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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2014. Please
do not remove the author information nor make any
changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you
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Client
by SweetSera (no address provided)
***
Escort agrees to brutal rape role-play with a first time
client. (MF, nc, rp, v)
***
"What are you doing in here?"
"Shut up!" hitting me in the face, stunning me. My face
throbbed and I shook my head to clear the dizziness.
Arabic. Slender, short black hair. No taller than me,
his eyes hidden behind thick black sunglasses.
Every single time I opened my mouth, resisted, he
smacked me hard. Would this client leave me with
bruises, a black eye?
Dazed from the blows, he pushed me down, unzipping his
pants, half heartedly I sucked him, whimpering. It was
hard to keep my lips tense. Dis-satisfied he pulled
away, leaving me there staring at the carpet.
He grabbed a small black duffle bag and pulled out
yellow rope. The kind that might have been used to tie
down luggage on top of a truck for a family vacation.
Made from some sort of plastic, frayed and abrasive.
My heart began to pound with real fear as he wound the
cord around my wrists and then ankles.
This was a huge leap of faith. He was a new client. Not
to the company, but to me. And he was preparing to rape
me.
Once he had me tied, he returned to raping my mouth. I
couldn't stop from coughing and sputtering as he jabbed
into the tender flesh of my throat.
His voice fell on the top of my head, "You're a nasty
whore aren't you? You like this don't you? You want it!"
The only breaks my mouth were given were the pauses he
used to lean back and strike my face. My skin was raw
and red.
His cock slipped so far into my throat that my stomach
heaved and vomit spewed out in front of my knees.
Humiliation flooded over me, unable to wipe my lips. The
tears that pricked my eyes, finally spilled out,
weeping. I wondered how he would react to making me cry.
SMACK, he back handed my face, jarring me, and rammed
his cock back into my throat. There would be no mercy
for tears.
Pulling out, he grabbed my hair, yanking me towards the
bathroom. I hopped, struggling to stay upright. I
couldn't connect myself with the girl shivering before
me in the mirror. Pushing my head towards my image he
forced me to confront reality. The make-up so vainly
applied was now garish and smeared. My blue eyes rimmed
with red and swollen. Worse, my blonde hair was sticking
up in every direction. Not the image of sexiness and
seduction I wanted to be. I looked at his face in the
mirror. Cruel lips hurtling more insults. Calling me
names.
Yelping as he tugged my hair, he forces me to the
toilet. As I sit there, he unravels the yellow rope
binding my ankles.
"Pee" He orders me. A gun to my head wouldn't have made
pee in front of anyone. My bladder was frozen tight. In
shock I sat there as he stormed from the bathroom and
returned with something green in his hands. A cucumber.
"Pee!" he shouted as he jammed it into my cunt. I shook
my head in vain as he violated me roughly, yelling over
and over for me to pee for him. I squirmed. My mind
shifted. I simply needed to out wait the assault with
the cucumber. He would tire of it. I shut my mind down,
hating the green stiff vegetable.
He cursed as the cucumber broke from his violent
handling. He seemed truly angry, throwing the broken
halves on the floor. My hair seemed to be the easiest
way for him to jerk me from place to place. Knowing the
pain that seared my head each time.
He forced to kneel once more near the puddle of vomit.
He was now holding a red hand towel in his hands. He
seemed to pause, letting me see what he held. Reading my
face. I knew what it was, and I knew what he wanted to
do with it. It was the ultimate humiliation in his mind,
and my willingness to allow him to try it, was what made
him chose me over the others.
He twisted the towel in his hands, looking down at it.
"I jerk off onto this towel every day." He spoke softy,
waving it closer to my face. "I haven't washed it in
months." Looking in his eyes, I realized his sunglasses
had come off at some point, but I couldn't recall when.
My eyes couldn't hold his narrow examination. My body
began to shake with tiny shivers.
"Open your mouth."
"Please, no" My plea started firmly and with each
repetition became weaker and softer. Fresh tears wet my
cheeks. Somehow he had made the whole world stand still.
Nothing in the world moved except me on my knees in this
hotel room and the red towel in his small hands. My weak
cries and his threats punctuated by a flurry of smacks.
It took everything I had to part my lips and teeth
halfway open. He saw the opening and began stuff the
towel in that small space. I gagged and pulled my tongue
as far back into my mouth as possible. The saltiness of
the material felt like it was burning the flesh inside
my lips. I jerked my head back, clamping my lips tight
as soon as the cloth was free. I couldn't do it. I
couldn't force myself.
The revulsion was too much. I was willing to accept a
beating before I would open my lips again.
Frustrated he pushed the towel against my tight thin
lips. His hand bashing my head grew fiercer, and I kept
my head down, weeping. The pain intensified and a wave
of dizziness washed through me.
I opened my eyes, not sure I I had just blinked or
passed out. I was laying flat on the carpet, something
sticky and wet under the small of my back. I looked up
and he was standing over me, jerking on his cock.
Seeing my eyes open, he bent down and grabbed a handful
of my hair. Yanking me into the bathroom, and into the
tub. My gold high heels seemed so loud in the empty
plastic bowl. I knelt in the tub, my head down, eyes
focused on my knees. I was truly afraid.
He climbed up onto the sides of the tub in front of me.
I knew he was going to piss all over me. My mind was
screaming. Screaming at myself. My lips didn't move. I
didn't want him to do it. I wasn't going to stop him. I
was going to kneel here and let him. I blubbered like a
baby.
After nothing happened I finally looked up at him. He
was rubbing his cock and trying to coax it to relax and
release the urine. My head dropped, my shoulders shook.
I was startled when he stepped off the tub and dragged
me back into the main room. I knew he was frustrated. He
forced me onto the carpet in front of the dresser. I
felt relief, knowing his time would soon be up, and he
was going to finish. His thin bony fingers went up my
skirt and jabbed into my pussy. There was to be no
pleasure in it, only more pain. If I didn't whimper
enough, he would pinch, slap and jab harder to get the
reaction he wanted. My relief was so great that I had to
fake the level agony he needed.
He pulled out a condom. I turned my head so that all I
could see was carpet. He climbed between my legs. My
arms were still bound behind me, crushed by my body
weight, tingling without circulation. He kept pinching
my nipples as he pounded into me, and I cried out each
time, still staring at the carpet. It was about ten
minutes before he pulled out of me, ripping the condom
off. He covered my stomach and thigh with his load.
My body was tense as he reached down and pulled me up
off the floor. He walked me over to the bed. As I sat
tenderly on the edge, he untied my wrists and fetched me
a hot wash cloth. As he packed his things, I wiped
aimlessly at the drying cum on my skin. His bag packed,
he sat next to me for a moment on the bed.
"I'd like to see you again."
"Definitely," I lied.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
any way, shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any
of the scenarios in this story should seriously consider
seeking professional help.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 81