sophiem

Female
From
CA, US
Chapter 4: The Way It Goes


“That’s just the way it goes,” Joselyn told me with a laugh. We were sitting at a patio table at a coffee shop near the spa where she worked. After that crazy night at Lincoln’s, she had taken me home the next morning. We had both been awake before the guys, and it turned out they’d taken her car from wherever they’d been earlier the previous night. I remember noticing a thong on the floorboard and thinking it was very unlikely she’d been the one driving. Probably otherwise occupied.

That morning, she had been like, “Come on, Lincoln will appreciate not having to get up to drive you.” I was amazed she could even walk after what they’d done to her the night before, but I felt like she was right and agreed. She promised to text me in the upcoming week to get together, and now here we were. It was around three because she’d scheduled her lunch late so we could meet after I was done with school.

“I guess it’s just a lot to process,” I was telling her. “Is it ok if I ask how everything started?”

“Sure—it’s no great story really though. James and Delvin work together, you knew that? (I did.) Right, so there’s a bunch of offices like that around here including theirs, and the employees hang out after work a lot. Mostly at the nicer bars, you know? Finance types, lawyers, whatever. James basically picked me up one night. Nothing super romantic.” She laughed. “It wasn’t my first time—I like what I like, and he picked up on what that was right away. I went home with him. It wasn’t long before he was sharing me with Lincoln and Delvin, and like two other friends of his. You’re not upset about that right? About Lincoln?

“Oh god no,” I told her, and I meant it. “He’s hot, and you’re, like, really hot, so of course. And he told me that night, kind of taunted me with it. While I was watching you guys.”

She laughed. “Typical. You know they probably wanted you to see that right? I bet they planned that *******.”

“Really?” I thought about that for a second. That was…something I would have to unpack eventually. Right then I had other questions though. “So I guess what I also was really wondering about was, umm…like how,” I was stammering like an idiot because I didn’t know how to broach this.

“Oh my god you can say it,” she laughed. “You want to know about them slapping me around? The really rough *******? What that situation is all about?”

“Yes,” I said, relieved she seemed so open to talking about it. “I mean I could tell you were into it, but it was just, like, intense, and sudden?”

“I guess you maybe didn’t expect it,” she observed, laughing again. “Look, like I said, this isn’t the first time I’ve been in this type of relationship. The first time was actually, well, right where you are right now. Senior year.”

“Actually?”

“Yeah. Pretty similar. I met this really hot black guy a few years older than me. Not like James or Lincoln or Delvin though. Let’s just say quite a bit rougher around the edges?” She grinned. “Anyway, it wasn’t like I was exactly pure and innocent before that point, as I’m sure you heard.” She did have a bit of a rep when we were in school together, but I felt like it’d be rude to confirm it. She went on anyway, “Pretty soon it was, well, pretty similar to the situation I’m in now, just the apartment wasn’t as nice.”

“And that’s just kind of your thing now?” I had to admit I was super intrigued.

“That’s my thing. One of them,” She confirmed. “Let me ask you this though—how did you feel when you were watching us? It’s definitely not like you ran away in horror or something.”

“I…well if I am going to be honest watching you guys made the sex with Lincoln even hotter.” I thought about what that might mean for a second. To kind of like seeing that was one thing. To be expected to participate in it was a lot different though. “Is that what Lincoln’s expecting me to do eventually?”

Jocelyn seemed to think about that for a few beats. “Look, it’s like this. It’s kind of an expectation, yeah. That’s fair to say I guess.” She paused again. “I have a pretty good idea how you guys’ relationship probably goes. He’s super dominant, probably has you doing all kinds of things and expects you to do them just because he tells to you right?”

It sounded bad when she put it like that, but she wasn’t wrong. “Yeah basically.”

“Don’t give me that face.” She smiled at me again. “There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s hot as fuck and you like it. I know you do, especially with how much time he spends with you. I’m a little jealous to be honest,” she stated with another laugh.

I was nonplussed by that. I couldn’t imagine her ever feeling jealous of me for any reason. She didn’t seem to be expecting a reaction though, because she just kind of plowed on.

“Anyway, I think it’s like this: guys like Lincoln, situations like this, I feel like it’s kind of inevitable. He’s got this pretty white girl wrapped around his finger, and it’s not a romance thing. He knows you both know that. He’s going to want to share you with his friends, and they expect him to do that. It’s a power thing I feel like. Bragging almost. That’s just how it goes.”

“Like he owns me.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“Yes like he owns you. And stop trying to pretend you don’t love that *******. You’re not fooling me. And you’re for sure not fooling him. Embrace it!”

I suddenly found my coffee cup very interesting to stare at. She was absolutely right. So what did that mean?

So I’ve probably given you the impression so far that my relationship with Lincoln was only about sex and…ok, that’s basically accurate. I mean we talked and had some common interests, but like I’ve said before, he certainly wasn’t my boyfriend, and I wasn’t sure friends was an accurate description either. As I’ve already pretty thoroughly put out there, it was anything but a co-equal relationship. But friends do friends favors, and I knew that if I were in trouble or something he’d probably help me if I asked, regardless of what we actually were. It’s not like it needed to be defined. So why dwell on it?

One thing I liked to do a lot then was get high. I was channeling my inner Lana Del Rey pretty hard that year. Lincoln would occasionally get me weed, which I feel like was fair, since I basically gave him on demand blow jobs, among other things. Abbey and I were planning to go to Venice Beach on Saturday, and we wanted to smoke a little while we were there, so I texted Lincoln around midweek to see if he could help me out. What I didn’t know at that moment was that there would be some strings attached this time. I knew he was at work and was happy when he texted me back about an hour later.

LINCOLN: Ya give me a min will see what I can do.

ME: thanks!

I figured it’d be quite a while before I heard back from him, and was surprised when I got another text back maybe twenty minutes later.

LINCOLN: On the road but James can hook you up pass by at 7.

ME: ok thanks! he knows i’m coming?

LINCOLN: Yes. Do what he says.

ME: ok?

LINCOLN: I mean it you do whatever he tells you.

I wasn’t sure how to respond to this, but I had a pretty good idea of what he meant. Just like that, here it was. It’s hard to describe how I felt in that moment. Part of me was scared and nervous for sure, but there was part of me that was excited and a small part that felt almost relieved. I didn’t understand that last feeling at all, at least not right then. I was still staring at my phone like a dummy, but I had to respond, so I gave him the answer I pretty much always gave him.

ME: ok

LINCOLN: Good girl.

Now what? Like what the fuck? I was lost here and needed guidance, and after a minute I realized I should text Joselyn. Go with who knows, right? I kind of outlined the situation and forwarded her the last text and asked her to call me NOW. She got back to me pretty quickly.

“So I’m guessing you’re feeling a little bit conflicted?” She seemed amused.

That was an understatement, to say the least, but I just told her yes.

“I mean we kind of talked about this before but you seemed reluctant to go into it. I think because you didn’t really need to ask. You get it. It’s just happening sooner than you were expecting?”

“Yeah, I guess? What do I do?” I had like four hours until I was meant to go over there. This was not abstract anymore.

I heard her laugh. “Lincoln wants to push you, see how far you’re willing to go for him like we talked about. He’s sending you to James first, to see how you’ll react. What you’ve got to do is decide if that’s a path you want to go down. And you need to follow your heart on this, not your vag.”

“Ok so…”

That musical laugh again. “Look, if you’re truly torn and want my advice, it’s this: just go for it. You’re leaving in August for school. Have some fun. If you want, you can go and find a sweet college boy then. Or keep being a slut. You can do anything you want, so if you feel like you’re ok with this, all I can say is that it’s amazing sex. I highly recommend it.” I heard her laugh again.

“And what if I don’t do it? Like, what if I just don’t feel like I can?”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah, honestly,” I said after a couple of seconds.

“I mean it’s not like Lincoln would stop seeing you at all I don’t think. I mean you’re pretty and he clearly enjoys you. I do think he’d probably start to lose interest though. I feel like part of the thrill for guys like him is in seeing how far you’ll go like I said. He wants to see how much you’ll give him. He calls you his bitch and he wants you to act like it. It sounds bad when I say it like that, but I think you know what I mean?”

I thought you about it for a long moment, and told her, “Yes, I think I do.”

“Yeah, so it’s kind of expected. If you’re enjoying it—and I know you are because I could hear you over there too the other night.” I could practically hear her smirking through my phone. “You were begging him for it.”

I started to say something, but she kind of cut me off.

“Hey, it’s cool! It’s not weird or anything. It feels good to just totally let go and let someone else be in complete control. It’s freeing. Have your fun!”

“Ok thanks…I guess I have to think about it?”

“Oh my god Sophia. No. You don’t. Text me when you get there.”

When I did get there just after seven (because of course I went), I sat in the car thinking for a minute. Even given everything that happened, everything that had evolved about me sexually, this felt like a big step. It was one thing to have a kinky relationship with one guy, but now he was basically telling me who else to fuck. Like, well—like I was his bitch. Which let’s be honest, I was. I was not sure how to feel about that. Part of me had this absurdly hurt feeling that Lincoln didn’t want me all to himself. Which was stupid. For one, he was apparently regularly fucking Joselyn too, which fair, I couldn’t blame him there. And we both knew this wasn’t romance, it was about sex. So what was I afraid of right now? Like I’d really be a slut if I did this, but all the other slutty and degrading ******* I practically begged for didn’t count? That was clearly made no sense.

James was hot, so it wasn’t that I didn’t want to from that perspective either. So if I’m a slut, I thought, so what? A little late to be worrying about that now. Plus that’s my choice and not anyone else’s concern. Sticking to what was becoming a running theme in my life, I told myself fuck it and got out of the car. I sent Joselyn a text saying I was there and going in and she sent wink and heart emojis back, with “Text me after!” As I was walking up, I felt that weird, distant feeling of relief again. Looking back, I think it was because I had known this was coming and was glad to be facing it instead of wondering about it.

When I knocked on the door, I heard James yell to come in. He was standing in the kitchen and it looked like he was busy chopping some green onions of all things. Making dinner or lunch for tomorrow I guessed. He told me, “One second,” and went to the sink to wash his hands. Then he walked into the living room without saying anything else. I followed him after a second or two. He was standing near the couch and I was about ten feet away from him, just kind of standing there like an idiot, with no idea what to do. Finally I kind of stupidly blurted, “Lincoln said I could come by?”

James didn’t say anything for a long few moments, just kind of looked me up and down. I felt even dumber. Finally, he curtly snapped, “Come here.”

I walked over to him, stopping at a normal conversational distance. I was dressed super casual, hair in a ponytail, wearing cut-offs and a spaghetti strap t-shirt. He kind of stared at me, waited a beat or two, then, without saying a word, grabbed me by the waist of my cutoffs and roughly pulled me to him. I felt him put something in my pocket, and I assumed it was what I had asked Lincoln for.

“That’s the first thing you need,” he told me. He let go of my cut-offs, and I just stood there looking up at him. “I know you know what’s up. The door’s right there and you’re free to walk out. No worries. But do it now if you’re gonna.”

I was almost pressed up against him I was so close. I’d like to say all kinds of healthy self-reflection was going through my brain in those few moments, but it was nothing like that at all. Quite the opposite. I was basically standing there empty-headed. After what seemed like a lot longer than it probably was, James grabbed me roughly by the throat and pulled me to him, giving me a long kiss that I can only describe as lewd. There was nothing tender about it at all. He broke the kiss and let go of my throat, which caused me to actually stumble a little. I could hear him kind of laugh under his breath. Then, one word: “Strip.”

If I were going to walk away in an effort to preserve my dignity or rethink my life or whatever, that would have been the moment. I didn’t. It was like a switch had been flipped and the analytical part of my brain got turned off. I stepped out of my sandals and pulled my shirt over my head and off, then slid my cutoffs down and stepped out of them. I was standing there in matching boyshorts and bra, and he was still just looking at me. Right. I took them both off, bra first, and now stood there nude in front of James, who was still fully clothed. In the back of my mind I thought that this nude/clothed situation was kind of becoming a thing with me, but that didn’t make me any less turned on by it. I was still only about a foot and a half away from him.

Four words this time: “On your knees bitch.”

I obeyed instantly and heard a little snicker from him. He undid his pants, pulling them down a little, and I got my first close up look at his cock. He was hard already, and about as think as Lincoln, but longer. He had really nice balls too, big and smooth. He still wasn’t saying anything, so I figured he was assuming I knew what I was supposed to be doing. I reached up and wrapped my hand around the base of his cock. He was darker complected than Lincoln, and the contrast with my skin was even starker. It looked really erotic to me.

I started by kind of kissing the head of his cock, trying to make good eye contact with him. He seemed to like that, so I took him into my mouth, slowly and gently at first, trying to get everything as wet as I could. I wanted to make this feel really good for him, in part because I didn’t think I wanted him to start aggressively fucking my face like I’d seen him do to Joselyn, but mostly because I was already in that submissive headspace where all I wanted to do was please. He seemed to be enjoying himself because although he had grabbed me by the ponytail, he was just letting me do my thing. I was able to get him further down my throat, still going slow but trying to be kind of dirty about it too, because I felt like that was what he wanted. I could still keep my hand wrapped around the base his cock while taking him as far down my throat as I could without gagging. He was big.

He let me keep going for a while then pulled me off of him by my ponytail. He kind of jerked my head upward so I was looking up at him and slapped my face, snapping, “Get on those balls slut.”

It wasn’t a hard slap, but pretty firm, and I’d never had that done to me before. I’m sure all sorts of thoughts should have been going through my head right then, but my brain seemed barely functional at that moment. Also, I kind of knew it was coming. What I did feel was this little thrill go through me, from my stomach like a little lightning bolt through my pussy. I instantly obeyed him, actually moaning a little I was so turned on. I could hear him laughing while I was licking and sucking his balls. I’d gone from nervous to mind-numbingly horny and desperate to please him in a matter of minutes. It was kind of pathetic, to be honest.

“Back on it,” he ordered, slapping me again. I felt that little lightning bolt again, then just smiled at him and obeyed. He liked that: “Yeah bitch, smile and keep sucking.” He let me do that for a few minutes, then came another one-word order: “Up,”

He was pulling me to my feet by my hair, and simultaneously guiding me over to the sofa. He smacked my ass like I was a sheep he was herding or something, then ****** me to my knees on the sofa, bracing me against the arm on the end in basically the same position he’d had Joselyn in the other night. He slapped my ass again, hard, and I felt his fingers inside me, probing to see how wet I was, which was extremely. I hazily thought that this was about to be the second person who’d fucked me on this sofa. I moaned softly again. As rough as he was being it felt so fucking good.

“You dumb slut, you fucking love this.” His fingers were gone, and now I could feel him kind of slapping his cock against my ass. I couldn’t help but imagine what that must look like, and it made me hornier if that was even possible. Then he slid his cock into me with one slow, smooth motion. It must not have been hard for him to do, probably because I was practically dripping wet, but it hurt a little, and I think I kind of cried out. He grabbed my ponytail, pulling my head back, and smacked me really hard on the ass again.

“Shut up and take this dick.” He was fucking me really deep, not particularly hard or fast, but holy ******* it felt so good. That brief little bit of pain was gone, and he was just super deep in me—I could feel his balls hit my ass with each thrust. He was also directing a steady stream of verbal abuse at me, accented by repeatedly spanking me, but I didn’t even register most of that because I was just cumming practically the whole time. My whole body felt like it was impaled on James’ cock, and I was kind of shuddering all over a little as he steadily fucked me.

“Fuck, that pussy tight,” James kind of grunted. He must have been about to cum and didn’t want to, because he really slowed down then, eventually just kind of stopping entirely but still balls deep in my now slightly sore and pretty thoroughly abused vagina. I swear it felt like the end of his cock was somewhere in my stomach. I couldn’t move really because he still had me by the ponytail and I was pushed down into the sofa arm by his weight on me. After a few moments of this, I could feel him slowly pull out of pussy.

“Don’t move,” James ordered me. I kind of sensed him get up, and then he walked in front of me. Thinking I knew what he wanted, I put one hand around his cock, which was still super wet, and went to take him in my mouth. That earned me another slap in the face, harder than before.

“Balls bitch,” he snapped. I made a little involuntary noise when he hit me, then meekly obeyed, licking them as best I could from the awkward position I was in. He didn’t make me do this for very long before pulling me up by my ponytail again. I kind of panted for a second, catching my breath, then he ****** me back down onto his cock, making me take him as deep as possible. I did the best I could, but he was really forsing his cock down my throat and I started gagging pretty quickly.

“Dumb slut,” he kind of muttered, pulling me up again and letting me catch my breath. His cock was drenched in my saliva, so much that I could actually see a little dripping off it. I took him back in my mouth again, trying to go slower, do better, but he was rough and impatient, kind of fucking my face now like he’d done to Joselyn, but not as roughly. I was gagging again pretty quickly anyway though, and he pulled me off again.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” he asked, rhetorically I assumed, as the question was accompanied by another hard slap to my face. “Lick it you dumb slut, try that,” he ordered, and I did my best to comply, submissively kissing and licking his cock, even more desperate to please him at this point. Part of me thought I was failing to meet expectations, I guess. If I’d had any thoughts of dignity earlier, they were for sure gone now. I tried to take him in my mouth again after a couple of minutes of that, and even as aggro as he was, that seemed to amuse him. He let me suck him for a while, then finally let go of my ponytail and stepped away, leaving me kind of collapsed over the arm of the sofa.

I sensed rather than saw him move around behind me again, and could feel his cock sliding back and forth lewdly at the entrance to my still drenched pussy. With another hard slap to my ass, he was back inside me, fucking me deep and slow like before. Pretty quickly though, he began to pick up the pace, slamming into me pretty hard, forsing me into the arm of the couch again each time. He had grabbed my ponytail again, and between that and the way I was braced against the sofa by his weight, he basically had total control of my whole body. I could only move where he let me. The steady stream of verbal abuse never let up, same as when he was fucking Joselyn like this the other night, and he was still spanking me hard pretty regularly. I was sure my ass was red as fuck by now, and I was constantly moaning in a mixture of pleasure and a little bit of pain at this point. The verbal degradation was making the sex even more intense and hot for me, but I felt like James was finding the whole situation amusing.

“Actin’ like I’m about to break your frail ass,” he kind of scoffed, with what sounded like a mixture of amusement and derision. He didn’t let up on how hard he was fucking me. “Not yet bitch,” he added, punctuating that with yet another hard smack to my ass. He finally kind of slowed down a little and started just going as deep as he could each thrust, which felt amazing, with just a little undercurrent of pain to it.

He definitely liked to talk even more than Lincoln, and he was still saying all kinds of degrading things to me as he fucked me, telling me how dumb and slutty I was, and how he was going to use me any time he wanted. Then I felt something else wet right on my asshole and realized he’d just spat on me there. I felt his finger kind of probing, almost teasing me. I was too far gone to really care at that point, and it felt kind of good anyway. He kept fucking me slow and deep, and after a few minutes, I felt his finger enter my ass. It felt weird, but not bad in any way. What was left of the rational part of my brain thought that I better come up with a plan soon because I probably wasn’t going to be spared from having a cock up there for too much longer after tonight. That whole situation didn’t last long though, because a few moments later, he pulled his cock out of me and dragging me off the sofa by my hair.

“Get on your knees,” he kind of panted, and I did what he said, knowing what he wanted. I went to take him in my mouth, but he still had me by my ponytail and ****** his cock down my throat. I wasn’t prepared at all, and when he came I tried to swallow, but he was too deep down my throat. I gagged and wasn’t able to get anything down, instead winding up with cum all over my chest and dripping from my mouth and chin. Some of it dripped on the floor. James pulled my head up by my ponytail and slapped me again, hard.

“Lick that ******* up!” He ****** my face down onto the hardwood floor, and I did what he’d ordered. It was so degrading, but it gave me this super sexy feeling to be ****** like that. I really can’t explain it. I should have been humiliated and revolted, but I never for a second felt like that. In fact, it was like a part of me at that moment had internalized all the abuse I’d been taking, because I had this thought like, you shouldn’t have made a mess you dumb slut—do better. It took me a few seconds to lick everything up, and James kept my head pushed into the floor until I did. He finally let me go and collapsed back onto the sofa, leaving me kind of crouched there, my chest still covered in cum.

“Clean up. Get dressed. Lincoln’ll tell you when to have your ass back here,” James told me, his voice actually kind of mellow now. I think I just kind of meekly acknowledged that then went into the bathroom and tried to clean myself up as best I could. James was still lying back on the sofa with his eyes closed when I came out, and for the second time that night, I was standing nude in front of him while he was basically still fully clothed. This time he didn’t even look up. Expectations were obvious. I quickly got dressed and walked out the door.

When I got to my car, I sat and just caught my breath for a minute, trying to collect myself. It hurt to sit—he hard really roughed me up and my ass had taken most of the abuse. That and my vagina, which was also pretty sore. I used the rearview mirror to look at my face. My cheeks were a little red from being slapped around. I also realized I’d gotten cum in my hair, which is the absolute worst. I was a mess. After trying to touch up my face at least a little, I sent Joselyn a text:

ME: so basically he fucked my brains out and then told me to leave. i have cum in my fucking hair. In my car.

A minute maybe passed, then:

JOSELYN: lol congrats you’re a thot!

I thought to myself that it was a good thing she was basically a ten with a marketable skill set because her jokes weren’t going to get her anywhere in life. But, once again, she wasn’t wrong. This situation had gone totally off the rails, and I didn’t even care. I realized in fact, that despite how thoroughly I’d just been used and how sore I was basically everywhere, I was still really horny. What was wrong with me? Maybe James was right. Maybe on some level, I really did just want to be a dumb slut? What was I supposed to do with that revelation?

TO BE CONTINUED
 
Chapter 4: The Way It Goes


“That’s just the way it goes,” Joselyn told me with a laugh. We were sitting at a patio table at a coffee shop near the spa where she worked. After that crazy night at Lincoln’s, she had taken me home the next morning. We had both been awake before the guys, and it turned out they’d taken her car from wherever they’d been earlier the previous night. I remember noticing a thong on the floorboard and thinking it was very unlikely she’d been the one driving. Probably otherwise occupied.

That morning, she had been like, “Come on, Lincoln will appreciate not having to get up to drive you.” I was amazed she could even walk after what they’d done to her the night before, but I felt like she was right and agreed. She promised to text me in the upcoming week to get together, and now here we were. It was around three because she’d scheduled her lunch late so we could meet after I was done with school.

“I guess it’s just a lot to process,” I was telling her. “Is it ok if I ask how everything started?”

“Sure—it’s no great story really though. James and Delvin work together, you knew that? (I did.) Right, so there’s a bunch of offices like that around here including theirs, and the employees hang out after work a lot. Mostly at the nicer bars, you know? Finance types, lawyers, whatever. James basically picked me up one night. Nothing super romantic.” She laughed. “It wasn’t my first time—I like what I like, and he picked up on what that was right away. I went home with him. It wasn’t long before he was sharing me with Lincoln and Delvin, and like two other friends of his. You’re not upset about that right? About Lincoln?

“Oh god no,” I told her, and I meant it. “He’s hot, and you’re, like, really hot, so of course. And he told me that night, kind of taunted me with it. While I was watching you guys.”

She laughed. “Typical. You know they probably wanted you to see that right? I bet they planned that *******.”

“Really?” I thought about that for a second. That was…something I would have to unpack eventually. Right then I had other questions though. “So I guess what I also was really wondering about was, umm…like how,” I was stammering like an idiot because I didn’t know how to broach this.

“Oh my god you can say it,” she laughed. “You want to know about them slapping me around? The really rough *******? What that situation is all about?”

“Yes,” I said, relieved she seemed so open to talking about it. “I mean I could tell you were into it, but it was just, like, intense, and sudden?”

“I guess you maybe didn’t expect it,” she observed, laughing again. “Look, like I said, this isn’t the first time I’ve been in this type of relationship. The first time was actually, well, right where you are right now. Senior year.”

“Actually?”

“Yeah. Pretty similar. I met this really hot black guy a few years older than me. Not like James or Lincoln or Delvin though. Let’s just say quite a bit rougher around the edges?” She grinned. “Anyway, it wasn’t like I was exactly pure and innocent before that point, as I’m sure you heard.” She did have a bit of a rep when we were in school together, but I felt like it’d be rude to confirm it. She went on anyway, “Pretty soon it was, well, pretty similar to the situation I’m in now, just the apartment wasn’t as nice.”

“And that’s just kind of your thing now?” I had to admit I was super intrigued.

“That’s my thing. One of them,” She confirmed. “Let me ask you this though—how did you feel when you were watching us? It’s definitely not like you ran away in horror or something.”

“I…well if I am going to be honest watching you guys made the sex with Lincoln even hotter.” I thought about what that might mean for a second. To kind of like seeing that was one thing. To be expected to participate in it was a lot different though. “Is that what Lincoln’s expecting me to do eventually?”

Jocelyn seemed to think about that for a few beats. “Look, it’s like this. It’s kind of an expectation, yeah. That’s fair to say I guess.” She paused again. “I have a pretty good idea how you guys’ relationship probably goes. He’s super dominant, probably has you doing all kinds of things and expects you to do them just because he tells to you right?”

It sounded bad when she put it like that, but she wasn’t wrong. “Yeah basically.”

“Don’t give me that face.” She smiled at me again. “There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s hot as fuck and you like it. I know you do, especially with how much time he spends with you. I’m a little jealous to be honest,” she stated with another laugh.

I was nonplussed by that. I couldn’t imagine her ever feeling jealous of me for any reason. She didn’t seem to be expecting a reaction though, because she just kind of plowed on.

“Anyway, I think it’s like this: guys like Lincoln, situations like this, I feel like it’s kind of inevitable. He’s got this pretty white girl wrapped around his finger, and it’s not a romance thing. He knows you both know that. He’s going to want to share you with his friends, and they expect him to do that. It’s a power thing I feel like. Bragging almost. That’s just how it goes.”

“Like he owns me.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“Yes like he owns you. And stop trying to pretend you don’t love that *******. You’re not fooling me. And you’re for sure not fooling him. Embrace it!”

I suddenly found my coffee cup very interesting to stare at. She was absolutely right. So what did that mean?

So I’ve probably given you the impression so far that my relationship with Lincoln was only about sex and…ok, that’s basically accurate. I mean we talked and had some common interests, but like I’ve said before, he certainly wasn’t my boyfriend, and I wasn’t sure friends was an accurate description either. As I’ve already pretty thoroughly put out there, it was anything but a co-equal relationship. But friends do friends favors, and I knew that if I were in trouble or something he’d probably help me if I asked, regardless of what we actually were. It’s not like it needed to be defined. So why dwell on it?

One thing I liked to do a lot then was get high. I was channeling my inner Lana Del Rey pretty hard that year. Lincoln would occasionally get me weed, which I feel like was fair, since I basically gave him on demand blow jobs, among other things. Abbey and I were planning to go to Venice Beach on Saturday, and we wanted to smoke a little while we were there, so I texted Lincoln around midweek to see if he could help me out. What I didn’t know at that moment was that there would be some strings attached this time. I knew he was at work and was happy when he texted me back about an hour later.

LINCOLN: Ya give me a min will see what I can do.

ME: thanks!

I figured it’d be quite a while before I heard back from him, and was surprised when I got another text back maybe twenty minutes later.

LINCOLN: On the road but James can hook you up pass by at 7.

ME: ok thanks! he knows i’m coming?

LINCOLN: Yes. Do what he says.

ME: ok?

LINCOLN: I mean it you do whatever he tells you.

I wasn’t sure how to respond to this, but I had a pretty good idea of what he meant. Just like that, here it was. It’s hard to describe how I felt in that moment. Part of me was scared and nervous for sure, but there was part of me that was excited and a small part that felt almost relieved. I didn’t understand that last feeling at all, at least not right then. I was still staring at my phone like a dummy, but I had to respond, so I gave him the answer I pretty much always gave him.

ME: ok

LINCOLN: Good girl.

Now what? Like what the fuck? I was lost here and needed guidance, and after a minute I realized I should text Joselyn. Go with who knows, right? I kind of outlined the situation and forwarded her the last text and asked her to call me NOW. She got back to me pretty quickly.

“So I’m guessing you’re feeling a little bit conflicted?” She seemed amused.

That was an understatement, to say the least, but I just told her yes.

“I mean we kind of talked about this before but you seemed reluctant to go into it. I think because you didn’t really need to ask. You get it. It’s just happening sooner than you were expecting?”

“Yeah, I guess? What do I do?” I had like four hours until I was meant to go over there. This was not abstract anymore.

I heard her laugh. “Lincoln wants to push you, see how far you’re willing to go for him like we talked about. He’s sending you to James first, to see how you’ll react. What you’ve got to do is decide if that’s a path you want to go down. And you need to follow your heart on this, not your vag.”

“Ok so…”

That musical laugh again. “Look, if you’re truly torn and want my advice, it’s this: just go for it. You’re leaving in August for school. Have some fun. If you want, you can go and find a sweet college boy then. Or keep being a slut. You can do anything you want, so if you feel like you’re ok with this, all I can say is that it’s amazing sex. I highly recommend it.” I heard her laugh again.

“And what if I don’t do it? Like, what if I just don’t feel like I can?”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah, honestly,” I said after a couple of seconds.

“I mean it’s not like Lincoln would stop seeing you at all I don’t think. I mean you’re pretty and he clearly enjoys you. I do think he’d probably start to lose interest though. I feel like part of the thrill for guys like him is in seeing how far you’ll go like I said. He wants to see how much you’ll give him. He calls you his bitch and he wants you to act like it. It sounds bad when I say it like that, but I think you know what I mean?”

I thought you about it for a long moment, and told her, “Yes, I think I do.”

“Yeah, so it’s kind of expected. If you’re enjoying it—and I know you are because I could hear you over there too the other night.” I could practically hear her smirking through my phone. “You were begging him for it.”

I started to say something, but she kind of cut me off.

“Hey, it’s cool! It’s not weird or anything. It feels good to just totally let go and let someone else be in complete control. It’s freeing. Have your fun!”

“Ok thanks…I guess I have to think about it?”

“Oh my god Sophia. No. You don’t. Text me when you get there.”

When I did get there just after seven (because of course I went), I sat in the car thinking for a minute. Even given everything that happened, everything that had evolved about me sexually, this felt like a big step. It was one thing to have a kinky relationship with one guy, but now he was basically telling me who else to fuck. Like, well—like I was his bitch. Which let’s be honest, I was. I was not sure how to feel about that. Part of me had this absurdly hurt feeling that Lincoln didn’t want me all to himself. Which was stupid. For one, he was apparently regularly fucking Joselyn too, which fair, I couldn’t blame him there. And we both knew this wasn’t romance, it was about sex. So what was I afraid of right now? Like I’d really be a slut if I did this, but all the other slutty and degrading ******* I practically begged for didn’t count? That was clearly made no sense.

James was hot, so it wasn’t that I didn’t want to from that perspective either. So if I’m a slut, I thought, so what? A little late to be worrying about that now. Plus that’s my choice and not anyone else’s concern. Sticking to what was becoming a running theme in my life, I told myself fuck it and got out of the car. I sent Joselyn a text saying I was there and going in and she sent wink and heart emojis back, with “Text me after!” As I was walking up, I felt that weird, distant feeling of relief again. Looking back, I think it was because I had known this was coming and was glad to be facing it instead of wondering about it.

When I knocked on the door, I heard James yell to come in. He was standing in the kitchen and it looked like he was busy chopping some green onions of all things. Making dinner or lunch for tomorrow I guessed. He told me, “One second,” and went to the sink to wash his hands. Then he walked into the living room without saying anything else. I followed him after a second or two. He was standing near the couch and I was about ten feet away from him, just kind of standing there like an idiot, with no idea what to do. Finally I kind of stupidly blurted, “Lincoln said I could come by?”

James didn’t say anything for a long few moments, just kind of looked me up and down. I felt even dumber. Finally, he curtly snapped, “Come here.”

I walked over to him, stopping at a normal conversational distance. I was dressed super casual, hair in a ponytail, wearing cut-offs and a spaghetti strap t-shirt. He kind of stared at me, waited a beat or two, then, without saying a word, grabbed me by the waist of my cutoffs and roughly pulled me to him. I felt him put something in my pocket, and I assumed it was what I had asked Lincoln for.

“That’s the first thing you need,” he told me. He let go of my cut-offs, and I just stood there looking up at him. “I know you know what’s up. The door’s right there and you’re free to walk out. No worries. But do it now if you’re gonna.”

I was almost pressed up against him I was so close. I’d like to say all kinds of healthy self-reflection was going through my brain in those few moments, but it was nothing like that at all. Quite the opposite. I was basically standing there empty-headed. After what seemed like a lot longer than it probably was, James grabbed me roughly by the throat and pulled me to him, giving me a long kiss that I can only describe as lewd. There was nothing tender about it at all. He broke the kiss and let go of my throat, which caused me to actually stumble a little. I could hear him kind of laugh under his breath. Then, one word: “Strip.”

If I were going to walk away in an effort to preserve my dignity or rethink my life or whatever, that would have been the moment. I didn’t. It was like a switch had been flipped and the analytical part of my brain got turned off. I stepped out of my sandals and pulled my shirt over my head and off, then slid my cutoffs down and stepped out of them. I was standing there in matching boyshorts and bra, and he was still just looking at me. Right. I took them both off, bra first, and now stood there nude in front of James, who was still fully clothed. In the back of my mind I thought that this nude/clothed situation was kind of becoming a thing with me, but that didn’t make me any less turned on by it. I was still only about a foot and a half away from him.

Four words this time: “On your knees bitch.”

I obeyed instantly and heard a little snicker from him. He undid his pants, pulling them down a little, and I got my first close up look at his cock. He was hard already, and about as think as Lincoln, but longer. He had really nice balls too, big and smooth. He still wasn’t saying anything, so I figured he was assuming I knew what I was supposed to be doing. I reached up and wrapped my hand around the base of his cock. He was darker complected than Lincoln, and the contrast with my skin was even starker. It looked really erotic to me.

I started by kind of kissing the head of his cock, trying to make good eye contact with him. He seemed to like that, so I took him into my mouth, slowly and gently at first, trying to get everything as wet as I could. I wanted to make this feel really good for him, in part because I didn’t think I wanted him to start aggressively fucking my face like I’d seen him do to Joselyn, but mostly because I was already in that submissive headspace where all I wanted to do was please. He seemed to be enjoying himself because although he had grabbed me by the ponytail, he was just letting me do my thing. I was able to get him further down my throat, still going slow but trying to be kind of dirty about it too, because I felt like that was what he wanted. I could still keep my hand wrapped around the base his cock while taking him as far down my throat as I could without gagging. He was big.

He let me keep going for a while then pulled me off of him by my ponytail. He kind of jerked my head upward so I was looking up at him and slapped my face, snapping, “Get on those balls slut.”

It wasn’t a hard slap, but pretty firm, and I’d never had that done to me before. I’m sure all sorts of thoughts should have been going through my head right then, but my brain seemed barely functional at that moment. Also, I kind of knew it was coming. What I did feel was this little thrill go through me, from my stomach like a little lightning bolt through my pussy. I instantly obeyed him, actually moaning a little I was so turned on. I could hear him laughing while I was licking and sucking his balls. I’d gone from nervous to mind-numbingly horny and desperate to please him in a matter of minutes. It was kind of pathetic, to be honest.

“Back on it,” he ordered, slapping me again. I felt that little lightning bolt again, then just smiled at him and obeyed. He liked that: “Yeah bitch, smile and keep sucking.” He let me do that for a few minutes, then came another one-word order: “Up,”

He was pulling me to my feet by my hair, and simultaneously guiding me over to the sofa. He smacked my ass like I was a sheep he was herding or something, then ****** me to my knees on the sofa, bracing me against the arm on the end in basically the same position he’d had Joselyn in the other night. He slapped my ass again, hard, and I felt his fingers inside me, probing to see how wet I was, which was extremely. I hazily thought that this was about to be the second person who’d fucked me on this sofa. I moaned softly again. As rough as he was being it felt so fucking good.

“You dumb slut, you fucking love this.” His fingers were gone, and now I could feel him kind of slapping his cock against my ass. I couldn’t help but imagine what that must look like, and it made me hornier if that was even possible. Then he slid his cock into me with one slow, smooth motion. It must not have been hard for him to do, probably because I was practically dripping wet, but it hurt a little, and I think I kind of cried out. He grabbed my ponytail, pulling my head back, and smacked me really hard on the ass again.

“Shut up and take this dick.” He was fucking me really deep, not particularly hard or fast, but holy ******* it felt so good. That brief little bit of pain was gone, and he was just super deep in me—I could feel his balls hit my ass with each thrust. He was also directing a steady stream of verbal abuse at me, accented by repeatedly spanking me, but I didn’t even register most of that because I was just cumming practically the whole time. My whole body felt like it was impaled on James’ cock, and I was kind of shuddering all over a little as he steadily fucked me.

“Fuck, that pussy tight,” James kind of grunted. He must have been about to cum and didn’t want to, because he really slowed down then, eventually just kind of stopping entirely but still balls deep in my now slightly sore and pretty thoroughly abused vagina. I swear it felt like the end of his cock was somewhere in my stomach. I couldn’t move really because he still had me by the ponytail and I was pushed down into the sofa arm by his weight on me. After a few moments of this, I could feel him slowly pull out of pussy.

“Don’t move,” James ordered me. I kind of sensed him get up, and then he walked in front of me. Thinking I knew what he wanted, I put one hand around his cock, which was still super wet, and went to take him in my mouth. That earned me another slap in the face, harder than before.

“Balls bitch,” he snapped. I made a little involuntary noise when he hit me, then meekly obeyed, licking them as best I could from the awkward position I was in. He didn’t make me do this for very long before pulling me up by my ponytail again. I kind of panted for a second, catching my breath, then he ****** me back down onto his cock, making me take him as deep as possible. I did the best I could, but he was really forsing his cock down my throat and I started gagging pretty quickly.

“Dumb slut,” he kind of muttered, pulling me up again and letting me catch my breath. His cock was drenched in my saliva, so much that I could actually see a little dripping off it. I took him back in my mouth again, trying to go slower, do better, but he was rough and impatient, kind of fucking my face now like he’d done to Joselyn, but not as roughly. I was gagging again pretty quickly anyway though, and he pulled me off again.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” he asked, rhetorically I assumed, as the question was accompanied by another hard slap to my face. “Lick it you dumb slut, try that,” he ordered, and I did my best to comply, submissively kissing and licking his cock, even more desperate to please him at this point. Part of me thought I was failing to meet expectations, I guess. If I’d had any thoughts of dignity earlier, they were for sure gone now. I tried to take him in my mouth again after a couple of minutes of that, and even as aggro as he was, that seemed to amuse him. He let me suck him for a while, then finally let go of my ponytail and stepped away, leaving me kind of collapsed over the arm of the sofa.

I sensed rather than saw him move around behind me again, and could feel his cock sliding back and forth lewdly at the entrance to my still drenched pussy. With another hard slap to my ass, he was back inside me, fucking me deep and slow like before. Pretty quickly though, he began to pick up the pace, slamming into me pretty hard, forsing me into the arm of the couch again each time. He had grabbed my ponytail again, and between that and the way I was braced against the sofa by his weight, he basically had total control of my whole body. I could only move where he let me. The steady stream of verbal abuse never let up, same as when he was fucking Joselyn like this the other night, and he was still spanking me hard pretty regularly. I was sure my ass was red as fuck by now, and I was constantly moaning in a mixture of pleasure and a little bit of pain at this point. The verbal degradation was making the sex even more intense and hot for me, but I felt like James was finding the whole situation amusing.

“Actin’ like I’m about to break your frail ass,” he kind of scoffed, with what sounded like a mixture of amusement and derision. He didn’t let up on how hard he was fucking me. “Not yet bitch,” he added, punctuating that with yet another hard smack to my ass. He finally kind of slowed down a little and started just going as deep as he could each thrust, which felt amazing, with just a little undercurrent of pain to it.

He definitely liked to talk even more than Lincoln, and he was still saying all kinds of degrading things to me as he fucked me, telling me how dumb and slutty I was, and how he was going to use me any time he wanted. Then I felt something else wet right on my asshole and realized he’d just spat on me there. I felt his finger kind of probing, almost teasing me. I was too far gone to really care at that point, and it felt kind of good anyway. He kept fucking me slow and deep, and after a few minutes, I felt his finger enter my ass. It felt weird, but not bad in any way. What was left of the rational part of my brain thought that I better come up with a plan soon because I probably wasn’t going to be spared from having a cock up there for too much longer after tonight. That whole situation didn’t last long though, because a few moments later, he pulled his cock out of me and dragging me off the sofa by my hair.

“Get on your knees,” he kind of panted, and I did what he said, knowing what he wanted. I went to take him in my mouth, but he still had me by my ponytail and ****** his cock down my throat. I wasn’t prepared at all, and when he came I tried to swallow, but he was too deep down my throat. I gagged and wasn’t able to get anything down, instead winding up with cum all over my chest and dripping from my mouth and chin. Some of it dripped on the floor. James pulled my head up by my ponytail and slapped me again, hard.

“Lick that ******* up!” He ****** my face down onto the hardwood floor, and I did what he’d ordered. It was so degrading, but it gave me this super sexy feeling to be ****** like that. I really can’t explain it. I should have been humiliated and revolted, but I never for a second felt like that. In fact, it was like a part of me at that moment had internalized all the abuse I’d been taking, because I had this thought like, you shouldn’t have made a mess you dumb slut—do better. It took me a few seconds to lick everything up, and James kept my head pushed into the floor until I did. He finally let me go and collapsed back onto the sofa, leaving me kind of crouched there, my chest still covered in cum.

“Clean up. Get dressed. Lincoln’ll tell you when to have your ass back here,” James told me, his voice actually kind of mellow now. I think I just kind of meekly acknowledged that then went into the bathroom and tried to clean myself up as best I could. James was still lying back on the sofa with his eyes closed when I came out, and for the second time that night, I was standing nude in front of him while he was basically still fully clothed. This time he didn’t even look up. Expectations were obvious. I quickly got dressed and walked out the door.

When I got to my car, I sat and just caught my breath for a minute, trying to collect myself. It hurt to sit—he hard really roughed me up and my ass had taken most of the abuse. That and my vagina, which was also pretty sore. I used the rearview mirror to look at my face. My cheeks were a little red from being slapped around. I also realized I’d gotten cum in my hair, which is the absolute worst. I was a mess. After trying to touch up my face at least a little, I sent Joselyn a text:

ME: so basically he fucked my brains out and then told me to leave. i have cum in my fucking hair. In my car.

A minute maybe passed, then:

JOSELYN: lol congrats you’re a thot!

I thought to myself that it was a good thing she was basically a ten with a marketable skill set because her jokes weren’t going to get her anywhere in life. But, once again, she wasn’t wrong. This situation had gone totally off the rails, and I didn’t even care. I realized in fact, that despite how thoroughly I’d just been used and how sore I was basically everywhere, I was still really horny. What was wrong with me? Maybe James was right. Maybe on some level, I really did just want to be a dumb slut? What was I supposed to do with that revelation?

TO BE CONTINUED
That was awesome.
 
Chapter 4: The Way It Goes


“That’s just the way it goes,” Joselyn told me with a laugh. We were sitting at a patio table at a coffee shop near the spa where she worked. After that crazy night at Lincoln’s, she had taken me home the next morning. We had both been awake before the guys, and it turned out they’d taken her car from wherever they’d been earlier the previous night. I remember noticing a thong on the floorboard and thinking it was very unlikely she’d been the one driving. Probably otherwise occupied.

That morning, she had been like, “Come on, Lincoln will appreciate not having to get up to drive you.” I was amazed she could even walk after what they’d done to her the night before, but I felt like she was right and agreed. She promised to text me in the upcoming week to get together, and now here we were. It was around three because she’d scheduled her lunch late so we could meet after I was done with school.

“I guess it’s just a lot to process,” I was telling her. “Is it ok if I ask how everything started?”

“Sure—it’s no great story really though. James and Delvin work together, you knew that? (I did.) Right, so there’s a bunch of offices like that around here including theirs, and the employees hang out after work a lot. Mostly at the nicer bars, you know? Finance types, lawyers, whatever. James basically picked me up one night. Nothing super romantic.” She laughed. “It wasn’t my first time—I like what I like, and he picked up on what that was right away. I went home with him. It wasn’t long before he was sharing me with Lincoln and Delvin, and like two other friends of his. You’re not upset about that right? About Lincoln?

“Oh god no,” I told her, and I meant it. “He’s hot, and you’re, like, really hot, so of course. And he told me that night, kind of taunted me with it. While I was watching you guys.”

She laughed. “Typical. You know they probably wanted you to see that right? I bet they planned that *******.”

“Really?” I thought about that for a second. That was…something I would have to unpack eventually. Right then I had other questions though. “So I guess what I also was really wondering about was, umm…like how,” I was stammering like an idiot because I didn’t know how to broach this.

“Oh my god you can say it,” she laughed. “You want to know about them slapping me around? The really rough *******? What that situation is all about?”

“Yes,” I said, relieved she seemed so open to talking about it. “I mean I could tell you were into it, but it was just, like, intense, and sudden?”

“I guess you maybe didn’t expect it,” she observed, laughing again. “Look, like I said, this isn’t the first time I’ve been in this type of relationship. The first time was actually, well, right where you are right now. Senior year.”

“Actually?”

“Yeah. Pretty similar. I met this really hot black guy a few years older than me. Not like James or Lincoln or Delvin though. Let’s just say quite a bit rougher around the edges?” She grinned. “Anyway, it wasn’t like I was exactly pure and innocent before that point, as I’m sure you heard.” She did have a bit of a rep when we were in school together, but I felt like it’d be rude to confirm it. She went on anyway, “Pretty soon it was, well, pretty similar to the situation I’m in now, just the apartment wasn’t as nice.”

“And that’s just kind of your thing now?” I had to admit I was super intrigued.

“That’s my thing. One of them,” She confirmed. “Let me ask you this though—how did you feel when you were watching us? It’s definitely not like you ran away in horror or something.”

“I…well if I am going to be honest watching you guys made the sex with Lincoln even hotter.” I thought about what that might mean for a second. To kind of like seeing that was one thing. To be expected to participate in it was a lot different though. “Is that what Lincoln’s expecting me to do eventually?”

Jocelyn seemed to think about that for a few beats. “Look, it’s like this. It’s kind of an expectation, yeah. That’s fair to say I guess.” She paused again. “I have a pretty good idea how you guys’ relationship probably goes. He’s super dominant, probably has you doing all kinds of things and expects you to do them just because he tells to you right?”

It sounded bad when she put it like that, but she wasn’t wrong. “Yeah basically.”

“Don’t give me that face.” She smiled at me again. “There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s hot as fuck and you like it. I know you do, especially with how much time he spends with you. I’m a little jealous to be honest,” she stated with another laugh.

I was nonplussed by that. I couldn’t imagine her ever feeling jealous of me for any reason. She didn’t seem to be expecting a reaction though, because she just kind of plowed on.

“Anyway, I think it’s like this: guys like Lincoln, situations like this, I feel like it’s kind of inevitable. He’s got this pretty white girl wrapped around his finger, and it’s not a romance thing. He knows you both know that. He’s going to want to share you with his friends, and they expect him to do that. It’s a power thing I feel like. Bragging almost. That’s just how it goes.”

“Like he owns me.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“Yes like he owns you. And stop trying to pretend you don’t love that *******. You’re not fooling me. And you’re for sure not fooling him. Embrace it!”

I suddenly found my coffee cup very interesting to stare at. She was absolutely right. So what did that mean?

So I’ve probably given you the impression so far that my relationship with Lincoln was only about sex and…ok, that’s basically accurate. I mean we talked and had some common interests, but like I’ve said before, he certainly wasn’t my boyfriend, and I wasn’t sure friends was an accurate description either. As I’ve already pretty thoroughly put out there, it was anything but a co-equal relationship. But friends do friends favors, and I knew that if I were in trouble or something he’d probably help me if I asked, regardless of what we actually were. It’s not like it needed to be defined. So why dwell on it?

One thing I liked to do a lot then was get high. I was channeling my inner Lana Del Rey pretty hard that year. Lincoln would occasionally get me weed, which I feel like was fair, since I basically gave him on demand blow jobs, among other things. Abbey and I were planning to go to Venice Beach on Saturday, and we wanted to smoke a little while we were there, so I texted Lincoln around midweek to see if he could help me out. What I didn’t know at that moment was that there would be some strings attached this time. I knew he was at work and was happy when he texted me back about an hour later.

LINCOLN: Ya give me a min will see what I can do.

ME: thanks!

I figured it’d be quite a while before I heard back from him, and was surprised when I got another text back maybe twenty minutes later.

LINCOLN: On the road but James can hook you up pass by at 7.

ME: ok thanks! he knows i’m coming?

LINCOLN: Yes. Do what he says.

ME: ok?

LINCOLN: I mean it you do whatever he tells you.

I wasn’t sure how to respond to this, but I had a pretty good idea of what he meant. Just like that, here it was. It’s hard to describe how I felt in that moment. Part of me was scared and nervous for sure, but there was part of me that was excited and a small part that felt almost relieved. I didn’t understand that last feeling at all, at least not right then. I was still staring at my phone like a dummy, but I had to respond, so I gave him the answer I pretty much always gave him.

ME: ok

LINCOLN: Good girl.

Now what? Like what the fuck? I was lost here and needed guidance, and after a minute I realized I should text Joselyn. Go with who knows, right? I kind of outlined the situation and forwarded her the last text and asked her to call me NOW. She got back to me pretty quickly.

“So I’m guessing you’re feeling a little bit conflicted?” She seemed amused.

That was an understatement, to say the least, but I just told her yes.

“I mean we kind of talked about this before but you seemed reluctant to go into it. I think because you didn’t really need to ask. You get it. It’s just happening sooner than you were expecting?”

“Yeah, I guess? What do I do?” I had like four hours until I was meant to go over there. This was not abstract anymore.

I heard her laugh. “Lincoln wants to push you, see how far you’re willing to go for him like we talked about. He’s sending you to James first, to see how you’ll react. What you’ve got to do is decide if that’s a path you want to go down. And you need to follow your heart on this, not your vag.”

“Ok so…”

That musical laugh again. “Look, if you’re truly torn and want my advice, it’s this: just go for it. You’re leaving in August for school. Have some fun. If you want, you can go and find a sweet college boy then. Or keep being a slut. You can do anything you want, so if you feel like you’re ok with this, all I can say is that it’s amazing sex. I highly recommend it.” I heard her laugh again.

“And what if I don’t do it? Like, what if I just don’t feel like I can?”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah, honestly,” I said after a couple of seconds.

“I mean it’s not like Lincoln would stop seeing you at all I don’t think. I mean you’re pretty and he clearly enjoys you. I do think he’d probably start to lose interest though. I feel like part of the thrill for guys like him is in seeing how far you’ll go like I said. He wants to see how much you’ll give him. He calls you his bitch and he wants you to act like it. It sounds bad when I say it like that, but I think you know what I mean?”

I thought you about it for a long moment, and told her, “Yes, I think I do.”

“Yeah, so it’s kind of expected. If you’re enjoying it—and I know you are because I could hear you over there too the other night.” I could practically hear her smirking through my phone. “You were begging him for it.”

I started to say something, but she kind of cut me off.

“Hey, it’s cool! It’s not weird or anything. It feels good to just totally let go and let someone else be in complete control. It’s freeing. Have your fun!”

“Ok thanks…I guess I have to think about it?”

“Oh my god Sophia. No. You don’t. Text me when you get there.”

When I did get there just after seven (because of course I went), I sat in the car thinking for a minute. Even given everything that happened, everything that had evolved about me sexually, this felt like a big step. It was one thing to have a kinky relationship with one guy, but now he was basically telling me who else to fuck. Like, well—like I was his bitch. Which let’s be honest, I was. I was not sure how to feel about that. Part of me had this absurdly hurt feeling that Lincoln didn’t want me all to himself. Which was stupid. For one, he was apparently regularly fucking Joselyn too, which fair, I couldn’t blame him there. And we both knew this wasn’t romance, it was about sex. So what was I afraid of right now? Like I’d really be a slut if I did this, but all the other slutty and degrading ******* I practically begged for didn’t count? That was clearly made no sense.

James was hot, so it wasn’t that I didn’t want to from that perspective either. So if I’m a slut, I thought, so what? A little late to be worrying about that now. Plus that’s my choice and not anyone else’s concern. Sticking to what was becoming a running theme in my life, I told myself fuck it and got out of the car. I sent Joselyn a text saying I was there and going in and she sent wink and heart emojis back, with “Text me after!” As I was walking up, I felt that weird, distant feeling of relief again. Looking back, I think it was because I had known this was coming and was glad to be facing it instead of wondering about it.

When I knocked on the door, I heard James yell to come in. He was standing in the kitchen and it looked like he was busy chopping some green onions of all things. Making dinner or lunch for tomorrow I guessed. He told me, “One second,” and went to the sink to wash his hands. Then he walked into the living room without saying anything else. I followed him after a second or two. He was standing near the couch and I was about ten feet away from him, just kind of standing there like an idiot, with no idea what to do. Finally I kind of stupidly blurted, “Lincoln said I could come by?”

James didn’t say anything for a long few moments, just kind of looked me up and down. I felt even dumber. Finally, he curtly snapped, “Come here.”

I walked over to him, stopping at a normal conversational distance. I was dressed super casual, hair in a ponytail, wearing cut-offs and a spaghetti strap t-shirt. He kind of stared at me, waited a beat or two, then, without saying a word, grabbed me by the waist of my cutoffs and roughly pulled me to him. I felt him put something in my pocket, and I assumed it was what I had asked Lincoln for.

“That’s the first thing you need,” he told me. He let go of my cut-offs, and I just stood there looking up at him. “I know you know what’s up. The door’s right there and you’re free to walk out. No worries. But do it now if you’re gonna.”

I was almost pressed up against him I was so close. I’d like to say all kinds of healthy self-reflection was going through my brain in those few moments, but it was nothing like that at all. Quite the opposite. I was basically standing there empty-headed. After what seemed like a lot longer than it probably was, James grabbed me roughly by the throat and pulled me to him, giving me a long kiss that I can only describe as lewd. There was nothing tender about it at all. He broke the kiss and let go of my throat, which caused me to actually stumble a little. I could hear him kind of laugh under his breath. Then, one word: “Strip.”

If I were going to walk away in an effort to preserve my dignity or rethink my life or whatever, that would have been the moment. I didn’t. It was like a switch had been flipped and the analytical part of my brain got turned off. I stepped out of my sandals and pulled my shirt over my head and off, then slid my cutoffs down and stepped out of them. I was standing there in matching boyshorts and bra, and he was still just looking at me. Right. I took them both off, bra first, and now stood there nude in front of James, who was still fully clothed. In the back of my mind I thought that this nude/clothed situation was kind of becoming a thing with me, but that didn’t make me any less turned on by it. I was still only about a foot and a half away from him.

Four words this time: “On your knees bitch.”

I obeyed instantly and heard a little snicker from him. He undid his pants, pulling them down a little, and I got my first close up look at his cock. He was hard already, and about as think as Lincoln, but longer. He had really nice balls too, big and smooth. He still wasn’t saying anything, so I figured he was assuming I knew what I was supposed to be doing. I reached up and wrapped my hand around the base of his cock. He was darker complected than Lincoln, and the contrast with my skin was even starker. It looked really erotic to me.

I started by kind of kissing the head of his cock, trying to make good eye contact with him. He seemed to like that, so I took him into my mouth, slowly and gently at first, trying to get everything as wet as I could. I wanted to make this feel really good for him, in part because I didn’t think I wanted him to start aggressively fucking my face like I’d seen him do to Joselyn, but mostly because I was already in that submissive headspace where all I wanted to do was please. He seemed to be enjoying himself because although he had grabbed me by the ponytail, he was just letting me do my thing. I was able to get him further down my throat, still going slow but trying to be kind of dirty about it too, because I felt like that was what he wanted. I could still keep my hand wrapped around the base his cock while taking him as far down my throat as I could without gagging. He was big.

He let me keep going for a while then pulled me off of him by my ponytail. He kind of jerked my head upward so I was looking up at him and slapped my face, snapping, “Get on those balls slut.”

It wasn’t a hard slap, but pretty firm, and I’d never had that done to me before. I’m sure all sorts of thoughts should have been going through my head right then, but my brain seemed barely functional at that moment. Also, I kind of knew it was coming. What I did feel was this little thrill go through me, from my stomach like a little lightning bolt through my pussy. I instantly obeyed him, actually moaning a little I was so turned on. I could hear him laughing while I was licking and sucking his balls. I’d gone from nervous to mind-numbingly horny and desperate to please him in a matter of minutes. It was kind of pathetic, to be honest.

“Back on it,” he ordered, slapping me again. I felt that little lightning bolt again, then just smiled at him and obeyed. He liked that: “Yeah bitch, smile and keep sucking.” He let me do that for a few minutes, then came another one-word order: “Up,”

He was pulling me to my feet by my hair, and simultaneously guiding me over to the sofa. He smacked my ass like I was a sheep he was herding or something, then ****** me to my knees on the sofa, bracing me against the arm on the end in basically the same position he’d had Joselyn in the other night. He slapped my ass again, hard, and I felt his fingers inside me, probing to see how wet I was, which was extremely. I hazily thought that this was about to be the second person who’d fucked me on this sofa. I moaned softly again. As rough as he was being it felt so fucking good.

“You dumb slut, you fucking love this.” His fingers were gone, and now I could feel him kind of slapping his cock against my ass. I couldn’t help but imagine what that must look like, and it made me hornier if that was even possible. Then he slid his cock into me with one slow, smooth motion. It must not have been hard for him to do, probably because I was practically dripping wet, but it hurt a little, and I think I kind of cried out. He grabbed my ponytail, pulling my head back, and smacked me really hard on the ass again.

“Shut up and take this dick.” He was fucking me really deep, not particularly hard or fast, but holy ******* it felt so good. That brief little bit of pain was gone, and he was just super deep in me—I could feel his balls hit my ass with each thrust. He was also directing a steady stream of verbal abuse at me, accented by repeatedly spanking me, but I didn’t even register most of that because I was just cumming practically the whole time. My whole body felt like it was impaled on James’ cock, and I was kind of shuddering all over a little as he steadily fucked me.

“Fuck, that pussy tight,” James kind of grunted. He must have been about to cum and didn’t want to, because he really slowed down then, eventually just kind of stopping entirely but still balls deep in my now slightly sore and pretty thoroughly abused vagina. I swear it felt like the end of his cock was somewhere in my stomach. I couldn’t move really because he still had me by the ponytail and I was pushed down into the sofa arm by his weight on me. After a few moments of this, I could feel him slowly pull out of pussy.

“Don’t move,” James ordered me. I kind of sensed him get up, and then he walked in front of me. Thinking I knew what he wanted, I put one hand around his cock, which was still super wet, and went to take him in my mouth. That earned me another slap in the face, harder than before.

“Balls bitch,” he snapped. I made a little involuntary noise when he hit me, then meekly obeyed, licking them as best I could from the awkward position I was in. He didn’t make me do this for very long before pulling me up by my ponytail again. I kind of panted for a second, catching my breath, then he ****** me back down onto his cock, making me take him as deep as possible. I did the best I could, but he was really forsing his cock down my throat and I started gagging pretty quickly.

“Dumb slut,” he kind of muttered, pulling me up again and letting me catch my breath. His cock was drenched in my saliva, so much that I could actually see a little dripping off it. I took him back in my mouth again, trying to go slower, do better, but he was rough and impatient, kind of fucking my face now like he’d done to Joselyn, but not as roughly. I was gagging again pretty quickly anyway though, and he pulled me off again.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” he asked, rhetorically I assumed, as the question was accompanied by another hard slap to my face. “Lick it you dumb slut, try that,” he ordered, and I did my best to comply, submissively kissing and licking his cock, even more desperate to please him at this point. Part of me thought I was failing to meet expectations, I guess. If I’d had any thoughts of dignity earlier, they were for sure gone now. I tried to take him in my mouth again after a couple of minutes of that, and even as aggro as he was, that seemed to amuse him. He let me suck him for a while, then finally let go of my ponytail and stepped away, leaving me kind of collapsed over the arm of the sofa.

I sensed rather than saw him move around behind me again, and could feel his cock sliding back and forth lewdly at the entrance to my still drenched pussy. With another hard slap to my ass, he was back inside me, fucking me deep and slow like before. Pretty quickly though, he began to pick up the pace, slamming into me pretty hard, forsing me into the arm of the couch again each time. He had grabbed my ponytail again, and between that and the way I was braced against the sofa by his weight, he basically had total control of my whole body. I could only move where he let me. The steady stream of verbal abuse never let up, same as when he was fucking Joselyn like this the other night, and he was still spanking me hard pretty regularly. I was sure my ass was red as fuck by now, and I was constantly moaning in a mixture of pleasure and a little bit of pain at this point. The verbal degradation was making the sex even more intense and hot for me, but I felt like James was finding the whole situation amusing.

“Actin’ like I’m about to break your frail ass,” he kind of scoffed, with what sounded like a mixture of amusement and derision. He didn’t let up on how hard he was fucking me. “Not yet bitch,” he added, punctuating that with yet another hard smack to my ass. He finally kind of slowed down a little and started just going as deep as he could each thrust, which felt amazing, with just a little undercurrent of pain to it.

He definitely liked to talk even more than Lincoln, and he was still saying all kinds of degrading things to me as he fucked me, telling me how dumb and slutty I was, and how he was going to use me any time he wanted. Then I felt something else wet right on my asshole and realized he’d just spat on me there. I felt his finger kind of probing, almost teasing me. I was too far gone to really care at that point, and it felt kind of good anyway. He kept fucking me slow and deep, and after a few minutes, I felt his finger enter my ass. It felt weird, but not bad in any way. What was left of the rational part of my brain thought that I better come up with a plan soon because I probably wasn’t going to be spared from having a cock up there for too much longer after tonight. That whole situation didn’t last long though, because a few moments later, he pulled his cock out of me and dragging me off the sofa by my hair.

“Get on your knees,” he kind of panted, and I did what he said, knowing what he wanted. I went to take him in my mouth, but he still had me by my ponytail and ****** his cock down my throat. I wasn’t prepared at all, and when he came I tried to swallow, but he was too deep down my throat. I gagged and wasn’t able to get anything down, instead winding up with cum all over my chest and dripping from my mouth and chin. Some of it dripped on the floor. James pulled my head up by my ponytail and slapped me again, hard.

“Lick that ******* up!” He ****** my face down onto the hardwood floor, and I did what he’d ordered. It was so degrading, but it gave me this super sexy feeling to be ****** like that. I really can’t explain it. I should have been humiliated and revolted, but I never for a second felt like that. In fact, it was like a part of me at that moment had internalized all the abuse I’d been taking, because I had this thought like, you shouldn’t have made a mess you dumb slut—do better. It took me a few seconds to lick everything up, and James kept my head pushed into the floor until I did. He finally let me go and collapsed back onto the sofa, leaving me kind of crouched there, my chest still covered in cum.

“Clean up. Get dressed. Lincoln’ll tell you when to have your ass back here,” James told me, his voice actually kind of mellow now. I think I just kind of meekly acknowledged that then went into the bathroom and tried to clean myself up as best I could. James was still lying back on the sofa with his eyes closed when I came out, and for the second time that night, I was standing nude in front of him while he was basically still fully clothed. This time he didn’t even look up. Expectations were obvious. I quickly got dressed and walked out the door.

When I got to my car, I sat and just caught my breath for a minute, trying to collect myself. It hurt to sit—he hard really roughed me up and my ass had taken most of the abuse. That and my vagina, which was also pretty sore. I used the rearview mirror to look at my face. My cheeks were a little red from being slapped around. I also realized I’d gotten cum in my hair, which is the absolute worst. I was a mess. After trying to touch up my face at least a little, I sent Joselyn a text:

ME: so basically he fucked my brains out and then told me to leave. i have cum in my fucking hair. In my car.

A minute maybe passed, then:

JOSELYN: lol congrats you’re a thot!

I thought to myself that it was a good thing she was basically a ten with a marketable skill set because her jokes weren’t going to get her anywhere in life. But, once again, she wasn’t wrong. This situation had gone totally off the rails, and I didn’t even care. I realized in fact, that despite how thoroughly I’d just been used and how sore I was basically everywhere, I was still really horny. What was wrong with me? Maybe James was right. Maybe on some level, I really did just want to be a dumb slut? What was I supposed to do with that revelation?

TO BE CONTINUED
Wonderful!!
 
Chapter 4: The Way It Goes


“That’s just the way it goes,” Joselyn told me with a laugh. We were sitting at a patio table at a coffee shop near the spa where she worked. After that crazy night at Lincoln’s, she had taken me home the next morning. We had both been awake before the guys, and it turned out they’d taken her car from wherever they’d been earlier the previous night. I remember noticing a thong on the floorboard and thinking it was very unlikely she’d been the one driving. Probably otherwise occupied.

That morning, she had been like, “Come on, Lincoln will appreciate not having to get up to drive you.” I was amazed she could even walk after what they’d done to her the night before, but I felt like she was right and agreed. She promised to text me in the upcoming week to get together, and now here we were. It was around three because she’d scheduled her lunch late so we could meet after I was done with school.

“I guess it’s just a lot to process,” I was telling her. “Is it ok if I ask how everything started?”

“Sure—it’s no great story really though. James and Delvin work together, you knew that? (I did.) Right, so there’s a bunch of offices like that around here including theirs, and the employees hang out after work a lot. Mostly at the nicer bars, you know? Finance types, lawyers, whatever. James basically picked me up one night. Nothing super romantic.” She laughed. “It wasn’t my first time—I like what I like, and he picked up on what that was right away. I went home with him. It wasn’t long before he was sharing me with Lincoln and Delvin, and like two other friends of his. You’re not upset about that right? About Lincoln?

“Oh god no,” I told her, and I meant it. “He’s hot, and you’re, like, really hot, so of course. And he told me that night, kind of taunted me with it. While I was watching you guys.”

She laughed. “Typical. You know they probably wanted you to see that right? I bet they planned that *******.”

“Really?” I thought about that for a second. That was…something I would have to unpack eventually. Right then I had other questions though. “So I guess what I also was really wondering about was, umm…like how,” I was stammering like an idiot because I didn’t know how to broach this.

“Oh my god you can say it,” she laughed. “You want to know about them slapping me around? The really rough *******? What that situation is all about?”

“Yes,” I said, relieved she seemed so open to talking about it. “I mean I could tell you were into it, but it was just, like, intense, and sudden?”

“I guess you maybe didn’t expect it,” she observed, laughing again. “Look, like I said, this isn’t the first time I’ve been in this type of relationship. The first time was actually, well, right where you are right now. Senior year.”

“Actually?”

“Yeah. Pretty similar. I met this really hot black guy a few years older than me. Not like James or Lincoln or Delvin though. Let’s just say quite a bit rougher around the edges?” She grinned. “Anyway, it wasn’t like I was exactly pure and innocent before that point, as I’m sure you heard.” She did have a bit of a rep when we were in school together, but I felt like it’d be rude to confirm it. She went on anyway, “Pretty soon it was, well, pretty similar to the situation I’m in now, just the apartment wasn’t as nice.”

“And that’s just kind of your thing now?” I had to admit I was super intrigued.

“That’s my thing. One of them,” She confirmed. “Let me ask you this though—how did you feel when you were watching us? It’s definitely not like you ran away in horror or something.”

“I…well if I am going to be honest watching you guys made the sex with Lincoln even hotter.” I thought about what that might mean for a second. To kind of like seeing that was one thing. To be expected to participate in it was a lot different though. “Is that what Lincoln’s expecting me to do eventually?”

Jocelyn seemed to think about that for a few beats. “Look, it’s like this. It’s kind of an expectation, yeah. That’s fair to say I guess.” She paused again. “I have a pretty good idea how you guys’ relationship probably goes. He’s super dominant, probably has you doing all kinds of things and expects you to do them just because he tells to you right?”

It sounded bad when she put it like that, but she wasn’t wrong. “Yeah basically.”

“Don’t give me that face.” She smiled at me again. “There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s hot as fuck and you like it. I know you do, especially with how much time he spends with you. I’m a little jealous to be honest,” she stated with another laugh.

I was nonplussed by that. I couldn’t imagine her ever feeling jealous of me for any reason. She didn’t seem to be expecting a reaction though, because she just kind of plowed on.

“Anyway, I think it’s like this: guys like Lincoln, situations like this, I feel like it’s kind of inevitable. He’s got this pretty white girl wrapped around his finger, and it’s not a romance thing. He knows you both know that. He’s going to want to share you with his friends, and they expect him to do that. It’s a power thing I feel like. Bragging almost. That’s just how it goes.”

“Like he owns me.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“Yes like he owns you. And stop trying to pretend you don’t love that *******. You’re not fooling me. And you’re for sure not fooling him. Embrace it!”

I suddenly found my coffee cup very interesting to stare at. She was absolutely right. So what did that mean?

So I’ve probably given you the impression so far that my relationship with Lincoln was only about sex and…ok, that’s basically accurate. I mean we talked and had some common interests, but like I’ve said before, he certainly wasn’t my boyfriend, and I wasn’t sure friends was an accurate description either. As I’ve already pretty thoroughly put out there, it was anything but a co-equal relationship. But friends do friends favors, and I knew that if I were in trouble or something he’d probably help me if I asked, regardless of what we actually were. It’s not like it needed to be defined. So why dwell on it?

One thing I liked to do a lot then was get high. I was channeling my inner Lana Del Rey pretty hard that year. Lincoln would occasionally get me weed, which I feel like was fair, since I basically gave him on demand blow jobs, among other things. Abbey and I were planning to go to Venice Beach on Saturday, and we wanted to smoke a little while we were there, so I texted Lincoln around midweek to see if he could help me out. What I didn’t know at that moment was that there would be some strings attached this time. I knew he was at work and was happy when he texted me back about an hour later.

LINCOLN: Ya give me a min will see what I can do.

ME: thanks!

I figured it’d be quite a while before I heard back from him, and was surprised when I got another text back maybe twenty minutes later.

LINCOLN: On the road but James can hook you up pass by at 7.

ME: ok thanks! he knows i’m coming?

LINCOLN: Yes. Do what he says.

ME: ok?

LINCOLN: I mean it you do whatever he tells you.

I wasn’t sure how to respond to this, but I had a pretty good idea of what he meant. Just like that, here it was. It’s hard to describe how I felt in that moment. Part of me was scared and nervous for sure, but there was part of me that was excited and a small part that felt almost relieved. I didn’t understand that last feeling at all, at least not right then. I was still staring at my phone like a dummy, but I had to respond, so I gave him the answer I pretty much always gave him.

ME: ok

LINCOLN: Good girl.

Now what? Like what the fuck? I was lost here and needed guidance, and after a minute I realized I should text Joselyn. Go with who knows, right? I kind of outlined the situation and forwarded her the last text and asked her to call me NOW. She got back to me pretty quickly.

“So I’m guessing you’re feeling a little bit conflicted?” She seemed amused.

That was an understatement, to say the least, but I just told her yes.

“I mean we kind of talked about this before but you seemed reluctant to go into it. I think because you didn’t really need to ask. You get it. It’s just happening sooner than you were expecting?”

“Yeah, I guess? What do I do?” I had like four hours until I was meant to go over there. This was not abstract anymore.

I heard her laugh. “Lincoln wants to push you, see how far you’re willing to go for him like we talked about. He’s sending you to James first, to see how you’ll react. What you’ve got to do is decide if that’s a path you want to go down. And you need to follow your heart on this, not your vag.”

“Ok so…”

That musical laugh again. “Look, if you’re truly torn and want my advice, it’s this: just go for it. You’re leaving in August for school. Have some fun. If you want, you can go and find a sweet college boy then. Or keep being a slut. You can do anything you want, so if you feel like you’re ok with this, all I can say is that it’s amazing sex. I highly recommend it.” I heard her laugh again.

“And what if I don’t do it? Like, what if I just don’t feel like I can?”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah, honestly,” I said after a couple of seconds.

“I mean it’s not like Lincoln would stop seeing you at all I don’t think. I mean you’re pretty and he clearly enjoys you. I do think he’d probably start to lose interest though. I feel like part of the thrill for guys like him is in seeing how far you’ll go like I said. He wants to see how much you’ll give him. He calls you his bitch and he wants you to act like it. It sounds bad when I say it like that, but I think you know what I mean?”

I thought you about it for a long moment, and told her, “Yes, I think I do.”

“Yeah, so it’s kind of expected. If you’re enjoying it—and I know you are because I could hear you over there too the other night.” I could practically hear her smirking through my phone. “You were begging him for it.”

I started to say something, but she kind of cut me off.

“Hey, it’s cool! It’s not weird or anything. It feels good to just totally let go and let someone else be in complete control. It’s freeing. Have your fun!”

“Ok thanks…I guess I have to think about it?”

“Oh my god Sophia. No. You don’t. Text me when you get there.”

When I did get there just after seven (because of course I went), I sat in the car thinking for a minute. Even given everything that happened, everything that had evolved about me sexually, this felt like a big step. It was one thing to have a kinky relationship with one guy, but now he was basically telling me who else to fuck. Like, well—like I was his bitch. Which let’s be honest, I was. I was not sure how to feel about that. Part of me had this absurdly hurt feeling that Lincoln didn’t want me all to himself. Which was stupid. For one, he was apparently regularly fucking Joselyn too, which fair, I couldn’t blame him there. And we both knew this wasn’t romance, it was about sex. So what was I afraid of right now? Like I’d really be a slut if I did this, but all the other slutty and degrading ******* I practically begged for didn’t count? That was clearly made no sense.

James was hot, so it wasn’t that I didn’t want to from that perspective either. So if I’m a slut, I thought, so what? A little late to be worrying about that now. Plus that’s my choice and not anyone else’s concern. Sticking to what was becoming a running theme in my life, I told myself fuck it and got out of the car. I sent Joselyn a text saying I was there and going in and she sent wink and heart emojis back, with “Text me after!” As I was walking up, I felt that weird, distant feeling of relief again. Looking back, I think it was because I had known this was coming and was glad to be facing it instead of wondering about it.

When I knocked on the door, I heard James yell to come in. He was standing in the kitchen and it looked like he was busy chopping some green onions of all things. Making dinner or lunch for tomorrow I guessed. He told me, “One second,” and went to the sink to wash his hands. Then he walked into the living room without saying anything else. I followed him after a second or two. He was standing near the couch and I was about ten feet away from him, just kind of standing there like an idiot, with no idea what to do. Finally I kind of stupidly blurted, “Lincoln said I could come by?”

James didn’t say anything for a long few moments, just kind of looked me up and down. I felt even dumber. Finally, he curtly snapped, “Come here.”

I walked over to him, stopping at a normal conversational distance. I was dressed super casual, hair in a ponytail, wearing cut-offs and a spaghetti strap t-shirt. He kind of stared at me, waited a beat or two, then, without saying a word, grabbed me by the waist of my cutoffs and roughly pulled me to him. I felt him put something in my pocket, and I assumed it was what I had asked Lincoln for.

“That’s the first thing you need,” he told me. He let go of my cut-offs, and I just stood there looking up at him. “I know you know what’s up. The door’s right there and you’re free to walk out. No worries. But do it now if you’re gonna.”

I was almost pressed up against him I was so close. I’d like to say all kinds of healthy self-reflection was going through my brain in those few moments, but it was nothing like that at all. Quite the opposite. I was basically standing there empty-headed. After what seemed like a lot longer than it probably was, James grabbed me roughly by the throat and pulled me to him, giving me a long kiss that I can only describe as lewd. There was nothing tender about it at all. He broke the kiss and let go of my throat, which caused me to actually stumble a little. I could hear him kind of laugh under his breath. Then, one word: “Strip.”

If I were going to walk away in an effort to preserve my dignity or rethink my life or whatever, that would have been the moment. I didn’t. It was like a switch had been flipped and the analytical part of my brain got turned off. I stepped out of my sandals and pulled my shirt over my head and off, then slid my cutoffs down and stepped out of them. I was standing there in matching boyshorts and bra, and he was still just looking at me. Right. I took them both off, bra first, and now stood there nude in front of James, who was still fully clothed. In the back of my mind I thought that this nude/clothed situation was kind of becoming a thing with me, but that didn’t make me any less turned on by it. I was still only about a foot and a half away from him.

Four words this time: “On your knees bitch.”

I obeyed instantly and heard a little snicker from him. He undid his pants, pulling them down a little, and I got my first close up look at his cock. He was hard already, and about as think as Lincoln, but longer. He had really nice balls too, big and smooth. He still wasn’t saying anything, so I figured he was assuming I knew what I was supposed to be doing. I reached up and wrapped my hand around the base of his cock. He was darker complected than Lincoln, and the contrast with my skin was even starker. It looked really erotic to me.

I started by kind of kissing the head of his cock, trying to make good eye contact with him. He seemed to like that, so I took him into my mouth, slowly and gently at first, trying to get everything as wet as I could. I wanted to make this feel really good for him, in part because I didn’t think I wanted him to start aggressively fucking my face like I’d seen him do to Joselyn, but mostly because I was already in that submissive headspace where all I wanted to do was please. He seemed to be enjoying himself because although he had grabbed me by the ponytail, he was just letting me do my thing. I was able to get him further down my throat, still going slow but trying to be kind of dirty about it too, because I felt like that was what he wanted. I could still keep my hand wrapped around the base his cock while taking him as far down my throat as I could without gagging. He was big.

He let me keep going for a while then pulled me off of him by my ponytail. He kind of jerked my head upward so I was looking up at him and slapped my face, snapping, “Get on those balls slut.”

It wasn’t a hard slap, but pretty firm, and I’d never had that done to me before. I’m sure all sorts of thoughts should have been going through my head right then, but my brain seemed barely functional at that moment. Also, I kind of knew it was coming. What I did feel was this little thrill go through me, from my stomach like a little lightning bolt through my pussy. I instantly obeyed him, actually moaning a little I was so turned on. I could hear him laughing while I was licking and sucking his balls. I’d gone from nervous to mind-numbingly horny and desperate to please him in a matter of minutes. It was kind of pathetic, to be honest.

“Back on it,” he ordered, slapping me again. I felt that little lightning bolt again, then just smiled at him and obeyed. He liked that: “Yeah bitch, smile and keep sucking.” He let me do that for a few minutes, then came another one-word order: “Up,”

He was pulling me to my feet by my hair, and simultaneously guiding me over to the sofa. He smacked my ass like I was a sheep he was herding or something, then ****** me to my knees on the sofa, bracing me against the arm on the end in basically the same position he’d had Joselyn in the other night. He slapped my ass again, hard, and I felt his fingers inside me, probing to see how wet I was, which was extremely. I hazily thought that this was about to be the second person who’d fucked me on this sofa. I moaned softly again. As rough as he was being it felt so fucking good.

“You dumb slut, you fucking love this.” His fingers were gone, and now I could feel him kind of slapping his cock against my ass. I couldn’t help but imagine what that must look like, and it made me hornier if that was even possible. Then he slid his cock into me with one slow, smooth motion. It must not have been hard for him to do, probably because I was practically dripping wet, but it hurt a little, and I think I kind of cried out. He grabbed my ponytail, pulling my head back, and smacked me really hard on the ass again.

“Shut up and take this dick.” He was fucking me really deep, not particularly hard or fast, but holy ******* it felt so good. That brief little bit of pain was gone, and he was just super deep in me—I could feel his balls hit my ass with each thrust. He was also directing a steady stream of verbal abuse at me, accented by repeatedly spanking me, but I didn’t even register most of that because I was just cumming practically the whole time. My whole body felt like it was impaled on James’ cock, and I was kind of shuddering all over a little as he steadily fucked me.

“Fuck, that pussy tight,” James kind of grunted. He must have been about to cum and didn’t want to, because he really slowed down then, eventually just kind of stopping entirely but still balls deep in my now slightly sore and pretty thoroughly abused vagina. I swear it felt like the end of his cock was somewhere in my stomach. I couldn’t move really because he still had me by the ponytail and I was pushed down into the sofa arm by his weight on me. After a few moments of this, I could feel him slowly pull out of pussy.

“Don’t move,” James ordered me. I kind of sensed him get up, and then he walked in front of me. Thinking I knew what he wanted, I put one hand around his cock, which was still super wet, and went to take him in my mouth. That earned me another slap in the face, harder than before.

“Balls bitch,” he snapped. I made a little involuntary noise when he hit me, then meekly obeyed, licking them as best I could from the awkward position I was in. He didn’t make me do this for very long before pulling me up by my ponytail again. I kind of panted for a second, catching my breath, then he ****** me back down onto his cock, making me take him as deep as possible. I did the best I could, but he was really forsing his cock down my throat and I started gagging pretty quickly.

“Dumb slut,” he kind of muttered, pulling me up again and letting me catch my breath. His cock was drenched in my saliva, so much that I could actually see a little dripping off it. I took him back in my mouth again, trying to go slower, do better, but he was rough and impatient, kind of fucking my face now like he’d done to Joselyn, but not as roughly. I was gagging again pretty quickly anyway though, and he pulled me off again.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” he asked, rhetorically I assumed, as the question was accompanied by another hard slap to my face. “Lick it you dumb slut, try that,” he ordered, and I did my best to comply, submissively kissing and licking his cock, even more desperate to please him at this point. Part of me thought I was failing to meet expectations, I guess. If I’d had any thoughts of dignity earlier, they were for sure gone now. I tried to take him in my mouth again after a couple of minutes of that, and even as aggro as he was, that seemed to amuse him. He let me suck him for a while, then finally let go of my ponytail and stepped away, leaving me kind of collapsed over the arm of the sofa.

I sensed rather than saw him move around behind me again, and could feel his cock sliding back and forth lewdly at the entrance to my still drenched pussy. With another hard slap to my ass, he was back inside me, fucking me deep and slow like before. Pretty quickly though, he began to pick up the pace, slamming into me pretty hard, forsing me into the arm of the couch again each time. He had grabbed my ponytail again, and between that and the way I was braced against the sofa by his weight, he basically had total control of my whole body. I could only move where he let me. The steady stream of verbal abuse never let up, same as when he was fucking Joselyn like this the other night, and he was still spanking me hard pretty regularly. I was sure my ass was red as fuck by now, and I was constantly moaning in a mixture of pleasure and a little bit of pain at this point. The verbal degradation was making the sex even more intense and hot for me, but I felt like James was finding the whole situation amusing.

“Actin’ like I’m about to break your frail ass,” he kind of scoffed, with what sounded like a mixture of amusement and derision. He didn’t let up on how hard he was fucking me. “Not yet bitch,” he added, punctuating that with yet another hard smack to my ass. He finally kind of slowed down a little and started just going as deep as he could each thrust, which felt amazing, with just a little undercurrent of pain to it.

He definitely liked to talk even more than Lincoln, and he was still saying all kinds of degrading things to me as he fucked me, telling me how dumb and slutty I was, and how he was going to use me any time he wanted. Then I felt something else wet right on my asshole and realized he’d just spat on me there. I felt his finger kind of probing, almost teasing me. I was too far gone to really care at that point, and it felt kind of good anyway. He kept fucking me slow and deep, and after a few minutes, I felt his finger enter my ass. It felt weird, but not bad in any way. What was left of the rational part of my brain thought that I better come up with a plan soon because I probably wasn’t going to be spared from having a cock up there for too much longer after tonight. That whole situation didn’t last long though, because a few moments later, he pulled his cock out of me and dragging me off the sofa by my hair.

“Get on your knees,” he kind of panted, and I did what he said, knowing what he wanted. I went to take him in my mouth, but he still had me by my ponytail and ****** his cock down my throat. I wasn’t prepared at all, and when he came I tried to swallow, but he was too deep down my throat. I gagged and wasn’t able to get anything down, instead winding up with cum all over my chest and dripping from my mouth and chin. Some of it dripped on the floor. James pulled my head up by my ponytail and slapped me again, hard.

“Lick that ******* up!” He ****** my face down onto the hardwood floor, and I did what he’d ordered. It was so degrading, but it gave me this super sexy feeling to be ****** like that. I really can’t explain it. I should have been humiliated and revolted, but I never for a second felt like that. In fact, it was like a part of me at that moment had internalized all the abuse I’d been taking, because I had this thought like, you shouldn’t have made a mess you dumb slut—do better. It took me a few seconds to lick everything up, and James kept my head pushed into the floor until I did. He finally let me go and collapsed back onto the sofa, leaving me kind of crouched there, my chest still covered in cum.

“Clean up. Get dressed. Lincoln’ll tell you when to have your ass back here,” James told me, his voice actually kind of mellow now. I think I just kind of meekly acknowledged that then went into the bathroom and tried to clean myself up as best I could. James was still lying back on the sofa with his eyes closed when I came out, and for the second time that night, I was standing nude in front of him while he was basically still fully clothed. This time he didn’t even look up. Expectations were obvious. I quickly got dressed and walked out the door.

When I got to my car, I sat and just caught my breath for a minute, trying to collect myself. It hurt to sit—he hard really roughed me up and my ass had taken most of the abuse. That and my vagina, which was also pretty sore. I used the rearview mirror to look at my face. My cheeks were a little red from being slapped around. I also realized I’d gotten cum in my hair, which is the absolute worst. I was a mess. After trying to touch up my face at least a little, I sent Joselyn a text:

ME: so basically he fucked my brains out and then told me to leave. i have cum in my fucking hair. In my car.

A minute maybe passed, then:

JOSELYN: lol congrats you’re a thot!

I thought to myself that it was a good thing she was basically a ten with a marketable skill set because her jokes weren’t going to get her anywhere in life. But, once again, she wasn’t wrong. This situation had gone totally off the rails, and I didn’t even care. I realized in fact, that despite how thoroughly I’d just been used and how sore I was basically everywhere, I was still really horny. What was wrong with me? Maybe James was right. Maybe on some level, I really did just want to be a dumb slut? What was I supposed to do with that revelation?

TO BE CONTINUED
When’s chapter 5 coming?
 
Chapter 4: The Way It Goes


“That’s just the way it goes,” Joselyn told me with a laugh. We were sitting at a patio table at a coffee shop near the spa where she worked. After that crazy night at Lincoln’s, she had taken me home the next morning. We had both been awake before the guys, and it turned out they’d taken her car from wherever they’d been earlier the previous night. I remember noticing a thong on the floorboard and thinking it was very unlikely she’d been the one driving. Probably otherwise occupied.

That morning, she had been like, “Come on, Lincoln will appreciate not having to get up to drive you.” I was amazed she could even walk after what they’d done to her the night before, but I felt like she was right and agreed. She promised to text me in the upcoming week to get together, and now here we were. It was around three because she’d scheduled her lunch late so we could meet after I was done with school.

“I guess it’s just a lot to process,” I was telling her. “Is it ok if I ask how everything started?”

“Sure—it’s no great story really though. James and Delvin work together, you knew that? (I did.) Right, so there’s a bunch of offices like that around here including theirs, and the employees hang out after work a lot. Mostly at the nicer bars, you know? Finance types, lawyers, whatever. James basically picked me up one night. Nothing super romantic.” She laughed. “It wasn’t my first time—I like what I like, and he picked up on what that was right away. I went home with him. It wasn’t long before he was sharing me with Lincoln and Delvin, and like two other friends of his. You’re not upset about that right? About Lincoln?

“Oh god no,” I told her, and I meant it. “He’s hot, and you’re, like, really hot, so of course. And he told me that night, kind of taunted me with it. While I was watching you guys.”

She laughed. “Typical. You know they probably wanted you to see that right? I bet they planned that *******.”

“Really?” I thought about that for a second. That was…something I would have to unpack eventually. Right then I had other questions though. “So I guess what I also was really wondering about was, umm…like how,” I was stammering like an idiot because I didn’t know how to broach this.

“Oh my god you can say it,” she laughed. “You want to know about them slapping me around? The really rough *******? What that situation is all about?”

“Yes,” I said, relieved she seemed so open to talking about it. “I mean I could tell you were into it, but it was just, like, intense, and sudden?”

“I guess you maybe didn’t expect it,” she observed, laughing again. “Look, like I said, this isn’t the first time I’ve been in this type of relationship. The first time was actually, well, right where you are right now. Senior year.”

“Actually?”

“Yeah. Pretty similar. I met this really hot black guy a few years older than me. Not like James or Lincoln or Delvin though. Let’s just say quite a bit rougher around the edges?” She grinned. “Anyway, it wasn’t like I was exactly pure and innocent before that point, as I’m sure you heard.” She did have a bit of a rep when we were in school together, but I felt like it’d be rude to confirm it. She went on anyway, “Pretty soon it was, well, pretty similar to the situation I’m in now, just the apartment wasn’t as nice.”

“And that’s just kind of your thing now?” I had to admit I was super intrigued.

“That’s my thing. One of them,” She confirmed. “Let me ask you this though—how did you feel when you were watching us? It’s definitely not like you ran away in horror or something.”

“I…well if I am going to be honest watching you guys made the sex with Lincoln even hotter.” I thought about what that might mean for a second. To kind of like seeing that was one thing. To be expected to participate in it was a lot different though. “Is that what Lincoln’s expecting me to do eventually?”

Jocelyn seemed to think about that for a few beats. “Look, it’s like this. It’s kind of an expectation, yeah. That’s fair to say I guess.” She paused again. “I have a pretty good idea how you guys’ relationship probably goes. He’s super dominant, probably has you doing all kinds of things and expects you to do them just because he tells to you right?”

It sounded bad when she put it like that, but she wasn’t wrong. “Yeah basically.”

“Don’t give me that face.” She smiled at me again. “There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s hot as fuck and you like it. I know you do, especially with how much time he spends with you. I’m a little jealous to be honest,” she stated with another laugh.

I was nonplussed by that. I couldn’t imagine her ever feeling jealous of me for any reason. She didn’t seem to be expecting a reaction though, because she just kind of plowed on.

“Anyway, I think it’s like this: guys like Lincoln, situations like this, I feel like it’s kind of inevitable. He’s got this pretty white girl wrapped around his finger, and it’s not a romance thing. He knows you both know that. He’s going to want to share you with his friends, and they expect him to do that. It’s a power thing I feel like. Bragging almost. That’s just how it goes.”

“Like he owns me.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“Yes like he owns you. And stop trying to pretend you don’t love that *******. You’re not fooling me. And you’re for sure not fooling him. Embrace it!”

I suddenly found my coffee cup very interesting to stare at. She was absolutely right. So what did that mean?

So I’ve probably given you the impression so far that my relationship with Lincoln was only about sex and…ok, that’s basically accurate. I mean we talked and had some common interests, but like I’ve said before, he certainly wasn’t my boyfriend, and I wasn’t sure friends was an accurate description either. As I’ve already pretty thoroughly put out there, it was anything but a co-equal relationship. But friends do friends favors, and I knew that if I were in trouble or something he’d probably help me if I asked, regardless of what we actually were. It’s not like it needed to be defined. So why dwell on it?

One thing I liked to do a lot then was get high. I was channeling my inner Lana Del Rey pretty hard that year. Lincoln would occasionally get me weed, which I feel like was fair, since I basically gave him on demand blow jobs, among other things. Abbey and I were planning to go to Venice Beach on Saturday, and we wanted to smoke a little while we were there, so I texted Lincoln around midweek to see if he could help me out. What I didn’t know at that moment was that there would be some strings attached this time. I knew he was at work and was happy when he texted me back about an hour later.

LINCOLN: Ya give me a min will see what I can do.

ME: thanks!

I figured it’d be quite a while before I heard back from him, and was surprised when I got another text back maybe twenty minutes later.

LINCOLN: On the road but James can hook you up pass by at 7.

ME: ok thanks! he knows i’m coming?

LINCOLN: Yes. Do what he says.

ME: ok?

LINCOLN: I mean it you do whatever he tells you.

I wasn’t sure how to respond to this, but I had a pretty good idea of what he meant. Just like that, here it was. It’s hard to describe how I felt in that moment. Part of me was scared and nervous for sure, but there was part of me that was excited and a small part that felt almost relieved. I didn’t understand that last feeling at all, at least not right then. I was still staring at my phone like a dummy, but I had to respond, so I gave him the answer I pretty much always gave him.

ME: ok

LINCOLN: Good girl.

Now what? Like what the fuck? I was lost here and needed guidance, and after a minute I realized I should text Joselyn. Go with who knows, right? I kind of outlined the situation and forwarded her the last text and asked her to call me NOW. She got back to me pretty quickly.

“So I’m guessing you’re feeling a little bit conflicted?” She seemed amused.

That was an understatement, to say the least, but I just told her yes.

“I mean we kind of talked about this before but you seemed reluctant to go into it. I think because you didn’t really need to ask. You get it. It’s just happening sooner than you were expecting?”

“Yeah, I guess? What do I do?” I had like four hours until I was meant to go over there. This was not abstract anymore.

I heard her laugh. “Lincoln wants to push you, see how far you’re willing to go for him like we talked about. He’s sending you to James first, to see how you’ll react. What you’ve got to do is decide if that’s a path you want to go down. And you need to follow your heart on this, not your vag.”

“Ok so…”

That musical laugh again. “Look, if you’re truly torn and want my advice, it’s this: just go for it. You’re leaving in August for school. Have some fun. If you want, you can go and find a sweet college boy then. Or keep being a slut. You can do anything you want, so if you feel like you’re ok with this, all I can say is that it’s amazing sex. I highly recommend it.” I heard her laugh again.

“And what if I don’t do it? Like, what if I just don’t feel like I can?”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah, honestly,” I said after a couple of seconds.

“I mean it’s not like Lincoln would stop seeing you at all I don’t think. I mean you’re pretty and he clearly enjoys you. I do think he’d probably start to lose interest though. I feel like part of the thrill for guys like him is in seeing how far you’ll go like I said. He wants to see how much you’ll give him. He calls you his bitch and he wants you to act like it. It sounds bad when I say it like that, but I think you know what I mean?”

I thought you about it for a long moment, and told her, “Yes, I think I do.”

“Yeah, so it’s kind of expected. If you’re enjoying it—and I know you are because I could hear you over there too the other night.” I could practically hear her smirking through my phone. “You were begging him for it.”

I started to say something, but she kind of cut me off.

“Hey, it’s cool! It’s not weird or anything. It feels good to just totally let go and let someone else be in complete control. It’s freeing. Have your fun!”

“Ok thanks…I guess I have to think about it?”

“Oh my god Sophia. No. You don’t. Text me when you get there.”

When I did get there just after seven (because of course I went), I sat in the car thinking for a minute. Even given everything that happened, everything that had evolved about me sexually, this felt like a big step. It was one thing to have a kinky relationship with one guy, but now he was basically telling me who else to fuck. Like, well—like I was his bitch. Which let’s be honest, I was. I was not sure how to feel about that. Part of me had this absurdly hurt feeling that Lincoln didn’t want me all to himself. Which was stupid. For one, he was apparently regularly fucking Joselyn too, which fair, I couldn’t blame him there. And we both knew this wasn’t romance, it was about sex. So what was I afraid of right now? Like I’d really be a slut if I did this, but all the other slutty and degrading ******* I practically begged for didn’t count? That was clearly made no sense.

James was hot, so it wasn’t that I didn’t want to from that perspective either. So if I’m a slut, I thought, so what? A little late to be worrying about that now. Plus that’s my choice and not anyone else’s concern. Sticking to what was becoming a running theme in my life, I told myself fuck it and got out of the car. I sent Joselyn a text saying I was there and going in and she sent wink and heart emojis back, with “Text me after!” As I was walking up, I felt that weird, distant feeling of relief again. Looking back, I think it was because I had known this was coming and was glad to be facing it instead of wondering about it.

When I knocked on the door, I heard James yell to come in. He was standing in the kitchen and it looked like he was busy chopping some green onions of all things. Making dinner or lunch for tomorrow I guessed. He told me, “One second,” and went to the sink to wash his hands. Then he walked into the living room without saying anything else. I followed him after a second or two. He was standing near the couch and I was about ten feet away from him, just kind of standing there like an idiot, with no idea what to do. Finally I kind of stupidly blurted, “Lincoln said I could come by?”

James didn’t say anything for a long few moments, just kind of looked me up and down. I felt even dumber. Finally, he curtly snapped, “Come here.”

I walked over to him, stopping at a normal conversational distance. I was dressed super casual, hair in a ponytail, wearing cut-offs and a spaghetti strap t-shirt. He kind of stared at me, waited a beat or two, then, without saying a word, grabbed me by the waist of my cutoffs and roughly pulled me to him. I felt him put something in my pocket, and I assumed it was what I had asked Lincoln for.

“That’s the first thing you need,” he told me. He let go of my cut-offs, and I just stood there looking up at him. “I know you know what’s up. The door’s right there and you’re free to walk out. No worries. But do it now if you’re gonna.”

I was almost pressed up against him I was so close. I’d like to say all kinds of healthy self-reflection was going through my brain in those few moments, but it was nothing like that at all. Quite the opposite. I was basically standing there empty-headed. After what seemed like a lot longer than it probably was, James grabbed me roughly by the throat and pulled me to him, giving me a long kiss that I can only describe as lewd. There was nothing tender about it at all. He broke the kiss and let go of my throat, which caused me to actually stumble a little. I could hear him kind of laugh under his breath. Then, one word: “Strip.”

If I were going to walk away in an effort to preserve my dignity or rethink my life or whatever, that would have been the moment. I didn’t. It was like a switch had been flipped and the analytical part of my brain got turned off. I stepped out of my sandals and pulled my shirt over my head and off, then slid my cutoffs down and stepped out of them. I was standing there in matching boyshorts and bra, and he was still just looking at me. Right. I took them both off, bra first, and now stood there nude in front of James, who was still fully clothed. In the back of my mind I thought that this nude/clothed situation was kind of becoming a thing with me, but that didn’t make me any less turned on by it. I was still only about a foot and a half away from him.

Four words this time: “On your knees bitch.”

I obeyed instantly and heard a little snicker from him. He undid his pants, pulling them down a little, and I got my first close up look at his cock. He was hard already, and about as think as Lincoln, but longer. He had really nice balls too, big and smooth. He still wasn’t saying anything, so I figured he was assuming I knew what I was supposed to be doing. I reached up and wrapped my hand around the base of his cock. He was darker complected than Lincoln, and the contrast with my skin was even starker. It looked really erotic to me.

I started by kind of kissing the head of his cock, trying to make good eye contact with him. He seemed to like that, so I took him into my mouth, slowly and gently at first, trying to get everything as wet as I could. I wanted to make this feel really good for him, in part because I didn’t think I wanted him to start aggressively fucking my face like I’d seen him do to Joselyn, but mostly because I was already in that submissive headspace where all I wanted to do was please. He seemed to be enjoying himself because although he had grabbed me by the ponytail, he was just letting me do my thing. I was able to get him further down my throat, still going slow but trying to be kind of dirty about it too, because I felt like that was what he wanted. I could still keep my hand wrapped around the base his cock while taking him as far down my throat as I could without gagging. He was big.

He let me keep going for a while then pulled me off of him by my ponytail. He kind of jerked my head upward so I was looking up at him and slapped my face, snapping, “Get on those balls slut.”

It wasn’t a hard slap, but pretty firm, and I’d never had that done to me before. I’m sure all sorts of thoughts should have been going through my head right then, but my brain seemed barely functional at that moment. Also, I kind of knew it was coming. What I did feel was this little thrill go through me, from my stomach like a little lightning bolt through my pussy. I instantly obeyed him, actually moaning a little I was so turned on. I could hear him laughing while I was licking and sucking his balls. I’d gone from nervous to mind-numbingly horny and desperate to please him in a matter of minutes. It was kind of pathetic, to be honest.

“Back on it,” he ordered, slapping me again. I felt that little lightning bolt again, then just smiled at him and obeyed. He liked that: “Yeah bitch, smile and keep sucking.” He let me do that for a few minutes, then came another one-word order: “Up,”

He was pulling me to my feet by my hair, and simultaneously guiding me over to the sofa. He smacked my ass like I was a sheep he was herding or something, then ****** me to my knees on the sofa, bracing me against the arm on the end in basically the same position he’d had Joselyn in the other night. He slapped my ass again, hard, and I felt his fingers inside me, probing to see how wet I was, which was extremely. I hazily thought that this was about to be the second person who’d fucked me on this sofa. I moaned softly again. As rough as he was being it felt so fucking good.

“You dumb slut, you fucking love this.” His fingers were gone, and now I could feel him kind of slapping his cock against my ass. I couldn’t help but imagine what that must look like, and it made me hornier if that was even possible. Then he slid his cock into me with one slow, smooth motion. It must not have been hard for him to do, probably because I was practically dripping wet, but it hurt a little, and I think I kind of cried out. He grabbed my ponytail, pulling my head back, and smacked me really hard on the ass again.

“Shut up and take this dick.” He was fucking me really deep, not particularly hard or fast, but holy ******* it felt so good. That brief little bit of pain was gone, and he was just super deep in me—I could feel his balls hit my ass with each thrust. He was also directing a steady stream of verbal abuse at me, accented by repeatedly spanking me, but I didn’t even register most of that because I was just cumming practically the whole time. My whole body felt like it was impaled on James’ cock, and I was kind of shuddering all over a little as he steadily fucked me.

“Fuck, that pussy tight,” James kind of grunted. He must have been about to cum and didn’t want to, because he really slowed down then, eventually just kind of stopping entirely but still balls deep in my now slightly sore and pretty thoroughly abused vagina. I swear it felt like the end of his cock was somewhere in my stomach. I couldn’t move really because he still had me by the ponytail and I was pushed down into the sofa arm by his weight on me. After a few moments of this, I could feel him slowly pull out of pussy.

“Don’t move,” James ordered me. I kind of sensed him get up, and then he walked in front of me. Thinking I knew what he wanted, I put one hand around his cock, which was still super wet, and went to take him in my mouth. That earned me another slap in the face, harder than before.

“Balls bitch,” he snapped. I made a little involuntary noise when he hit me, then meekly obeyed, licking them as best I could from the awkward position I was in. He didn’t make me do this for very long before pulling me up by my ponytail again. I kind of panted for a second, catching my breath, then he ****** me back down onto his cock, making me take him as deep as possible. I did the best I could, but he was really forsing his cock down my throat and I started gagging pretty quickly.

“Dumb slut,” he kind of muttered, pulling me up again and letting me catch my breath. His cock was drenched in my saliva, so much that I could actually see a little dripping off it. I took him back in my mouth again, trying to go slower, do better, but he was rough and impatient, kind of fucking my face now like he’d done to Joselyn, but not as roughly. I was gagging again pretty quickly anyway though, and he pulled me off again.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” he asked, rhetorically I assumed, as the question was accompanied by another hard slap to my face. “Lick it you dumb slut, try that,” he ordered, and I did my best to comply, submissively kissing and licking his cock, even more desperate to please him at this point. Part of me thought I was failing to meet expectations, I guess. If I’d had any thoughts of dignity earlier, they were for sure gone now. I tried to take him in my mouth again after a couple of minutes of that, and even as aggro as he was, that seemed to amuse him. He let me suck him for a while, then finally let go of my ponytail and stepped away, leaving me kind of collapsed over the arm of the sofa.

I sensed rather than saw him move around behind me again, and could feel his cock sliding back and forth lewdly at the entrance to my still drenched pussy. With another hard slap to my ass, he was back inside me, fucking me deep and slow like before. Pretty quickly though, he began to pick up the pace, slamming into me pretty hard, forsing me into the arm of the couch again each time. He had grabbed my ponytail again, and between that and the way I was braced against the sofa by his weight, he basically had total control of my whole body. I could only move where he let me. The steady stream of verbal abuse never let up, same as when he was fucking Joselyn like this the other night, and he was still spanking me hard pretty regularly. I was sure my ass was red as fuck by now, and I was constantly moaning in a mixture of pleasure and a little bit of pain at this point. The verbal degradation was making the sex even more intense and hot for me, but I felt like James was finding the whole situation amusing.

“Actin’ like I’m about to break your frail ass,” he kind of scoffed, with what sounded like a mixture of amusement and derision. He didn’t let up on how hard he was fucking me. “Not yet bitch,” he added, punctuating that with yet another hard smack to my ass. He finally kind of slowed down a little and started just going as deep as he could each thrust, which felt amazing, with just a little undercurrent of pain to it.

He definitely liked to talk even more than Lincoln, and he was still saying all kinds of degrading things to me as he fucked me, telling me how dumb and slutty I was, and how he was going to use me any time he wanted. Then I felt something else wet right on my asshole and realized he’d just spat on me there. I felt his finger kind of probing, almost teasing me. I was too far gone to really care at that point, and it felt kind of good anyway. He kept fucking me slow and deep, and after a few minutes, I felt his finger enter my ass. It felt weird, but not bad in any way. What was left of the rational part of my brain thought that I better come up with a plan soon because I probably wasn’t going to be spared from having a cock up there for too much longer after tonight. That whole situation didn’t last long though, because a few moments later, he pulled his cock out of me and dragging me off the sofa by my hair.

“Get on your knees,” he kind of panted, and I did what he said, knowing what he wanted. I went to take him in my mouth, but he still had me by my ponytail and ****** his cock down my throat. I wasn’t prepared at all, and when he came I tried to swallow, but he was too deep down my throat. I gagged and wasn’t able to get anything down, instead winding up with cum all over my chest and dripping from my mouth and chin. Some of it dripped on the floor. James pulled my head up by my ponytail and slapped me again, hard.

“Lick that ******* up!” He ****** my face down onto the hardwood floor, and I did what he’d ordered. It was so degrading, but it gave me this super sexy feeling to be ****** like that. I really can’t explain it. I should have been humiliated and revolted, but I never for a second felt like that. In fact, it was like a part of me at that moment had internalized all the abuse I’d been taking, because I had this thought like, you shouldn’t have made a mess you dumb slut—do better. It took me a few seconds to lick everything up, and James kept my head pushed into the floor until I did. He finally let me go and collapsed back onto the sofa, leaving me kind of crouched there, my chest still covered in cum.

“Clean up. Get dressed. Lincoln’ll tell you when to have your ass back here,” James told me, his voice actually kind of mellow now. I think I just kind of meekly acknowledged that then went into the bathroom and tried to clean myself up as best I could. James was still lying back on the sofa with his eyes closed when I came out, and for the second time that night, I was standing nude in front of him while he was basically still fully clothed. This time he didn’t even look up. Expectations were obvious. I quickly got dressed and walked out the door.

When I got to my car, I sat and just caught my breath for a minute, trying to collect myself. It hurt to sit—he hard really roughed me up and my ass had taken most of the abuse. That and my vagina, which was also pretty sore. I used the rearview mirror to look at my face. My cheeks were a little red from being slapped around. I also realized I’d gotten cum in my hair, which is the absolute worst. I was a mess. After trying to touch up my face at least a little, I sent Joselyn a text:

ME: so basically he fucked my brains out and then told me to leave. i have cum in my fucking hair. In my car.

A minute maybe passed, then:

JOSELYN: lol congrats you’re a thot!

I thought to myself that it was a good thing she was basically a ten with a marketable skill set because her jokes weren’t going to get her anywhere in life. But, once again, she wasn’t wrong. This situation had gone totally off the rails, and I didn’t even care. I realized in fact, that despite how thoroughly I’d just been used and how sore I was basically everywhere, I was still really horny. What was wrong with me? Maybe James was right. Maybe on some level, I really did just want to be a dumb slut? What was I supposed to do with that revelation?

TO BE CONTINUED
Hmmm. Reminds me of Samantha P.
 
Loved your licking the sperm off the floor; very erotic! Btw i really enjoy the insights into your mindset, and how your inner feminist keeps fighting with and losing to your sexual desires. Can't wait for the next chapter:)
 
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