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The Making Of A Slut free porn video
The Making of a Slut is an excerpt from book 2 - Love’s Masters of The Chronicles of Tim Brandton series. You do NOT need to read The Chronicles of Tim Brandton to enjoy this as it is sufficiently self contained to be a seperate work all by itself.
Monday, January 26th, 1987-5:20 pm-
My name is Leanne White, and I am a high school senior, top of my class, treasurer of my school’s student council for the third year in a row, and a tennis enthusiast. For most of my life, I’ve prided myself on being emotionally calm and having a firm control over any form of my basic instincts, especially those involving mating. But for the past few months, I have been experiencing episodes of increasing unhappiness and loneliness. The episodes became so intense that last week I felt inexplicably motivated to seek out the help of a ‘popular’ sophomore male named Tim Brandton.
Tim Brandton is well known to be an undisciplined, womanizing jock who last year became very wealthy when he was reunited with his millionaire father. I have it on good authority he used his father’s wealth over the summer to gain specialized training and possibly performance enhancing drugs in order for him and two of his friends to get on the junior varsity football team this past fall. I also personally have witnessed him being picked up by two young women in a limo who I suspect were being paid for sexual favors.
The reasons why I sought him out makes more sense now. Tim appears to be some kind of master hypnotist, and at some time, he must have given me the compulsion to seek him out if I was in need of help. During a meeting with him on Friday, he demonstrated his skill by making me toss my shoes and my bra out the window of his private third floor room without me consciously knowing. After using his hypnosis to try and trick me into believing he was a friend I had known in my early childhood, he purposely exposed me to experiencing the primitive mating feelings I have always avoided by having me witness him and his girlfriend engage in foreplay that went further than they intended.
At first, I thought this had helped relieve the strain I hadn’t realized I was under. Exposing myself to those feelings had somehow made me feel better, and it gave me a whole new perspective in understanding my classmates who are unable or unwilling to resist such emotions. But all weekend long, I struggled internally against the primitive feelings this awakened inside me, and I could feel what I now call my animal self growing stronger as the weekend progressed.
Today the degradation of my self-control accelerated beyond the simple urges to touch myself and flashbacks of the sexual experiences I had on Friday. Concentration was disrupted repeatedly by momentary glances at the boys in my classes, followed by staring, then progressed to daydreams about them. At lunchtime, I managed to make it to a stall before taking off my undergarments and fighting the urge to touch my sexual organs.
After lunch, I continued to have problems focusing my attention on my classwork. During sixth period, I momentarily lost all control twice while daydreaming about Ian Sikeston’s nude rear end and had almost touched it once before getting a hold of myself.
I had no other option but to go to Tim Brandton and beg him for his aid. I am uncertain whether he truly was trying to help me Friday, or somehow caused my condition for his own perverted reasons. Whatever the case, I feel he is the only person who can help me regain control of my animal self.
In order to take back control, I must thoroughly explore all of those primitive feelings my animal self is using against me. To do that, I must become the type of person I personally loathe. I have asked Tim to guide me in becoming a slut, something he seems exceptionally qualified for based on everything I know about him.
This journal is my attempt to ensure what I go through is not in vain. If for some reason the entries in this journal stop without explanation, I urge whoever finds this to take it to the authorities and have Tim Brandton investigated immediately. You may be my only hope.
Tuesday, January 27th, 1987-1:30 pm-
This morning, Tim took me to Burger King and treated me to breakfast. I don’t know how he could have known I hadn’t eaten, and I think he also knew I had overslept and had rushed to meet him on the third floor at school on time. He told me we could make eating breakfast together a regular thing if I wished, and said it would give us a chance to discuss what we would do each day. I agreed, thinking I would simply have to get up a half-hour earlier each day. When he asked if meeting here at 7:30 was too early, I realized he was talking about having breakfast during class time.
I learned that Tim had discussed my situation with our principal Dr. Higgs and somehow arranged for me to miss as much class time as necessary until we finished my training. When I asked how he could miss his first class, not to mention all his classes, on a regular basis, Tim explained he was the subject of an experimental program allowing him to work independently while taking eight classes. He basically could write his own hall passes, and as long as he didn’t disturb the other students, he could come and go in the classrooms his classes were in as he pleased.
Despite my intuition telling me to trust him, I cannot simply overlook the way he seems to do whatever he wishes without anyone questioning it. I have no logical explanation for his strange abilities and have a growing concern he is far more powerful(?) than what I have seen so far.
I am somewhat confused by his insistence that my training will not be as simple as I believe it to be. I am quite prepared to carry out any task he gives me. It should be simply a matter of performing the motions necessary to stimulate pleasurable sensations. Tim told me that he would give me as much time as I needed to get comfortable in performing a task before going on to the next lesson, but I said it shouldn’t be necessary.
After we finished eating, we went back to his ... the word “penthouse” comes to mind. He has the keys to two small classrooms on the third floor. The floor is normally only used for a new peer based tutor program Dr. Higgs spearheaded this year of which Tim and a number of his friends are intimately involved in. Yes, a penthouse is a very good description for one of those rooms. I’m certain it is used mostly for his sexual activities. Along with a mini-fridge, a chest of drawers, a table, and a pair of armchairs, the room has a couch I suspect has a hide-a-bed in it.
My first lesson is surprisingly simple. Nudity. I am to strip naked whenever I am alone and get used to going without clothes. He asked me if I had a full-size mirror in my room, then handed me a one hundred dollar bill and told me to buy one and use it to look at myself while I’m naked. He had to say my name three times before I heard him, and then he simply told me to go buy it and then go home and start practicing.
That was three hours ago. I had a small problem finding a mirror big enough and expensive enough to purchase, but he gave me the money, and after seeing how much money he carried around, there was no way I was going to give him back any change. So now I’m sitting at my desk, nude, after spending twenty minutes staring at my naked body in the mirror. I fail to see what this is supposed to accomplish, but I’m determined to follow it through to the letter. Time for lunch. I suppose it is safe to go into my own kitchen nude without anyone seeing me. No one is home.
-7:10 pm-I HATE going without clothes! I’ve been chilled all day, I have scratched myself in more places than I can count, I spilled HOT coffee down my front and into my lap, my breasts hurt from going so long without the support of a bra, and worst of all, I’m starting to notice how ugly my body is while I’m staring at myself in that mirror. I don’t really care about that, but I can’t help but notice how unattractive I am. I wonder what Tim will say once he sees me.
Wednesday, January 28th, 1987-9:40 am-
Tim told me to not worry about the little imperfections of my body because everyone has them and no one but themselves ever really notices them. I couldn’t help but feel relieved by that.
After we ate, he asked me if I had touched myself while looking in the mirror. I told him of course not. So he sent me home again and told me to try it once, but not to force myself to do it afterward unless I naturally felt like doing it.
I must be doing something wrong. I know masturbation is supposed to be very pleasurable, but the only thing I feel while using my finger to stimulate my vagina is a tickling sensation that doesn’t last but for a moment. After that, I feel extremely foolish lying on my back with my finger going in and out of my vagina. And touching my clitoris does nothing.
-1:00 pm-I felt I was getting nowhere, so at lunchtime, I got dressed and went back to school to talk to Tim. I couldn’t believe it. He was actually in class. I went to the office to ask Marion (one of the secretaries who insists I call her by her first name) if she could look up what classroom he was in. But as soon as I walked in, Dr. Higgs asked me if I needed to talk to Tim, then had Tim called to the office for me. I half expected him to offer us his office to talk in, but it never happened.
While we went up to his penthouse, I realized I was feeling very foolish again. I was about to ask a boy if I was ‘playing with myself’ correctly. He nearly had to drag it out of me after we got to the room.
After I explained what I had been doing, he told me as far as he could tell I hadn’t done anything wrong. Then I swore I felt something touch my mind. I can’t explain what it felt like, but after it came and went, Tim told me he believed my animal was blocking the pleasure I was supposed to feel.
Again I felt relieved. I now consider this to be strange because it means I will have to ask him whether I am doing something right instead of knowing it because it felt good. At the time, however, I was just happy that I hadn’t been doing it wrong and that it had been something I couldn’t be faulted for.
He asked me if I felt ready to have him in the room while I was nude. I was shocked. Of course, I knew that was what he was working towards, but for some reason I couldn’t believe he was asking me so quickly. He saw how shocked I was and told me I could wait until tomorrow but shouldn’t put it off much longer than that.
So I’m going to spend the rest of the day imagining it is Tim looking at me instead of just my reflection in that mirror. I have noticed one thing since I have gotten back from talking to him. My breasts have stopped hurting, and when I examined them, my nipples got hard. I’m going to experiment a little with my nipples. I’m stroking one right now, and it feels a little comforting. Perhaps my animal is letting me feel a little bit of the pleasure?
-3:00 pm-I can’t seem to stop playing with my nipples. It does feel nice, but nothing extraordinary. I just keep getting this feeling that I’m right on the edge of making it feel really good. My sister is due home any time now, so I need to get dressed for a little while. I’ll be able to get back to my work right after dinner.
-10:00 pm-My nipples hurt from all my efforts. I’ve spent so much time trying to get something more out of my nipples that I haven’t imagined Tim watching me at all. I hope I can go through with this tomorrow.
Thursday, January 29th, 1987-5:30 pm-
I didn’t want to, but I did it. Tim was very understanding of how nervous I felt. I’m starting to believe he is sincere in trying to help me without having some kind of ulterior motive.
We ate breakfast together as usual, but I wasn’t very hungry. He told me to relax and think about how ugly the rather large woman who was sitting three tables over from us gobbling down her own breakfast would look naked. The image flashed through my head, and I couldn’t help but laugh. Tim gave me the strangest look when I did that. I’m not sure what it meant.
He asked how things went yesterday, and I told him all about my nipples and how frustrated I had been last night. He said not to worry. If nothing else, I had learned how to lose myself in self-pleasure. I argued with him about that. I didn’t lose myself. I had set my mind to a task just like any other. He didn’t believe me.
I started to feel a little sick when we got up to leave. I used to calm my nerves with just a moment of concentration, but today nothing I tried worked. All Tim had to do was look me in the eyes for a minute, and I swear my anxiety went away just by looking into those pretty blue-green eyes of his.
I was back to being a nervous wreck by the time we got to his room at school. He unlocked the door, then held it open, telling me to get undressed and he would be back in a moment. He suggested that I pretend I was in a doctor’s office waiting for him to give me a checkup.
It didn’t help. I nearly left before I put my foot down, took a deep breath, and took everything off like I was rushing to jump into the shower. I stood there waiting for a good ten minutes before sitting down on his couch, and after another twenty minutes of waiting, I started to get mad.
That was when I realized I had been pinching my nipples without thinking about it. I actually got excited that I had done something so primitive that I started using both hands. And it happened! I felt something wonderful shoot through me for just a moment, and then it was gone.
I completely forgot about waiting for Tim, and suddenly he was watching me from the door. I had been so involved in trying to get that feeling back that I hadn’t noticed him come in.
And instead of feeling ashamed, I told him what had happened like it had been the greatest discovery ever made. He told me I had done well, and that I was ready to finish this lesson.
My excitement vanished, and all I felt at that point was a slight discomfort in my nipples from being twisted so hard. I couldn’t help feel he had somehow planned everything and had known ahead of time what I went through.
He had me turn around slowly, giving him a good long look at my body. I felt his eyes examining every inch of my skin, noting every mark, every bulge, every little imperfection. I felt completely degraded, embarrassed, and wanted very badly to put my clothes on and leave.
He had me move into different positions, some quite natural, some very unnatural. The worst were the ones where he took very close examinations of my anus and vagina. He spent the whole morning looking at me in every way imaginable. My discomfort grew less and less until I was simply feeling rather bored. He was examining my anus again when I felt my hand kneading my breast out of habit.
I was very close to feeling that sensation I had felt earlier, and I didn’t even hesitate to use my other hand on my other nipple. I guess I must have made too much movement because I suddenly saw Tim’s face smiling at me as he sat down on the couch to watch.
I started to lose that feeling very quickly because of that, so I shut my eyes and concentrated on bringing that feeling back. I can’t believe I started imagining what I would look like in the mirror, but I didn’t stop because it was working.
I’m twisting my nipples right now, and each time I look at myself in the mirror, I can feel it get a little closer. Is this what a slut does when she’s alone? Watch herself twist and pinch her nipples, trying to get that wonderful feeling to shoot through her again? I’ve done it six times today, and each time it gets a little easier.
After I made that feeling shoot through me twice, Tim told me I needed to open my eyes and watch him watch me as I did it. I couldn’t even get the feeling to start as I did it that way, so Tim had me stop for a while, and we ate lunch together in the room. I didn’t even think about the fact I was eating lunch with him nude until I had finished my sandwich and was wiping the crumbs off my lap.
I can see now that Tim had been desensitizing me to being nude in front of him all that time he had been staring at me. I honestly wasn’t the least bit embarrassed when he had me spread my legs and show him my vaginal lips. He gave me this wonderful smile when he saw I had passed his test with flying colors. I feel a strange duality about that. I feel very proud of my accomplishment, but I also feel I have betrayed myself. I’m not sure which of the two I should believe.
Tim asked me whether I was ready to move on to the next lesson or if I wanted to try and get that feeling back while watching him watch me. I’m glad I chose the next lesson.
My second lesson is to get used to feeling him touch every inch of my body. That scared me, but Tim gave me another one of his smiles and started immediately with the lesson. I never knew how comforting someone’s hand could be just brushing my cheek.
After a few minutes of his soft hands on my cheeks and neck, he must have seen my fear dissolve because I found his hands were moving down my entire body. I felt like I had been thrown into ice water, and he immediately withdrew when I shuddered and stiffened.
Tim apologized and asked me to lie down on the couch, so I did. I felt very uneasy again, but Tim started giving me a foot massage, and I really liked that. When he saw how relaxed that made me, he suggested trying my nipples again while watching him work on my feet.
I did it, but only because I imagined watching myself in the mirror.
I just did it again. But this time, I felt my feet tingle like they had while Tim massaged them. I’m going to try it again.
I give up. I’ll try again later after dinner.
-9:20 pm-I’m getting better at this. I’ve only made my feet tingle twice, but I’ve had that shooting feeling three times in the past hour. I’m going to bed now. I’m exhausted.
Friday, January 30th, 1987-2:50 pm-
This was the longest day I’ve had in my life. I told him everything that I experienced yesterday while we ate breakfast and was only a little nervous when I got undressed in front of him back in the room. He did my feet again while I got my nipples feeling good, and actually had two back to back. I couldn’t believe it.
But then he insisted we move on to the rest of the second lesson. I hoped I would get used to it just like the nudity thing, but he never did anything long enough to let me get used to it. I feel so numb. He touched me, pinched me, and slapped me just hard enough to sting but not actually physically hurt me. He didn’t do anything to my nipples, vagina, or anus, though.
I broke down and cried once, and Tim did everything but promise not to do it anymore to make me stop. I want to believe he hates putting me through this, but I can see how aroused he gets while he’s doing it, and I feel so horrible because he does. I’m not angry, I’m just lonely. I thought Tim was someone who I could trust not to let his sexual urges get the better of him.
He spent the entire day doing these things to me, never touching me with anything but his hands. Before he let me leave, he gave me some homework for next week.
I have a black plastic penis in my mouth right now as I write this. I’m supposed to learn how to keep it in my mouth while I sleep, and in general, get used to the feel of it and start practicing taking it into my throat without gagging. I’ve heard that some girls take it in their mouths, but I never imagined anyone but the most barbaric people doing it.
The only comfort I have right now is my wonderful nipples. I stroke and pinch them every moment I get. Oh, my God. I can’t believe I wrote that and meant it. I also love that mirror, and I just realized I got naked without thinking about it when I got home today. Do I really enjoy going nude?
Sunday, February 1st, 1987-10:00 am-
My sister caught me yesterday while I was naked in my room playing with my nipples. I must have looked scared to death when she asked me what I was doing. She’s only in eighth grade and already wears the same size bra I do. We are complete opposites Jane and I. She’s already gone to a few dances with boys, and I wouldn’t be at all surprised if she has already allowed one of her several boyfriends to ‘feel her up’.
I could have died when she got this funny look in her eye and started to take her shirt and bra off. She asked me to show her what I had been doing, then promised up and down that she would never tell anyone. I never had trusted Jane before, but something about the way she acted made me believe her.
My mother is out of town for the weekend, and my father knows better than enter a girl’s room without knocking and waiting, so Jane and I spent the whole afternoon trying to make her feel that wonderful shooting feeling. She even stripped the rest of the way and watched herself in the mirror like I do.
Jane finally gave up and just asked me to do it for her. We had an argument that led to her suddenly reaching out and giving my left one a hard pinching twist. The shooting feeling lasted nearly three times longer than anything I have felt before or since and made my legs and arms tingle afterward.
Jane begged me to do it to her after seeing the effect on me. I did, and she peed on my bed from having her first shooting feeling. Jane and I spent the night in her bed pinching and twisting each other’s nipples until we were so tired, she didn’t even put her nighty on like she had said. I have to go. Jane wants me again.
-8:30 pm-It’s been a wonderful day. Jane and I spent the entire afternoon talking about everything. I never have had such a feeling of closeness with anyone before. I want to tell her about the training I’m going through so badly, but for some reason, I can’t. I try, but nothing happens. Tim has done something to me, I’m sure of it. After finally finding a friend in my sister, I think I won’t need to go through Tim’s training. I’m going to tell him tomorrow that I’ve decided I don’t need his help.
Monday, February 2nd, 1987-10:00 pm-
I HATE HIM! He told me I made a deal and I had agreed to see it all the way through. But then he told me he wasn’t going to force me to do anything and warned me that no matter what I feel right now, it wouldn’t last and my problems would come back.
Tim let me go back to class, and I thought that was the end of it. But he was right! I hate him for that. By lunchtime, I was not only staring at the guys but the girls too! I kept wondering if they had ever had their nipples twisted!
I went home during lunch and played with my nipples in front of the mirror until Jane got home. She had taken off her top and bra before she got to my room, and as soon as I saw her, I started crying.
Jane comforted me as best she could, and even cried herself when I couldn’t tell her what was wrong. I was the first one to start the nipple pinches after I sobered up a little, but when she did it to both of my nipples at the same time, something inside of me grabbed control.
Jane struggled to pull me off her when my mouth clamped around her nipple. When I managed to get control again, Jane ran from my room, telling me to say away from her.
She hasn’t spoken to me all evening. I’ve cried so many times I had to change my pillowcases; they were so wet. I even heard Jane crying once. I’m so miserable. I’ve lost my best friend that I only had for two days. And the worst part is, I can’t stop twisting my nipples!
Tuesday, February 3rd, 1987-2:20 pm-
Tim and I met for breakfast as if nothing had happened. But by the time we had reached the restaurant, I was crying into his shoulder. We had taken his car, and he held me for a long time after I finished crying. I’m not sure if he puts on some kind of cologne or if it’s the clothes detergent, the soap he uses, or what. Even after everything he has put me through, I think he smells good.
He seemed distracted while we ate, and I have to admit I was a little too. I couldn’t get rid of the feeling that I was about to have something wonderful happen to me.
I don’t know where that came from because it never happened. I spent the entire day with a plastic penis in my mouth while he did his touching, pinching, and slapping. I don’t know if it was because I was already miserable or because I was starting to get used to it, but it didn’t seem as bad today as it had Friday.
-7:30 pm-Jane and I made up! And I was able to tell her everything! I don’t think she believes it all, but she said if I don’t force myself on her like that again, she would probably be okay with it. I misunderstood what she meant about that, and nearly pushed her off the bed when she started to suck on my right breast.
She was very disappointed when I told her I didn’t like it. She pleaded with me to do it to her, and I did it just to please her. I was so relieved when she admitted it wasn’t doing anything for her either, so we’re happy as clams just pinching each other’s nipples.
Jane even tried my black dildo out in her mouth, then teased me by pressing it up to her vagina. I think I had turned white when she did that because she hasn’t done it again since.
I’m so happy again. I was right about something wonderful happening. I can’t wait to tell Tim in the morning.
Wednesday, February 4th, 1987-2:30 pm-
Tim was all smiles when I told him about Jane. He’s so sensitive to my needs and even gave me a small kiss on the forehead. I felt as if I could have exploded with happiness. And I agreed with him not to tell Jane too much about my future lessons. I don’t want my little sister becoming a slut too.
I’m starting to get used to Tim’s handling. I’m not going to say I like it, but it really isn’t anything horrible about it. He hasn’t hurt me, and he does give me these wonderful foot rubs that make my nipples stick out so far he asked me if I would mind if he nibbled them. I reminded him about Jane’s attempt, but he insisted.
I was just about to tell him to stop when he bit me. It felt as good as Jane twisting both my nipples. He did it to the other one, then explained that if he did it too much, I wouldn’t get anything from my nipple twisting. I already had noticed how little twisting my own nipples were doing for me. I can still get the shooting feeling, but it just doesn’t satisfy me like it once had.
He had to leave and take a test during third hour but left me to practice my deep throating I hadn’t been doing. My throat hurts from doing that, but Tim told me to make sure I kept doing it as much as possible, so I’m moving it in and out of my throat as I write.
Jane’s home. I’ll finish writing the rest of my lesson down later.
-9:20 pm-Jane wants me to get her a dildo like mine. She’s forcing me to agree to get her one by refusing to twist my nipples until I do. I’m so torn between my feelings of protecting my sister from corruption and my need for her attention and friendship. I’ll have to talk it over with Tim tomorrow. If anything else maybe he’ll let me take the dildo at school home for Jane as long as I bring it to school every day.
-10:00 pm-I nearly forgot. After we ate lunch, Tim said I was ready to let him fondle my private parts. He got out some body oil and oiled me up all over, then started kneading my breasts. I hate myself for loving that. I can’t believe I let out a moan. But his hands felt so good! I didn’t care for the anal and vagina rubs, though. They felt degrading.
Thursday, February 5th, 1987-2:50 pm-
I’m not sure, but I think I’m starting to enjoy his touches. If it wasn’t for all of the pinches and slaps, I would really like the long hours he spends on my skin. I’m even starting to rub my body with my own hands to make me feel good. And sometimes he only has to just touch my breasts to give me that shooting feeling. But Tim doesn’t seem to want to touch them anymore. I’m a little concerned that he might be getting tired of me. I hope this lesson ends soon so we can start a new one. I would hate for him to get bored of me.
Jane is home. I guess I better give her the dildo he gave me for her. It’s not as big as mine, but at least I won’t have to take it to school every day.
-9:50 pm-I think Jane is letting herself be taken over by her animal. She spent the day with me learning how to deep throat, and then after I let it slip about the nipple biting, she made me do it to her three times. Why did I do it? She didn’t threaten me or anything. I just gave in and did it. Am I starting to weaken in that respect too?
Marisol
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