Whore

Cheryl had always known that one of the dangers of being a hooker is running into a john who gets violent with you. Tonight she found out what that was like.

This was whore-sex, so there had been no kissing, and hardly any foreplay, other than him roughly squeezing and pinching her tits and nipples. He almost immediately mounted her and fucked her pussy hard and callously. Next, the trash talk started: “You dirty whore! Take my cock, you wet bitch!” That soon turned into threats: “I’m gonna beat the shit out of you, you filthy slut!” Even this she had experienced in bed before. But then he held himself up over her and suddenly slapped her across the cheek.

She knew this would happen to her sooner or later, but there is a broad, ugly ditch between imagination and reality. She was totally unprepared for the rush of adrenalin that coursed through her body after that slap. She almost didn’t feel the second slap, or the third, or the ones after that.

Eventually, though, she got her mind to focus enough to yell, “Stop it, you prick! I didn’t say you could hit me!”

He growled into her face, “I paid for you! I can do whatever the fuck I want to you!”

Cheryl struggled to push him off of her, but he was too muscular. His broad shoulders loomed over her, and she could feel his tight ass flexing as he pumped into her. All she could do was slap him back – once. The fury of his response transformed her anger into a fear that she could feel surge out from the center of her being into every point of her body. He hit her harder than she knew she could bear (still with an open hand, fortunately). Then he grabbed two fistfuls of her hair with so much force that she was sure he would pull it out by the roots. The pain and panic left her beyond making a sound, so that she sobbed silently while he practically spat into her face, “WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!”

He kept slamming his cock into her. She didn’t know it was even possible to get fucked this hard. And what was even worse was the copious pussy cream that was slathering his dick and running down between her legs. He looked down at her smugly and said, “You’re gonna cum, aren’t you, you little slut!”

“No,” she sobbed, weakly. Then, screwing up her last remaining courage, she tried to sound defiant as she said, “You can’t make me cum!”

But the harder she fought to try not and cum, the more she wanted to. And the closer she came to cumming, the more smug and brutal the expression on his face became. And that made her need to cum even more. Tears ran down her face as she screamed in orgasm.

Cheryl’s pussy always got very sensitive after she came, so she had never allowed herself to be fucked after she orgasmed. But the man showed her no mercy, and continued fucking her pussy, obviously enjoying her squirming underneath him. At some point, she realized that she was no longer squirming from ticklish discomfort, and was now squirming from arousal. But the man was through using her, and allowed himself to cum inside her. She was amazed by how long his orgasm lasted, and by how much spunk he shot into her.

He got up unceremoniously and stepped to the head of the bed. Grabbing her hair again, he forced her face against his crotch, using it like a towel to wipe his cock and balls clean. Somehow this was even more humiliating than being made to suck him clean (something she had been made to do more than once).

Finally, he grabbed his pants, pulled out his wallet, and tossed five crisp twenty-dollar bills into her face, remarking, “More than you’re worth, whore.”

Cheryl took the bills in her hand and stared at them for a moment. Then, slowly, she began to giggle. She turned to the man and said, “Uhm, do I actually get to keep these, Steve?”

Steve smiled back. “Well, given that you and I have a joint checking account, I guess it’s really just an honorary transaction. But you certainly earned something, sweetie.” Cheryl chuckled and slipped the bills into her purse on the bedside table. Steve went from smiling to looking concerned, and asked, “Was I too rough?”

“Oh, not at all, baby,” Cheryl replied, giving him a huge grin. “I told you that I wanted it as rough and nasty as you could give it to me, and you delivered.” She lifted her leg and ran her delicate foot up and down the inside of his thigh. “You seemed to really get into it.”

Smirking, Steve said, “And you seem to really enjoy being treated like a whore.”

Cheryl looked at him with feigned shock and said, “I don’t know WHAT you mean,” cupping her hands in a halo over her head.

Steve laughed. “You faker!” And then he sat down beside her and started to tickle her, until she dissolved into tears of laughter.