The Slutmaker

Sarah was a bit of a whore. She’d admit that. She loved being slutty but never ever got used to the outing of her nature, the judgement that came with it, the consequences etc. She was smart and found an easy way to dispense her revenge. Some would say her targets for her revenge were vulnerable and generally the wrong people to go after, but one of the things she had learned while being given a reputation as a slut is that she really doesn’t care much for what other people think. She was 19 and nearly done with college and as far as she was concerned, everywhere she went, as long as people did not have previous knowledge of her, then she could reinvent herself freely.

Anyway, turning others into sluts, and gifting them a reputation of slut was what had become her new hobby. So she approached John, a shy, beta, nerdy type who she was sure had never been sexually active in his 19 years of life. Needless to say the seduction was routine. She flirted a little, asked questions about him all while touching him and giving physical hints that she wanted him. Even if he had no idea why, he was sure that this woman was coming onto him, and rather aggressively.

She invited him to her car and she drove him to her house, where she lived with her mother and step-father. This was a household that might be called feminist in intentions, possibly matriarchal; in essence, the 2 women were free and comfortable to be themselves, good and bad. This meant that Sarah had a simple sex life. She brought people back to fuck and her mother payed no mind, and vice versa. Sarah had overheard her mother getting it good on many occasions. The system was fair to both. Neither abused it.

“Hey, mother,” Sarah called once inside, “just got a lad with me. We’re going up to my bedroom.”

“No problem, darling, enjoy,” came Ellen’s response.

Ellen looked to get a glimpse of the lad her daughter had brough home and noted her daughter had brought home yet another man who could not be described as typically masculine. Ellen knew that her daughter might be going through a phase where she wants more control in the bedroom and less drama outside of it.

Once inside the bedroom, John took in the smell, a distinctly feminine aroma he had only experienced when women walked past him in daily life. He liked it and hardened a little in his underwear. Sarah lay on the bed and patted beside her. John walked over and lay next to her.

“First time, John?”

“First time for what?” he queried.

“Being in a woman’s room.”

They were both looking up at the ceiling while this conversation occurred.

“Yes, yes it is.”

“Like it so far?”

He nodded, forgetting that he and Sarah had not made eye contact since laying on the bed.

“Well?” she said, now on her side, looking at him.

“I really like it. The smell particularly, also the design; it’s nice to be in a womanly space.”

“Cool,” came her reply. “Now, down to business. You wanna fuck me?”

John nodded.

“You have heard around that I am a slut, I’m easy?”

He nodded to confirm a second time.

“Here’s the thing, that word is lost on me. My journey with it started a while ago and I have processed it. It now no longer hurts me and I do not care who calls me it. I would prefer they did not, but I accept in life, other people are free to share their opinion.”

“I’m with you, that seems very rational. You’re my kind of woman,” John chimed in.

“Brilliant. I like that you like me. Here’s where I am today with that word, I no longer feel like it applies to me. I have taken on a slightly similar but slightly different name: I call myself the slutmaker.”

John reddened in the face, got a little hotter and unnoticably hardened in his underwear again.

Sarah continued, “the people I fuck are the sluts, not me. That is my reality.”

John made his move, moving his hand furthest away from Sarah towards her thigh. She read the move a mile off and deliberately stopped him with her hand on his chest just as he was reaching for contact.

“Sorry,” came a quick apology from the man.

“It’s fine, it’s more than fine; you are a slut, you are controlled by your sexual urges. Agree, slut?”

John’s heart was beating faster. His eyes widened. He cleared his throat.

“I, I,” he stuttered.

Moving her hand to his lips, she stopped him from speaking before interjecting, “no, no, no. You’re a more confident slut than that. Speak the truth boldly. Again.”

“I agree, mommy.”

Sarah tutted and closed her eyes. She had seen this before, in at least five of the previous 17 men she had turned into sluts. The mommy thing.

Opening her eyes back up, she spoke, “not for me. I get it, you’re a slut and who am I to tell a slut what they are into, but I am not your mommy and I do not wish to be. I am a woman, that’s all; a woman who likes to use sluts. You are my slut and I will address you as that or your name; you will address me as my name. Plain and simple, like your slutty mind. How about another nod of agreement?”

He gave her the nod of agreement.

“Fantastic, time to start on your reputation as a slut.”

“Okay, Sarah.”

“Earlier, when I seduced you in college, you went to the bathroom. While you were gone, I went into your phone and scrolled through your contacts. I picked out the people who I want to know you are a slut, there were three of them plus a fourth to ease you in. Would you like to reveal yourself to these people? Does that sound like fun?”

For the first time during their conversation, John shook his head. Sarah had seen this regularly as well.

“Honey, I get it. No one likes revealing it or it being revealed that they are a slut, but often it happens against one’s control. I didn’t like it when my reputation spread. But look at me now, life goes on and memories fade. One day, you will own that word and lifestyle. You could become like me, a slutmaker; but first, you must be the slut which is vulnerable but also thrilling, exciting, natural.”

John leant in for a hug and she consented to this. She, through her extensive slutmaking, knows softness is needed alongside strength.

“There, that hug felt good, comforting, and I predict so, too, will slutdom. Here’s the deal, a slut is always in control and there is no problem with that. In fact, that is the great thing about being a slut, you get to explore vulnerability and submission without going any further than you want. I have four people I want you to call and reveal to them you are what society would call a slut. Call one is a random business, call two is one of your friends, call three is your sibling and the final call is your parents, because they have to know.”

John took his time to digest this daunting information Sarah presented. His dick was now fully erect, pressing up against his underwear and trousers. Sarah could see this. The brain power being used forced John to lay on his back, a more relaxed position. Sarah layed back too. They were now both looking at the ceiling, yet again. Sarah was approaching softly right now and, accordingly, gave John all the time he needed.

Still looking at the ceiling, John reached out for her hand. Again, she consented so she could comfort him in this pressured time.

“Look,” she started, “there is additional information. If you make the first call, I will get naked for you; make the second call, you can get naked; third, and I will give you a blowjob with us both naked; make that fourth phone call and we will fuck. Our beautiful bodies will combine intimately and, most importantly, pleasurably.”

“Can I just make the final call and get everything?”

“You have to go through the stages.”

“I’ll do it, at least starting with the first call.”

“Atta slut, that is the spirit. Go get your phone. I’ll get the list I wrote down.”

They both got what they needed and then reconvened on the bed, this time facing each other with their legs crossed.

“I already put the number in, it’s under ‘slut call 1’.

John scrolled down to the ‘S’ section of his contacts, scooting past his sister’s name in the ‘B’ section. This panicked him but he quickly focused back to the random business call. He selected that name and it rang.

Sarah smiled at him as she heard the ring. He did not smile back, the pressure increasing his hear rate.

“Hello, Diane speaking. Who’s calling?”

John felt great fear for 3 seconds then spoke, the smile on Sarah’s face urging him, “a slut is calling, I’m a slut.” The person on the end of the phone immediately ended the phone call.

John felt shame, humiliation, a little disgust. He had just called a random person and said something inappropriate. He looked to Sarah who was smiling bigger now.

“I’m so proud. That was great. Embrace this feeling, it will eventually fade. By the time you ring your parents, you’ll be sassy with it. Next one is Adam, your buddy. He’s a bit of a dish. Maybe I’ll do him next, but you are here now, so proceed.”

John didn’t even think about claiming his first reward, he just wanted to speed through the next call. He selected the name and the ringing began.

Sarah smiled yet again.

“Hello, Jake, how’s it going?”

This threw John. What the F he thought. Why was Adam calling him Jake, and this didn’t even sound like Jake, it sounded like Fred. His confused brain directed him to confess anyway and expect the win.

“Yeh, buddy, just called to say I’m a slut. Ha, ha.”

Sarah scowled, leaned in to John and whispered, “no backing out, feel proud, eliminate shame, you’re a slut, he needs to know.”

“Couldn’t quite hear you, I’m at a party,” came Fred’s reply.

“I said,” John said louder than before,” I am a slut, a real slut, used and abused and all that, that’s what I’m into.”

“One more time, John, I’m outside of the house now.”

“I am a slut, do you accept me?”

Sarah’s heart broke for her slut. He was already looking to other’s for validation and respect instincively. She motioned with her hand that he could put the phone down. John did not, he waited for Fred’s reply.

“Ah, yes, that’s cool, I love you like a brother, anything legal is fine by me. Being a slut’s legal isn’t it?”

John replied, “it is, thank you for listening.”

Fred ended the call.

Now John was excited and smiling widely. Sarah fed off this energy and hugged him, the second hug making him feel as good as the first.

“Time to get naked, slut. Me too,” commanded Sarah. They both stripped down but this time Sarah sat on the edge of the bed and John followed suit.

“You’re naked on my bed, about to call your sister and tell her you are a slut, having previously phoned a friend to reveal your slutty nature and before that a total stranger; what type of person does that?” Sarah raised an eyebrow.

He replied, “a slut, a slut does that.”

“Well done, you’re so smart and unashamed. I love sluts like that. Make the call.”

He pressed the relevant buttons and just like each time before, the ringing began. It rang once, then twice, then he cancelled the call. He turned to Sarah. She engaged him with a smile, comforting him.

“What just happened? I called Adam and Fred, I’m pretty sure it was Fred who answered. You seem smart so I doubt it was a stupid mistake on your part. Tell me, please.”

“Yah, I’ve done Fred. He was a week ago. I changed your name in his phone to Jake. Take a look on the wall, he’s up there.”

John stood up and moved to a board on the wall Sarah had pointed to. There was a collection of photos, polaroid style on a piece of paper that had the title, ‘Whores Stable.’ Beneath each polaroid picture was the writing ‘slut’ followed by a number, the numbers ranging from 1 to 17.

He turned back to Sarah.

“I’m 18.”

She nodded, “yes, in whores stable, my stable of whores, you are slut number 18, if you comply. Go back and look at the pictures, you may have missed it. What do they all have around their necks?”

He stepped back to the board and saw collars round the necks of the men, some of them his friends. The collar had the word slut studded on it.

“Do you want that collar, slut? Sluts who make it through to the fourth phone call get to wear that collar. Now, on with the third phone call, your sister Brittany.”

John took a moment to comprehend the situation.

He sat down beside the slutmaker and muttered, “yes I want to wear that collar.”

“It’s permanent, I’ve got like 50 of ’em. You can keep it, wear it whenever you want.”

John initiated the phone call to his sister, a real moment of ratcheting up the intensity. ‘His sister,’ he thought, ‘my flesh and blood will know.’

The ringing began and four rings later, Brittany answered.

“Oh, hey Erica, nice to hear from you,” she began.

The penny dropped immediately, the changed name again, John ended the call.

“You want that blowjob, don’t you, at minimum. Admitting your slutdom to your sister secures that.”

He dialled again. Only one ring this time.

“Hello, Erica, the fuck was that?”

“It’s your brother John, I have no idea why I am Erica in your phone but that can be dealt with later. I just wanted to say that I am slut and thought you’d like to know.”

“Like to know?” Brittany questioned. “Probably not, your sex life is yours, mine is mine but I am down with the new school theories of sex positivity and not slut shaming, so I guess I value the honesty, the vulnerability you have shown me. Anything more besides that admission?”

“Yes,” John replied, “how’d do you think Ma and Da would take it?” John mouthed ‘both’ to Sarah to check if both had to know and she mouthed back ‘one’ with a single finger up.

“Ma and Da?”

John interrupted, “either, either one, how would they react do you think?”

“I genuinely have no idea. I took it pretty well and they are pretty modern so maybe they’d prefer not to know of your sexuality but value the honesty nonetheless.”

“Thank you for your help, sis, and again, I’m a slut,” John joyously stated.

She ended the call.

Sarah and John looked into each other’s eyes, feeding off each other’s energy. The energy of revelation, intimacy, happiness. They hugged again and while embraced, John, now feeling like the in control slut he aspired to be, took the initiative by whispering in Sarah’s ear, “one more to go, Ma and Pa must know.”

Sarah really deployed a soft approach now, giving John more space to think as clearly as possible. “They don’t have to know. The slut in you wants them to know, but ultimately it is your choice. You are in control.”

“I feel you backing off, Sarah, and I love that you know how to read the situation. You have pushed when required and cooled off appropriately. I really feel like I am speaking to the first person who really knows me. I feel like I am falling in love with you.”

“That pleases me, slut. I love an in love slut. They’re so maliable, so in tune with themselves.” She was just applying a little pressure so as to not lose the catch. She wanted John to feel like prey being hunted.

“Can you point me to the bathroom, please?” asked John.

“No problem, out the door, across the hall. But, it’s not to masturbate is it? I don’t want you relieving yourself of this sexual tension before mommy and daddy know. I see your strong erection and precum dripping. I want it that way when you come back. Out you go.”

John reached for his underwear.

“No,” Sarah said assertively. “You cross the hall naked. A slut would.”

He nodded, turned around, opened the door and went to the bathroom. On his way back, fully naked, Sarah’s mother walked by him. Embracing his sluttyness, he did not cover up but he did apologise for his lack of clothes.

“No problem, number 17. On your way to my lovely daughter’s room, enjoy.”

Quickly processing the calm approach Sarah’s mother had, he corrected her, “I’m 18 actually.”

Now it was Ellen’s turn to process. “Oh, she’s had another one, good for her. Hard to keep track, to be fair, so many men through this house, her bedroom in particular. Bye now.”

John strode into Sarah’s bedroom, closing the door behind him. He locked eyes with the slutmaker, drifted his eyes to her breasts, then lower towards her abdomen, taking in the pussy on the way down to the knees and finally the feet. He wanted to touch, lick, fuck every part of her body and although his erection subsided during the urination break and the chat with mother, he was growing strong again.

“Catch me, you can fuck me.”

John processed this information from Sarah’s mouth 5 seconds later than normal. He was so involved in the game she was playing, drawing the slut out of him bit by bit that a simple sentence like this bedazzled his brain. When it finally made sense he started chasing her; she jumped over the bed to avoid him, then under the bed, where he struggled under with his bigger frame, not thinking to go around or over, she dodged left and then right before backing up against her door. John, now sweaty, and Sarah the same, panted softly.

“Eyeballs, John, look at mine.”

He looked down as they both stood closely, their naked bodies warm from the activities instigated by Sarah.

“You came into the bedroom after using the toilet, I said ‘catch me, you can fuck me’ and you did, for 25 seconds.”

“Yes, I did, I so desperately want to fuck you.”

“Understandable, completely. Let’s think about this. Your lust led you on a chase for a woman, your erect dick swinging around, you must have scraped it some when crawling under the bed. It was easy for me and I still made contact with my parts. Now, what kind of man does what you just did? Tell me.”

John accepted the inference and replied, “a slut. I am a slut.”

She made her way back to the bed and layed on her back. She held up his phone and waved it side to side.

“Y’know, there’s a reason that slut is an anagram of lust. Lust is what controls you. One more call. Your parent’s need to know who, what their son is.”

John made his way to the bed and layed down, by the side of the slutmaker. He reached for the phone.

“You’re on your own for this one, back to looking at the ceiling, it’s just you and whichever parent you get.”

“Just before that, I was thinking in the bathroom.”

“Go on.”

“My sister thought I was Erica, so that means she is one of your sluts. You fucked her like you fucked Fred and then switched names in the phone. But I don’t see her on the ‘Whores Stable.’ wall.”

“She is not one of my sluts. She has standards for who she hooks up with. I dated her, we fooled around, but before we fooled around we took each other on a few dates, got to know each other. That’s not a slut. You and your slutty kind, however, come to my house on the first day of meeting. That is a slut. Got it?”

“Yes.” John nodded before pressing on his parents’ name in his phonebook.

7 rings and no answer, voicemail was triggered.

“Again,” she insisted.

This time his father answered.

“Hello, son, how you doing?”

“Fine, Dad, fine.”

“Your mother’s not here.”

“It’s just you I need actually. You’re a modern guy, feminist type, etc aren’t you?”

“I’d say so. I’m pretty down with progress.”

“Yes, so you know gender roles dismantled, reduced, diminished etc, women on the up, sexuality free and stuff like that?”

“Sounds fine.”

“Well, along that line of thinking, I’m a slut, are you proud?”

“Uh, if you’re happy, I’m happy, I’m neither proud or not proud. I don’t think your sister Brittany is a slut but that doesn’t mean I’m not proud of her. I’m down with modernity but progress is freedom, right? So if you are free to be a slut and happy, then I like your lifestyle. Weird to discuss but no problem.”

John began to leak a tear from his left eye, which Sarah could not see with her looking up at the ceiling and John doing the same.

“Thank you, Dad, that was awesome to hear, I love you.”

“Love you too, son. Enjoy your life.”

John started to sob a little along with tears being released. Sarah immediately responded with a hand squeeze before mounting her slut, slowly rubbing her pussy against his cock and balls being careful to avoid penetration.