Jess Ch. 02

She choked off a groan of passion, trying to keep silent, as their presence pushed her further into the throws of a violent orgasm. Instead of shutting off the passion, the danger inspired her. She wriggled her ass around his cock, pushing back onto him, wanting him to cum needing him to fill her tight vagina with hot sperm.

It was not to be. He instead withdrew and spurted over her panties. Her stomach cramped, with tingling sensations pulsing outward, throughout her body. It left her trembling. She continued to watch her friends, knowing they could look down at her at any moment. She was helplessly standing there unable to move.

If they recognised her they might walk down to see what she was up to. She was sweaty and her juices were running down her thighs. She was in a dreadful mess, and it would be clear what she had been doing. She would have to stand there with her ass sticking up showing off her used body, with Alan's cum over her panties.

Alan grabbed her shoulders to straighten her up. "Come on, time to get home," he said.

Stiff legged she let him pull her along. The girls had thankfully moved on.

"They didn't wait around long," Alan commented.

He knew! He had planned this dreadful exhibition. She was used to his devious games, though this was clever. He had arranged to meet them here, and when he didn't turn up, they had moved on somewhere else. Or, so she hoped. As they emerged from the alley she looked down the street, thankfully seeing they had gone.

She stood in the brightly lit street with people passing close, while he flagged down a taxi. She became aware of the little skirt still tucked up, and the wetness drying on her thighs. When she tried to reach behind her, to the skirt hem, he pulled her hand.

"Please, sir, can I pull my skirt down?" she asked.

She wasn't allowed to cover her ass. Most people were caught up in their own thoughts, too distracted to notice, though some glanced at the attractive girl then gawped at her panty clad bottom. She clamped her legs together to hide a bare crotch.

****

At last they were safely home. The whole ordeal left her hot like a bitch on heat. She squirmed with raw passion, needing him to hold her and take her, in any hole he cared to use. Just so long as she could feel him entering her.

Alan bent her over the kitchen table and she brazenly opened her legs. He slapped her ass eliciting a cry of passion. "Fuck me, sir, please fuck me," she moaned. He pushed his cock into her asshole. She was pleased to admit him so easily, pleased with the butt plugs that made it possible, without pain.

As he thrust into her asshole he slapped her ass cheek. In a free hand he pulled her head back, with two fingers up her nostrils. "What are you," he demanded.

"I'm your fuck slut, sir," she cried out. He had never used her so wildly and it was driving her on, to a fantastic orgasm.

"You're a dirty tramp, a worthless little slut," Alan shouted at her.

"Yes, sir, I'm you worthless little fuck hole. Fuck your sex toy, fuck your dollar whore," Jess shouted back.

Alan slammed into her fuck hole. He had her prepare it for him, and now had a perfect little, willing slut, to play with. It seemed there were no depths to her depravity, and he was going to make full use the stupid little slut.

"You can cum now you stupid bitch! You're my sex toy, my dirty tramp. I'm going to fill your ass with cum my little bitch on heat," he yelled.

Her whole body shook with a terrific orgasm, stimulated from images of her friends in the alley, the degrading words she spoke, and the feeling of her lover filling her asshole. It was so much more stimulating than the dildo in the restaurant. This was her lover taking her, making her his. It didn't matter if she was debasing herself, just so long as he was there, using her.

***

Next day she had to clean the apartment. Friends were coming over for the evening, which she wasn't looking forward to. It felt as though their private world was being invaded. She had been looking forward to a quiet evening, just the two of them. Especially after Friday, she needed to recover from the assault on her mind and body.

"You have done well for yourself, Alan," Mark commented. He was looking Jess over as he spoke.

"A good job, apartment and a, err, maid?" Brad said. Unsure as to their relationship he didn't know what to say. He was trying to provoke Alan into explaining.

She had been introduced as Jess, without reference to what she was doing there. Her demeanour wasn't that of an equal, as she obediently served them beer and snacks. He treated her like a menial, and she meekly accepted it. It was all new to her, for they hadn't acted this way before mutual friends.

"She's just a cheap country girl I picked up to serve me," he smirked.

They had been drinking too much and he was getting out of hand. Jess didn't mind what he did, in the privacy of their home, though, this was going too far. She didn't like it one bit. She was dressed in a plain dress, not too short, but she wore no panties, so had to be carful. He told her that is why she wore nothing under it, so she didn't brazenly show off her panties like a cheap slut.

He had been teasing her of course for she was too innocent, or had been before meeting him, to be so crude. Had all this sex turned her into a slut, or had she always been lascivious, and it was just waiting to be revealed? Had he seen that in her, and brought it into the open? If so, he was right, he had to curb her sluttish behaviour.

"Is that so?" Mark asked her.

Jess looked at Alan, seeing him nod, she agreed. "I'm just his little maid girl," she answered. Being treated like a servant then having to admit to it, left her feeling small and insignificant. He held out a glass and she went to pour a beer into it. He was the only one not drinking from a bottle.

Before she could meet glass to bottle, he dropped it closer to his lap. If she wasn't going to spill it she had to lean over toward him, and he dropped it further. Fortunately the dress wasn't too short though showing off her naked ass wasn't the problem.

She felt a hand between her thighs as Alan goosed her. So used to having Alan's hands up her skirt, she didn't react by clamping her thighs together. She felt a finger press into her asshole. The bottle slipped and she splashed Marks' lap with beer.

"Oh! Sorry, I'm so sorry," she spluttered. Swiping a napkin from the table, she rubbed his crotch with it, only to realise the mistake on feeling his hard member under her hand. She was on her knees between his legs, unable to stop apologising, or rubbing him, seeing it grow as her own shame grew with it.

Alan glared at her.

"I should put your maid over my knee for a spanking," Mark laughed.

Alan was silent, glowering with anger.

"If can't, let me spank the stupid little maid," Brad teased.

Jess scrabbled onto her feet. "Sorry sir," she apologised yet again, and scurried off into the kitchen.

Despite working hard at university, and working even harder to climb the ladder in a prestigious corporation, she felt small and insignificant. She had almost been spanked by a stranger. She was a humble maid, available to anyone, who cared to spank her bottom when she erred.

She wore no underwear under the cheap dress. Anyone could simply feel her up for she was just a nothing, a little serving girl, simply there to please her betters. If she didn't please them, she would be chastised, spanked like a naughty little girl. Perhaps it was a step up from being a cheap, dollar whore. The humiliation was torturous and arousing.

There was no way she could face them after this, so kept busy in the small kitchen. The dishes were washed, so she emptied a cupboard and cleaned the shelves. Hearing his friend's leave she still couldn't relax. Jess wondered how much trouble she was in with her lover.

"You let me down," he simply stated.

She could feel the anger percolating from him, like a coffee pot ready to explode.

"Come in here, leave the door open," he told her.

She followed him into the lounge. "Take that dress off," he told her. "Look at the mess you are in," she looked down at her thighs, though she could feel how messy they were. She had been excited, and flowing, all that time in the kitchen.

"You acted like a filthy slut. To teach you a lesson I have a task for you. Clearing away the beer bottles," he told her.

She looked at them, lined up on the floor, wondering what perverse punishment he had devised. He explained in detail what she had to do and it left her gasping.

Jess hung her head in shame for a moment then lifted it, as though raising her whole naked body to the challenge. Alan had yet again devised a cruel punishment. He enjoyed humiliating and hurting her, and somehow she had learnt to not just tolerate it, but get something from it. It wasn't enjoyment but some kind of perverse pleasure, definitely a sexual buzz.

"Get on with it you fucking slut," Alan told her.

Hanging onto a chair she squatted down until the beer bottle touched her bottom. Gritting her teeth she purposefully pushed down on it until the neck was buried in her asshole. Pushing it up her ass was no longer such a big deal, after all Alan had put her through.

She even enjoyed having her ass taken, but this was different. Pulling herself up from the squatting position she glanced at him. He was sitting back on the sofa watching her.

"That's it, tidy up the place, little worthless maid," he laughed.

She waddled with difficulty toward the kitchen knowing he was watching the bizarre tail, one of his beer bottles, waggle from her asshole as she walked. The kitchen door was open and he could see her push the bottle from her asshole, as though shitting it, letting it drop into the bin.

With a sore asshole she walked back into the lounge for the next bottle. So this is why he didn't demand she come back into the room to tidy up. She had mistakenly thought he was thinking of her humiliation before his friends and saving her form disgrace. He was usually so fastidious in his apartment, wanting everything clean and tidy. Instead he was planning this dire humiliation.

She looked down at the row of bottles knowing she had to clear them all in the same way. Carrying each of them to the waste bin, with a bottle stuck up her ass. What was so terrible was he had her doing it to herself. His friend's had touched these bottles, had their lips on them, and now they were being pushed up her asshole. That thought nearly threw her. His words, the terrible humiliation had started her juices flowing again.

Was this just a practice, for when they were around next? Would she be tidying up his friends beer bottles with her asshole? One would be intently watching silently with another commenting all the time, how tight her asshole looked. Would she be so turned on, she would let them find out for themselves – with all of them finding out how tight she could grip a cock?

In resignation she squatted onto the next bottle feeling it push up into her asshole. It was less painful this time. Pulling herself up was easier too. She didn't dare look at him, knowing he was enjoying this demonstration of his power over her. He was watching intently the waggling of the bottle against her thighs.

"Get moving you dirty little tramp," he told her.

She waddled over to the kitchen feeling the bottle swinging against her thighs, pushing open her cheeks, in a crude display. She was already feeling proud of the achievement. Unsure if he had debased her so much she was proud of this demeaning act, or had he released a nasty need within her for nasty humiliations. She squatted over the rubbish bin and pushed the beer bottle out of her ass, as though having a shit.

Knowing one of his friends had their hands wrapped around this bottle, and now it was up her ass, was turning her on. At last, the last one. She had a slight smile on her face. She had met his challenge and almost completed the task. This time as she squat over the bottle, it easily slid into her bottom. It was disquieting knowing she had been expanding her bottom inside. It meant not only her asshole had been enlarged, by the butt plugs also, her inner muscles had been expanded too.

She hoped her ass would return to normal, for he enjoyed it when she tightly gripped his large penis.

He leaned over her. "Well done pet," he told her. He rested a hand on her shoulder and gently pushed. He had only gently nudged her backwards.

As she rocked backwards her body weight settled onto the bottle. She slowly sank down onto it, unable to stop herself. In this squatting position there was nothing she could do to save herself. Her feet were squarely planted on the floor, with all her weight on the damn bottle!

Ever so slowly she sank onto it, feeling it taking her. With that type of bottle it became larger gradually, so there was no chance of stopping it. It was expanding her asshole, enlarging her hole, fucking her, hurting her.

At last she felt her cheeks rest against the floor. How the hell was she going to get up? Slowly and painfully she pulled herself up the chair until she stood quite still. He was looking at her straight in the eye. She was going to have to make it to the kitchen or lose the challenge.

Determination took over. With small painful steps she crept to the kitchen, no longer with a swinging tail, for the bottle was deep inside her ass. She stood over the rubbish bin once more. For a long moment she dare not push it. While her fingers trembled, and an eye twitched, she began to push the bottle from her ass.

This was just as painful as when it took her. Shitting out a brown beer bottle was terrible, though inevitably he would find more disgusting things for her to do. Was she so depraved that she would submit to them? She knew the answer and it helped bear the pain, as though it were a punishment for her debauchery.

Eventually the bottle fell from her ass thumping into the bin, clinking against the others.