Smutpunk on Skates Read online

  “Beautiful.”

  But he put the headphones back on. “Listen.” His voice was solid and echoed.

  Heather shivered in anticipation as she heard a man clear his throat. It was him on the headphones.

  “Baby, you know I’ll do anything for you. Moreover, I know you will do anything for me. Say ‘yes’ out loud.”

  Heather looked at him and said, “Yes,” with the headphones still on.

  His voice continued with a list of instructions. It was weird hearing his voice and not being able to see him talk, since it was so dark. Through the headphones, he told her to turn and face away from him. She obliged.

  “Lift up your dress,” he commanded. His voice was deliberate. Heather unzipped her dress then hiked it up.

  A flash erupted in the darkness and Heather felt very alone like she was on a pedestal in a museum somewhere—her curated bare ass, a relic that people could stare at. This floor was an old-fashioned movie theater, the kind with the little stage in front of the projector.

  “Get up on the stage now and pull those panties off,” his voice came over the headphones.

  Heather obeyed. She climbed onto the stage slowly. It was like she was in the movie and he was getting a private screening. She was up here all by herself with him standing in the aisle—alone, watching her hands slide down her sexy body to her hips and then grab the flimsy strings red g-string, lowering it sexily. She slipped it off onto the abandoned stage. Heather arched her back. She knew how to be sexy for him. She knew what he liked. He liked her to move sexily. He liked when she showed off herself, especially the two dimples on either side of her ass crack and the naturally hairless pussy. Folds of skin converged into Heather’s asshole like a throwing star, tightening it. Her senses were heightened by her loss of hearing.

  “Be sexy for me, baby,” his recorded voice said right into her ear. “Show that ass off.”

  Her big, juicy Asian ass was facing him, giving him a sexy show. She was looking away from him, just waiting for her next command via headphones.

  Suddenly he grabbed her and brought her to face him. Then the voice in the headphones told her to kneel down. She did as told and got in a submissive position. He took his cock and balls and dipped his balls into her mouth. She had never teabagged before and found herself feeling out of control, nasty, and turned on. He always found a way to bring out the whore in her.

  After she licked his balls for a while, he turned her around. She felt his long fingers over the supple skin of her ass, followed by, what she thought was, the tip of his cock against the crack of her ass.

  “I’m going to make her an anal whore,” he said aloud in the theatre, but Heather didn’t hear a word of it, courtesy of noise cancellation by the skull candy headphones, All she heard was, “You’re so sexy, baby.” He plugged a massive black butt plug into her ass. Heather took a deep breath and let her sphincter relax. His big toy seared through her.

  “Yes,” his hoarse voice whispered. “Wear that anal plug like an anal queen.”

  The flash sizzled a few more times, photographing them. And then that fucker’s voice washed over Heather like a Buddhist chant—like a mantra.

  “Say that you’re my anal whore. Say it out loud three times, slowly and clearly. Call me Master.”

  Heather turned around and tried to find him, but was blinded by the bright flashes instead.

  She started to repeat after him. “I’m your anal whore, Master.”

  The flash was disorienting. She had a big butt plug in her ass and the theater seemed darker and darker by the minute, the flashes being the only source of light. She felt cold and naked. She felt hands on her ass while she repeated “I’m your anal whore, Master” the second and third time, and then she felt a warm, stout member snuggle against her clit. It pushed around a bit and then found her petals, parted them and entered. It was pure joy for everyone involved. He fucked Heather slowly at first, letting his cock almost fall out and then slowly push back in while keeping her ass cheeks spread apart. It felt different—like he was a new man. He was softer, Heather thought. This new, shadow that fucker was superior. His cock caressed her rather than pounded. Her sopping wet pussy welcomed it. This was the man she wanted him to be.

  That fucker was enjoying the view of her juicy ass, the plug up her asshole, and the thick rod sticking into her pussy.

  Heather enjoyed how the cock entered her. He slapped her ass cheeks. He tugged her. He reached around and squeezed her tits hard.

  He was doing so many different things!

  It was awesome.

  It was different.

  It was exciting!

  She was cumming!

  That fucker’s voice came on the headphones, “Say, ‘make me into your personal whore! Pimp me out like a cheap, dirty hooker.’”

  Heather started to speak but looked up suddenly. That fucker was standing in front of her, even as her body shook from taking cock hard and fast in her pussy from behind. His prodigious cock was pulsating hard, and staring in her face, while her pussy was getting stuffed.

  No wonder it had fucking felt like a new person.

  It was a new person!

  “Say it, pig. That’s right!” he spoke reassuringly into her headphones.

  Heater looked that fucker in the eyes, licked her lips and said, “Make me your personal whore, Master. Pimp me out cause I’m your cheap, filthy slut.” She had come this far and her body was in need of an orgasm.

  That fucker stuffed Heather’s mouth with his fat cock while the stranger continued to pump her filthy, daikon pussy deliciously. That fucker would have raped her throat had Heather not been a hungry and willing cock-slut, willing to take two cocks—one at each end.

  That fucker was sharing her. Whether this was all for her pleasure or his, it barely mattered. Right now, she was their raw carpaccio and they knew how to hammer her into submission.

  Perhaps, she thought, that fucker was repaying the first part of a very large emotional debt.

  The deep voice came back as the stranger pushed his cock all the way up Heather’s cunt, his hands holding her hips, while that fucker’s massive dick violated Heather’s semen-buttered esophagus—his balls to her chin. He instructed, “Say you’re a cumpig.”

  He pulled his mammoth cock out. It buoyed before her like a battleship next to a skiff.

  “I am your cumpig,” Heather repeated mindlessly.

  “Stick your tongue out,” he said.

  Like a faithful dog, she obeyed her master. She felt awesome taking two cocks and being the center of attention, it literally lifted her onto a pedestal. It had always been one of her secret dreams!

  “Say ‘Misti is just a cum receptacle,’” he instructed.

  What?! Heather’s blood instantly boiled. “What the fuck?” Her pussy went nuts, vibrating and stuff. “My name is Heather, you fucking asshole! Get the fuck off me.”

  Heather slapped at that fucker’s leg, trying to push him away. However, she couldn’t move. The other guy had her hips in a vice like grip, while plunging his cock as deep as he could, inside her. Meanwhile, that fucker just kept pushing his cock into her throat. The madder Heather got, the tighter her throat became and his cock was rewarded with extreme pleasure.

  “Oh yes, bitch. That throat is so tight.” She could barely hear her through the noise cancellation headphones. He was no longer speaking into the headphones. He was right there, using her and humiliating her. “I fucking own you.”

  He demolished Heather’s throat, stealing all dignity, while the other guy came in her pussy and held her hips tight—like cumming had sapped him of all his strength. Finally, the other guy gave Heather a slap on the ass and pulled out. Her pussy dripped onto the stage.

  Heather, feeling incredibly horny despite feeling used, fingered herself. She was so disgusted, ashamed, and fucking hot!

  That fucker leaned over her—stuffing his cock into her esophagus once again, effectively gagging her, and pulled the plug from her ass. He
ather fingered herself to a thunderous orgasm as she choked on his dick.

  He replaced his dick with the butt plug in her mouth. The plug tasted sour and metallic. It was the taste of her own ass on the plug. She shook with shame. She shuddered with delight. Two loads dripped down her chin and out of her pussy. They fell in large globs onto her dress and the theatre floor.

  That fucker and his friend—who Heather never really got a look at, put their spent shafts back in their pants and returned the plug to her ass. They left Heather there on the stage to ponder over what had just happened.

  Liam

  See mothafucker, it’s not hard to pull a whore out of a wholesome office chick. It’s like turning the crank on a jack-a-box. What’s best is that before the whore pops out you already get her to hum a sweet melody on your dick.

  How do you crank? Are you serious, man? You start with small things. Get her to do little things for her. Compliment her. Tell her how great she is, how sexy, how smart. Call her little names like babe, sub, pet and then pull those names and replace them with slut, whore, pig as you get her doing dirtier and dirtier deeds. First, it’s a kiss, then it’s sex, then it’s sucking a dirty butt plug that just came out of her ass. Crank crank crank! Alpha Alpha Alpha. Pop, the whore’s out of the box.

  The Clean Up

  All she really wanted was to be loved. Was that asking for too much? She was attractive. Guys often stared at her tits when she walked down the street. Her boyfriends had always told her that she had a great ass and nice legs.

  Why can’t that fucker just love me? She thought. Why does he use me like this?

  Heather had cum on her face and on the front of her dress and tits. She stood up, and realized she would have to go back out in public like this. Perhaps, she could just slink into a taxi and go straight home, but still she would have to go to the main street to hail a cab. In fact, she needed to go back to the office and get some of her things. She had left in such haste. The blood drained from her face as she thought of walking to the office looking like a cum receptacle.

  With no other choice, Heather wiped off as much cum as could from her body and clothes with her fingers, trying to blend it into unsuspecting parts of her body like her ankles and elbows. She wiped some on the movie seats, but even that wasn’t enough. The more she tried to scoop cum off her the more it dripped. It was all over her. There was nothing she could really do about it at this point. She had a used, crumpled tissue in her pocket and pressed it against her chin. The tissue quickly became cum-soaked and useless. She had to admit defeat. She was cum rag.

  Heather got the bright idea to find the bathroom inside the movie theatre and clean up. She found the bathroom, alright. But the faucet had no water supply. She looked for toilet paper in the stalls—no luck.

  She walked out of the dark theatre and got absolutely assaulted by the bright sunlight. She shaded her eyes and shamefully walked back to the office. Every person she passed—male or female, stared at her. She must have looked like a cum-stained wreck.

  Heather didn’t know what to do. It occurred to her that she could sneak into the office bathroom. She took the stairs instead of elevators to avoid people and skulked into the bathroom. She hiked up her dress and tried to reach around and pull the plug out, but the handle was slippery as hell while the rest of it was dry and sticking to her insides. It hurt and it wasn’t coming out at all. She geared up for the pain and pulled as hard as she could, but all she managed to do was inflict a nearly overwhelming shot of ass-pain on herself.

  She had cum on her face, dress, ankles, elbows and fingers. How the fuck was she supposed to remove a butt plug? And it hurt! She wanted it out. She wanted it out now.

  She thought of Charlie the Wok. He was her only hope. She texted him.

  I broke up with my boyfriend. Come meet me in the woman’s restroom.

  Shortly after sending, her phone vibrated. She swiped it open, hoping the Wok would rescue her. Instead, the message was from that fucker. He’d sent photos of her on the stage. Naked—spreading her ass cheeks to take that fucker’s friend’s dick. The second photo showed her face stuffed with that fucker’s big cock. Another photo showed her face covered in his cum.

  She was furious. She wrote back to that fucker.

  Fuck you, We’re fucking through!

  She deleted that fucker’s message and photos.

  She found a new message waiting. With trepidation, she opened it and found a message from Charlie.

  5th floor?

  Yes.

  Is it empty?

  Just me, hurry.

  There was a faint knock on the door. Heather opened it.

  Charlie stood there, smiling. Then his look turned to concern. “What the fuck happened to you?” he asked. He didn’t look horrified, which was a relief for Heather. He had a placid look on his face instead.

  Heather turned to the mirror. In her disgust and anger at that fucker, she had forgotten to wipe the cum loads from her face. There she was, mascara streaking down her face, cum on her dress and face, not to mention on her ankles and elbows, to the boot. The cum had turned transparent from being on Heather’s skin for so long.

  Charlie was buzzing with desire. He already was infatuated with Heather. Seeing her wearing cum unlocked his massive cum fetish. He scooped the cum off her face with his bare hand and then washed the cum off in the sink.

  “It gets worse,” Heather said and bent over the sink.

  “Worse?” he asked incredulously. “Your ass is gorgeous!”

  She hiked up her dress and showed him the butt plug.

  “You mean better!” He laughed for a moment, then came to a sudden stop. “I’m sorry, Heather. Is it stuck?”

  “I can’t get it out.”

  “You mean you don’t always wear a butt plug here at work.”

  “It’s not funny. How would you like one up your ass?” Heather sneered at him.

  His smile vanished.

  “Come here,” he said. He pulled on the plug but it wouldn’t budge. “Hey, my place is right around the corner. Let’s go there and I’ll help you out.”

  “What about work?”

  “Fuck work. I am in possession of a gorgeous ass with a plug in it. I can’t think about work.”

  Heather and Charlie slipped out of the bathroom, exited the office building and walked to his apartment. It was a tower and his place was on the nineteenth floor. It smelled like Yu Choy and Bok Choy.

  “You can see our office from here,” Heather said.

  “Yep.”

  He led Heather to the bed and she swallowed her pride—whatever was left of it, that is, since she had already been found with a plug up her ass and cum all over her. She got on all fours and lifted her dress to expose her ass and its stubborn plug.

  He rubbed her ass cheeks. “Relax. You’re upset, so it’s stuck.”

  “I can’t relax.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  “Can you kiss me?”

  He leaned forward and she turned my head—it was like he was doing her doggy style—and they shared a deep passionate kiss.

  “You’re such a good kisser,” she said.

  “Relaxed?”

  “I think so.”

  He grabbed the base of the plug and tugged on it. Her ass was greedy with this thing. “Let it come out. Push.”

  She was scared if she pushed, it was going to come out covered in shit. Although they had worked together all this time, she barely knew Charlie. Of course, he had already seen her in cum today, but seeing her shit all over the plug was just too much shame for Heather. She’d then have to throw herself off his balcony. It was horribly embarrassing.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. He stroked her hair. “It’s going to be okay. It happens to all of us.”

  Heather started to laugh. He used the opportunity to really pull. It stretched out her sphincter and then popped free. It made a popping sound as it came out. She put her head down in the bed in absolute shame and utter h
umiliation. After a small death on Charlie’s bed, Heather lifted her head and looked at him with utter concern. “Did I soil the plug?”

  “Not at all.” He put it in front of her to look at. “Your ass is gaping.”

  “Take it,” Heather said.

  “Are you serious?”

  She nodded. “You deserve it.”

  “You don’t have to. You don’t owe me anything.”

  “I know I don’t. Please.”

  He got behind her juicy Asian ass. Heather was the kind of girl Western guys called a phat ass Asian girl—a PAAG. She could feel his cock press against her ass. He went in raw and slow. He pushed his cock into her gaping asshole little by little and caressed her back tenderly until his balls were against her slick pussy.

  Heather grunted like a pig. She couldn’t help it.

  “Am I hurting you?”

  She felt so close to Charlie. He’d helped her while she was in need. She still had two guys’ cum on her and he was acting lovingly toward her. This was a good guy. “No, it feels great. You’re so gentle.” The hairs on Heather’s neck stood up.

  “I just don’t want to hurt you.”

  Heather took this as her cue to start bucking and moved her hips in a sensual way. She was crazy excited and went with it. He clamped onto her hips to hold tight for the wild ride.

  “Oh my god!” he shouted. “This is amazing.” He grabbed Heather’s thick black hair like he was trying to tame a filly, but she continued flying around—her big ass was like a cement mixer on his cock.

  “It’s so good. I’m going to cum,” he said. “On your ass cheeks?”

  She really let it fly, trying to induce him to cum in her. “Inside me,” she said and let the cement mixer run on high until he held her still and shook.

  Heather could feel his cock bulge and then return to normal and felt his warm fluid shoot up inside her. He fell to the bed. Heather collapsed next to him, her head on his chest. He held her to him and kissed her. Then he licked her chin.