Just got back from the grocery store. A former classmate from my 'old life' was there, giving me that familiar, pitying look as I loaded my cart with energy drinks, protein bars, and industrial-sized lube. She asked if I was 'still doing that dropout thing.' I smiled and told her I'd never been happier. What I didn't tell her was that my pussy was still sore and dripping from being fucked before I left, that the plug in my ass is part of my daily training, or that the protein bars are to keep my stamina up for long sessions of riding my Master's cock. I saw her perfect little life in her cart: organic greens, artisanal bread, a bottle of wine for her fiancé. Mine is filled with the fuel to be a better fucktoy. We both paid and went our separate ways. I'm sure she drove home to her condo to cook a sensible dinner. I came home, dropped the bags, got on my knees, and thanked my Master for my reality with my mouth around his dick until he came. Her validation comes from a promotion. Mine comes from the slap of his balls against my chin and the gulp of his cum. I know which currency I prefer. 💸