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… We are in a bar, the kind of trendy one where the music is far too loud, everyone is far too drunk, and the place is packed. He’s got me in a slutty yet cute outfit, the sort of thing you wouldn’t look twice at, unless you recognized the padlock on the necklace, the lack of panty line, the hard nipples poking through the thin top.

He pushes me up to the bar, wedged in a corner to the back, the wall at my back and the bar hiding most of my body. Stay right here he says, and he goes to the bar to get us drinks. He comes back with a drink for him, and with someone he tells me he knows from an old job. The guy is tall and big, built like him, and they share a glance and laugh. His friend says – I see what you mean. They laugh again. His friend looks me up and down. I hold out my hand, uncertainly. Master gestures, frowning at me. I feel like an idiot, and stand there, uncomfortable, smiling at the new guy, but feeling unsure.

They both move closer to me, blocking off my view of other people, and towering over me. The guy, still not introduced to me, starts running his hand around my waist, pulling me to him, and I gasp. Master grips my face with one hand, pushing his thumb into my mouth. I get the picture. I feel my knees buckle a bit, the old weakness coming over as my mind sinks down into submission, abandonment. I stumble to the guy. Master pulls his thumb out, squeezes my ass, turns, and walks away.

The guy wraps his arms around me, possessively, I feel him envelop me, holding tight, and then he’s kissing me, thrusting his tongue into my mouth, and his hand is pulling up my skirt at the back. I glance around but nobody seems to care, and Master has disappeared. I start to panic as I feel his fingers slipping between my folds, and he smirks at me as he realised I’m not wearing underpants. I try to break free at this point, but before I can even draw a breath he’s grabbed me and is whispering to me, telling me that Master has given me to him, and if I struggle, he is supposed to tell me that I’ll pay for it later. I hesitate, and he knows he’s won.

He starts finger fucking me, still thrusting his tongue in my mouth, then panting into my ear, telling me my husband told him what a slut I am, and that I’ll do anything, and he can see it’s true. He pistons a finger in and out of my ass now, too, bouncing me up and down on his fingers and licking my neck. I feel absolutely gross. This is not my husband, not my Master, his hands are new and unfamiliar and he doesn’t smell right, and I am panicking, and saying to him this isn’t right, no, no. He pulls back and looks at me. Are you going to tell him that you said no, or am I? He told me that is not in your vocabulary. You’re not allowed to say it. I look at him despairingly, he has the control over me that my Master has given him, and now they both own me for this moment.

He pulls out his fingers and looks at me. Well, slut? I gulp, and say, yes sir. I can’t bring myself to say Master. He grins, looking very pleased with himself. That’s more like it, slut. He unzips his pants. Now get down there. I stare at him for a brief second – I still can’t bring myself to believe this. He sees the hesitation, swears at me, fuck this, cunt. Pushes my head down, kicking at my knees and ankles to make me collapse. Pulls his hardening cock out of his pants, into my mouth. Come on, he said you’re an incredible cocksucker. Show me what you can do. So I go for it, imagining this cock is my Master’s, and reminding myself of how I want to make him proud.

He face fucks me briefly, though he doesn’t have any of the style and control of my Master. I’m gagging and drooling, feeling his precum ooze out of my mouth and seep into my shirt. Disgusting. He seems happy though, gripping my hair tightly and pounding into me. I brace myself for his cum, but it doesn’t happen. He pulls out, drags me back to standing, grabs my hand, and pulls me towards the back. I’m looking around frantically for Master – and I see him,and he smiles and waves, mouthing Bye at me.

The guy takes me to a car, his car, in a corner of the car park. Nobody is around. He pushes me down over the hood, my cheek on the cold metal. Kicks my feet, spreads my legs apart. Spits on his hand, rubs it into my ass. I buck up, rearing off the car, no, no, no, no, and he grabs a handful of my hair, turning me around to look at him. Go on, he says. Go in there and tell him you refused me.

He stares at me. Sees again my hesitation. Laughs at me. Slaps my face, not too gently. Pushes me inexorably back down onto the car. Slides his hands under to grab and wrench at my breasts. Leans over me, hot breath in my ear. I’m going to fuck you, slut. I’m going to fuck your cunt, and then your ass. He gave you to me for this, and told me how you like it. I know you like it rough and I know you can take a cock as big as mine in your ass. I’m going to give it to you, and you’re going to say thank you. Got it?

Yes, i say quietly. Defeatedly. And he starts. And it takes a long time. He’s wearing a condom, and he seems to have a never ending supply of them, alternating between holes, thudding into me, telling me how wonderfully tight I am, how lucky my husband is. I tell myself how happy my husband, my Master will be, with my behaviour, if I don’t complain, if I just take it. So I do. I feel this man’s weight on my back, his cock fucking my holes, and I let it happen to me. Finally he finishes, grunting and jerking into my ass, pulling out and throwing away the last condom. Zips up his pants, and then grabs me and pulls me up off the car.

Laughs again, staring at me. You’re incredible, slut. Amazing. Thanks for that. He stares at me, expectantly. Of course, i remember. Thank you, sir. For what? He asks, smirking. For fucking my holes, I say quietly. That’s it? He asks. I sigh. For fucking my cunt, for fucking my ass, for using me, for treating me like the whore I am. And as I say it, I realise on some fucking twisted, debauched level, I mean it. He stares at me intently, quietly responds – you actually mean it. You actually enjoyed it. I can’t look him in the eye. I’m staring at the ground, feeling my cunt start to ache again, feeling a wetness that stains me. Fuck you’re such a little … Words seem to fail him. He falls silent again. We stand there, in an impasse of some sort. Then he seems to snap out of it.

Get on your knees. Hands and knees. I do it. He opens the trunk of the car, a station wagon. Get in. On your back. Spread your legs. I feel sick, but I do it. He looks at my cunt. Fuck, wet again. Well, I’m not hard enough again yet, but that shouldn’t stop us. You need to be treated like the little whore you are. Fucking whore. Fucking slut. He’s muttering to himself, and unzips some bag. Brings out a collection of random tools, I have no clue what he’s thinking, I’m a little concerned now he may be going to hurt me, but before I can think he’s got a hand on my chest, holding me down, and with the other he pushes the handle of something – a hammer? – into my cunt. It’s big, bulky, angular, and it wrenches me open. He fucks me with it, grunting to himself, fucking whore, fucking slut, look at your fucking holes, going to fill you up, going to make you beg for it. I’m gasping for breath, hating him, loving this, hating it. He pulls out the first tool, and rummages around, finds something else. This one is shorter but much fatter, and he struggles to get it rammed into me, but once it’s there, he’s clearly pleased with himself. Oh fuck yeah, you’re going to feel that, feel it rip you open. He fucks me with it, and I can’t help but start to cry a bit. Oh it hurts? Fuck you. And he goes harder. Then he finds pliers, pulling on my nipples, on my cunt lips. Oh god oh fuck oh you little fucking slut.

He’s clearly worked himself up into a lather because he pulls everything off and his cock is hard again, and he’s ramming into my cunt, biting my nipples and fucking me frantically, you little fucking cocksucking slut, you love being fucked by random men, strangers, you want this, you’re fucking sick … And he cums. Pulls out. Looks at me dispassionately. Stop fucking crying. Get up. Get the fuck up. And what do you fucking say. I slowly stand up. Nuh-uh, back on your knees, bitch. I get down on my knees on the gravel. Thank you sir, I say, between stifled sobs. Thank you for … For treating me like shit. That’s all I can think to say. He grips my hair and throws me to the ground. Looks at me, I can feel his stare.

Get the fuck up, he says. Grabs my wrist and drags me back into the club. My thighs, cunt and ass are aching. My mind is blank. I’m stretched, in pain, fucking humiliated, treated like meat, and I keep on going This stranger has just used me like I’m nothing. He finds my Master in the club, pushes me so I stumble into him. Well? Asks Master. Am I right? Isn’t she great? Fuck yeah. Such a little whore. Let me do it all. All three holes. And some pretty sick shit too. Tried to argue a bit, but I reminded her, she’s just a cunt, really, isn’t she. Oh yes, says Master. A pretty whorey little cunt. They laugh. Master has an arm around me. With the other he lifts my shirt up. Want a last feel before you go? The guy grabs a breast in each hand, kneading them and then tweaking the nipples. And what about this? Master flips up my skirt, and the guy moves one hand down, ramming fingers in my cunt and ass again. I feel him pinch hard, digging his nails in. He smirks at me. You know, it’s impressive how she gets wet and is still so fucking tight. He pulls his fingers out, and pushes the one that was in my cunt into my mouth. Oh yeah, says Master. She loves the taste of her own cunt. I lick and suck the guy’s finger. What else can I do.

The guy steps back, and tells us he has to unfortunately go home to his own wife. Well, says Master, you know where we live. Feel free to visit at any time. The guy laughs, says, you know I will. He pulls out his wallet, takes out two $50 notes, and gives them to Master. That’s one hell of a whore you have there. I hope you’re free next weekend. And then off he walks.

Master backs me up against the wall again, looks deep into my eyes. Good girl. Very, very good girl. And what do you have to say to me? I look at him, at the man who owns me, and has just proven how much he owns me. I look at him. thank you, Master, I say. Gooood little cunt, he says. And pushes me down as he unzips his pants, and his cock springs out to meet my lips.