A Slut in Progress

As Emily stands outside his front door, her heart races in her chest as she looks down at her dress, running her hands down her stomach to smooth out any faint wrinkles. She wanted to look perfect for him. She’d had a massive crush on him for years, the man of her dreams. The day he had finally asked her out had been the happiest she’d ever felt. She had laid in bed countless nights over the years imagining a date with him. Her fantasy usually involved him walking up to the door in a jacket and tie, a bouquet of flowers in his hands. Then a candlelight dinner at a nice restaurant and a romantic walk in the moonlight as they hold hands, ending the night with a sweet kiss.

Instead, she was the one at his doorstep. While she did think going to his house on a first date was a bit odd, she didn’t think twice before agreeing. As excited as she was, he could have asked her out to go dumpster-diving and she would have agreed. She wonders what he’s cooked for dinner, and if he will like her dress or how she’d done her hair. As she knocks on the door, her hand shakes ever so slightly as her nerves bubble up. A few seconds go by, but her knock goes unanswered. She looks over at the house number, making sure it was the right one. A minute goes by, still no answer. Worry starts to wash over her, thinking he had changed his mind, that he didn’t want her here. A split second before she is about to turn to leave, the door creaks open.

Seeing his face makes hers light up. “Hey sexy. Come in.” he says flatly as he grabs her arm and pulls her inside. Before she even gets a word out of her mouth, he pushes her body against the door and kisses her hard. She instinctively pulls her head back, lightly bumping it into the door as he finally relents. Completely caught off guard, she looks at him with a surprised, pale expression. She had imagined their first kiss hundreds of times, but she never imagined it would go like that. He takes her by the hand and leads her to the couch, as she tries to collect herself.

“Aren’t we going to have dinner?” She says as sits down next to him, confused as to why they weren’t going to the dining room.

“No, we’re not. We’re gonna do other stuff..” He says matter-of-factly, his sentence trailing off as he blatantly eyes her body up and down. She sees him staring at her and her face blushes, thinking maybe she picked a dress that was too low cut or too short at the hem.

“Oh...Ok. Like what?” She says hesitantly, taken aback by his commanding tone. Without a seconds hesitation, he grabs her thigh and pulls her legs apart. She looks down, her mind having to register for a second, processing what was happening before pulling her legs closed. She looks up at him stunned, “What are you…..what are you doing?”

His hand never pulls back from her thigh as he pulls at it, opening her legs once more. “Opening your legs, obviously. I want to see your panties.” He says plainly, as if there was nothing odd about it.

She can’t believe what he just said, let alone what he was doing. “I….um….can’t we just talk..” She stammers. If anyone else had acted like this, she probably would’ve slapped them and stormed out. With him though, she couldn’t bring herself to stop him. He was the man she had been dreaming about all her life and she didn’t want to jeopardize the vision she had of their future together.

“No, spread your legs wide, now.” He says sternly. She just looks at him for a second, wondering why he was acting like this. In her dreams, he was always a perfect gentleman. She nervously spreads her legs as he continues rubbing higher and higher up her thigh. Pulling his hand out, he grabs the bottom of her dress and pulls it up to her waist as the color fades completely from her face for a second. Ashen in stunned silence before going beet red when he places his hand on her pussy, rubbing it through her lacy white panties.

“Stand up.” he says after a minute of rubbing her. She looks at him, still unable to say a word as she is completely and utterly stunned. Unsure, but still not protesting, she stands up slowly. In her head, she still naively hopes that if she goes along with it he will fall for her. “Now take them off and hand them to me.”

She swallows hard, nervously staring down at him as he reaches down and unzips his jeans. “I don’t know if this is a good idea.” She says quietly, as she watches him pull his massive cock out, already rock hard.

“Off. Now.” He says as he starts stroking his rigid, throbbing cock as he stares at her. Hearing the impatience and hint of anger in his voice, she worries that she will lose him if she doesn’t comply. She can’t risk that, she thinks. Reaching down under her dress, she slowly pulls her panties off and slides them down her legs as he extends his hand, as if he were a cashier waiting to be handed payment. He raises his eyebrows as if to say, what are you waiting for, and she hands them to him.

“Now get on your knees and suck my dick.” He says with annoyance, as if it was obvious what she was supposed to do and he shouldn’t have to even say it. She stares down at his raging hard cock nervously. Her heart flutters as she imagines how he’d react if she refused. He’d never want to see her again, she assumes, and that was something she couldn’t fathom. She takes a step forward, and slowly kneels in front of him. She looks at his cock, and then up into his eyes, as if to ask him if she really had to do it.

“Start sucking.” He says with a grunt as he reaches up and pulls her head to his cock, its tip pressed up awkwardly into her nose as she hadn’t opened her mouth yet. After inhaling his scent, grimacing slightly as he clearly hadn’t showered in a day or two, she opens her mouth cautiously and takes between her warm lips. As she starts bobbing up and down, he pulls out his phone and points the camera at her. Hearing the click of the camera, she starts to pull her head away to protest, but he pushes her head back down.

Opening up his group chat with his work buddies, he sends them the photo of her with his dick in her mouth, captioning it with a text, “Gangbang at my place. Come on over.”

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Emily continues sucking his cock despite the pit in her stomach from both the flash of the camera and his seemingly indifferent and unimpressed reaction to her blowjob. Looking up at him and seeing he is clearly texting, her thoughts quickly shift from worrying about having her photo taken midblowjob towards wondering why he seemed more interested in texting than on her. Despite her hesitancy, she starts putting more effort into her task. Sucking more vigorously, taking more of his length into her mouth. Trying to earn his attention and ultimately his love by sucking his dick. His hands no longer having to hold her head in place. She is doing all the work. Throwing her head up and down, trying to give him the best blowjob she could possibly give. 

“You like that, huh you little slut?” He asks as he puts his phone down, taking notice of her increased effort. His harsh words, though, pierce her soul as she struggles to understand why her dream date was being so cruel to her. Does he really think I’m a slut, she worries to herself. Her mouth slips upwards to the end of his dick. She opens her mouth, his tip still lingering at her lips. 

“I…I’m not a sl-” She begins to protest, but is quickly silenced as he brings both hands up to her head and shoves her face back down, impaling her on his cock. In one quick motion, he pushes her down until his entire length is inside her, invading her throat as she gags and tries to breath despite her nose being crushes into his pubic hair. 

“Shut up and suck my cock you little slut.” He groans while holding her head down while she tries in vain to pull off. Her hands flail up and she tries to push herself away, but he just holds her there. Choking and gagging as her face starts to turn red. Her eyes start to water and she feels light headed, on the verge of passing out, before he finally releases her enough to come up for a gasp of air, a dribble of thick spit trickling down her chin as she tries to catch her breath.

“I…I can’t John…I’m not a sl-” She is again silenced by him shoving his cock back down her throat, not giving her more than a couple seconds of a break. Again slamming her head all the way down until her nose is buried in his crotch, but this time only holding her for a second before pulling her head up to his tip and repeating. On each thrust, Emily gags and tries not to choke. Steadily face fucking her, his hands strongly gripping her head and using her how he likes. 

The tears in her eyes well up until two twin beads trickle down her cheeks, leaving trails of mascara that she had applied so meticulously as she tried to look perfect for him. They are tears of self pity as much as they are from choking. She just wanted to have a nice date with the man she had been dreaming of. Her prince charming. She expected a nice dinner, a bottle of wine, maybe some dancing. And now 15 minutes after arriving, he is ramming his cock down her throat.

“Oh fuck. I’m gonna fucking cum!” He groans as he shoves her face back down, this time holding her in place, his cock fully down her throat. She feels his balls contracting against her chin and then he moans even louder as his cock starts twitching, blasting the first jet of cum directly down her throat. She wriggles for air, trying to pull away, and as she does, he pulls her head back up and shoots another stream of hot cum, this time onto her waiting tongue before slamming back down. She grimaces at the bitter taste, but hardly has time to register it in her mind before being back to struggling for air.

“Swallow it you fucking whore!!! FUCKING SWALLOW MY FUCKING CUM!!!” He yells as he holds her head down, erupting into her throat and mouth as he shoves her head up and down, up and down.

Another trickle of tears glide down her cheeks, but she has no choice but to swallow. Gulping down a massive load of still spurting cum. She looks up at him and sees the contorting satisfaction on his face and instead of self pity, she feels an odd glimmer of hope. If she can just get through this, maybe he’ll fall for me after all, Emily thinks to herself as she feels his dick twitch in her mouth once more. 

His groaning starts to die down, and she surmises that he’s finally finished. As he pulls his dick out of her mouth though, he grabs it and gives it one hard stroke and it jets out one last glob of cum across her face, a line of white stickiness from her upper lip to her forehead, forcing her to instinctively close one eye. 

Kneeling between his legs, a string of saliva dangling from her mouth to his cock as it throbs in front of her face, Emily finally can breath and process her own state. She feels disgusting and used. Messy face, both with cum and her own drool. Smeared red lipstick. Mascara stained across her cheeks. And under her dress, for the first time she notices the warmth between her legs. A wetness in her pantiless cunt. A tingle that she herself doesn’t understand. 

“Fuck…” He pants as he lays his head back on the couch. Giving her no other reaction, she just kneels there for a moment wondering what he is thinking. Feeling the cum on her face start to slowly trickle down, she reaches a hand up and tries to wipe it away before it drips on her dress. Her movement stirs him and he sits back up, only offering the word, “No.”, to which Emily freezes in confusion. 

Through her one open eye, she sees him reach toward the other end of the couch where he had laid her panties after demanding them from her. He picks up Emily’s white lacy underwear and then starts wiping his own cum and her drool from her face with the garment. 

She feels dumb as he wipes her face with her own panties. Her cheeks go red with embarrassment, feeling trashy and ugly. He gathers up the mess from her cummy, drooly face and he holds the spoiled panties out to her, which she instinctively grabs from him, holding the mess in her hands as she inspects them.

“Put those back on now. Panties back on, but lose the dress.” He says flatly to her as she remains knelt before him. 

“B..but John they’re fil-” She starts to object before he raises his hand up, silently telling her to stop.

“Put. Your panties. Back on. And then. Take off. Your fucking. Dress.” He says more sternly this time. He can see the pitiful sheen of sadness in her eyes. Knowing how badly she wants to please him. He knows he doesn’t have to say it. The warning is unspoken. Do what I say, or leave. He knows it. She knows it. 

“O…okay…” She nervously says before slowly standing up. Her knees hurt as they stretch out after being on the floor for so long. 

He silently watches as she lifts one leg into the panties, then the other, and slowly pulls up the sticky, cummy underwear up until it meets her groin. She grimaces at the feeling. A strange combination of cold and hot, slimy and sticky, dirty and degrading.

As she adjusts to the strange sensations, she proceeds to grab hold of her dress and slowly pull it up and over her head. Feeling the air on her skin as she stand in her bra and messy panties while he inspects her body now, blatantly staring at her pert breasts that rest in their lacy cups. Her initial instinct is to reach up and cover herself, but she knows he wants to see. She forces her arms to stay at her sides. Feeling stupid and gross as his eyes drift downward to her stained and sticky crotch. 

“Go get me a beer. Kitchen is that way.” He says as he points his thumb down a hallway. 

She looks at him with a bit of embarrassed confusion, before slowly turning and stepping in that direction. As she departs, she feels a sharp TWACK as his hand slaps her ass as she leaves.  She doesn’t question him audibly, but in her head she is twisting in knots trying to figure if he likes her or if this is some cruel joke. She wants him to like her, maybe even love her. She wants him to be her prince. She wants to walk through the park holding his hand. She pictures it as she opens the fridge and grabs a cold beer for him. 

Returning with his beverage, she hands it to him and sees his half hard dick still out, resting on his jeans. He cracks open his beer and she awkwardly moves to sit down next to him, he scrunches his face angrily at her and grabs her roughly by the arm. “What the fuck are you doing? Your ass is covered in cum! You ain’t sitting on my fucking couch. Get back on your knees. Right where you were before.” He says as he points between his knees. 

Emily’s bottom lip quivers at his words, considering if she should just leave at this point. She briefly looks at her dress laying on the floor and then toward the door. Her eyes move back to him as he takes his first sip. She can’t do it. She can’t make herself leave. She wants to make him love her. Just do what he wants, and he’ll love me, she thinks to herself as she lowers back to her knees and takes her place back by his cock as it starts to slowly harden again.