Mickey Rat

The chubby asian guy said he had to get back to work, but the other one, Mickey, said "come here slut!" and took me back to the men's bathroom. He made me take off all my clothes, but he stayed dressed. I said would he please hurt my little pussy, and I did not see disgust register on his face, but also he did not smile at me. I was having trouble meeting his eyes.

This was the guy who had fucked my ass and made me lick it clean the other night, and he didn't want to talk, he wanted to push me into a toilet stall and bend me over the toilet. I asked him to "please slap my face" and he grabbed me by the hair and slapped my face really hard. “You are a sickfuck," he whispered. I knew that he hated me and would probably beat me if I begged him to, but I had to please him at that exact moment, I couldn't start talking to him about what we might do later.

He still had me by the hair and now he held my face up to his and said, “I’m gonna spit in your face, you sick skank!” He looked at me and I realized he had asked me a question, he wanted permission. I couldn't help thinking that was cute, and I just smiled and nodded a little. I sort of made eye contact, for a brief second.

“Open your mouth," he said. I couldn't believe he was taking it so far, I hadn't thought he'd be able to do it or if he even wanted to. But I opened my mouth as wide as I could and let him guide me by the hair as he hacked up a bit of phlegm from his throat. What he didn't know was that I had never done this before, either. He looked at me like a rapist and spit his phlegm right into my mouth. “Swallow it, bitch.” And i did.

Then he slapped me again, much harder than he had before. Then he was grinning at me, and loosening up a little. I couldn't believe my luck. “Turn around," he said. “Pull up the seat". My heart was aflutter with shameful skank-needs. I could feel my pussy dripping as he shoved my head in the toilet. “Drink up" he said, and I made loud slurping sounds as he pushed my face roughly down into the toilet water.

It suddenly occurred to me that he wanted to drown me a little, and a thrill of electricity shot up my spine. I let him push my head fully under the water, and he held me under there until I started sputtering, choking on the disgusting toilet water. “You're such a whore," he said, and pulled my head back up, out of the water and out of the toilet. Then his tone changed, and it scared me a little. “You're just a stupid piece of shit,” he said, and he shoved my face back under the water and closed the toilet seat on the back of my neck.

Then he did something that really surprised me, he grabbed my clothes and threw them into the toilet on top of my head. I couldn't quite get a breath before he pushed down hard on the back of my neck and flushed. My hot pink lycra skirt and white stockings swirled around my face, and I started to choke in earnest. He didn't care at all, he just pulled out his hard cock and pissed all over my head and clothes. “You want me to hurt your pussy, slut!?" He yelled as i struggled with a lung full of piss-water.

There was no way I could answer him and it turned out to be a rhetorical question anyway, because the next thing he did was to grab my hips and slam his knee right up into my pussy. “Want more, cunt!?" And I immediately knew it was a rhetorical question, because he didn't pause before his knee slammed back up between my legs, this time catching my clit and smashing it between his knee and the bone of my pelvis. I saw stars and squealed like a pig, my face still under my wet clothes but not entirely under the water. But he didn't wait, he slammed me again in the exact same spot, and I realized he was doing it on purpose. He knew more about hurting a woman than I ever could have suspected, and as he slammed me repeatedly right in the clit with unyielding force, my breathing became easier and I started to feel like I was floating, a feeling very familiar to me but one which I was never sure that I would ever feel again. It was just like when Daddy used to whip my ass with his belt, back when I was in high school. It was a strange experience...

Mickey’s knee-kicks were powerful and rhythmic, and he was not holding back in the slightest. I knew he hated me for being a total slut, just like my father had hated me, but instead of whipping my ass he was pummeling my pussy, and he was hitting the exact right spot again and again, but now I was totally numb, or maybe just somehow detached from my body... I knew there was pain somewhere, but was it mine? Almost logically I determined that it was, it was Jan’s pain, stupid slutty Jan who never stopped rubbing herself. She deserved it! Even God in his infinite wisdom knew full well that Jan deserved this pain, but instead of merciful compassion, God was amused by it. God thought I was a barrel of laughs. He was deeply entertained.

I could feel the eyes of God seeing right into my soul, and He knew that it was my fault and my fault alone. I had sought this out and begged for it. My urge towards carnal sin was so great that I pretended I could not help myself, I had been playing a little game in my own head to trick myself into believing I couldn't resist the temptation. But of course I could resist the temptation, God had given me all the strength I needed to turn away from the darkness and keep my eyes focussed on the eternal light of God's love…. But now, it was I who chose the darkness every time, I who invited the evil right into my own heart, because I wanted to feel these delicious, delectable urges.

My pussy was a succulent, raw morsel that needed cooking, cooking and barbecuing in the raw flame of the world below. And I felt the need, because I wanted to feel the need. I wanted to feel the irresistible urges, the delicious waves of shame, the electric thrill of injury that supplanted any inclination towards God's goodness. And God was looking at me, seeing everything, making me admit this to myself in a way I had never admitted it before. God was shaming me, and I liked it, and He knew I liked it, and God was disgusted with me. But he was not bothered by me, he thought I was funny, he thought of me as a joke. I was just a huge joke in the eyes of God.

I had not felt this way since my body was first blossoming into womanhood, but with ingrained certainty I knew which way to reach to find what I wanted. I turned away from God and Jesus for the eleven millionth time, and reached into the darkest place I could find to greedily satiate my deranged hunger, slurping up everything I could of the waves of evil heat emanating from... where? From that succulent peach between my legs, basking in its own ripeness, simmering in its own sweet juices.

And now I could feel it, the repeating explosions of unholy impact, the sensuous tremors of violence, exploding from the center of my body as knee crushes clit against bone, clit agains bone, again and again and again. The agony was unfathomable, but I didn't want it to stop. I could feel Mickey's brazen hatred of me, of my slutty malformations, of my virulent female lushness eliciting and awakening the evil within him, this near innocent, curious boy.

Mickey could not help but attack me with everything he had, and I could not help but respond to it with animal need. The need to be raped, to be crushed, to be stamped into the dirt and slime of exquisite female pleasure, the responsive blissful agony of defilement and shame. Yes, shame that rolled in waves through my aging body, colliding and fusing with the pain of genital injury as I thrust my naked ass in the air and spread my legs for the predator, for the piercing arrows that damaged my tender target with each hateful and ravenous blow.

And it was all my fault, there was no denying it... God knew it, Daddy had known it, and all the men who ever used me had at least caught a glimpse of it: I could no longer hide behind the myth of sex-addiction, I was nothing but a needy victim, hell-bent on making a target of myself, begging and enticing any and every predator to devour and destroy my worthless female body.