Suck Cock

I truly felt like a whore now.

I was numbered and clamped.

I was dancing obediently.

“What a delightful whore you are” Mr. Khani said, smiling. “A positively delightful new whore.”

No I wasn’t! I was just a dancer. He must know, surely? He had picked me out to dance for him, hadn’t he? Hadn’t he?

I didn’t speak, just kept gyrating before him, swaying my shoulders, displaying my clamped nipples to him.

He pointed at the floor at his feet again.

Was he going to remove the clamps so soon?

That would have been a welcome relief. But as I sank to my knees before him, he unzipped his fly, fumbled briefly with the bulge in his trousers, and promptly pulled out his erect penis.

Oh God. I looked at his shoes and trembled. He really thought I was his new whore! Should I tell him his mistake? Explain the mix-up. There had to have been a mix-up.

“Well, my delightful new whore,” he said, pointing his erect penis at my face, “it is time to pay your respects to your new employer.”

I gawped at it, shocked. This couldn’t be happening, could it? I was a senior medical student who had only had a few boyfriends. Not a whore! He didn’t employ me, did he? In what version of reality was his penis my new employer? How could I be doing this? Was I really going to suck cock for cash? What was happening to me??

“Your new paymaster,” he insisted, waving his cock at my lips.

I didn’t know what to think. What should I do? Obey, or resist?

I must have known it would come to this. I was down on my knees, nipples hard and clamped, whore-panties riding up the crack of my ass, Whore94 marked on my butt. Was I really anything other than a cheap whore?

I deserved this, didn’t I?

Did they really have the power to ‘disappear’ me if I didn’t behave? Did I want to risk finding out?

Play safe. Be a whore. For now, at least. See what happens. Find out what I should have done later. Just get on with it. Be a good whore. Try to enjoy it. It’s only for a few hours.

I slowly took his penis into my mouth, not daring to look up at him.

“Whore94,” he said as I tasted him.

I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I came from a good family. I had attended a good school. I had a respectable job. So what was I doing making a whore of myself? I was worth more than that, wasn’t I?

Another whore suddenly appeared on her knees next to me. She started lapping at Mr. Khani’s testicles and running her tongue along the shaft of his penis. Our tongues met when I released his penis and mimicked her darting tongue movements across his sexual organs.

“Good girls,” he congratulated us, his penis stiffening further.

We lapped at him hungrily. Maybe he really was the son of a powerful man. The way the other whore was busying herself licking his testicles seemed to suggest he was someone important. She seemed especially keen to pleasure him, to worship him. I tried to match her frenzied attentions. As I buried my tongue into his sack I tried to imagine my life depended on how well I performed for him. Maybe it did? If I failed he could make me disappear, couldn’t he?

I was his whore. He had clamped my whore-nipples and now my whore-tongue was worshiping the whore-master. What a privilege: To be Mr. Khani’s whore. To be his slut. I had to make myself believe it. Just for a few hours.

He pushed his penis back into my mouth. I opened wide and tilted my head back, offering him my throat. My whole body tingled with the whore-girl fantasy playing out in my mind. I had fantasized about this before, hadn’t I? I must give myself to him, it was my duty. I was his whore.

He grabbed a clump of my hair and used it as leverage to thrust his penis repeatedly down my throat. I made myself as limp as I could for him, letting him fuck my face like a rag-doll. His penis was rock hard, throbbing.

I knew he was about to explode. He withdrew his penis; I feigned **** to let it go. He lined up his cock with my open mouth. This was it: It was to be my turn to be a cum-drinking whore. The other girl’s face appeared next to mine, mouth equally agape, and together we waited for him to shoot us full of whore-feed. We waggled our tongues expectantly.

We were eager little cum-whores, waiting to be fed.