Hate the Sin

I think I have walked between my car and this building a hundred times. Every time I get close to the door I lose my nerve and retreat back to the Buick he bought me. The Buick that was meant to be our family car, that he bought for the wife he felt he was owed, that represented his ownership of me. Every time I saw the front grate of the car smugly grinning at my retreat, my resolve would harden and I would turn around again.

I must have looked crazy walking lengths of the car park, but that was no crazier than what I was building up my confidence to do.

I walk through a nondescript reception area, I don't stop to talk to the receptionist and I feel like he doesn't care. This is very much a no-questions asked office and room 106 was certainly the room that drained everyone's will to enquire further. My hand was still hovering in front of the door, ready to knock, when it was opened by a man that was very familiar to me for all the worst reasons.

...

"Fucking hell I have so many questions." I wince at his casual swearing despite the situation. I am sat on a sofa I know from my research has seen the most degrading besmirchment of women again and again. I am watching a man set up a camera who I know makes his living filming himself destroy any remaining vestige of a woman's purity before selling footage of it to the degenerates of the internet. "So you email me, saying you are a twenty year old woman who wants me to take her virginity. Then you turn up looking like some pale, little house on the prairie looking bitch. What's your name and why do you look like mayonnaise is too spicy for you?"

I don't think my clothes are that backward, they are modest by societal standards, but the long navy blue dress, flowered blouse and grey cardigan are honestly the riskiest clothes I own.

"Hello, my name is Jane, and I'm a member of the church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints." I inform him.

"Seriously, I'm about to fuck a Mormon." He interrupts. I feel like he's gotten even meaner since he turned the camera on. I shuffle innocently into the unspeakably dirty sofa. "Isn't that a sin?"

"Indeed it is. This is a drastic lapse in my faith, one I hope to one day be forgiven for, but one I need to do to punish another sinner." I explain, knowing that I will have to tell my story to this degenerate before he completes our transaction.

"Well colour me intrigued, what the fuck is going on?" The man sits back and stares deep into my eyes, I struggle to meet his gaze as I am staring at the sheer weight of things my family would hate about this man: his tattoos all visible from his sleeveless shirt, his muscles and goatee, his unrestrained lust as he looks at me.

"So I have been saving myself for marriage like a good girl, and just under a month ago I married my childhood sweetheart."

"You're married? Shit you need to tell me the fucking goober's name." He once again interrupted, I was already feeling a warm disgust with this man's complete lack of respect for me.

"I'll tell you his first name, it's Todd."

"And Todd still hasn't got on that milky white pussy?" I once again wince at his coarse language.

"We never consummated our marriage, as at the wedding one of my friends showed me proof that I was the only one going into this a virgin."

"He was fucking around on you, how many girls did he want to fuck more than you?"

"At least three." I answered, somehow not showing any emotion at the life destroying revelation I was repeating. "They looked like prostitutes and I don't know how long he's been procuring their services."

"So you figured you'd fuck me to get back at him."

"Yes, but it's more than that." I reply, gathering my thoughts to explain fully the reasoning that came from my rage. "Todd and I are married, we were sealed in the temple. He cannot leave me unless he gets permission from some high up figures at the church. I am now his for eternity, and seeing as he likes to spread his seed with disreputable women, I feel it only appropriate that you make his wife equally disreputable as punishment."

"Hurting yourself to hurt your husband, that's pretty fucked up. I like it." The man behind the camera sneers. "Is that why when we sent you the questionnaire about what you were willing to do, you fucking ticked every box?"

"When I return to Todd, I want my purity to be completely gone." I reply with stoney determination. "He does not deserve me even a little untainted."

The man looks me up and down, I start to feel like he is smarter than his looks would indicate, he's been judging me since I got in, and from my research, no other pornographic producer/actor seemed as adept as him at finding out a woman's weakness.

"I think you don't know what you're letting yourself in for. There's a big gap between watching some slut get fucked and being that slut. It's not going to fucking stop me but I think there's going to be a lot of tears when I make you my degraded fuck toy." I wince again at this man's horrible way of expressing himself and this time I see a grin across his face as he noticed. "You don't like me swearing do you?"

"I am not used to it." I admit.

"Fucking hell. You've signed up for the most degrading treatment I can give and you're not even comfortable with a bit of potty mouth." He laughs the meanest laugh he can conjure. He can see this is going to be difficult for me, maybe he's preparing for some sort of victory, a video where he breaks the poor Mormon woman out of her depth, a video where he gets to grin at the camera as I admit defeat and clumsily retreat like some girls have done on his site. He doesn't know how much resolve I have. "Alright well I know how we're going to get going. Stand up, look directly into the camera, and tell Todd you're about to be fucked like a whore."

I get to my feet but they wobble under me. I'm staring straight down the lense of the camera, it's unblinking eye recording my every move.

"Hi Todd." I giggle with the ridiculousness of the situation. "As you see fit to sleep with degenerate women, I figured..."

"Alright Roget's thesaurus, you're not giving a speech at church, I don't want an essay and I do want to hear the words 'fuck' and 'whore' come out of that pasty milquetoast mouth." He interrupts, his ongoing rudeness a clear message that I am beneath him. I stammer a bit, forced between my upbringing and this horrid man, before I plaster my faux-sincerest smile across my face and power through his instruction.

"Todd, your wife is a... whore," I squeal in embarrassment as he gestures for me to continue. "And I'm about to be... well I'm going to be... erm. This man is going to... fuck me." He drinks in my discomfort, savouring this early embarrassment. I have such a low bar before my cheeks begin to blush bright red and I haven't even taken off my cardigan yet. The scale of what is ahead of me hits me like a freight train, and I'm sure he sees that in my quivering lip and hands clutching the sides of my dress.

"Alright whore. I'm going to get some sunglasses because you're going to strip for me now and I don't want to be blinded by your whitest of white tits." It is not an order, it is simply a statement of what is going to happen, I am his property and I will be stripping naked because that's what the women he owns are expected to do. I drop my cardigan to the floor and shudder. "Fucking hell you have a face like a pint of frozen piss. Come on smile, you should be enjoying yourself, you're going to become the slut you've always wanted to be."

I plaster a smile across my face and wonder how it was so easy for me. I thought back across my life behind this insincere smile, the times it was on my face as I said 'we're saving ourselves for marriage, isn't it great?' When everyday I went home hornier than a bison in heat. The wedding day as I said 'I do', even though we had only been together for a year, was I sure he was the one or was I just horny? Even when my best friend Evelyn showed me the photos of my new beloved hubby taking different women into his arms, I still managed to keep that same insincere smile across my stupid face for the rest of the wedding reception. I told him I was too tired to do anything in our marital bed on our wedding night with that same grin.

And now that same grin was plastered across my face as I began to unbutton my blouse for this porn making creep.

My torso was a flurry of goosebumps as I dropped the blouse to my side, standing in front of him with just my c-cup beige conservative bra covering my breasts.

"Jesus Christ, you don't usually see a bra like that unless you're watching GILF porn." He exclaims, delighting at another one of my winces at his casual blasphemy. I soldier on, unzipping my skirt from high on my waist and feeling it flutter to the floor. I am now standing in just my underwear, my bra and my high top briefs.

"You look embarrassed, don't know why. Some of the sluts I get on this sofa are more covered than that when they take the bus here." He jokes, looking my body up and down as I feel myself blushing from head to toe. "I didn't say stop. Come on, I want to see those tittes. Wait I've got an idea, before you take off your bra, you are going to look at the camera and invite everyone to see your slutty tits, and you better call them that." Once again it wasn't an order, he wasn't telling me to do something, he was telling me what he wanted to happen and as his sex object I was expected to make it happen. I unclipped my bra, feeling the straps loosen against my shoulders and my breast slump with the removal of support. My hands hovered over the straps as I gathered my wits to look into the camera.

"Hello viewers... I hope you all enjoy looking at my... I mean please everyone look at my... slutty tits." The final words left my mouth at lightning speed as I let my bra flop to the floor, instinctively I immediately cover myself, but when I open my eyes I see his disapproving look and I knew that this wasn't to his satisfaction. My hands shake as I slowly remove them from my breasts and plant them by my side.

"You really are the most arian bitch I've ever had in front of this camera, the pale skin, blue eyes, and blonde hair was one thing but look how pink those nipples are. They look like God stuck some bubblegum on each of your tits, I can't wait to chew on them." I stand still and shudder as he continues to objectify my breasts, my hands balled into tight fists by my sides. "Come on then Goodey Pinknipples. It's time to take off those granny pants you're wearing. Once again I want to hear you invite everyone at home to see your Mormon cunt."

My body goes red as I look back towards the camera, already showing off my disgraced form, it was time for the ultimate humiliation, my total exposure.

"Hello everyone..." I begin but am once again interrupted.

"You don't have to begin every sentence you say with 'hello,' you're not knocking on doors with a copy of the book of Mormon, you're a dirty slut about to show the world her cunt, say it." Through all the shame and humiliation, I still find that same smile I can plaster in my face with practiced precision, I grin and manage to obey this man's wishes without even falling over my words this time.

"I am a dirty slut and here is my cunt." Then, as if it were simply the continuation of the sentence, I yank my knickers over my waist and down my legs, stepping to one side so they aren't even touching my feet. I am now completely naked.

"Jesus Christ, those have got to be some of the blondest pubes I've ever seen. Do you bleach your carpet or did daddy fuck a golden retriever?" He sees my sudden cringe and makes a deduction. "Oh, Someone doesn't like me talking about her parents. You thinking about how they would react if they knew what a whore their daughter turned out to be?"

He was right, my parents had barely entered my mind when I thought up this plan to hurt my husband. But this plan was born of anger and now that anger turned towards my mum and dad. When I played as a princess, their first questions would always be about my prince. They taught me to have humility for my future husband, to be a chaste lady of God so that I would be the best package for the man I marry. For people so judgemental about the promiscuous, they certainly put a lot of effort raising a child to be someone else's property, to believe herself defined by her relationship to her husband. I feel a rush of anger that my parents had basically been co-authors of this plan, their daughter now standing totally exposed to the lustful gaze of a pornographer based on the values they instilled in me.

"Alright fucktoy, here's what you are going to do, hold both your arms above your head and sway your shoulders from side to side to make your tits jiggle. As you do that you are going to look into the camera and apologise to your parents for becoming a fucking whore." Another shuddering wave of embarrassment flows over my body as his expectations, coalesce in a tingle in my unmentionables.

My arms seem to weigh a ton as I raise them up, I grip my own elbows behind my head, my nails digging into the skin on the back of my arms as I try to squeeze the embarrassment out of me. I swallow the bile at the back of my throat and begin to rock my body from side to side, feeling my bust shaking with the rhythm of my lascivious dance.

"Mum, Dad, I'm sorry but your daughter is a whore."

"A fucking whore." The man corrected. "From the top." If this was calculated to make me feel even lower, it was working. It was clear I was to be stuck here shaking my tits for the camera until I had debased myself in precisely the way demanded by my new owner.

"Mum, Dad, I'm so sorry, your daughter is a fucking whore." I apologise as a tear trickles down my left cheek, I am sure that won't be the first of the day.

"You think your parents would ever forgive you if they found out about this?" He asked. I think on this, I genuinely think through his question and a sob emerges from my throat, I have never felt lower and I am still swaying my breasts for the camera as the man had not told me to stop. "I'm going to take that depressing silence as a no."

"They are very judgemental people."

"Well no problem, I happen to know Jesus forgives everyone. So you're going to kneel on the sofa facing away from the camera, legs spread, back arched, hands pulling aside your cheeks so everyone can see your pussy and ass, then you're going to ask that motherfucker to forgive you for volunteering to become a fucktoy."

"I wish you wouldn't call Jesus a mother...erm, that word." I reply on instinct, forgetting the situation I am in. He grins at the huge weakness I just exposed.

"Oh I'm sorry, I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable." He sarcastically replies as he helps me into position on the sofa, forcing my body to contort to his will with his dirty hands. He forces my head down onto the back of the sofa and then with his other hand gives my bottom two swats in quick succession, I squeal with pain as my cheeks turn red under his punishment. "Hope that clears things up. Now you're going to spread your cheeks and tell my viewers that Jesus is a piece of shit and that your sloppy cunt belongs to Satan."

I pleadingly look at him, begging him with my eyes not to make me do this, but his impassive face conveys that this is not some order he can take back, this is an inevitable consequence of the decision I made in anger. He is pulling at every thread of my dignity, my husband and my family have already been desecrated by my actions, there's no reason my faith should be spared. I pull aside my cheeks and a humiliated squeak leaves my mouth as I feel the camera's gaze on my most intimate parts.

"Jesus is a... a..." I try to stammer out, but I can't, my mind begins to shut down, but the man knows how to break the cycle of inaction. He grabs my hair and pulls my head back so we are face to face, his disapproval is palpable and just as I felt like I was about to crack, he spits in my face, then drops me back on the sofa to continue with my blasphemy.

"Jesusisapieceofshitandmysloppycuntbelongstosatan." I squeal, as if saying it faster would make it less blasphemous.

"Wow, you would be in so much trouble if Mormonism wasn't a scam for the delusional." He laughs as I shudder in mortification. "Alright you can sit back down, go on, plant your milky-white ass down on my sofa."

I uncomfortably maneuver myself onto the sofa, shuddering at the thought of the black leather touching my bare bottom and any potential lack of diligence from the cleaner.

"So are you regretting signing up for this yet?" He asks, reading the discomfort on my face.

"The more humiliation you put me through, the more my resolve strengthens." I reply.

"Well that sounds like a fucking challenge." He laughs, "just as a quick question, has Todd even seen you naked yet?"

"No, we were worried that if we saw one another naked we would give in to lust so we have been making sure to be covered around one another as we live together."

"Holy shit, does that mean I am the first person to see you naked since you became an adult?" I let another sob leak from my throat as I nod at his question. He laughs at my debasement as he pulls out a box from behind the desk he was previously sitting at. He reaches into the box and pulls out a buttplug, he shoots me the most demeaning glances as he begins smearing it with lubricant. "Where do you think this is going?"

"Inside my backside." I honestly reply. His face is once again contorted with anger as he walks over to the sofa and once again spits in my face. I recoil at another globule of disgrace rolling down my cheek.

"I am not letting you go through this experience talking like a children's TV presenter. This plug is going in your thirsty asshole. Go on, bend over and beg for it." I once again turn my back to the camera in order to spread my cheeks. My mind whirring with memories of the other videos produced by this man, I beg like the other women he has had at his mercy.

"Please fill my dirtiest fuckhole with that plug. I am a slut who needs to be filled." I plead. He is surprised and impressed at my sudden leap into the role, and it doesn't take long before I feel a cold oozing pressure of his plug on my delicate sphincter. I can feel my tension pushing back against his resolve and I realise that fighting this will only make it worse, that's when I take a deep breath to relax myself and begin to feel the warm relentless pressure of his sex toy worming its way inside of me. I gasp with the confusing sensations of pressure, pain, and a warm radiating pleasure I was not expecting. He leaves me there moaning for a bit of time before I glance over my shoulder to see what is happening.

The man has taken off his pants and underwear, and I am now looking at his erect penis. There is a sense of inevitability swirling around the raw sexuality the man is now exuding. His cock is now my focus, my destiny. Since the moment I stepped in this room, every humiliation was designed to bring me closer to the position where this rod of his would ravish me, and now I could see it I felt pulled towards that conclusion.

"Like it?" He asks with a little bravado. "This is the cock that's going to make you a whore."

"Mmm, can't wait." I reply, surprising myself with my lapse in propriety.

"Well if you're so eager, let's see you on your knees, where you belong." Maybe it's the sensations from the plug, or the feeling that I could fall no further, but I feel no hesitation, I am immediately on my knees, in front of the camera, staring down the penis as it stands to attention inches from my face. My mouth is open and ready, but he doesn't put it in, instead he grabs it and starts slapping it against my face.

He is laughing, I am moaning in frustrated longing, and his penis is making a slapping sound as it keeps connecting with my cheeks and forehead. No orchestra could compose such a rich and fruitful symphony.