'No' is a Privilege, Not a Right

"Remove your dress," he commanded, his voice cutting through the music emitting from the busy nightclub two doors out - the door leading into the men's room and the door to the graffiti painted stall in which we were both cramped together at the moment. He was sitting down on the seat of the dubiously clean toilet while I awkwardly stood in front of him, halfway pressed against his legs and the closed door. Every now and then the sound would expand briefly as someone entered, the noise from the background dulling but not quite shutting out the sound of zippers being pulled down, casual small talk when acquaintances met, and streams of piss hitting the ceramic urinals lined up on the wall across from the stall we were occupying. It was one of those busy Saturdays in the beginning of November, paychecks had just been cashed in and the masses seeking shelter from the cold were absolutely wankered or well on their way to be, each attempting to empty his wallet sooner than their companions.

Not for the first time I wished I had been one of those limber petite girls for whom maneuvering in such a small space would have been considered child's play, but unfortunately, I was neither limber nor petite. Then again, while my 5'11 frame would make it difficult for me to kneel and pleasure him in such a tight space, however tempting the thought, I was sure my long legs would prove useful if he was inclined to let me ride him in here, the muscles bulging under his tight white t-shirt left me little doubt that he could handle the weight of my curvy body. I knew for a fact that he was infatuated with my fat ass and thighs and how they rippled in wave-like motions when he spanked them and slammed into me from behind, leaving them red and, if he had any say in the matter which he always did, marked for weeks to come. Just as he loved the way my 36E Cups barely fit into his hands when he squeezed them and used my wooden hairbrush to leave bruises all over them.

Although I myself had no strong feelings about my boobs or even my figure in general, I did appreciate the fact that despite their size and the slight downward tilt of my nipples, my boobs still stood perfectly round on their own. My own appreciation was of course mainly practical as I despised bras. To me, lingerie is something you wear for the sole reason of having it ripped off, not something I care to be dependent on in everyday life or, as it happened, today. Finally, although envious of girls with that gap between their thighs that I'll never achieve no matter the diet, the way my hourglass figure extenuated my waist, making it seem tiny in comparison seemed like a fair trade for a bit of curve on the side. "It is the perfect body for rope and whips, why would I have anything less?" - as he used to say.

"Now slut," he continued, pinching my nipple through my dress and twisting it harshly and smiling as I winced in pain, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through my body accompanied by that all too familiar throb between my legs. He knows I have a thing for being fucked in dirty humiliating ways in sleazy places. Without reservations I easily slid my dress over my head in one swift motion, leaving me naked but for my 5' glittering stilettos. As a proper slut, I had left my underwear at home as he instructed.

"That's my good little whore, obedient as always" His eyes narrowed as if to take in every detail of the sight before him and I stifled a longing moan as my nipples hardened merely from the weight of his gaze.

My shivers increased as he looked me over like a piece of property, my hands behind my back and my legs parted to give him free access when he ran his hands up my thighs and over my mound, barely even touching, which was much more intense than if he'd just grabbed me and forced his fingers inside of me, the anticipation was unbearable and it was all that I could do to stand still, biting my lower lip in an attempt not to moan, my clit throbbing as every touch made me squirm.

I wanted to reach out and run my fingers through his blonde styled hair and mess it up, I wanted to pull him towards me and kiss him deeply, oh God, I wanted to be impaled on him and beg for mercy and let everyone in the club hear.

Instead, I waited.

His confidence overpowering me, trapped by his completely unwavering knowledge that he owned me. I moaned as he slowly pushed a finger inside of me, one puddle inducing link at a time, bending inside of me and reaching that one special spot that makes my pussy gush uncontrollably.

"Please!" I begged him weakly, as he scratched the inside of my walls "Please Sir!" Begging a boy, no, man four years my junior, only 22, with that sense of invincibility that only a guy in his 20'es can possess. All consuming.

He looked up at me and smirked, 'such a control freak,' I thought, 'but then, what does that make me?' My mind dark humoredly continued without my permission. It was his main drive: Total control, and for that, from me, total surrender.

"Please what, whore?" He asked with an evil glint in his eyes.

"Please let me please you too!" I pleaded. I couldn't cum yet, If I did I'd be done for, my last bit of independence lost.

"Aah!" I moaned and my knees buckled under me, as he suddenly ripped his finger out, making me fall to the floor as he left my dripping pussy empty and aching. He lifted his hand to my face and I eagerly began sucking his fingers as he fed them to me, tasting my own sour yet sweet juices on him. He grabbed hold of my blonde hair which was just below shoulder length, and pulled my head back with his free hand while pushing first two, then three fingers down my throat and held me still. He obviously enjoyed making me fight my gag-reflex as he shoved them all the way in and held them there while I tried my utmost not to fight it even as tears welled up in my eyes, juices dripping down my thighs.

Why wouldn't he let me touch him? I needed it.

"Enjoying the treat, slut?" He asked, moving his face towards mine, gently licking the tears from my eyes.

"Mmmngh ye-nng aarh -" He laughed as I struggled to reply, making no attempt to ease my efforts.

"Not quite fair of me to ask you when you're like this, but I think I get your gist.

"Anyhow, I know you want to please me, but today isn't about pleasing me. Well, at least not in the way your dirty little mind is thinking. You know how I love to make you hate me, will you let me do that again tonight?"

His words both excited and terrified me, but I was a long-lost cause and the moment he retracted his fingers from my throat I almost stumbled over my words trying to get them to him as fast as possible.

"Yes Sir! How Sir?" Reaching behind him to grab the mysterious bag he'd been carrying throughout the night he answered me as he began emptying the bag.

"I've done so many things to ruin you over these past few months. Hell, most of the time you've begged me to. You're probably the biggest slut in this town and somehow, we've managed to keep it quiet." He made me sit on the toilet lid with my back to him "How many guys have you fucked on my command pig? Did you keep count?"

"134 these past three months, Sir." My cheeks flushed at the thought, and I tried to look down, but he grabbed my chin cupping my cheeks in his hand, effectively forcing me to look him in the eye.

"I'll have none of that false modesty. We both know that you're nothing but a cheap skanky bitch and -," still forcing my gaze upwards, he tugged one of my nipples between his thumb and index finger, and slowly twisted it while pulling it outwards, making me wince and moan as he stretched it, all thoughts of embarrassment washed away by the painfully sweet sensation, "- that you're never truly fulfilled unless you're being used like a hole whose only purpose is to spread her legs for anyone. Now, how many of these did you never even see?"

"I think it was 87.. no, 89 of them, Sir" Satisfied he released my cheeks and tit and I groaned in ambivalent relief as he reached behind me and cuffed my wrists behind my back. He then connected the cuffs to a rope which he placed around my throat making it, so I would slightly choke myself every time I tried to relax my arms behind my back.

"That's right pig. 89 men you'd never even recognize on the street who've porked you. You're so filthy even a homeless man should really think twice about dumping his cum in you, but lucky for you, no one cares to think. Spread your legs pig" I spread my legs on either side of the toilet. "No, not like that, in front of you" Obediently I spread my legs in front of me and let him shackle my ankles to a spreader-bar exposing my cunt which was now overflowing from his taunts.

"Tell me how that made you feel, pig."

"It made me feel dirty, Sir"

"No, pig," he sighed, "it didn't make you feel dirty, it made you dirty. Now tell me how getting dirty made you feel."

I hesitated briefly, trying to find the right way to describe the sensation that washed over me every time I gave up my body and my dignity. Why was it so hard? Actually saying the words felt a hundred times more humiliating than doing the deeds themselves. Like I let them become part of who I was if I said them aloud "I.. I don't know how to say it, Sir, I think it.. it makes me feel free?"

"Go on," he urged me calmly, knowing how much I struggled with owning up to the true nature of my needs.

"It makes me feel like I'm finally who I was meant to be. Like all the glittering layers of friends and education, work, are just stupid conventions I've build up to mask these.. urges."

"What urges?"

"The urge take off my clothes and never put them back on" I continued, loosening my inner restraints. "To be chained somewhere and used up, stretched, pumped and filled with no choice what happens to me, while I'm told what a worthless slut I am, exposed and ruined for everyone to see." My cheeks were burning and so was my cunt, I was so ashamed and aroused at the audacity of speaking my deepest, darkest desires aloud - and ever grateful that he'd made me.

It was true. Before him, I'd been a dirty girl, true, but on my own, I was never able to truly let go. He was the one who showed the release of relinquishing control to someone. Only then could I vanquish my reservations and become the whore I'd been fantasizing about being since even before I lost my virginity; who I longed to be. The more he pushed me the more I gave and the less I felt like returning to my vanilla life. It felt boring and detached, nothing like the intensity of being pushed into a room of strangers by him, naked and blindfolded, and not allowed out the door again until I was covered in cum and too sore to walk straight.

"There, I knew you could say it if you tried." He smiled approvingly. "Now hold on to that thought for the rest of the night."

If words alone could make me cum..

"Open wide bitch."

"Aaah" I said in an attempt to make a childish dentist joke, suddenly feeling lighter, earning a spontaneous completely disarming smile from him which, in the midst of all the humiliation that was driving me crazy with lust, utterly melted me. The feeling was interrupted however by the feeling of a cool metal ring being pushed into my mouth and the click of a padlock as he fastened the gag around my neck.

"One last look at those pretty blues," he said and looked me in the eyes before pulling a blindfold over them, leaving me completely in the dark. I heard a 'click' and felt something cold on my skin as he began to scribble on me, first on my stomach, then on my ass. "Don't worry," he reassured me, "I'm just identifying you, nothing more." I gargled questioningly and could hear the amusement in his voice when he replied. "Well, I suppose I could let you in on the fun. Here," he traced his finger along my stomach" it says 'CUM DUMPSTER' with an arrow pointing to your cunt, and here" I felt a finger on my ass "and this says 'TWO IN ONE, PLEASE' and on your face - " I felt him scribble a few letters on my either side of my mouth "it says: WHORE".

I sat utterly helpless on the toilet seat, my legs spread before me by the bar exposing my wet inviting pussy, hands cuffed firmly behind my back, my mouth forced uncomfortably widely open by the metal ring and my sight obstructed by the blindfold along with an ominous foreboding that he wouldn't just have his way with me, release me and call it a night. All my logic and reservations, however, were cast aside, burnt to a crisp in an alternate dimension, lightyears away, the moment I felt the rock-hard bulge of his jeans pressed up against my face.

He pulled away and I heard the sound of a zipper pulling down and suddenly I could smell it, slightly sweaty from being trapped in his pants for a few hours, but otherwise clean, musky and just out of reach. My pussy clenched tight and I felt a new pool of wetness forming under me as I desperately stuck out my tongue. He grabbed me by the hair and held me in place before he painfully slowly let the tip of his cock trace over my lips and had me lick his salty precum off them, leaving me panting with excitement. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he pressed the head of his thick throbbing cock past the ring and let me taste it. It was perfect. Thick and hard, making me gag as he moved his full 7 inches down my throat, slowly and with intent. The width of his dick overwhelming me every time he entered me, no matter how often it happened.

"I thought you deserved a reward for your efforts, now make sure you enjoy it."

He went slowly at first, maintaining a steady pace, and making me take it down my throat with every stroke while grasping my throat to help me open up enough to take his full length. I let out muffled moans, getting closer and closer to climax myself even without any physical stimulation. The countless hours he'd spent conditioning me to associate blowjobs with pleasure and his orgasm with my own proved effective. My nipples stood hard and erect and pleasing him was like pleasing myself. Even when he grabbed my head and began skull fucking me and loudly relished in my gagging noises, tears streaming down my face and drool down my chin, I was only brought closer, spurred by my awareness of my own helplessness. I couldn't tab out when I couldn't breathe, couldn't pull back when he almost made me retch, keeping his cock balls deep in my throat until I was visibly shaking, and most importantly, no matter how close I came, the climax I was aching for was painfully out of reach depending alone on his benevolence.

Finally, I felt him nearing completion. His cock hardened more than I would have thought possible and his rhythm slowed down just half a beat as he moved in and out of my mouth, pulsating against my tongue in long strokes until he suddenly withdrew, and I felt the first spurt his warm slimy cum shoot across my face, the rest he aimed at my mouth, landing on my tongue as he held my head back.

"Don't swallow! Let it sit on your tongue and taste your treat properly," he ordered. I sat still with my head tilted back, careful not to let his cum spill over, now even unable to make noises, as he wiped his cock clean on my face and nuzzled my hair, making me wait as he zipped his pants and packed his bag.

"Did you like that slut," he asked, and I nodded, careful to hold the cum on my tongue. "Do you want more?" I nodded my head even more vigorously, painfully aware of the insistent aching between my legs.

"Well, you look absolutely ravenous whore, I'm sure you'll get plenty tonight," he said, patting my cheek. "Oh, and I'll keep your dress and purse and the key to the gag-ring so come by my place once you find a way out of this little predicament." And with those words I heard him exit the stall without closing it, the boom of the music getting louder and then dulling as the bathroom door closed behind him, leaving me behind and completely and utterly shocked.

Everything froze for a minute as I considered my situation, unable to move, see or speak, his cum still lingering on my tongue in a nightclub in a district I wasn't familiar with. Oh, and writings on my body begging to be fucked. The pool of liquid spreading from my pussy grew a little wider. If only I could reach down and get rid of this need, perhaps I could think straight, perhaps I could wriggle my wrist out, or find some paper to cover me or - Suddenly a wave of sound hit me as the bathroom door swung open accompanied by two pairs of footsteps drawing closer.

"..Did you see that chick bouncing her tits on the dancefloor? She was just begging for it, I think I'll - Woah man, come check this out! Is this for real?"

To be continued.