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Reluctant Suckslut, Part One: Relief Aid

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Staring dumbly at the ridiculous shirt being offered to her, Sophie considered backing out. Always one to support a good cause--she was a good, outspoken feminist, afterall--she’d reluctantly agreed to participate in the Relief Aid event at her sister’s insistence. Like Sophie, Jessica was always ready to volunteer for a good cause. While she didn’t share the same feminist ideals as her older sister, Jessica could be counted on to show up for charity carwashes, band boosters, help the homeless church events, or even neighborhood trash clean-up days.


As the older sister, Sophie considered it a kind of familial duty to help her sister out when she asked. Jessica, to her credit, was endlessly grateful, and never took advantage. Today’s event, though, had a special bonus for Jessica. Each volunteer she’d managed to wrangle for the event would net her extra credits toward her high school Senior Arts & Humanities project, which in turn earned her additional tuition assistance for college. Grudgingly, Sophie had agreed to be a volunteer.


“I hope you realize how much I love you.” Sophie grumbled, taking the shirt from Jessica with disdain.


The tight, sleeveless tank top was bright white and nearly transparent. Scrawled across the chest in large red letters were the words, “Relief Aid,” which Sophie was sure was thought up by some misogynistic asshole who was, doubtless, chuckling to himself at the double entendre. The tiny shorts that went with the shirt were skintight and black. The ensemble gave her an inward shudder as she thought about Hooters girls. It was revolting.


“I know you do,” Jessica replied, gratitude apparent in her voice, “just remember it’s for a good cause. Besides, you can rest on your moral superiority, while watching a bunch of drunken barbarians debase themselves like animals, knowing that you rise above all that nonsense,” her eyes brightened, and she smiled, continuing, “and, you’ll be showing that you’re not ashamed of your femininity! You’re using your natural womanhood to serve a higher purpose!”


Sophie laughed, despite herself. She didn’t agree, but she appreciated her little sister trying to put a positive spin on the embarrassing outfit. She took the skimpy clothes from Jessica, and went to dress.


By 9:00, Jessica pulled her car into the volunteer parking area at Relief Aid. The event was essentially an all-day concert and fair that sprawled across the local fairgrounds. Dozens of bands across as many genres of music would be performing throughout the day and into the night. The volunteers would be manning concession stands, stocking supplies, picking up trash, selling souvenirs, and any other number of menial tasks. The proceeds for the event went to a number of different causes that Sophie was actually passionate about.


Sophie scanned the literature from the event’s corporate sponsor, DomCo. What a stupid name, she thought. Still, the list of causes where the funds were going was heartening. Female empowerment groups. Women’s education programs. Sustainable housing for underprivileged women. Corporate jobs for women. Maybe DomCo wasn’t so bad. They just had a stupid name.


Sophie and Jessica left the car, both girls catching the eyes of all the men as they made their way to the volunteer check-in. Their mother’s Latin heritage was apparent in both girls. They shared the same long, black hair. Jessica had left hers loose, while Sophie had opted to put hers into a long braid. The tight black shorts hugged their generous, bubble butts, which jiggled enticingly as they walked, and their light brown skin was maddeningly on display in their toned legs. Sophie, a little older, and a little taller, sported a killer set of boobs that shook with each step, even encased in her bra. Jessica’s B cups couldn’t really compare with her sister’s double D’s, but on her slim, short frame they looked exquisite. The tight tank tops molded to the girls like a second skin. Sophie, with her big tits, looked like the definition of a sex object.


She felt a bit nervous, knowing that she would be exposing herself like this all day with a crowd of drunken, horny men devouring her with their eyes. When she saw the copious amounts of burly men in shirts that read, “Security,” though, she felt better. The event, it appeared, was well-coordinated. Jessica had gotten a bit ahead of her as Sophie had paused to look about, and when she caught up she found her sister chatting with a small group of friends who she had, also, convinced to volunteer for the day. Soon, the little group was checked in, and they waited in a holding area until the staff finished with the other straggling volunteers.


Once everyone had checked in, the staff began to hand out assignments. Jessica was assigned to a concession stand. Her friends had gotten trash duty, or souvenir detail. Sophie found herself assigned to a relief tent. The staff member in charge of her assignment explained that there were a number of relief tents around the fairgrounds. It was a long event, and there would be people freely drinking alcohol and eating crappy fair food. The relief tents were cool-off zones, where people could get out of the sun, lie down, and recuperate.


Sophie was, essentially, a glorified towel girl. She could offer them water or sports drinks to refresh electrolytes, give them cold towels, and dispense over the counter medications, such as pain relievers, allergy medication, or stomach relievers. As long as they signed a waiver, which she would file for the company’s records. Given the nature of the other work the volunteers were doing, this sounded like a great job. She was led to her tent.


On the way, she took in the variety of booths set up by DomCo. They passed several career booths. Sophie felt strange as she saw the kind of “jobs for underprivileged women” that DomCo was helpfully offering assistance with. Cleaning services. Escort services. Modeling. Adult entertainment. Stripping. Pole dancing instructor. Another booth offered free “safe sex” education courses. On one poster, an attractive blonde bimbo with her posterior jutting out provocatively held one finger over her anus, while a look of mock surprise showed on her face. Another poster showed a stupified redhead holding an oversized condom in her hand. Sophie thought she could see a suspicious white drop at the corner of the girl’s mouth, but she didn’t have time to stop to scrutinize the poster.


Inwardly she scoffed at the ridiculous size of the condom on the poster. Real penises were never that big. While she was a feminist, she wasn’t a man-hater. She’d had a few boyfriends, and even let one guy go all the way with her. That experience was, ultimately, what led her down the feminist path. Randy (aptly named) had been a real pig in bed, where he’d treated her like nothing more than a set of warm holes for his angry penis. That was years ago, and when she’d been 18 and stupid. Even so, his penis was nowhere near big enough to need a condom that size. It was clearly for shock value. Fucking marketing.


Outside, the day was already warming up. Inside, the tent was cooler, with the pleasant hum of fans circulating the air. The interior made her think of some kind of field hospital. The long tent was partitioned all down the length. Each partitioned area held a small cot, where sun-beaten drunks could take a rest. At the back, was a large, partitioned area, which held a file box, coolers filled with bottled water and sports drinks, small snacks for people suffering from low blood sugar, and some basic over-the-counter medications. The volunteer coordinator left her alone in the tent.


As the morning progressed, Sophie idly played with her phone. Her tent was on the further edges of the fairgrounds, so it remained fairly quiet as morning turned into afternoon. The few people that had stopped in generally asked for something for a headache, or just wanted to get a free bottle of water instead of coughing up a ridiculous sum for a soft drink at the concession stands. When the people that stopped in were female, they generally gave her a look of disgust, assuming she was just some big-titted bimbo.


They didn’t even consider that there was a real person with thoughts and feelings attached to those magnificent mountains of jiggling flesh. If they were male, they ogled her tits, legs, and ass. Again, they never stopped to think that there was a human being with real emotions and goals beneath the skimpy outfit. Like all men, she was just a pleasing visual image that they would go home and beat their dicks off to later tonight or think of while they stuck their scraggly penises into their fat, comely wives or girlfriends. The thought of those drunken animals using her for their masturbatory fantasies made her want to vomit.


Sophie knew that men, in general, weren’t dogs or pigs. They were obeying a biological function that urged them to breed. They couldn’t help that chemistry in their brains made their penises hard, and when that happened it was difficult to override the instinct to put their hard penis into a warm hole until it ejaculated. She understood this, but that didn’t mean that some men weren’t just brutes.


While scrolling through an article about self-empowerment, Sophie heard the tent flap rustle. She looked up, and a towering man ducked in through the flap, wiping his brow. He wore a cut-off tee that read, “My name is Buck, and I’m here to fuck”. Speaking of brutes, she thought. The man teetered a bit. Sophie was sure that he’d been pounding back beer all morning.


“Ya got a place ta lie down a spell?” The man slurred.


“Sure,” Sophie said, scanning the empty tent, “Just pick anywhere you like.”


The man took a cot, which groaned under his considerable size, and lay back.


“Can I bring you some water?” Sophie called from her camp chair, near the back.


“Please darlin’” he replied.


Sophie fetched a bottle of water and brought it to him. He took it gratefully and swallowed deeply from it. Sophie turned to walk away and felt the man’s hand grip her firm ass cheek. She sucked in a breath and glared at him.


“Excuse you!” She said.


“Aw, don’t get saucy on me honey,” the man said, “Yur just as pretty as a peach. I couldna help maself if I tried. And I did try, sure as shootin’.” He grinned playfully.


Sophie sighed and returned to her camp chair and her article. A few minutes passed in silence, and then a shadow fell over her. She looked up from her phone and saw the man towering over her. She was suddenly afraid. This guy was huge. She was alone. She had no idea if anyone else was nearby. In the hours she’d been in this tent she’d only seen a handful of people.


“Ya got any crackers, pretty girl?” he asked amiably.


Sophie gulped and stood up. The man was uncomfortably close, and he didn’t move back as she stood. He was certainly in her personal space. Though she tried to lean away from her, he was so close that her big tits brushed against his chest as she pushed the camp chair a pace back.


“I, um, I have some sn, snacks here,” She stammered.


Behind the back partition, she bent over the box of snack foods, and retrieved a package of crackers and a candy bar. As she stood up and turned around, there was the man, with her behind the partition. Her anxiety went up, and alarm bells started to ring in her head.


“Here you go,” she said, voice quavering, “Why don’t you just take those back to the cot. I think I’m just going to run out to the restroom.”


She tried to edge around the imposing bulk of the stranger, as he took the proffered snacks from her hand, but he caught her wrist. Sophie began to tremble.


“Please let me go.” She squeaked.


The man eyed her up and down hungrily.


“Relief aid,” he said slowly, reading her shirt, “I could use me some relief.” He grinned, and his other hand stroked his crotch, “What do you say we just get to know each other a li’l better, huh?”


Terrified, Sophie screamed, and the playfulness went out of the man immediately as he slapped her face and put a hand over her mouth.


“Shit, pretty girl! Ya ain’t gotta be like that! What? I ain’t good’nuf for ya? Ya thinking I’m jus’ some dumb ol’ hillbilly fucker, huh? Not man ‘nuf for yer perfect body?”


He stared into Sophie’s deep brown eyes angrily. She struggled to quell her terror and think. There was no way she was going to beat this man physically in any way. She had no weapon. Bottles of water and crackers were not going to save her. Her only hope was that someone might come in the tent and save her. Or was it her only hope? The man wanted relief. His penis was making him an animal. If he got relief, he would go away and forget about her. He’d return to his beer and music, and she could go report him to security. She just had to get his penis to go down somehow, even though the thought made her sick. She tried to project calm into her gaze, somehow quell the anger she saw rising in the eyes of the man that was on the verge of violence.


“Mmm Mmm,” she said, shaking her head.


“So, you wanna play nice, huh?” he asked, the anger dimming slightly.


“Mmm Hmm,”


“An’ ya ain’t gonna scream if’n I take my hand away, is ya?”


She shook her head. He took his hand away and unzipped his shorts.


“That’s a good girl.” He said soothingly, still holding her hand.


“You can… ” Sophie swallowed, tasting bile in her throat as she tried to get the words out, “You can... touch yourself... and I’ll show you... show you my boobs.” She spat and wanted to vomit. She felt sure that the situation could become violent at any moment, if she didn’t do something to defuse it.


“Go on then,” the man said, “Lemme see them pretty titties.”


He reached into his shorts and pulled out his half-hard penis, which made Sophie’s eyes widen. It wasn’t even fully hard, but it had to be at least 8 inches long and half as thick as her wrist. He stroked it roughly as her eyes flicked from his penis to his eyes, and then he grinned.


“Ya like that, huh? Nice’n big ain’t it?” He said smugly.


Sophie gulped and stood frozen.


“Get them melons out for me, pretty girl.” He demanded.


Slowly, disgusted, Sophie looked away from his predatory gaze and pulled her tight shirt up over her breasts. Her plain, white bra covered them fully, but they were majestic, nonetheless.


“Lord’n’heaven!” He remarked, “If those ain’t the sweetest set o’ sweater puppies I e’er seen!”


His penis got harder as he stroked it and stared at her bra-encased tits. Sophie prayed that one of the security men would walk in and put a stop to this horror. She couldn’t believe she was in this situation.


“Can you just, like, hurry up?” She asked.


“Don’ rush me, girl,” he said, “It’d go quicker if ya took off that bra and got down on yer knees. Pretend like ya liked ol’ Buck’s big willy, at least.”


He sounded angry, dejected. Eager to get this over with as quickly as possible, so she could flee, Sophie reached around and unhooked her bra. She worked the shirt off, dropped the straps, and then sat down on a little wooden stool. She tried not to look at “Buck’s big willy,” but the groaning man, stroking his length, staring at her tits, visibly drooling, was like trying to ignore a trainwreck happening in front of her. The sound of a phone shutter snapped her attention upwards, and she saw Buck holding his phone in his free hand. The fucker was recording her!


“This ain’t no good at all without some lube,” he grumbled.


Sophie opened her mouth to protest his illicit recording, and immediately realized her terrible mistake as Buck surged forward and his bloated prick filled her mouth. Sophie tried to shriek, but only a muffled squeal escaped her mouth as several inches of his sweaty cock stretched her lips. Even as she attempted to pull away, Buck’s hand grabbed the base of her long braid and held her in place.


“Ahhh, Goddamn!” Buck exclaimed, “Now that is some fine mouth.”



Sophie beat at him futilely with her fists, but it was like hitting a brick wall. Useless. He slapped her face, and she felt the hard smack of the phone against her cheek as he pulled a few inches of his cock from her mouth, and then pushed it back in.


“Jus’ you settle yerself,” he said angrily, “an’ you’ll do jus’ fine.”


Sophie considered, briefly, just biting his cock, but she envisioned this pissed off, bull of a man beating her senseless, and decided against it. She didn’t want to be found dead with half a penis in her mouth.


“Look up here an’ lemme see them pretty eyes, bitch,” Buck commanded.


Sophie hesitantly turned her eyes up toward him as he held a few inches of his thick, throbbing hardon in her mouth. Now that it had a nice, warm, wet hole to fit into, it had grown longer and thicker. Her jaw hurt already, stretched to accommodate Buck’s girth. Tears formed in the corner of her deep, brown eyes as she looked up at the man in fright.


“Now,” Buck said, “I’m gonna pull this dick out yer slut mouth, and I wanna hear you tell me how much you want to suck on Buck’s big ol’ cock. Ya got that? Do I need ta tell ya what’s fixin’ to happen if ya don’t?”


Sophie was confused. Should she answer yes to the first question or no to the second? She chose to stay silent and plead with her eyes, instead. Buck took this as acceptance, and his penis began to withdraw from her mouth. The head passed over her tongue, and then her lips, leaving a slimy trail of her spit connected to the angry, purple crown. Sophie sucked in a breath and coughed as she looked up into the camera.


“Ya like Buck’s big dick, doncha, slut?” He asked, grinning.


His grip on her braid tightened. Sophie wasn’t sure she could bring herself to say it. She stared up at the camera. He was certainly going to show the video to his friends. He had to share his conquest of the slutty girl with the big tits he’d managed to stick his cock into. Maybe it would end up on Pornhub. The thought of the big man becoming violent scared her more, though.


“Yes,” She said quietly, “I love to suck on your big cock, Buck.” She said, and then felt his bulbous head press against her lips once again. She, reluctantly, parted her thick lips and let him slide his veiny shaft back into her mouth. He held her braid like a handle and pushed her head further down his penis. Sophie struggled, opening her mouth as wide as she could. Tears began to flow down her cheeks as Buck pushed her down, until she felt the head of his prick against the back of her throat, and she gagged.


The throbbing cock slid back a few inches, and she tried to breathe, but he hadn’t withdrawn it enough for that. His aggressive manhood plunged back into her mouth and hit the back of her throat again, making Buck moan and utter something unintelligible. No doubt it was demeaning. Sophie endured the big dick poking at the back of her throat and tried to concentrate on just getting him to cum. That was what he needed. His penis needed to cum, and then he’d go away and forget about her. He liked it when she looked at him, so she kept her eyes aimed upwards as he masturbated himself with her face.


The camera recorded her humiliation, while Buck continued to assault her mouth. His thrusts became more intense, and Sophie knew that he’d forgotten that she was a person. She was just a warm hole to put his gooey semen into, her mouth the wet receptacle. She felt very small and vulnerable as this powerful man took her and used her without a care for her feelings. It was the antithesis of everything she believed in. She was supposed to be an independent woman, the equal of any other human being, male or female. Instead, she was being used as nothing but a cockhole, and she felt wet between her legs at the idea. She felt disgusted with herself, with her biology.


Buck pulled his slimy cock from her mouth, and she sucked in air gratefully. A river of thick spit poured from her abused mouth. The tip rested on her lower lip.


“Yer likin’ bein’ Buck’s cocksucker, ain’t you?”


“Uh huh,” she said, dazed, knowing it was what he wanted to hear. It would make him cum faster if he was excited and happy.


He grabbed her hair and pressed his cock back into her mouth with a “mmphf!” Sophie struggled initially, but Buck’s rough hold on her hair, and rhythmic stroking of his pole in and out of her mouth soon had her submitting, and soon her muffled protestations became a willing blowjob. Sophie had barely registered that he’d let go of her braid, until she felt his calloused fingers roughly pinch her hard nipple, making her squeal in protest and stop bobbing her head. He lightly slapped her face and she returned to suckling on his engorged meat, while he tugged at her nipples and roughly grabbed her big breasts.


She had no idea how long this lasted, how long she’d been sucking and slurping his big meat. Her chin and tits were slimy with her own drool as she dutifully worked his fat penis over with every trick she could think of. She had to get him to cum! The longer this went on, the greater the chance that he’d get tired of this hole and want to try another one. He was so big that he could easily pick her up and lay her down anywhere, then fill her up like a little sex doll.


“Fuck, this ain’t workin’” Buck complained, and Sophie was sure that her fear was about to come true. Instead, he put one foot up on the stool, between her spread legs, and she felt her head tilted back. Then, with a vicious thrust, his entire cock slid into her throat and her lips were pressed against his pubes.


“Fuuuuckin’ damn!” Buck exclaimed.


Sophie panicked. Her throat’s natural reaction was to expel the intruder, to stop herself from suffocating, but the gagging and glurking, the movement of her muscles only massaged Buck’s penis, giving him added pleasure. She stared into the camera, begging him with her eyes to pull his thick tool from her throat. He simply grasped her hair again, though, and began to fuck her warm throat cruelly. She couldn’t resist. It was a mix of fear, defeat, her feminine meekness, and her desire to just have it end. Her vision blurred, and she felt lightheaded as Buck continued to pummel his penis into her squelching throat.


When she felt like she couldn’t possibly endure another minute of the abuse, she heard Buck’s breathing increase. His cock pulsed menacingly. Suddenly, she could breathe again. Her throat and mouth were clear. She retched up spit, and heaved, sucking in breath. When she turned her watery eyes upward toward the big man, she felt the first powerful jet of cum splash against her forehead. She gasped in shock, and another sticky jet coated her plump lips, splashed into her mouth. His load was like a hose, spraying her face in forceful blasts of hot jizz. The semen only added to the mess of slime that now coated her face and chest. Her eyes were plastered shut, and she could no longer see what was happening. She could only feel the last few weaker spurts of cum as they landed in her hair. Then, Buck’s rough finger was scooping globs of the stuff into her panting mouth. Submissively, she licked it from his finger.


“Now, ain’t you a right mess.” He commented, as though it was unexpected.


“Can I have a towel, or something?” She managed to ask, weakly.


She felt a piece of cloth pressed into her hand, and she hastily began wiping the revolting mess from her eyes and face. When, at last, she’d cleared enough away to regain her sight, Buck was gone. She was holding her shirt, smeared with spit and semen. Bewildered by the whole terrible experience, she fished a bottle of water from one of the coolers and used the entire thing to rinse her mouth, then another to clean the sperm and drool from her face and chest. She couldn’t find her bra. How the fuck was she going to get out of here topless, and soaking wet?


She searched the boxes in the tent for something else to wear and managed to find another of the Relief Aid T-Shirts, in an extra small size. Cursing her luck, or lack thereof, she squeezed the shirt over her large tits, but the effect was completely obscene. The shirt was stretched so tightly over her that it barely managed to cover anything. Her nipples were prominently displayed, and her toned tummy completely bare. She decided she’d had enough of this fucking event and stormed out of the tent.


This part of the fairgrounds was a ghost town. She could hear the pounding rock music from some band that had drawn everyone’s attention. She staggered, shellshocked, in the direction of her sister’s car. As she walked, she began to see people, and they looked at her with disgust or arousal. She spotted a security guard and was on the verge of running to him to report what had happened, but she stopped. Who was going to believe her? She was dressed in tiny shorts and a top that was two sizes too small for her. She looked like a complete slut. Even if they managed to find Buck in the massive crowd of people, he had a video of her stating how much she loved to suck his big cock. She was, clearly, a liar. Girls who get mouthraped don’t tell the mouthraper they love sucking on his engorged penis.


She started to cry as she pushed past people in a daze, finally making it out of the gates, and stumbling about until she found the car. Evening was coming on. She sank down and put her back against the door of the car. Pulling out her phone, she scrolled through her list of contacts, looking for someone to call to pick her up. Her mother, certainly, wasn’t the call to make. She dialed through her contacts, one by one, trying everyone she thought she could trust. Finally, she reached the last name. Randy. She couldn’t imagine why she’d even kept his number.


She considered her choices. She could go back in and find her sister, demand the keys to the car, and get her purse and wallet out, so she could get an uber. That would mean wading back into the crowd in the tiny shirt, which was threatening to burst at any moment. She could wait until the event was over, and her sister got back to the car. That could be hours from now. She’d be sitting out, baking in the sun. Additionally, small crowds of people were constantly coming out to the parking lot to sneak drinks or smoke pot. Right now, there was a little group of 5 men who were already leering at her hungrily. She rounded the other side of the car and ducked down out of view, frightened. Lastly, she could try Randy. If he picked up, he might be willing to give her a ride home. With any luck, she could get into the house using the garage keypad and make it inside without her mother noticing her slutty-looking top. Reluctantly, she tapped his contact and dialed. It took only a couple of rings before Randy’s familiar voice answered.


“Hello?” He said. Wherever he was sounded noisy.


“Randy?” Sophie replied.


“Sophie? Long time. Uh, what’s up?”


“Hey. I’m, uh, I’m sorry to call, but I could really use some help.”


“What? Hang on. It’s loud.”


Sophie waited as she heard Randy moving through a crowd. Loud music thumped in the background. It sounded like...like the concert happening inside the fairgrounds. Could Randy be here? She supposed it was likely. It was a big local event, and he was never one to miss a concert.


“Sophie,” he said again, “Can you hear me?”


“Yes,”


“What’s up?” He said, slurring.


“I... well... I could use some help. I’m sorry to call, but I couldn’t reach anyone else, and I... I hoped you might give me a ride home?”


“Um, well, I’m kind of busy at that big concert thing. Relief Aid?” He said.


“I’m here, too. Out in the parking lot. It’s been a bad day. Could you please help me? I’m really sorry to ask, it’s just that you’re the only person who answered and... well... I really need to leave.”


“And you thought the guy you dumped could help you out, huh?” he sneered.


“Please, Randy. I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about that. I really, really need some help. Please?”


Randy was silent for a moment, and Sophie began to get more anxious. She could hear the group of men nearby making crass, drunken jokes to each other.


“Yeah, you know what? I think I can help out. You know I’m not such a bad guy. Where are you?”


Sophie tried her best to explain the parking lot, and then Randy hung up. After about 20 minutes, during which Sophie stealthily navigated to the parking lot entrance, Randy called back. He’d made it to his car and was driving around to the lot. Another 20 minutes passed, while Sophie hid behind a tall concrete sculpture. Then, she saw Randy’s big, raised truck rolling toward her. She cringed at the horrid memories of some of the things her younger self had done inside that truck. When the vehicle stopped, she opened the door with a creak of hinges, and climbed up the sideboard into the cab. Randy’s eyes bugged out of his head as she got in.


“Holy tits!” he exclaimed, taking her in.


Her long, light brown legs led up to the black shorts, which hugged every curve of her hips, and ass, molding to her pussy lips and displaying a prominent cameltoe. Her shirt, a couple sizes too small, strained against her large breasts. Sophie’s plump, soft, cocksucker’s lips were creased in a frown, while her deep, caramel eyes were filled with despair, anger, and resentment at the whole ridiculous situation. There was evidence of dried cum in her long, black hair.


“Don’t be a pig,” She huffed, and slammed the door closed, crossing her arms over her bulging tits.


“I like the outfit. If you don’t want men to admire your fine ass, then you probably shouldn’t dress like a slutty Hooters girl,” he quipped.


“I didn’t...I don’t…” she stammered, “Can we just drive, please?”


“Yeah. Yeah.” Randy said and threw the truck in gear.


They bounced down the dirt road leading from the fairgrounds, and Randy made sure to hit every bump he could find, just to watch Sophie jiggle.


“You, um, wanna talk about it?” Randy asked.


“No!”


They sat in silence, Sophie staring out the window. The truck left the fairgrounds and turned out onto a dirt, country road. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, now. The fairgrounds were several miles out of the city, and Sophie prayed that Randy would just stay quiet and get her home. It was not to be.


“You know,” he said, “I’m kind of doing you a favor, right? I mean, you dumped me.”


She sighed, “Randy it was 3 years ago. Get over it. Besides, you got plenty out of me, didn’t you?”


“Nothing I wouldn’t like to have again…”


“No chance. Just drive. If you want money, I’ll pay you back.”


Randy chuckled, “I don’t want money. You could start by peeling up that top and letting me see those amazing tits, though.”


Sophie flushed and she turned to him, anger flashing in her eyes.


“Fuck you, Randy,” She hissed, “you’re such an asshole.”


Randy pulled the truck over to the side of the road.


“Go on,” He said, sneering, “you can get the fuck out and walk, then.”


“But…”


He went on, “It’s about 25 miles to the city, and it’s getting dark. I’m sure you’ll be fine, though,” he snatched her phone from her shaking hand before she knew what was happening, and then shoved it down his shorts, “I’m sure some generous passerby will pick up a hot hitchhiker like you, right? Get the fuck out.”


“Give it back, Randy!” She cried.


“Come get it.” He grinned, putting a hand on her bare leg.

She slapped his hand away.


“What do you want?” She whined.


“Well, I was gonna be happy just to see those tits again, but now I’m thinking I could use a hand, you know?”


“No!” She stated firmly.


“Ok. I’m sure there’ll be plenty of carloads full of drunk, horny guys ready to pick you up off the side of the road. See ya.”


Sophie fumed. He was right. She contemplated a long walk through the dark on the side of a country road, dressed like a sex toy, with no phone. She’d likely die, or be gang raped. Probably both. Considering what Buck had just done to her, a handjob didn’t seem so bad. It wasn’t like she hadn’t done it for him before. In fact, it was one of the mildest things she’d done for him.


“Fine.” She said, at last, seething.


“Fine, what?” he asked, grinning.


“I’ll give you a... a handjob.”


“You can do better than that, Sophie,” he said, rubbing her leg again.


She sighed. He always wanted her to say filthy things. He’d loved making her say things that sounded slutty while he pushed his throbbing member into one of her silky, soft orifices.


“I’ll jerk you off.” She said.


“Better.” He acquiesced.


“Can I have my phone back, please?”


“Sure. After you pay your cab fare.”


Randy worked his shorts down and off his legs, then tucked her phone underneath his ass. Sophie gave a strangled little cry. Now she’d have his ass sweat all over her phone. Randy’s cock stood up proudly as he drank in her body. The memories he had of using her soft, pliable body in the past rushed back. He motioned her over, and put the truck back in drive, gently pushing the accelerator and pulling back onto the road.


Sophie scooted closer and wrapped her small hand around his hard prick. She looked away from his stupid face and slowly began to stroke it, rotating her hand gently around the shaft, caressing the pulsing head with her palm. Randy drove with one hand, rubbing her leg up and down with the other as Sophie stroked him disgustedly. He groaned as her hand worked his length, the warm skin sliding up and down rhythmically.


“That’s good, Sophie, but a little lube would probably help speed things up.” He commented.


Sophie thought back to the brutal mouthfucking she’d endured when the last man had said those words and felt heat between her legs. In her experience, men were all like this when they had a hard cock. All conscious thought flowed from their big head to their little one, and then it was just a matter of time before they wanted to plunge their spongy, purple head and veiny shaft into her until their balls were empty. Why did it have to be like this? She hated that her own animal impulses made her part her legs slightly as this asshole took advantage of her bad luck to force her into emptying his nuts. She loathed the fact that her heartbeat quickened at the feel of his penis jerking and throbbing in her hand, and the way her nipples hardened in the too-tight shirt.


She took her hand away, spit into it, and resumed stroking Randy’s cock in slow circles. Her fist tightened around it, creating a tight, wet tunnel for him to violate. Several minutes passed as Randy drove them closer to the city. Her wrist was getting tired with the repetitive stroking motion.


“Are you getting close?” She asked, trying to sound bored.


“You know better than that. Handjobs are a pretty slow way to get me off. Why don’t you-”


“No!” She stated firmly, knowing where that suggestion was going.


“Come on, Sophie. Just get your tongue down there and flick around the head. You know what it does for me.”


She did know. Sometimes, they would cuddle on the couch to watch TV. Inevitably, Sophie would find her head in his lap, his tool bobbing gently, filled with blood, pointing at her face. He’d place his hand on her head and firmly “encourage” her mouth closer to the swollen head of his prick, until her tongue would lash out, caressing the tip, teasing the underside. His hand twined into her hair; he then pushed the head between her warm, thick lips as she was made to gently suckle on it as he watched TV.


His precum wetting her hot tongue, she would lie submissively while he held her head and slowly masturbated his cockhead with her wet mouth. He’d issue a single, guttural groan, and then semen would gush forth into her mouth, and spurt out from between her lips. He really enjoyed coating her big, lush lips with sperm, and he’d usually make her leave it there, drying on her face the rest of the evening.


Sophie had always hated the way he treated her like a fuckpuppet when his cock was hard. It belied his other good qualities. In other things, he was really a fun, and kindhearted guy. But he was bitter about the breakup, even after three years. Clearly. Now, she needed to get him off, and just get home so she could end this awful day. She settled lower, into a familiar position, and looked at his spit-soaked cock.


Tentatively, she stuck out her tongue and flicked the primed, purple crown of his dick, eliciting a low moan of pleasure. She continued to swirl her tongue around the head of his cock, lapping, stabbing at it, swirling in ways that she knew would push him over the edge. She felt his free hand grope one of her tits, and she pushed it away. This was a mistake. Since he couldn’t molest her tit flesh, his hand immediately took a new course, falling roughly to her head, as he pushed the length of his penis into her open mouth.


Sophie glurked in protest and tried to pull her head back, but he pushed back firmly and held her, warning her, “Easy there, slut. You don’t want to run us off the road, now, do you? Just do what you’re good at. Suck.”


Sophie growled around his invading prick, and beat at his legs with her fists, but he only chuckled and held her in place.


“Fuck, I’ve missed your mouth.” He said, and gently began to rock his hips up and down, pushing his bloated meat in and out of her mouth. She felt tears of frustration well up in her eyes at how unfair it was.


There was no decency in the world. She’d been cursed, born with the anatomy of a walking vision of sex, and men would never be able to see past her beautiful shell. They’d look at her and see her pouty, warm lips, and envision her on her knees with their rigid poles buried in her throat, while her deep, sensual eyes looked up at them, begging to have their warm seed flowing into her welcoming mouth. They’d look at her round, high-set ass cheeks, and want to spread them apart and shove their angry cocks into her little brown star while she screamed. They’d stare between her legs, at that perfect little V below her flat tummy, and dream of the way that her wet vagina would envelope the entire length of their cocks in a hot, pleasurable sheath. They’d envision the pleading look in her eyes, knowing that the feel of their pulsing manhood inside of her, the veins and ridges of their plunging staves was bringing her closer to an orgasm that would have her squealing in the ultimate pleasure.


She sobbed quietly into Randy’s crotch, while her ex-boyfriend repeatedly jerked himself off with her face. Even worse than the violation was the wet spot forming in her tight shorts. She felt warm drool seeping out of her mouth, mingling with the frustrated tears in Randy’s lap. His cock pulsed and throbbed against her tongue, and she knew he was getting close. She hoped he was paying attention to the road.


Finally, that single, all-too-familiar grunt came, and her mouth was bathed in the first hard squirt of ejaculate. Sophie moaned, whether in disgust, satisfaction, or pleasure, she was no longer sure. The thick, salty load filled her sucking hole as she swallowed, again and again. Randy had never shot small loads. He pumped several hot, heavy streams into her before, finally, he was spent. He breathed a sigh of relief but did not let her up.


“You can just stay there until I drop you off,” He said callously, “I don’t want to hear any bitching, so just keep that dick in your mouth where it belongs.”


Randy cranked up the radio a bit louder, so that he wouldn’t have to hear Sophie’s pitiful sobs. It was another 30 minutes until he had her home, and it had given him just enough time to jerk off with her mouth once more before, wordlessly, shooing her out of the truck. He tossed her phone out the window into her lawn, where he took a moment to admire her bending over to pick it up. The last thing he saw was her look of dismay as she rubbed the sweaty screen against her shorts to clean it. He’d made sure to let loose a nice, juicy fart or two onto it for good measure. The image in his mirror, of the defeat, regret, sadness, and self-loathing on Sophie’s well-fucked face would be one he’d jerk off to many times in the future.



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