Alley Slut

All characters 18+

***

"I'm sorry about her. I swear I had no idea she was such a nasty ho, otherwise I'd have asked to be assigned someone else. I mean, I can't have the RA waking me up at dawn every morning to let in my drunken roommate whose been out getting fucked all night once school starts."

Those were the first words I heard Jess say when I woke up - or thought I heard (I couldn't be sure that I wasn't still dreaming).

"Yeah, shit, is that dried cum on her face?" I heard a guy's voice ask. I didn't recognize who it was, but his tone reminded of my boyfriend's - a typical bro. "I mean, damn, I thought that all the stories about dumb sluts who went wild at college were just bullshit porno fantasies."

I was almost certain that I wasn't dreaming now, despite the surreal fact that my roommate and some guy I didn't know were talking about me as If I wasn't in the room. And both my head and body were pounding as the events of the last night flooded back to me. Due to both the suffocating embarrassment of what happened - what I'd allowed to happen - and the fact that Jess and this stranger were brazenly discussing it with me in the room, I kept my eyes shut tight, wishing that I could doze back into blissful unconsciousness.

"You have no fucking idea," I heard Jess say, "like half the bar watched as she let this like thirty something year old dude drag her out back to fuck her by the dumpsters. It was the grossest thing you can imagine. And she was totally into it! After bitching me out for trying to be a good friend to her just a few minutes earlier! And all the while this like cocky, creepy piece of shit senior bartender who was trying to hit on all the freshmen - Johnny I think his name was - was taking bets on whether she'd let him quote 'nail that cunt again tonight.' I was just like ick! I had to get out of there. I mean, I don't know if I should have stayed and tried to get her home or what, but honestly, I just have no idea what the protocol is for dealing with such a huge slut like that. I mean, it's not like my friends were these super innocent goody two shoes in high school or anything, but letting a stranger twice your age fuck you in a gross alley behind a college bar the weekend before classes start? Like, what? I just don't know how to deal with that dude."

"Yeah, that's pretty fucked up," I heard the guy say, "and totally not your responsibility. Honestly, it's good that you got out of there when you did. Like, that shows your character, you know? Trust me, you don't want guys to think that you're friends with this slut. Like, if you sympathize with this crazy ho, dudes will 100% think that you're a nasty, easy whore too. It's shitty but true."

"Fuck, that's what I was afraid of!" I heard Jess cry, as she kicked the wall. "What a shitty start to college - now I'll be stigmatized just because my roommate is a whore!"

"Hey, Jess, you don't know that, you can still keep your distance, you know, people will notice that and understand the situation - "

"Yeah, maybe they will - but you know what? It's like you said: I shouldn't have to deal with this shit! It's my first fucking year at college - it's going to be stressful enough without having to consciously distance myself from my slutty ho of a roommate so that I don't grouped in with her! Fuck! You know what? I'm sorry but I really need to calm down. I really think I should like take a shower to de-stress out before going to lunch."

"Hey, I totally understand," her friend said, "it's absolutely bullshit, and I'll make sure that all of my friends know that you're nothing like that slut, ok? Take as much time as you need in the shower, I'll wait here for as long as you need."

"Ugh," Jess sighed before leaving, "thanks for being such a great guy. I just really need to calm myself down and think this over rationally."

The door had been closed for literally half a second before I felt a semi-hard cock pressed against my lips.

"That's right, open up, slut," the guy who was just talking to my roommate whispered, but in a demanding, aggressive way, almost a growl, his tone a hundred times harsher and more severe than when he was speaking with Jess, "I know you can't resist this dick, you little nympho!"

Maybe I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was. And between that surprise, the mental fog brought on my headache, and my deep embarrassment of how Jess and this random guy were just speaking about me, I had decided to pretend to remain asleep. That meant keeping my eyes closed and not responding, physically or verbally. I just stayed totally limp, despite my heart feeling like it was about to beat out of my chest.

I don't know what I expected to happen as a result. If it was to get him to put his dick away and leave me alone, that definitely didn't happen - but maybe that's just what I was telling myself I wanted to happen. Maybe, even though I was profoundly embarrassed and ashamed by the way he and Jess were talking about me, on another level, confusingly, I was also turned on. Maybe, on that same level, even though I was certainly surprised when I first felt his cock resting on my lips, the reason I didn't resist was because I wanted him to do exactly what he did next - push it right past my lips and teeth and begin to slowly and methodically thrust it down my throat while holding my jaw open, regardless of my lack of response.

But on another level, I wanted to scream, or cry, or somehow physically repel him, at being violated so indifferently, but that only would have made me more feel humiliated. After all, wouldn't the time to have done that be as soon as he first put his rigid member on my mouth? And didn't I just lay there, even though I was awake? And so how could I say that I didn't want him to do exactly what he was now doing? And wasn't it actually kind of hot, and feel really nice, tasting his warm, thick cock nestled in my mouth like it belonged there without me saying anything? So maybe it belong there, maybe I didn't need to say anything?

I didn't really have much time to think these questions over though, because as I was letting this stranger use my mouth, passively, he was starting to really pick up steam, getting harder as he started thrusting his member deeper and more aggressively - so deep that it hit the back of my throat. I tried my best not to gag, still deciding not to respond at all. I could soon tell, however, to my part-dismay, part-exuberance, that my lack of resistance only encouraged him. And then, even as I held back tears, I realized that if I focused entirely on what was happening, on just easing the passage of the throbbing hunk of meat being forced down my throat without thinking about it, resigned to the fact that it was already happening, and so just allowing myself to enjoy it, then my feelings of shame and embarrassment would go away. After all, it did taste good, it did feel like it belonged in my mouth, it was hot - so why not enjoy it? So that's what I did: the conflict was over between my inner good girl and inner slut - the slut won.

"Oh fuck yeah!" The guy fucking my mouth groaned, no longer able to keep his voice down, "you really are a super slut aren't you? I almost thought Jess was exaggerating at first! Damn! You just love that dick, don't ya?"

Having fully embraced what was happening, instead of being mortified when he said this like I should have, I was thrilled. But either way I didn't much time to react. Because at that second he ripped the comforter and sheets off my naked body, exposing my pussy, still swollen from the night before, which he slapped hard, sending a sting of both intense pain and pleasure shivering up my spine.

"Yeah, you like that, don't you, ho?" He asked mockingly, as I squirmed, still pumping his dick into my mouth. At the same time he shoved his fingers up my snatch. Even though he wasn't at all gentle, it still caused me to writhe with unsolicited (but not unwelcome) pleasure.

"Answer me!" He hissed, aggressively pushing both his cock and his fingers deeper into me when I didn't answer. "I know you're awake. Do you fucking like what I'm doing to you, slut?"

"Uh, huh," I moaned as best I could, despite him furiously pumping his cock down my throat, unable to resist. I still couldn't bring myself to open my eyes.

"Yeah," he replied, with a sardonic chuckle, "I can tell that you do. So keep sucking that D just like you were made to do."

I did my best to, actively adjusting my head, as if on instinct, to meet every one of his thrusts, allowing him to push himself as deep down my throat as possible. I gagged the first couple of times, but that didn't slow him down at all; but soon, again instinctively, I suppressed the reflex, letting him more easily slide down my throat. Of course, that didn't slow him down either, but quite the opposite. Not that I minded. Every time he pulled out of my mouth and began his assault again, I looked forward to the feeling of his hand on the back of my head forcefully pressing my face against his stomach as he inched his dick down my throat, and wrapping my tongue greedily around its girth, sealing my lips to form a suction around its base as it slid all the way down and then back out, slurping on his precum as it built up in my mouth. It was delicious. I couldn't deny how much I loved not only being used so wantonly, but also the taste of his cock and fluids in my mouth. There was no time to be ashamed or embarrassed; just like he'd said, I realized was doing what I was made to do, what I needed to do, what I loved doing.

"Oh, yeah," the guy I'd temporarily come to see as my "lover" groaned, pulling his dick out of my mouth and slapping my face with it, "you're a real dick suckin' machine, aren't you? I bet you want me to fuck you with this dick don't you, slut?

I did, I really did. But a moment of lucidity came over me with his dick no longer in my mouth, taking up all of my attention. When was Jess going to be back? How long had she been gone? I was momentarily mortified of my roommate returning and thinking that I'd whorishly seduced her friend in the few minutes she'd been gone. Everything they'd said about me earlier came back. If I let this go on for too long and she interrupted, it'll be proof that she was right! I couldn't let that happen ... but I also desperately wanted to feel this wonderful dick I'd so enjoyed sucking buried in my eager pussy. As a result of those concerns and the inner struggle with them, however, I was taking too long to answer. I didn't realize that ... the guy, whoever he was ... was getting impatient. I still hadn't looked him in the face, otherwise I'd have seen the annoyance growing in his eyes. So it was totally unexpected, when, with his fingers still in my pussy, he deftly flipped me over into my stomach, tossing me like it was nothing, as my eyes opened wide in shock, for second, so that I could almost lay eyes on my assailant for the first time, but which immediately saw only the pillow case into which he'd pushed my head with one hand. Just after, his other hand, brutally, barbarically, and with more force than I could have imagined possible came down hard, unbearably, impossibly hard, on my bare ass

again and again and again, as I screamed at the top of my lungs into the pillow.

On and on he went, at different speeds and intensity.

Finally he let up, both of us sweating and panting - him from the amount of exertion he'd put into delivering the thrashing, me as a result of the unbearable stinging and burning sensation spreading across my buttocks, my vocal chords shot so that I could no longer even scream. But despite what he had done to me, and not realizing right away what I'd done to deserve it, I couldn't help being turned on by his show of force and easy willingness to exert control over me.

As he released my head from the twisted position he'd been holding it he said, angrily, "Alright, I'm not going to ask again. And I expect an apology for wasting my time. Listen to me very fucking closely: you are a slut, will always be a slut, and for right now are my slut. I will do whatever the the fuck I want to you, and we both know that you will like it. Because you're a slut. And from now until I get off - and you will get me off - my slut. But if I'm fucking gracious enough to give you the damn pretense of choice, you will humor me with an answer damn it! Understand?" Then another

.

I was terrified as his hand came down on my sore bottom yet again, and realized for the first time that it was all but certain the students on the other side of the bedroom wall could hear everything that was happening. But I also saw that he was right: I'd certainly given him every reason to think I'd get him off, that was true; and if I had just been one hundred percent focused on getting him off, I wouldn't have selfishly been thinking about what would happen when Jess got back, and so I would have answered him, instead of wasting his time, disrespecting him by making it seem like I was rude and ungrateful. And it was also true that I did, in fact, like everything he'd done to me, even if I didn't want to admit it.

"Yes! Yes! Ah! Yes! Ah!" I screamed into the pillow as he continued to thrash my bare bottom a few more times for good measure, "sor-sor-sor-ha-ha-reeeeee! I'm sor-reee!

"That's a good slut," he said, with mock tenderness, finally stopping the onslaught on my ass, and now rather gently, at least relatively speaking, but still firmly, started massaging the tender flesh of my ass cheeks which he'd just been pulverizing a second ago, causing me to moan, "see how much better it is when you're nice and respectful, slut?"

"Yes! Sorry!" I cried immediately, not wanted to be spanked again. But when he withdrew his hand, I was worried that I'd done something wrong, that it was going to come hurdling down on my ass with more force than before. But that didn't happen. I waited, trembling and heart pounding, not daring to move. Finally I felt the bed shift, followed by the feeling of a warm, wiry, naked body on top of mine. The owner of that body immediately made sure that I'd remain entirely pinned face down, wrapping his arms and legs tightly around mine, so that I couldn't move, or do anything, really, other than continue to pant into the pillow. And yet, even though it may sound crazy (and probably is, given the circumstances), I felt so safe and secure and happy being pinned motionless like that beneath him, feeling his muscles tensing as he drew me close, twisting me into the position he wanted me, ensuring that I wouldn't be able to move an inch without his permission. I loved the feeling of his cock, just as tense as his muscles, pressed firmly against my sore, tender ass cheeks, inches from my clit. I don't know if it was all these physical sensations at once, or the emotions they produced, or my inability to stop lustfully fantasizing about how good it would feel when he slid that erect, tense pole into me, or the combination of them, but I was soon getting wetter, actually, dripping.

But, to my surprise, he didn't slide into me right away. Instead, I felt him loosen his grip just a little, apparently so that he could reach around to fondle my bosom, despite my being trapped face down on the bed. I didn't move, of course, didn't want to move, remaining limp and silent (aside from my gasps and moans) as he kneaded my breasts, and pinched and caressed my nipples, all much more gently than I'd have expected. Then, I guess after realizing that I acknowledged his complete control over my body, while still stroking my tits, he loosened his grip even more, and started kissing my back gently, even romantically. I trembled, now out of affection, as his soft lips and impish tongue playfully flittered all along my back and shoulders, working their up my neck, until finally reaching my ear, into which he whispered, dotingly, still rolling my left nipple gently between his fingers, "See how nice of a guy I can be to a slut when she shows me that she knows her place? Hmm, so now that you know what's up I'm going to give you one more chance to respectfully answer my question. And I do expect an answer."

He nibbled on my ear teasingly before continuing, "So, again: do you want me to fuck you, slut?"

"Y-yes!" I screamed, stammering with nervousness - also excitement - and not wanting to miss the acceptable window of time to answer him like I had earlier by even a second.

"Nice!" He laughed, as I felt him back off me a bit, removing his hands out from under my breasts to grab my arms from behind, and then line his throbbing cock up with my twitching pussy (which he deftly did without using his hands, turning me on even more), "Now that's a good slut! Shit, I've never seen such a wet cunt. You're soaked!"

I moaned wantonly, trying not to squirm, as he held the tip of his dick here, just brushing up against my lips. He just laughed, enjoying torturing me.

"You want it bad don't you?" He asked.

"Yes, please," I begged pathetically.

"I hope you're ready for a real hard fuck, slut, especially if you're as loose as you are wet," He replied, chillingly.

Then, finally, I screamed with pleasure as I felt his erect cock slide into my dripping pussy; he didn't give me a chance to respond in any other way.

Well, maybe sliding isn't the right word. No, it definitely isn't. He slammed his cock into my pussy, as hard and deep as possible, and then, before I could even react, yanked both of my arms in order to pull me towards him, forcing me to arch my back and allowing him to bury it deeper. And then he pulled it all the way out and did the same thing again! And again! And again! All the while I was getting yanked and bounced around on his cock like a rag doll. Never had I been treated like such an object, a piece of meat, as if I was just some kind of toy to be used for satisfaction.

And maybe pleasure wasn't the right word either to describe the sensations I was feeling. Not pure physical pleasure, anyway. I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt, getting rammed and yanked and pummeled and bounced like that without any care - but also that I didn't enjoy it immensely. Most of all, I realized that I loved the idea of being used by a dominant guy as a toy, a piece of meat, a means to the end of his pleasure. My vagina was nothing more to this random guy than a warm, lubricated vise to generate pleasurable friction for his cock, I realized. But I didn't care - actually, I liked it! Not only was I not ashamed of being thought of and treated that way - it's exactly what I wanted to be for him, for my roommate's friend who I'd never met before and whose face I still hadn't seen, but who didn't let that stop him from taking what he want. And what he wanted was me, and all the pleasure I could give him! And what was more flattering than that? So I let him tear my pussy up, coming at it from whatever angles he wanted in order to burrow as deep as he could, stretching me out and filling me up so thoroughly that it made me feel as if I was being split in two. So the friction on my end as he hit every one of my most sensitive spots was at least as painful as pleasurable, but it soon mixed in such a way that I couldn't tell them apart. Everything going on inside and outside of me was a lustful, unreal blur.

I don't even know how many more times he thrusted, impossibly deep, grinding, pounding, pummeling ... I was barely aware of how he was causing such extraordinary friction against the walls of my pussy, unable to keep up with the sensations my nerves were firing off rapidly, errantly, driving me ever more shamelessly crazy with rapture, until I started wailing in ecstasy, cuming - but it couldn't have been more than a couple dozen. The neighbors definitely heard. But I didn't care one bit.