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 The Classified Ad 5 (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 5 (Mf humil) by Foxbat



   Most week with Will were pretty much the same: I got choked, slapped,
spat on and fucked.  Usually on the floor, usually after professing my
whoredom, and usually much to my satisfaction.  Every once in a while Will
would come up with something good - like the "doggy" night of a few weeks
ago.

   I think it was becoming harder for him to evoke in me the feelings of
shame, embarrassment, and humiliation - the feelings that got us both off -
as our routine became more regular.  But junkies keep needing greater doses
and are always on the lookout for the next new high.  And so were we.

   ***

   As always, Will entered my apartment unannounced.  Ignoring me, he went
straight to my bedroom and began shuffling through my closet.  Soon he had
picked out an old sweatshirt of mine, and had started to go through my
drawers.  I was used to him acting like he owned the place, so I was just
watching from the door, waiting to see where this was going.  Without even
looking at me, he told me to strip.

   I was naked by the time he found what he wanted: a string bikini bottom
of mine, blue with yellow trim.  He flung it at me in a silent command for
me to wear it.  I was beginning to become excited, as he wordlessly watched
me put it on.  I still felt very naked, especially since he was still fully
clothed.

   He walked over and slipped his finger under the bikini.

   "Slut."

   He reached into his backpack and pulled out a pair of foam earplugs -
the kind that you get to help you sleep.  I put them in.  I could still
hear voices pretty clearly (although they sounded like they were coming
from the next room), but nearly all the background noise disappeared.  I
was still fidgeting with one when he tossed me the next item in my wardrobe
for the evening.

   At first I wasn't sure what it was.  It was black and shiny - not
leather, but not latex either...  maybe some kind of vinyl.  It had an odd
assortment of holes.  He just watched smugly until I realized it was a
hood/mask - sort of like a baliklava.  There were two holes for my eyes,
two tiny ones for my nostrils, and one hole for my mouth, and a hole in the
back for my hair to come out.  Other than that, it completely covered my
head and neck.  It also had small black snaps on the face.  I found out a
moment later that another piece snapped over my face blindfolding me.

   Without sight and with very limited sound, I could feel him doing
something with tape to my breasts and putting a collar (maybe the one from
the doggy weekend?) around my neck, before he pulled the sweatshirt over
me. He helped me put on a pair of high-heels, and I began to wonder what
all the fuss was about.  I assumed this might be another one of his more
adventurous evenings.  Being kept in the dark (figuratively and literally)
was kind of exciting - as if I were so unimportant that he didn't deign to
tell me what to do.

   Being led, sometimes by my hair, sometimes by a breast grabbed through
the sweatshirt, and occasionally by an arm, we walked.  At first, I was so
disoriented I didn't realize we'd left my apartment.  But when he pushed me
into a seat and it felt like a car, I almost had a heart attack.  Granted
my face was covered, but there could only have been so many tall blond
girls in my apartment building.  I imagined someone else riding down in the
elevator with us - me in bikini bottoms and heals, a sweatshirt and hood
with a plume of blond hair; Will winking to the other resident as he groped
me, maybe even inviting the stranger to have a try.  What would they think
of me?

   We drove for what seemed like a long time.  Being blind and deaf really
limited my ability to keep track of direction, so I gave up rather quickly.
Part of me suspected we were just driving endlessly around the block
because Will wanted me to stew in anticipation.

   I sort of felt us stop, but I surely felt the cold as my door opened. 
Will hauled me out, as I stood, unsure.  I felt him lifting up my
sweatshirt.  I had no idea where we were or what was going on, so I clamped
my arms down.

   The slap landed hard, and with no warning since I couldn't see it coming
at all.  My face stung through the mask, and tears of shame and anger
welled in my eyes.  I felt his hand going down the back of the bikini
waistband, and a moment later his fingers pushed into my folds.  I was wet.

   In that moment, I hated myself.  I hated being god-knows-where, being
blind, being exposed, and worst of all being turned on by it.  Usually my
mind was co-conspirator to by body, but why did my body have to betray me
like this?  His hand dawdled, gently masturbating me to emphasize a point
long since made.  When he lifted the sweatshirt again, I raised my arms to
help.

   My nipples hardened under the tape in the cold hair, as he pushed me in
front of him.  I stepped forward, feeling frantically around me with each
new step.  Grabbing my hair again, he pushed me forward faster, and I had
no choice but to focus on walking in the heals and hope that he wouldn't
let me run into anything.

   After a few stops and a couple of steps.  he pushed me down into a
push-feeling seat.  I could feel him sliding in beside me, his hand on my
leg, slowly tracing up my thigh and gently massaging me through the bottom,
not enough to do much, but just enough to tease.

   I opened my knees more to give him greater access, hoping he would
correctly interpret the gesture.  I was not disappointed as his hand pushed
the fabric aside for more direct access.  Although I only saw black, I
could feel him watching me, intently trying to gauge how close to orgasm I
was.  After being on the edge for so long, I was close.  His fingers
running over my labia, gently squeezing my clitoris - it was too much.

   Perhaps I moaned, perhaps I pushed too insistently against his fingers,
perhaps he just knew me too well.  Just as I began cumming, I felt his
fingers curl upwards inside me to press against my g-spot.  The world
exploded in red/white and, for a moment while I floated in ecstasy, I
failed to realize it was because he had ripped off the snap-on blindfold.

   ***

   My first impression of the place was red.  Red walls, dim red lights,
red velvet curtains - everything glowed dim red.  There were two or three
circular low stage-like areas in front of us, and I thought for a moment we
were at a strip club.  But on second glance it was a couple on one of the
stages, fucking on a circular red ottoman, shockingly white in the middle
of the red.  There was a bar, also glowing red off to one side, but the
rest of the perimeter of the room was made up of booths, some with red
curtains drawn.  We were sitting in such a booth, with a semi-circular
booth seat and semi-circular table.

   "Relax, slut.  Open your legs and put your hands down."

   I was unaware of it, but I had his hand clamped between my thighs, and
my hands had instinctively risen to cover my breasts.  I dropped my hands,
and saw that I had black electrical tape covering my nipples in the shape
of an X on each breast.  There was a vodka tonic in front of me on the
table.

   Things were just sinking in.  I had just been fingered to orgasm in the
middle of some weird porno club, my legs splayed obscenely, for anyone to
see.  Since we had been served, clearly a waiter had seen us, maybe others.
I shuddered in aroused embarrassment of how dirty that was.

   "Where are we?" I asked, probably too loud since I still had the plugs
in.  Although I could hear Will clearly and could barely the thump of
background music, everything else was eerily silent.

   "It's a special club.  People come here to perform, and to watch others.
I found it on the internet.  Like it?"

   His fingers were still in my vagina, and he began to move them to remind
me.

   "I hope you do, because we're the next act." He smiled.

   Again, it took a moment for me to realize what he had just said.  Being
humiliated in the dark back corner was way different than going up on stage
in front of everyone who might be here.  I turned towards him and opened my
mouth to object, but I was cut off when his hand shot to my throat.  He
leaned in close to me.

   "You will come up to that stage.  You will get fucked.  You will come.
And you will thank me for it.  You will do these things because you're a
hopeless slut who needs me as an excuse to do what you really want to do.
Well here you go.  You have twenty seconds to follow me up to that stage,
starting now."

   With that, he slid out of the seat and strode confidently up to the
stage.  The previous couple departed as Will climbed onto the rotating
platform and put one foot up on the red ottoman.  He turned to look back
towards me.  He was wearing a black hooded robe, probably a graduation gown
and master's hood he had gotten somewhere on campus.  The front was open
and he seemed to glow in the light as he stared back in my direction
expectantly.

   I wasn't sure if I could do this.  Despite all the depravity I enjoyed
with Will, it had always been in private.  Although no one could see my
face because of the hood, I was terrified.  I couldn't describe what
exactly it was I was afraid would happen, but I wanted the game to end
here. If it did, I knew that Will would not see me again.

   Will made a gesture with his arm, and I could see him saying something
to the audience at large.  As he turned to me, I saw the words "MY SLUT" on
his lips.  When I did not immediately come, he clapped his hands once, and
pointed at the ground in front of him, as if I were a dog.

   I burned red.  I felt like a million pairs of eyes were watching me,
although I could see none.  A million people waiting for me to go up, a
million who wanted to see everything I kept private, a million to witness
my whorishness.

   I stood and walked to the stage, hyper aware of the slick feeling
between my thighs, of my scanty cover, of William's bright white erection
in the light.

   When reached the stage, Will reached out and grabbed my hair with one
hand, holding it right near my scalp, as he made a show of groping me like
a horse up for auction.  Before I could do anything, he yanked my head
down, trapping it between his thighs.  I could feel him reaching back and
spreading my butt, baring my ass and pussy for everyone there to see. 
After a moment, a finger was rammed up my pussy followed a second later by
one slowly pushed into my ass.  Again my holes were spread.

   I thought of those million people now knowing exactly how turned on I
was, how much of a nasty slut I had become.

   "It will now beg to suck my cock!" William announced, releasing me but
re-establishing his grip on my hair and dragging me back upright.  I could
hear him because we were now so close and he was speaking loudly.

   Almost instinctively, since begging for each successive act of
degradation had become a routine of ours, I begged.  "Please may this slut
suck your cock?"

   Quicker than I could react, his hand slapped my breasts, one up and one
down.  "It will refer to itself as 'it.'" He commanded.

   This was new.  I had already been robbed of the first person, the
exclusive preserve of humans.  Now, in front of all these people, I was
being objectified in the worst way language made possible.

   "May it suck your cock?" I asked.  Instead of an answer, he pushed my
head at his crotch, using both hands in my hair to ensure I arrived at the
proper destination.  For the next five minutes, we alternated face-fucking
with cock-slapping as I struggled to regain my breath and repress the urge
to choke or vomit.  I sensed he was getting near when he pushed my head
lower.  As I had done on previous occasions, I carefully sucked his balls
into my mouth, delicately tounging around them and looking up at William
past his cock which lay between my eyes.  I found this particularly
degrading and enjoyable - as if I were such a sex toy to him that he could
safely stuff my mouth full of his balls without worrying that I might have
any volition on my own with which to endanger them.

   When he released me, I knew what to do next.  "Please fuck it." I
begged.

   I was already on my knees, but he walked around behind me.  With his
foot, he pushed the back of my neck down until my face rested against the
stage.  He stood there for a moment, looking like an explorer who had just
surmounted a peak, or a hunter posing with his impressive safari trophy.

   Without further ado, he penetrated me fully.  He fucked me hard, choking
me occasionally while whispering my ear that he would not let go until I
begged him to be fucked harder.  I remember coming with his foot across the
side of my face pushing it into the stage, my ass high in the air skewered
on his cock, my chanting "fuck it harder" dissolving into incoherency, the
million eyes penetrating me along with each thrust.

   Orgasms washed over me, and I lost touch with what was happening.  All I
felt was the eyes, fueling my humiliation, watching in rapt attention as I
couldn't help but keep coming.  As I began to come down, I felt a cold
sensation against my labia, an almost scraping feeling.  My revery ended
abruptly as Will dragged my head up.

   In front of my face hovered a spoon full of his cum.  I realized he must
have spooned it out of my pussy while I was still floating, and it was now
presented for me to swallow.  As the spoon moved toward me, I opened my
mouth.  There was no point left in resisting - anyone there had just
watched me beg for cock, degrade myself, and get my brains fucked out. 
Swallowing the cum spooned from my own cunt was merely the penultimate act
of admission of what everyone had already witnessed.

   And the ultimate act?

   I did not need prompting this time.

   "It thanks you for letting it eat your cum out of its cunt."