Flawless, self-obsessed women scrolled past on Lucy's phone screen as she was trying to select her ten "role models" of the day. Each new video seemed more sexual than the last.

She was browsing Instagram crying softly, curled up in her bed. Phantom strands of cum were still lingering in her throat. How could she have done that? Immediately after Jürgen left, she finished the pink pill, ashamed of herself, in a desperate attempt to forget, and went to bed, barely interacting with Leena. She woke up hours later, the day already ending, the deadline to post her own video approaching fast.

She craved another pill but knew it would not be reasonable at all. Maybe later, as a reward, once she managed to film her video. She went to the bathroom to pee, and looked at her face. She looked extremely tired: no surprise here. She couldn't film herself looking like that. Or maybe...

She went back to her room, opened the app again and selected one of the strongest filters. Not bad. Not bad actually. The AI was radically improving her face, smoothing little wrinkles, creases and blemishes and adding virtual makeup.

Ok. She could do it. She wore her miniskirt then walked to the entryway. There, she put on her shoes, and balanced the phone on a cupboard. Her teacher had asked her to regularly show what he had bought her: today she'll show her shoe collection, tomorrow she would open her closet to display her dresses...

 

She pressed the record button and moved back.

 

"Hiiii.... This is like, my outfit of the day video!!" She cringed but pushed through. It didn't need to be perfect, just to be done. "So today I have this pretty crop top, isn't it cute!? And this miniskirt, it's sooo pretty, I can't even! And, here, look my shoes..."

 

It was stupid.

 

She stopped and went back to her feed to look for some inspiration. She was flabbergasted by what she was seeing. Perfect looking women posing lewdly, doing provocative dances, walking confidently, flaunting their perfect bodies, showing hints of nipples or pussy with a playful, naughty look at the camera. She never could have imagined that the app could serve this kind of borderline pornographic content.

She entered "OOTD" in the search bar. Most girls where not even talking, posing silently or lip-syncing mindless songs. But she had to talk. Kessler wanted her to practice her valley-girl voice. Finally, she found some examples. Blonde girls, dressed in pink, using this same kind of voice, often under the term "bimbo". Ok. She decided to learn from them.

She shot another take. And another. She was finally satisfied with the third one and decided to post it and forget.

 

But the app didn't want her to forget. As she was fixing her dinner, notifications started cascading. She had been expecting crude messages, people making fun of her, but no. To her surprise, it was very positive. People saying how pretty she was. Saying they loved her. Sending her heart and rose emojis. Stupid. Stupid, horny men, the same kind she had encountered during her live stream. But, still... she couldn't deny that, deep inside her, it made her happy.

 

***

It was a busy week for Lucy.

 

Monday at school was uneventful. Drugged (by her own hands this time), she navigated the day in a happy daze, enjoying the attention from the boys.

 

That very evening, Sarah introduced her to the strip club looking for a hostess. Sarah herself was alternating mainly between three different clubs.

- The first one had a rock n roll vibe. It was a place cluttered with memorabilia, guitars and signed portraits on the walls, an old jukebox on the main stage, where heavily tattooed strippers performed, exuding a powerful, fun energy. It was a place to drink, have loud fun with friends and even eat reasonably well. Sarah had made some good friendships there, with strong-willed women that seemed ready to conquer the world.

- The second one was a lot more dodgy. Sarah's least favorite. It used to be a glamorous club, but the new owner didn't take care of it. Slowly, shady managers, changes in the neighborhood and population turned the joint into a seedy place that horny guys would visit to get a quick fuck in the private rooms. Bouncers were basically useless, not even reacting when clients lightly groped dancers. Most of the girls were too drunk or high to care anyway, and some even encouraged it, happy to let guys feel their goods before buying. Its only redeeming quality was its location, a few streets from Sarah's place.

- The third one was more classic. Management was good, the atmosphere tasteful. Low lights, (clean) carpeted floor, comfortable seating. If anything, it was a bit bland. That was the one Lucy visited this Monday evening.

 

***

Sarah had driven her to the club.

From a distance, a worker taking a break in the next door parking lot watched the two girls exiting the car. He was the type of guy who leered at women shamelessly, and the pair of round breasts he could guess beneath their clothes were pretty easy on his eyes.

The shorter one (Sarah) was well dressed, in black leather ballet flats, dress pants and a long-sleeve ribbed knit top. She was talking to the other one (Lucy), a sharp contrast in style, flaunting trashy tattoos and a navel piercing that her short crop top left exposed. Her slender legs were barely covered by a skirt that left almost nothing to the imagination, ending in platform high heels.

 

"Hey check out the slut", he said to his friend, who was having a smoke.

His friend whistled. He immediately understood he was talking about Lucy. They exchanged a knowing look as the girl walked toward the strip club and the other went back in the car to wait for her.

 

Lucy tried to maintain her composure as she entered the club. It had just opened for the night. She introduced herself to the door girl who guided her inside. She followed, her high heels sinking slightly into the carpeted floor, impressed by the poles that seemed to descend from the tall ceiling and rest on some altars bathed in soft lighting, making the place look like some cathedral of debauchery. The manager was at the bar. He greeted her and, soon, they were both in his office.

 

"So you're Sarah's friend, huh?", he asked.

 

Lucy was standing there, in her short black skirt, platform high heels sandals and white crop top with padding in her bra. A few months ago, no doubt she would've been extremely shy in front of this guy sitting behind his desk, sizing her up. But now he was failing to impress her, as she couldn't help but compare him to Kessler, who was without a doubt much more impressive, much more dangerous.

 

She confirmed, forcing herself to slip into the valley girl persona her teacher had told her to use all the time in the club.

 

"Like, yes!"

 

"Mmm." He smiled dubiously. "Can you tell me a bit more about you?"

 

She giggled and her hand reached to a strand of hair.

 

"Wellll... I'm like, 20... soon 21... looking for a part time job I can do along with my, like, studies."

 

"Oh. What are you studying?", he wondered out loud.

 

Another giggle and she answered: "I'm like, in a business school."

 

She noticed his eyes widening. He didn't believe her. So, she added:

"It's like, sooo hard."

 

"I imagine. Sorry but, uh... are you... putting on an act right now?"

 

Busted, she thought. Maybe she didn't need to keep the act up with management? She should've asked Kessler. She decided to keep it up but tone it down a bit.

 

"What do you mean?", she asked, giggling. "I'm just me."

 

He only answered with a smile before changing topic:

"Do you have any experience in the hospitality industry?"

 

Lucy HAD some kind of experience because she worked as a camgirl. But she couldn't mention that... could she?

 

"Like... not really.", she decided to say.

 

The manager told her it was ok and explained what the job would entail. She just needed to greet the guest, make them feel welcomed, guide them to their table. Take special care of the high rollers. And pair them with strippers. She could do that, she thought.

Her first shift would be Wednesday night, a lighter mid-week night where she could learn the ropes paired with a lead hostess, from 7PM to 2:30AM. Then Friday and Saturday night, from 8PM to 4AM.

 

"Okay. And like, what should I wear?", she enquired.

 

"Clubbing clothes. Glamorous, sexy, but not too trashy either. You don't want to be mistaken for a stripper. Belly covered. Absolutely no platform heels.", he said, pointing at her shoes. "Keep it classy, no vulgarity."

 

Lucy nodded, not even registering he was basically saying she was dressed like a stripper right now.

 

She signed.

 

***

 

Tuesday after school, she went to the salon, because Sarah insisted on paying for her nails and hair again. Both undeniably needed a touch-up, and she needed to look glamorous for her new job. She trusted Sarah on this. So she agreed to be pampered and came home blonder than ever, her hair packed with a fresh set of highlights. She was also sporting the longest fake nails she ever wore, really doubling the length of her nail bed this time, with elegant white ombré gradient and square tips.

Boys at school seemed to approve, but not because they noticed her manicure (they didn't). In fact, they were drawn magnetically to Lucy because each of her hand gestures was now hyper feminine, constrained by the absurd length of her new acrylics. Every time she typed on her keyboard, used her phone, grabbed something, she now had to do it in a dainty, delicate way that exuded pure grace. It also slowed her down, making her more deliberate in her movements. A lot sexier, especially paired with the giggles she now couldn't hold back each time a male student paid her a bit too much attention. She wasn't in full valley-girl mode at school yet, but was dangerously close. Maybe because every morning she had to make her Instagram post using the bimbo persona, setting the tone for the rest of the day, and maybe also because she was getting influenced by the stream of hyper feminine women she was forced to watch on her feed.

 

In any ways, it was the perfect attitude for her new job. On Wednesday, she dressed with her old black clubbing dress: not the ultra short one Kessler had bought her, but another one she had never dared to wear before. She couldn't understand why. Now, she thought that the dress, reaching mid-thighs, was perfectly decent... maybe even a bit too long. On her feet were the new sandals, higher heels without platform, that would torture her feet all night.

 

She shadowed the more experienced hostess. Clients were immediately charmed. Her obviously forced ditzy attitude was a hit because it was combined with her genuine innocent persona, her shy natural smile and a glint in her eye that was not cynical or hollow like most workers in strip clubs. The white pill also helped her relax and have fun.

Once she got the hang of the job, the hours passed quickly. The only problem was the amount of walking involved, from the entrance to the seating area indicated on her iPad, and back to the door to guide the next client... Sometimes, if they were VIP, she had to sit with them for a bit, laugh at their jokes. They were all respectful, because the door girl and the bouncer were filtering the drunks or rowdier people. She didn't hate it, the job and the place a lot more normal than what she anticipated. Again, she liked the attention, slowly getting used to being desired, especially as an inaccessible hostess. But the real stars of the night were the strippers, and she couldn't help but be mesmerized by them. When they danced, it seemed like an effortless display of pure female sensuality.

 

She skipped class Thursday morning and pushed through the week, working even longer hours Friday and finally managed to finish Saturday, her feet covered in blisters. These last two days had been a LOT more intense than Wednesday and the more the nights progressed, the more normal it became for Lucy to see naked ladies grinding against a pole or a client. It desensitized her mind to nudity and sex work even further, reinforcing the normalization already triggered by hours of watching porn and sluts on her Instagram feed.

However, she felt something else during this two days. Compared to the quieter Wednesday, Friday and Saturday made her feel... small. The club was so busy that nobody really had time for her. She was like an anonymous helper connecting important people: the clients and the strippers. Not her. She was a side character, watching the prettier girls having fun, getting covered in cash while her feet were screaming in pain, getting paid by the hour. It was unfair. She could be as hot as them, couldn't she? Wasn't she? After all, she was getting showered in attention at school. And every day, people in her Instagram DM couldn't stop sending her messages saying how hot she was. She tried to imagine herself, dancing on stage, naked. Naked? Impossible. She remembered she was only pretending to be hot. She was a fraud, cheating by wearing padding. Contrary to the powerful woman dancing on the pole, who could flaunt her round tits and bouncy ass, she had nothing to shake. If only... if only her tits weren't so small.

 

At one point, one of the performers noticed how she was staring at them and made a joke that resonated with her for a long time. The joke was: what is the difference between a hostess and a stripper? Two weeks...

 

Something happened later on Saturday, when she was especially exhausted and felt so insignificant next to the beautiful dancers commanding everyone's attention. One client who had one drink too much suddenly pressed his hand against her lower back. And she let him. She didn't know how to react, paralyzed, surprised by the abrupt touch, especially since his eyes stayed glued to another girl performing on stage. He lowered it to caress her ass, not even looking at Lucy while fondling her. That made his bold move look casual, as if he was just casually touching a piece of furniture. But thankfully another staff member noticed and he was promptly shoved out the door.

This incident, very minor compared to all the abuses she had endured until now, still left her shocked and almost mute for the rest of her shift, that was fortunately almost over. Nobody really noticed, explaining her lack of energy by the late hour. She hadn't been shocked by the stranger's touch, but by her own lack of reaction, and the vague prospect that, maybe, she had, somewhat... enjoyed it?

 

On Sunday, she woke up to a text from Kessler, telling her it was time to show "the result of her homework". She understood immediately what he wanted: a blowjob. The blowjob she was supposed to train for with the gigantic dildo.

Sarah seemed to be out, so she decided to practice a bit more. She attached the toy's suction cup on the mirror, tossed a pillow and knelt down on it. The reflection staring back was a mess. Her hair looked like dry straw, she had dark circles under her eyes and worry lines across her forehead. Lucy felt ugly, failing to notice she was comparing an exhausted messy bedhead look to her usual heavily filtered Instagram videos or when she was wearing makeup.

Still, she didn't come here to dwell on her looks, so she moved her head forward, opening her lips to let the fake cock through, deeper, and deeper, until... until the door swung open behind her.

 

"Uuuuh? Lucy? What are you doing?"

 

It was the voice of the blonde friend, who was entering the apartment with Sarah and another girl.

 

Lucy almost choked on the toy, removing her throat from it and falling into a violent coughing fit. The three girls looked at her, amused. When she finally caught her breath, the blonde repeated: "What are you doing?"

 

"I'm... I'm practicing.", said Lucy, looking at Sarah for help. Sarah just smiled even more. She loved how desperate and pathetic Lucy looked.

 

"You're... practicing...", repeated the girl. Then, her face lit up: "I love it! What a good idea!"

 

Lucy smiled weakly, not knowing if the blonde was sincere or not. She was right to doubt her: in truth, the heavily tattooed girl found the act perfectly disgusting and was only pretending because she liked making Lucy the butt of the joke.

 

Sarah ushered her friends toward the living room, saying to Lucy: "Don't mind us, you can continue practicing! We've all been there. Just... please remember to clean the mirror when you're done this time."

 

Lucy nodded and resumed her efforts, halfway convincing herself she got the approval of the group of sex workers, not realizing she was slowly turning into the biggest slut of the bunch.

 

***

At school the next day, she couldn't shake the feeling of inadequacy that lingered since  working at the club. Sure, here she was easily one of the hottest girls on campus and many male students lusted over her, but she was expecting it by now. And their attention barely had any worth since they were just young, horny boys ready to go after anything with a pulse. And the other girls on campus didn't make any effort at all, so being the prettiest here didn't amount to much either. She was annoyed all day, secretely wishing to go back to the club.

 

In the evening, following Kessler's instructions, she arrived in front of a perfectly ordinary residential building. This Monday night, he didn't want to meet her in his office. For some reason (maybe because they reached some sort of agreement?, she thought), he ordered her to his home, as if she was some kind of escort girl. A call girl. A prostitute.

In the back of her mind, she knew she wasn't far, exchanging sexual favors for gifts and good grades, but she didn't want to admit it. She was just having some kind of secret deal with this powerful teacher. She didn't even tell Sarah or Leena about this. And, tonight, she was ready to go even further than before.

 

The pill she had taken on the bus coming here had left her relatively calm. So, she rang the bell.

 

Her teacher opened a side door leading through a garden:

"Welcome Lucy. Did you find the house easily?"

 

"Yes...", she answered without thinking, navigating along the uneven stone pathway. She tried to keep her eyes open, to get as much information as she could. The garden was not his own, it seemed to be some common area. She could see his duplex apartment just in front, through a glass door. It looked good, big for a single occupant, but a bit impersonal.

 

"What did you say Lucy?", he asked.

 

She corrected herself:

"Oh! I mean... Like, omg daddy it was sooo hard! But I found it!"

 

"Very good.", he answered, inviting her to go inside.

 

The glass door opened to a plain living room. He went to the kitchen to get her a drink. She sat on the gray couch, opening her legs automatically, then closing them when she realized, then reopening them again, rightly assuming that he would want a peek of her panties under her miniskirt. She heard some noise upstairs. The neighbours, probably.

 

He came back with red wine and sat next to her on the couch. She looked at her glass, hesitating.

 

"Drink it.", he ordered.

 

Since it was an order... it was easy to comply, so she drank a bit. She wasn't really used to drinking wine. The taste was bitter, astringent but she liked the sudden warmth that followed.

 

"How do you find your new job so far?", he asked casually.

 

She took another a sip of wine before answering:

"Like, omg daddy this job is like... soooo fun!"

 

"Glad to hear it. Do they like you there?"

 

She paused, thinking how to approach that topic in her valley girl persona.

"Like... yes they like me I think... but everybody is like, so busy."

 

"Oh? I thought they'd be all over you.", he said distractedly, drinking.

 

"Like, Wednesday, yes... but not really on Friday or Saturday."

 

He didn't answer. She continued, her tongue untied by the wine:

"All eyes are on the strippers, not me..."

 

"What a bunch of idiots", he answered. Then, he added: "You're so pretty."

 

Something lighted up in Lucy's heart. It was the first time she heard a man say that to her, like that. Sure, she had been complimented a lot since she started dressing better, but, hearing that from a man, from this man that gave her so much pain as well as pleasure, was something different.

 

He moved closer, next to her, until their bodies were touching, and gently brushed her hand with his own. The touch made her shiver with pleasure. That was starting. What he called here for. Their eyes locked, their face getting closer and closer for a kiss that became passionate. His other hand brushed her naked thigh and moved up, to her panties, the red panties he bought her, to touch her, to rub her. Soon, she was screaming in pleasure as he was fingering her, wet squishy sounds filling the room.

She touched his hard bulge, half because she wanted it, half because she wanted to be done with that.

 

But he stopped her.

 

"I told you today you would get to practice. But not like that. Are you ready?"

 

She nodded, then remembered the kind of ridiculous stuff she was supposed to say:

 

"Like, yes daddy, I'm like, sooo ready."

 

"Good. Follow me to the bedroom."

 

Heart beating, she moved upstairs, her heels clacking against wooden steps. He knocked then, after a while, pushed the door open to let her enter first. Her breath stopped.

 

Inside was a stranger. A young man, dressed in business clothes, wearing a white full-face mask, standing near a door.

 

Kessler encouraged her:

"Well, go on. You're here to practice aren't you?"

 

She understood. He wanted her to give this anonymous guy a blowjob. What an idiot, she admonished herself. She thought she was having some intimate moment with her teacher, but she forgot how cold, calculative he was.

 

She turned to Kessler.

 

"Like... I'm not sure I can...I'm not sure I can do that..." she weakly protested.

 

But he gently pushed her toward the guy.

 

"You can. Go on.", he instructed. "Give him a compliment, and try to get one from him. Like we practiced."

 

She nodded. Like they practiced. The training took over.

 

"Oooh, mister, you're like, so muscular...", she said. He wasn't particularly muscular, maybe in the upper normal range at most. "Do you... do you like meee?", she said, pouting.

 

The man agreed with his head.

 

"Good job. He's forbidden from speaking. Now, touch him. The arm, the chest..."

 

She moved forward and put a trembling hand on his chest, feeling his warm, hard pectoral muscles. Through the mask, she could see his black eyes, but couldn't understand his expression. Was it desire? Anticipation? Fear? Abd who was this young guy? Why was he masked?

 

"Check if he's hard. Never take a man's cock out if it's not hard.", instructed Kessler.

 

She moved her hand down, on the anonymous guy's crotch. Nothing. It was like he had nothing down there. She looked at her teacher. He was amused.

 

"Why do you look at me? Make him hard!"

 

"How?", she asked stupidly.

 

"Rub him, tease him... you should know."

 

She didn't really know. She wasn't the experienced slut Kessler thought she was. She turned her attention back to the silent, masked man and started to rub his crotch over his pants. Getting closer to him, she purred:

"Do you like, like me mister? I find you sooo sexy."

 

Something was hardening in her hand. She tried to remember the hundreds of pornographic scenes she had watched.

 

"Ooh... somebody is liking it...", she said with a soft giggle.

 

Soon, she was rubbing a very visible bulge.

 

"Now, get to work.", ordered her teacher.

 

She carefully moved down to her knees on the carpeted floor. She wished he could give her a cushion but didn't dare to ask. Still trembling, she struggled to open the button of his dress pants, fumbling several times because of her long nails

 Finally, she managed, and lowered the zipper. Through the underwear, the bulge was even bigger, throbbing, and smelling musky. With precaution, she removed his boxers, liberating an impressive shaft of flesh.

But it was impressive only because she was so close to it. Objectively, he was pretty standard sized, maybe half of Jürgen's huge cock.

With her right hand, she pushed the penis up to lick under it. She hated to put this smelly thing so close to her nose so she tried not to breathe in. He tasted salty, manly. She reached the top and opened her mouth to engulf him completely, pushing the hard rod of flesh through her throat, further, and further... She was shocked when the tip of her nose felt something fuzzy. Somehow, she had reached the end already! So easily.

So, she extended her tongue and proceeded to lick his balls.

 

"Oh fuck... oh fuck...", he whimpered, unable to control himself. Lucy's training with the gigantic dildo and real practice with Jürgen really had made her skilled at deepthroating. She couldn't handle gigantic porn cocks but she had zero trouble handling this guy's average sized dick.

 

"Don't forget to touch yourself", Kessler reminded her.

 

Right, she thought. Luxy moved her free hand under her skirt and stroked her pussy through her wet panties. It was feeling so good... She felt simultaneously like one of these porn whore she liked to watch AND the spectator masturbating to it.

 

She moved her head back, playing with the frenulum, then pushed her throat around the member again, then back again... basically expertly masturbating him with her throat, effortlessly playing with his most sensitive spots while her hand was dancing on her pussy, stroking her clit.

 

For the guy, it felt like heaven, like a perfectly hot, wet tube of flesh dedicated to pleasuring his cock, magnified by how hot Lucy looked, with her perfect face, her slutty clothes and tattoos, her naughty eyes...

 

"FUCK! FUCK!"

 

He couldn't resist long. In under 2 minutes, hot, salty sperm filled Lucy's mouth. She had not choice but to swallow this first load, then pulled his penis out, letting him spurt his load on her face but kept playing with the underside of his cock head as he was cumming without any sign of stopping. The whole time, she continued stroking herself.

 

"VERY good. Congratulations Lucy, you pass.", announced Kessler.

 

She looked at him from below, her face covered in thick, white cum, with a desperate, pleading expression. The hand between her legs accelerated. She moaned. She wanted to cum. She didn't care about the anonymous man that was watching her. She wanted more.

From the guy's perspective, Lucy was a complete slut, getting herself off by the very act of sucking a complete stranger.

 

***

 

A while later, she was in his kitchen, cleaning herself up as much as she could with some tissue paper. She didn't manage to cum. She would have to try tonight, using her wand.

 

Kessler appeared at the door:

"You did well today. You deserve a reward don't you think?"

 

She simply replied: "Yes, daddy."

 

"So I'm letting you choose. Either we're getting you the breasts tomorrow, or the grade."

 

Tomorrow?! Her heart skipped a beat. It was so sudden. The grade would be good but... the breasts were worth *ten thousand dollars*. They were RIGHT THERE, she could almost touch them. And it was only one grade. For sure, she could get it later. But the breasts implants? Rejecting this much money, it would be stupid, right? If she chose the grade, and Kessler changed his mind, stopped being interested in her... She would fail her year and would have miss out on the implants completely. Her chance to look normal. She needed them. Now.

 

Kessler asked again:

"So? What is it going to be? Breasts or grade?"

 

Lucy couldn't believe what she was going to say, but it was the rational choice. She anwered:

"Like... I want bigger breasts, daddy."