Has no answer

“So you’re happy… if he sells you off to some stranger then?”

Stacy could help but pry further into what made this girl tick, now that she had her alone and had broken through some of the walls of proud and prickling submission she had built around herself. They seemed so similar in some ways… but so far apart in others. Why was Lydia so certain that all she wanted to be was a slave to other’s whims? Giving yourself over to lust and lurid fantasies Miss Lee could fully understand, but here was an erotic devotion far beyond that.

“If that’s what he wants from me, sure.” Lydia offered, in complete nonchalance. She had begun the actual task of washing herself now, running a netted sponge along each long and languid limb.

“But what if the rich guy CEO, or politician, or whatever, he sells you to isn’t worthy… What if they’re some loser who just screws you once or twice and gets bored. “

The cheerleader fixed her bathmate with that cold and piercing stare once again, warning against pushing too far down this route.

“If my Master decides to sell me to someone like that… then I will still do my duty to them. Until they decide to send me back or sell me on.”

Stacy was wise enough to know when to back off a little, though she couldn’t help needle a little humour into proceedings. “Even if they’re, like, enormously fat with a tiny, little dick and just absolutely flatten you every night? Forever squished and unfulfilled?”

Lydia couldn’t help but let a chuckle slip at the poetic delivery of such an image, though it was clear she was still a little on guard. She sighed once more, sliding up the length of the porcelain basin to lie on top of this fair-skinned frenemy and begin running the sponge across her form instead.

“What if… he decided to keep you?” Tried Stacy again, a few minutes later… shivering with the tingling experience of being scrubbed by someone else.

Lydia gave up… the girl would not desist. At least this was a preferable line of enquiry. “Well… if that was his choice... Then I’d stay happily chained to his bed, all day and all night. I’d even sleep in a kennel outside, like a dog... or hung up in his basement like any other tool. Just so long as I got to be his special, little fuck-toy forever.”

Stacy was amazed by how quickly that dreamy, wistful outlook came back as the beauteous creature described all these debasing scenarios. The excitable, almost-innocent kink in her clear and visible from a mile away. She knew what she wanted, of that there was no denying, whether you thought she should or not.

“What about you? What’s your dream for the future with those two?” The damp-haired spirit struck back, showing the first bit of interest in Stacy herself she ever had.

“I’m… not sure.” Her current mattress began, before realising she had to give something away for all these secrets she’d been prying.

“I had this idea once… of us all living in a flat together, in the city… and me just being free for them to use, whenever and however they liked.”

It seemed so long ago now, that she had had such a thought. So much had happened since. The insatiable Stacy was not so sure anymore, that such an arrangement would fulfil all her itches.

“But maybe we could sell me out… to other people too? Have a queue of fellas coming and going, to fill me up all day long… I could be a proper whore, for sure! That’d help with rent and stuff.”

Lydia chuckled again, settling down to nuzzle into the whore-to-be’s neck.

“I don’t think most people go into prostitution, thinking it’s a career path…” She said, combing a stray clump of hair away from Stacy’s forehead. “But, then again… I can’t really talk.”