paid slut

I'm a paid slut. Yeah, get over it. A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do, I plan on traveling the world and this is the fastest way to do so.

Now, back to my story. We never get to know our client's name for confidential reasons. We also go by fake name for the same reason.

User 677 is my client and Beverly is my fake name. That's all you'll need to know.

User 677 – Male. 46.

      I like to dominate cute goth girls like you. I like to treat entertainers like the sluts and whores I’m paying you to be. I want to make you gag on my cock and stretch you with toys until your pussy is used up and dripping, juicy. I want anal play, deep and hard, and I want to slap your ass while I’m doing it. Another thing, high on my list, is that I want to punish those lovely big tits of yours.

      And all the while, I want you to be a good little girl and call me Sir.

      Duration – 5 hours.

      Proposal price – £1600.

     

      User 677 isn’t one for niceties, that much is obvious. He steps aside to let me pass, and eyes me up like I’m just a toy for his amusement. Nothing more.

      He’s right, I guess. I’m Beverlyhere – the goth girl who’s going to take his cock in her ass hard and rough, and call him Sir for five hours straight.

      Time to get in the zone.

      I shrug my coat off, draping it over the back of a chair so he can see me in my full glory. I give him a little curtsy, holding the ruffles of my tutu, and use the word of the night for the very first time.

      “Hello, Sir. Pleased to meet you.”

      “You, too. Your safe word is flag according to the system. Is that right?”

      “Yes, it is.”

      I left the red out of it when I set it up. No point going for overkill…

      His voice is deep enough to give credit to his appearance. I try to hide my trembles as the mountain of a man walks over to the mini bar at the far side of the room. He has a bottle of whisky already open with a shot glass in use, but takes out a fresh bottle of champagne from the fridge and holds it up for me.

      “Do you like champagne, Holly?”

      Fuck, how I love champagne, I just rarely get the chance to afford it.

      “Yes, Sir. I do.”

      He smirks. “If you promise to be a good girl, you can have some.”

      “I’d love that, Sir. I’ll be a very good girl, I promise.”

      I have goosebumps up my arms, I’m so fucking anxious, but there is no doubt about it – User 677 is making me really damn horny. I’ve never come close to fucking a guy like him.

      He’s not in a designer suit, just a tight hugging t-shirt, and a pair of decent black jeans, but that makes no odds. He oozes confidence.

      “Demonstrate how good a girl you are,” he says, and clicks his fingers towards the floor as though I’m a puppy in training. “Get down and crawl to me.”

      The carpet is plush under my knees and palms as I crawl across the room like he wants me to. I look up at the bulky tower of a man when I reach him, and he pops the champagne cork, but he doesn’t get a glass for me.

“Open your mouth,” he says, and holds the bottle, tipped ever so gently. He feeds me, giving me just one tiny mouthful at a time.

      It tastes delicious, and it feels fucking filthy to drink it like this.

      “Want some more?” he asks, and I nod, mouth still open. “You’d better say please then, hadn’t you? Mind your manners.”

      “Please, Sir. I’d love some more.”

      “Good girl. You’re learning. Don’t worry, I know your profile is new, Holly.”

      He gives me more champagne, just a trickle at a time, teasing, and I let my mouth fill right up before I swallow. I’m sure he can hear the fizz at the back of my throat.

      “That’s enough for now,” he says. “I don’t want a drunk little plaything. I want a sober one.”

      That’s a shame, because I’d love to down the whole bottle.

      He doesn’t speak as he loosens his belt and drops his jeans. My eyes must be like saucers, because the size of his cock fits in with the rest of him. He’s so tall he has to crouch to slap his dick against my tongue like a long, thick truncheon. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to fit him in my mouth, but he answers that question for me. His hand is so huge it practically covers the back of my head, and he uses it as leverage – sliding his beast of a cock right to the back of my throat.

      Fuck, I nearly throw up my champagne.

      User 677 uses my throat like I’m a toy, and I take everything I’m given. I have no chance to moan or whimper, just gargle and retch as he tilts up my head and thrusts deeper. I feel so cheap as he wraps my pigtails around his fists, still pumping into me as he barks out some new instructions.

      “Get your tits out, Holly. Now.”

      I struggle to loosen my bodice since I’m rocking so bad. Just as well he’s supporting me by my own fucking hair to enable me to do it. I let my tits free and hold them up for him.

      “That’s a good girl. Fucking beautiful.”

      He pulls his cock from my throat, and a big stream of spit spews right down my cleavage.

      “Rub it in,” he says, and I do. I rub my spit into my tits, focusing on my nipples.

      I’m still rubbing myself when User 677 gives me another dog click, gesturing over to the bed. I scrabble to my feet, dashing over there.

“On your back,” he tells me.

      I nod, still catching my breath from the face fucking, feeling tiny as he kneels up and over me. He mashes my tits in his hands, and I arch myself as best I can.

      “You’ve been a naughty girl, you know that?”

      I shake my head, wondering what the hell I’ve done wrong.

      “No, Sir.”

      “You didn’t thank me for letting you up here.”

      “Sorry, Sir. Thank you for letting me up here.”

      “It’s too late for apologies now.”

      He doesn’t take it easy with my tits as he punishes me. His slaps are brutal, with raw, hard strength. He pinches my nipples, and tugs and twists, and Jesus Christ – it’s like he’s been given lessons, doing it just the way I like it.

      He slaps me until my tits are bright pink and my nipples are swollen, then he lowers his head to suck at me and I can’t help myself. I take hold of his head and beg for more.

      “Yes, please, Sir. Please!”

      “Dirty bitch,” he says, and I’m grinning.

      Yes, I am a dirty bitch. How nice to be able to use the trait.

      I move easily for him when he shifts his attention down my body. I spread my legs, fully willing and ready for him to tug my panties to the side, but he doesn’t bother with that, just tears the lace and pulls them free. He runs his massive thumb right up my slit, and I’m dripping wet. Sopping. I don’t need any extra fantasies in my head this time. It’s all about him.

      He slides two fingers in, and it’s already tight for me. Another one in alongside them and I’m whimpering with a fuck, fuck, fuck. He won’t need any toys to stretch my pussy. His fingers will do it on their own. Seems he doesn’t share the sentiment, though.

      “You can play with your clit,” he says as he heads over to the bedside table. He has a big, fleshy dildo ready in the drawer. He slaps it against his palm as I watch him.

      “Thank you, Sir,” I say as I twirl my fingers around my sweet spot, panting as he holds the toy above me like a weapon.

      “Are you ready for this? I wasn’t joking in my proposal when I said I was going to use and stretch your pussy until you were all used up.”

      “Don’t worry. I’m horny, Sir.”

      “I can see that, you dirty bitch. I meant are you ready to get your cunt stretched? I don’t play easy.”

      I’ve been spoken to filthily before, but it’s so fucking different when he does it. The money makes no difference anymore, my clit is already sparking, ready to come.

      “I’m ready, Sir.”

      “Good girl.”