I should have written this disclaimer prior to chapter 1 of this series. I did not anticipate the feedback that I've received from the first four chapters. This is a work of fiction/fantasy, and is to be read as such. I do not, have not and never will condone the treatment of women as depicted in this story in real life. This is a story clearly labeled as being in the "non-consent/reluctance" category. For those who are offended by this type of story, FIND ANOTHER STORY TO READ. For those of you who have enjoyed the story and expressed that, thank you for your encouraging words and even story ideas. I have always enjoyed corresponding with those who leave a message with a return address.
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Angela sat in her bathtub trying to wash away the feeling of shame and filth that kept washing over her like the waves crashing on a beach. She began to mentally list all the men she'd used over the years to advance her career. 'Was this karma?' She mumbled to herself as she soaked. She had fucked and sucked her way to the top. She had manipulated men whenever and however she needed to get what she wanted from them. She had used sex as a tool to get what she wanted. As she thought back over the last 20 years of her life, she recalled a few times when she actually enjoyed sex. Then it dawned on her that every time she'd enjoyed it, it was always with a man who had a dominating personality and took charge in the bedroom.
John hadn't just taken charge and dominated her. He'd raped and used her like a cheap whore. Then he passed her off to Tom and three other guys who raped and used her for the rest of the day. She sat there numb, hugging her knees to her chest, as she replayed the days events over and over in her head. She tried to block them out. But every time she tried, John's words echoed in her head. Would he really sell her? Would he really take her daughter and do to her what he'd already done to her? Maybe even worse? She began to sob again as her emotions fluctuated between rage and hopeless despair.
Angela began to contemplate Tom's offer. She had detested the man from the first day they'd met. She didn't even know him before she started hating him. He was just another male asshole who used women for their pleasure. Then her own conscience screamed in her head, 'JUST LIKE YOU DID BITCH! JUST LIKE YOU DID!' She had lived such a double-standard for so long it had become part of her psyche. Men were there to be used for her advancement. They were just cocks that could open doors for her. The hypocrisy of her life slapped her in the face. Mentally she began slipping into that mindset where she blamed herself for the way she'd been treated. Maybe she deserved what she got.
Angela screamed. "AAAAHHHH! Fuck it! He's messing with my mind, and he's not even here!" She sat back and tried to compose herself. "I've got to regain control." She began thinking out loud. "I need help! Admit it Angela! You can't do this alone!" She got out of the tub and dried off. "Tomorrow morning I'll go see Tom. He's the lesser of the two evils!" After downing two sleeping pills and a bottle of wine she fell asleep in her bed.
Angela dialed Tom's number on her phone as her hand shook. She knew she had to regain control of her life somehow. Right now this seemed like the only course of action that might help bring that about.
Tom smiled as his caller ID read that it was Angela calling him. "Good morning whore. What can I do for you?"
Angela ignored his greeting. She was hoping this would be a civil conversation. This was business as far as she was concerned, and that's how she wanted to keep it. Her voice shook slightly as she answered. "I want to talk to you about your offer." She was hoping to do this over the phone.
"You know where I live." Tom said without waiting for her to continue. "I'll be home all day. You want to talk, come on over."
Angela began to respond. "I was hoping . . ." The phone went dead. "Damn! I was hoping this would be easier than this." She dressed in an old pair of jeans and blouse as she thought about how to approach Tom with his offer of help from being sold to Barron Aime. The thought of that little fat man touching her made her skin crawl.
Angela parked her car in the visitors' parking lot of Tom's condo an hour later. She walked into the foyer and buzzed his number. "Yeah!" Tom answered over the intercom system.
"It's Angela," was all she said. The front door buzzed letting her in. Angela made her way to his condo on the fifth floor. Tom opened his door just as she approached it, as though he knew exactly how long it would have taken her to take the elevator up from the first floor.
Angela stepped inside as Tom closed the door behind her. "Tom, I want to talk to you about what you said yesterday." She couldn't bring herself to acknowledge that she desperately needed his help, and his offer was meant to keep her from being sold like a piece of meat.
"Sure! We can talk! Now strip naked!"
Angela's eyes bugged out. "What? No! I mean . . . I just came to talk to about . . ."
Tom slapped her across the face with a swiftness that she didn't see coming till her head was spinning sideways. Angela yelped and began to whimper as the sting of his blow registered in her brain. "I know why you're here you stupid whore. You thought you'd use me to protect your worthless ass! Didn't you?" He slapped her again. Angela began to sob. This was not the scenario she had envisioned. He slapped her again. "Didn't you?!" He almost screamed at her. Tom was well aware of her history, how she had used men to advance her career since college.
"No!" Angela sobbed with her head hanging, trying to avoid another blow to the face. "I just thought. . . I wanted to talk."
Tom laughed. "We'll talk. When I'm ready. Now strip naked and throw all your clothes in the corner there. You can put them back on when you leave." He then walked across the living room and sat down in a chair where he could still see her.
Angela slowly began to remove her clothes as she whimpered in defeat. She felt that glimmer of hope she had held onto in her mind being ripped from her. Was Tom going to be no better than John? She kicked her shoes into the corner, then slowly slid her jeans and panties down her legs, and threw them on top her shoes. Then the blouse and bra. She stood in front of the door naked with tears running down her cheeks awaiting further instructions from Tom.
Tom leered at her with great satisfaction. She had treated him like he was just a piece of shit to be scraped off her shoes since the day she'd started at the company. He almost felt sorry for her. Then he realized that if it hadn't been for her fuck-up, embezzling so much money from the company, she'd still be treating him with contempt. "Now get on your hands and knees, you fucking cheap whore, and crawl over here!" Angela obeyed knowing she had no other options. Her tits swayed from side to side as she slowly crawled across the floor. "Let's hear it whore! Tell me what you are! And make it sound convincing!"
Angela moaned as she felt those old feelings she'd only felt a few times over the course of her life. Feelings that she did her best to suppress whenever she felt them overtaking her. She loathed herself for responding to his domination and humiliation of her in a way she didn't want to. "I'm just a cheap whore! A cunt to be fucked and used! I'm a slut! Just a cheap slut!" She crawled till she was on all fours between his legs. She couldn't bring herself to look up at her tormentor.
