he probably wants you to make a show for him. Screw that! You have a dildo, but he doesn't know that.

"No."

"That's a shame, I will send you a list of accessories that you'll buy" this time he doesn't even ask for a confirmation "but I think you have a marker of some kind."

"Yes" denying that would be too risky.

"Very good. I want you to write <<SLUT>> in big letters above your breasts."

"What? No!"

"You are right. <<WHORE>> would be more appropriate as you are offering sexual services in exchange for good grades."

Your face turns red.

"Come on" he encourages you "write a whore as you wanted."

"Can I..." you hesitate "can I write <<SLUT>>> instead?"

"Let me be clear. You ask me to allow you to call yourself a slut, right?"

"Well...yes" he's blackmailing you, you are not asking for anything!

"So you admit, you are a slut, right?"

"Yeah..."

"I didn't expect that. Well, I knew that you would admit that, but not so quickly. I guess you have less self-respect that I thought. Be my guest, write in on yourself."

Now you are really embarrassed and really, really red. But it's too late to withdraw. So with shaking hands you write <<SLUT>> above your chest. Your hands are shaking a little, so it's not a perfect hand-writing, but it's readable.

"So" he says "one more thing. Your punishment."

You can't believe it.