Age of Puberty (Girl's POV)

[JEMMA]

I tried to read in bed that night, but to no avail. I couldn't even focus on watching Netflix on my laptop. My thoughts were captivated by the hour I had spent on Marcus massage table. The causal way he had used my body without asking my permission. The way his cum had made my panties stick to my thighs. The way his fingers had pinched my clitoris so hard I cried. The thought of my best friend Rebecca tricking me into being used by a stranger. I could not stop thinking about any of it.



And talking about Rebecca: She had called me earlier, but I didn't pick up the phone. The humiliation was unbearable, even more so in front of Rebecca. I did not know whether to be angry or ashamed or sad or grateful. Either one of those things would mean I had to admit to her what she already knew: That Marcus had taken me against my will. I could not imagine ever being able to look her in the eyes again.

Who I could imagine looking in the eyes again was Marcus. In fact, it was all I thought about. I wanted him to do it all over again so bad I could hardly breathe or sleep or eat. 

But there was a problem.

What Marcus had done, was use me without my consent. He violated me, hurt me, used me, and no matter how sickening that was, it was also what had turned me on.

But now I wanted it. He had my consent, so how could he possibly violate me now? Next appointment would could not be anything but a disappointment. 

Either way, a thousand wild horses wouldn't have been able to keep me from going the next day. My newly found hunger controlled me, and I wanted it to. I was going to go back there, I was going to lie down on his table and he would use me again. He had to.

The next morning, after a sleepless night, I had absolutely no idea what to wear. Dressing up in something sexy would show consent, so that was out of the question. Dressing down seemed contra-intuitive, but maybe it was still the way to go? By using underwear that was harder to remove, maybe I would seem less willing and more fuckable? I pulled a black sports bra over my head and put on pair of matching, tight women's boxer shorts. I regarded myself in the mirror. The shapes of my breasts, waist and ass were accentuated by the bra and boxer shorts, and I figured it was a good mix between alluring and prudent. 



I went to work, already aroused, and spent the whole day trying to focus enough on my dull job to prevent my pussy from soaking my boxers. It was impossible. And then, it was finally 4:45 and time to leave.

I knocked on Marcus door, and after a few seconds of silly panic - what if he wasn't in? - I heard his chair pull back and breathed a sigh of relief. 

He was just as professional as yesterday when he smiled and shook my hand. I blushed.

"Welcome. Come on in." He stepped aside and gestured for me to enter. "You can get undressed right away."

It felt surreal to be back in the room. He sat down at the computer, supposedly signing me in. For a second I wondered if I had imagined the whole thing. There was nothing about this room or this man that seemed even a little indecent or off. The feeling grew stronger after I had removed my clothes and he looked up at me in my black sports bra and boxer shorts, and didn't seem to react at all. Crap. I picked the wrong underwear after all.

"Please lay down, and we'll get started." Again with the professional and disengaged smile.

I got up on the table, feeling worried and already a little bit disappointed. My pussy, however, did not feel the same. It felt wet.

"So, do we prefer lemon scented or no perfume today?"

"Uhm. Lemon scented?"

"Good choice."

I laid down with my face firmly in the hole in the massage table, my legs on the leg rests. A chill went through my body when I remembered him spreading them to get access. I aced.

"The bra", he said matter-of-factly. "Perhaps you can remove it yourself."

He turned his back so he wouldn't see my breasts when I took it off. My heart fell.

The massage was great. Of course it was. His hands were soft and hard and oily, and even if I yearned for them to move in between my legs, I couldn't deny that they felt marvellous on my back. Five minutes into the session he still hadn't made a move, and I started to accept that nothing was going to happen.

But then something did happen. He moved down to the bottom of the bed and spread the leg rests apart. My heart started to beat faster. He spread them wider than yesterday, leaving me incredibly, delightfully exposed. He must have seen how wet my boxers were, but if he had he didn't show it. And he didn't touch my pussy. 



He did however do something to my ankles. First, I felt movement underneath the left leg rest, and then something touched the skin on my ankle. I realized it must be some kind of a restraint. He pulled it hard around my ankle. 

He was tying me down. 

[JEMMA]

I felt a surge of fear go through my body as he got to work on the other ankle. Yesterday I had been able stop him at any time. Being forced to comply was something completely different. And not ok. I had not expected this, and panic started to fill my chest and brain, scrambling all my thoughts until I couldn't think at all.

I tugged at the leather restraints with my legs, but I was helplessly stuck. He didn't seem to care that I tried to free my legs, he just adjusted the leg rests and the restraints a bit, when there was a knock on the door.



I froze. Holy cow. He was going to open the door with me stuck in this position - legs spread wide and tied down, my wet pussy underneath the boxers facing the corridor like an open invitation. No. No. I could not be lying like this when another customer walked into the room to book an appointment. I was mortified.

He opened the door. 

"Hi, for good to see you", He didn't sound as professional as before. Friendly, but civilized.

"Good to see you too, Marcus, as always", a male voice replied.

"Come on in."

What the hell was going on? Why did Marcus let someone he obviously knew into the room, and why didn't he seem surprised to see him? I got up on my elbows and tried to turn around to see what was happening. A loud, cracking noise from my back stopped me half way through. Pain shot through it and I moaned. 

"Nice", the voice said.

"I thought you'd like it."

Oh my god. My brain started to put two and two together.

I heard them moving up to the massage table. The pain in my lower back was so bad I could hardly stay on my elbows. I felt Marcus warm, oily hands on the sore spot, as he slowly and wordlessly began rubbing it. A few minutes of this, I told myself, then I would be able to get up and handle the situation.

"It's all set up", Marcus told the faceless stranger. "Enjoy."

"I always do."

"Can we ..." I started, but Marcus stopped me by pushing a thumb hard into the pain, and I lost my breath. Then he continued massaging me with those strong, soft hands. It had been a warning. At that instance I felt a third hand grab a firm hold of my pussy. No caressing, no touching my butt or the inside of my thighs, just instantly putting his hand on the boxers between my legs and giving me a good, hard squeeze. And oh my god. As shocked and disgusted as I felt, it might have been the sexiest moment of my life. My damp boxers were soaked in a second by this faceless stranger's shameless grabbing, and I cursed my pussy for once again betraying me. I defied the pain in my back and tried to protest, because I felt I had to. I couldn't put up with this. Couldn't just let people have their way with me. But I had forgotten about Marcus and his gentle goddamn touch. Calmly, as if it was a regular massage move, he now pushed both thumbs deep into the most sore part of my back and made me cry out. He knew exactly where the pain was.



"Nice", said the voice again, clearly appreciative of my wail, and kept handling my pussy with an unkind, rough hand. This time, Marcus didn't let the pressure go. The pain under his strong thumbs was unbearable. I held my breath and pushed my breasts into the table to try to shy away from his hands, but I couldn't. The only result was that I lifted my ass against the stranger's intrusive hand. It made me quiver with pleasure, just as Marcus thumbs had me quivering with pain.

"How do I get these off?" The stranger tugged at my tight boxers.



"There's a pair of scissors in the top drawer", Marcus answered and finally released his grip. The strangers hand disappeared and left my pussy yearning for it to come back. Goddamn pussy. A moment later I could feel the cold steel from the scissors press against my lower back, as the stranger started to cut my boxers open vertically, back to front. I realized he was going to cut them open right between my legs, the scissors touching my most sensitive parts. I felt a sting of what could have been fear, but more likely exhilaration. I laid paralyzed on the table. What choice did I have? There were a pair of scissors in my underwear and I my legs were tied. I was compliant.



The scissors reached my butthole. The stranger held them at an angle that couldn't possibly hurt me, but the mere thought of having something that sharp that close to my pussy made an inexplicable wave of grateful affection towards the stranger rush through me.

[JEMMA]

The blades passed my vagina, cold steel sliding across the opening, and moved on to my clitoris. The metal pumped up and down as he cut the fabric, and pressed against my clitoris with every cut. It felt incredible, and I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensation fully. The stranger softly lifted my hips to cut the last part of the fabric in the front, and I helped him. He pulled the cut boxer shorts down each of my legs and grabbed a hold of my now naked pussy again.



"Nice", he said one more time. I agreed.

Marcus was back to massaging me the good way, and the stranger was trying out my hole with couple of fingers. And at that moment, everything was just mind-blowing pleasure. No pain, no fear, just relief from the panic and two men gently caressing me. I was in seventh heaven. The stranger's hands spread my butt cheeks and pussy lips apart, and he pressed his cock, stiff inside his jeans, against me. I moaned eagerly and pushed back towards it. It felt fantastic, his cock just a few millimeters of denim away from entering me, but the voice inside my head was screaming. This man was about to rape me, for god sake! Wasn't he? I mean, I was tied down and I never asked for this. I felt him pull out his cock of his jeans and put its head right up against my hole. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. My head had cleared from the lulling bliss of being massaged all over, and now reality hit me. I was tied up and about to be fucked. The voice inside my head finally reached my mouth.



"Please. I ... don't want this", I said, trying to sound calm and decisive, but I heard my voice tremble. With fear or excitement, I don't know. Probably both. Either way I'm sure it turned the man on exactly the way it wasn't supposed to. I tugged the leather belts around my ankles and tried to force my legs shut, but fighting it certainly didn't make him any less eager to sink his cock into me.

"Just ... don't, ok? We can talk about it. Come up with something ..." The head of his cock kept pressing against my hole, threatening to enter any second. And since my pussy just kept getting wetter, it would slip in quite easily once he wanted it to. The stranger's fingers blatantly smeared my juices across my clitoris, and I groaned. Yes, sure, I was soaking wet from his touch. It didn't mean anything. And it definitely didn't mean I wanted him to fuck me. I could imagine his smile, even if I still hadn't seen his face. 



No, I wasn't fooling anyone. Not even myself. 

"Say, Marcus", said the stranger after toying with me for a few minutes. "Is it possible to lower this?"

"Sure, let me just ..." Marcus bent down and pressed a lever on the side of the table. I tried to meet his eyes through the face hole, but he didn't look at me. The table sank five or six inches.

"Is this enough?"

"Just perfect." 

When his cock once again touched my deliciously unprotected pussy I found myself shamefully relieved. He was going to enter me. Thank god. I closed my eyes and waited for the impact I so desperately needed. His cock was rock hard, and I imagined it much bigger than Marcus. So thick it had to be forced in, so long it would hit the back of my pussy with blissful agony. I silently prayed he would slam it in hard and deep, and that he would make me scream. I had no idea where all of this was coming from, and I was as horrified as I was turned on. Somewhere in the back of my head the voice told me that if I acted like a whore, I would still remember it tomorrow when everything was back to normal. And when I was not tied to a table and dripping with anticipation in this bubble of a room, I would have to live with having allowed this. I would never be able to wash this shame off. I would always know that I like having men abuse me, faceless strangers. There was no turning back from this. It would be a part of who I was forever.



I didn't care. All that mattered was this moment, and in this moment all I wanted was to be this guys whore.

Since they had lowered the table, his cock bent down slightly to slide in between my butt cheeks and rub my pussy as he leisurely stroke it against me. He smudged my juices all the way up to my ass. My hips tried to push against his cock, hoping to drive my pussy onto it somehow, but Marcus grabbed a hold my neck and the back of my head and pushed my face into the hole, effectively stopping my pussy from reaching the strangers cock.

"A towel?"

"Right there", Marcus answered

A towel? What was he going to do with a towel?

A second later, when he put his now dried cock against my butthole, I realized what was going on. He had wiped my pussy juices off himself and lowered the table to get easier access to my ass. Sure, my asshole had been lubricated with my own juices, but only a tiny bit, and only just around the rim. 

He was going to enter anyway.

"No!!" I tried to scramble to my elbows and push Marcus hands off my head, fighting to get him off me. Suddenly being a whore seemed like a really bad idea. I had never had a cock inside my ass, and the very thought of it scared me shitless. Especially a dry cock. Why would he want it dry, for crying out loud?? It was going to hurt like ...



Oh......So slowly lowered myself back onto the table, quickly trying to decide what to do with this realization. He was going to hurt me. He was going to dryfuck my ass (I couldn't believe I was even thinking that word), and the pain was going to be grueling. There would be just enough juices for him to enjoy a rough, forced entry, but there would be no enjoyment in it for me. My ass was going to be brutalized.



But then again ... wasn't that exactly what I had wished for? 'Enough to make me scream', wasn't that the exact words I had used a second ago? Wasn't this what whores liked? No. No, I had wished for Marcus to hurt me, not a faceless stranger. And not like this, by forcing a cock into my ass, but by squeezing my clitoris so hard it went numb. 

Then I realized that Marcus had managed to do exactly what I worried he wouldn't: I was being abused. Some stranger was violating me, about to fuck me without caring about my pain, just like Marcus had done yesterday. This was what I had come back for. I felt scared, humiliated, abused and more excited than I had ever been before. I relaxed back down on the table.



"Good girl", Marcus said softly and stroke my hair. "Good girl."

I really, really wanted to be a good girl.

And then the stranger forced his dry cock into my ass, and I screamed. Marcus held my head down with his strong hands, understanding that my body would probably try to get away even if I wanted this. The stranger let out a deep groan, and in the middle of the excruciating pain I could feel a sting of pride that my ass made him groan. I was lightheaded. Time seemed to slow down and the sound of the room around me felt distant. I noticed Marcus jeans-covered groin right underneath my face - how had I failed to notice? - and the hard bulge revealed how much it turned him on to hold me down while this man broke my ass. Maybe Marcus would put his cock inside me too? 



But then the world came rushing back, and the stranger pulled out, almost allowing me to catch my breath before his shaft went back in, and again I screamed. 

Apparently, I was opening up to him, as if my ass welcomed a much anticipated guest, because with each push it got a little bit easier for him to enter me. Not easy enough for my pain to go away, but enough to have me worried that my ass would be less enjoyable if it got all stretched out. I used all the muscles I had to clutch his cock as tight as I could, trying to pump it rhythmically into my ass.

He moved his hands to my thighs, and with a hard jerk he yanked the leg rests apart as much as he could. The tendons in my inner thighs flashed with a pain that went all the way up to my pussy and exploded there. He held them apart in an impossible angle while he kept shoving his cock up my ass. By now I had stopped screaming, and every muscle in my body was strained as I tried to breathe through the pain. Marcus hands held my head into the table, harder and harder the more vigorously I was being fucked. The stranger was pounding my ass so violently it literally felt like it was going crack. I concentrated as much as I could on the cock in my ass, on the pain and the size and the humiliation, trying to save every detail in my memory so I could bring it back tonight, sleepless in my bed, trying to recreate every moment.



The stranger's balls were small and hard as rocks and hit my pussy over and over again. I felt the wave of an orgasm building up inside of me, every nerve in my body focused on the hard balls hitting my clitoris. Finally, I'd get to come. I had been waiting since yesterday. I was so excited I didn't even notice how the stranger's breath had become heavier, how he'd spread my butt cheeks so wide that the space between them was almost flat, and before I knew it Marcus lifted my shoulders and upper body into sitting position and pushed me down, impaling me on the stranger's cock. There was an explosion of cum filling my ass as I screamed out. I had never had my ass filled with cum before, and the sensation was amazing. I felt it shoot up, over and over again, bubbling and fighting for space in there, trying to slip out around his cock as he slowly lifted me up and down a few more times as he emptied the last drops deep inside me. The cum filled me to the point where I was not sure where it would go unless he pulled out quickly. And he did. I could feel it in there, slowly making its way out of my ass. My stomach turned and I almost chocked. I wanted him to do it again. I wanted to beg.

But he didn't do it again. Instead, they left me there on the table. Soaked in sweat, pussy juice and with cum everywhere, ass and back literally crying of pain. 

"That was good", he said, but not to me. I pictured him drying his cock with the towel again. My ass missed it already. There was literally a cock-sized hole in it. "Always nice to get to force it in."

"I'm glad you liked it."

The sound of the zippers on his jeans.

"How much?"

"$260."

Holy fuck. My cheeks instantly flushed. He was selling me. I was a prostitute. No, worse. There was no way Marcus was going to pay me for this. He was selling me as a service. I guess I had passed his test yesterday.



Money exchanged hands, they chatted a bit about having a beer soon and Marcus told the stranger to call him when he wanted a new appointment - my heart jumped with unwanted excitement at this - and then the door closed. I was once again alone with Marcus. 

[JEMMA]

"That's it for today, you can get up and put your clothes back on." Professional as always.

"Uhm", I said, yanking at the restraint around one of my ankles.



"Oh, right" He pulled them open and allowed me to sit up as he went back to the computer. 

Cum was flowing freely out of my ass now. It was wide open. It wasn't necessarily a bad sensation. I slowly stood up. My legs were shaking so bad I had to steady myself against the massage table. Since I had no boxers left to pull up, I put on my jeans and got dressed slowly, hoping for Marcus to turn around and inspect my exploited body. He didn't.





I secretly wished he'd give me some of that money after all. Partly because I needed them, partly because I kind of wanted to feel like a whore just a little bit longer. The second I walked out that door, this room and all of its ugly, shameful secrets would be nothing but a memory.

"That will be $75", he said, just like yesterday. 



Maybe I should have expected it. But after he had been payed $260 already, it didn't even occur to me that he'd have the audacity to charge me for being sold against my will. Or at least my expressed will. Or at least without outright asking me. I was feeling conflicted about that whole ordeal.

"What ...?" I said, unable to find words.

"Yes?" He looked up at me and leaned forward. He looked so kind and helpful, like a cashier in a luxury store. I glanced at his strong hands, that had just forced my head into the massage table so hard it had been difficult to breath. 

"You just got ... I mean ..."

"A session is $75. Is there a problem?"



"Ehm. Shouldn't ...?" I felt extremely uncomfortable. I did not want to have this conversation. I was incredibly embarrassed, and moreover: I was afraid to fuck up this somehow. I pulled $75 from my bag and payed him, again.

"Thank you. Now let's see. I would like to have you back here ... Saturday at 4 pm? Would that work for you?"

Four days. 

"Uhm. You don't happen to have ... an earlier appointment? I mean, the pain ..." Oh my god. I almost sank through the floor.

He smiled.

"I'm afraid I'm fully booked. I wish I could squeeze you in, but you're going to have to wait a few days for our next session. But you know what? I'll be sure to make it worth your while on Saturday, how about that?"





"I would ... yes, please." So humiliating. "Yes please."

"Ok, well, I'll see you then!""

Worth my while.

The most beautiful words I'd ever heard ........so far....

[NABObitch]

Very nice share, thank you bro!

[biaggi]

Great story here and thanks to TS. Please post more ok?

[dalian]

Love your story and alwsy hope to read more.

[madaphur]

What an awesome story, hope to read more soon.

[Bnzr]

Great story TS, alwsy support this thread.

[curiousSG]

this is a nice story, hope TS will give more updates soon.

[JEMMA]

Four days was a long time. Much more so since I hadn't been allowed to cummed on Marcus massage table, neither by Marcus nor by the stranger whose face I hadn't seen, in spite of having had his cum fill my ass.

I guess I could have satisfied myself during those four days - perhaps already that first night - but something held me back. Somehow, it wasn't for me to determine when I could cum. I couldn't exactly explain it, but it felt like this was what Marcus had decided, and I didn't have the right to overrule him. I was worried he would notice somehow - he had probably used hundreds of women on that table and knew for sure if their pussies had been handled by someone else but him - and for some, unfathomable reason I didn't want to disappoint him.

I tried to get a grip of my feelings for Marcus. It kind of felt like being in love, but at the same time it didn't feel like love at all. There was a devotion, and there was a gratefulness that I didn't understand. Sure, I seemed to like being used, but this was still me giving him something, not the other way around. I was giving him my body, right? I had no reason to be thankful.



That being said, I swooned every time I thought of him. I longed to meet him, longed to make him feel good, longed to please him. It sounded just like being love but it wasn't, because I was also scared of him. I didn't want to make him angry, the same way a daughter doesn't want to make an abusive father angry, or a beaten dog is afraid of his master. I worried that if I didn't come back when he told me to, something bad would happen. I realized how dumb that sounded, but the feeling stayed with me.

Four days was a long time. I tried to fill my days, not with stuff I liked, because I didn't take pleasure in anything at the moment, but with things I needed to do. I cleaned out the basement, finally, and sorted out my insurances. I had an appointment with the doctor and I had promised the local church to help them make flyers for a sermon next week.

I was researching doctors online, looking up reviews and prices. My knees had been acting out for a long time. No pain, but a weird sound every time I bent them. No better time than the present, I thought.

I tried to find a cheap clinic, rather than some expensive one with good reviews. I wasn't poor by any means - on the contrary ¬- but I still felt Marcus had gone as hard on my economy as on my pussy, so it felt good to save some money. The cheaper the doctor the lower rating, but I didn't mind. 

I finally found the perfect one. Dr. Fuck, specialist in skeletal systems and joints. Cheap and only one star. Judging by his photo, he was an older gentleman, not the least attractive. Definitely not a Marcus, which was exactly what I didn't want. I booked an appointment online for the next day. Satisfied with having that out of the way, I returned to cleaning the inside of the kitchen drawers.

I was late to my appointment the next afternoon. A nurse at the small clinic signed me in and told me to go right in - first door on the left, which incidentally happened to be the only door in the whole place. I hesitated outside his of it, unsure if I was supposed to knock or walk right in like the nurse had said. No reason to be rude, I decided: I did a 'shave and a haircut'-rap on the door. Stupid.

Dr. Fuck opened the door and let me in. He was older than in his picture, and uglier. No wonder, I thought, I'm sure they retouch the photos to make doctors look better, so that they'd get more customers. Little did they know I was looking for something not-so-hot. Luckily for him, not even Photoshop had made him handsome.

He looked like a grumpy old man, the corners of his mouth pointing down, greyish hair combed to one side, not even welcoming me in. Nothing like Marcus warm and friendly smile. 

"It says here your knees hurt?" he said surly.

"Well no, they don't hurt as much as they crunch when I bend them."

He didn't answer, just looked at his papers. Too old for computer journals, I guessed.

"Ok, I'll take a look. Remove your pants."

Oh. I felt a sting. Crap. The thrill of being told to remove my clothing overwhelmed me. How the hell did that happen? This was not Marcus, this was not even sexy. Just clinical and with an ugly old fart about to eye me. 

Oh. There is was again.

I controlled myself. This was just an echo of my massage sessions and had nothing to do with this examination. As soon as we got started I would go back to normal. I removed my pants as casually as I could. I was wearing white, lace underwear, but at least they weren't see-through.

"You need to get up on that table", he said and pointed me to something that kind of looked like an actual table, the light turquoise Formica kind. I had to lift myself up, because the edge was above my butt. 

"I need your legs to hang freely." The doctor had obviously had to explain this before.

He picked up one of those things you hit the kneecap with and a pair of rubber gloves, and came over to me, pulling the gloves over his short, crooked fingers.

He squeezed my left knee and then my right. 

"Does this hurt?"

"Uhm, no."

He hit my knee lightly with the little hammer, and my leg jerked.

"Both knees?" he asked as he hit the other one. 

"Yes."

He gripped the folds of both knees and pressed.

"Does this hurt?" 

"No, nothing hurts."

He moved down to my calves and repeated the procedure, and then on to my thighs.

"It might be a muscular problem", he continued as he felt the outside of my thighs and then the inside. I remembered how the stranger had put his hands on the inside of my thighs and pushed them wide apart only two days ago, and I allowed myself to indulge in that thought for a while. 

"Miss?"

I realized I must have missed something Dr. Fuck said.

"Yes, sorry."

"Have you had any muscular pain?"

I almost answered yes, because I had had a lot of muscular pain lately, but not the kind he was asking for, so no.

His eyes seemed to land on my underwear for a second. I instinctively looked down and saw a small wet stain right in between my legs. God, I hoped he thought it was just a little drip of pee.

"Ok, I'm going to need you to stand."

I jumped down from the table.

"Bend your knees, slowly."

I squatted carefully in the quiet room and we both heard the cracking sound.

"I see", he muttered. "Now turn around and place your hands on the table." I did as I was told.

"Lean forward and bend your knees again."

I hesitated. 

"Bend forward", he repeated sternly. I bent forward and squatted again. My knees cracked. I stood up.

"No, I didn't tell you to stand up, please lean forward and bend your knees again."

I went back into position. Then nothing. Dr. Fuck seemed to just stand there behind me.

"Uhm. Can I stand up now?"

He was quiet for another second, and then he said:

"Ok, I'm going need you to remove your shirt now."

I turned to him.

"Why?"

"The bone structure in your knees connects all the way up to your spine and I have to examine it too. I can't help you if you are being difficult."

"Ok, ok." I turned my back again and removed my shirt. I seemed to do that quite often these days.

He pressed his fingers around the spine in my lower back, and I realized my back problems might be connected to my knee problems.

"Oh, maybe I should have told you: I go to a masseur to get help with pains in my lower back."

I twitched as he pressed one of Marcus' spots.

"I can understand that, your entire spine is completely misaligned."

"Oh. Is that dangerous?"

"I can fix it", he answered dryly.

His hands stayed on my lower back and I wasn't sure what to do. Maybe this old man was a bit demented after all?

"How?" I tried to get him to snap back, and it worked.

"Lie down on the table."

Again. I spend all of my time on tables these days, I thought to myself. However, this table was much less comfortable than Marcus'. It was pretty much a dinner table from the seventies, for crying out loud. No wonder this doctor was cheap. But I did as I was told. The table was hard and cold, and a little bit too short, its metal edges pressed against my shinbones.

Again, nothing happened for a while. This was all becoming too weird for me. I turned my head to look at Dr. Fuck, and discovered to my astonishment that not only was he standing there eyeing my ass underneath the white lace, he had also opened his doctors coat and was rubbing a large bulge in his pants. I gasped and got up on my elbows, and he looked up at me. His hand started to move faster.

"What are you doing???"

He didn't answer. Instead he moved around the front of the table, so that the bulge was right in my face. He proceeded to pull it out.

I stared at his cock. It was darker than the rest of his skin, and the hair around it was grey and sparse. The voice in the back of my head had changed its tune a bit over the last few days, and instead of screaming in panic, it now pointed out that is cock was in fact pretty big, and reminded me of what it felt like to have a stranger put a really big cock inside my ass. No, no, I told the voice. There was absolutely nothing sexy about this old geezer waving his big, hard cock in my face.

He took a step closer to my face, pointing the cock towards my mouth. He grinned.

"Come on little lady. Take it in your mouth."

I looked at it again. It would be so easy to just taste it a little bit. Just close my lips around the very tip of it and have a taste. Why on earth I would want that I did not know, but my sick, weird brain decided it wouldn't hurt. The thought was enough for my pussy to start getting wet again.

He took another step and pushed his cock against my lips, beckoning me to open them up. I did. He pushed in.

"That's it, little lady. Open your mouth and let me feel it. And with the tongue, that's right. Lick it."

He didn't taste very good. I had not exactly expected him to. I licked his cock head inside of my mouth, hoping I could get the taste off it. I wasn't going take him any deeper, that was for sure, but this light sucking was ok.

But he had different plans. He took the back of my head with both his hands and pushed his cock further into my mouth. I instinctively put a hand on his loin, holding him back. I opened my mouth and tried to talk with his cock in my mouth.



"Thtop it ..." I said, but he muffled me by pushing deeper. I tried to hold him back, but he was stronger than he looked. Or I wasn't trying hard enough. Hard to tell these days.

"Calm and easy, little lady, this won't hurt a bit." He sounded incredibly sleazy.

His cock was indeed as large as it had looked. My mouth had to open wide to accommodate it. He slipped in inch by inch, and then slowly started fucking my mouth by holding my head and moving his hips. I found myself sucking it - to clean it up so this wouldn't be so gross, I told myself - and he groaned.

"Yes, you like that, don't you? Tasting it in your tiny little mouth. That's what little girls like you like, isn't it?"

He wasn't wrong. 

I sucked a harder, and his grip around my neck tightened as he pushed it onto his cock until it reached the back of my throat. I gagged.

"Yes, good girl, good girl", he grunted and pulled my head back by grabbing my hair, and then he roughly pushed it back onto his cock. I gagged again. "See, you know how to do it. You know how to please old men like me with your little mouth."

Next time he hit my throat I swallowed hard, my muscles contracting as his cock reached them. He groaned again, spinning my hair around his hand until it hurt. 

His grip got harder as he slammed my face against his cock, and gagging again I could feel it entering my throat. 

"You are very good at this, sweetheart", he wheezed. "You have been training a lot, haven't you? Licking and sucking a lot of old men like me. Feels good in your little mouth, doesn't it?"

That did it for me. His cock slamming against my throat, his dirty fantasies ¬- my body shivered, my pussy swelled up and juices started to flow. I moaned into his cock, and felt it vibrate with the sound. He pulled out. I took a deep breath and licked my lips. 

"Now, little girl, you're going to have to turn so the doctor can get a better angle. You want that, don't you? You want to be a nice girl and make the doctor feel good?"

I complied and turned over on my back. I whined as my lower back shot pain all the way up to my shoulders.

"There there, sweetheart, I'm sure you can take a little bit of pain for your nice doctor Fuck?"

I nodded. It was true, I could.

[JEMMA]

Now face was above me, looking down. His lips were moist, and age had made his eyes sink into their sockets. When he smiled at me the wrinkles around his mouth were loose with old skin that had lost its elasticity long ago. He was definitely not attractive, and I suddenly felt grossed out. Had I really had this mans cock in my mouth just now? I instantly regretted it. What the hell had I become?

I tried to get up, but he put his hands under my chin and held me fast.

"Oh no, baby girl, we are not done quite yet. The doctor still wants to examine you a little more."

"No way. Let me go. This is disgusting, you stop right now or I'll ... I'll."

"You what?" he asked with a soft voice. "Surely you want to lick a little bit longer, don't you? I know you find it very tasty."

And with that, he pulled my head and slid my body towards him on the table. My calves and feet were now resting on it, but my head from the neck and up was outside the upper short side. He held it in his hands and looked me in the eyes.



"I'll show you a little trick of mine. You will enjoy it, little girl, won't you?"

I didn't answer. He kept calling me "little girl". It was something creepy about it.

I tried to get up again, but now he had one hand on my throat and chin and the other one on the back of my head, making it harder to get away. He proceeded to bend my neck back, towards the floor, until I was facing his cock upside down.

Oh my god. I imagined my mouth must be perfectly aligned with my throat now. He had been right about having a trick - this was a fantastic way to fuck someone's throat. And to my surprise, he was also right about getting me excited about having a cock shoved down my throat. I mean, having one fill my ass had been magical, and I would never have thought it would be. This should be the same, shouldn't it?

I relaxed in his hands and tried to relax my throat as well as he once again directed his cock to my lips.

"Oh, you will enjoy this, baby girl", he mumbled with a thick voice. "You'll enjoy uncle Fuck pushing it into you."

"Uncle". I should have known. Sick old man.

And then he pushed is cock into my throat. I gagged, much harder than before, and I was sure I would empty my stomach right on his cock. He groaned loudly. When he pulled out I tried to move away, but his grip around my chin tightened and again he pulled my face hard onto his cock. 



"Aaahhh ..." he let out, facing the ceiling. Before next thrust, he pressed the palm of his hand against my throat. At first, I thought he was going to choke me - that sick fuck - but then I realized he was pressing to rub his cock inside my throat with his hand. It might make me choke, I thought, but it didn't actually feel scary. I had ample of time to breathe in between his trusts, and all I really felt was a bit of discomfort.

In fact, I was feeling more excited than I should. I was being violated again. It seemed wherever I went, the world was full of horny men who did not hesitate to force me into taking their cocks in every hole. This dirty old man was using me, and I liked it.



"Aaaaaaaaahh ... ", he moaned again, and I growled quietly, my vocal cords again vibrating around his cock.

I noticed to my relief it wouldn't take him long to finish, I guess throats and nieces was his thing. My throat was getting soar, but If I could just handle another couple of thrusts I would probably be alright. 

Once. Twice.

"Oh, my little girl, my sweet little girl", he cried out. "You've longed so much for uncle Fuck to put his dick in your sweet little mouth, haven't you?"

Third times a charm, they say. 

Instead of emptying himself in my throat he pulled out, lifted my head back up and came in my face. He pumped load after load, cum running down my cheeks and my eyes and my hair, and into my wide-open mouth. I swallowed.



"Yes, yes, that's what you've always wanted." He looked down at me. He smeared his cum around my face with his fingers. "It looks lovely on you, sweetheart. All this tasty cream on your face. You're such a good girl."

Good girl. That's what Marcus had said. I still liked being a good girl.

"Now let uncle Fuck know how much you liked it."

I hesitated, but only for a second. I decided to play along, to be his little girl.

"Yes, I loved it." 

"I know, baby. Now say thanks, like good little girls do." This was absolutely turning me on.



"Thank you so much, uncle Fuck."

He picked up my shirt and handed it to me.

"Ok, enough, miss whatever your name is." His voice changed completely. "I've emptied on you and I don't actually have a niece, so you can cut that bullshit now. There are some paper towels in the back."

I felt disappointed. I wanted to continue this roleplaying, it was kinky, being his little girl and taking his cock in my mouth. I took a couple of paper towels and dried his cum off my face.




"So ... are you going to help me with my knees?"

"Sorry, can't do anything for you."

"But you said you could ... what, realign my spine?"

"I lied."

"So, you just fuck my throat and you're not even going to fix my spine?"

He looked up at me with an irritated frown.

"I seem to recall you were the one who wanted it."

I was astonished. 

"Me?"

"Yes you, little lady. Slutty lace panties, flashing your wet pussy in front of an old man like that. You were loud and clear. You should be thankful I didn't throw you out right away for acting like a slut."

"I ... I ..." ... was at a loss of words. "That's not what I was doing."

"It wasn't?" He lifted a hairy eyebrow at me.

Maybe he was right. OMG! I did put on those slutty panties on this morning. I did search for the cheapest doctor with the lowest rating and the oldest looking photo. And to be totally honest, hadn't I eyed through the reviews to find that his low ratings we're due to him being a total sleazebag? Women testifying to him trying to grope them and making dirty suggestions.

I had. Four days I had to wait, and I had managed two. I had looked up this dirty old man hoping that he would take advantage of me. 

The realization was equal parts terrifying and exhilarating. I had found yet another unexpected side of my sexuality. This week had been absolutely mind-blowing and brought me to places I never knew existed - outside and inside of myself.

And it was only Wednesday......ONE more to go.... ...... ...

[JEMMA]

I was in seventh heaven. In just a couple of days, I had found two ways to get hot and bothered in ways I never had before. On Marcus table I would get to have faceless strangers tying me down and filling my holes, and from my doctors' appointment a couple of days ago I had learned how much I liked to be used by older guys. Preferably dirty older guys.

Both urges were so humiliating, and I still felt waves of shame every time I indulged in fantasies, but the shame only turned me on more. 



It was Saturday, and time for my appointment with Marcus. I was glad Dr. Fuck had cum along up and covered my face in cum in between my massage appointments, or the waiting would have been unbearable.

I was certain that Marcus had a new customer waiting to use me. I fantasized about what holes he would use and how hard he would take me. I wondered with a sting of excitement if maybe Marcus would join in today. Maybe letting me suck his cock?

I even allowed myself to wish he would order me to do little bit of good-little-slut-girl- roleplaying. It had been extremely hot. Maybe I could figure out a way to tease the guys into going for it?



Today I was wearing my pink lace panties. The boxer shorts I had used during my last appointment seemed to have worked, but I felt sexier in these, and I was sure Marcus would come up with a way to make fucking me seem like abuse no matter what I was wearing. 

I kept teasing my pussy all day, touching it while I was working, letting a hand slip inside my panties under the table at a meeting, rubbing it on the hard armrest of a colleague's chair with my legs a little bit too wide apart. I kept myself nice and aroused.

But then at 2pm came the text.

"Unfortunately, I have to cancel today's appointment.

Will be in touch to reschedule.

Best regards,

Marcus Tremendous

Leg. Masseur"

I was perplexed. No massage? No table with restraints? No cum-filled pussy or strangers with huge cocks? I felt like crying. I also understood that was a total overreaction, and I felt ashamed.

I sat down at my desk and felt the heat behind my eyelids.

I was incredibly disappointed. I felt discarded. All my insecurities came rushing in. I wasn't even good enough to use. Marcus had thrown me away like an old, used rug. He had found someone more fuckable than me. Rebecca had sent someone better his way.

I got the urge to call Rebecca, the way I always did when life got the better of me, but I realized she was the last person I could talk to about this. And the first, I observed, since she was the only person I could talk to about this. I was utterly alone.

As if on que, my phone rang, and the screen announced it was Rebecca. What were the odds?

We hadn't talked since Monday when she had fixed me that session with Marcus, or shall I say tricked me into being used by Marcus? I had no urge to talk to her, angry and ashamed at the same time.

The phone kept ringing. I felt miserable. Rebecca was probably the only person who would understand. I decided to answer after all.

"You answered!" she announced.

"I did", I replied gloomily.

"I'm so glad, I haven't heard from you all week and I miss you, bestie!"

Like nothing had happened.

"Well, I haven't exactly been very available".

"No shit", she laughed. "I've been sending you texts. Work still getting to you, is it?"

"Well, yes, but ..."

"That's why I'm calling, actually. It's Saturday, baby, we should totally go out and get hammered and get you to relax a little. Like the good old days!"

"I'm not sure I want that." But even the phone call itself made me relax a little, and it felt good. Rebecca was obviously going to pretend nothing had happened, and that meant we weren't going to talk about it. I could stop worrying. 

Also, it would allow me to go out and get drunk with her, just as she said: like in the old days, without it getting embarrassing. That was a nice thought.

"Sure. I'll hit town, but let's not stay out all night. I'm too old for that shit."

"You are so not too old. I'll show you! You can take more than you think!"

"No, Rebecca, you won't show me. Promise you won't, or I'm not coming."

"Ok ok, we'll call it an early night. Meet me at The Shining Cock at eight, ok?"

"The Shining Cock? What kind of a fucking place is that?"

"It's this new place, I go there all the time. An old-fashioned pub, mahogany walls and plush chairs and elegant bartender and everything, you'll love it! Down at Main street to the left, right across from the hardware store. Where The Dinkie Store used to be, remember?"

"Ah, yeah. That new place. Mahogany, you say? Ok, I'll see you there at eight."

I was still depressed and felt like shit when we hung up, but at least Rebecca gave me something to fill the evening with, and some booze would surely get my mind off Marcus and his table.

I slipped into a cute little dress I got a few months ago but hadn't had the opportunity to wear. Light yellow and wide at the bottom, the kind that would turn into a wobbly flower if I spun around, with tiny pink flowers and thin shoulder straps, covering my ass with a quite bit of marginal. Wouldn't want to seem like a slut in front of Rebecca. Wouldn't want to give her the satisfaction.

I put my hair up in a prudent ponytail and slipped on my ballerina shoes. Then I looked myself in the mirror.

OMG!! I look like I dressed for Sunday school. Modesty in all its glory, I was going out to party, and maybe I should allow myself to look good.

I changed into a pair of yellow heels, to compensate for the sweet, innocent dress, and added to my make-up. Sooty eyes and deep red lipstick. I removed my bra and let my breasts hang loose in the little dress. I stepped back in front of the mirror and regarded the result. 

Yep, perfect. Not too sweet, not to hot. Night on town, here I come!

[JEMMA]

I met up with Rebecca outside The Shining Cock. We hugged like nothing had changed, and then she took my hands and took a step back to inspect my clothing.

"Very suave! What happened to you, were you hit with a sudden little-girl-fetish?" 

My cheeks burned when I heard Dr. Fuck voice in my head. 'Oh, you're going to like this, little girl'. 

"That was definitely not the look I was going for." I tried to sound funny. "I was trying for the 90s grunge look."

"Yea well, girl, you didn't pull it off very well."

I eyed the place. It didn't look like much, and I told Rebecca.

"Doesn't look all that fancy."

"It's just the outside. You shouldn't judge a book by its cover." She took my hand and pulled me inside.

It didn't look much on the inside either. The mahogany walls were less mahogany and more painted pinewood. Less plush chairs and more stalls with worn fake velvet couches. There was a bar and it had a bartender, and he was indeed wearing a suit vest and a white shirt, but he would have looked just as comfortable in a leather vest and a plaid shirt.

The pub was empty. Bon Jovi was wailing from the speakers, and Rebecca went up to the bar.

"One tequila for my girl here, and a gin tonic for me, Mr. Bartender."

"Coming right up, sweetheart."

"Tequila? Why didn't I get a gin tonic?"

Rebecca bent over the bar and hollered at him.

"Get her a gin tonic too, would ya?"

I sighed. When Rebecca got something in her head, there was no talking her out of it. Tequila it was.

We chatted about everything but Marcus. My work, her new lover (she didn't want to call him boyfriend. "Not just yet", she said). New clothes she bought, new furniture I bought. There was a steady flow of alcohol. The first tequila went down nice and smoothly, so I didn't protest a second and a third one. The second I finished my gin tonic I had a margarita in my hand, and when that was gone a strawberry daquiri materialized from out of nowhere. 

"More tequila!" Rebecca shouted cheerfully, obviously almost as drunk as me, and the bartender put up four shot glasses on the bar and filled them all in one sweep.

"Fuck the lemon!" Rebecca shouted and lifted one of them.

"Fuck the lemon!" I agreed, and I downed the shot.

Being drunk felt really good. The world around me disappeared a bit, and my mind was not on Marcus at all. Almost not at all. I saw Rebecca whisper with the bartender and nodding towards me, and he poured me another drink. The pub wasn't empty anymore, which was a relief, since being this drunk alone was slightly embarrassing. I noticed the remaining three tequilas on the bar (three?) and helped myself to another one. 

"Fuck the lemon!" I shouted and slammed the empty shot glass down on the bar. Some people cheered from a table behind us, and I attempted to turn around and bow to my audience. Didn't work. The movement made me lose my balance and Rebecca had to catch me. Thank god for her reflexes. That could have turned out really embarrassing.

Ok, so I was drunk. Not spinning-head-drunk, or passing-out-drunk. The kind of drunk that made you content with the world. Just the kind I needed. No reason to push it. I eyed the last tequila shots on the bar hungrily, but I was nothing if not in control, so I left it there for now.

Someone came up to the bar next to me and waved at the bartender. He ordered four Guinness and a bowl of peanuts. I think. Rebecca was chatting on about this new store at the shopping mall, but I noticed she was looking at the person on my other side. I turned to see who it was.

A big guy, I saw that right away. Hot, I guess, in a biker sort of way. So, this was Rebeccas type, huh? I turned back and gave her a suggestive smile. 

"Go get him, Becksy. I'll be your wingman. Wingwoman." I slurred, but that was ok. I was ok. She gave him a slight nod. "You need to wink", I whispered, maybe a bit too loud. "Else he won't know you're into him." She didn't seem to pay me any attention.

Another person came up and moved in between me and Rebecca when he ordered. I was just about to get annoyed when I felt something underneath my dress. I wiggled my ass to get it off and returned to the man between me and Rebecca.

"Hey you!" I said, before realizing that the thing underneath my dress had not gone away. On the contrary, it had slid all the way up to my pussy and grabbed it hard. It felt really good. I stopped in my tracks, reveling for a second in the fact that my pussy was being kneaded. Fingers were slipping down my underwear and into my pussy. Delicious. I wiggled my butt to get the fingers to move a bit, and at that moment my drunken head realized someone was actually fingering me at a bar. I turned to the big guy on my left and tried to focus.



"Well hello", I said, which was definitely not what I had intended to say.

"Hello you too", the biker type guy said and pushed another finger up my pussy.

"What you think you ... whatcha doing" I mumbled, trying to get my words to come out right.

"Your pussy seemed very enticing, I thought I'd give it a try."

Oh. That sounded about right, didn't it? I was pretty fuckable, and I liked when guys gave it a try.

Was I that drunk? I considered it for a while. I had to think about it a bit longer than usual, but I decided I wasn't too drunk. I could name all the rivers in England. Probably. Maybe missing one or two, but who wouldn't, right? I could remember how many drinks I had had - six, plus four tequila shots (oh God, when did that happen?), and how many Rebecca had had - two, plus one tequila shot. No, I was definitely not too drunk. I was just perfect.

[JEMMA]

All the while - and it had probably been a while, since thinking wasn't my specialty at the moment - the man to my left had played with my pussy, making it wet and willing. I didn't mind, I'd been through worse lately I mused to myself, so I turned back to the bar, downed another tequila shot and ordered a Sex on the Beach, enjoying the fact that I just let the guy continue fingering me. I bet he hadn't expected that! 



By the time I got my drink, he had lifted the dress up on my back and pulled off my underwear. Naaw, my pink lace panties. What good were they on the floor? I wiggled my pussy against his hand and giggled as I more or less downed the Sex on the Beach in one go. I shuddered from the alcohol.

Oh wait, Rebecca. She was around here somewhere, wasn't she? I turned around with his fingers inside me and tried to look past the guy on my right, when I felt a hand pulling down the top of my dress. I looked up at him, surprised. He was handsome, in a humble kind of way. High cheekbones, bedroom eyes meeting mine. I realized that a bra-less breast had popped out. Why wasn't I wearing a bra? I couldn't remember. Oh yea, double shoulder straps. No good. 



Damnit, I was thinking too slow. By the time I had figured out the bra thing, the guy had pulled out the other breast too, and was squeezing one of my nipples. My tits were not small. They were big and full and round and perky and sexy and the nipple was getting stiffer.

Goddammit, gotta get my shit together. Fingers in my pussy, hand on my tit. Good or bad? It felt good, but there was certainly something bad about it. 

Oh yeah. There were people in the pub. That was not good. And they were behind me, where they could see everything that was going on. Not good either

But it actually turned me on a bit. No surprise there, I was a slut, right? Ah, what the hell, let these guys play around with me a bit and put on a show, it's not like I wasn't enjoying it, and it's not like I had something to prove. Also, I would feel bad for them if they had to quit now. I mean, it was only some fingering and some titty-handling, right? And only two of them. I wouldn't want to disappoint. I giggled again.



I reached for my drink and tried to finish the last sip, but it was difficult with the man rubbing my tits. I missed my mouth and I spilled all over my chin.

"Here, this will be easier", said the guy with his fingers in my pussy and pushed last tequila towards me. I love tequila. Down it went.

Tequila guy pulled his fingers out of me and I said "aaaaw" and gave him my best puppy eyes. He pulled my dress above my tummy so it only covered a small part of my ribs just below my tits. Nice and accessible, I mused to myself. 

Tequila guy waved at someone at the other end of the bar. 

"Aww", I said again and wiggled my ass a little. I figured I was enticing, but then again, you always think you're enticing when you're drunk.



I felt my butt cheeks spreading and a finger pushing into my ... into my what? First I figured it was my ass, because it felt just as good as the other times my ass had been penetrated the last few days, but then I was certain the finger was in my pussy. I was very confused. I looked up at Tequila guy, and to my surprise I saw that both his hands were on the bar. No, correction, one was on the bar, the other one on my round, big breasts. God, they really were sexy. How come I hadn't noticed before? No wonder they were touching them.



I was forgetting something, all caught up in how sexy it was to watch two different hands caressing my tits. Oh yeah. The finger in my ass. Or pussy. And then I got it. It was two fingers. Duh. And oh, that felt nice. I turned to Tequila guy and smiled appreciatively, when I remembered that both his hands were accounted for. And I could clearly see Tit guys hands as well, since they were both on my right tit now, rubbing it and squeezing the nipple.



So, whose hand was fingering my holes? It felt fucking amazing. I decided not to give a shit about who the fingers belonged to. Instead I pushed against hard them and let out a moan.

"Would you look at that, guys", said a deep voice behind me. "This slut wants to play."

The fingers pulled out of me and felt a bit taken aback. Aww. I did want to play. But then I got to play again. Fingers back into my cunt, but this time it wasn't one. In fact, I couldn't exactly count them, but there were a lot.



"Aaaaaahh ..."

"Is that how you want it, huh? Well, you'll get it."

Apparently, the guy had not put all his fingers inside my pussy, because I could clearly feel at least two more being pushed in. 

"Yea, you like that?"

I tried to giggle - I seemed to do that a lot tonight - but was cut short when the fingers pushed further in and I realized it wasn't exactly a small hand. Why would it be, it wasn't like that voice belonged to a boy. 

"Hey Carl, you mind if I have some of this over here while you're doing your thing?" Tequila guy asked.

"Go ahead", faceless Carl answered, slipping all his fingers out and back in to open my pussy a few more times. I knew what was going on. Either you took your time to get it nice and open, or you forced it in, that I had learned. Hey, what if he pushed his ENTIRE hand into my pussy? I giggled at the silly thought.

"Quite a giggler, this little missus", Tequila guy said as he took me by the shoulders and turned me towards him. I stretched an arm back to reach for Tit man.



"Oh but what about him? Aw, I want his hands on my little titties", I said.

"Yeah, Bernard, what about you?"

"Oh, don't worry about me, I can have my go after you". I found myself wondering what 'go' they were talking about. 

Tequila Guy had me bend forward, then he pushed a hand on my back to make me arch. 



"Whoops!" I said, doing my best Marilyn Monroe impression, as Carl's fingers suddenly got much better access to my pussy. I wiggled it around a little, just enough to keep his fingers in but still enough tease him. Then I noticed Tequila guys cock just in front of my face. Not the most perceptive today, was I?

"So, missus, would you mind helping me out a bit with this here hard-on I seem to have cultivated?"

I giggled at his elaborate language.

"Much obliged", I answered, trying to sound equally elaborate.

He grinned.

"I'm not certain that little missus knows what that expression means."

No, I was pretty sure I knew.

"That I appreciate it, yeah?"!

"You appreciate helping me out, do you? Well, no reason not go get to it, then."

So I got to it. 

It tasted great. I licked it like a lollipop, sucked the tip, took the full shaft in my mouth, I even pushed it down my throat a bit, that's how good it tasted. Good I had some training.

"Wow, little missus, you really do appreciate a good blowjob, don't you?"

I was just about to answer when I felt the fingers playing in my pussy making a go for it. Carl had grabbed a hold of my buttocks and tried to force his hand into my cunt. It hurt like a motherfucker. Through the pain, I mused at the fact that men seemed to find new ways to hurt me almost every day, but instantly lost that chain of thought when I felt his broad knuckles almost pushing through. I cried out, but forgot I had Tequila guys cock still in my mouth. The only sound I made was a quiet muffle. Carl thrusted again, and it felt like I would break. Thank god pussies don't stay wide after being forced open, I thought to myself. I could get fucked by a thousand big cocks (or by one big cock a thousand times as normal people would) and still go back to my old, tight self. Scientific fact. I loved science. 



And then he broke through. I pulled my mouth away from Tequila guys cock and screamed, and I heard voices cheer at the other end of the pub. I turned to look and saw a couple of groups of guys sitting over in the fake mahogany stalls, cocks in their hands, cheering on the two guys fucking me. Then Tequila guy pulled my face back and skewered my mouth back on his cock. 



Carl's hand was now inside my pussy. His entire hand. He pushed it in and out, carefully, not letting his knuckles slip out. It felt fucking amazing. I reached back and grabbed his wrist and pushed it further into me.