Used And Abused In Shame Ch 02

Continuation of Used and Abused in Shame, Ch 1. In this part she fall deeper and deeper into humiliation. A humiliation she craves even if she's also ashamed of it. She try to handle it herself but it's hard. She fails. This episode includes some self-abuse.

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The previous chapter ended like this:

When I came to my senses again, I felt that it hurt particularly on a part of my ass covered by a large patch. Then I remember. I got up and carefully removed the patch. It was hard to read and I had to stand in an odd angle but I managed to read.

Tattooed into my ass, in black block letter, was written:

ANYONE WHO READS THIS SHALL BE AWARE

THAT THIS IS JUST A WORTHLESS FUCK TOY.

A TOY CAN'T BE RAPED,

JUST USED AND ABUSED.

IT MUST BE PUNISHED IF IT CUMS.

TREAT THE TOY LIKE THE SET OF HOLES IT IS.

IT'S ONLY PURPOSE IS TO GIVE MEN PLEASURE.

THE TOY BELONGS TO ALL MEN AND

HAS NO WILL OF IT'S OWN.

As I took in the awful, impermeable evidence of the extent of my degradation, and realized just what my future life would now be, I reached for the lipstick once again. I knew I'd soon be drawing more lines on my stomach.

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I staggered back to bed. I didn't bother to wash myself. I just wanted to sleep. I fell asleep immediately and slept dreamlessly. When I woke up it was dark outside. I must have slept for ten hours. All the memories came back to me. My body hurt, but the thoughts in my head were worse.

Without wanting it, my hands found their way down to my clit and pussy. I started masturbating again. In my mind I went through what had happened as I masturbated. It wasn't some gentle caressing. I was harsh. I did it rough. Heavy-handed to numb the pain in both body and soul.

I came.

I was breathing hard.

Then I started masturbating again.

Without knowing why, I slapped my face, saying out into the air "Whore", "Slut", "Fuck-toy".

When next I woke it was early morning. Despite my confusion, I realized it was Monday. I picked up the phone and called in sick at work. It was probably the first time it had happened so they were surprised and realized that I must be really bad if I wasn´t able to come to work.

I dropped the phone on the bed after the call and feverishly started masturbating again. In my head, the images from the past weekend flickered. I probably slapped and beat myself and probably called myself things without being aware of it. Then I fell asleep again and slept as if unconscious.

The next time I woke up, I staggered to the toilet. When I had peed, I looked at myself in the mirror and everything once again came back to me with the same result. But this time I lay myself down on the bed and masturbated. I probably did it 3-4 four times very harshly and I hit myself and screamed things out loud. Then I fell asleep again. This was repeated several times throughout the day. I had completely lost control of myself and time.

When I woke up again it was evening. I didn't know if it had been two or three days since the gangrape. I took a shower and washed myself thoroughly. Finally, I felt clean and had rid myself of the smell of piss and cum that had clung to my body for days. I found something to eat.

Still the gnawing hunger of horniness remained. I ran wild and nude around the apartment collecting things I could use to satisfy, punish and humiliate myself. I saw the pathetic pile I had collected, a dildo, some rope, tape, clothes-pegs and some more items and realized this wasn't enough.

The adrenaline was pumping. I was almost high. I couldn't be still and take it easy. I couldn't calm myself down. I had to have more.

Without thinking, I grabbed my coat and purse, put my hair in a ponytail and hurried out. Once outside I realized that I was completely naked under my coat, but I didn't care. I hailed a cab and gave an address near the sex shops in town.

When I entered a shop my mouth fell open. Wow! They had everything! There were quite a few men there and they checked me out. I saw in their eyes that they looked at me the same way as at the women on the video covers and posters. A slut who does anything and lets herself be filmed doing it. I didn't care.

I found the section for toys and there I went shopping crazy. This was what I needed; I must have it...all! I found a shopping cart and started filling it. I took everything I could find. Dildos and butt plugs in different sizes. Handcuffs, chains, ropes, clamps, paddles, whips, gags, collars. I really picked everything.

Now I had what I needed.

Now I could handle my desires myself.

I didn't care what it cost. I was buying myself free. Now I didn't need anyone or any others. I could treat myself and live out my cravings on my own. At least that's what I was hoping for.

I walked up to the checkout with my cart. There was an unshaven and unkempt guy at the till. In a way he was a bit scary but I didn't care. He looked at the contents and then at me. He examined me from top to bottom. It was like he saw through me, looked into me. He undressed me and my soul with his eyes.

"This looks like either a real party or maybe something to do the whole weekend," he said with a wicked smile.

"It won't be cheap, lady." He fell silent for a while. Then added "I can help you... and also get you a discount."

"H-how, w-what do you mean?" I asked submissively.

This encouraged him. He did some digging in the basket and picked up a butt plug. Definitely not the biggest in there. Then he took down a bottle of lube from the shelf behind him. He held them up in front of my blushing face and said:

"Let me put this in so you can wear it all the way home."

I looked at him and the butt plug and lowered my eyes. I was buying this to support and handle my desires all by myself. And yet when doing so, I seem to be giving into the first guy I meet.

I almost imperceptibly nod "yes".

He smiled and told me to come behind the counter. I walked around while staring fixedly at the floor.

"Bend forward and grab your ankles," he said. I did as he commanded without thinking.

He lifted my coat and whistled in delight when he saw that I was naked underneath.

Suddenly I got scared remembered the tattoo. What if he saw and read it? But then I remembered that I'd covered it with a compress so calmed down.

"Stand like that. Now grab your ankles as I said so you are steady."

I was standing behind the counter in a shabby porn shop, bent forward with my naked ass up in the air, waiting for a slimy guy to insert a butt plug into me.

'Have I sunk so low that I let someone treat me like this?', I thought, realizing that the answer to that question was simple. The answer was yes, and I would sink even further down.

He smeared lube on the butt plug and put it against my tight hole. Slowly he pushed it in. Then he pulled it out, rotated it a bit, then pushed it in again. It was obvious that this was not the first time he had inserted a butt plug.

I tried to be quiet but couldn't help to moan softly. Of course, he heard it.

"You like it," he said with a confident grin. "I saw right away that you were a horny slut when you came in. I should have taken one of the bigger ones." He reached down and pushed the plug all the way in. It hurt but I managed to keep quiet.

I remained as he commanded and waited.

"You're an obedient whore too," he said, slapping me on my ass. He took the opportunity to spread my ass and put his thumb on the butt plug to make sure it was in place. I realized that my pussy was also on display. Parted. Open. All too available.

"I sure would like to use that cunt sometime," he said thoughtfully and I blushed at the degrading comment.

"Get up whore, you're not going to be getting any more fun."

I remained behind the counter when he registered the items into the cash register and put them in a bag. He stopped when he held up a couple of weights hanging on hooks.

"Hmmm," he said. "Interesting. Most sluts usually prefer clamps. So do most dominants. But not you... I wonder why?"

He looked me straight in the eyes and ordered:

"Open the coat."

Slowly I pulled the coat apart and showed my breasts. I had realized what he figured out and that he wanted to make sure he was right. He grabbed one nipple to make sure the rings weren't fake and really pierced. I winced at the pain and slowly pulled back.

"Oh, please be careful, it's completely new and they're sore. I can't handle much."

He smacked his mouth. "You are really something very special." He opened a package with a couple of smaller weights. Fastened one on each hook and then hung them on each of my rings in my sore, newly pierced, nipples.

I let it happen. I didn't try to stop him. I never said no or tried to pull away even though it hurt like hell. I realized I was worth it. It was a punishment I had to take. Anyone can do this to me. That's how I should be treated. This is what I am.

He threw the package in the bag without charging for it.

"There you are whore." He told me the price for my perverted collection of items. It was a lot of money, despite deducting half as he promised.

'It's costly to be kinky,' I thought ...but this stuff should at least prevent me from looking up the man I meet a week ago and had me gangraped. Or any other man for that sake. Now I can handle myself.

I walked carefully towards the exit. Both the butt plug in my arse and the weights in my nipples hurt. I tried to find a way to walk that didn't make the pain worse.

"Wait," shouted the guy. "I'll get you a cab so you get home properly. You know, we really take care of our customers."

He went back into the premises and spoke to another customer in a taxi uniform. They talked for a while and looked at me sometimes. I stood there stomping and didn't know what to do.

They came up to me.

"Joe here has a cab. He'll drive you home safely. Follow him. His car is around the corner."

Joe was probably the typical porn consumer. A bit over 50, a little fat, unkempt, poorly dressed in an ill-fitting uniform. The dark hair was a little too long and looked greasy. Maybe he was married but if so, he didn't get what he wanted at home. He was obviously a regular customer at the porn store. Involuntarily and without thinking, I followed him out of the store. There was indeed a cab outside.

He walked around the car towards the driver's seat while asking:

"Where do you live?"

I gave him my address.

He just replied, "Get in the back seat" not bothering to open the door or make any attempt to be polite.

That I should sit in the back seat wasn't a choice, just an order.

I got into the car and sat in the back seat as I was ordered. I didn't have time more than to sit down before the car started up. He looked in the rear-view mirror mostly to see that I was there. Otherwise, he totally ignored me.

I had a hard time sitting with the plug in my ass and the weights straining on the nipples. I couldn't sit still. I was moving all the time, my focused consumed by the sensations from my ass and breasts. He could have driven anywhere without me noticing.

Suddenly we arrived at my house. He parked the car a little out of sight in a dark spot. Without me reacting, he had gotten out of the driver's seat and climbed into the back seat and sat next to me.

"Now it's time to pay whore," he said and unbuttoned his pants and took out his cock "...but first I want to see those tits. Open your coat."

I did as he said, blushing, and he took a good look at my breasts, the pierced nipples and the weights hanging from the rings.

"He didn't lie..." he said, almost to himself.

Without saying another word, he grabbed my head and hair, using my ponytail as a handle and pressed my face against his crotch and erect hairy cock.

I felt as though I was in a trance. I didn't seem to notice nor really be aware of what was happening to me. It seemed to be almost as if were an observer, watching how this taxi driver treated a poor girl badly in the back seat.

If I'd been watching this happen in a movie, I would have become aroused. The truth was that was exactly what was happening to me. I'm ashamed to say it but I couldn't help myself. There was something just so primal, so degrading and so filthy about what I was letting happen.

When he pushed my face down, I just naturally opened my mouth. It was obvious. No questions or commands were needed. He grabbed my head with both hands and pushed it up and down. At the same time, he lifted his hips to get further inside. All I had to do was keep my mouth open. I wasn't sucking him off. He was fucking my mouth at the pace he wanted and how he wanted. Fucking? No...he was basically using my mouth to masturbate. He didn't care about me. Why care about a fuck-toy? And that's what I was to him. Nothing more than a cock-sleeve. I forced his cock deep down my throat and had to concentrate hard so my gag reflexes didn't take over.

He pulled me up, looked me straight in the eyes and, with disgust shouted "Whore!", spat in my face and slapped me, before pushing me down and continuing.

After a few minutes I could feel he was getting close. I readied myself, expecting to have to swallow his load, but just before he was about to cum, he pulled me up with one hand, yelled "close your mouth!" He jerked a few strokes more with his free hand then shot his cum-load all over my face.

When he had pumped out the last drop, he told me, in a slightly calmer tone, to open my mouth and suck his cock clean. When I finally finished cleaning his cock to his satisfaction, he threw me back on the back seat. My face was completely covered in cum.

It was no small load he had sprayed. I felt it run and drip onto my coat. I just sat there, as though incapable of moving or doing anything.

"So, whore. I have driven you home and you got a bonus. You should be thanking me", he said, with a leer that made me feel even cheaper and dirtier.

"T-thank you" I answered, in a low voice, looking down.

"The next time you need a cab you call me. Do you understand?"

I nodded as he handed me a card with his name and phone number.

"Now get out of my cab whore, you're making it dirty...and take those filthy perverts' toys with you."

I hurried out of the car and up to my apartment. Inside I just tore off my coat and threw myself naked on the bed without taking out the butt plug or removing the weights. I didn't even bother to wipe my face. I grabbed the magic wand from the bag, plugged it in, switched it on and then pressed it hard against my clit, almost cumming on the spot. I moaned louder and louder, getting closer to the release, but it wasn't enough for me.

Something was missing to make me get over the edge. I fumbled for the bag again, finding a big, thick, long dildo and pushed it into my pussy. There was no need for lube. I was already soaking wet and wide open.

I writhed on the bed, one hand pressing the wand against my clit as the other fucked my pussy with the dildo, the plug still buried deep in my arse.

Still, I needed more. I grabbed the bag again, grabbed a roll of tape and used it to secure the dildo to my left leg so that it would stay deep inside my pussy without me having to hold it. With my now free hand I grabbed a leather paddle and started to hit myself all over my body. On my stomach, on my breasts, in my face. I hit hard so the skin got red.

Whilst doing so, I kept telling myself "You're a whore, nothing but a cheap whore. You're a cum dump, a slut."

The orgasm was so close. I screamed out loud. "I'm a whore, a worthless whore. I'm just a set of holes. Use them, masturbate in me."

Finally, I screamed at the top of my voice "RAPE ME!!"

I came. I came hard. So...fucking...hard.

I lay there covered in sweat and shivering on the bed, breathing heavily, as if I'd just run a 100-meter race. The tension was released, and I was calm. Even though the worst was over, and I started to feel satisfied, it wasn't over. I still needed more.

I continued to touch myself, fingering my pussy and the dildo still taped inside. I couldn't stop masturbating. I had to keep going, but at least I could do so more calmly, now that I'd got over that first overwhelming need.

I think I came five more times before I finally let the wand fall from my fingers, finally satisfied. I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling as my breathing calmed down.

What had happened? What had I been involved in? What had I done? Was this the way I would control myself and my desires and needs?

I don't know, I don't know who I am anymore: Still, I was determined to do it by myself. Not involve anyone else... conveniently allowing myself to ignore how I'd just let one man shove a plug up my arse in public, and another use my face as though it were a cum-rag.

I took the dildo out of my pussy and slowly stood up. Took the weights off the nipples and staggered out to the toilet. Then I peed and took out the butt plug, I stood under the shower and washed myself for a long time.

I stood in front of the mirror looking at myself. There I was. A woman soon to be 30 years old and good looking. I was slim and fit with normal sized breasts. I think I even lost some weight during the last weeks. My wet light brown hair and green eyes. It was me, but yet it wasn't. I'd changed at a fundamental level. I guess any man would find me attractive and I could find love...but love wasn't what I was looking for. I'd become addicted to pure lust, the need for satisfaction, and rough, raw, hard, relentless sex. What had become of me? Could I control it?

When I woke up the next morning, I realized that it was Sunday and that it was time for me to pull myself together. I had been away from work for a week and on Monday I'd have to go back there. Now I had to put this nonsense aside and become as behaved and controlled as I'd been before all this started. Was it really just over a week ago? It felt like a year. But I could do this. After all, I was a controlled, competent, smart and successful woman.

The rest of Sunday I tried to take it easy, work out a bit, take a long run and relax. In other words, treat the day as a normal Sunday. And that's pretty much how the day went... if I ignore the fact that I also masturbated five times, whipped my butt and forced a big plug up my ass.

To my new self, I guess this had become my new normal. Most importantly to new me; I'd managed it myself! I didn't need anyone else. I was my own master, or rather mistress, of my own body and that filled me with a certain amount of inner satisfaction.

Monday morning.

Back to work after a week, a week of frustration, shame and a lot of sex. My body had begun to feel normal. The soreness after the gangrape had subsided. And the tattoo healed well but I still had a sterile pad on it. Now maybe it wasn't just for the healing. I was ashamed of the text:

ANYONE WHO READS THIS SHALL BE AWARE

THAT THIS IS JUST A WORTHLESS FUCK TOY.

A TOY CAN'T BE RAPED,

JUST USED AND ABUSED.

IT MUST BE PUNISHED IF IT CUMS.

TREAT THE TOY LIKE THE SET OF HOLES IT IS.

IT'S ONLY PURPOSE IS TO GIVE MEN PLEASURE.

THE TOY BELONGS TO ALL MEN AND

HAS NO WILL OF IT'S OWN.

It's hardly something you can just laugh off as a joke if someone were to see and read it.

My nipples also healed but it took longer. I had looked up a care regime on the internet: Daily disinfection, preferably several times a day, and move the rings so they don't get stuck. The same way as when you pierced your ears, just bigger rings, more tender flesh, and much more chance of accidently catching or snagging them on clothing or a towel... I didn't even consider removing them. I didn't know how it could be done. Presumably, it would involve going to someone to have them cut. That would be too embarrassing.