The Girl with the Whore Tattoo Pt. 02

With the heat on your back and in your gut subsiding you're left with a sense of rationality once more. The thick load shot deep inside you has started to mix with your own juices, and the cocktail is quickly seeking a way out. Cleaning up before going home would be the best plan, but as you head out of the alley you quickly realize one fatal flaw with your plan. A glob of cum and lube cocktail drips from your freshly fucked pussy and rolls down your thigh. The droplet leaves a sticky streak down your leg, and a shameful blush spreads across your face. Any place that would let you clean up would also see that you'd just been creampied. You think back to the strange way you acted around that tourist, and the heat in your back and belly intensifies. Well, showing people that you're a slut isn't so bad, right?

You stumble out of the alley like a drunk, and start wandering down the street past your car hunting for a place to clean up. It'd be just plain disrespectful to show up at your Master's place with another man's cum in you, and so you'll bear the shame if it means showing up with a clean pussy for Master to play with. It takes some time to find a pub that's open and might allow for non-customers to use the restroom. The pub's fairly clean, and only populated by the bartender and a burly fellow who looks down on his luck. Both of them look to you when you enter, and after several seconds of silence it becomes obvious that they're staring.

"C-Can I use the restroom?"

A quick point of the finger and a nod of them head is all the response you get, and you head over while leaving a visible trail of liquid behind you. Once inside the restroom you quickly discover that you aren't alone: A tall and thin redheaded woman stares at one of the mirrors while applying charcoal black lipstick. She looks vaguely familiar, as if you'd seen her before in a dream or nightmare, but a name doesn't leap forward to assign itself to her face. She smacks her black lips together, puts away her make-up, then turns to face you. She's boldly wearing a practically skintight white cocktail dress so sheer you could see her underwear-if she were wearing any. A pair of heels matching her dress's color, and an odd looking red-and-black choker that seems just slightly too small for her, finish our her ensemble. Looking at the choker excites some animal part of your brain, and you feel a sting of heat from your back once more. How can she even breathe in that thing?

Her D-cup bust is plainly larger than your own, but her waistline and hips give her a slimmer figure than your own. Her face and tanned skin sell her as a foreigner, but where precisely is hard to place. She has mixes of Arabian,German, Greek, and Persian that look like those composite images of people on the internet. Her body seems to carry very little fat aside from her bulging chest, and even less muscle is visible on her frame. An oddly competitive thought pops into your mind, and you immediately brush her off as someone your Master would not be interested in. Content in your meagre victory you find that she's been evaluating you as well, but not nearly in the same way.

Her oddly dark eyes seem to strip you bare, and she stares at you like a shopper judging a choice cut of meat. There's plainly no illusion of you as a person in her mind, but rather she's already decided what you are: A meal. A dark smile spreads across her lips, and for some reason your tattoo starts to burn. Not the pleasurable warmth it had when that tourist fucked you, but a stinging pain that causes you to yelp and drop to your knees. Some rational part of your brain says someone had to have stuck you with something, but trying to move your hands to your back proves impossible. You look up at the woman from your position on your knees, and the pain in your back instantly disappears as the warmth from before returns.

"On your knees already? Ha. I suppose it fits you. You certainly look happier like that."

You can't recall smiling, but the thought of being on your knees in front of her makes you happy. It feels correct. Perhaps she's right. Perhaps you do belong on your knees rather than standing like a real person. That thought heats up your face and your belly, but not as much as her movement. She steps toward you in the familiar click-clack of shoes, and instinctively your gaze goes down to her shoes. It'd be impolite to look her in the eyes. Both of her heels are immaculately white and quite tall, and you briefly consider the dexterity necessary to walk so confidently in those. Wait, why did you think about being polite to this person? She stops in front of you, and seems to admire you in silence for a moment.

"Rough, but you know your place."

She reaches down to grab your chin, and pulls your vision upward. Eventually she stops your head as you're staring at the hem of her cocktail dress, and you understand what she wants from you. But acting without being told would be disrespectful.

"Give me a kiss, pet."

You lean forward without a word or even a second thought, slipping your head under her dress and craning your neck to see what she's hiding beneath it. It's not surprising in the slightest that she's forgone panties, and you're staring into her moist pussy like she's a goddess given flesh. You lean forward and awkwardly kiss her. A shiver runs up your spine as the familiar salty bitter taste of semen greets your tongue. You briefly consider what she was just doing before, but she reaches around to the back of your head and pulls you upward toward her. Your lips press against her own.

"Eat me, pet. Clean it all up like a good girl."

Your tongue slides out and spreads her open tentatively. The oddly sweet, almost fruit-like, taste of her pussy sends another shiver down your spine. You lean forward and dig your tongue into her depths, blushing intensely as the thought of being her toy, her tool, to use fills your head. You quickly become certain she was busy before when your tongue starts finding globs of sticky bitterness her previous lover left inside her. You pull them free, suckling softly to pull them into your own mouth, and swallow them without a second thought.

A glob of cum drips out of your own pussy, and a deep but thoroughly enjoyable sense of shame fills you. Here you were kneeling down in front of a stranger you'd just met, eating her out with little more than a few words shared between you, and drinking the cum another stranger had squirted into her without protest. And what's worse: You were enjoying it. You weren't even a sex toy to her. Just something to clean her pussy out. You had somehow become less than the whore you'd been for that tourist, and devolved into nothing but a tool. After several minutes of kissing, suckling, and licking her pussy the woman relaxes and allows you to pull away. She forces you to tilt your head back until you have to look her in the eye.

"You're a good pet, and an excellent pussy-cleaner. I would love to keep you, but something tells me someone else claimed you."

Being praised for such shamelessness reminds you of your Master, but the woman takes no head of it. She steps away, then motions for you to stand. You do so without thought, and simply watch her hypnotic style of movement. The sway of her hips, her confident stride, and the way her chest jiggles makes it impossible to look away. Certainly she couldn't be showing off for you, but perhaps she simply moved in that eye-catching way out of reflex? Rather than leave she straightens her dress, turns around to look at you, and motions for you to follow.

"Come on pet. My friends need a whore to help them, and you're just the kind of meat they'd love to fuck."

Your body flushes with equal parts excitement, shame, and joy. You couldn't possibly do that. You'd only come in to clean up, but now she was wanting you to fuck who knows how many people? But those thoughts are blown away when she narrows her eyes and gives you a cross look. The heat of your tattoo stings once more, and your body moves to follow her despite the protests from the tiny bit of rationality left in you. She stops you at the door, then points to a nearby sink.

"Leave your clothes there. You won't need them."

"B-but I've-"

A firm hand grasps your chin, and you stop speaking immediately. The woman glares at you, but doesn't strike you. All the same, her angry gaze feels like a blow to the gut.

"Strip, whore."

You find yourself shrugging off your top quickly, exposing your breasts to the world, without any further protest. Your skirt goes with it, but you keep your choker on. That was your collar when you were in public, and no one could remove it except your Master. Oddly, the woman makes no comment on your choice to leave it on. But she does reach up and pinches one of your bare nipples. A sharp tinge of pain shoots through you as she twists her fingers.

"Unpierced?"

She pulls on the nipple captured between her finger and thumb.

"Surprising. Perhaps he's keeping it in his pocket as a reward."

She finally lets go of your sore flesh and addresses you directly.

"Tell your Master when you see him that were you were disrespectful and refused to be an obedient cumdump. I'm sure he'll be quite happy to hear that."

With that said the woman walks out of the bathroom, and you follow without a word. You find yourself in front of the bar, naked as the day you were born, except for the cloth collar trapping your neck. The two men there stare, dumbstruck, at you and don't seem to notice the tall stately woman at your side. A disgraceful sense of pride comes from that minor reaction, but they notice her as soon as she coughs.

"Gentlemen. I know you're having troubles at home. So, I've provided you with this nubile young whore to be your cumdump for the evening."

A sharp slap on the ass from the woman elicits a yelp from you, and she unceremoniously pushes you forward.

"Please, do what you will to her, as long as she isn't hurt. She won't try to stop you, will you slut?"

No thought goes into your response, and you reflexively deny it.

"N-No. I-I won't stop you."

"What a good girl. So, be a good little whore and tell them what you want."

"F-fuck me. P-Please. My pussy, my ass, my mouth: Please fuck me wherever you'd like!"

You speak without thinking, and your body practically turns pink as you blush from the words coming out of your mouth. Yet you wouldn't deny them, even in the private chamber of your own mind.

The two men look confused, glancing at one another as if this were a trick or some kind of hallucination, but the woman simply slaps your ass once more. The loud crack of her hand across your flesh, your pained yelp, and the shameful look of enjoyment that spread across your face is all the convincing they needed. Both men strip off their clothes as they approach you, and the woman guides you over to a smaller table. She instructs you to lay across it, and soon you're on your belly staring at the men as they approach. One's already hard, and seems larger than that tourist from this morning. Your tongue darts out to licks your lips, and he seems to notice.

In moments you're staring down his veiny erection, and without ceremony you part your lips and swallow him. His long cock fills your mouth quickly, but your position doesn't allow him into your throat. So instead you settle for softly suckling on his shaft and occasionally licking his knob, sometimes turning your head and letting him see your cheek bulge as you try to get him deeper into you. You start getting lost in servicing and worshiping the cock in front of you, but the other man quickly reminds you that you have more than one dick to take care of when he grips your hips.

You wiggle your hips as little as you can, and the other fellow presses the tip of his member against your pussy. The cum dripping out of you from before, combined with the session with that woman in the bathroom, left you wetter than you had been after your paddling this morning. So your second lover easily spreads your pussy as he spears you with his cock. His sudden intrusion sends a shiver up your spine, and you moan around the dick in your mouth. The owner of the cock in your mouth thrusts upward, but all he succeeds in doing is blocking your air rather than getting into your throat. But the fear of not being able to breathe brings its own joy.

You wiggle once more, trying to get the men impaling you on both ends to start moving, and they quickly oblige. Both thrust as deep into you as your spitroasted position allows, your pussy and mouth being abused simultaneously as the two strangers eagerly use your body for their own pleasure. Each thrust into your mouth cuts off your air supply for a few seconds, while each thrust into your pussy destroys more and more of your rationality. Thrice in one day you were getting slammed, used, and abused by total strangers. Your new lover's eager thrusting into your pussy picks up the pace, and you tighten up around him in reflex. A throaty moan escapes your throat, but it's cut off by more cock being fed to you.

Thrusts from both men get faster and faster, and you can barely hear their breath coming in faster huffs over your pounding heartbeat. What little rationality left in you said to struggle. Both of them were getting close to orgasm, and this would be the second time today you'd be getting a creampie from a stranger. But even as you thought to to get away your body wiggled closer, and you rise your bottom toward him. The heat in you couldn't be sated so easily with a mere fucking.

His cock throbs, and you try to perk your rear up so he can't escape. He thrusts into your pussy, and you squeeze him tightly. You want him to cum in you. You crave it. No, you need it. Your pussy was made to get fucked and filled with cum! The world explodes into starbursts of color as a sudden and powerful orgasm blows away what little rationality was left to argue against your acceptance of being a good little whore.

Both your lovers oblige your unspoken request. The man using your pussy thrusts in deeply, and begins unloading his seed into you. The thick spurts of cum and sheer volume make it obvious that he hasn't been jerking it or getting laid recently. The cock in your mouth trembles, then sprays its thick man juice onto your tongue. Its owner moans and twitches, and you seal your lips around his shaft to catch everything he's got to give you. A few seconds pass, and you're stuck in the blissful feeling of having both mouth and pussy filled with delicious spunk.

Both men eventually pull away, and you give a parting lick to the man you sucked off. You groggily look around, but the woman is gone. Both men are busy picking up what clothes they discarded, and you're left feeling quite happy and full. The woman's words ring through your head as you consider what to do next. You'd have to clean out the extra thick load occupying your pussy, and then tell Master that you tried to argue with someone.

Oh boy, Master will definitely not like that. Not one bit.