Trashy Sluts - 4 Filthy Tales

by AE Publications

  “Well, like you said before, practice makes perfect,” he said.

  “It does indeed,” Danielle replied.

  “So what’s next?”

  “Next you get dressed and go home and get some sleep. You’ll need a lot of it based on how much you had to drink today. Especially with what I have planned for tomorrow.”

  “Care to elaborate a little?”

  “Let’s just say that we’re going to continue building on what went down here today,” Danielle said. “Hopefully by the end of tomorrow you’ll have broken through your little wall of trepidation. Without the assistance of alcohol.”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “That sounds like a tall order.”

  “And it is. But I have a couple surprises planned that I think might do the trick.”

  Matthew was starting to get excited again. “Like what?”

  “If I told you then they wouldn’t be surprises, would they?”

  Smiling, he said, “I guess not.”

  “But trust me. You’re going to like them. I promise.”

  Matthew had no doubt that he would. Whether or not he could another whole day to find out what they were was something else entirely. But he had no choice.

  #####

  DESTROYING THE SLUT

  ESCORTS PREFERRED: VOLUME TEN

  RICKIE SHEEN

  In general, I like some variety with my sexual encounters. Sometimes I want to be dominated, sometimes I want to be the one dominating, sometimes I want to be surprised, sometimes I’ve craving anal and so on. It changes based on my mood.

  But at the same time my tastes are very specific. When I decide on a scenario, I want it a very specific way. And this evening I’m going to play out a fantasy of mine.

  I think of it as the reluctant submissive.

  Basically, I want to dominate a young lady, make her do exactly what I want her to do, exactly how I want her to do it. But I don’t want a passive submissive, someone who just gives in completely. I want a fighter, a girl with attitude, someone who’s going to make me take from her what I want. Or at least pretend to.

  Of course, this sort of thing isn’t possible in the real world. Not unless you want to get yourself arrested. Which is exactly why I prefer escorts. All it takes is a few hundred bucks and a phone call and I can lay out the scenario in detail and get a girl that will fit my needs perfectly. This way, she knows exactly what she’s getting into. And even if she doesn’t necessarily enjoy it (although I much prefer getting the girls that do) she’s at least willing to do it and pretend like she’s enjoying it. And if she’s a good enough actress (and virtually all of them are, at least in the upper levels of the escort industry where I get my girls from) you never know the difference anyway.

  It’s the best of both worlds, really. A sexual role-play but one that doesn’t come with any of the pre or post sex awkwardness that inevitably happens when you do it with a significant other. Both parties know exactly what they’re getting into and both parties are fine with the parameters. I get to live out a fantasy of mine and she gets to make a living and we all go home happy. Or at least satisfied. And in this uncertain world of ours, how often can you say something like that?

  #

  There’s an aggressive knock on my hotel room door and I head over and turn the handle without peeking through the eyehole. I’ve learned it’s better to get the first glimpse in the flesh, so to speak.

  I’ve barely got the door open when she saunters in like she owns the place, with nothing more than a flip of her chin in my direction. She drops a small purse on the floor near the door and turns to face me, giving me the first full look at her.

  She’s not too small of girl, about 5’6” and right around 125 pounds. Solid enough looking to take the pounding I had in mind. Long, sandy blonde hair, big brown eyes, bright red lipstick on pouty, full lips. Her attitude is apparent, all the way from the slightly disdainful look on her face to the way she holds herself to the combination black leather jacket and shorts she’s wearing. Not to mention the knee-high black leather boots on her feet.

  In other words, perfect. Exactly what I was looking for.

  “So are we gonna get this party started or what?” she says, looking right at me without any hint of embarrassment.

  “You know what you’re getting into, right?”

  “Yeah, you hired me to push me around and make yourself feel like a big man. But you don’t want it to be too easy.”

  “And you’re game for that?”

  “I’m game for whatever you’ve got,” she says.

  “Are you sure?” I say. “It’s going to get a bit rough.”

  She scoffs and glares at me sideways. “From you? I doubt it. You’re a pathetic little businessman and I do this sort of thing for a living. You won’t even be able to make me uncomfortable.”

  “Is that what I look like to you?” I ask her as I undo my belt. “A middle management loser who has to hire women to get laid?”

  “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up,” she says.

  I slip my belt off and fold it over and slap it on the palm of my hand while I talk. “So if I were to tell you that I own my own business and I’m worth a few million on a bad day and I hire women because I don’t like dealing with the emotions of a traditional relationship, what would you say to that?”

  “I’d probably say you were full of shit.” There’s no fear in her eyes, just faux disdain poorly masking a deep undercurrent of excitement.

  “Is that right?” I say as I loop the belt around her neck.

  “That’s right,” she says, still maintaining her look of defiance.

  I run the belt through the buckle and tighten it around her neck. Not so tight that she can’t breathe but not loosely either.

  “Then I guess I’ll just let you go on believing what you want. After all, I don’t give a fuck what you think of me.” I raise my hand holding the belt so it digs into her skin. She has to lift her chin to keep from choking. “As long as you do what you’re told.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “Then I’ll punish you.”

  “What if I like to be punished?”

  “Then I guess we’ll both be having fun,” I say, raising my hand higher.

  This time, no amount of chin lifting will keep her from choking. I’m simply too tall and have too much leverage over her.

  “Are you going to do what I tell you?” I ask.

  She nods as much as her situation will allow.

  “I want to hear it.”

  “I’ll do what you tell me,” she manages to say.

  “We’ll see about that,” I say, lowering my hand, loosening the pinch of the belt and allowing her to breathe. She does so in gasping breaths.

  I reach out with my free hand and undo the zipper on her leather jacket. I have no intention of having her take it off, I just want easy access to her tits. Nevertheless, she starts to wiggle out of it.

  I smack her in the face. Not very hard, just enough to get her attention. She looks at me with wide eyes that appear to be a combination of startled and angry. It’s hard to know for sure if she’s acting or not, but it doesn’t really matter. She knew what she was getting into. Nothing I do from here on in should surprise her too greatly.

  “Did I tell you to take your jacket off?” I say.

  She shakes her head. Her lip is quivering slightly but her eyes are defiant.

  “Then why did you start to do it?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know. I just thought—”

  “I’m not paying you to think,” I say. “I’m paying you to do what I tell you, nothing more. Got it?”

  She nods.

  “What?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “That’s better,” I say.

  My tone reflects disappointment but in reality I’m anything but. She’s acting exactly as I’d hoped she would. Defiant yet submissive at the same time. I’m not sure if
she’s doing it on purpose or not but it’s definitely working for me. My cock is rock hard and pressing against the material of my pants.

  I reach inside her jacket and fondle one of her tits. With her jacket on I hadn’t been able to get a good look. It’s not that big that’s all right; it’s perky as hell and perfectly proportioned. Which is good enough for me.

  I grope her for a few seconds but don’t get much of an outward reaction. So I move my fingers to her nipple. I rub it between my fingertips to harden it up then give it a good hardy pinch.

  She bites her bottom lip but doesn’t make a sound.

  “Does that hurt?” I ask, my fingers still clamped on her nipple.

  “A little.”

  “Just a little?”

  She nods.

  I squeeze harder, twisting my hand while I do so.

  She gasps and glares at me.

  “What about that?” I say. “Does that hurt?”

  She nods.

  “Do you like it?” I ask.

  She nods again.

  “Do you want me to do it again?”

  She nods for the third time.

  So I do, pinching and twisting her nipple even more aggressively this time.

  Her legs start to buckle and she makes a low moaning sound.

  I release her nipple and move my hand over to the other one. I give it the same treatment and she reacts similarly. So far, so good.

  “Turn around,” I say.

  She does as she’s told.

  I spin the belt so the buckle is pressing against the back of her neck and my hand holding it is behind her head.

  I step closer to her, so my chest is touching her back and my head is right behind hers. With my free hand I reach down and undo the top button on her leather shorts. She’s not wearing any panties. I slip my hand inside her shorts and slide a couple of fingers between her legs and start rubbing the outside of her shaved pussy.

  “Do you like that?” I whisper into her ear.

  She nods.

  “I can’t hear you.”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes what?”

  “Yes, sir,” she says.

  I slip two fingers inside her and start finger-fucking her.

  “What about that?” I whisper. “Do you like that too?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I pull on the belt with my other hand, tightening it, choking her as I’m fingering her.

  “How about now?” I ask.

  She nods.

  “Say it.”

  “Yes, sir,” she manages to croak out. Her face is quickly turning red.

  I start fingering her more aggressively, causing her to search more deeply for the air that isn’t reaching her lungs.

  “Do you want me to stop?” I ask her.

  She shakes her head.

  “What?”

  “No,” she says. Her breath is barely a whisper.

  “No what?”

  “No, sir.”

  By now, I can’t really even hear her. It’s more like lip-reading. But she’s a trooper, that much is for sure. She doesn’t want to look like she’s tapping out.

  “Are you sure?” I ask.

  She nods, not even bothering trying to talk anymore.

  Her lips are slightly open and her eyelids are starting to flutter. Her chest is heaving with effort as I continue to finger her, overloading her senses with pure enjoyment while she suffers through not being able to breathe. A paradox that some people spend their lives searching for.

  It isn’t until her head starts to slump to the side that I release my hold on her, relaxing the hold the belt has on her throat at the same time I slip my fingers from her pussy. Taking away the pleasure and the pain at the same time.

  She takes a couple of deep, shuddering breaths and the color rushes back to her face. She turns her head towards me, glaring at me with a look that is part anger part excitement.

  I reach up with my hand that was just inside her pussy and slip my still-wet fingers into her mouth. I jam them down her throat, causing her to gag. I fuck her mouth with my fingers for a few pumps then give her cheek a little smack.

  Her glare turns harsher.

  “You didn’t like that did you?”

  She just looks at me, not sure how to answer, or if she even should.

  “It’s okay,” I say. “You can tell me the truth.”

  “No,” she says.

  I smack her again, harder this time.

  Her eyes narrow.

  “What about that time? Did you like it?”

  “Yes, sir,” she says but her tone suggests otherwise.

  “That’s better,” I say, gripping her chin and turning her head back so it’s facing forward. I slip the belt off her neck and drop it to the floor. Then I grab a handful of her hair and walk her over to the full-sized mirror fixed against the wall on the far side of the room.

  I spin her around so she’s facing the mirror and then press her body up against it. Now I can see her face while I fuck with her. And not only that but I can watch myself watching her. I’ve always been visual and this set-up helps greatly in that regard.

  The first thing I do is pull her jacket off her chest, finally exposing her tits and flat, tan stomach. But I don’t pull the jacket all the way off. Instead I trap her arms inside the arms of the jacket then yank them backwards and give the jacket a little twist, essentially handcuffing her arms behind her back and giving me complete control of both her arms with just one of my hands.

  Holding her arms behind her with one hand, I give her tit a smack with the other, slapping down on it with some real force. The sound fills the room like a gunshot. She flinches and lets out a little shriek. I slap the other. Again she shrieks and flinches. I smack them again, first one, then the other. And again. And again, until both her tits are red.

  She’s breathing hard by this point. I don’t know if it’s from excitement or pain or both. And to be honest I don’t really care. I’m having too fun. A point which is being hammered home by my cock, which is pressing so hard against my pants that it feels like I’m going to poke a hole clean through them.

  I decide it’s time to give my cock a little taste. Not the full course; more like an appetizer. So I run my hand down the exposed center of her body until I’ve got ahold of her shorts. I slip them down to her thighs, revealing her tight little ass to me but not giving her legs any freedom of movement.

  Still holding her arms behind her, I unzip my pants with my other hand and slip my rock-hard cock out through the gap. Then I grab ahold of my cock and smack it against her ass a couple of times.

  My plan is to fuck her from behind while she’s standing facing the mirror but I quickly realize it’s not going to work. She’s simply too short for me to get my cock inside her pussy with both of us standing. So I go with plan B.

  “Turn around and get on your knees,” I say, putting my hand on her shoulder and giving it a little downward nudge.

  She glares at me in the mirror and shrugs my hand off her shoulder but spins and drops down into position on her own without any audible protest. Her arms are still trapped behind her back by the jacket, leaving her pretty much at my mercy.

  “Is this what you want?” she says.

  I nod.

  “Say it,” she says, her mouth turned up in a little smirk.

  I chuckle under my breath. “Still a little feisty, I see.”

  “That’s the kind of girl you paid for, right? One that’s not just going to let you walk all over her without at least pretending to fight back.”

  “It is indeed,” I say. And it is. My cock is as stiff enough to pound nails.

  “You’re pathetic,” she says. “You know that, right? I mean, what have you done to me so far? Nothing, really. Throw me around the room, boss me around, slap me around a bit, that’s about it. Certainly nothing sexual, not really. And look at you. You’re hard as fuck. You’ll probably blow your load before you even get your cock in my mouth.”

 
“Let’s find out,” I say. “Open up.”

  She forms an O with her mouth. Her red lipstick is beckoning me, begging for my cock. So I give it to her, slamming it into her mouth, pushing it all the way in, balls deep, until the tip of my cock is tickling her throat and her nose is pressing up against my stomach.

  My hands are on the back of her head, holding her in place, but she doesn’t even try to pull away. She just stays there, deepthroating me as if it’s nothing, not even gagging or coughing for a full six seconds, maintaining eye contact the whole time, daring me, taunting me, trying to make me be the one that breaks the hold.

  At right about ten seconds I realize she’s going to be right. Sure, I got my cock in her mouth before blowing my load, but if I don’t pull out now I’m going to bust my nut down her throat after barely having got my cock inside one of her holes.

  So I pull off before it’s too late, backing away quickly, sliding my cock out of her mouth.

  She coughs and takes a moment to catch her breath, then shoots me a knowing little grin. “What was that, ten seconds and you were ready to cum? Just like I said. Pathetic old man.”

  “We’ll see about that,” I say, an evil smile lighting up my face. “Open up.”

  “You want to try again, huh? Be my guest.”

  She opens her mouth and stares up at me, daring me.

  I know from experience that hammering a girls mouth with my cock lessens the sensation, allowing me to go on for far longer than before without any danger of cumming. With this in mind, I again grab ahold of her hair and stick my cock in her mouth. But this time, instead of forcing her to immediately deep throat me, I start aggressively pumping her open mouth, slamming my cock in and out of it, giving her the entire shaft, from tip of my head to base of my balls.

  At first she takes it like a champ, without so much as a flinch or a sound, but as the unrelenting face-fucking continues, not allowing her even a moment of respite, she starts to lose her cool.

  It starts with a gag about fifteen seconds in, then another deeper one shortly after that. Tears start leaking out of her eyes and down her cheeks. Saliva is pouring out of her mouth and down her chin, some of it ending up on the carpet and some of it on her chest, which is heaving. Guttural choking sounds are coming from her throat. Her eyes are wide, not panicked but definitely stressed. Her arms are straining against the jacket, which is still holding them in place behind her back.