Strangers in a Parking Lot

It was a shabby little unpaved parking lot, with a line of cheap bulbs hanging from a cable stringed atop several polls around its perimeter. They cast a dim glow. To one side was a shack with a curled tin lamp fixture bent over from the roof like out of a 1940's noir film. Underneath, a grim spot of bright illumination showed a bare pine door to the shack held closed by only a padlock. The lot was completely empty.

Jessie stood at its entrance too nervous to cross the border, yet seemingly unwilling to leave. She picked at her face and then bit a nail. She rubbed her neck and then let out an unheard sigh. Then she flicked a lit roach into the lot's dirt across the other side.

What the fuck am I doing here?

But she knew what she was doing there, she just didn't want to think about it.

I should go. Now!

Yet she didn't turn around and face the opposite way. Her legs didn't move to some other spot away from here. Instead, she still stood there, watching the last remnants of red fade from that dying cherry in the dirt. Then she stepped inside, on that dirt, and it was as if she had known all along that she would.

She meandered toward the shack, lazily wondering about its details. Little things on the ground loomed at her: a spent cigarette butt here; an oil spot in the dirt there. Then she noticed that her heart was rapidly pounding in her chest. She looked down at her hands and they trembled. She bit that nail again and her gut clenched in excitement.

Presently, she found herself underneath the lamp by the shack. She looked toward the entrance of the lot, where only moments ago she had stood.

I've got the get the fuck out of here!

She began to panic. Thoughts raced through her head as if in mania, while she pulled at her hair.

What if he has a knife? What if he has a gun?

And then the worst fear of all...

What if he rapes me?

She felt nauseous and nearly threw up, a hand to her mouth. This was too much to handle. It was now time to flee for real. She looked to the empty entrance, and then around the lot to find another egress for escape in case the first was blocked. Disgust flashed on her face as a disturbing notion passed through her mind.

Maybe I want him to rape me...

For certain, she was going to leave. She had put herself into this crazy situation and now she would get herself out of it. Alive! Her survival instincts finally resurfaced and not only did she form the intent to leave, but her legs even began to move toward that goal. She stepped forward. It was just a matter of seconds to freedom! Then she heard a sound and saw headlights turn into the entrance of the parking lot. The beams hit her face and she stopped, staring at those twin lights unable to move, a proverbial deer. Resignation and dread swooned over her as she considered her unhappy fate. She would have no chance to run.

Jessie's nipples pressed out from her white blouse like wax impressions. Her heart pounded; her cheeks flushed; her hands trembled even more so than before; and her breath rasped in and out rapidly in short heaves. The straps to her purse slid off her shoulder and it fell to the ground. She stared down at the bag lying there slumped over, feeling trapped yet knowing she couldn't leave.

Please God, let me live!

Her eyes remained fixed downward, those blinding headlights preventing her from seeing into the front window. Then the engine stopped.

* * *

When it started, it had seemed so innocent. Jessie created an anonymous email address named spermbank@freemail.com and then perused the local Craigslist personals.

Who cares what people think? Nobody will know. I won't even tell them my first name.

She was an island, alone in this world save for family and friends. She would never tell anyone she knew about this dirty little secret. And none of them would know who she is, so they couldn't tell either. She would make sure of that.

She began posting advertisements with titles such as, Bitch sks Hard Cock to Teach Her a Lesson; or FUCK ME LIKE A REAL MAN WOULD. The replies poured into her inbox like a flash flood, but none of them interested her. Several men simply emailed a close-up photo of their phallus' and not a word more. A few others meekly asked if she would kindly be willing to meet. One sent her a photo of a pool of vomit, which for a moment did interest her. Then she got disgusted.

Where is a man for me?!?!

She kept resubmitting her advertisement to no avail. This was no Goldilocks, where some were a little too meek while others too harsh; the right one being somewhere in the middle. No, these replies were from suitors wholly inappropriate to her needs.

She had reached a point of despair. For weeks she had wasted her time searching for something she was now convinced that no one could give: An articulate voice with the right forceful tone; commands that would make her knees swoon; a camel-toe wet stain left down the front and center of her panties as she realized that man's intent. She was ready to give up when it finally arrived. From someone who called himself, "straightshooter," it said simply:

I've seen your postings for weeks. Haven't you found someone to fill you up YET?

At first she was annoyed.

Who is this asshole?

She thought of inviting him for a hook-up only to have some Italian Vinnie beat the shit out of him. But she didn't know any Vinnie. Then she decided to ignore the jerk. But it kept drawing her eyes back to the screen; she kept looking at that message again and again. Finally, she decided to write back:

I'm choosy. Definitely not interested in a dickless twerp like you.

A day later she received a reply:

As you read this think of that cock you dream of sliding in and out. You're hunched over, hands below pushing you up. The small of your back is curved in anticipation, while a hand grabs your hair pushing and pulling. Ass bumps against groin again and again. Then, you gasp as fingers reach around to rub your little button. Would you like to be fucked like that, little cunt?

She closed the laptop and walked away. Trying to ignore the fearful mix of emotions roiling inside her, she decided instead to heat water for tea. A little teapot sat on her stove under the burner while she tapped her foot against the kitchen floor. She became impatient. Then, in a huff, she hurried back to the laptop and ripped its clamshell open.

"Fuck you!" She yelled at the screen.

And then, as if that hadn't been enough, she continued: "Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuuuuuuck you!"

She slammed the laptop's lid back down again. Presently, she had an idea for the perfect sarcastic reply, so she opened it again. Then she closed it and re-opened it once more. She let out an angry humph and started to turn away, but looked back at the screen. She thought of another snide way to reply and a wry, wicked smile formed. As this happened, her hand unconsciously began to stroke the panties underneath her skirt. Then, concentrating on the screen, she sat down on her cheap wooden student's chair, by that little desk, while staring at the reply button on the screen. Then she noticed her thighs tighten up from a wave of pleasure and they closed on her hand like a pair of scissors.

Jessie pulled her little panties down and applied greater pressure, fingers rubbing that little lump of hers directly. Now she was committed to the act and there was no stopping her.

"Oh my God!"

She began undoing buttons on her blouse with the other hand until her breasts were fully exposed. Her legs and calf's clenched in waves from the increasing stimulation. She pinched a nipple to the point of pain. Then her head bent down, hair drooping over her face and stomach cramping, until she finally let out a wail as oblivion followed; a climax stronger than at any time she remembered before.

She sat on the chair heaving from the exertion. A drop of sweat fell off her nose. Then she noticed the teapot squealing.

* * *

In that shit-hole of a parking lot, Jessie started backing away from those bright headlamps until she bumped into the shack door. Her hands pressed against the rough wood from behind, as if she might force her way through. It seemed like some cliché from every horror movie ever made: that scene where some teenage chick, who just wants to be fucked by her stupid boyfriend, instead dies horribly by getting her throat slashed from behind.

She looked left and right for a way to run, but couldn't start out of fear that he might shoot her. She wanted to drop to her knees and beg forgiveness, but she couldn't move. Her mouth stuck to her tongue, dry like sandpaper. Her fingernails picked out splinters from the door's crass wood behind her until one shard pierced the tip of her finger. She pressed down hard to feel something -- anything -- until it had burrowed deep inside her. Then she heard the car door open.

A figure quite unlike what she had expected emerged. In her conversations he had told her he was young and athletic. A former college football quarterback and all around big jock, he had said that he had what it took to make her squeal in delight. All she had to do was follow his command. Instead, what emerged seemed to wear a dress jacket and wire framed glasses. He was a bit portly in the middle. Also, as he came closer he seemed older than he had claimed to be. However, in relief, she noticed no knife or gun in his hands.

"Jessie?"

She didn't answer and continued a downward glare at the dirt.

"Jessie," he said with sternness, "look up at me."

Their eyes met.

"You're nothing like what you said in your emails."

"And yet you're everything you said you'd be. Not fair, is it?"

She looked back down. He came closer to her until she could smell the alcohol on his breath. With his finger hooked into the top of her blouse, he pulled her forward. She felt her knees buckle and could barely stand. He walked around behind her.

"You know you want this," he whispered into her ear. "You, bent over. A cock. Sliding in and out. A stranger, fucking you like a cheap whore. Using you. Taking whatever he wants from you. And you, taking it all in like a good little slut."

"I have to go," she gasped.

"Do you really?"

"Please let me go."

"I'm not stopping you. Walk away."

"Please..."

"Now, remove your belt."

He stepped around to be in front of her again. She looked up but he ordered her eyes back to the ground again.

"My order is to remove your belt. NOW!"

As she was thinking about where best to run she found the two sides of her belt undone in her hands. She couldn't help herself. He then gently removed one strap from her fingers and slid it out from the loops of her jeans.

"That's a good, girl..."

She thought she might pass out from the humiliation. He hooked the top of her jeans with his finger, in a move similar to pulling her forward by the tip of her blouse before, and then dragged her step by step to the car. Its headlights remained on.

"Unbutton and unzip your pants."

"But, I..."

His thumb and forefinger lightly grasped her chin. He pulled it up until her eyes locked with his, and she felt the full force of his command. This man may not have been a jock. He certainly didn't have a flat gut; hell, he might not even be terribly strong. Yet his power burrowed into her like a hornet's sting. She felt the seat of her jeans drop to her ankles. He turned her around toward the hood of the car.

"You want cock, do you?"

She moaned in reply.

"So you want my cock inside of you."

"Yes." Came the quiet reply.

"OK... But, not now."

She started to turn her head to look at him from behind, but he didn't let her finish. Instead, he grabbed her hair from the nape of the neck, like a cat might do to her kitten, and then pushed her face down into the grime of his car's front hood. Her hands found the hood too, elbows jutting out - her blouse now ruined, as she wriggled and protested.

"Do you not follow my orders?"

Bent over the car, he slowly ran a finger up and down the cloth of her flower-print underwear, lightly touching the clearly open, wet, and inviting labia underneath. She moaned as her protestations abated. He once again asked if she would follow his orders, this time more forcefully.

"Yes." She whispered.

"Yes, what? What!"

She flinched at his yell, without any idea of how to respond. A silence developed between them that threatened to destroy the spell, like a pin stuck into a balloon. But instead of telling her what to say, or what to do, he slid her panties down to her ankles and untangled both garments from her legs. In his hands now, he took them to the driver's side window and tossed them into the car. She closed her eyes in response, repeating the words, This can't be happening in her mind again and again.

"You are an insolent little bitch."

Her belt was still in his hand. With the other hand he grabbed her hair, lifted her dirty cheek up off the hood and forced her to look first at the belt in his hand and then into his eyes again.

"You deserve to be punished, don't you think?" he said annunciating each word with menace. "Shouldn't a whiny little bitch like yourself be punished before she gets her treat? You do want cock, right? Shall I punish you so you can have cock?"

He shoved her face back down on to the hood.

"Yes," she whispered.

At that moment she relaxed and closed her eyes, resigned to what was to come. Her pussy was open, juices flowing, and she could not help but notice that this was the sexiest thing she had ever experienced. Maybe he might kill her yet, but at least she'll probably climax first.

The first stroke from the belt hit her left butt-cheek. It stung like a motherfucker. She immediately tensed her legs and sucked a deep in through her teeth. The next stroke went to her right butt-cheek, which hurt even more, and she let out a little whimper in response. Then, alternating one cheek after the next, he continued striking her bottom in quick succession as she felt tears form in her eyes.

"Yes, WHAT, bitch?"

He struck her again and again until her ass turned a deep cherry red.

"I don't know! I promise I don't know!" She screamed.

Even though of shorter stature, he seemed to tower over her. He bent down to her ear and whispered: "Yes, Sir." Then he struck her again even harder than before.

"Yes, Sir." She wailed back, humiliated and crying like a disobedient child. As if struck by tunnel-vision, the pain in her back-side throbbed crowding out all other thoughts and sensation. The blows ended and he dropped the belt to the ground. Her bottom felt raw, its sting intensifying from even the slightest breeze before slowly beginning to fade. Jessie's sobbing turned back to whimpering. A slow pool from her tears had formed on the hood, leaving a little clean spot amidst the grime. As her awareness returned, the man's hand found its way between her legs where he discovered that she remained wet like a broken water main. Moans poured out forth as he worked two fingers inside. She pushed her hips back to force those fingers in and out, while with the nails of his other hand he lightly scratched her tender ass.

"Yes. More please!"

He removed the fingers and she heard him sniff. Then his arm was around her head as he placed them right up against her mouth.

"Clean these."

The humiliations never ceased. She took the fingers in her mouth and licked them, moving her head back and forth as if it was his cock. She wanted it to be his cock. Then she heard the telltale sound of a zipper.

"It's time."

Presently she felt the bell of his member up against her pussy-lips from behind. She arched her back even further and pushed herself out toward him so as to make him enter. But he foresaw this and pulled himself back ever so slightly to keep up the pressure of rubbing against her while remaining fully outside.

"Please, inside me!"

He grabbed her hair and pulled her up again, this time leaning right to her ear.

"What the fuck did I tell you before, cunt?"

"Inside, Sir!"

"You'll get it. I promise."

He pulled the cock up away from her pussy, still slick from her juices, and ran it up her ass-crack, across her little hole, and then up over her backside. Starting the opposite way, he slid it back down, until it just nearly entered her pussy and rubbed against her clit. In this manner, his cock very slowly and very gently slid up and down her butt-crack and back to her pussy again. And again, until she let out a little gasp of horror as she realized what was to come. She lifted her head from the hood to look back.

"I'm scared, Sir."

She almost fell down off the car into the dirt as her knees let go. He grabbed her hip to prevent that.

"Good," he said. "Prepare yourself."

She closed her eyes tight and sucked in a large breath in anticipation. Then she felt it. At first, just a slight pressure as he aligned his cock to the wrong hole and began pressing onward. Soon the discomfort became more intense as she felt his cock's tip force her to slowly open up. Rather than jamming his way in, he took his sweet time. Slowly pushing in and letting up, each little thrust forcing her open slightly more, until -- like a marble might plop into water -- she felt his head stretch her anus fully apart as it slid in. At that moment it became unbearable, she yelped, her eyes opened as widely as they could, and her hand reached back uncontrollably to try to push him away. But from that position she couldn't have reached him, and he wouldn't have stopped anyway.

The tip of his cock, that phallus bell, was inside. But just. He didn't move. As the pain subsided, Jessie's arm and hand moved back into position onto the top of the hood. Then he slowly pushed further inward as she closed her eyes. "It's too big, Sir. Oh my God. It's so big!" He pulled out just a little bit and then slowly inched back inward again. Each time he thrusted inward it became slightly easier until soon they had formed a rhythm of movement between them. The sensations transitioned from sheer pain to waves of sensuality. She'd never felt anything like it -- so different from stimulating her pussy - even when she had used a finger in her ass while masturbating.

"Oh my God, yes!" She said, to no one in particular. Then, losing control she yelled, "Fuck me! Fuck my ass!"

His only reply to was push harder and faster.

"May I please touch my clit, Sir?"

He detected that she was now so hot that the slightest pressure on her nub might send her to ecstatic spasms. But she didn't deserve it. So he grabbed one of her hands resting on the hood, and then the other, and pulled them behind her back and held them both together by her wrists. He didn't say a word in reply and answered by not letting her masturbate. Instead, he fucked her ass mercilessly while she gasped sometimes in pain and often in unexpected pleasure. But before he came he pulled out and stood there behind her, his hard cock sticking out like a pencil in a ceiling tile.

"Why did you stop?"

"Jesus, you're a shitty sub." And then pulled her from behind her back by her wrists up off the car. He directed her to the passenger side door, opened it, and shoved her in. At this point she was too far gone to even consider what risk this might entail, and instead was simply pleased it wasn't over. He walked around to the driver's side and got in.

For the first time, they faced one another in the car's interior light. She saw his older face, graying hair, and little double chin. She, only twenty-two years old, being ass-fucked by this man who must have been at least twice her age -- and wanting even more! He looked down to his cock. In the semi-darkness she could see very light stains of brown up and down the shaft as it throbbed back and forth to his heartbeat. He grabbed her hair and forced her to look in his eyes again but didn't say a word.