My thunderstruck slut looked at me and wanted to debate my orders, but she realised that arguing would result in me kicking her out. “I’m getting ...ungry,” I said. She walked to the kitchen to prepare lunch for me. “Can I make some for myself?” she asked. “Of course, you’ve got a busy day ahead, so you’ll need the energy.” Amanda looked shocked, but quickly resumed preparing lunch. I just smiled. I could do everything I wanted, and I was going to enjoy that. “I like you this way,” I said.. I never admitted to thatmotivation. My application had been little more than a self-dare.I thought it would be paradise, amid swarms of young ladies with sockstwo to three inches below the knees, and dresses ending six to nineinches above the knees. It sounded so very different from my dominantlymale undergraduate and post-graduate education environment.Wonderful as it sounded, it quickly became ho-hum -- even with theinevitable pretty young-girl crushes. Not to mention, once I. More

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