Desolation

Rene swallowed hard and thought of her bank account and the asshole that had just called. She needed the money. She needed the security.

She'd had sex with a couple of girls in nursing school. She wasn't turned on by it but at least she wasn't repulsed by it either. And the male doctor and dinner? No sweat she thought. She hadn't had a cock for a quite a while and this seemed like a no strings attached situation.

"I'll do it."

"Dinner and L.A., Miss Straight Girl?" the doctor half teased.

"Sure."

The doctor's smile slowly broadened as she appraised her new toy for that's all most people were to her, toys, expendable toys. "Great! Do you have a little black dress for dinner tomorrow night?"

"Yes. I think I can impress your man. Uh, should I wear a bra or go braless?"

Rene watched as Dr. Woods eyed Rene's chest and smiled appreciatively, "I think, actually, no bra or panties. Oh, and, umm, I think he'll love your hair in that nice French twist you're wearing right now. I know it does something for me." The doctor winked appreciatively and smiled as she stood. "We'll pick you up about 8."

"I look forward to it."

While all the doctor could think was getting the power she craved and what kind of lover Rene might be, Rene was thinking of paying bills and of self esteem; security.

The doctor stopped at Rene's door then turned back, Rene, "Do you need anything, dear?"

"Uh..., like what?"

"Oh, you know, something for your nerves - or a little pick-me-up? You won't do me any good if you look all stressed out and tired."

"Oh, well, uh, I don't want to impose," Rene lied. She was slowly building her drug habit by scamming doctors she knew who liked her and whom she knew wouldn't might getting her in bed - or at least on her knees in an exam room and a blow job. Here was a doctor offering drugs without Rene having to work for it, at least so Rene thought. She had no idea.

The doctor reached for her script pad, "No problem at all. 10mg Valium, 3 a day and oh, three refills be enough? And, for that little afternoon - or morning - pick-me-up, how about some Dexedrine; don't take more that a couple a day, understand? We wouldn't want you getting addicted."

Rene was shocked and pleasantly surprised and very happy. "Whatever you think is right. I'll be careful about the addiction potential."

"Great. Why don't you take a Valium and a dexie before dinner tomorrow night; it will relax you and get you in the mood."

Dr. Woods handed the scripts to Rene. Rene sat looking at the prescriptions she'd been given and thinking about the money she was going to get.

Valium was as easy for Rene to get as cigarettes but the Dexedrine, legal speed, that was a lot harder to get. Her supply from a script she scammed off an ER doc one night when she came in to help with an emergency case was just about out and they made her feel really good when she needed to be sharp. Her need to be "sharp" though was quickly becoming almost every morning and most afternoons.

She started thinking about what was expected of her: how far was she supposed to go with the male doctor and what was L.A. going to be like? She didn't think of her brother and the drugs and promiscuous sex that had killed him prematurely. Her mind was already drifting back on the promise of the drugs and the money. Both the drugs and the money, she thought, would improve her life - security and pleasure.

Rene was excited.

~~~~~~~~~~

The oral "speedball" - a Valium and a Dexedrine - Dr. Woods had recommended the day before had Rene feeling very, very good. She felt very alive but calm.

Dinner was very enjoyable. Cocktails before dinner, wine with dinner and an after dinner drink; the combination of the pre-dinner drugs plus the alcohol had Rene feeling very loose. The doctor from St. Louis was in his fifties but very attractive as promised. She flirted coyly at first but by dessert, she was practically throwing herself at the doctor.

Just before dessert arrived Dr. Woods cleared her throat, "Well, Mitchell, I think Rene and I need to go powder our nose. We'll be right back."

Mitchell stood and pulled Rene's chair back for her as the women prepared for their trek to the restroom. Once in the restroom both the women emptied their bladders and then stood side by side at the mirror adjusting their makeup.

"So Rene, what do you think?"

"I'm having a wonderful time. I think Mitchell is too."

"I think you're right; I'm very happy. Now dear, don't force yourself on him but I hear that won't be a problem. Mitchell is the equivalent of a male whore when it comes to young women like you. Remember, this evening has to be perfect for him for my sake. Do you think you can handle it?"

"Do you mean you want me to sleep with him?" Rene asked in a hushed voice, looking at the doctor in the mirror.

"Oh, Rene, I wouldn't presume to put that on you but..." the doctor left the implication hang in the air.

Dr. Woods reached into her bag and came out with some small pills. She popped one in her mouth and swallowed.

"Here dear, a little something to get you in the mood and to keep you sharp." Dr. Woods handed the pill to Rene and smiled seductively. Rene took it from the doctor and without looking at the pill and popped it in her mouth; Rene's gaze was still on Dr. Woods.

Rene was contemplating sleeping with the doctor from St. Louis. In the back of her mind she wanted cock. Period. Her sex life had been in a drought. But still, she startled suddenly at the thought: there was the aspect of being a whore. Dr. Woods slipped her arm inside Rene's; whatever reservations Rene had about being paid for sex, about being a whore, left her as the women walked back to the table.

On the way back Dr. Woods gave Rene several of the pills from the restroom. Mitchell stood and held out the chair for Rene. As dessert was coming to an end suddenly Dr. Woods' pager went off. She looked at the text message, frowned and then announced she needed to leave, an emergency at the hospital.

"Uh, Annie, do you need me to come with you?" Rene thought it was a legitimate emergency.

"No, no, dear. Just take care of Mitchell. Mitch, I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Mitchell stood as Dr. Woods stood. They shook hands. Mitchell said, "I'll see you at the office tomorrow morning. It's been a most enjoyable evening, Annie."

"Thank you, Mitch. Rene will take good care of you." Dr. Woods leaned over and kissed Rene lightly on the cheek.

There was a moment of awkward silence after Dr. Woods left the table. Finally Mitchell broke it, "Well...," he said with an affable laugh, "looks like it's just you and me kid. Anywhere to go in this town after dark?"

Rene felt her face and chest flush but her fear of "what next" melted away. She played coy for just a moment. "Well, if it's not to forward of me, we could uh, go to my place," Rene said with a hint of a question and promise in her voice.

Mitchell went through the motion of politely thinking her invitation over and then smiled a charming smile, "I thought you'd never ask."

~~~~~~~~~~

Rene unlocked the door to her townhouse and stepped inside. She turned on the lights and then held out her arms as Mitchell followed her in, "Well, this is it. As you can see from the mess, I wasn't expecting company."

Mitchell had his hands stuck in his pants pockets; he shrugged his shoulders. "Well, dear, there are only two rooms in a house I really care about: the bathroom and the bedroom. And I'm kind of kinky in that I like a woman's messy, unmade bed and all her panties and bras laying around in either her bedroom or bathroom." Mitchell smiled warmly and Rene blushed.

"Speaking of bathrooms; uh..."

"Oh, uh, top of the stairs and left - in my bedroom."

"Now isn't that convenient?" Mitchell laughed.

"My panties are in the hamper next to the magazines," Rene teased.

"I may be a while then dear," Mitchell retorted.

Mitchell headed up the stairs; Rene let him disappear into the bedroom before she started up. She didn't know what Dr. Woods had given her in the restroom at the restaurant but she felt very buzzed and very much like she wanted Mitchell very badly. Her nipples were almost painfully stiff and her sex was swollen and telling her it wanted something in it. Quickly.

Rene stood by the bed. She could hear Mitchell pissing and then came a loud, long fart and a sigh. She smiled, wondering whether Mitchell was sitting on the toilet and the sigh was a product of relieving himself of a portion of his drinks and food from dinner or whether Mitchell had actually gone hunting for her soiled panties. Rene would know in several minutes that he was doing both.

She didn't want to appear completely whorish and just strip naked so she pulled her black dress over her head and took her hair down and shook it out. She put on a tee shirt that she slept in that barely covered her ass and sex. She sat down on the bed, facing the bathroom, and undid the ankle straps of her heels and slipped them off, flexing her toes in her thick pile carpet. Then she put her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands and waited.

Mitchell came out the bathroom presently, his sport coat off and his shirt tail out but otherwise fully dressed. He was pressing the crotch of a pair of Rene's "granny" panties (full size and made of cotton with little flowers on them) to his nose humming his appreciation of her scent.

"You know for an old guy like me, I like to see a beautiful woman in a thong but there's just not enough crotch to adequately catch and collect a woman's delightful, moist, scent."

Rene laughed, "Mitchell, you're terrible! You appear too really like what you smell."

"Oh, my dear, your scent on your panties is like the bouquet of a fine wine."

"Now I know you're full of bullshit."

"No, really. You have a very pleasant musk, salty and sweet. I love it!"

Mitchell sat down beside Rene on the bed. "Well," he said, touching her shoulder and pulling gently at her tee shirt, "I'm glad we both made the decision to keep some clothing on. I didn't know if you wanted to, you know, fuck," he looked a bit sheepish for having used such a blunt word but he continued, "Or something along those lines."

"Hmm, well," she said, touching his face, "I'm up to fucking or something along those lines - if you want me."

"Oh sweet Jesus, I want you all right! I spent most of dinner fantasizing about what I could do with you in a short period of time; wondering if you were a kinky bitch or the 'girl next door' but," he looked at his shoes, "I am still a little bit of a gentleman. I know Annie brought you along as a bribe. You don't have to sleep with me; I'll pave the way for Annie to get the presidency of the society. So..." he looked into Rene's eyes, sparkling blue but lidded; her pupils were dilated, "the call is yours young lady."

Rene pulled her tee shirt over her head, scooted back against her pillow, legs slightly spread. "What are you in the mood for; kinky bitch or girl next door?"

Mitchell stood and smiled broadly at the site of Rene, very pleasantly stoned, naked and aroused, lying in her rumpled, unmade bed. "I see by the gold cross hanging nicely between your breasts that you might be more the girl next door than the kinky bitch but I do so enjoy debauching a 'nice' girl."

He stripped out of his shirt and quickly dropped his pants, sitting next to Rene in her new position. He took off his shoes and socks and then leaned over and picked up the cross. Just his fingertips barely touching the delicate skin between her breasts set Rene's body on fire; she flushed and suddenly felt light headed.

"Do you want me to take off the cross?" Rene whispered hoarsely.

"No, no; leave it on nice girl." Mitchell dropped the cross and caressed the side of her face. She responded with a deep sighing breath as his fingertips moved down her throat, her chest and came to rest on the side of her left breast.

"You are such a looker, Rene. Did your daddy ever fuck you?"

In one sentence Mitchell had ripped the scab off the extremely deep, painful memory of her father.Rene pulled back from Mitchell's hand and tried to sit up more in bed to retreat.

Mitchell saw her reaction, knew he'd struck a nerve but his hand on her breast followed her body back and restrained her from sitting up into a defensive position. She tried to cover her breasts with her arms and she looked away from Mitchell; a sign - in her mind - that she was no longer in the mood. But Mitchell blocked her arms and thumbed her nipple then the fingers were back on her face.

"Please...," Rene pleaded, wanting him to stop, not to go any further.

"Your daddy fucked you didn't he? He made you a kinky slut of a cunt, didn't he?"

Mitchell's voice was soft but firm and taunting. There were tears welling up in Rene's eyes. She shook her head vigorously in response to Mitchell's questions.

Suddenly Rene felt Mitchell's fingers lightly caress her mons and then she felt a long, fat finger sliding between her slickened lips; his middle finger penetrated her without any resistance from Rene's sex. She was wet; very wet and swollen, her clit clearly peaking from its hood and her lips had flowered. Rene stopped her struggles and glared at Mitchell. It was a glare meant to convey contempt and anger, the last warning to stop if Mitchell knew what was good for him. Instead, her eyes rolled back as they closed; she tilted her head back, loudly sucking in air and arched her back, pressing her mons hard against his palm. Her head whipped back forward, her gaze falling back on Mitchell as she let out a series of high pitched, short moans in rhythm with Mitchell's finger moving inside her and hitting pleasure spots deep inside.

Mitchell laughed. "Ah! Daddy fucked you with his fingers first didn't he?" The finger, almost ready to slip out made another quick, deep stabbing penetration producing a liquid squishing noise as it went in. "He violated you with his finger and you, little slut, you liked it too." Mitchell's tone was bordering on cruel and taunting. To him it was just a game, a very well played game tonight. A game and nothing more.

To Rene it was her life, being relived in short, electrical shocking flashbacks. She hated it. She protested with a whine and a vigorous shake of her head but Mitchell's finger put more pressure on the roof of her cunt and was as if he were pressing a button inside her and a wave of pleasure radiated through her belly.

She moaned.

Marchelle pulled the finger back; slower this time. Rene cried out and tilted her pelvis, this time rapidly thrusting her hips a couple of times, rubbing her spread, wet labia against his palm before sagging onto the bed.

"Turn out the light, slut." Mitchell's voice was flat and commanding. The flatness of his tone belied a thick, primal lust that was welling up inside the man. It was the same tone of voice her father used before he fought to mount and fuck his little whore.

Tonight there would be no fight; Rene rolled over quickly and hit the bedside switch for the lights. They were now in almost darkness.

She felt so high; her body - god - it felt so very, very good. She was so hungry to be mounted; to be pressed into the mattress by this man's weight and violated. She was equally angry, remembering her dark years with her father. But between the Valium, Dexedrine, all the wine and - what she would later find out Dr. Woods had given her in the restaurant restroom - ecstasy she simply wanted to be fucked; fucked hard. To feel every square inch of her skin caressed, kissed and sucked. And of course, to come, to reach an orgasmic oblivion that would offset the nightmares Mitchell kept evoking in her memory.

Rene was on her back, her legs spread wide and drawn up. She was panting loudly; waiting to feel Mitchell between her legs and inside her.

She was getting impatient.

She felt Mitchell kneeling on the bed. He was near her feet. His deep voice resonated in the darkness, teasing and mocking at the same time, "Daddy needs some help."

He did not get a chance to complete his sentence. Rene abruptly sat up, reached between her legs and found Mitchell's erect cock. With an impatient, incoherent cry she pulled him forward. His hands landed on her shoulders and she guided him into her. When he felt his cock penetrate her he swatted her hand away and thrust completely into her until their skin over their pubic mounds touched. Rene gasped at the feeling.

Mitchell was certainly impressed by the feel of the velvety slick, fleshy sheath encasing his cock, "Oh, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, sweet, sweet Jesus! You feel so incredibly good! Daddy's little slut! Tell me your daddy's little slut."

"Shut up and fuck me," Rene growled.

Mitchell said nothing in reply. He slid his hands from her shoulders to her breasts, taking her nipples between his thumbs and index fingers and slowly pulling nipples and breasts toward the outside of her body. He then took two or three very slow strokes in her cunt. He laughed. She felt so wonderful to be in and on top of; her breasts were a delight to knead in his hands and she was role playing better than any young woman he role played with in a long time, he thought.

Mitchell heard her sniffle, felt her body shudder as if someone about ready to cry, not anticipating sexual pleasure. Her voice was full of tension and the tears in her eyes as she cried out, "NO! Really fuck me, you fucking bastard! Quit playing with me you sick fuck!"

She locked her ankles around his waist and behind his back and slammed her mons against him impatiently with a grunt.

Suddenly Mitchell felt a flash of anger at her tone and impatience; she had veered from her role as a sweet, slutty daddy's girl to a horny, angry woman, he thought.

"All right, whore," he leered at her, his voice openly thick with angry lust. He released her breasts, pulled the pillow from under her head so she was flat on her back then pressed his weight on her and began thrusting hard and fast. He was grunting with each thrust as if he were trying to go deeper and faster each time.

She felt his body hair rub against her breasts and belly and shaved mons. Her skin was so alive to sensation from the ecstasy. She craved more skin contact and wrapped her arms around Mitchell's shoulders and pulled him flat and tight against her to maximize the sensation of his body movement. She countered each of his grunts with a high-pitched, shuddering cry, each time more urgent in need - and anger - than the last.

Abruptly, involuntarily, she husked into his ear (his face buried on her shoulder), "Fuck your little slut like a bitch! Do me from the back!" She quit counter- thrusting and began to try to push him off; she was struggling to get him off her. Mitchell was surprised but he got the idea and quickly. He pushed off her and in lightning speed she rolled up and onto her hands and knees.

"Fucking mount your bitch, daddy!" she hissed at him. "Do it Goddamn you! Fucking do it! Do it now, you sick, perverted fuck!" Her voice, in the darkness, was now a crescendo of out of control rage and a horrible, insatiable kind of lust.

Mitchell took hold of her hips. He noticed that they were slick with sweat. He moved somewhat awkwardly in the darkness until his belly pressed against Rene's slick buttocks and then he grabbed his cock and rammed it toward her cunt. It took him a couple of times to find and penetrate his target. All the while Rene was now practically shrieking at him, like a mythical harpie, to mount her.

When he finally mounted her it was as if the full descent into raw, primal need swept over them and bathed them in a thick, viscous membrane. He mauled her, viciously kneading her ass cheeks, running his hands under her body and pulling at her belly and breasts.