On the way to meet Mr. Johnson

Lexi looks out the window of the Uber, letting her mind wander around a bit, on what all may transpire tonight. She looks at her reflection in the mirror, her make up applied heavily, as per Mr. Johnson's request, makes her look rather slutty. In stark contrast with most of what's visible of her attire. At his request she's wearing a white button up blouse, along with a black, knee length skirt, and 5" stiletto pumps. The bra and g-string under her clothes a stark contrast with the rather modest attire. But that's what he wanted, and she had an inexplicable desire to make him happy.

She contemplated that, why did she want to please him? He was, quite frankly, a pig. He clearly had no respect for her, and he wasn't particularly good looking at all. Going by the pictures on his profile, he was fat, balding, hairy, and not particularly fashionable. Just the thought of him touching her was repulsive. But that, she had to admit, was part of the attraction. She didn't want respect, or tenderness, or anything like that. No, what she wanted, needed even, was to be humiliated, degraded. To be treated like a dirty little whore. Hopefully he could deliver.

She arrived at the shop, a sleazy looking establishment in a seedy part of town. She took a deep breath, bracing herself. This was either going to be an amazing experience, or a horrible one. Only one way to find out which. With that, she steps up to the door, opens it, and enters.

Looking around, the shop seems much nicer on the inside than it did outside. Clean, well stocked and maintained. Full of various sex toys, and various implements of a darker nature. Things meant to hurt rather than pleasure, to restrain, to push someone's limits. There were half a dozen customers, and standing behind the counter, eyeing her like a wolf looking at a lost lamb, was Mr. Johnson. She looks at him and smiles, but makes no effort to approach him. Following his instructions, she spends a couple of minutes walking around the store, as if browsing. Finding reasons to bend over, to, in his words, "Give everybody a look at the goods."

After browsing around for a few minutes, she makes her way to the back, again, as instructed. There she finds where he told her to go, the booths. A dark hallway with several doors, she makes her way to the last one, her breathing heavier, her panties growing damp at what she knows will be coming. She enters the booth, and there's a display monitor. She doesn't bother with that. She puts her EarPods in her ears, and dials the number, awaiting his next instructions. He answers the phone, and without preamble, says, "Down on your knees little whore, where you belong!" She quickly complies, nervous, but incredibly aroused, too aroused to resist, to aroused to slow things down. "Obedient, good. Just like a fuckdoll should be. But we'll see just how obedient you really are." His words increase her arousal further, as she looks up at the camera pointed at her, then at the hole she's facing.

The next thing she knows, a cock slides through that hole. Not unexpectedly, but the reality of it is still rather shocking. She knows what she's expected to do, but she knows that once she starts, there's no going back. She feels butterflies in her stomach. Intense arousal mixed with an almost sickening nervousness. Her body shaking from both. Part of her wants to take that cock into her mouth and do everything she can to squeeze every drop of cum from it. The other wants to stand up and run out of the store. She looks up at the camera, and back at the cock. Her eyes growing fixed onto it, her mouth hanging open. Mr. Johnson's voice breaking the intense silence, "Well what's it going to be, slut? My friend there doesn't have all night!"