Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. The Classified Ad 3 (Mf, humil) by Foxbat Disclaimer: This story contains graphic sex should not be read if such stories are illegal in your state, or if you are a minor. Please feel free to distribute this, on the condition that the disclaimer and author's name remain intact and unaltered. For previous parts, or other stories of mine, please check out my website (thanks to ASSTR) at /~foxbat/ where you can find all of my work as well as some recommendations. All the content is also available via ftp at ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/foxbat/ Feedback, comments, suggestions, etc are always welcomed and appreciated at foxbat00@gmail.com The Classified Ad 3 (Mf, humil) by Foxbat When we had finished our coffee, there was a pause in the conversation. Holding my gaze for a moment, he told me to call later that week on an evening I was free. With that, he stood and walked away. The intervening week was nearly unbearable, and passed in a haze of sexual frustration and heightened anxiety. I was nervous on the night, but I worked up the courage to call him. His voice was cold and dispassionate as I gave him my address. Ten minutes later, I heard a knock on the door. I opened it, and he strode past me as if I weren't even there. He walked around my apartment like a prospective purchaser, squinting here, frowning there, nodding once or twice before he returned to the door. In a sudden burst of movement, he slammed the door shut and savagely pushed me against it, mashing his lips into mine as his tongue roughly explored my mouth. The tingling of anticipation had expanded into a body-wide frisson of excitement and lust, leaving me weak-kneed. He pulled back for just a moment. "Is this what you like?" He asked, his face an inch away from mine, any prettiness transmogrified by his roughness, his transitions from rage hot to ice cold. I hadn't realized I was panting. "Yes..." I moaned. He smiled thinly, pressing himself against me and me into the hard door, his eyes piercing mine. "Be specific. Tell me what you like." "I..." I wanted him to continue molesting me; these words were distracting. He grabbed my chin until I looked into his eyes. "Use the third person," he commanded. I felt flush. "This..." I paused, searching for a noun. Girl? Woman? Wanton hussy? "Slut?" He suggested. "This slut likes it when you use her for your satisfaction" Oh god. The embarrassment of having to admit it, like I was an object, just a toy for his fulfillment, was overwhelming, but incredibly exciting. My face was probably bright red, and I thought briefly of what other people would think (my girlfriends? my parents? other boys?) before my knees got weak again. His hand moved from my chin to my neck, applying light pressure, holding me up from collapsing in shame. His other hand thrust up under my skirt, clumsily, fumbling for the waistband to my panties which he yanked down. His hand pushed between my legs, where I was soaking wet. Without purpose or destination the hand roughly moved through my sodden folds, causing waves of pleasure (and embarrassment, as he was nearly a total stranger) to course through me. He withdrew his hand from my skirt, holding it up to my face. My wetness glistened for us both to see. Without hesitation, he wiped it across my face, forcing me to smell my own arousal. Then, with his face only an inch away from mine, he licked my face. Not a tentative kiss-lick, but a lick like a dog gives, when you feel the wet-roughness of the tongue that pulls your skin with it. His hand released my neck, and I half collapsed as he pushed me down in front of him, guiding my descent with one hand wrapped in my hair. When I was situated on my knees in front of him, he gave me my orders. "Get my dick out. No hands, slut." I put my hands behind my back, and tried to start undoing his belt buckle with my teeth, but I was interrupted. "Open your legs, slut." He prodded me with his foot, encouraging me to kneel spread in a more submissive posture. I resumed the attack on his belt, managing to get the leather strap free from the belt loops. The zipper and button were harder, but worst was trying to get his dick out from his boxers without using teeth. Eventually I was succeeded, and was rewarded by being slapped across the face with his now serious erection. Without further ado, he pushed into my mouth, his hands in my hair forcing my head down until I gagged. He made a derisive comment about my lack of abilities, before he settled for fucking my face, pushing his cock against my cheek and prompting me to lick around it in my distended mouth. Periodic cock-slaps spread saliva all over my face, leaving my makeup in ruins. I did my best to keep up, trying not to gag and licking wherever I could. After ten minutes of so, he pulled me off his cock, locked his eyes with mine, and ejaculated white ropey strands of spunk over my forehead and nose. He looked proud, like an artist regarding a masterpiece. "Aw.... I was greedy, and now little slut muffin is still horny," he said, mockingly. I stood and he remove my drenched panties before pushing them into my mouth with false gentleness (a favorite masturbatory detail of mine). He sat on the edge of the couch, stretching his legs out straight. "Come on horny bitch, you can hump my leg... we can't have you with an itchy vagina now." My face burned red once again, but my vagina was definitely itchy. The spunk on my face was beginning to dry, and the smell from my panties in my mouth was nearly overwhelming, but I obeyed, straddling his leg just above the knee and grinding my crotch in a desperate bid for sexual satisfaction. He just stared into my eyes with a bemused expression, and I had trouble holding his gaze as a stew of buried feelings and questions bubbled through my mind - why did being treated like an object excite me so much? I was humping the leg of this stranger after servicing him in the most demeaning way possible, and yet this was the fulfillment of one of my most powerful fantasies. He pinched my nipples and slapped my tits, as his erection returned, and I approached orgasm. Just as I was about to trip over the edge into a mind-blowing orgasm of epic proportions, he pushed me off. I moaned through the panties, unhappy to be denied, but he roughly pitched me back onto the couch headfirst. Before I could move, he put his bare foot across the side of my face, forcing my head down and leaving my ass up and exposed. With no warning, he penetrated me fully from behind and fucked me furiously. I came. Hard. My mind disintegrated in a fireworks display as the fucking, the stinky footsweat and stale couch smells and the slaps that rained down on my ass melded into a synesthesiastic experience. When I came back to reality I realized he must have come some time in the interim because whispered into my ear how he wanted me to let his deposit run down my leg later in the day to remind me of what a cheap and dirty whore I was. Without further ado, he wiped his cock off with my hair, zipped his pants back up and walked out of my apartment, leaving the door open. For a minute I remained in position, letting the experience soak in: my panties still in my mouth, my shirt yanked up and my bra pulled down so my tits were hanging out, my ass in the air and my dress in a bunch, with a load of cum in my freshly fucked pussy now beginning to trickle down my thigh, and dried and crusty spooge all over my face and hair. I had used the third person, had begged to be fucked, had humped his leg like a bitch in heat, had let him fuck my face and pull my hair and slap and choke me. And I was thoroughly satisfied by it all - I had finally broken out. -- Kinda decided to take this story in a different direction. I've come to realize that BDSM isn't quite a monolithic kink, and that humiliation/shame can be just as exciting as the raw power dynamics I also like. So this was my exploration of that other side. Perhaps I may add another part, but I've also got one more story percolating that I'd like to hammer out. As always, I love to hear what you think (good, bad, ugly, or just any similar fantasies or thoughts you have). Yours, Foxbat