BDSM Library - Carlos\' Bitch

Carlos\' Bitch

Provided By: BDSM Library
www.bdsmlibrary.com



Synopsis: Good girl Tina was abducted and blackmailed by two thugs
There were usually not many cars at this time at night or in this part of town

Disclaimer:  This story is a work of fiction and includes adult situations and extreme acts of sexual depravity, including rape and torture.  It is intended for adults only.  If you are under the age of eighteen or, in some jurisdictions, twenty-one, do not continue past this point.  If you desire to read on, it is by your own choice and responsibility as a free adult in a free society.  All characters in this story are fictitious.  Any resemblance to real persons living or dead, is purely coincidental.  The author does not condone any nonconsensual sexual activity in the real world.  This is fantasy, not reality, and it should stay that way.

 

 

There were usually not many cars at this time at night or in this part of town. Fifty-fourth and Main and the eleven adjoining intersections belonged to King Z, the notorious 42-year old gangster that dealt in anything that was illegal. Everyone was afraid of him in this city – whites, blacks, Asians, Latinos. Here, on this intersection, the heart of King Z’s empire, Carlos and Juan were lurching behind a large dumpster in the alley of a gas station. They were supposed to be in this part of town, and they knew it. Not only were they from the wrong gang, but were also of the wrong race.

 

Yo, I told you coming here to collect was a wrong idea. That fool Gomes wasn’t even home,” whispered Juan. He told himself that if he died, it was all Carlos’ fault. For a measly $5g’s, they risked their bean eating ass. Carlos ignored his comments.

 

Shh…there’s a car coming,” the older of the two said. They had been waiting for the past hour for an unmarked car to pass by. That was there only way out. However, tonight, luck wasn’t on their side. Every car that came belonged to one of King Z’s people. Getting shot was a better way to go then what might transpire should Z know about them carjacking from his hood.

 

Unlike Juan, Carlos believed in patience. His belief finally paid off when a BMW rolled into gas station. A smile crept over his face. No one drives a fancy car like that here, and it was certainly too cheap for King Z. Whoever the driver was, the bitch was definitely lost.

 

 

 

It was 12 a.m. and Old Fuz was not amused. He had been slaving away all his life, hustling, dealing, and getting beaten by racist white cops. Now at sixty-five, he was stuck as cashier of some gas station. The automatic door chime rang, but he didn’t look up. Same shit, he thought, and flipped to the next page of the dirty magazine he was reading.

 

“Excuse me,” someone said, and Old Fuz’s ear perked a bit. It was a female voice, a pretty one at that, but more surprisingly was it was a white girl’s voice. He looked up and adjusted his glasses. Standing at the counter was a young girl in her early twenties. Her dirty blonde hair was tied back in a bun, revealing all her beautiful features. Old Fuz stood up. Not out of courtesy of course, but because he wanted to see the rest of her.

 

“Yes ma’am,” he said in feigned politeness.

 

“I’m lost,” she said. Of course you are you stupid bitch, Old Fuz thought. He scanned her with his eyes. Though dress conservatively, Old Fuz could still make out the body she had underneath. The blue blouse had the top three buttons undone probably from the heat. It was pretty hot lately. Her skirt hugged her slim waist and unfortunately for the old man, fell slightly above the knees. He was still able to make out part of her trim thigh and her nice taught calves that were slightly stretched by her heeled stilettos.

 

She continued to explain her situation but Old Fuz was only partially listening. In his mind, he was thinking of the things he would do to her if he was younger. He sighed inwardly. Alas, God was too cruel. So obligingly he gave her detailed instructions on how to get back onto the freeway. She thanked him warmly and turned to walk away.

 

Old Fuz stood dumbly staring at her back. She was perfect. The straight and long back indents slightly at the waist before curving outward into a set of nice firm buttock. He felt his penis getting erect. And she had her clothes on! Indeed, she was more attractive than the whores painted on pages of his magazine. He was certain. What Old Fuz didn’t know was that starting from tonight, she would be just like those women – a whore and a toy to the two men lurched no more than twenty feet away.

 

 

Tina Swanson was gorgeous. Not only that, she was smart. At twenty three, she was an engineering graduate from a prestigious university and had recently finished a one year MBA from another. She still had student loans to pay back, but with her current salary, that would be an easy task. Inconceivably, she was perfect and had almost everything, except luck.

 

When she was ten, she was orphaned. Parents died in a car accident, and she was under the custody of the state. However, that did not change her outlook on life. She was optimistic and tried even harder. While others with her ambition, smarts, and looks, would manipulate and step on others to climb the social ladder, she did just the opposite. She pulled and lifted others.

 

For this reason, she caught the eye of Derek Swanson, a young handsome self-made man. Soon they were madly in love and she became what she was – Tina Swanson. However, fate was cruel to her. In less than a year, Derek and his family suffered a similar end as her parents. All save Derek’s little nephew died in a plane crash. The four year old boy was saved from the trip by a last minute illness. Since then, it was hard for her but now things began to look better. She would have been home with the boy by now if not for this last minute work.

 

As luck would have it, she was called on to assess for new franchise location in underserved neighborhoods. Hence she was in a part of town she would never dare venture in. She quickly got into her car and was about to sigh a breath of relief when she felt something hard press against her ribs. Shhh…” cooed Carlos as he got out of the back seat as he climbed forward into the passenger’s side.

 

“Now that you’ve gotten directions, we should be able to get out,” said Juan in a thick Mexican accent.

 

 

“No,” said Carlos calmly.

 

“What you mean no?” asked Juan, annoyed.

 

“We’re turning here and going back. Gomes gotta be home by now,” said Carlos pensively. They made her turn the car around until it reached another debilitated old house. A beamer is pretty good for covert shit, thought Juan. The car’s engine was nice and quiet and with the headlights off, he felt like they were on some sort of military mission, like the movies. Carlos took the key from her and expertly knotted her hands to the steering wheel with the seatbelt. She was left, alone in the car.

 

Tina shook nervously and tried desperately to get out not knowing which was worse. To be held hostage by two bald-headed, tattooed Latino thugs or risked being raped or shot on the streets. Suddenly, she heard two loud shots. In an instant, her two captors ran full speed at the car. Carlos quickly inserted the key and shouted, “Drive!”

 

Juan in the back started shouting and scared her. “Wow! That’s some crazy shit. Woo-hoo….seeing that nigger Gomes all shot up. Got it on video too,” he said, producing his cell phone. With that, the black BMW sped down the road and onto the freeway.

 

“Pull over here,” commented Carlos. She did as told. It was another crummy neighborhood, but the streets were more lighted. He took the keys from her and made her get off. She thought they were going to let her go, but was disappointed when they pushed her toward the park.

 

“She’s a hot puta,” said Juan, licking his lips. His amigo did not say anything but from the look in his eyes, he concurred. “Let’s take off those clothes and see what a hot mama you are,” continued Juan. She offered them money, but they just shook their heads. Juan produced from his pocket the same cellphone. “Come on, bitch.” She refused.

 

Carlos walked up to her and slapped her. It was hard – a slap he often used on his bitches. She fell to the ground, and in an instant, Carlos was on her, ripping at her blouse, popping the button. Juan simply stood and recorded, laughing hysterically and spurring Carlos on. SLAP! SLAP SLAP SLAP! The brutal assault continued until Tina stopped struggling. The man pawed at her ample breasts and slowly kissed her. She was defeated, he thought. Suddenly, a sharp pain overtook his being and despite his size, he fell to the side. The girl who was seemingly lifeless kneed him.

 

Quickly, she made a grab at the car keys. Like a mad women she dashed for her car, hearing Carlos yelled in Spanish for Juan to give chase. Her heart raced. Fidgeting with the keys, she scratched the surrounding area to the keyhole before opening. Once inside, she made sure to lock the doors before turning on the ignition. She floored the gas and heard the screeching of her tires. In an instant, she was jolted back while the car lunged forward.

 

BAAAM!

 

Both Carlos and Juan stood in utter shock. The BMW had stopped and the gringa wide-eyed got out of her car. About ten feet from her lied a Hispanic teenager, with his body contorted in an impossible position. The bike he was on was bent in an equally distorted shape. Carlos shocked expression gradually shifted to one of joy. He looked at his companion who stared lustily at the blonde girl through the lens of his camera.

 

 

The reality of the situation did not fully register in Tina’s mind until after the two men drove her back to her house. She did not tell them, but they found her address on her driver’s license. It was now 2:30 a.m. Two and a half hours since she stopped at the gas-station, and a lot had transpired since. She had undoubtedly been witness to a murder, committed a murder herself, and now the men buried and wiped away almost all traces of the accident.

 

It was exactly that. An accident while she was running away from her pursuers. She would have called it in, but Carlos took away her purse along with her cell phone. They cleared away everything. They even took her car from her, to be later taken to a chop shop. “Report it stolen,” he advised her. Now, the accident was murder. Hit and run. The two other people to know were Juan and Carlos.

 

Not that Tina Swanson was afraid of prison even if it meant being wrongly accused. However, she could not bear to disappoint Derek, her late husband and his family who had been so kind to her. Who would care for little Alex? He was only four, and the thought of him growing up knowing she was a convicted felon, a murderer, and him living a life of an orphan was unbearable to her. She had suffered the same loneliness before. She could not let him do the same. Of course, the men did not know that. To them, she was another selfish white bitch. Prison is scary to a looker like her because she had a good life. They were sure of it when she pleaded with them not to go to the police.

 

They hadn’t intended to, not after all that work. They wanted to make her beg, but somehow her begging made them mad. All their lives, they were in and out of prison, but this bitch was too good for that. She would have to pay a dear price to have them keep such a dark secret.

 

 

Carlos car pulled up to a quaint little house in a suburban neighborhood, full of old retirees or young families. He got out and walked to the front door. Tina followed with Juan close behind. She opened the door and they forced their way inside.

 

SLAP! Tina fell over. “Partial payment for this,” Carlos said, grabbing his crotch. “Later you’ll kiss it to make it feel better.”

 

She got up, eyes welling. They pushed her into the living room. She sagged to the floor and just sat there as the men admired the house. It indeed has a woman’s touch. “Your kid? Bastard looks cute. Would be sad to go to some foster home, won’t you think?” She came back to reality and looked up at him. “Now, about our little secret,” Carlos reminded her.

 

“Please,” she said, “I don’t have much money, but I can give you a monthly payment.”

 

“Yea, that’s nice. But you’ve killed one of our own, a fucking Mexican kid. Think about how sad her mama would be. Heartless cunt,” he spat.

 

“What do you want then?” she asked, fearing the answer.

 

“You. Everything that is yours. Your house, car, money…and…your body. Those tits, mouth, cunt, ass. All are included,” smiled Juan.

 

“No, no..p-please…no,” she stammered.

 

Carlos went over to the phone, and immediately, she sprang at him. He backhanded her again. She fell, but crawled back to him and clutch onto his leg. “You win. Just please, don’t.”

 

“Think about that, a gringa whore at my feet,” laughed Carlos. Juan kicked her.

 

“Let’s see what you have to offer us,” Carlos said.

 

 

She stood in front of them naked. Her tattered clothes were on the floor. Juan had taken her DV cam and was in the process of recording her humiliation. Carlos couldn’t believe his luck. Before, the dim lighting had not given him a clear view of her. Now standing at five-five, shoulder length blonde hair, was a goddess. Her C cup breast lifted seductively with each sob. Her taut thighs and calves strained under the high heeled shoes they made her wear – her only article of “clothing.” The girl turned around, bent over. She then sat down, spread her long legs to reveal her sex. The lightly patched pubis, the inviting pink sex were all too erotic. Of course, all these poses were demanded by the men. She had to convince them that she was worth keeping.

 

“Crawl here,” the naked Carlos said, pointing at his feet. The girl did as told. “How you like Mexican cock?”

 

There was a brief silence, but that was enough to annoy him. He kicked her. “You can go confess, if you want. You do less time.”

 

Hearing those words, the tiny blonde quickly returned to her position. “I haven’t before, but I’m sure I’ll love it,” she said, blushing at those humiliating words.

 

“Well, put your mouth where your words are,” he said. Slowly, the girl lowered her head onto his thick penis. The stench was awful and she wanted to vomit. However, she was afraid of offending the men. She bobbed her head up and down his shaft, hoping to bring him to orgasm.

 

“How’s she?” asked Juan.

 

“Horrible,” said Carlos. “A slut like you should be a world class cocksucker. But you just suck.”

 

The men laughed. There were truths to his words. Tina Swanson had advanced through sheer talent. Those who treated her like a bimbo were soon won over by her personality and intelligence. Yet here she is now, a cocksucker to a thug.

 

Carlos did not mind however. She was not great, but she was very attractive. That was more than enough. He felt his nuts turning and he knew he was to cum soon. He yanked her head back and blasted her face. She tried to get away, but he shouted, “Hold still. From now on, I’m not going to hold your face and neither are the people you suck. But you will. Fucking whore.”

 

She immediately tried to wipe away the goo from her face, but a kick in the ribs stopped her. “Bitch!” yelled Juan, “Our seed not good enough for you?”

 

Carlos looked at her and softly said, “Do you know why I didn’t cum in your mouth?”

 

The girl whose face was now a mixture of semen and tears shook her head.

 

“You didn’t earn it. Right now, you’re only worthy of cum on your face. Your worthless mouth, cunt, and ass, isn’t. So from now on, when a man comes, you beg him to cum on your face.”

 

Defeated, the girl nodded. “I don’t think she got you,” said Juan.

 

“She’s a smart slut. I’m sure she got it. I don’t like to own a dumb slut,” Carlos said confidently. “Why won’t you repeat to me what you’ve learned tonight.

 

The command was obvious. She knew they wanted to humiliate her. That was part of the rape. The domination, sense of power, and control that these losers did not have was the reasons for them taking it out on her. She knew all that.

 

In a meek voice, she started, “I am not worthy of a man’s cum. So when a man cums, I-“

 

“Why would a man just cum,” asked Juan.

 

Carlos shrugged his shoulders and stared at Tina. She understood the cue.

 

“When a man cums, after having sex –“

 

“Fuck. Cunt fuck. Ass fuck. Face fuck,” said Carlos in an exaggerated vulgar tone.

 

“When a man cums, after fucking me…face FUCKING ME -” she said in frustration, “I take it on my face, hair, and body.”

 

“Why’s that?” interrogated Juan, continuing with this cruel game.

 

“Because I’m worthless. A worthless cunt, worthless mouth, worthless ass,” said the beautiful girl.

 

“Good. Now demonstrate what you know, on Juan. He’s been waiting all night,” said Carlos. Not even waiting for her to turn to him, Juan was already on her. He jammed his long penis cruelly into her mouth. “Open wide,” he ordered. The girl stretched her jaw as wide as she could so that the man could twirl his tool inside her mouth, feeling the upper wall of her mouth, hitting the floor that was carpeted by her soft pink tongue. He didn’t mind brushing up against her teeth. Finally, after what seems like eternity, he made her wrap her lips around his penis again, forming a tight vacuum. “Such it like you’re sucking a milkshake,” he advised the formerly innocent girl.

 

She was in hell, but he was in heaven. Carlos’ cum started to dry on her face, forming a yellowish crust, and her lips ache from endless sucking. She was forced to gently touch the underside of his penis with her tongue. Her sensitive taste buds picked up the sour and salted taste of her man. “Uhhaaahhh,” screamed Juan. With hands on his hips, he did not even have to touch his cock.

 

He felt Tina’s small hands hold his penis as she guided more man seed onto her face. “Say gracias, you ungrateful whore,” commented Carlos. So she thanked Juan and Carlos too. They asked her if she was happy, and she said yes. But she wasn’t smiling, and so for the next three hours, while they fuck her in various positions, she had a smile plastered to her cum stained face.

 

She had her slender legs wrapped around Carlos when she heard her cellphone ring. Glancing up at the clock on the wall, she saw it was 5:00. She panicked, and Carlos saw it. He slapped her tits, “Focus whore.”

 

“Please Sir,” she had learned his name by now but was prohibited from calling him nor Juan anything but Sir or Master. “Alex will be waking up in an hour. I can’t let him see me like this.”

 

Carlos smiled, “Then you better work your lazy cunt.” With that, he dismounted her and lied on the floor. “Each of us will cum three more times, then we’ll leave.”

 

Looking at the clock, she quickly moved toward her tormentor. Carlos moved back. “Please sir. I need your cock. Please give me your big manly cock,” she uttered those profane words. She wasted some more time begging before she was allowed to fuck herself on the vile penises of the two ugly and sadistic Mexican gangsters.

 

 

It was 5:50 a.m. when the last drop of semen hit her body. She was plastered everywhere. “This slut is very grateful,” she said, learning yet another way to degrade herself. Third person objective.

 

“I’m glad you like Mexican cum. You know what, since you like it so much, I’ll permit you to wear our cum. Sort of like perfume for white sluts. What you think?” suggested Carlos.

 

Teary eyed, she nodded and whispered a thank you.

 

“That’s a good slut. Now don’t you wash it off. I want you to remember and treasure my scent. I’ll be back tonight,” he said.

 

“Your slut awaits her stud,” replied Tina in mock enthusiasm. Another smile crept over Carlos face. He liked the possessive tense too. With that, the men waved and left.

 

Quickly, Tina ran into her bedroom to fish out a bathrobe to cover her body. Luckily, the cum on her face had dried, but she reeked of a fishy smell. “Auntie?” asked a little voice.

 

“Yes, I’m here,” replied Tina. She had a lot of stories to make up – not just for Alex but for why she won’t be at work today. To keep cum on her face and body was not going to get her a sick leave.

 

 

 

 

Sitting quietly in front her make-up mirror, Tina Swanson could not help but feel sorry for herself

Sitting quietly in front her make-up mirror, Tina Swanson could not help but feel sorry for herself. Her previous life, as hard as it was, was over. Now it would just be hell. In less than 24 hours, she had been completely destroyed. In the mirror, staring back at her was a blonde slut. Her hair was now neatly done up again. Lip glossed had been applied to her lips, giving it a suggestive shine. All of which would suggest a state of normalcy- an attractive girl making herself more attractive. Yet, the flaky semen on her face reminded her of her role in life – Carlos’ bitch. She was afraid of him, so much so that when he casually told her to keep his cum on her body, she did.

 

The entire day passed by as a blur. Carlos had generously came back to leave his beat up car for her so she can drive Alex home from school. He took all the cash in her wallet to catch a cab. When she took his car, he found a darker reason for his return. On the passenger’s seat was a black silk dress – flimsy and small, some lace undergarments, and an a pair of obscenely high heeled shoes. Attached to it was a piece of notebook paper with some chicken scratch on it. She had to read and reread to understand its humiliating content.

 

Hey Slut:

 

I found out why a slut like you can’t get enough cock. You have to show off your whore’s body. Tits, legs, and ass. Flash some cunt while you’re at it. I’m helping you out. Wear this tonight with the thongs and lace panties. And the streetwalker shoes. Remember to dolly up. If I don’t like it, you’re going to the big house and we’ll adopt Alex. Oh, these clothes cost $300. You’ll pay me back in full.

 

 

Carlos

ps. Hope you haven’t forgotten not to wash. We’ll be giving you another bath tonight.

 

 

A tear slipped passed her tightly closed eyes as she remembered what she had done to the only person she loved – little Alex. In order to avoid having him see her like this or worse, meet those men, she had crushed a slipping pill and powdered his food with it. She was alone, and so terribly scared.

 

 

The doorbell rang, and she sashayed her way to the door in her heels. There were no surprises on the other side. Carlos and Juan were standing there. Carlos the short stocky Mexican, and Juan was the slightly taller skinny one. Both were in the same thug outfit. Khaki pants sagging, oversized white T’s leaving their bear tattooed arms expose. In addition, the two of them shared the same welcoming smile. “Not happy to see us?” asked Carlos.

 

“Not at all sir,” replied Tina sounding foolish. The delinquent pair were just several years her junior, and yet she was constantly addressing them as her superior.

 

“Then how about a kiss. A deep sluttish one that you give to a man,” requested Carlos.

 

Obediently, the girl tipped toed and embraced, both orally and bodily, each of the men. “Hmmm,” cooed Carlos. Leaning over her, he sniffed her neck. “Smells like my nuts. That’s my bitch for sure.” The men shared a good laugh while the girl gave them an embarrassed smile. “Come on now,” her man said, holding her hand, “we’ve got a date. Time to get some thug love puta,” and led her into their car.

 

Juan was the driver this time around. After all, it was Carlos bitch. He was not jealous knowing his homeboy shares. In the back, Carlos had one hand around Tina’s shoulder and the other roaming her body. Her body was his- his playground. He loved how the silk felt. It was light and smooth. The design was magnificent as well. While the strap held the dress onto a woman’s body, it had a deep neckline. The material covered, but they fell short, not even to mid-thigh. There was where Carlos had his hand, between Tina Swanson’s tanned athletic thighs. Her face grimaced in pain. This was expected as Carlos pudgy fingers pinched her inner thighs even after she parted them for his inspection. He rubbed her sex through the thong and cruelly crushed her clit against her body. She let out a painful gasp but quickly transformed the pained expression to one of lust when Carlos stared at her. “How’s Alex?” he asked.

 

Tina understood the threat, and she told herself not to make the same mistake again. With renewed enthusiasm, she allowed Carlos to pinched and pawed her body. “Sit here and face me,” her master commanded. She did, draping one long leg after the other on either side of Carlos. He admired his choice of shoes. High heeled with the straps that keep it on her ankles. They won’t fall when they fuck her. He put his hands under her sex. “Fuck my finger.” As simple as that, Tina Swanson, young and sexy Tina Swanson, gyrated her crotched against the disgusting fingers of the man who’s semen still reeked from the pores of her body.

 

 

Inside Carlos run down home, Tina Swanson, pretty, white, and classy, was in complete contrast to her surrounding. A Hispanic teenager nervously stuck out her hand, “Nice to meet you,” he spoke in accented English.

 

Surprised by his politeness, she extended her own hand. “A pleasure.”

 

She learned that the young man was Jose, Carlos’ nephew. The teenager was in obvious shock as to how his uncle and Juan had brought home such a sexy girl. She was obviously not a prostitute. She was too clean and her eyes shone keenly. Yet she was dressed extremely provocatively. Sluttish was the only fitting word. Her dress was pretty much bedroom material.

 

“No need to be so polite,” Jose’s uncle said. “She’s a slut. My slut, and she’ll fuck you if she gets a chance.”

 

Tina glanced at the floor. The youth looked incredulously at the scene. His uncles control over the girl was absolute. “How you like to see her naked?” he asked.

 

“Si, quiero,” was the teenager’s response. He was surprised at his instinctive answer, and retroactively blushed, and too stared at the floor. When he finally had the courage to look up, the girl was naked except the heels. Juan laughed.

 

“See? Puta is a puta. Fucking can’t stand clothes no matter how little they wear,” the skinny man mocked.

 

“Bad news for you girl,” said Carlos. “You’re not getting much of man cock tonight. You’re going to repent.”

 

The girl looked up surprised. Before she could mutter a thing, the men led her down into a dark basement. They tied her hands behind her. Her palms faced one another as if in prayer or in pleading. The difference was it was behind her, painfully arching her shoulder and jutting out her breasts. Her hair was tied and lifted painfully back pulling her up onto tip toes.

 

“Please, what are you going to do?” begged Tina.

 

“Come on Jose, join us. You’re an hombre now,” urged Carlos.

 

The scene was already too much for the lad. He had already came in his pants. Seeing this, his Uncle took the soiled briefs and plastered the semen onto the girl’s face. “Lick the rest up,” he ordered.

 

The tied girl’s pink tongue lithely darted from her mouth and lapped hungrily at the boy’s jism. Tired and possibly bored by her lack of success, the man jammed it into her mouth. Juan produced some electric tape to which they taped her mouth shut. Tears began to well up again and streaked her face. Her legs trembled from standing on her toes.

 

The men released the belts from their pants. “This is for Jesus. The kid who died,” and began to whip her. Even Jose, oblivious to the girl’s evil fate, joined in. He aimed his blows at her calves, mesmerized by how taut they were. The shoes were something. Each man attacked the girl according to his fetish. Carlos aimed at her thighs. The back, the front, and even the interior by forcing the girl to participate in her own torture. Whenever she tried to close her legs, Carlos would stop the beating and repeat in a slow calm voice to tell her to open them. As the girl’s long legs parted, he would carefully aim a blow, first at her crotch, then at her inner thighs. Struggling to keep her instincts at bay, the girl would shift in her bonds.

 

For Juan, he was in tit heaven. Each blow aimed cruelly at her breasts. He liked how they jiggled and bounce with each stinging hit. Her back was not spared as if the men wanted to turn the white girl into a reddish pulp. Finally after an eternity, the men stopped. Carlos went over to a tool box and produced two alligator clips. Tina with her head tied back saw it and started to whimper. It was no use. He clipped them onto her tortured nipples, and the girl convulsed in her bonds. They waited for her to calm down.

 

Looking into her eyes, he told her that she was going to pack back the Mexican neighborhood for her sins. “You don’t know what he means?” asked Juan.

 

The girl shook her head gingerly. “You’re going to be a real cheap puta. $10 fuck slut. Cum bucket for man seeds,” continued the man. Tina shook her head more violently now. They cannot whore her. Rape was enough. Sharing her between them was enough. Now they wanted to whore her? This was too much.

 

Carlos, ignoring her resistance dragged out a large square box, with menacing looking wires. Slowly he attached them to her clamps. A dial was turned, and the bound blonde girl screamed, violently into Jose’s cum soaked briefs, almost choking on its contents.

 

She held out as best as she could, but after an hour of electrocution, the girl was resigned to her fate. It was a losing battle. They occupied all the key areas on the battlefield. Whether she assented to it or not was minor. She finally realized that. They were going to whore her anyway. If not, they can just invite people over to rape her. Was she going to say no thank you and leave? They had the tape and that meant her future and Alex’s. The act now was just to humiliate her. She had to be humiliated. So when the men removed the clamps from her tortured nipples which sent another whimper from her, she nodded her head like a crazed woman.

 

Carlos removed the tape from her mouth, and while she pushed the foul briefs from her mouth, she was released from her bounds. “What are you now?” quizzed Carlos.

 

“Tinnie’s a fucktoy. Carlo’s bitch. Mexican whore. Cumbucket,” answered the girl in the third person and with her new name. Tinnie was more childish, more degrading. She hoped that one of those adjectives would make the men happy. Was it enough? She saw Carlos playing with the clips, opening and closing them.

 

Scared, the girl crawled over to her owner. “Please, Tinnie’s good. Tinnie fucks well. Tinnie fuck for you sir. Fuck for money. Tinnie make you rich.”

 

Carlos shook her head. “No se,” he said in Spanish, and looked over to his nephew who had another hard on. He had another idea. Juan who was videotaping the whole thing smiled. “Come here Jose,” Carlos gestured. “Look into the camera and tell them how old you are.”

 

“Eighteen,” the youth said with his erect penis pointing back at the camera.

 

Carlos then walked over to the girl and whispered into her ears. Her eyes darted back and forth as if thinking of an alternative. Finally, the men patted her matted hair and walked up towards the stairs. Jose followed, but the girl crawled after him. Hugging his leg, she kept him. The men looked back, smiled, and left.

 

“Please sir,” she said to the boy. “Fuck me. Fuck me hard. Tinnie’s got a tight cunt. Put it here, in my warm cunt.” As she said those words, she laid face down, arching her back and spreading her legs, exposing her pussy.

 

Unable to hold himself anymore, Jose mounted her. Screaming in pain, the girl felt every painful thrust. She was still sore from last night. With this new intruder, she felt a new type of pain – that of a slut. Tina Swanson was now fucking in front a camera. The boy slapped her ass, and yanked her blonde locks painfully back. Arching her neck to ease the pain, she screamed, “Ooooh daddy…yeeaaa…ride this slut…ooohhhHH.”

 

An endless stream of tears rolled down her chin. No matter how you look, the youth who was punishing her and living out his adolescent fantasy on the perfect body of this white girl was the aggressor. No, he was not he rapist. She was. Tinnie the slut was raping the  adolescent, and all of it was documented on film. This was her gift to Carlos and Juan to further strengthen their absolute hold on her. Right now, she lifted her legs and rested them on the shoulders of this skinny youth. Her high heels still on her as he deeply penetrated her. She clenched her already tight pussy. This was her gift to Jose, her eighteen year old master.

 

He was about to cum. She felt his penis twitching. In an instant, the twenty three year old’s vagina was flooded by the semen of a boy five years her junior. Finally, she was worthy. Her formerly useless cunt had now served its purpose- to receive cum, just like the rest of her body. Cum was why she was alive and free. They cum in her, on her, and she would live to see Alex grow up. One day, she was sure, the men would be bored of her. Maybe that would be when her looks fade or when she died of some contracted disease, but in the near future, she would be theirs.

 

 

Carlos no longer had her walk around in his cum. She needed to work to support him. During the day, she went about her old job. It was at Carlos whim that she would work as his whore. Her wardrobe also changed. She no longer wore slacks or long pants. A slut’s asset must be on display. Being a leg man, Carlos had her wear skirts or shorts. Her neckline also plummeted. “A man’s gotta see some cleavage,” he told her.

 

She was however, given some privacy. Carlos had wanted to move in with her but she vehemently refused. She would not have him sully Alex, and being in the same house with this monster would surely damage and strip Alex of his innocence, like what Carlos had done to her. In return for that one freedom, she surrendered everything else. She found an apartment near where she lived for him. Not only that, she also found him work as office boy at her work. Carlos had insisted he wanted to go straight after meeting his bitch. At the same time, he wanted to keep an eye on his slut. Being the slut that she was, he told her, she was bound to be fucking around.

 

She had thought it ironic. She had to be the good girl for him, and yet here he was, sharing her. At parties or other gatherings, he would sometimes give permission to his friends to fuck her. She would be obliged to follow. He loved to show her off. Before, Tina Swanson rarely frequented clubs. Now she was a regular with her beau. Men everywhere envied the out of shape Mexican. Flat nosed, fat lips, and crude manners, he would have this hot blonde next to him. She would market herself as the tease, the way Carlos wanted her to. He wanted others to envy him back. She would gyrate her hips suggestively on the dance floor and men would rub up against her. If Carlos liked it, he would watch as they felt her up. Other times, he would glare at her, and his private whore, would be just that, his private whore. She would leave the dance floor, and sit on his lap and gyrate, rub, and kiss, only him.

 

Life for Carlos was getting better all the time. He lived in a nice apartment, furnished and paid for by Tinnie. He “worked,” but that was entertaining as well. His white bitch was like a display case of perfect feminine flesh, his fuck flesh. She wore the clothes he picked out.

 

Today, she was wearing her five inch heels with ankle straps. Her naked legs ran up, up, until they were seductively covered at mid-thigh by her skirt. Men in the office and on the streets wondered what lied further up, but only Carlos knew. A vibrator was lodged in her cunt, and he held the control. Her life was either normal or hell depending on his feelings. He also made it clear to the office that Tina was his girl. This embarrassed the girl even more since everyone could not believe she would choose such a man. During his coffee break, Tina would get her cum break, sucking him dry. Life was great.

 

Tina felt the buzzing in between her legs. She hunched over and looked around. There was Carlos, and she smiled back at him. She felt like a battery powered sex doll. After a full ten minutes, he turned it off. She went up to him and kissed him lightly on the cheeks.

 

“Goodbye Tina,” waved a coworker.

 

“Goodbye,” replied Tina. Carlos took her to the gym. She used to love working out, but not anymore. She didn’t like anything about her life anymore. She felt like a sex puppet. Carlos made her wear the most provocative sports wear and made her be receptive to all men’s advances. His theory was that sluts are always man hungry, but because she was his slut, she would have to have his permission. He made her fuck one or two of the old perverts there. The ones who thought they still have game and go there to lift weights and hit on women half their age. She had thought them disgusting, but now she fucked a few of them. Word has gotten around that she was quite the slut. Men ogled her as if thinking what she would do in bed. What had she done wrong to have Carlos hate her so?

 

On the way home to Carlos’ apartment, she finally said, in a weary tone, “Please sir, Tinnie is tired. She can’t take this anymore. Tinnie gave you most of her money. You can have the rest. Just please leave Tinnie alone.”

 

Carlos looked at her, and put his hands on her thigh, stroking gently, he said, “But I like you. You’re a fine bitch.”

 

She hated it when he referred to her like an object. “You’ve fucked Tinnie. Tinnie yours. Please, at least don’t make Tinnie fuck around.”

 

“Don’t like to fuck around?” pinching her already bruised thigh, he continued, “a whore lives to fuck. How you going to be my whore when you don’t like to fuck.”

 

“Please. I cannot…I just can’t…” she lapsed back into herself and sobbing.

 

“What about me? I am a man, I need a pussy from time to time.”

 

“You’ve had me. I’ll be yours. Just please, don’t…don’t make me…anymore….” Pleaded the girl.

 

Inwardly, Carlos was very pleased. The girl is breaking down. She’s spilling her guts to him. He wasn’t going to change his position, but he wanted to hear her suffering. So he continued the game, “Why not? What about Juan and Jose? My business…sometimes I need to have good relations with the locals, the cops. A quality cunt is the best gift.”

 

“T-t-that is okay,” the girl conceded. “I’ll be your private whore. I’ll fuck to get you power. I’ll fuck for your money. But please don’t make me just fuck.”

 

“So you don’t like fucking for no reason? Ah, comprendo,” Carlos said, slamming the steering wheel. “How long do you intend to be my private whore?” He looked at her.

 

She searched his eyes for some sympathy. Finding none, she lowered hers and whispered, “Forever. As long as you let me, I’ll be yours.”

 

The car stopped outside a construction site. There were three construction workers left, packing their supplies. Turning to his plaything, he said, “Listen bitch. I entertained your fucked up brain farts. It fucking annoys me. I own you. You fuck anything and everything I say. I point at a pole, and you best put your slimy pussy on it. I give you a dog, and you fuck it. I shit, and you fuck that too. You hear?”

 

She knew it was foolish to begin with, but she had hoped against hope to gain some concession. Seeing his adamant response, she just nodded. “Yes sir.”

 

“Now come with me,” said Carlos walking toward the three men.

 

 

Tim, Deon, and Bo were dead tired. Another day working overtime. Fucking life. All three were in their early forties. Twenty years in the business and nothing to show for it. They did not look forward to going home either. Their fat overweight wives were waiting for them and they knew that the wives would nag endlessly. Perhaps a drink would do some good. Drunk as hell when we get home, they shared that collective thought.

 

“Look,” Bo said, elbowing his two companions. Ahead, walking toward them was a short Mexican man, dressed in Khaki pants and a dress shirt. Following behind him was a blonde girl. As she passed under the interspersed lighting, the men caught sight of her beauty. She was a man’s fantasy. They probably want direction, thought the men.

 

“Hey,” greeted Carlos.

 

“Uh…what up?” said Deon.

 

“Say hi,” the man barked at his girl.

 

“Hi,” Tina said, knowing where this would lead to.

 

“So, what you guys think?” asked the Mexican.

 

The three workers looked quizzically at one another. “The girl,” added the short Hispanic man.

 

“She’s first class man. You’re a lucky man,” smiled Tim. Inwardly he wanted to know how such a girl was with such an ugly man. She looked educated, classy, and he was worse than they were. They were losers, and this man was scum.

 

“You think she good enough to be at TT’s?” asked the Mexican.

 

“Uh…sure,” said the man with a smirk on his face. TT’s was euphemism for titties. The best damn strip club in town. There the strippers do more than just strip.

 

“Well, I’m not too sure. She might not have enough spunk. What if I tell you guys, to help me out here?”

 

The men were more perplexed. What could they do to help?

 

“Try her out and let me know,” producing his business card, he gave it to each of the men. “She’s yours. Call me when you’re done. If she’s not good enough or obedient, just tell me. I’ll lend her to you for a week.”

 

With that, he pushed the girl into the men. Bo caught the tiny girl and couldn’t resist copping a cheap feel off her breasts. They were firm, real. The men looked at one another and back at the abandoned building. In an instant, the four figures disappeared into it.

 

 “Ummpphh…ummpphhh…ummppph…” moaned Tina. She was sandwiched between Bo and Deon. The men’s cock was in her mouth and cunt respectively. Her body dripped with sweat. Tim took another sip of beer and sat watching and admiring. On all fours, she arched her back in a sexy curvy S. Her firm round bottoms were palmed by Deon. Occasionally, he would squeeze them or slap them. Bo yelled, “Spank the whore!” He was lost in a cloud of lust. Every time the girl tried to scream, her throat would spasm eliciting waves of pleasure up his man-pole. Spurred by his co-worker, Deon hit her bare bottom. All three of the men could not believe their luck.

 

Yea, the girl was good. She was definitely A-grade pussy, Tim thought. He had fucked her previously while his compatriots went to buy the beer that he was drinking. But she was definitely not TT material. No, the girl was way too classy.

 

He grabbed for another beer and opened it. Walking over to the girl, he poured it over her naked body. All three men howled in animalistic ecstasy.

 

After four hours of raping, the men were all exhausted. Tina was even more exhausted, but she was not given the luxury of resting. Bo had come up with an idea to keep her “engine” running. He found a long metal rode and threw it at her. Currently, the tired girl was sucking the pole as if it was one of their penises. Licking the underside of the metal instrument, inserting it slowly into her mouth, encircling it with her tongue again, the show went on.

 

The men watched their private sex show continue while asking one another who that man was. They wondered whether he would charge them money. Occasionally, one of them would turn to the girl and give her a new command. Now it was Deon’s turn, “Titty fuck.”

 

The girl put the pole between her ample breasts and pushed it together. The pole using the ground as base, she moved her body up and down on the pole. This was her new low, and she stopped all thoughts. She just focused on fucking the metal pole, making the metallic instrument happy. “Suck its tip,” added Tim. Her tongue darted out and licked it.

 

“Carlos Menedez,” said Bo looking at the card. “Think I should give him a call. The girl was fun.”

 

“Wait,” said Tim. “Since he was so generous, ask him if we can keep her for the week.”

 

“What?” asked Deon. “Why would he?”

 

“Remember? He said, if she wasn’t good, we keep her for a week. For a cunt like that? I’ll take the fucking week off, a whole damn month if need be. She fucked and sucked me dried,” commented Tim.

 

Tina, still sucking the rod, was nervous. She knew what results the lie would bring to her. Carlos would definitely punish her. What about Alex? She panicked, and when the men called Carlos, even at 5 a.m. in the morning, he answered.

 

“She’s a good looking girl, bro. But looks is not everything. She’s feisty, almost skinned my dick,” lied Bo.

 

The dropping of the metal rod on the cement floor echoed through the building and so did a loud shrieking “NOOOOO!” from the girl.

 

The men looked at her, Bo kept nodding his head. “Uh huh. Yea…uh huh…sure.”

 

He then looked at the girl, and said, “Your pimp daddy says, he’ll call Nancy, your babysitter to take care of the little bastard. If you behave, that is. Otherwise, he’ll look after the kid himself so he won’t turn out into a slut boy, like the cunt slut of an aunt he has. He’ll settle everything at work as well.”

 

Tina fell silent. Bo returned to his conversation, “Yea…Yep, we’ll punish her. No problem. Thanks man. We owe you.” With that, he hung up.

 

The men high-fived one another. “Well slut, looks like we’re going to have a good time.”

 

 

 

Tina was now dressed again. The men had decided on what their live sex doll should wear. Being from the South, all three wanted to a real life Daisy Duke. Tina Swanson was their live fantasy. In short shorts, and a tight shirt which showed off her bosom, she sat next to Bo in his pickup. Tim and Deon had to return home to report to their wives. They were going to lie about an emergency project they had to take on. Bo currently was not on good terms with his wife and so he didn’t give a shit.

 

All bitches were the same. Using their fucking cunt, tits, and ass to suck a man dry of his life. Yea, this bitch will pay. Even though she complied with their every word, she knew they would punish her. They had to in order to make their lie believable. The truck turned off into a trailer park a few miles outside the city. Bo parked it out and led Tina to his trailer, a ways off from the others. While she walked, her heels made her swing her little butt and the men, stared at her. It seemed like this trailer park was all for unemployed, out of shaped men. The losers of society conglomerated here. Only sparsely did she saw a woman, but they didn’t look at her with sympathy. Instead, she saw contempt. They were fat and ugly. She was petite and pretty. Dressed as she was, the women denounced her with their eyes and each glare screamed, “SLUT!”

 

Once inside, Bo pointed to the floor. Instinctively, she fell to her knees- as a slut should. He took out some food and asked if she was hungry. She nodded and he threw a piece of ham onto the floor. She picked it up, but he slapped it away. “No hands.”

 

So knelt Tina Swanson on the floor of some dingy trailer, eating like a bitch from the floor.

 

 

 

Tina Swanson, a man’s fantasy, was now man’s fucktoy

Tina Swanson, a man’s fantasy, was now man’s fucktoy. She was exhausted. Aside from the little nap on her way to Bo’s trailer park, she had not have any rest. So the water, did her good. This was the first time she had a shower since the night. The running water helped cleared away some of the foul smell of human waste but did nothing to block the loud fart that Bo let out as he sat on the toilet. To Tina, that was her king, and the toilet was his throne. From there, he commanded his human fuck doll.

 

“Soap them tits.” She moved the bar of soap over her feminine flesh.

 

“Lift and lick them nips.” She mauled her own breasts and brought them up to her mouth. She tasted the bitterness of the soap.

 

“Make sure your whore’s cunt is clean.” She ran her hands between her thighs.

 

“Inside.” And she slid her fingers inside her sex. Never once did she think. She only acted. What purpose was her brain for? Idle thinking is a luxury. Thoughts will only hurt her because they shifted to another time when she was happy. Thoughts pained her because she could never act on them. Even prayers were useless. The men in her life were her lord. They decided when she ate, when she bathe, how she acted, and who, when, and how much she fucked.

 

When he finished, he flushed the toilet. Not bothering to wipe, he entered the tub with her. She looked up into his dull, brutish eyes. She could not recognize a shred of humanity in them. “Down.”

 

Like a dog, she went down until she was again on her knees. Bo turned around, spread her ass and pressed it right against her face. She tried to move back but her head was now against the wall. “Lick.”

 

As disgusting as it was, she knew this was the only way. She cleaned his shit with her pink tongue. “All the way in. Clean my shithole.” She caught the vomit and swallowed hard before penetrating the men’s hairy asshole.

 

Satisfied with her performance, Bo commanded her to clean him. The blonde girl took the soap and was about to soap his body when he caught her arms. No, that was not enough. She was to be his toilet paper, his soap. Today, Tina Swanson would learn many things. The first of which was to be more than a real life blow up doll. She had to work as a human soap.

 

She heavily soaped her body, especially her breasts and began to hug the men, caressing him with all the tenderness that she had as if he was her beloved Derek. Her nipples were raw from the pinching and gnawing but she rubbed them nonetheless down Bo’s hairy back. Her twin mounds scrubbed his hairy legs, up and up. His soapy hands wiped her face. She understood the meaning of that. With her face, she hugged his genitals. Side to side, and even as his pubic hair poked at her delicate skin, she continued. Next she used her tits.

 

By this time, Tim and Deon had come.

 

“Oh, there you are,” said Tim peeking in.

 

Unabashed, Bo pointed at the girl and said, “Teaching the bitch new tricks. You should try.”

 

Tim smiled as he started stripping. “I’ve been feeling for a shower.”

 

Throughout the course of the conversation, Tina did not lose her concentration. She was getting better at ignoring things. She knew that before the morning was over, she would have three more baths, and each of them would be just as horrible.

 

 

“Wow, didn’t know your old cow had this?” cried Deon as he picked up a flimsy red pair of lace panties and matching bra.

 

“I bought them just for the cunt,” said Tim.

 

Tina, wet and dripping stood in the doorway, unsure of what to do next. Her clothes were on the floor, but she had a feeling the men liked her naked. “Put them on,” said Tim tossing the undergarments to her.

 

The men were outside with the radio on when sweet little Tina walked outside in her high heels and underwear. This was all the men gave her. They hooted and cheered. She just stood there. Turning to a music station, the men told her to dance. She knew what type they wanted. Turning her back to them, she took one step, then two. She slightly parted one leg and rested on the other. As the music began, she waited for the right beat. Then turning around she put her arms above her head, and as she slid one arm down the other, she bent at the knees, moving her hips and bottom in a circular motion. The men clanked their beer bottles together. Judging from the bulge in their pants, they already liked what they saw.

 

She bent over. She tossed her hair. She got up and personal to each one of her masters. Resting one knee on Tim’s lap she bent over, lunged forward seductively almost kissing him. Withdrawing, she turned her back and wiggled her cute bottom again. Tim swatted it. A loud slap could be heard. It was demeaning, but she continued. One after the other, she gave them a show.

 

After forty minutes of dancing, her sweat soaked body glistened in the sun. The men admired her flat tone abdomen as she moved it, in and out, in a wavy motion. This was their real life lingerie model. Better yet, she fucks. Not daring to stop, the girl continued to dance. A few men who had seen the beauty earlier in the morning had ventured forth to Bo’s trailer, wanting to catch another glimpse of her. They were surprised to see her dancing in some very sexy undergarment. As word got hold, there was a small crowd of some fifteen men. All were older than the twenty four year old. They range from thirty something hicks to fifty year old alcoholics. Each of them was bitter about life but none wanted to do anything except hate and bemoan fate.

 

Seeing the attention their pet drew, Deon nudged Tim. A smirk appeared on the man’s face as he showed-off, “This is getting boring. Let’s see some tits.”

 

With that, the girl unclasped her bra. Not knowing what to do with it, she was about to toss it to one of them when Tim shook his head disapprovingly. He pointed at Bobby, the oldest in the group of onlookers. He was a balding man standing in the sun just to catch glimpse of this wild pussycat. He smiled showing a mouth full of crooked and tar stained teeth. “Crawl over there with the tit wear between your mouth and give to him.”

 

Hearing this, the old man named Bobby, turned around and smiled, as if he was picked to win the lottery. The girl dropped to her knees, and over the dirt and stony path, she crawled over to the man. He took her bra to his nose and took a sniff. A nice fruity scent filled his nostrils. Tina was about to get back up when Tim shouted, “Since when do bitches walk.”

 

She dropped back to her knees and crawled back, giving the men a view of her ass. Ten minutes later, she was back again amongst the crowd. This time, her lace panties hung from her mouth, and a skinny man with a large nose was the lucky recipient. Finally, she earned the right to stand. Her tanned body glistened and the five-five girl looked like a super model thanks to the extra five inches her heels gave her. Like a goddess, she stood, bare amongst the men. The only difference was she did not have the pride of a god, only the defeated look of a slave.

 

“Come here,” motioned Tim. When she was close enough, he whispered angrily, “The bra and panties cost me a small fortune you whore. I didn’t give you clothes so you can flirt with men.”

 

She looked down. “Don’t worry man. We can make the bitch work,” suggested Deon.

 

Tim looked wide-eyed. Deon continued, “Don’t you need a car wash? Have her wash it and wax it.”

 

Tim liked the idea and immediately set to have her put on another show. Though the girl was smiling the entire time while soaping her tips, her eyes every so slightly tightened as she pressed her sensitive flesh into the hot metal. It hurt and burned, but that was her fate. The men made her used her hair, her beautiful silky blonde hair to wash against the dirty SUV. That was degrading but at least it made sense. Her breasts served no purpose except it burned her and rubbed her sore, and that, was enjoyable to the men.

 

When night finally fell, the men drew lots to see who the girl would spend the night with. They could theoretically rape her again, but that was no longer fun. They all have their own fantasies to fulfill. Tim won and the other two men left to get drunk. Inside, Bo’s small trailer, Tim was staring at the blonde girl whose hair was tied into two pony tails. Her ass was red from his spanking. He had always wanted to spank a hot little slut daughter. Their age difference made this believable. He was in his early forties, almost twice her age. So tonight, he was Tina’s daddy. 

 

“You’ve been a bad girl,” chastised Tim.

 

The girl didn’t dare utter a word. “Bend over, spread your whore legs, and grab your ankles.”

He went over and smacked her buttocks. He liked the feeling of her tight firm ass meat. It bounced slightly with each forceful hit. Finally, he stripped down. He put his large cock near her anal entrance. Tina bit her lips. He place his rough hands on her hips and pushed her toward him. “Arrggh…daddy. Fuck me daddy,” shouted the girl

 

He smiled. The girl knew how to play along. “You slut. You want daddy’s cock don’t you?” he said as he reached under her and pinched her breast. He slammed long and hard into her ass.

 

“Yeaaaahhhh…daddy. I’ve been baa---aa—a-a-d,” Tina stuttered as the relentless pounding continue. He came and the cum leaked from her abused anus, mixing with a slight tinkling of blood. She turned around, and gingerly knelt down, keeping her legs spread, not only because that’s what a slut should do, but because her ass hurt. She took his cock into her mouth and sucked. After a few minutes of the blonde goddess’ oral attentions, the men came into her throat. The flood of jism spilled out and dribbled down her chin. He took out his cock and slapped her face a few times. Grabbing a fistful of hair, he wiped the remainder into it.

 

He sighed and got onto the small bed. His erection was back. The girl with cum dribbling squatted there. “Come to daddy,” he said and stroked his erection.

 

Looking up at the man, Tina responded. She squatted, heels and all over his cock. She slowly lowered herself until she completely surrounded his rod. Slowly, she gyrated her lips. It was so painful and that led her to bite her lips. Thinking it as a sign of pleasure, Tim thought that all women were the same. They needed a real man’s cock. He grabbed a handful of her tits and squeezed and pinched the sensitive nipples. The poor girl, despite the pain, continued to ride her man, never letting so much as an inch expose. Seeing the girl so quiet, he got more violent. He wanted to hear her sluttish voice. He wanted her to moan. So in rhythm with her slut’s cunt, Tim slapped her tits. First one way, then the other. SLAP SLAP SLAP. SLAP SLAP SLAP. In between, the slaps, Bo and Deon from the outside could hear Tina’s meek little voice screamed, “Oh daddy. Oh daddy.”

 

 

The week passed blissfully by for the men. At week’s end, each returned to their homes. Carlos came to pick up the girl from them and promised to set her to work at TT’s. They exchanged numbers so that Carlos could notify them of her opening act.

 

“So slut, how was that?”

 

“Tinnie missed her stud,” was the girl’s automatic response. She hugged to him, “I need you. Fuck me please.” She would say anything to avoid punishment.

 

Carlos reached over the golf compartment and produced the vibrator. Tina reached for it and inserted into her sore pussy. The man turned it up to medium. The young girl gasped but said nothing more. She was being punished.

 

Later that day, Carlos drove her around town. Each time he stopped and pointed at someone, she would approach the men and asked, “Sir, would you like to cum on my face.”

 

By day’s end, twenty or so men’s sperm was dried on her face even as the vibrator buzzed away. She knew her place. She was Carlos whore. Private whore and public whore. He says fuck and she’ll fuck. There was no other question but one, “How’s Alex?”

 

 

On the weekends, Tina stripped at TT’s. She sucked and fucked for Carlos. This helped him buy a new car and supported him, Juan, and even Jose’s lifestyle. Tina was popular, but Carlos made sure she was anonymous. They came up with a stage name for Tina. Fucktits. That was not a common stage name for strippers, but at TT’s, stripers were not women, not even the basest and cheapest of them. They were toys. There was Cumpet, Blackpuss, amongst the many strippers the establishment had. Now there was Fucktits.

 

In heavy makeup which did little to cheapen her or dull her beauty, Fucktits strutted her body for the pleasure of men. She was now on all fours, crawling, thrashing, and moving her bum in stimulated penetration. Over and over, her sex act repeated. Men threw money at her. $1, $5, $10, $20, even $100. She could be bought at any of those prices, depending on Carlos’ whim. Today, she was there, legs spread, moving seductively when she spotted someone she knew. It was Sandman. Michael Sandman. He was one of the VPs of the company she worked for. She would never expect the man to be here. He was nice to her, almost like a grandfather. Yet here he was, all fifty five years of him, glaring at her body like the rest.

 

Carlos too recognized Sandman. Going backstage, he walked over to Fucktits who was preparing her skimpy cheerleader outfit to strut around the club for customers. At TT’s, stripping was marketing. Fucking was the business. Carlos made sure she strutted by Sandman’s.

 

“Hi!” she said in an energetic voice.

 

Michael Sandman, or Mike, was surprised. The girl who he thought was Tina Swanson was now next to him. He looked at her in a short skirt that revealed her thong. Nervous, he stuttered, “H-hi.”

 

“I’m Fucktits,” said the girl, pointing at the brass necklace that hung above her cleavage. The man squinted his eyes to read it, “F-U-C-K-T-I-T-S.” Fucktits. Her name. He looked back up at the girl. Yes, she looked just like Tina. He felt his penis twitch.

 

“Yea?” the girl looked at him. She was a good actress now. She did not even flinched when the old man put a hand on her leg, gently squeezing and feeling. She just stood there smiling.

 

“You look like someone I know,” the old man said.

 

“Who?” she asked.

 

“A good girl. Innocent and smart. Not a slut like you,” he said casually.

 

She giggled a slut’s giggle. “You like Fucktits?”

 

The man looked at her. She turned a full three sixty.

 

“You fucking slut,” the man said.

 

Deep in the recesses of her mind, Tina cringed. She felt sad. The world she knew was not as innocent as she thought.

 

“Follow me,” her john said. Like a puppy, she followed her owner for the next hour or night. Mike walked to a booth and gave the man there five $100 – the max. The girl was his for the night. He walked out, and Tina Swanson, now Fucktits followed.

 

 

Inside the hotel room, old Mike sat on the bed while the girl stripped once again in front of him. “Tina?” he said.

 

There was a long silence before the girl said, “I’m Fucktits.”

 

“Tonight, you’re Tina. Tina Swanson,” said the old man.

 

“Sure,” the girl smiled.

 

“Suck me,” the man said.

 

She moved closer to his penis. There were age spots all over his body. His penis was slightly shriveled. It would take some effort on her part. Surprisingly, after fifteen minutes or so, his cock was alive and strong. Mike was very happy about his find. He didn’t even have to close his eyes to fantasize. The girl looked exactly like Tina Swanson.

 

He flipped the girl over on her side. He lifted her smooth long legs and fucked her. Each time, he made the girl talk dirty, and talk as Tina Swanson.

 

“Oh Mike…fuck me Mike.” The old man’s pudgy stomach slapped against the girl even before his pelvis did, making a constant rhythmic SLAP SLAP. SLAP SLAP.

 

For five hundred dollars, prime and proper Tina Swanson was his, and Michael Sandman fucked away.

 

 

Work was Tina’s refuge. Carlos had to call her Tina. He knew he needed her to work. Money was good even her side gig as a stripper and whore couldn’t compete. Plus she whored her body for chump change so he can blow on toys. Living expenses needed a real income.

 

Work also provided Tina with a connection to her old world. She was the same Tina. She spoke confidently except on days when Carlos turned on the vibrator. However, those were short and infrequent. Usually it was enough for him to know she had a vibrator in her and that if he wanted to, he could make her cum from twenty feet away. 

 

With the introduction of Michael Sandman into her sex life, things changed. The man looked at her more lustily. He was no longer the friendly, grand-fatherly mentor. He was the old, obese lecher. Mr. Sandman constantly stared at her, undoubtedly conjuring up sexual fantasies to act on Fucktits. She couldn’t escape thinking of what he would do to Fucktits – the other Tina.

 

Life back home was more or less normal. Alex was taken care off and knew nothing of her other life. She was allowed time off to take care of Alex. She hired a live in maid to perform some of her parental functions. Though the emotional bonds were irreplaceable, other chores were. More importantly though, her chores in Carlos apartment, three blocks down, were also irreplaceable.

 

Carlos seemed all but cleared from his life of thugging. He was office boy, pimp, and Tina’s master. He heard the door to his apartment open. Tina walked in still dressed. He knew in another minute, she would be in the nude. Walking to him, she fell into his arms. Tina Swanson, twenty four year old sales director by day, Carlos bitch by night. She massaged his crotch and sucked his ears, licking the wax. Tina didn’t want sex. She was constantly molested, but she knew that if she didn’t initiate and seduce him, she would be punished.

 

On the underside of her tits were small burn marks made from Carlos cigarette. The night before, she had serviced fifteen men. Her privates were sore. Any contact would feel like scrubbing skin against sandpaper. That did not suit Carlos well. He made her beg him to burn her tits. Finally, he assented while she dutifully lifted them and pointed at where he should place his cigarette. When it went out, she tried to blow it back to life. If not, she would light it back up and begin anew.

 

Carlos pushed her away. “Not me tonight, slut. I got a few friends from way back coming. We’re watching the game. Get dressed.”

 

At his words, she knew she would fuck any and all that would come. She went into the room and saw what he had picked out for his sex doll. A furry bikini top and matching underwear. Alongside the clothes was a dog collar and leash. The collar had her stagename, “Fucktits.” She put the ensemble on and walked back out. She sat next to her man, but Carlos grabbed her leash and tugged her forward.

 

Falling onto the ground, Carlos exclaimed, “A bitch does not sit on my sofa. You may clean my feet.”

 

Fucktits began by kissing her master’s foot. She the proceeded to licking and wetting his entire foot. She gently lifted them, one at a time. Each time, she let her tongue stick between the toes, penetrating them and cleaning them. Then she would run her tongue under the rough sole of his foot. If there were loose skin, she would lightly kiss and nibble at it. This was her job as Carlos’ bitch.

 

When his guests arrived, she greeted each of the man. They were new to her, but they seem to know her. Fucktits was famous. The men were all surprised that the stripper was Carlos’ girl. “My bitch,” he corrected. As he walked around the house, Tina, humiliatingly, crawled behind her owner, much to the dismay to his friends.

 

“I want a pet like that,” commented Loco, a scary looking Mexican with wild piercings all over his face.

 

“Can I pet her?” asked another.

 

“Sure,” Said Carlos. He was always generous with her body.

 

“So how you find the puta?” asked a curious Diablo, the muscular youth with 666 and a devil tattooed on his arm.

 

“A stray bitch. Begged me to keep her. So I feed her some Mexican cock.”

 

The men laughed. They began to question Carlos about his new life and wanted to see how obedient his pet was. “She’ll do anything,” he bragged.

 

The men feigned disbelief and made Carlos make her act out vulgar acts. They started with her repeating some of her acts on stage. A private showing for the Mexicans. She danced for them. Then as the men began to consume more alcohol, she was made to do more. It ended with her crawling after every man who needed to relieve himself. They reached the bathroom, and Carlos’ bitch would soon follow, on hands and knees. She would kneel in the shower and opened her mouth. They would feed their erect penis into her mouth. After a good sucking, they would piss right into it and she would drink.

 

When the game started, she crawled her way back to her owner’s feet. Carlos kicked her gently with his foot. By now, Tina knew what he wanted. She turned over and just lied there, looking up at him. He rested his foot on her breast, crushing them. Every now and then, he would move and massage her soft feminine tissue with his calloused feet. Heaven and hell, master and slave bitch.

 

 

“Ughh..fucking slut…fuck you…” Mike groaned with each angered thrust. Tina Swanson had grown distant, as if knowing his weekly escapades with Fucktits. So he let out his aggression on this whore. That’s what a whore is for. Through the ages, a whore was a receptacle for men’s cum and his aggression toward other women. In short, a whore was a punching bag, a doll, an object.

 

Fucktits just lied there and repeated her only lines for the night, “I’m sorry sir. Please forgive me.” In a mechanical voice, with each thrust, she would repeat those lines. Angrily, Mike gave the bitch’s well used cunt one last thrust and came into her. He collapsed onto the bitch, smelling her fragrance. The image of Tina and her walking around in the office annoyed him. She should be here, under him, apologizing. He gnarled and bit Fucktits on the neck.

 

Work the following week for Tina was pretty much normal. Mike was no where around and she was relief. He scared her a lot. The bitemark was still visible, and she had let her hair down to cover it. As fate would have it, Mike went to the same restaurant as Carlos and Tina. She ignored his stares and ate her food. “He won’t know a thing,” said Carlos. “He just wanted to let out some aggression, that’s all. Fucktits is doing him a favor. Giving him what he can’t have- Tina Swanson, my bitch. Anyway, I’m done. Finish up and meet me in the car.” Carlos got up and adjusted his crotch. For some reason, he always needed a good cock-sucking after lunch. Tina nodded and hurried. She knew he didn’t like to wait.

 

She hurried outside and a sudden gust of wind caught her by surprise. Her hair was blown back a little bit and she quickly adjusted it. Looking around to see if anyone saw, she wetted her “cocksucker’s lips” as Carlos named them and hurried to the car.

 

She was prepared to leave for the day when her phone rang. The voice surprised her. It was Mr. Sandman. “Tina, come to my office.”

 

Adjusting her hair, Tina knocked on Mike’s door. “Come in,” came a voice.

 

She entered. “Lock the door,” he said in a stern voice. She obeyed before even thinking. It was a habit now.

 

“Since when did Tina Swanson became a whore?” asked Mike.

 

She looked at him in feigned surprise. “Drop the act whore. That is what you are right?”

 

“I—I…” stammered the girl.

 

The man rose from his chair and walked behind the girl. “I saw the mark I gave that whore. Fucktits,” he brushed her hair aside as he said this. “No..shhh shhhh…don’t worry..shhh.”

 

Tina was afraid. She didn’t want to lose this job. This was the only part of her sanity and individualism left. He stroked her neck and slid his hands down the front of her blouse, massaging her tits. Fucktits. Tina wanted to cry.

 

Abruptly he stopped. Moving to the sofa he sat, crossing his leg. “I’m so disappointed Tina. I guest this job doesn’t pay enough huh?”

 

Tears now streamed freely down her face. “Please sir.”

 

“I’m sorry,” said the man, “It’s Fucktits. I got your name wrong.”

 

Tina felt extremely embarrassed. She had fucked the man but now with her identity shattered, she felt ashamed.

 

“Tell you what Tina, if you can convince me right now that you deserve the name Fucktits, then I’ll keep this between us.”

 

Tina looked at the man whom she had once deeply respected. He has already stripped down, exposing his flaccid penis. She let out a sigh and walked over to the couch where he was. She stripped off her top and knelt before his manhood. “Uh uh,” Mike said as he shook his finger disapprovingly at her. “Completely naked save the heels.”

 

Tina reached behind and unzipped her skirt, letting it fall. Then she slid her panties, stepping first one leg, then the other out of them. She resumed her initial position. She wetted her lips and started to let her spit drool down onto her C cup tits. They were not big compared to the other strippers, but they were real and it swelled nicely on her small frame. She kissed the man’s penis. First sensually on the side, then she slid it into her moist mouth, working furiously with her now trained tongue. He got hard. Slowly, she put the man’s penis between her love globes and slid them up and down. Opening her mouth and panting, just like a whore would she continued to drool more spit onto her tits. Lubrication helps his penis from rubbing her tits raw. After an eternity of titfucking her, Mike Sandman finally came, squirting his jism all over her face and of course, tits.

 

He quickly pulled up his pants and went back to his desk. “Finish eating the cum off your face before you leave,” he said without looking up from his desk.

 

The blonde girl sat on the floor, licking from her hands and spooning any residue sperm into her mouth. She gulped it down and dressed. She walked to the door, but Sandman’s voice halted her.

 

“Fucktits, I’ll see you this again this weekend.”

 

 

The boys at Westside High could not believe what Jose was telling them. The smoking hot blonde chic in a short summer dress was not going to be his date for prom. No way! They thought he was joking until she came up to Jose and gave him a kiss on the lips. Smiling, she asked, “Your friends?”

 

“Yea, but don’t mind them. Let’s go home. I need someone to suck my dick.”

 

This was Tina’s new job now that Carlos took off on a Cruise with his friends. All the tickets were paid for by Tina from selling her body. Now she was a boytoy- a sixteen year old’s boytoy. Ever since fucking her in his Uncle’s basement, Jose had wanted to get more action from the hot white girl. She was older than him, but that was how he liked it. College educated pussy. She was more than that of course. His uncle had made it specific that Tina was to take care of Jose for the next month or so. Hence, she was at his beckon.

 

Jose was staying in Carlos apartment. He basically trashed the place daily and the twenty four year would be his maid during the day. During the night, she warmed his bed as his sex slave. He always put the leash on her and cuffed her hands. Then he would fuck her endlessly. Even when he stopped, her mouth would be permanently sucking at his dick. She was not allowed rest.

 

Like his uncle, he wanted to show off. Who won’t if they had a blonde cumslave at their feet? She would drive him and his friends around town and he would parade her on his arms. It made her look uncomfortable because of their age difference.

 

When she performed on the weekend, Jose would make her get him and his friends in. She would dance for them, and after a night’s work whoring, she would spend the next day relieving each of the boys of their load.   

 

What’s more embarrassing for a woman in full bloom was to lose control and be dominated by an adolescent

What’s more embarrassing for a woman in full bloom was to lose control and be dominated by an adolescent. In contrast, there was nothing that could give a man a larger hard-on than for him, no matter how young, to have full control over a sexpot. For Jose Diaz and Tina Swanson, this situation existed. With her, he felt like all the other men that possessed such a beauty. His uncle, Juan, Sandman, Bo, Tim, and countless others, and regardless of the length of time, once they were in here, they tasted a piece of heaven. Jose, a mere boy, now shared that same feeling. He was invincible. Her whispering in his ears didn’t help bring him back to reality either.

 

“Ooohh daddy. That was good,” the bitch moaned.

 

The boy inexperienced did not know whether it was true or not. He smiled just the same. With a hand flicking at her clit, he had his pillow talk. “Fucktits.”

 

In between gasp, Fucktits answered, “Y---y—esss?”

 

“You know Mr. Dong? The dean?”

 

She remembered seeing the old Vietnamese man.

 

“Shor-rr-t…skinny…forti-----sh?”

 

“Yes. Tomorrow you go meet with him.”

 

“Whhh-y?”

 

“He wants to spank you.”

 

 

The next day, Tina Swanson, after spending her lunchtime between Sandman’s legs, took an early leave. School was out and she had to meet with the old Viet. “Come in,” said the Dean Dong.

 

He was a lot shorter in person. In her high heels, the blonde towered over him. He did not like that. “Do you know why you are here, Ms. Diaz?”

 

“I’m Ms. Swanson.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Oh, yea. Jose is my boyfriend’s nephew.”

 

“Well, either way. Jose has been caught distributing pornographic material in school Luckily I caught him before it was widespread. Otherwise, there might be drastic repercussions,” explained the little Vietnamese as he stared at the delicate features of the blonde.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

He took from a drawer some photos and DVDs. He tossed them onto the desk. They were pictures of her! Fucktits on stage. Fucktits fucking with her tits. Fucktits fucking. Fucktits sucking.

 

“Oh god!” muttered the blonde.

 

“Yes,” said Dong. “He’ll be expelled. You should tell your boyfriend, Jose’s uncle.”

 

Tina knew that she must do anything to prevent that. “Please, there must be...”

 

“Luckily,” interceded the man, “no one knows but me, Jose, and now you. He is a smart young man.” He said that as he look at her. “I understand you are a busy woman so let me be brief. I don’t have $500 for Fucktits, but I want to fuck her tits and everything else anyway.” He chuckled at his own perverse joke.

 

She stood there motionless for a second before snatching up the pictures and DVD. “The blue van in the back. Follow it,” he heard him say.

 

Forty minutes later, Fucktits was naked and on her knees. She had her hands clasp behind her back by her own accord. The little asian man was sitting on a chair in front of her brandishing a long thin bamboo. She wished desperately for him to fuck her tits, but he didn’t. At least, he didn’t yet. On her tits, lied three long welts. There was no uncertainty where that came from. He poked at her tits with the crude instrument, lifting them and then letting them fall. He liked how they bounced.

 

“Tsk tsk…your tits aren’t that big. And your lips,” he pushed his stick cruelly into her mouth, “and face, not so pretty. I’m not sure you’re worth it. Look here.” He ran the bamboo cane down into her sex and pushed it hard against her clit. He softly tapped it and said, “Whore’s cunt.”

 

He got up. Fucktits turned and followed him, scuffling after him on her knees. “Please sir. Punish this whore. Whip my tits. A whore’s cunt itches for the bamboo cane.”

 

She needed to hold his interest. The bamboo hurt. However, he remembered the alligator clips and the electricity. The man stopped allowing her to catch up. “Fine,” he said, pointing to a corner, “bring that here.”

 

Fucktits knee walked over there and brought back a square block three foot by three foot. It was composed of several rows of elongated pyramidal blocks with the sharp edges pointing up and the square base forming the base of the block. “Kneel on that,” he said.

 

She hesitated, but only a second. She knelt on it and felt the ragged edges pushing sharply into her knees and shins. The man returned with a 30 lb. dumb-bell. He placed it onto her thighs, and the girl let out a sharp scream. “You’ll not move.”

 

The white girl nodded. “Hands behind your head. Good. Your whorish tits needs punishment.”

 

The girl nodded. “Please. Whip them. They’re naughty. Sluttish,” the girl added.

 

“Count,” the man said as he sent the long rod against her well plump flesh.

”Oooo-nne….ttttwoooooooooo….” screamed the girl. For half an hr. she counted and screamed. The good thing about bamboo was that it was light. Her tits were red and covered with angry welts but the asian man barely broke a sweat. Finally, he had enough. He helped her remove the dumb bell and allowed her to get up. Her leg showed deep imprints from where she knelt. “Stand up.” The girl complied.

 

“Raised one leg up like so,” he said and demonstrated. “Like a bitch taking a piss. Right. Don’t you dare lower your leg.

 

She didn’t. He swung the bamboo into the air. The girl flinched a bit but she fought hard against the protective instinct. The asian man smiled. She was trained. The next swing was a real one. It connected with the right inner thigh and a long red welt appeared. She screamed. They always do.

 

He repeated and the girl struggled to keep her balance, especially in her heels. He worked around her thigh and down her calf. All the while the girl screamed, but kept her position. He ended the torture with a hit aimed at her cunt box. The last blow sent the girl to the floor. She rubbed her sex like a crazed slut. “Up!” the man said. She resumed her old position. “Switch legs.”

 

The girl did. He repeated the same torture and ended it in a similar way. Then he made her get up and lift her leg again. This time, he was going to give Fucktits a cunt whipping. He’ll punish her for being a tart for not being modest. A stripping cunt whore is loathsome. She corrupted.

 

Each time the bamboo made contact, the girl fell. He’ll make her get up and repeat. After ten times or so, the girl doubled over, clutching her sex and sobbed. She was now ripe. Her sex was undoubtedly sensitive. He grabbed her by her hair and threw her onto the floor. “Beg,” he said, as he kicked her thighs apart with his feet.

 

Wiping away her tears, the well trained whore, slowly spread her well beaten legs. Dong could see the red sex that somewhat resembled a pussy. It was now swollen. He gave her a funny face and said, “What an ugly cunt.”

 

“Please sir, fuck this worthless cunt.” She licked her hands and gingerly massaged it hoping to lubricate it before the inevitable rape. She knew she’ll need it.

 

Dong whipped at her pussy once more, hitting her hand. The girl really screamed this time as the pliable wood bent around her hand and licked her clit. The old Viet jammed his toe into her cunthole and foot fucked her. She yelped each time she felt his toes, nail and all, push against her abused sex. There was no need to pretend. She couldn’t. It hurt too much. “Don’t like the foot?” asked the man as he brandished his bamboo again.

 

The blonde girl quickly moved her hips in rhythm with the foot thrust and tried as best as she could to grunt seductively. “Whores can fuck anything huh? Want me to help you out and stuff my cock up that itchy cunt?” taunted the man.

 

“Yes. Anything. Whip me again. Anything, just give me your man cock,” begged the girl.

 

Dong smiled. Fucktits was a real pro. He dropped his pants and mounted her. She grunted louder. In pain or pleasure, he didn’t care. He has the whole night and he’ll fuck her raw. After tonight, she won’t be able to fuck again for awhile. He wanted the world to know what a man he was. This little cunt wasn’t woman enough. Her pussy could not take anymore after his. Like a dog in heat, he pumped into her battered sex. All the while, the blonde girl smiled through the tears.

 

 

 

Tina lied in bed next to Carlos. His hands gently ran over her body, paying particular attention to the bruises and slightly raised welts that have yet to disappear from her lovely body. “That Chinese guy did this?”

 

“Vietnamese. Yes,” Tina replied, still staring at the ceiling. She spread her legs a little and allowed Carlos to masturbate her. After a little while, he was bored and wiped her juices on the rest of the body. He slapped her tits, and Tina crawled between the sheets to find his cock. It was musky, but she got used to the smell.

 

“You know, while I was away, I did some thinking. A man can’t live with a puta all his life. And to be honest, I’m getting scared with all this STD shit spreading around.

 

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