Hooker Addiction Pt. 01

*

So my whole life I had this weird fetish. With my upbringing, how I was taught, I had subdued this fetish for the longest. And I am not sure if it is a fetish, or more wicked curiosity spurned onto me from watching porn. I remember the first time I sorta discovered my predilection for this sorta porn. It was when I was eighteen years old. I had clicked the wrong video and before I realized my mistake it was too late. I busted my load to watching a guy get fucked up the ass by some big dicked girl.

Afterwards I felt sick. Dirty. Humiliated. I questioned everything about myself. What did this say about me? Watching some poor guy get... fucked... by a huge cock... Even if the cock was attached to a gorgeous woman, it was still a cock. I didn't even look at porn for over a week, which is a lot for a horned up teenager.

It wasn't until my thirties that I found myself perusing the old seas again, letting my dormant desires get the best of me. I didn't want to, but my brain kept trailing back to that ultimate fantasy. But I couldn't put a finger on why? I surely wasn't gay? Just looking around the bar after work would confirm as much. I liked women. Thick, petite, big chested or slender. I liked them all. I loved women, more than my upbringing perhaps allowed me too. I know it may sound like I grew up in a monastery, but honestly I wasn't. Sure it was on the conservative side, but it wasn't completely deep-fried either. It was just that sex wasn't something discussed nor glorified in my household coming up as a teenager. Most of what I learned about sex was from school and from porn.

Mostly I had been able to ignore this side of me, but as I passed thirty, it had sort of resurfaced. I had a stable job at a law firm. I had a nice suburban house in the small cozy town of Courtington, just an hour or so south of Indianapolis. But as my twenties had been consumed by dedicated academics and by my career, so much else about me had been suppressed.

My fetishes couldn't escape me. Or was it truly a fetish? Maybe it was more of a curiosity. This had been my conclusion before. Dickgirls, shemales. Futanaris. Girls with huge pounding cocks, ramming and punishing innocent poor victims. Jesus save me. I can't keep having these thoughts!

One day I found myself looking for that old video I had been watching way back when, and just like that the flood gates were open. I didn't find the video in particular, but in the process of searching I had opened thousands of tabs with dickgirl porn in various forms. I read and watched so much filth. It started with dildos and toys. Then pegging. Pegging with viler and viler dildos. Men and women getting flogged alike. Then some shemale on girl action, then with men, and so on. With each time I stroked it to some good futa porn, I dove deeper into the futa hole.

Something that always came reeling in with each time I dove deeper was a huge pit of shame. Shame that I, Scott Rivers, would even watch such shit. Filth, as I said. It was so far beyond what someone like me should be into. I was on my way to a good career in administrative law. I had a good baptist christian upbringing, though I went to catholic school. I was better than this! What would my colleagues think? My dad? My mom?

In the end, curiosity got the best of me. One rabbit hole led to another and soon I found myself subscribing to one particular futagirl's OnlyFans account. Some might say it was a giant leap in terms of how far I had fallen, but in a slow process over months it was just a small step. I was a huge porn connoisseur, don't get me wrong, but I had actually never paid for porn before. Even that was a trip for me. As a matter of fact, I didn't really spend that much money on anything. Yet here I was. Paying ten bucks a month to get exclusive content of a dickgirl.

I had found her on PornHub where she posted snippets, and had binged a series of videos of this one particular chick who went by the alias of Hunter. She posted mostly videos of her masked banging away at some lucky guy or girl. Some of them were more brutal, some on the tamer side. But when I really needed to bust after a long tedious session, I always had her brutal ones ready on hand.

One interesting fact I learned when I subscribed to her OnlyFans: she was actually getting paid by the men in the videos. Meaning, they paid to get fucked and be recorded. No doubt part of the humiliation. Certainly it was doubling her profit. "That's so fucking sick," I thought as I stroked myself. "Ngh uh, so pa-pathetic. I'd ne-never!" I was watching Hunter's masked latina face bang away. She was so fucking hot. Big juicy hips and ass, good set of tits. All shining in sweat as she almost boringly thrusted and scolded away at this crying and whimpering young man. "Yeah? You liked that dick? You like paying to get fucked?" Hunter groaned on the video.

"I'd never pay for something like that," I thought, sweat pouring down my face. "Heh, never."

Yet it was such a turn on. Driving me nuts, stoking a raging fire within me. It was hard to think it was even real. While I watched Hunter's big ass flex with each thrust, scolding the poor man for paying her, it was hard to wrap my brain around the reality of this. There was no way these participants were not actors, or something. There is no way people were actually so depraved that they'd pay to get fucked and humiliated to such a degree on video, which she would later make even more money on by posting it on her OnlyFans for others to see. Like me. Maybe it was part of the fetish for some. The risk. The humiliation. The fact that they were paying for their own punishment and loving it.

"Fuck, if I ever, I want it to be her to take my ass for the first time. No holds bar. Fucking pay her to rape me. Ungh. That'd be so hot. Some paid hooker taking my virginity-oh ffffuuuck," my depraved brain as I was reaching my climax. After, in my post-nut clarity, I again felt sick felt sick for even thinking something like that.

I took a long shower, rethinking my life after such jerk off sessions.

Though, of course, I had peeked at her pricing list, which was on her personal website. But just to see what these sick people put on the table. Yes. That is why. She had several items on her menu, and all of it seemed pretty pricey to be honest. My eyes scanned down the list, stopping at a few to get a gist of what it was all about. Just to sate my curiosity what these pathetic guys let themselves get into.

Some were on the 'tamer' side. "Blow job - 100$". That was the starting point. I'd never suck a dick though. Or maybe it was the customer who'd get his dick sucked? Knowing Hunter, it was probably the former... fuck, I was starting to feel things in my dick again...

I scrolled down further. "1 hour no holds barred - 1000$." One thousand bucks to get fucked to Hunter's pleasure and fortune. What in the actual fuck?! Anyway, another that was of the even more extreme options; "The Fuck Toy Package." This was basically a month where Hunter would just show up at your location and fuck you whenever she felt like it. And there was no backing out once you made the purchase. She even had you sign a legally binding contract. Hah! No way. I'd never do something like that! None of these options were ever going to happen. Besides, 20 000 United States Dollars? For that? Pff. To get treated like a fuck toy, like a slut, whenever she felt like it? What if you were in public? At work? Dining with your family? Pff, come on now. That could neeever happen!

Besides, all of it seemed to be recorded for potential future content... And there was extra if you wanted her raw... but that's besides the point.

I scrolled back up again. "15 minutes of fucking. One position. - 250$." Plus extra without a condom. This was Hunter's most purchased item, the website said. "Well, 250 isn't too bad if you're just curious," I mused. "Wait, what am I even thinking here? This isn't happening, Scott. Fantasy is one thing, but doing it is something completely different."

I realized I was scared even at the prospect of considering the idea. The mere fact I even had weighed the prize was something I was terrified by. But also a huge part of me was undeniably intrigued. Best shove aaall those thoughts somewhere else before I did something stupid. I closed my browser and logged off for the night.

*

So the weeks of my newfound discovery of one of my earliest fetishes trickled by agonizingly. Ever building the shame and the intrigue within me. Over the weeks it had become almost an obsession. Not almost. Full on, really. I couldn't stop thinking about how close to a reality this fantasy could be. A few clicks would seal the deal. A few clicks and I could find out just how it felt getting dicked down by the magnificent Hunter. It had been nagging in my mind more and more.

Hunter posted more videos and I consumed every one of them. I was almost hypnotized by the way her shiny latina cheeks assailed some poor customer. The title was "Watch as I take this nerd's ass." The victim squirmed, panted and whimpered as Hunter pressed her hands into his tail bone, pinning him down while she fucked him with her huge girthy cock. "Lucky guy, what a fucking lucky guy," I thought. I couldn't actually see where they connected, but everytime she pulled back I could see part of her shiny shaft. Then the video ended. Fuck, it was one of those. One of those where she didn't show the cumshot. I was so pent up from having slow tugged and edged my way through twenty minutes of careless fucking. I had wanted to bust when Hunter filled his ass with her cum.

Still on edge, I quickly moved to click to her other videos but somehow managed to find myself in front of her pricing list again. I stared at it in harrowing silence. Not utter silence, though. My heart thudded against my eardrums. Slowly, unable to think a cohesive thought, and spurred on my built up depraved lust, I grabbed the mouse with one hand, my other wrapped around my cock, and moved the cursor and ticked off the "15 minutes of fucking. One position. - 250$," and the no condom option. Add to cart. The mouse hovered over 'proceed to checkout', and just before I sealed my fate and clicked it, I abruptly shot my load all over the place. So hard. I trembled all over as I had such an intense orgasm. I didn't even get the rag. I just pulsed and shivered. Just from almost going through with it.

I quickly closed the window. Even using keyboard commands to close so I wouldn't accidentally hit the buy button while moving the mouse. That was too close. I hadn't been thinking. Or maybe I had, but with the wrong brain. Fuck me. Not literally... or... no. No! I shoved myself out of my chair and ran to the shower to rinse myself. Had I truly busted just from making a phantom purchase? Jesus I'm fucked in the head.

But as I showered, thoughts started to run lucid. As they do. This whole ordeal had been pestering my mind for a while, and it didn't seem to go anywhere. And it was just growing stronger. My curiosity and my arousal was unfathomable and mind numbing. Even debilitating.

I found myself arguing with myself, or trying to convince myself... Over and over... that if I tried it... maybe I could get over it. Just thinking about my deepest fantasy becoming a reality was driving my brain into the gutter. Maybe... just maybe... one of the cheaper ones. The one at 250 bucks that I almost bought? That's not too bad. I mean, I never spend money so that wasn't a problem. And fifteen minutes? What even is that? I had probably been in the shower for fifteen minutes already... No... I couldn't give in. As confused and aroused as I was, I still didn't cave.

*

Until one day I did. While watching yet another of Hunter's videos, I found her booking site on my other monitor. My cum filled brain was acting on my behalf, deliberately acting fast so I wouldn't catch myself stopping. "Nothing to lose, it's only 250 dollars and no one will ever know," I thought, peeking back at her hypnotizing thrusting ass, hearing her belittling words on full speaker volume. I quickly filled my name and email address with autofill, hit the checkout button and just like that I came almost as abruptly and as hard as when I had almost bought it the other day. But this time I had sealed the deal. It was done.

I sat there paralyzed. What the fuck just happened? Did that truly happen? I was in shock, honestly. Maybe my imagination was running tricks on me, maybe I hadn't just bought a hooker to deflower me. But no. In my emails I found the receipt, and in my bank account I saw I was 250 bucks shorter than two minutes ago.

As much as I was horrified, I was also starting to feel a small portion of excitement too. I went from asking myself 'is this really happening?' to state, 'this is really happening.' But what now? There wasn't any address, and I sure as hell couldn't accept something like that to happen under my own roof. I'd never be able to live here another minute, especially if I proved to not like Hunter's big cock violating me.

My answer came shortly after, ebbing away every possibility of this being a figment of my imagination. An email popped up with an address for a motel, a time and date. I looked at the calendar. It was happening tomorrow already, at six PM, just after work.

It was strange. I was excited yet utterly nervous. Shouldn't I be more freaked out? This went against so much of what I was. Seriously, am I really going through with this? I decided to get some sleep instead of staying up all night contemplating. I switched off my computer and lay down in bed. Sleep came quicker than I expected.

*

I woke up the next morning. It was half past seven and I had slept through the alarm. Shit! I hurriedly dressed, brushed my teeth, and rushed downstairs. On the way, thoughts of my 'appointment' later popped up again. I still couldn't believe I did that. I immediately started to think of ways to back out. The confirmation I had received was a no-reply one, so I couldn't contact Hunter that way. Maybe if I could show up and just explain it? That it was a mistake and that I wanted to cancel? She was surely reasonable. I mean, sure she was harsh in her words against her victims, but that was just a part of the game. And a lot of her 'cruelty' was probably unjustly assigned to her by my clouded brain at the moment. If I explained, she surely would understand.

Then something occurred to me. Even if I showed up and told her I wasn't interested anymore, what if she just kept the money? I had already paid. In my head, I knew she could just keep it, and I wouldn't be able to say anything. What would I do? Go to the police? She had the money either way, as I had already paid. Oh well, better just reconcile with that. It was probably like gambling. You pay hookers money you expect to lose.

Work was a nightmare, though. I couldn't focus at all, and I was pretty much just lumbering around waiting for the day to end. Boss didn't notice, luckily. I was pretty good at filing paperwork so nobody really noticed my distress.

"You okay?" a woman's voice asked from behind. I jumped, immediately turned. Did I think Hunter would show up here and fuck me from behind? I was being silly. Paranoia and nervousness abound.

It was just one of my colleagues in the next cubicle over, Sera, who was leaning confidently into mine. Both eyebrows raised, showing her genuine concern. Her face was pale, as most redheads were pale, but she didn't have the freckles one would expect. I forced myself to meet her steeled eyes, as to not look at her very respectable frame.

"Yeah?" I answered, trying to sound like everything was in fact okay.

"You seem a bit distracted, is all," Sera said, turning to lean against the cubicle door.

"Heh, stressed. You know, these things don't file themselves," I chuckled, trying to sound less of the mess I was on the inside. Sera shrugged and walked out again.

So I wasn't going totally unnoticed. And I was even such a mess I had a hard time talking to a... normal... girl... My fucked brain even started to wonder what Sera would look like with a cock. I jumped straight past imagining her naked, I guess. Her tight clothing didn't help either.

Finally, the work day ended. The elevator trip downstairs seemed like it took forever. Sera stood in front of me, but I could tell she was glancing back at me on occasion. Was it obvious? Did she know? My paranoia was getting the better of me. Sera was surely just a good samaritan. We had sat next to each other for a few years now, so it made sense.

Outside I found my black 1995 F150(my dad got himself a new pick up so I got the old one). It took me several attempts to get the keys right and start the engine. I was such a mess.

It didn't take long until I arrived at the address. I was determined to cancel the appointment, and thus knocked on the door. It was a small motel just outside of town. Not sleazy or anything, but luckily discreet enough. No one I knew would ever be here, that was for sure. No colleagues out here.

After a minute, I knocked again. Shortly after, a young latina woman opened, and I immediately found her intimidating. I felt myself go speechless. She was already masked in a bandana of sorts, but her eyes looked menacing and fierce. Almost taunting. The second thing I noticed was that she was about an inch or two taller than me, and I am six foot one! I knew from the videos that she had a big figure, but seeing it in person was something else. Her hair was jet black and long, tied up in a ponytail. She looked to be around twenty years old, perhaps a bit older than that, but it was hard to tell as she was masked. She wore white tank top that perfectly outlined her big tits, and baggy sweatpants that were hiding her thick python.

I felt myself become warm, and my palms were sweaty just in her presence. She didn't blink, nor smile. She stared lazily at me, as if my presence wasn't worth the 250 bucks I had paid her. Me on the other hand, I was trembling. Unable to say a word. I was here to cancel the appointment, but I never mustered the courage to even raise my voice. I had no idea what to expect from any of this. Despite her cock cooing me already, she did look friendly. Though also very ominous, especially knowing what this appointment was all about.

"Scott Rivers?" Hunter asked in a Californian accent. I nodded.

Hunter then stepped aside and let me in. No words or anything. It was happening so fast, but slow and almost in a blur. One moment she stood lazily looking at me, guiding me into the room. The next I felt myself crash on my face to the mattress and my slacks got pulled all the way off.

I heard her hawk and spit at my naked virgin asshole. A lid on a bottle popped open, followed by slick rhythmic sounds. Next thing I felt was something large pressing up against my entrance, and with some annoyed grunts from Hunter I felt her rip into my bowels. I had no time to prepare myself mentally for what it would be like to be filled with cock, nor the excruciating pain from getting ripped open.

I hadn't had the chance to see how big her cock was (in person, that is) but I sure as hell felt it. It was unbelievably painful, but that didn't seem to stop Hunter at all. In fact, it didn't seem like she cared one bit. She just made me scream into the mattress louder and louder as she pistoned in and out of my ass without care. I think she was yelling obscenities at me too, but I couldn't hear any of it.

It hurt, it burned, but I couldn't stop myself from getting hard and harder. Through the pain was an almost numbing pleasurable feeling too. As much as my brain was tumbling trying to cope, my body loved the brutal nature of my own deflowering. I wanted this. My body, while in pain, loved getting carelessly used. This was what I had come here for, in reality. Sure, I had the mind to cancel it, but I knew this was everything I had dreamed of in my depraved moments while watching her take other men.