The Challenge

The bastard holds my hair as he violates me. He moves my head up and down his cock, where it goes to the back of my mouth. I feel his manhood rubbing against my tongue and over my lips, making me taste him. I try not to think about the taste, but it's not like I can think of anything else at the moment.

The stoned feeling doesn't go away this time. It fades some, but lingers and keeps me in this weird daze. In a way, it makes what is happening not seem real, which is probably for the best. If I consider that I really am being face-fucked in my fav bar, my mind may snap. Especially as I can very clearly feel my tits swinging as he whips my head down his shaft over and over.

Despite what is happening, I discover a few new surprises as I'm used. One, my lips have closed on his manhood. They are tightly closed too, allowing him to feel the softness of my lips as he slides his cock over them. This means I'm actively making this better for him and I don't know why.

Another thing I notice is that I'm not fighting back, at all. I could be pulling back, squirming or a number of things, but I'm not. Instead I am basically limp as he moves my head about. Even now as he starts to thrust as well as shove my head down, I don't fight but let him do it.

Whimpers do come out of me as he pushes my head down his cock as far as he can, where my face presses against his stomach. When this happens, his cock nearly goes into my throat, where I gag, loudly. My stomach clenches and no air moves within me. But in response, he pulls back, only to thrust again, forcing me all the way down his cock, all over again.

Suddenly, he stops. Stops completely. Stops while his cock is still buried deep in my mouth. Doesn't force my head back or forward, nor thrusts.

When I see movement, I look up. He leans over, somewhat, as he makes sure to keep his manhood in my mouth. But now instead of just the emotionless look he wore before, he looks angry. Damn near crazy with rage.

"Feel that cock in your mouth? Get used to it," he taunts, his eyes damn near twinkling as he says it. This crazy bastard is very much getting off on this power he holds, as I feel his cock actually twitch in his mouth at saying this.

"You think you are so great, don't you, bitch? Now look at you. A fat cock in your mouth and sucking on it like the whore you are," he taunts. Again his eyes twinkle, making it seem like he's trying to find the best words to say to humiliate me.

His words hit me rather hard. My gut sort of cringes and sinks, the way it would if my manager yells at me for a mistake I know I made. The sort of situation where you know you deserve the yelling. Yet instead of a mistake, I feel ashamed as I feel he's right. With his cock in my mouth, I know I look like some sort of sick whore, especially as this is in public.

"This is where you belong. This is what you deserve. You thinking you are some hot, successful bitch is laughable. I'm going to make sure you remember your place," he states in that same angry manner.

The crazy bastard resumes face-fucking me, but now he does it furiously. My already dazed and lightheaded mind becomes super dizzy after just a few seconds as he rams my face against his stomach over and over as fast as he can. To make it worse, he thrusts hard as he does this, making it feel like he's punching the back of my mouth and throat with his cock.

Yet another realization hits me, but this one could be the worst of all. I'm wet. I can feel my body and feel that I'm aroused. Somehow, some way, some part of what he's doing has clicked with my body. It's started to enjoy this horrible, inhuman treatment by this evil, crazy bastard.

When I try to tell myself that it's not true, that there's another reason for it, my head gets even more stoned. If I could only think clearly for five minutes, I might be able to figure a way to stop all this. I could figure what I need to do or think for it not to happen. But since the stoned feeling lingers, it doesn't let me think at all.

Finally, the bastard stops. He pulls his cock out of my mouth completely and steps back, where spit and drool drip off of not just his cock, but my mouth and chin. I feel it dripping and hanging down, where it lands on my still exposed breasts.

My face feels extremely warm as I know people are looking. Besides the obvious sight of what's happening, they would have heard all the noise I was making. The gagging noises, the wet sounds, even my protests as I was used in such a depraved manner. Surely the entire bar is looking this way, to the whore that just sucked a man's dick.

"There, your friends are getting a nice, long shot of my cock, so they can think about how you sucked it," the bastard taunts, reminding me that this is all being recorded. He then rubs his wet cock over my forehead, smiling as he does.

"Can I go now, please?" I ask, but there's no venom in it. Just soft, scared tones as I know he's in control. I'm currently helpless, a victim to my own body thanks to whatever crappy drug I ingested. The only thing I can do is ask and beg like a scared little girl.

"Go? I haven't cum yet. Why would you think you're done?!" The man chastises, making it seem like I'm stupid. That I should know his goals and what needs to happen.

"Get up," the man grunts, as if disgusted with me. I do as he says, not really thinking about it as I feel so defeated. But then I discover yet another aspect of all this, which I truly hate. My hands are still behind my head. Despite me feeling and wanting to move them, they stay there. I tell myself to lower them, to at least cover my exposed breasts, but I can't. My body seems to refuse while making me feel even more stoned. My own hands refuse to move because he didn't tell me to.

"Damn it," I curse as I stand, my hands tucked behind my head and tits exposed. I feel them jiggling softly with each and every breath, as if the entire world can see them.

"Turn around and take off your panties. Then bend over that table like the slut are," the bastard orders, pointing at a nearby free table. It's a small table that has two chairs on either side of it.

Currently, I'm facing him with my back to the rest of the bar. Only he can see my exposed breasts or worse, my face. But the minute I turn, the rest of the bar will. They'll get to see everything.

I slowly walk backwards towards the table. In a weird way, I'm finding that I don't mind what is happening as much as I did just a few minutes ago. This weird, un-reality feeling I have makes it extremely easy to give in. The sort of feeling where you think this is a dream anyway, so why not get into it?

I walk to the table, where I know I'll need to finally turn around. When I do, I brace myself for what I'm going to see. Then, holding my breath, I turn, where I see the entire bar.

My heart sinks when I see something I didn't expect to see. No one is looking this way. There's maybe two dozen people in the bar, but they are all in their own world. At their tables, they talk and drink, not caring what is going on to anyone. Even the bartender doesn't seem to care as he goes about filling someone's order.

For some reason I find I want to know what happened to the hooker. So I turn to look at her, wondering if she is still being forced to suck that guy's cock. A part of me hopes she was able to get away.

I find her, now completely naked, curled up in a booth. The man who was forcing her is on the same side as her, where he is very clearly fucking her. His hands are grasping her hips, keeping her in that ball position as he roughly rams her. Her body rocks back and forth in the booth where she keeps her face hidden under the table.

I'm not sure why seeing this hits me so badly. I thought everyone in the place would be looking and staring at such an intense sight. That they wouldn't be able to turn away from people openly having sex. But they aren't. Instead, they don't seem to care, which is worse. They really don't want to know what others are doing here. This bar truly is a horrible place.

Swaying a bit as I see the woman being openly fucked, I start to lift up my dress. I pull it all the way up so my hands can go underneath. Doing this makes my face flush all over again as I can feel more and more of my bare legs getting exposed with my skirt lifted. And if I'm being honest, the only time I feel my skirt being lifted like this is because, well, I'm about to have sex.

Then, in a truly humiliating move, maybe the most humiliating move of my life, I grab the waistband of my panties...and pull down. I slide them down my legs, where I feel the A/C of the bar on my private areas as they become exposed.

My red panties fall to the ankles, where I have to step out of them because I was told to remove them. But not wanting to lose them, I slide them just a few inches forward and under the table, so I know where they are.

As I start to savor the weird, stoned feeling, I begin to bend over the table. My forearms rest on the wooden table as I do this, finding the table to be very sturdy. More and more, I bend over, going very slow.

I make sure not to look up, as I don't think I could handle seeing people watch me bend over like a whore. Or maybe it's because I'm scared it'll feel good if I see something like that. That it'll drive me wild and I'll want more, as my mind seems to think none of this is real.

I finally stop when my stomach rests on the table while my chest and face hang off the side. Again, this is a feeling I've never felt before as I feel both breasts dangling over the side, feeling so very lewd.

The bastard then slowly walks behind me, his hard cock still out as I feel it poke my bare ass. I try not to react, but I do tense up a little bit. I know what's about to happen, and try to mentally prepare myself. Yet I find that despite how horrible this all is, I'm a bit excited. I know it's the stoned feeling doing it, as my body feels like this is a dream so why not get into the craziness?

"You know what, I don't even know why you have this on," the bastard says as he is behind me. My slow working brain doesn't seem to understand what he's talking about but I find out in a hurry when I feel his hands on my dress.

I let out a long "no" which I'm not even sure comes out as he lifts the bottom of my dress. He lifts it from the very bottom helm, making it go higher and higher up my legs. Unlike the way I just did it, he's rough and crude, yanking on it to get it up, then throwing it to expose my bare ass and back.

Even with my ass completely exposed, he keeps yanking, making the dress go up my back. As my head hangs off the side of the table, I know he's going to remove my dress, completely. And sure enough, that's what I feel as he tugs and yanks more and more.

Humiliated, I feel him reach to my sides, where he grabs my arms. He doesn't bother telling me what to do as he makes me put my arms up and by my head. This allows him to slide my dress right off.

I then feel the dress bunching up around my shoulders, it halts do to my chest and head. When it gets bunched up, he gets even more aggressive and forcefully pushes, ripping and tugging until my dress goes over my head and falls to the ground. I watch it as it is removed, where it lands on the bar's floor, looking not like a dress whose purpose is to cover my naked body, but a dirty bunch of rags.

Feeling very much like a whore despite the stoned feeling, I stay bent over, wearing only my bra, which has been pushed down so my tits can be seen. Right as I wonder about the fate of my bra, he grabs the clasp and yanks, breaking it easily. I protest at this, as he didn't have to break it.

A wave of arousal moves all over me as my bra is ripped off. It's the realization that I'm naked. Completely naked. This arousal sort of mixes with my stoned feeling to make me not just excited but super aroused. Like this is the most exciting thing I've ever done.

I just can't believe that I'm naked. Naked and bent over a table in my favorite bar. This is too...out there. It can't be real. None of this can be real. It's too much. It's just too weird and fantastical.

"Stay bent over until I'm done," the bastard orders, as if I didn't understand what his plan was. A sigh is my response, as no one would think he's going to stop half-way now.

"But, hey, to make it fun, look at people. Let them see your face as you're fucked from behind," he instructs in a taunting manner.

These words come out in slow motion for me. I think it happens not because of the drugs, but because that is one of my fears and fantasies. That people not just see me having sex, but I'm made to look at them, acknowledge them, and show that I know what is happening. That they are seeing me during such a personal and intimate act.

I begin to lift my head slowly to do as he wants, but the bastard reaches over yet again to grab my arms. They were hanging off the table, but he grabs both and then pulls them back where he places them behind my back. Stacking one on top of the other, he holds them in a single hand, as if he thinks I'm going to fight or struggle.

As he traps my hands, my head does lift up so I can look forward. Looking at the bar, everyone is still in their own world, pretending none of this is happening. They talk their soft conversations or do their dealings in private. None act as if anyone else is there, no matter what happens.

Then I see that there is someone looking at me. A single person in the entire bar looking right at me. And that's the hooker who is being forced herself. Her rapist, or John, or whatever the term would be, has moved her so she's sitting on his lap, where it's clear his cock is buried inside of her. He's locked his arms with hers to keep them behind her back, where he thrusts upward into her, making her entire body bounce on his lap, her tits bouncing crazily.

The hooker looks at me and we share a bond, as crazy as that is. A bond of knowing we are both just pieces of meat at the moment. That our only worth is our pussies and mouth, to which both are going to be used. That we know what the other is feeling and going through, as no one else in the bar does.

While locking eyes with her, I feel the bastard place his cock at my opening. The feeling of it there makes me gasp as it feels so violating and surreal. But he wastes no time in pushing it forward, allowing it to go fully inside me.

Small gasps and moans come out of me as I feel his manhood. These sounds are caused by the feeling of him pushing my pussy apart to make way for his hard cock. That his hard member is forcing it's way inside me, not caring of how it feels or how tight I happen to be.

It takes just a couple of seconds before he's shoved his cock as deep as it well go inside me. But once he shoves it inside, he doesn't move. Instead he makes me feel his invading cock. Makes me take the humiliating feeling as if to further prove that he's the one in control.

The bastard then pulls his hips back and thrusts, making me yelp. Many guys that I've had sex with do a sort of power-move where they will thrust hard once, pause, then thrust again after a moment, as if sending a message of what's to come. This bastard doesn't do that. Instead he immediately starts to fuck me fast and hard, showing he only cares about getting himself off.

Thrust after hard thrust makes me yelp and cry out. But these soon turn into loud moans as I can't help but give into the pleasant feeling. The feeling of his hard manhood moving in and about my pussy is beyond words. In fact, I think the feeling is amplified due to the stoned feeling. Like it's a mild form of the drug "ecstasy" because it feels great to the point I forget I'm being forced.

My wrists as still held behind me as he plows into me over and over again, driving my hips into the table. And while this happens, I look at the hooker as she too is being fucked. For a while, we share the same look of pained yet pleasured expressions as we probably feel the same thing. But soon my feelings overtake me and my mouth opens in a large "O" shape.

Under me, I feel my tits swing almost violently as he fucks me hard. I feel the way my heavy breasts swing, making it feel like my entire body is going with them, even if I know it's not true. The feeling of it makes me feel humiliated all over again as it turns my breasts into lewd sex objects. It sort of makes me want them to swing so far they smash into my face from being fucked so hard.

The clear sounds of sex are heard over the bar now. At times they are nearly as loud as the music if not louder. From the clapping sound of him ramming into my ass cheeks, to the wet sounds of his cock moving about my wet pussy, to me moaning like a whore. They all join together in a sort of sex show.

Every so often one of the bar patrons turns to look at me. A few even glance out of the corner of their eyes, liking what they see but not wanting to look on altogether. But I know for sure everyone knows what is happening to me, but they keep the "bar code" and mind their own business.

The stoned feeling doesn't ease up as I'm fucked. It stays around, making it feel like time has slowed down forever, making this feel like it is lasting all night long. That's why it feels so weird when I find that I'm about to orgasm. I feel my orgasm build and build, yet at the same time don't.

In the end, it doesn't matter as my orgasm bursts into life, causing me to cum in front of the bar as I'm still bent over and naked. My face flushes hard and hard waves of pleasure move over my body. From my head to my feet, the waves ripple over me, filling me with intense emotions. Never has any orgasm ever felt like this, not even when I've been drunk.

As if knowing I'm cumming, he grabs my hair and yanks. When he does this, my back arches, forcing me to lift up. My wrists are still trapped behind me, forcing my body in a painful position as I'm arched more. And my stoned mind knows exactly why too. My tits don't just swing and sway, they bounce in this new position. They bounce hard up and down, even moving in circles. And the harder he fucks me, the harder they bounce.

The waves of intense pleasure keep moving over me, making me not care about how badly this hurts or how my life is probably going to be ruined. All I consider is how great this feels and how I want it to last. So I keep giving into my strange feelings, allowing my orgasm to go into my very soul, all while it's recorded.

"There we are...there we are..." the bastard then croons and slows down considerably. After he says this, I find out why. With no condom or any other protection, he fucked me until he came, making no effort to pull out. So now I feel his warm seed filling my womb.

Still cumming, but stunned at the same time, I keep looking at the whore. She seems to understand what happened because she gives me a single nod as she's still made to ride the man's cock. It's an understanding nod that she knows he's marked his territory in me, and that I'll have to deal with it. That it's not his problem any longer, but mine.

The bastard pulls out of me after just a couple of more slow thrusts, no doubt because he's stopped cumming. There's no words or orders from him as he does, just a lot of fast, heavy breathing.

I stay as I am, bent over with my hands behind my back, even if he's let go. I'm not sure why I stay like this, but it feels like if I move, he'll notice me and do worse. Or maybe its because he hasn't told me to move that makes me unable to.

"Wonder if anyone is going to want some," the bastard muses and then laughs as he slaps my bare ass. Then, walking around towards my front, I see he's put his cock away. He looks like any other bar patron now, but leaves me naked, fucked and humiliated bent over this table.

"Hey, are you ok?" I hear of all people Katlin ask. But her voice sounds distant and far away. It actually sounds like it's only in my head if I'm being honest. It's enough to make me look all around for her. Only as I knew, she isn't here as she left a long time ago.