Open for business

My first attempt at fiction:

Mastered and i are spending a night out on the town, all evening Mastered has casually and naturally called me “garbage” and “trash” when addressing me much the same way he calls me pig, just as he would use someone elses name. During lulls in regular conversation he will, out of the blue, point out that he now has me trained to perform acts paid hookers and crack whores wouldn’t do. These sudden attacks are like bolts of electricity straight to my cunt. One second I am talking about a movie I want to see and the next moment I am hearing that pigs don’t belong indoors watching movies, they should be rolling around in the garbage. Every time it happens I have to catch my breath, theres no point in trying to feign hurt feelings or pretend that I am offended-Mastered knows me and knows that while I may not agree with him my absolutely body does.
 

At one point Mastered starts speaking with another man at the bar-I cant hear anything they say and per my instructions when not being addressed by Mastered I sit with my hands in my lap, eyes cast down. After a while Mastered turns and leans close to my ear and starts speaking. Anytime at all that Mastered speaks to me I get weak, the timbre of his voice does something to me deep inside and if he speaks right into my ear it has such an effect on me that I can barely focus on what he is saying. So I am already dizzy with desire as I listen to him tell me that tonight I get to be the piece of trash pig slut I was born to be. He tells me to go out into the alley with all the other garbage and wait on my knees for this man to come to me. When I look at him, somewhat disbelieving, he just looks at me and asks “what are you?”.  There are so many answers to this question, so many litanies, pig, cockwhore, cunt, but the only thing that pops in my head tonight is trash so that is what I say. Mastered then says the thing I love to hear most, the thing that makes me purr “Good pig” and he actually taps me playfully on the ass and says “now go’. Reeling with desire, shame, excitement I go.
 

I quickly find myself kneeling in the alley, beside me is a smelly overflowing dumpster- I know the point that Mastered is making, that I am a nasty whore so willing to get fucked that I will do it anywhere and under the most foul circumstances, requires that I don’t try to escape my disgusting surroundings. The ground I am kneeling on is damp for reasons I don’t even want to think about. For all of the filth around me and all of the filth swirling in my head my cunt is dripping so that my thighs are wet, I can feel that I am getting wetter and wetter. The man from the bar approaches me, I am still looking down so all I see are his shoes as I hear the command “show me your tits”, ahhhh so banal, so predictable, but I am shaking as I pull the straps of my tank top down my arms to show my tits. I am very aware that there is a label on my chest, words I did not think much of earlier when Master wrote them across my tits, “Cum Dump”. Showing my label, and such an appropriate one at that, is humiliating and exhilarating-this is exactly where I want to be no matter what my brain is screaming at me. The man, seeing my label chuckles and steps closer to me, his foot going in-between my legs, kicking them open further. I scrape my knees on the dirty ground as I try to accommodate him.

 

 

With little fan fair he unzips his pants and pulls out his already hard cock, as soon as I see that I open my mouth and lean forward, without even realizing what I am doing, my body is on total auto pilot as my tongue swirls around this strangers cock. I taste his sweat, I taste that it has been a while since he showered and this seems right as well. I like the taste, well it is not so much that I like it but that it is what I want. I want to be the kind of whore that doesn’t miss a beat when that dirty taste hits her tongue. I want it to make me work harder. Any thing that would be disgusting to a normal woman I want to learn to love. After a minute or 2 I feel his hands grab my hair and he shoves his cock deep in my throat, I gag in response but try with all my might to relax and take it as he starts to fuck my face. While my mouth is assaulted by his cock my ears are assaulted by the noises I am making-the gagging, choking, slurping and sucking noises I cant control. Every time he pulls his cock out of my mouth strings of slobber run down my lips, as soon as i catch my breath his cock is in my mouth again- I have no technique, no style at this point – he is not getting a blow job from me he is just fucking a warm wet hole, I – me- am inconsequential.

He pulls his cock from my mouth but this time instead of just giving me a second to breathe he grabs me by the hair and pulls me to a standing position. I am breathing heavy, spit running down my face onto my tits blurring the words “cum dump”. He still has a handful of my hair causing me to lean towards him off balance. He turns me around and shoves me up against the side of the dumpster. I feel the grit and dirt on the side of the dumpster on my face, still sticky with spit, I feel my bare tits pressed against that nasty surface and I am just held there by his hand twisting in my hair, pressing me in place. “Pull up your skirt cunt”. I pull up my skirt, now twisting around my waist along with my top. If there is a way to feel more naked than actually being naked it is this-to have your clothes on but they are totally useless, sloppily pushed out of the way, twisted and awkward. A skirt hiked showing off your ass is one thing but your top pushed down and hanging uselessly and your skirt bunched unflatteringly at your waist is something all together different. It highlights your nakedness, highlights your awkwardness. “ Now spread your ass and show me this pighole I am supposed to fuck” he says. Physically I can do this, since he still has my face and chest pinned against the dumpster my arms are free to reach around and spread my ass for him, but this is the hard moment, when you know its all over. Especially for a pig like me-my asshole shows what I am, there is no mistake where I am meant to be fucked, my asshole is open and ready at all times. But I back up a tiny bit grab my ass and open myself up to this stranger. And he does......nothing!  Lots of men, when confronted with a hole to fuck will do so rapidly.  That makes things easier, then i know they aren’t really thinking, probably not really even seeing me. But that pause to look, to really really see this degraded bitch - that is hard to take. It seems like i am standing there for an hour bent over holding myself open, face and tits pinned to the dumpster.

The tension finally explodes from me in the form of a long moan of pure shame and humiliation and NEED. The man laughs and asks me "you like this don't you pig? What a piece of fucking garbage. You are right where you belong.", he pushes my face back and forth on the dumpster side and yells at me to answer. Once the word "Yes" is ripped from me i cant stop saying it. Over and over i am saying yes, i am still saying yes as his cock slide easily and deeply into my ass. There is always a moment when a man starts fucking my ass where i can tell they are shocked by how easily they can use that hole, years of training by regular women have taught them to go slow, to be careful. It takes them a minute to adjust to the fact they are NOT fucking a woman, that they are fucking a pig.  When they do realize it is okay to fuck me how ever they want they seem to go at it even harder, slamming their cock deep in me fast and hard. He is no different, after he takes his hand from my hair, he grabs my hips and pulls my body to him every time he thrusts. i am bent over more fully now, face close to a bag of trash. The word yes still tumbling out of my mouth with every thrust. The man is spewing hateful words, calling me trash, a pig, worthless and disgusting - and the word yes is still coming out of my mouth over and over, agreeing with every word he says. i am lost in my degradation, completely outside of myself. Concentrating on taking this cock as deep as i can, on serving my purpose-taking his cum deep deep deep inside me. I feel him speed up, he is hurting me with the pounding now but i try so hard to take it and just be a hole, a receptacle and finally i hear that moan, feel him shoot his cum in me, feel that pause, the moment i wait for to validate my existence: i feel his cum inside me.  After a moment i feel him pull out, feel cum begin running from my ass. i quickly turn and drop to my knees again and begin to clean his cock.  When he feels i have done an adequate job he just pushes me off of him. i lose my balance and wind up sitting awkwardly on the ground. He puts his cock back in his pants and walks towards me, sitting amidst the trash.  i have a flash that maybe he is going to help me up but when he gets close enough to do so and i look up expectantly, i instead see him purse his lips and a split second later i feel his spit hit my face. i am not shocked, how could i be, of course that is what he was going to do-this is what i should learn to expect. i just sit there waiting for him to leave so i can get myself back together and go find Mastered. But as a final insult i see a couple of crumpled dollar bills hit the ground in front of me, " Go buy your Master a drink on me".  i am crawling around, clothes still bunched at my waist, picking up the dollar bills as i whisper "yes Sir", i don't know that he even hears me as he walks away.

Now that i am alone i stand up and try to get my self together, pull down my skirt, pull up my top, brush off my knees and legs-there is some dirt i am going to have to wash off but if no one looks too close i think i will be fine.  I wipe his spit from my face, try to brush the grime from the dumpster off and wipe under my eyes as i imagine my makeup has run. When i think i look at least passable. i walk back into the bar and sit next to Mastered. i feel him looking me up and down as i sit down but i cant look at him. Instead i hand him the money and tell him what the man said. He flags down a bartender who comes over to see what he wants. When the bartender starts to speak i hear a weird tone in his voice, i cant look at him (as i not allowed) but i hear something in his voice. He takes Masters order but then leans in and says " i am really sorry but she cant stay in here, if she didn't look like such a mess i could ignore it but we all saw what happened, what she is and...well..look at her. i am really sorry".  Mastered just laughs and says "not a problem i totally understand. "  He turns to me and tells me to go wait out by the car. i am mortified, happy that i cant make eye contact with anyone as i walk out of the bar-i must be more of a mess than i thought and i just want to get out!!  I feel, real or imagined, everyone watching me, i hear male laughter, i feel like nothing as i escape the bar.  I almost run to the car but when i get there i realize, as the last indignity of the night that i don't have the car keys.  i lean against the car, panting and crying. i slide down the side until i am sitting on the ground and do the only thing i can: wait for my Master to finish his beer.