“So, do you want to come by my apartment after we finish up? Can play some games, and I’ll let you borrow The Witcher 3 since you like RPG’s” he asked her. Sarah wiped her forehead and smiled as she loaded up some stock.
“Sure thing, Steve! Don’t really have much planned after that anyway,” she said. He slapped her butt and then laughed, running off. She laughed with him, slapping and just missing him. She shook her head and went back to putting up some merchandise on the shelves. She’d only been at the store for a month but liked it. She mostly worked with guys on the third shift, which was fine with her. She never felt comfortable around other women, not usually. She was raised by her dad and had always been a tomboy. Also, she liked and thrived on attention, which was always easy to come by when it was mostly guys and she was one of the few girls.
Of course, it also helped that she had a very well-deserved reputation for being pretty free with her hands and mouth. She hadn’t fucked anyone from work, but she’d given handies to 5 guys and sucked off 4 of them. 3 of them regularly, of which Steve was one. All of them had pressed her for sex as well, but she didn’t really care much about that. She wasn’t on the pill and guys weren’t as good at getting her off directly as she was usually anyway. But the rest, that was casual fun to her, something she’d learned early would help get her attention. It always worked.
She also tended to dress for attention as well. Nothing too extreme or wild, nothing that would get more than appreciative stares from her managers and maybe one frown. Everything was just about a size too small or just a bit too form fitting, but still easily covered enough that no one could safely call her out. It was almost an art, that one. Same with hair color, bright colors were preferred, red’s and blue’s especially, but that wasn’t allowed at her new job, though she did have blond highlights to her red hair.
Steve was someone she had been enjoying hanging out with. Often after work she’d head over to his apartment, play some games, get stoned, give him a blowjob or two, then head home to crash. The oldest she’d have fun with was Mark, who was married and in his late 30’s. He often took her to Taco Bell for their lunch break. Of course, as soon as they got in the car, he’d be feeling her up and pushing her head down. It was fun, exciting, especially when he bought her stuff.
Michael was the last she played with regularly. He was late 20’s, quiet, but often shared smokes with her. She had jacked him off the most at work of anyone, always exciting to see him break out of his shell, cum, then both of them light up and joke around for a bit.
All in all, she was happy. She went out dancing a lot, but mostly, she was enjoying her workplace and life right now. Eventually the day ended, and she washed her face in the bathroom and sprayed some perfume on to get rid of the work stink, then grabbed her purse and headed out. Steve was waiting for her and she waved at him and got in her little beater of a car, following him to his apartment. She followed him up and he pushed her firmly up against the stairwell, kissing her hard. She didn’t usually make out too much except with Mark, but his kiss felt good and firm on her mouth. She briefly resisted, then relented, as his hand slid up her shirt, grasping her breast through the bra. Moaning, she pushed him away hard when someone came down the stairs. The man grinned at her as Steve pulled up along, up another floor and then into his apartment.
His roommate had apparently already left and as soon as they entered, Steve pressed her against his wall again, groping her aggressively. She moaned, reaching down, unzipping him, pulling his cock free as she stroked it. When she tried to slide down, her grabbed her hair and jerked her back up.
“OWww, easy,” she said before Steve kissed her again, biting at her neck.
“I want to fuck you, no more blowjobs, I know you want it,” he said, reaching down her pants violently, popping the button on her jeans, fingers probing at her wetness.
“Damnit, no…Steve, I don’t…” she tried to say when he shoved her hard into the wall, slapping her face.
“Fuck you Sarah. I’m tired of your prude act. You fuck around with all the guys at work, we know what a whore you are. Your cunt is soaked, and I want you,” he said, squeezing her neck. She froze, trembling, scared as he roughly fingered her through her jeans. He pulled out his hand and smeared her juices on her face.
“Suck them and unzip your fucking jeans,” he told her. She meekly opened her mouth and he shoved his fingers in, almost gagging her with them. She unzipped, shoving her jeans down, tears in her eyes. Steve was gone. The guy she’d always joked with was gone. An animal was before her and it scared her. He shoved her pants down to her ankles and swung her around, over to her couch. Without any words, he shoved her over it, then pushed in. Sarah sobbed, as he slid in deep in one thrust, smashing her against the couch.
“See you fucking tease, you wanted it,” was all he said before he started pounding into her hard. He gripped her hair and jerked it back painfully. She grunted as he thrust harder and harder, his weight and the couch knocking the air out of her. He bucked, shuddered, came in her limp and crying form. He shoved her off of him, slapped her ass and then laughed a bit uneasily.
“See, I knew you’d like it,” he said. “Here, let me get you that game.” He walked over to the TV, as reality set in. Sarah, for her part wiped her eyes, numbly pulling up her pants as white ran down her legs. He handed her the game and she looked at it blankly, unable to face him.
“We’re good right? Want to smoke a bowl? It’s ok, I’m sorry if I got crazy for a moment,” he said, reaching for her face. She flinched away and left, not saying anything. She drove home, walked and then ran to the bathroom before throwing up in it. She undressed and sat on the toilet looking at her stained panties. She cried softly as she masturbated, crying and slapping herself until she orgasmed. She then took a long scalding shower and slept until work the next day.
She went in, and Steve was there, with all the guys, chattering away. He stroked her hair out of her face, told her she looked pretty. She knew what he really thought of her now though. She learned in the first hour of work he’d told everyone that she’d fucked him. And all the fun at work, the teasing, was gone. She saw how he saw her, how they all did. Mark asked her if she wanted Taco Bell. She nodded yes, but they didn’t get any. He pulled in a construction yard nearby and started groping at her. When she told him she didn’t feel like it, he got angry.
“So, you’ll fuck Steve but not me, fuck you, you’re not better than me,” he had told her. A slap and a shove later and he was pulling her into the backseat. She froze again, numb, the playfulness all gone. He jerked off her pants and she let him spread her and fuck her without a fight. There was no passion, he just used her, bucking and grunting until he unloaded in her as well. They drove back in silence without food.
Two days later, Michael had her, against the rough wall, her pants around her ankles, fucking her. He came in her too, before patting her on the head and telling her thanks.
Each morning after work, she cried, and came as she fingered herself off to the abuse. She wanted to hate herself, but she felt numb, not even sick anymore, just numb. Not one of them had actually liked her. She understood that now. She avoided them for a bit at work, but she felt alone, detached. Lost.
And so, a bit later, as they left, she asked Steve if they could play some games. He nodded, and they did. After fucking her ass, leaving her in a ball, his roommate had her, leaving another load in her. She tried to participate, to be eager, but the anal had hurt so bad. But he patted her and played games with her after.
A week later, she was fired, for fucking Michael in the store bathroom. He said she initiated it. Steve said she could move in and she did. Of course, they played with her every day, but when money got tight, he encouraged her to start stripping. She did. She got all the attention then she could want. And more unwanted. Sometimes the club owner wanted her, and she cried, but she let him. Sometimes as she left, a “fan” would want the same.
And for the rest of her life, regardless of who or what they were, when they insisted, she let them. When they hit her, she let them. When they raped her, she let them. When they whored her, she let them. Always and forever more, she let them.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/dmjuya/she_let_them_mf_nc_prost