Rob leads me through the foyer of the hotel toward the elevators. The foyer is quiet, but it still feels like a sea of heads turn to stare at me. I am underdressed and indecently overexposed. My skirt barely covers my thick round ass with the bottom of my cheeks clearly visible. My stomach is uncovered and my large breasts are spilling out of my blouse. As we enter the elevator he lifts my skirt to give any lingering stares a final explicit view.
As we knock on the hotel room door I am still oblivious to what will be waiting on the other side for me. No idea how many people or their intentions. I just know that today will be the fulfilment of every sexual fantasy I have ever had. I look at Rob and quietly thank him for the last time. I will be forever grateful that he supports my need to be used as hard as I will be today, even if it is beyond his capacity to pleasure me in this way. He is not man enough to satisfy me, and I am eager to find out if the hotel room I am about to enter contains a man, or men, who can give me what I want or need.
A single man opens the door and as we enter, I am initially disappointed that he is alone. He sits on a small chair on the far side of the room and beckons me over. As I take the ten or so steps across the suite, he removes his already hard cock from his jeans and rubs some type of lube onto it. He instructs me to sit on his lap, facing Rob, which I do without hesitation. As I sit down, he slides my tiny knickers to one side and drives his thick greasy cock into my unprepared asshole. He groans with pleasure as I groan in pain. Rob looks away, choosing not to look directly at my pained face. Rob will never understand why I need to be used in this way but has learned to support me.
The stranger doesn't thrust in and out but remains deep in my colon and asks Rob, 'does it understand English' and Rob nods. Ignoring the previous response, he asks 'and does it have a name?'. I am not worth speaking to obviously. Rob replies 'Victoria, but it will answer just as well to cunt or whore'. Still balls deep in my asshole, he searches my handbag and removes my phone. He tosses it to Rob and tells him, 'you know better than that'. Rob apologizes before pocketing my only safety line.
The stranger stands slowly, shuffles me over to the desk, and bends me over. In this position he is able to reach another inch deeper into me, and I whisper my thanks. It feels good to have him explore deeper inside me, and I am glad Rob is able to watch and listen to my groans of growing pleasure. My unnamed sodomizer begins to rapidly pump away inside me before making 5 or 6 deep pounding thrusts. Each pump rocks me backward and forward. Without the desk to steady myself he would have knocked me off my feet. I beg him not to stop, but he immediately removes his cock and prevents either of us cumming. 'I mustn't get carried away' he seems to remind himself before putting his cock away and leading Rob to the door and they both leave. I am confused and frustrated. He had fucked my anus so briefly, but the brutality and dehumanization had been everything I had been craving. My heart was beating hard from the excitement and arousal, and my vagina, so far disregarded, was wet in anticipation. I could feel my clit throb.
As the stranger and Rob exited the bathroom door opens and you enter the room.
You are drinking from a beer bottle but start by handing me a bottle of vodka. I push it aside. I know what's about to happen and I want to be sober and coherent throughout. I don't want to numb any sensation. I want to feel and remember every thrill and delight regardless of the cruelty that you will need to inflict to give me the masochistic pleasure I desire. I have been begging for this experience for months and I plan to savor every delicious moment.
You start to talk, setting the scene for what is about to follow but I also wave away your explanation. I'm here because I want to be and because it thrills me. I don't care how you justify inflicting this abuse on me, whether I deserve it, want it, need it or have earned it. I just know I want it as much as you want to give it to me. The pain and suffering you are about to unleash upon my helpless body is between you and your conscience. And the pleasure it gives me is if for me to rationalize later. Men, alone or in gangs, and even the occasional woman, have been spitefully hate fucking me since my teens. I am no longer interested in their motivations but remain grateful for every moment of ecstasy they have given me.
You move over to the chair and flip it over so the legs are pointing upward at about a 45° angle. 'Fuck the chair legs' you order and without pause I stand over the lowest leg and squat down until the first leg enters my pussy. I slowly increase the speed and depth of my thrusts as you step behind me and insert the neck of your beer bottle in my ass. I am soon instructed to swap and sodomize myself with the chair leg as you bottle my cunny. I don't know if it is the physical act, or the feeling of submission, but you quickly recognize the growing arousal I am feeling and order me to disengage from the chair.
I can already tell you will degrade and debase me with creativity and I pray that you physical prowess matches your degenerate imagination.
You remove your bathrobe to reveal your already dauntingly large but limp cock and I smile. "You can't get that pathetic thing hard can you, faggot?'' and you immediately strike me with the back of your hand across my cheek, knocking me to the floor by the force. I see your cock twitching and smile again. "Is that how you get hard, fucker? Beating women?" I want you angry. I want your full retribution and scream, "you even hit like a queer, you piece of shit homo". You don't answer and instead strike me again across the other cheek and then punch me in the stomach. I would never tolerate a man laying hands on me in any other situation than this. But in this consensual environment, I feel a release that only subjugation and submission can give me.
