We are invited out to some dinner function, or similar at a posh hotel. You treat me with the utmost respect, the perfect gentleman all evening until you introduce me to one of your friends. You describe me as a slut cunt, desperately grateful for any cock she can get. The room is busy and noisy enough so that no one else would over hear the conversation but I still blush furiously and look around, just in case. You offer me to him and I try to laugh it off, pretending it was all some sort of joke that I didn't get but still look at you anxiously trying to gauge if you are really going to make me or not. You do of course, and I go off with this complete stranger whom I don't even find attractive and it's worse because I know that you know I wouldn't find him attractive and yet you make me go anyway, knowing I'll be too embarrassed or frightened to make a scene in front of the other guests.
He leads me out of the room and away from the guest rooms. I try to strike up a conversation, make it more human by asking where we were going, were we going back to his room at the hotel? He looks at me with contempt and almost sneers at me as he answers that there is no way he would take a dirty little whore like me back to the bed he shares with his wife, that she was a wonderful women and he wouldn't degrade her by even so much as having someone like me in the room she sleeps in. At this I hang my head in shame, too embarrassed to say any more and argue that I wasn't, cursing you for doing this to me but at the same time am too scared of defying you to run away from him.
He shoves me, rather violently into a toilet door. It isn't the guests' toilets as we are now in the staff quarters and the place is deserted at this time of the night. It's obviously used by kitchen porters or similar as are dirty cleaning rags on the floor and the air is heavy with the stench of cigarette smoke and urine. He doesn't say anything more, just leans me over the toilet seat and hoists my dress up to my waist. He hauls down my tights to my knees, ripping them in the process, I amen't wearing any pants and he enters me with out even pausing, making me gasp for breath as he thrusts himself into me, unrelentingly and obviously without any thought for me at all. He withdraws his cock just as he comes, smearing my ass and cunt with his seed, I can feel the stickiness as it dribbles down the inside of my tights. He grabs my hair, pulling me round to face him, I give a little whimper but say nothing as I lick and suck his cock clean again before he pushes me away and leaves my abruptly, cubicle door wide open as am left kneeling on the grubby floor.
I get up and look for something to clean myself up with but there are no paper towels left so I just have to pull my tights which are now ripped from the crotch right up to the waist band over my sticky thighs and ass, thankful that once my dress is straightened my tights will still look alright. I make my way back to the reception to find you and your friend speaking animatedly to a woman whom I learn later is his wife. Although you both notice me neither of you make an attempt to introduce me and I am left standing there awkwardly.
At last it is time to leave. You collect my jacket for me, but instead of holding it out for me so I can put it on, you put yours on and leave mine draped over you arm. I ask for it then, it is raining really heavily outside and we are walking home. You tell me I won't need it, even though plainly I will, but there are still a lot of people going about so again I am afraid to say anything, and just follow you out into the rain. The streets are deserted due to the time of the night and the weather, you walk briskly saying nothing as I struggle to keep up with you, my dress clinging to my wet skin and water dripping off my damp hair, getting wetter by the second. I try to complain to you about the man you gave me to, about how horrible he was and how awful it made me feel, but you don't seem to be listening and don't reply.
Abruptly you turn into an alleyway, I follow you blindly, presuming it is just another street on the way home, too busy ranting and raving about the incident earlier to be paying that much attention to where we were going. It is obviously a less good part of the town. The streetlight isn't working and the drains are blocked with rubbish and grime, as there are pools of grimy looking water everywhere. A huge pile of rubbish, obviously due for collection has been scattered around by the wind, littering the whole street and giving it a smell. I look at you wearily, guessing all too well why you might have stopped here, I glance back up towards the entrance wandering if this time I should really run away. You see my glance and smile amusedly, I know that smile by now and definitely know I should be making my getaway. It's too late, though and you thrust me hard, face first, against the cold rough wall, the stone biting into my flesh as you pin my arms above me. You yank at my hair with your other hand, making me arch my back further so that my breasts are pushed harder into the wall and my ass is pushed out towards you, your knee in between my thighs, forcing my legs apart. You bring my hands down and tie them high up my back so that I have to pull my shoulders back and thrust my breasts out in order to ease the strain. I moan softly, no Tom, not like this, please not like this.
You're voice is very close in my ear. Why not like this I hear you say. Isn't this what you like, isn't this what you deserve. Dirty fuck sluts don't deserve nice beds and clean sheets do they? In fact they don't even deserve nice clothes like this do they? Pretending to be something they aren't. In saying that you rip my expensive dress right down the middle to the waist, exposing my tits to the rain, and deliberately rubbing them against the rough texture of the wall, scraping them and causing me to wince and try and pull back, but you are too strong and I barely move at all.
Isn't this what it is meant to be like, I hear you in my ear again. A grotty little alleyway, stinking of rubbish and dirt, not even fit for the cheapest of sleazy whores. By this time you have hauled up the rest of my dress to the waist and ripped my tights even further so that are completely covered in ladders, rips and holes and is somehow more degrading than if had just taken them off altogether, just as the dress would be too. You thrust my bare hips against the wall, one hand still pulling my head back by my hair, the other digging into the scratches on my breasts made from the stone. I whimper and try again to convince you to let me go, to no avail.
Are you trying to tell me you don't like this, that you don't want me to fuck you like the dirty little cunt that you are here in the rain with your tits hanging out like the little slut fuck that you are? Despite it all, I still blush, hating the way you can do this to me and not being able to deny it at all as you slip your finger into my soaking wet pussy which has nothing at all to do with the rain. I can feel your grin even if I can't see your face, bastard, I mutter under my breath. You pull me by the hair over to the overflowing rubbish bins, make me lean them over so that my ass is exposed, spreading my legs so wide that is making my very pelvis ache. Suddenly something cold is thrust into my wet cunt, I cry out and tense but you just hold it there until I relax again. Slowly you begin to fuck me with the dirty bottle you found at your feet, I whimper and am nearly in tears in the humiliation of it all but you keep going until I can't help but push against you, eager to have anything at all inside me that's going to let me come.
Suddenly, you stop, I moan in frustration. No please, you here me say, my voice barley audible, please don't stop, oh god, can't stop now, please Tom, please. God look at you, I hear you say, disgust in your voice. Leaning over a pile of smelly rubbish, even the dirtiest of all cock sucking whores looking good compared to you, a stranger's cum all over you legs and ass begging me to fuck you with a dirty old bottle. I whimper and moan, try to thrust me ass towards you, begging you in any way I know, to let me come. I can hear the smile in your voice again. Tell me what a dirty cock sucking fuck slut you are and I will let you come, you know only too well how much difficulty I have in admitting such things. No, I moan, I can't. But you make no move towards me and in the end I can't bear it and say what ever you want to hear. This time I do cry though, the degradation is just too much for me. You pay no heed. I feel your cock and relief washes over me as I think are going to take out the bottle and fuck me yourself. Not so, you said that I hesitated too long and I don't deserve any enjoyment. You fuck my ass instead, with out any lubricant it is very very painful, especially with the bottle still there in my cunt. It is not for long however, just long enough for it to really hurt. You then make me kneel in one of the dirty puddles, my dress still up around my waist as a suck your cock. You thrust hard, balls slapping against my chin, so far down my throat think am going to choke, and very nearly do when I feel the first of your come trickle down my throat, eyes watering in the struggle for breath. You withdraw, though, and spray the rest all over my face and breasts and hair making it sticky and cold as it mingles with the rain.
You push me over so that I am laying on my back and push the bottle even further into my cunt with your foot, so that I won't be able to push it out as I walk. I cry out, sure that you must have torn something, but say nothing. You don't untie my hands but drape my now-filthy wet jacket, which you 'accidentally' dropped, over my shoulders so that my tied hands and ripped dress aren't that obvious. You say that I am a filthy whore and that you don't even want to be seen walking with me. You make me walk far enough behind you that no one would think we were together. I keep my head down, desperate for no one to see my ripped tights or the cum all over my face which I can do nothing to wipe away. Just before we leave the alleyway you ask with some amusement if I still hate you, I answer that of coarse I do, you bastard, and at that point I really mean it to. You just look down at me and say 'good' before walking off.
©2000 by Judith. If you like this story, write us a note, I'll pass it on to her.