This is a tale for all those inner sluts out there who have taken the responsible path in life but let their minds wander back to their dirty pasts when they need a little nudge to make them cum. You know who you are... and hopefully this series of stories will show you that some of us know who you are too... and are waiting for you to have some days off like the stories character.
Two whole days... what in the world would you do? A whole 48 hours with no responsibilities. For all the 'relax and read a good book' comments you're friends (with kids) had given you... you couldn't help but let your mind wander (more like sprint) to 'other' thoughts.
You'd slept in... and woken up with half dreams in your head. You'd been tied up... on your hands and knees, with your legs bent up under you. Your ass exposed and your pussy wet, you'd reached down in bed..in reality.. and dipped a finger inside, it was soaking wet. You slipped back into the fantasy and saw flashes of a camera under your leather blindfold, you hadn't agreed to that! You struggled and tried to yell into the small ball gag, but it only came out as "nahwr pcrkchr".
The men (yes.. plural), chuckled when you made this vain attempt at some semblance of control, "the slut's trying to say something" one of them laughed. "Those noises just make us harder whore.. keep it up... please".
You stopped struggling and you felt the urge to rebel, to resist, to fight, just... slip away. It was replaced by an older, more familiar feeling. One that you'd learned how to deny and suppress. The one that had taken years of sensibility and practicality to push down and hide from your real life. The one that used to control your actions, used to push you into those naughty situations and make you do those bad bad things. The feeling that you would let take over, flip the switch into auto pilot and rid yourself of that troublesome guilt and remorse. The one that would take over and walk you into that dark corner of a loud dance bar, or out into an anonymous pickup truck at a party or maybe bend you over a strangers couch. The feeling that would hold your tongue when any 'normal' woman would scream for help after a stranger's finger would slip easily into your wet slit from behind, in the dark, in the crowd at a music festival. The feeling that you were a slut, a whore, a fuck toy. Meant to be used, used to make those random cocks cum, to reward those men who could 'see' what you really were, who could see the dirty 'do anything to me' slut in front of them and knew to seize the opportunity they were presented with.