The Tolerant
Chapter Thirteen

	<I>Dear stupid little meddling evil bitch,
	I heard about what happened with you and DJ – your little temper tantrum, and him tossing you out on your skinny little ass. I have a good idea of what you must be going through. Lost your job, lost your man, lost your purpose… nothing left but to live out your days knowing that you’re a totally evil person, all the way down to the bone.
	I’m going to get him back. You know he’ll take me – he’s cheated on me a hundred times, and we all forgive him everything that the dumb son of a bitch does. He’s too guilty over it not to.
	I’m writing to give you a chance to get back in. You may be an annoying judgmental cunt but having a pet is useful and for some reason DJ seems to like you. I have a plan that’ll end with both of us back at his side. I’m gonna be here all weekend, and I know you know how to find me, so let’s meet and talk it over. I know you’re out on your ass if you don’t take me up on it, so think twice before you decide to throw a little hissy fit. 
	You can be proud and die wicked and alone in a gutter, or you can suck it up and get another shot at your grand redemption. Think it over.
	- “Mistress” Ashley Vandoren</I>

	Emily crumpled up the note as soon as she finished reading it. That fucking cunt. Flashes of Ashley meeting a hundred horrible fates danced through her brain, sending a jolt of pleasure direct to her cunt. God she wanted to see that bitch suffer.
	God she needed DJ back.
	Yet it may well be that the two urges were incompatible. There was no way he’d take Emily back on her own – no apology she could make could cover over what had happened. She’d stood over him, half-ready to try to strangle him to death then and there – and he’d seen it. And that rant, those horrible, evil, completely true things she’d said… 
	Ashley made a fair point after all. DJ, for all the harm he did, somehow didn’t <I>mean</I> to do it, and he was certainly not the instigator in the worst of the infractions. Those were all the children of Ashley’s spiteful brain. It may well be possible for someone to convince him that Ashley had done nothing worse to him than he’d done to her, play to his (very) deep-seated humanity. People forgave and rationalized infidelity every day all over the world, especially chumps who really thought they were in love.
	It could work. She’d be as miserable as she was before, but… maybe she could make it work. Ashley was too stupid, too greedy not to fuck things up for herself again; all she had to do was keep her cool next time. She’d been so fucking close before! His words, that half-conscious (at most) “I love you” still haunted her. The peace, the relief… 
	All she had to do was out-wait Ashley. Endure the humiliation, self-loathing, destruction of her future… but she would be free again.
	Then she thought of Ashley, the hell she would surely put Emily through if she joined her little scheme. Having to swallow all those hateful thoughts for months and months and be a good little slave, obeying and serving and gratifying at master and mistress’ pleasure. 
	It disturbed her still how naturally those instincts came to her. How wet she got at the thought of obeying, of servicing any cock and pussy put in front of her. Living on autopilot, not making decisions, just being a sensual part of their consequences.
	She fished Ashley’s note out of the trash, uncrumpled it and re-read it. Again. Finished, crumpled, tossed again. Like she’d been doing all day since the conniving sociopath slid it under her door like the chicken-shit she was. 
	Emily knew she had to decide soon. DJ had gone home for break, and by the time he was back, she had to be gone. With all the pictures and videos that had wound up online of her, her family would probably never talk to her again. Her boyfriend had heard about it even overseas, it had gotten so out of hand. The way she’d behaved, like the most brazen slut who ever lived, she’d lost all her friends. When she was out of her dorm room, she was well and truly alone in the world.
	Which meant living on the street. At least accepting Ashley’s offer might keep a roof over her head in the short-term until she could make another plan. If Emily could stop herself from attacking her.
	Or from falling to her knees and obeying her every command.
	<I>Maybe read the note one more time, and it’ll sort itself out.<I>
	She was reaching for the trash can when there was a knock at the door. It had to be Ashley – all the girls on her floor were way too disgusted with how she’d carried on to want to talk to her, and all but a few were home for break anyway.
	Emily hopped out of bed, taking a moment to compose herself. With the woman on her doorstep, she decided without even realizing it. She would do it. Anything was worth it – the emptiness, the worthlessness inside her was all-consuming, and she would do anything to stop it. Anything. In anticipation, she kneeled in front of the door, head bowed humbly, hands cupping her naked breasts. (It was something she’d done for DJ, but by now it was just an instinct, a way of posing to show her total submission.)
	“Come in,” she said. She waited for the door to open, her eyes locked on the ground. Emily was too afraid that if she saw Ashley’s face she’d try to claw her eyes out of her head. “I’ll do it,” she said. “Whatever you want, whatever your plan is, I’ll do it. I’ll obey you. I’ll serve you. Tell me what to do to get back into his good graces and I’m yours. Your stupid little slut eagerly awaits your command.”
	“Um… how did you know what I came to talk to you about?” Brittney asked.
	
	
	
	<I>Well that was unexpected.</I> Brittney looked down where the naked girl knelt on the floor of her dorm room, more than a little shocked by what she walked in on. Emily looked up seemingly just as surprised, though she made no effort to cover herself – evidently she’d conquered whatever shyness she once had.
	“Oh, I thought… fuck. God damnit. What the hell do you want?”
	“You mean you don’t… wait, who did you think I was?”
	“Someone else, obviously.” Emily rose to her feet; despite being half a head shorter than Brittney, she was once more impressed with how it felt very much the opposite. “You got five seconds to tell me what you want before I slam the door on your pretty blonde head.” 
	“Whoa, holy shit, just – easy there,” Brittney said, holding up her hands disarmingly. “All I want to do is talk to you. About DJ.”
	The girl’s eyes narrowed. “What about him? You want me to help you get back into his bed?”
	“Well… yeah. Maybe. Look, this is… you’re naked and everything. At least let me come in and talk to you in private. If you change your mind after, I’ll leave, no worries. Just let me in.”
	Slowly, the girl nodded and stepped back, Brittney following and closing the door behind them. Here she was, sealed into a tiny room with a possibly crazy and definitely naked girl she barely knew. Emily made no move to cover herself; she just stood there, hands on hips, waiting with a defiant expression.
	“Well geez, where to start. So… all right, I know you and DJ and Ashley had some kind of… arrangement, between the three of you.”
	“How the hell do you know about that?”
	“Um, I live like forty feet away from his room. You guys aren’t quiet. Or subtle. Which is fine,” she added cautiously.
	“All right, so we fucked loud. So what?”
	“Not just the, uh, fucking,” Brittney said. She’d never liked that word; she could use it with guys easily as part of her toolkit, but around other people it felt dirty. “I mean… well, let me just come out and say it.”
	“Yeah, please.”
	“I know you were DJ’s… um, sex… slave?” She couldn’t make herself say it without turning it into a question. “And I know you and he had that… falling out, the other day.”
	“So what the fuck is it to you.” Emily took a step forward.
	“I guess… well, I wondered how you’re doing. I know it’s not my business, and I know we’re not friends and really I don’t even know you other than from seeing you around a lot lately and that probably doesn’t count and all but…” she paused to breathe, “I worried. About you.”
	Emily regarded her inscrutably. “What do you care what happens to me.”
	“Because you seem like a good person.” 
	There was a long silence; she hoped she hadn’t misjudged or misspoken. Emily neither replied nor indicated she was going to lash out, so Brittney continued, as gently as she could. It was obvious she was dealing with a deeply wounded creature here. “Can I ask you something?” 
	Emily didn’t say no, so she dove in. “Why?”
	“Why what?”
	“Why were you with DJ. If you don’t mind my saying so, he seemed like he was pretty hard on you sometimes. I know Ashley was. Why would you put up with all that? Was it a sex thing, or… something else?”
	Emily glared. “What, you wanna try to get into my head, figure me out so you can see how you can use me for your little game? You’re plenty hot enough to convince him to fuck you on your own – you don’t need me, blondie.”
	“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want. I just want to know – no angles, no strings.”
	Emily allowed another long silence to pass before she sat down on her bed. Naked as she was and unladylike as she sat, it was awkward looking, but Brittney didn’t want to lose her now over an issue of propriety.
	When she opened her mouth to speak, the girl didn’t stop for nearly an hour.
	Brittney listened as she poured her heart out – about how angry she’d been at DJ for what happened with her family, how much worse she’d felt for being angry. How she’d felt like she had in church school, guilty and inadequate and desperate to live right to make up for it. The things she’d done for Ashley and DJ, the girl’s sick thrills at humiliating and abusing her. How much she hated her for it – and how much she’d come to be excited by it. How her entire life had been warped unrecognizable in just a few short months, and in spite of it all, how much she wished she could find a way to make things right. 
	Emily had started crying almost as soon as she began talking, and didn’t let up. At some point, Brittney had settled in beside her and handed her some tissues. By the time she finished the story, Brittney barely noticed her nudity any more. She was just a broken-hearted woman without a friend in the world. 
	“Then this morning,” she finished, “Ashley, she…” Emily glanced at her trash can, then shook her head. “Nevermind. I just… I’m done. I got nothing left, that’s it. So there you go, there’s your answer. I’m a fucked-in-the-head sex slave without a master doing it for my soul’s salvation.”
	“That old cliché,” Brittney said wryly. 
	Emily actually laughed a little. “So what about you? I mean, I know you and he fooled around – I mean, obviously, a guy like DJ living down the hall from a hottie like you… not that there are other guys like DJ. But you know what I mean. Why are you interested? Is it… is it the same as me?”
	Brittney took a deep breath; she’d been so engrossed in the tale, she hadn’t really processed it. She barely even knew what she wanted herself. “Maybe? I don’t know. I think… I don’t think I’m as bad off as you. Not judging – not at all. But what he and I have done didn’t hurt me like he hurt you.”
	“Lucky you.”
	“Yeah, I guess so,” Brittney said. “And plus, I’ve been through a lot of it before, so it’s kind of familiar, in a way.”
	“Familiar? You’ve met another guy with the power to make people put up with everything he does?”
	She hadn’t really meant to, but after Emily’s out-pouring, she felt bad being unwilling to reciprocate – and so she did. She started with how they’d met, how he’d taken her home, all the things they’d done. How some of it had been fun, some of it had been terrifying to watch unfold. How sometimes he reminded her of Earl – and then, that lead into one of the first times she’d ever told another person about her step-father.
	Eventually, somewhere between the time he’d come into the shower with her and the time he’d grabbed her ass in front of her friends at her high school graduation party, she shook her head. “I’m sorry – I know this wasn’t supposed to be about my issues. I’m not trying to one-up you or anything.”
	“No, it’s OK,” Emily said. “I don’t mind.”
	Brittney smiled and dabbed at some stray tears. “So, I guess where I meant to go with all that, was that I’ve seen men like that, guys who just take what they want and don’t give a fuck about anyone else. And I’ve seen DJ be that kind of guy.”
	“Yeah, me too.”
	“But,” Brittney went on, “I’ve also seen him try to be kind. To look for ways to help people.” She told Emily about when she first met him, his floor program where he talked about partying safely.
	“I give my girls the same talk,” Emily said. “I’ve had a few tell me it helped.”
	“Yeah. And not just before he, you know, got his power or whatever. I mean, he could treat me however he wanted – but he’s been… I don’t know how to describe it.”
	“Didn’t you say he loaned you out to his sister’s friend? That he had you blow him in the cafeteria?” Emily frowned.
	“Yeah, he did. He’s not been perfect. And… that’s the thing. Part of me thinks that was him adjusting? Like, figuring out what he could do with his gift. And before he could get it out of his system, Ashley stepped in and twisted him around her finger, and… well, we both know what that’s been like.”
	“We sure the fuck do.”
	“Ugh. I just don’t know. Part of me knows… I guess it’s not humble or whatever, but I know what I look like. How guys see me. And part of me thinks maybe I could try to, I dunno, be enough for him? So he won’t need other girls, won’t go around doing all those things he’s been doing.”
	“That’s… awfully selfless of you. Crazy, but selfless.”
	“Look, like I said… I learned early on in life how to keep a guy’s attention off of someone else. To protect them.”
	“Yeah, I guess you would. But… you said ‘part of you.’ What’s the other part?”
	Brittney sighed, flopping backwards on Emily’s bed. “Part of me… part of me thinks this might actually make me happy.” She told Emily about some of the times they shared. Late-night talks at his mom’s house, cuddling and watching movies, their secret showers.
	“Don’t you get it, Brittney? He’s just using you, like he uses every other girl he gets his eyes on. You think <I>that</I> will make you happy?” Emily laid down beside her, looking at her like she was crazy.
	“No, I mean… maybe he is. I… don’t know. I just know what I feel. Even if it’s stupid. And maybe that’s just my brain trying to help me cope with what I’m trying to accomplish. But if so, and it makes it easier, I’ll take it.
	“I’ve been planting seeds now for a while,” she said. She told Emily how she’d been watching him, flirting here and there. She even told him about her feelings journals.
	“Wait, ‘journals’? Like, plural? How many feelings do you have, girl? Damn,” Emily teased.
	“Well that’s the thing. He suggested I write down my feelings, and he was trying so hard to be all casual and sly that I knew he was up to something. So I thought about it, and figured out what he was trying to do – trying to get inside my head. He’s cut off, you see – nobody will tell him how they really feel about him. At least, not if it’s something bad. Look at you, you poor, poor thing – look what it took to make you say something!”
	“And then I totally lost it as soon as I did. I’ve never felt so guilty for anything in my life.”
	“Exactly,” Brittney said. “So I realized he wanted to know if people were secretly mad or afraid or what, but wouldn’t tell him. Hell, I know I wouldn’t say anything. That was crazy brave of you, Emily.”
	“Thanks.”
	“So anyway, I figured it was a good idea, making sense of my thoughts, so I went ahead and wrote one and stored it on my computer in a hidden folder. Then I wrote up a fake diary in a notebook so that he’d find that instead when he came to spy on me.”
	“A fake diary? What the hell for?”
	“Well, for one, once I realized he meant to read it, I couldn’t… well, you know.” Emily nodded; she certainly understood keeping her dark thoughts to herself. “Plus, like I said, I wanted him to want me, so… I may have hammed up my enthusiasm some, to get him interested.” 
	She described one of her favorite entries, where she claimed she could barely write because she’d had this dream about being marooned on a tropical island with DJ, and spend the rest of their days just fucking like bunnies, then woke up and had to get herself off without Mercedes noticing.  
	“Geez, add a picture or two and you could sell that stuff.” Brittney giggled. “Seriously. I’d buy it.”
	“Thanks,” she said, coloring slightly at seeing the naked girls eyes fixed on her.
	“So,” Emily said at last, “what happens now? You gonna try to make your move when he gets back?”
	“I was – I am,” she corrected herself. “And… well, now that we’ve met, now that we know… what we know about each other… do you… I dunno, do you want, maybe to… do it with me?”
	“Mmm, I thought you’d never ask,” Emily said – and before Brittney knew what was happening, the girl’s lips were pressed to hers, followed moments later by her tongue. Brittney let herself be kissed, but when Emily’s delicate hand started reaching under her shirt, she pulled back.
	“I’m sorry – I meant… wow, that was… wow. You’re… wow,” Brittney managed. “What I meant was, did you want to try to come back to DJ with me.”
	Emily chuckled softly. “Oh. Guess I… well. So I’d be your fuck toy, instead of Ashley’s?”
	“I don’t want a fuck toy – I hadn’t thought of it like that. I just feel like… now that I know, I can’t not try to let you work things out.” 
	“Maybe it’s not what you want, but it’s what I am to him. I have to be good to him, and that’s what he likes. I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable, but I want you to know what you’re walking into, if we did this.”
	“Oh. Well… I did actually have fun when we were with other girls. Maybe it would be OK. And I could just leave you two to it sometimes? I don’t know how it would work, but Emily… I’m not letting you live on the street. No way. We’ll make it work.”
	The slender girl settled up to her knees, looming over where Brittney lie. Her nipples were very, very hard since that kiss. “I can make it work. Mistress.”
	“Mistress? I’m not anyone’s… mistress.”
	“How do you know you don’t want a fuck toy,” Emily said, leaning across Brittney’s chest, “if you’ve never had one?”
	Brittney blushed at the girl’s sudden forwardness. “I wouldn’t know what to do with one.”
	“You don’t have to do anything for a fuck toy, except tell her what you want. Let me do it. Let your little slut use her hands and her slutty mouth to pleasure you. She promises she’ll prove herself worthy of your blessing.”
	“Emily, you don’t have to…”
	“Your play thing wants to, mistress. No one has let her serve them in days and days, and she’s such a little slut that her pussy is so wet at the shape of her new mistress’ perfect body. You have such big, sexy breasts and that beautiful round ass, your fuck toy feels so lucky mistress would invite her to serve master with her.”
	Brittney just stared, her pulse quickening. “You… you really talk like this?”
	The brunette leaned in close, her breath coming just an inch from Brittney’s lips. “I don’t just talk like this – I <I>think</I> like this. This is who I am now,” she whispered. She kissed Brittney again, and this time, Brittney didn’t stop her.
	It was soon evident that the girl meant what she said. In nearly all of her relationships with men, Brittney had been in a role closer to Emily’s – she sucked cock when they wanted their cock sucked, she bent over when they wanted to fuck her, she made herself alluring and tried to make the little details Just So to keep her partner’s interest.
	Today, she got to be selfish. Not that she wanted to be – Emily simply didn’t give her an alternative.
	“Would you like your slut to help you with your clothes?” Brittney nodded, so Emily stripped her, running her hands in a loving caress over every bit of newly exposed flesh she could while she did so.
	Emily took one of Brittney’s breasts into both hands, putting her mouth to the nipple with just the right combination of tongue and teeth. “Would you like your fuck toy to suck on your perfect tits, mistress?” To say no would mean she might stop, and Brittney was too turned on to let that happen. They sank back down to the bed and Emily’s small frame climbed atop her to continue.
	At some point, Brittney realized Emily’s hand had replaced her own at her pussy; few guys she’d been with had ever spent much time on foreplay, and she’d forgotten at the marked improvement in having someone else touching her as opposed to doing it herself. She had just started making the little whimpering noises she’d been teased about by lovers in the past when Emily paused. “Would mistress like her whore to pleasure her pussy?”
	Again, Brittney had no choice but to utter a breathy but emphatic “yes.”
	“Please tell your human vibrator <I>how</I> you would like her to pleasure you, beautiful mistress.” To clarify her meaning, she suddenly thrust three fingers into Brittney’s pussy, using her thumb on the clit; once Brittney’s vision cleared, she realized Emily had paused and was sensuously licking her lips. “I’ll do it any way you want.”
	Brittney wriggled her hips to grind on Emily’s hand. “Can you… can you do both? H-hands and mouth?”
	Emily smiled, but maddeningly didn’t moved. “Of course your slut can, mistress. Not that her feelings matter, but she would be happy to. If you wished.”
	After a moment of more wriggling, Brittney realized what was happening. “Do both.”
	The brunette shivered, goose bumps appearing on her forearms. “As mistress commands.” 
	Brittney clutched and fondled her breasts as Emily went to work – compared to the clumsy attention of that high school girl Brianne, she was an artist. She used her tongue with surgical precision, knew exactly when to please and when to tease. “You’re… fucking amazing,” Brittney panted. “Did Ashley… have you… do this… often?”
	Emily tensed for just a moment at the mention of that name, but she resumed as quickly until the question was at length finished. “No. Sometimes I would, for master to watch, but she didn’t like me to touch her. At first, I didn’t like it, so she made me do it often to other women she and master would pick.”
	Brittney looked down to see Emily grinning slyly. “I never told her that I learned to like it. And with a body like yours…” She took a slow lick across Brittney’s slit. “Mistress even tastes as good as she looks.”
	Brittney smiled. Sincere or no, it was nice to be flattered. From the way she dove into Brittney’s pussy, she sure <I>felt</I> sincere. She didn’t stop when she first brought her new mistress to her first orgasm; in fact, once Brittney had crested the wave and was coming down, she felt Emily’s spare finger teasing at her other hole, but not entering.
	“What… what you doing?”
	“Nothing, unless mistress wishes me to,” Emily said, moving her pinky in small circles.
	“Do it,” Brittney said. Emily sighed happily, and Brittney noted again how excited her commands seemed to get the poor girl. Unable to do anything else to please her under current circumstances, she used her only avenue. “Do it <I>slut</I>,” she amended, forcing out the last word.
	Emily full-on groaned now, then obediently slid her pinky into Brittney’s ass, her mouth a moment later puckering to accept her new mistress’ clit. This time, Brittney came with her thighs clamped hard around Emily’s face, squealing in unfeigned bliss.
	“Would mistress like her living sex toy to keep going?”
	“Yes!” Brittney cried, her back arching in the after-shocks of her last orgasm. “Yes, you little, um, whore!” It felt wrong to say, but Emily made a noise that told Brittney how right her words had sounded. Brittney could even feel her body quivering after.
	“Yeah, keep eating me, you… hussy!” <I>Hussy? Who says ‘hussy’ any more?</I> Regardless, Emily responded to it, and Brittney wanted to make her happy – so she continued, forcing out each command, each scrap of abuse. 
	“Don’t you dare stop eating my pussy!”
	“If my cunt isn’t satisfied you’ll be down there all day.”
	“You’re going to be my playmate from now on, so get used to being down there.”
	“Lick my slit like the good little fuck toy you are!”
	Only Brittney’s voice broke in the middle of that last one, and Emily looked up – trembling in excitement – to find her wincing in discomfort. “Is something wrong, mistress?” she asked, her face glistening guilelessly with Brittney’s cum. 
	“I’m sorry Emily, I just… I’m not a dirty talker. I don’t mind when other people do it to me,” she added quickly, “but… I just suck at it.”
	Emily arched an eyebrow. “Then why were you trying so hard?”
	“You, um, seemed like you liked it. You doing such an amazing job, and you didn’t seem like you were ever going to stop–”
	“Mistress had not commanded me to stop. In fact–” 
	“–I know, I know. But I just wanted to… I dunno. Make you happy too. It’s not my way to just lie back and let someone pleasure me without giving back.”
	“You… want me to get off? By talking?”
	Brittney chuckled self-consciously. “Yeah, I guess it sounds pretty stupid when you say it out loud.” 
	“It’s not. You… actually might have been pretty close. I have some weird issues – you might have noticed.”
	She smiled. “Well, can I…? I want to give back to you.” Brittney sat up, moving herself closer and taking her hand gently.
	Emily smiled thinly. “Another weird thing… I don’t really get turned on by girls doing stuff to me, just when I do it to them. But,” she said as she saw Brittney’s dejected expression, there is something you could do….”
	Emily told her. “That’s… insane. And horrible. Oh my god, you poor dear.”
	“Insane and horrible is about right. Will you do it though? You don’t have to, of course. If you can pull this off, getting back with DJ, and you talk him into taking me back, that’ll be all the thanks I could ever need. Not that I need thanks, since… well, in that scenario, that makes you my mistress, like, for real.”
	Brittney wanted to disagree, insist she would never be part of something like that – but if DJ wanted it, she wasn’t such a bitch that she’d get in his way. She wanted to say she would tell him all about Emily’s situation, certain he would make things better – only she knew how that would devastate him to know he’d been party to that, and Brittney could never bring herself to hurt him that way.
	“All right,” she said instead. “I’ll do it.”
	Emily smiled, and settled into her bed, legs spread wide, fingers immediately finding her pussy. Brittney kneeled down beside her, leaning right down in her ear. She took a deep breath, quieting all the mixed feelings in her heart and deciding that for now, if this brough this poor tortured woman a little respite, she’d do anything.
	“DJ loves you, and you’re his good, good girl,” she whispered.
	She’d been prepared to go on like this – she’d figured it’d take a while, and at most she’s just be an aid to Emily’s fingers. Instead, the girl’s knees curled up into the air and she howled in an orgasm that went on for thirty seconds, stopping only to refill her lungs.
	Brittney was standing a little ways back when Emily came back to her senses, eyeing her warily. “Are you all right?” Brittney asked.
	“Yeah. I guess… well, like I said. Issues. You were warned.” She shrugged.
	“We’ll fix you. You can still come back from this.”
	“Sure.”
	“Well… I guess there’s point discussing it. But… I’ll do everything I can to make this right with DJ. You’re going to be all right. I promise.”
	For the first time since she had seen this miserable woman, since shortly after DJ entered her life, Emily smiled like a normal girl, and Brittney actually thought she might be able to do it.