Amy's tuition session

She didn't even ask me about my own cards. Amy thinks stroppily to herself as she mentally goes back over her conversation with Becky, as she hurries across campus. Although... Perhaps it's actually better that I didn't have to tell her that I'd just let a woman laser off most of my pubic hair, and will be retuning tomorrow for her to do the rest...

In the end, Amy is several minutes early for her first one-to-one tuition session with Mr Briggs. The young black man is, of course, already there, sat behind his desk, busying himself with writing out who-knows-what on the paperwork in front of him.

"Good, you're early. Perhaps you will be able to avoid my double-debt-penalty after all." He says calmly and politely, but his words still sting.

"...Thank you Sir." Despite harbouring some negative feelings towards him already, Amy decides that being as polite as possible herself is probably the best way forward with this man.

"Right, well, this session is to make sure we get acquainted with each other before formal teaching starts next week, and also to go over the reading list." Mr Briggs hands over a long piece of paper, filled with names of law books and their authors. "Some of these are expensive, but don't worry, you'll be able to find copies of all of them in the library."

Ugh, the library. Even if Amy doesn't end up using her two of clubs, she's signed the contract that requires her to wear a super-powerful bullet vibrator inside her pussy whenever she visits the library. If she signs up for a queen, it'll end up being a total waste of a very slutty commitment.

The tuition session passes pleasantly enough, with only a few moments where Amy felt like this man was looking down on her and patronizing her. Which, well, he probably was. He clearly doesn't think much of her, after she turned up so late to the induction session.

Well, we'll see who has the last laugh. I'll prove you, and any other haters wrong. I've got what it takes to survive here. And not just survive, but thrive!!!

"Okay, that's everything then. You may go now." Mr. Briggs says calmly, again with an unnecessary air of superiority.

But it's Amy who has a little knowing sparkle in her eye.

"Actually, I've been told I can meet someone else here in 15 minutes." Amy says in a spoiled, know-it-all tone, raising her chin proudly.

Mr. Briggs raises his eyebrows. "Oh, I see. Well, you'd better wait there then. I'll be done with this paperwork soon."

And so, 14 or so minutes of awkward silence ensue, with Amy patiently waiting for her custodian to turn up, and her tutor scribbling away on the paper in front of him.

It's when there's less than 20 seconds for her custodian to turn up that Amy remembers what happened in the library, where the custodian, Lily S, was already there, and had just been waiting until the correct time slot before approaching her. Realization hits her like a ton of bricks.

"No..." Amy says out loud, in disbelief, which causes Mr. Briggs to smirk knowingly.

He's M Briggs... The custodian is Maurice B...

"No way..."

Mr. Briggs puts his pen down and raises his head to make eye contact with his student. He smiles a cold, scheming, almost cruel smile.

"Miss Barnes. Thank you for attending this custodian meetup time slot. Your attendance here, I'm sure you'll agree, clearly signifies your intent to request a contract... For the rights to use the queen of spades card in your strip poker hand on Saturday."

"This is... Wait... What do you mean... Request a contract proposal? Why did you phrase it so awkwardly like that?" Amy asks, her concern very audible in her voice.

"Sentinel, replay the last clause of the contract that Amy Barnes and I agreed upon yesterday." Maurice Briggs commands his bracelet.

"Certainly, Sir." The posh British voice responds. And then, Maurice's own voice can be heard emanating from the speakers inside the bracelet.

"If you ever come to me to request a contract again, and then waste my time and refuse my terms, you will owe me 384 thousand dollars, which will all become due immediately."

"So." The real Maurice in the room right now speaks again, as Amy goes white as a sheet, realizing that she has found herself right in the middle of a perfectly executed trap. "Ready to hear the contract's terms?"