Alley Tales
by Persephone
A series of explicit micro-stories for the dirty-minded yet literate man-of-the-world.
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Name, places, things...all your major nouns...are made up. If you think any of this sounds like your life (or your wife) you are probably a lucky bastard and should not be raining on anyone's parade. No animals or plant life were harmed in the creation of this digital wet spot.
The ideas and notions contained within are meant for entertainment purposes and to spark thought and debate. It should in no way be construed that the publisher, seller or retail outlet endorses or encourages the behavior described within.
Cover photo property of Persephone, Copyright 2010.
All rights reserved. Don't be a dick.
Copyright 2010 by Persephone
~~~~~
Chapter 1: Into the Alley
~~~~~
I remember the first time I saw the dark suited man come out of the darkened alley between the adult bookstore and the bar known as The Harp. I had been sitting in the window of the coffee shop across the street after my Fantastical Writing for the Modern Age class.
“Remember ladies and gentlemen. The reader is intelligent! Do not insult them with vulgar descriptions of sex and violence. You will only alienate your reader.” Professor McGill had told us that evening. Dried up old clam wouldn't know how to describe a good fuck if she had to.
I scrolled though was to be my latest submission to The Night Guard, a monthly erotic e-zine. I was trying to think of a new way to describe the act of deep-throating a kielbasa when I caught movement across the way.
At first there was nothing. Just a darker shadow moving in the darkness. Then he emerged into the red glow of the adult book store's neon lights. He was only about 5 foot 7 but his shoulders were broad. He wore a suit of dark gray and carried a leather messenger bag by the strap. His sandy hair was tousled and just long enough to move in the breeze.
I crossed my legs tightly and wondered what kneeling before a man like that would be like. Would he be gentle or rough? Would he slowly slip between my lips like a lover or would he fuck my mouth like my track coach once had. Gripping my head like it was my body and driving into me. I knew which I would prefer.
Each night I sat in the coffee shop window after class writing good-girl stories for Professor McGill and bad-girl stories to pay my rent. The law says I can't fuck for money so I might as well go with my second favorite thing. Each night my dark suited stranger would come out of the alley, turn to his right and walk on past the dives and abandoned shops and up towards the condos perched at the top of Penn's Hill.
One night as I sat wondering if the guy with the double latte behind me was ever going to finish reading over my shoulder I glanced up to see him standing at the entrance of the alley. He was staring right at me. My heart jumped and a smile, no, a smirk crept across his face. He turned to the right as usual and headed home.
“Woah” I said out loud.
Latte-boy behind me said “Yeah, you write awesome. You want to go see a movie or something?”
I was too wrapped up in this strange man to want to go one a date, even in the dark. I just sucked him off in the men's room instead.
*******
It took me longer to decide what to wear than it did to make the decision to go out and meet my dark suited stranger. I settled on a white blouse and black pleated skirt that just reached my knee. High black boots made it “studious night school girl meets studious night school girl who will suck your dick”. I left my long black hair down and loaded up on my lip gloss.
After class I waited for him to appear at the end of the alley. When I heard him coming I started in and turned sideways as he came past. As he slid by I let my hand graze the front of his woolen suit pants. They felt thick and expensive. So did he. I looked right into his eyes and prayed he would see how badly I needed him to follow me. How vulnerable and unprotected I would be in the dark back streets in this part of town. He saw...and he followed.
As I got to the end of the alley the I saw a man closing the lid of the large green dumpster to my right. It had a chain link enclosure and rattled as he shut the gate. He wore a short apron around his waist and gave e a quick nod as he went back into the bar. He left the door open.
I felt the dark man's hand on my arm. It closed tight and held me in place. My heart picked up its pace and I turned to face him. He asked me if I knew how dangerous it was to be back here at this time of night. "Why? What happens back here?" I asked him. He leaned in close, took my school bag from me and told me he were just about to show me.
He pushed me against the cold brick building and dragged my face up towards him. He kissed me roughly with a mouth that tasted like tobacco. His tongue pushed between my lips and forced my mouth open. I gasped as I felt him dig his fingers into my breast and tear my blouse aside. Buttons rolled away and my nipples hardened in the cold air.
"Now" he said, moving me up against the chain link fence, "Here is something that happens back here". He grabbed the back of my hair and pulled my down in front of him. Cold links pressed against my back as I got his swollen dick out of his pants. It was hot going into my mouth and slid smoothly between my lips. When I moaned he tightened his grip on me.
“I knew you were a slut when I saw you waiting for me here. You are here for me to have.” he said sinking deeper into me.
I tried to pull back and take a breath but he moaned, wrapped his hands in my waist length hair and pulled hard. He slid his cock further down my throat with every thrust. The chain link rattled and clanked behind us. I could see the guy from the bar looking at us though the doorway but I did not care. I wanted him to see this stranger taking me hard. I wanted him to want to take me hard. I saw him free his own cock under his apron and stroke as he watched.
I choked as the stranger's dick slid to the back of my throat and stopped.
“Only a good whore can hold it in her throat. You like that? You like being full of my cock?”
The world began to gray. He pulled out just long enough for me to breath and drove forward again. My hair was a leash he used to control me. My mouth had become nothing but a pussy for him. I held on to the fence and let him fuck me. Just like my track coach. God how I love being fucked like this.
Again and again he fucked my mouth, grunting and spewing "fuck" and "slut" and “take it” over and over. I did not think I could handle any more. His thrusts got shorter and faster. Suddenly he pulled away from me and a hot thick load washed over my tits and down into my ruined blouse. I held onto the fence gasping for breath as he rubbed his juice into my skin and into my clothes. My own juices ran down my thighs and between my dirty knees.
I was ready. Ready for him to finger-fuck me or eat me out. Anything to make me cum. I wanted him to make me finger myself for him right there. One touch and I would have climbed to orgasm. I turned and grasped the fence, bending over and presenting myself to him. I closed my eyes and waited to be released.
Instead, he pulled me up by my arm, handed me my bag and lead me to the alleyway. He stood behind me and whispered into my ear.
"Go home", he said, "just like this. Don't wash up. Don't fix your blouse. Don't get the cum out of your hair. Don't get yourself off. Go home and show them what a whore you are. Tell them you blew a strange man in an alley and let a fucking bartender watch. If you have a man at home tell him you taste like my dick now."
I did.
~~~~~
Chapter 2: Slipping a Girl a Mickey...
~~~~~
Mickey. Mickey tends bar in a little place on Penn's Hill. It backs up to dirty little alley...a place where all sorts of things lurk...and moan...in the night. This particular night, just as he was closing up the front, one of the lurkers (and coincidentally a moaner) slipped in through the back service door. That would have been me.
I watched him lock up the front door and start over to the bar. He had rolled up the sleeves of his blue cotton shirt which revealed a long meandering tattoo running the length of his forearm. His dark hair was flecked with gray at the temples.
"We are closed. You need to go." he said, not even looking up from the rags he was wetting in the sink.
"Come on Mickey" I said "I just want one drink."
"Looks like you've a had a couple already" he replied, watching me sway slightly in the doorway. He shook his head and opened a beer for each of us. I perched on one of the bar-stools and watched him ring out the rags. His arms were strong from lifting cases of booze for the last 15 years.
"Hey Mickey? Wanna have some fun?"
His eyes roamed over my little outfit that just covered my curves as he moved around the bar and out to the booths. He brushed past and said "I have work to do".
He started wiping down the tables. I sat down on one and crossed my legs, dangling my little red peep-toe shoe. I could feel the spilled beer and ashes and other filth from a night of drunken men. My ass was bare beneath my denim skirt. It was as if all their hands were groping at me. They left their smell on the surfaces and in the air. Sweat and testosterone mixed with alcohol. Mickey finished the first table and stood in front of me. He let out a small sigh. I pressed my arms together and gave him a look down the top of my shirt.
"Mickey. You work 18 hours a day. You put your whole life into this bar and it's not even yours. If your asshole of a brother actually worked in his own bar rather than using it store drugs and to get laid, YOU could relax a bit. Don't you ever feel like cutting loose in here? Defiling it a little?" I ran my hand over the fly of his jeans. He was already swelling and he moaned lightly as I massaged him and started to unzip him. "Or are you too scared Jimmy will come in?"
“FUCK YOU!” Mickey eyes flared as he grabbed my knees and spun me so my back was to him. He grasped me around the throat and pulled me back so my head fell over the edge of the table. I grabbed either side of the table as his cock pressed against my lips and slid in slowly. "Oh...fuck" he groaned as I moved my tongue over him. I felt the damp scum from the table on my back and the vice grip of his hands on my tits. My hips began to rock.
I straightened my throat and began to take him deeper into me. His left hand settled on my neck and slowly gripped and released...gripped and released...in perfect rhythm with his thrust. I felt my hips begin to rise up and grind against the air. Faster he pushed against the back of my throat. "Oh, god you are filthy" he cried as he fucked my mouth.
Without warning he yanked his thick cock out of my mouth and dragged me off the table. "You should go. This is insane...not three nights ago I saw you out back with some piece of shit corporate type in a suit. Did you even know his name? What's the matter with you?"
"What's the matter with me? Not a damn thing! I'm not afraid of my own brother. I'm not afraid to have fun when I want to and where I want to. And I did not see you complaining while you were jerking off to me and the guy with the suit. I'm not afraid of getting dirty. I'm not afraid of strange men in alleys...and I'm certainly not afraid of you!"
Micky gnashed his teeth. "Shut the fuck up! You have no idea what you are talking about. I'm not afraid of my brother...but you sure as hell better get afraid of me."
I ran to the stairwell which led down to the store room and office. The smell of dust and 50 years of wooden packing crates drifted up. "Aw, Micky...you're nothing to be afraid of...you could not even bring yourself to cum for fear your brother might not like it. Chicken shit." I laughed a little as I descended the stairs.
The basement storage area was a maze of crates, unused tables and chairs and the occasional white powdery "merchandise" Jimmy would store there while he waited for a buyer. I made my way across the cement floor towards the caged in area at the back. The ancient link fencing enclosed an office consisting of a desk, a chair and a PC that had not been impressive in 10 years.
There was the sound of breaking glass behind me. I swung around to see Mickey standing beside a open crate. A smashed bottle of Grey Goose vodka sparkled on the floor. Mickey held the edge of the case containing 5 more bottles. It came raining down in an avalanche of glass and alcohol. He looked down and shook his head.
"Damn, that's almost a two hundred dollars worth of booze" He looked up at me, "someone is going to have to pay for that."
"Mickey, what the hell are you talking about? I'm not paying for anything."
"Really? How I see it is you came stumbling in here looking to get laid. When I turned you down you got pissed and ran down here and dragged down the first open crate you found looking to steal some booze. Jimmy won't like that at all."
Mickey started freeing his belt as he walked towards me. He never looked away and never raised his voice. "On the other hand...it might have been some fucking crack-head that I chased out of here."
He grabbed my wrists and held them high in front of me. "So, how is it going to be? Do you want to pay Jimmy...or me?"
"Mick" I whispered, "you know I don't have any money. Don't do this..." I never got to finish my sentence. Micky wrapped his belt neatly around my wrists and drew the end through the buckle with a snap. I tried to protest and pull back as he dragged me towards the caged area. Mickey pulled me close to him, placed his face up against mine and said "You should have left when you had the chance".
He shoved me over to a huge discarded wooden crate that had been pushed up against the chain link. Mickey slid the end of the belt through a link and back towards him. With a sharp pull on the belt I was stretched forward over the top of the crate, my feet barely touching the ground. He continued the loop the end of the belt around so that it would not slip free. He turned and walked behind me.
I struggled against the restraint for a moment or two. The front of my dress was stuck on the rough wooden box and I could feel the back riding up. I was exposed and the more I tried to writhe and wiggle the more open and accessible I became.
"Please" I whimpered "this is too much, Mickey!"
Before I could protest again Mickey grabbed me by my hips and slid his cock in to the hilt. I gasped at the sudden violation, threw my head back and screamed. Mickey grunted and growled and he continued to pound into me. "Scream if you want, we are 10 feet below ground in a cement room." he said as he lunged his hand into my hair.
Each stroke built a wall of heat in me. I could feel the walls of my pussy clench as he drove in, making myself tighter, making him drive harder. He goaded me on.
"God, you psycho little bitch."
"Take it now...you fucking deserve to squirm on my cock."
"Who's afraid now? Huh? Are you afraid of me now? Fucking say it!"
"Yes! God yes I am!" I screamed as wave after wave of orgasm crashed through me. “God Mickey fuck me more!”
Mickey changed his angle and began pushing up with every thrust, impaling me and pushing my hips into the air. The crate began to rock under his force.
“So fucking wet” he said. “Lets not waste it”.
Mickey slid the end of his slick cock up to my tiny brown asshole. He slipped and teased over and around it occasionally dipping back into my pussy to lube himself up. I moaned and whimpered as little shivers ran over me. Finally, he leaned forward and said “This may be a little uncomfortable.”
He slid his full length into my ass. I writhed and screamed as he slid though my anus filling me with meat. I relaxed some to accommodate all of him. He changed pace and slid in maddeningly slow. When he slowly pulled out he left me almost empty until I was impaled again.
“Oh fuuuck” he groaned. “You fucking whore. Take it in the ass. Keep screaming...I want you to feel it.”
I begged him to stop but he laughed behind me and shortened his stroke.
Within a few moments he was groaning "Fuck, here it comes!"
His load emptied into my ass. Hot creamy oil filled me up and ran down my shaking thighs as his dick continued to slide in and out. My shoulders ached in relief as I relaxed forward. Mickey withdrew and left me raw and exhausted and empty.
After he freed my hands he told me to get the fuck out and not come back unless I wanted to deal with Jimmy. I went out the back way, turned left and left again until I could see the street. I turned back once at the sound of someone moving in the alleyway behind me. No one was there.
~~~~~
Chapter 3: It's all Psychological
~~~~~
Poor Alan. The whole abnormal psychology class was staring at him as if he had just confessed to eating someones liver without benefit of even a fava bean. Alan had simply asked that if a violent tendency could be satisfied some other way why not explore alternative courses of treatment? Allow the behavior under controlled circumstances. Professor Morrow did not get to express her disgust when the bell rang. Men and woman alike filed out, giving Alan a wide radius. He flushed and sank into his seat.
I sat down in the seat next to him.
"Alan, I don't think your theory was weird at all."
"Really? You don't think it's...sick?"
"No, not at all! If a compulsive thief is allowed to steal in a clinical environment is he still a thief? Has anyone been harmed?"
"Exactly my point! If you can satisfy the need in a controlled way you take away some of the danger!"
"I agree completely! Say a man drags a women into a dark alley and brutally uses her. Is it still wrong if she WANTS him to do it?"
"Yes! You get my point....wait...what?"
I smiled. "Alan, everyone has a dark want. A need that we aren't supposed to talk about. Some people have a need to dominate, to control, to have what they want when and how they want it. Others, need to be the wanted...they need to be the prey."
I leaned in.
He swallowed audibly. "I'm...are you saying...if someone were to arrange to be somewhere at a certain time...and that person had permission to...to..."
"...act out the need to overpower and dominate..." I licked my lips and looked away, blushing.
"Then the desires of both could be satisfied without any wrongdoing."
"Exactly" I started towards the door as I watched the wheels in his head turn.
"So," I offered over my shoulder, "if someone knew that a woman like that was going to be walking home from The Rathskellar after midnight tonight they might be waiting for them somewhere...secluded. It would make for a hell of a psychological experiment...if you knew anyone what wanted to do that. You know...take someone. Make someone..."
I heard him finally exhale as I walked through the door.
*******
It had been a good night at the Rathskellar. Mitch won on a scratch ticket and kept buying rounds and rounds of drinks. I walked a little off kilter as I made my way up Penn's Hill towards the maze of side alleys the lurked just beyond the darkened stores. I stood for a moment in front of the adult bookstore looking at the barely covered porn-stars lounging and writhing and beckoning to anyone who had the money. There was the sound of a live band and loud men coming out of the bar on the right side of the alley. There was the sound of shuffling coming from the alley itself.
“What do you wear to a rape?” I had asked myself before going out. I wanted to look hot but also innocent. A sundress with elastic top and cute white socks and sneakers worked. I had pulled my long hair into a pony tail at the top of my head.
I steadied myself and started past the alleyway. Before I made it halfway an arm darted out and yanked me into the darkness by my arm. I whimpered slightly and a hand clamped over my mouth.
"Shut up!" he ordered in a low, sharp and surprisingly calm tone.
I slumped against him as he moved me further into the alley. At the end he dragged me left towards a low cement loading dock. He shoved me towards the corner and I turned to look at him. My attacker wore a black ski mask, a sweatshirt and a pair of running pants. A backpack was slung over his shoulder. I could see his dick already erect and bobbing against the light material of his pants. I wanted to taste it but acting eager would ruin the whole scene.
"Please" I whispered "please don't. Don't hurt me". I started to tug at my little dress as if to conceal myself.
He moved in close and I could feel him press against my thigh. "Beg" he said flatly.
"Please, I'm begging you. Don't do this to me. I'm...I'm afraid." I used the smallest voice I could find. My breath began to hitch as my heart pounded. I sank to my knees. “See, I'm begging you.”
He raised his hand and traced the side of my face where a tear had slid down. He leaned his masked face down into mine.
"You want to leave. I want my dick in your mouth. You suck me good and you can walk out of here. Otherwise..." He dropped a black knapsack to the ground. There was a clank of metal.
"Oh...god" I whimpered as he slid the track pants down to reveal his raging hard on. He twirled my hair in his hand and drew me in. "Suck it...suck it now bitch!".
I was dragged forward and I took the length of him into my mouth. He tasted like metal and sweat. I struggled and pushed away as I suckled the end of his cock. Pre-cum dribbled over my tongue. I slid forward again in defeat. He nudged at the back of my throat as his hips swayed forward and back.
"Oh, you sick bitch. You actually came here tonight. What the hell is wrong with you? You came here so I could make you...Oh...god...you are so sick..."
He pulled his dick out of me and let me fall back against the loading dock. I gasped for air and turned to run but he caught me by the hair.
"Look at you. Little fucking dress. Like a little girl. You fucking want it like this..." He slid a hand up under my dress and tore my thong sideways. I let out a gasp and fell forward over the loading dock. I was pinned beneath him.
He reached under and grabbed my tits. My nipples had begun to poke at the lace of my bra. Every time he ran his hand over them I could not help but moan. I started to cry again.
"Please, I sucked you...god...please stop. I don't want too..."
I was cut off by his hand clamping over my mouth.
"You don't want to? Fuck that! Look at you. Your nips are as hard as rocks...and your pussy..." He slid a finger in, "...is...oh my god...so fucking soaked."
I rode up and down on his finger. One became two. His thumb found my asshole and entered. I could not hold my moans down. Juices flowed over his hand and dripped down soaking my legs.
“Oh bitch, do I have something for you.” he growled.
He let go of my mouth and thrust me forward. I felt my nipples drag against the concrete as the sharp edge of the dock dug into my thighs. I moaned and writhed as he slid his hot cock into me. His finger, still slick from my pussy slid into my asshole. My ass rose in the air as he pressed my head down using his leverage to drive in deeper.
I heard laughter as a group of students stumbled their way down the street on the other side of the building. If I had screamed they would have heard me for sure. I bit my lip and stayed silent until they had passed.
"You want it now? Huh? Admit it. Now do you want it?"
"Oh god yes." I whispered.
"Say it...say it so I can hear you. Tell me you want it."
"I want it. I want you to fuck me...oh god...I want it...don't stop!"
Alan grabbed my hips and began plowing into me with all he had. I arched my head back and moaned out loud as the orgasm hit. Wave after wave pushed through me. Orgasm, gravel, trash, leaves, sweat and fear all mixed and flowed around me. I slid forward as it passed.
I pulled my legs together and tightened up around his burning meat. My back arched as I began to meet his thrusts halfway...pulling him into me as hard as he was pumping himself.
"Oh you sick whore...I'm coming...I'm going to cum on you...oh...god..."
He pulled his dick out and squeezed a sticky white load on my ass. I felt it trickle down between my legs as he slumped against me.
I huddled by the loading dock for several minutes as he pulled himself together, gathered his bag and made his way back out to the alley and the street. I saw what was left of my thong hanging out of his backpack. I was sore and spent and wondering how I was going to get home with my skirt sticking to the cum on my ass.
Ah well...it's not like it was the first time...
~~~~~
Chapter 4: Back to the Bar
~~~~~
Micky's message had been short. "Come to the bar Friday night. I want to apologize for the other night"
I got there around 11 and circled around to the back alley. Mickey was there waiting by the chain link fence surrounding the dumpsters. His dark-turning-gray hair brushed the collar of his jacket. His usual plaid shirt hung over scandalously tight back jeans. He looked absolutely delicious.
"Glad you could make it" he said. "I didn't tear you away from a rugby team or anything thing did I?"
"No...girls field hockey" I said as I moved in closer to him. I could smell the beer and smoke from the bar clinging to him. I slid a hand over his chest. "I knew you'd call eventually...once you stopped being mad".
"Oh, I didn't invite you here" he said grabbing my wrist and pulling me into him.
"I did" said a voice in the darkened service doorway to my right.
"Aw shit...Jimmy!"
*******
The men's room at The Harp was much like every other men's room in every other bar in America. It consisted of 2 stalls, 4 urinals, 2 sinks and a paper towel dispenser that never actually dispensed towels. A roll always sat atop...threatening to fall down and roll along the black and white checkerboard floor.
Mickey had passed my wrist, and the rest of me, to his older brother at the door and returned to tending bar. Now we stood, Jimmy, his "assistant" Mo and I, in the back men's room.
Jimmy was the very picture of an Irish crook. Just under 6 feet tall with bright eyes and salt and pepper hair. He smelled of good cigars and new car interiors. He always carried cash but never seemed to pay for anything. He owned The Harp and everything in it.
"You owe me"
"I owe you what? What the hell are you talking about?"
"You owe me for a case of vodka. Very good vodka. Mickey told me about your little tantrum last week"
"That two faced lying sack of shit! He said we were square!" I spun around and bounced, not elegantly, off of Mo's considerable bulk. Mo had never been smart but he had always been large. He had worked in the lumberyard for almost 30 years now. His hands had practically turned to wood and they always smelled of sawdust and wood stain.
"Now," he said, almost kindly, "take your medicine and you'll be fine...right boss?"
"Right Mo!" Jimmy said with a smile. "I don't want anything from you I'm not owed."
Mo corralled me back towards Jimmy who was leaning against the short row of sinks. He was undoing his belt and opening up his expensive gray wool pants. A full 7 inches of payback slipped out. His hand found the back of my head and he pulled my forward as Mo applied pressure from behind.
"Now, let's get this started before you start accruing interest"
He slid into my mouth despite my attempt at protest. Jimmy held my head tightly as I pressed him to the roof of my mouth with my tongue. I started to slide forward and fell into a rhythm. I steadied myself, gripping the edge of the white porcelain sink he leaned on. My knees slid a little on the dank tile. I was taking him deeper with every stroke.
"Fucking whore" he rasped "did you think I would not come looking for you?"
As I felt him start to push towards the back of my throat I heard the door open.
For a brief moment the sound and smells of the bar swept in. Aerosmith played on the jukebox. One man was loudly proclaiming that Derek Jeeter was a pussy. Another offered an "amen to that".
"Jesus Jimmy...what the Christ?" the voice behind me proclaimed.
"Go use the front bathroom Len, Jimmy's just conducting a little business here" Mo offered.
"Ian's kid, Tommy, puked in that one. Smells like fucking nachos." His voice was closer now.
Jimmy pulled himself out of me and looked up at Len. "Do your business and go...or stay and watch...we aren't done here yet". With a grunt he drove forward into my still open mouth. It simply had not occurred to me to close it. I heard Len take his leak about 2 feet behind me and take up a spot to my side..
"You know" he said "Mo here had to clean up your little mess. I think you owe him too"
I mumbled a noise of protest through a mouthful of cock.
"No, now, Mo's a married man. He can't just be throwing his dick into every dirty whore that comes around! Mo...how's that pussy look to yo back there?"
Mo moved from his position beside the stalls and slid the back of my skirt up.
"Looks tight from here, Boss" he said moving his rough hands over my ass. I arched my back from reflex. A single fat finger pressed against my slit. I moaned a little as he slid a calloused finger into me.
"Oh, that is tight...and so fucking wet...dammit boss, you were right, she's into this."
I worked my hips back and forth as his thick thumb found my asshole. Mo unzipped his pants and took out his cock.
“Oh yeah boss...she's a good one. I'm going to give her a deposit right on her ass.”
I felt his hands start to shake as he jerked himself off behind me. I felt a hot stream of cum hit my back and rode his fingers to orgasm.
"Yeah", he mumbled "come on my hand...that's right...I got you off...now you finish your job."
Mo used the flat of his hand to slap my ass as hard as he could, first one side and then the other. I squealed and lunged forward, now taking Jimmy's dick as far as it could go.
Jimmy's pace quickened and his hands steadied my head. I choked as he fucked my mouth like a cunt.
"Oh fuck, it's coming...oh...fuck..."
He yanked my head back and let his load empty over my face. I hung my head forward and felt it drip down into my blouse. I leaned against the stall divider and felt the cold wet tile against my now burning ass.
I saw Len for the first time, lurking in the stall beside me with his now limp dick hanging out of his pants. The small puddle under my leg must have been from him. It was still warm under my thigh.
Jimmy looked down at me with a smirk. "You never broke any bottles did you?"
"Nope...Mickey broke them and the fucked me over a crate for it. He's an asshole like that."
"Then you had to know he was setting you up...why did you come here?"
"I like men's rooms."
~~~~~
Chapter 5: The End
~~~~~
It was Friday night when Alan called from the Harp. I could hear an Irish band massacring some Dropkick Murphys song while Gloria, their biggest fan, whooped and hollered in the background. I could tell she was their biggest fan by the way the lead singer kept saying "Jesus Gloria, put your top back on!"
Alan sounded nervous. It struck me odd as the last time I saw him he raped me silly (at my suggestion) in an alley. I still got wet thinking about it. He wasn't nervous at all then.
"So, um. Hi. I wanted to know if you could meet me. Like, where we met last time?"
"Sure, will you wear the mask again? I really liked that."
"Huh? Oh, no no, I just...well, can you meet me at 11?"
I looked over at my PC. The blinking cursor mocked me from an empty blog entry. It seemed to flash out write something, bitch. Usually, I respond well to being called bitch. Tonight, however, I wanted to go out.
"I'll see you then."
*******
I stood in the alley opening between the adult bookstore and the Harp. Gloria's name was being chanted by a crowd of drunken electrical workers inside the bar. I'm assuming she took her top off again.
Alan emerged from the dark. He looked up and down the street as if he was afraid his mother might come around the corner at any moment.
"Hey" he stammered. "Ever been in here?" He pointed to the adult bookstore. It's large glass windows had been frosted over about two thirds of the way up. Above that, flesh and neon twisted and blinked. A red LED bar scrolled promises into the dark.
...movies all night...full length movies...HUGE plasma screen...
"No, I get my porn online. Want to check it out?" I giggled.
"Yeah" he said, holding the door like his mother was watching.
*******
The bookstore looked like a Quickie Mart (if you'll pardon the pun) with rows upon rows of fluorescent lights casting a most unflattering glare over everything and everyone. DVD boxes with airbrushed models lined the walls. The inner aisles were stocked with magazines, books, inflatable sheep and dildo's fashioned after Calvin Coolidge or Dirk Benedict or someone-or-other. A surprisingly clean cut looking man stood behind the counter. He smiled like a Mormon and instructed us to ask him if we could not find what we were looking for. His name tag read "The Stick".
Alan asked where the movies were played. "The Stick", accepted a wad of bills from Alan and led us through a curtained off hallway towards the back of the building. The first thing I noticed was the smell. It was the smell of sweat and cum and too much cologne. We turned a corner and began to see flickering light come from a room ahead.
"Oh fuck...I'm coming" a mans voice moaned.
"I want to swallow it...come in my mouth baby" answered a woman.
We stepped out into a dim room. It's only light came from the enormous plasma screen mounted on the far wall. On it, a woman who clearly had spent all her food money on enormous boobs and a man so very blessed by God he could only have been named "Tripod" were indulging in something that involved a barn, a UPS package and 5 inch heels.
There were 4 rows of seats. Some couches, some individual club chairs. All were old and stained and most were occupied by men of various ages and levels of cleanliness. A man closest to me was rubbing the purple tip of his dick with a pair of red panties. He was in his 50's and balding. I thought he looked a lot like a dentist with his clean button down shirt and glasses on a chain.. I thought briefly about kneeling in front of him and just taking him in my mouth. I wondered if he would pull away. Would he be repulsed by me or further aroused? People came here for a fantasy. What if I wasn't his?
Further down was an enormous man sitting smack in the middle of a sagging blue love seat. He rhythmically gripped and released the arms of the small couch. I imagined what it might be like to be penetrated by those thick fingers or to feel his long, shaggy beard drag across my thighs. He squinted at us through thick glasses and then returned to the movie.
The next row up held two men sitting at opposite ends of the line, each in his own deteriorating chair. The man closest to me rubbed his rapidly rising cock beneath the jacket he has slung over his lap. The small beads on the ends of his braided hair clicked in quiet rhythm as he moved. He looked at me as I moved by, licked his hand and retreated back beneath his jacket.
The man at the other end leaned towards us and whispered “Hey, $10 if either of you sucks my dick.”
Alan urged me to the front row where a man had a three-seater couch all to himself.
The man in the dark suit turned and looked up at me with startling blue eyes. "Welcome, please sit."
"You?" my heart pounded. "What...?"
I sat on the center cushion and looked at Alan as he moved to sit behind me. He looked at the man and then back at me.
"He asked me to bring you here. He said you were friends."
"Well...yeah..." My brain kept flipping through the first time, and really last time, I had met my aggressive stranger. He had used me in so many of the ways I enjoy. He had sent me away with cum in my hair and adrenalin pumping though my veins.
"Don't speak" he said in an even tone. "Just listen. You are here because I sent for you. You are here for me...for what I want. Understand?"
I nodded and looked down at his already bulging pants. He caught me under my chin.
"For now, just watch the movie. It's a new one, it's been a big hit here for a week! All the guys really like it."
The ending credits for "Back Door Delivery" scrolled away. Somewhere in the back a DVD changer spun as more men filled in the chairs and sofas behind me. The next film started immediately. There were no credits and no cheesy porn music. The camera kept pulling in and out of focus until it finally settled on a pool of light in an otherwise darkened alley. There was a chain link enclosure that held a dumpster and service entrance off to the right. Also to the right was the opening of an alley.
The stranger's hand tightened on my arm. Alan absently played with my hair. I realized I was looking at the alley behind the bookstore I was sitting in. Specifically the part behind The Harp. The place where he had first taken me. A man pulled a women into the pool of light and pushed her against the brick wall.
A man behind us hooted. Two others unzipped themselves further back. "You're going to get yours slut!" one mumbled. A wave a whiskey smelling breath rode down the aisle. I forgot to breathe.
The dark suited man leaned in and whispered. "Aren't video cameras a marvel? Look at the detail? And the sound is great. When you start choking on my cock...damn...it's like I'm right back there."
I squirmed in my seat. I could hear the men around me breathing deeply, moaning softly as they watched him throw me back against the chain fence and fuck my throat. "Son of a bitch" one of them mumbled "fuck her just like that".
I watched as he pulled me up and sent me back the way I came. The scene changed and the angle of the camera was different now. Now, a low, gray cement loading dock came into focus. A man in a black ski mask threw a woman into the corner. I looked at Alan.
"He followed me...told me he had me on tape...told me to get you here." He seemed to be apologizing as he stroked his dick through his workout pants and kneaded the back of my neck at the same time. He watched me on the screen as I knelt and took him into my mouth. His eyes widened.
"Cocktease!" a man in the back yelped! "You can tell she wants it!"
I had wanted it. I wanted it again. I slid my hand over Alan's dick and massaged him though his pants.
The stranger broke the spell and dragged me down into his lap. I had been so fascinated by the scene unfolding on the wall in front of me. I was being used and violated and punished and these rough and dirty men were jerking off and loving every minute of it. A small shiver ran up to my belly.
His cock ended up sliding well into my mouth. I could hear my own moans, my on-screen gasps and Alan's groans. The stranger's voice came up over them all.
"I knew you would come back here after I was done with you. Girls like you can't stay away. First that frigging bartender... my friend Alan here...then the bartenders brother? I wish I had a camera in The Harp. I heard you took it hard from Mickey. Just your style."
His hand twisted my hair and slid me further forward. On the screen I was bent over with my tits dragging on the concrete. Here, Alan was rubbing my ass and grinding himself back and forth.
The stranger spoke to the darkness behind him.
"Everyone like the movie?"
His question was greeted by a fairly enthusiastic groan from the men behind us.
"We got the star right here...sucking my dick. Anyone want to see?"
There was movement from behind the couch. Damien pulled on the back of my hair and flung me towards Alan who caught me with a fair amount of grace. He put a hand under my chin and held me up to the faces coming out of the dark.
"Shit, it is her!" one of them said.
"Fuckin-a" another mumbled, his hand held out of site, still stroking himself.
"Cock-tease!" came from the back of the room. I think it was the dentist.
He grabbed my arm and spun me to face the screen. The alley had been replaced by a small room filled with club chars and sofas. A night vision filter gave everything a green glow. I looked to my right and saw it, perched up on a shelf in the corner. We were live.
I looked back at him and to all the faces who had now come forward. He gripped me by my shoulders and brought me to my knees. I accepted his dick back in my mouth and began to suck. I let him slide slow into my throat and I held him there, letting my lungs burn for air. A pulled back and immediately fell forward again, taking him deep.
"That's it, suck it deep slut. Show these guys what they have been jerking off to."
Alan leaned in from behind me and opened my blouse. He then slid his hands under my denim skirt and moved it up. I had not bothered with underwear. I felt him rub his dick around my asshole. It was slick with spit and slid gently around. Shudders went up my spine as I arched, all but begging for him to drive into me.
I was pulled me up abruptly. "Hell no," he said, "I get in there first. I'm the host of this little party!"
I was swung around so I knelt on the couch. I faced the crowd of men gathered there. Each had a swollen cock in their hands. I counted them as the dark suited man slid a healthy 7 inches into me. I only got to 5 before Alan appeared in front of me. Now his cock was all I could see. I sucked on it gratefully.
"Oh fuck," he moaned. "Look at you. Yeah, you take it all bitch. You take it from him and from me. Look at you on the that screen. You're so fucking sick. Oh fuck I'm coming!"
Hot lather hit my face and dribbled off my chin. I wiped it down into my cleavage. I was plowed harder from behind. A hand came out of the dark. It was already wet with cum. He smeared it down my neck and used it as lube to slide his hand into my bra. My friend the dentist.
“Are you a whore?” he asked. “Tell us what you are!”
“I am...I am a whore. Oh god I want more cum. Make me filthy!”
Other hands slithered and groped. They left trails of cum over my face, down my blouse and into my skirt. For a moment there was tongue in my mouth. Then a hand slapped my cheek lightly. I heard the light clicking of beads as a salty finger pressed into my mouth and down my tongue.
Then there was a cock in my mouth. I don't know whose. It was smaller than average and so easy to take deep. It's owner grabbed my braids fucked my mouth hard. He pulled out and an explosion of jizz slapped me in the face.
Now another dick, bigger than the last. Another in my hand, its juices already dribbling down and lubricating my jerking. A third to my left. He was stroking himself into my hair. I lost track of hands and dicks and tongues. I was constantly filled from both ends.
Steaming spurts of sperm flew out of the darkness. There were moans in my ear and strange cocks in my mouth. Some were small and perfect for sucking hard. Others I could only lick and taste. All the while Damien fucked me like a dog. He slapped my ass if I slowed and pulled me back by my hair to take more cum in my face.
The screen behind me displayed the depraved scene in cold green.
I cried out as a ball of lightning began to rocket through me. All those hands and cocks and men and cum and sweat swirled.
His voice came over my shoulder. "How does it feel to fuck in the filth? How does it feel to wear this much cum? How does it feel to be used?"
I could not speak. I breathed and I gasped and I swooned as my slit spasmed.
I came hard on the end of the strange man's dick. My howls and cries were amplified by the sound system in the theater. I reveled in the sound of my own voice begging for more.
He took his cock out my slit and slathered it with the hot cum dripping from me and slid it slowly into my ass. I reared up and settled down onto him. Fully exposed now, men reached over the couch and toyed with my clit and explored my soaking pussy. Fingers forced back into my mouth fed me my own juices. My anus clenched uncontrollably.
I bore down and rode him hard until he exploded in my ass. It felt like hot syrup filling me and dripping from me. I was wet from my hair to my knees. Soaked through.
I fell to the side and lay on the stained couch staring up at the ceiling. The smell of years of sex and perspiration and filth surrounded me. I smelled of it and now it smelled of me. My marvelous violent stranger hovered over me. He pulled his pants up and worked his belt buckle quickly. He looked at the camera, smirked and walked out the door in the back of the room. Cool air blew over me and dried the still sticky cum that covered me. I shivered a little.
I looked at Alan. He still looked a little dazed. He was standing to the side trying to block some of the men coming down the aisle towards me.
"Hey Alan, do me a favor?"
"Sure. Yeah?"
"Move the camera to the other wall...I think it will be a better angle..."
###
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Chapter 6: About the Author
~~~~~
Persephone is a full time web developer and part time writer. She is currently living in Massachusetts with Husband and their two cats Bad and Naughty. She is a real person who chooses to share her fantasies with the world...whether they like it or not.
Persephone is a huge proponent of SAFE, SANE and SOBER sex-play.
She does not meet offline but does encourage communication. Email the author at:
sharing.persephone@gmail.com
Keep up with Persephone:
http://twitter.com/SharePersephone