sex shop

Emma’s voice was hoarse, her body still raw from the carpark, but her eyes burned bright as she looked at Mark. “Take me somewhere else,” she whispered. “Somewhere filthier.”

Mark raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh? And where exactly, slut?”

Her lips curled into a needy grin. “A sex shop. Let me be used there.”

That was all he needed. Minutes later, they were pulling into the neon-lit carpark of a grim little adult store. The kind of place with blacked-out windows and the stink of cigarettes hanging outside.

Before she could step out, Mark reached into the back seat and retrieved a coil of rope. He dangled it in front of her face, grinning. “I'll let you put your dress on but, arms behind your back.”

Emma obeyed instantly, breath quickening. Her dress clung to her sticky body and the rope bit into her wrists as he bound them tight. Then, without hesitation, she pulled the blindfold from her bag and tied it across her own eyes. The world went dark. Her body buzzed with helpless anticipation.

Mark led her inside, guiding her like an animal on display. She heard the tinkle of the bell above the door, the hum of fluorescent lights, the faint thump of porn playing on a television behind the counter.

The shopkeeper’s voice cut through the silence, rough and curious. “What’s this then?”

Mark’s reply was loud, commanding, dripping with ownership. “This slut needs to be used. Properly. And I’ll take payment from anyone who wants to fuck her.”

A pause. Then the scrape of a chair, the low chuckle of approval.

And then hands. So many hands.

Emma gasped as strangers crowded in, pawing at her breasts, tugging her nipples, smearing fresh cum still drying on her skin. Someone yanked her legs apart, her dress pushed higher around her waist. She couldn’t see them, couldn’t stop them not that she wanted to. Every inch of her was exposed, offered, sold.

The first man shoved inside her, fast and merciless, using her body as the others jeered and paid Mark. Another man grabbed her hair, forcing her head down onto his cock, gagging her with his thrusts while the shopkeeper laughed in the background.

She lost track of time. One after another, they filled her, used her, covered her. Her cunt leaked continuously, her throat burned raw, her nipples ached from rough fingers and bites. The blindfold kept her locked in darkness, heightening every sound, the slap of flesh, the grunts, Mark’s counting of money.

Hours passed in a haze of use and degradation. She was bent over counters, pressed against racks of porn DVDs, knelt on the filthy shop floor while strangers finished across her breasts and face.

By the time Mark untied her wrists and led her back to the car, Emma was wrecked. Her body glistened with sweat and cum, her dress ripped and stained, her voice was ragged, her legs shaking so hard she could barely walk.

In the car, silence stretched for a moment. Then, still blindfolded, she turned her head toward him, lips parted in a trembling, blissful smile.

“Mark…” Her voice was weak but dripping with hunger. “Can we do it again? Soon?”

Mark laughed, dark and satisfied, tucking the thick wad of cash into his pocket. “Oh, slut,” he said, starting the engine. “You’ve only just begun.”