I let out a very soft, very quiet moan, but he hears it. God damn it. Now he knows, and now I look like a slut, or an idiot, or both. My heart rate sp...eds up, and now that he's confirmed my identity he stops bothering touching me. He just keeps winking at me, or casually making fingering gestures when nobody else is looking."Fuck off, pig." I whisper to him, but now nothing will deter him. He knows who I am, and now he's determined to humiliate me. He seems to get bored with tormenting me, and. But he had other plans for me now; he had shown me his cock as part of my training, not from a real desire for service. This whole exercise had just been another repetition, designed to make my responses truly automatic. Repetition and refinement, each time I was expected to perform more perfectly than the last, and in fact that was just what had been happening. Often I no longer thought about the import or considered the implications of the commands he gave me, how I might look, the pain I. More

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