Alleyman goes for your ass

"Now that you've so kindly lubed me up," he leers at you,"On your hands and knees, fuckdoll."

You test the surface of the ground; it's asphalt littered with bits of gravel. You glance at him uncertainly. "That will hurt," you point out, holding up your palm where gravel has embedded itself in your flesh from your brief contact.

"That's the point, cunt." He rolls his eyes almost in time with the casual slash of his knife. Still, he pulls a couple of pieces of cardboard from a strange smelling refuse pile. "Here, a comfy mattress for princess pussy."

You're trembling as you move over to your hands and knees on the thin pieces of cardboard. Still better than your bare skin on the ground.

Still, this position is telling you that you hadn't taken into account that not every **** will be satisfied with a moist mouth or dripping pussy. You're hoping you're wrong, but-

"Ever been fucked in the ass, fucktoy?"

Your heart sinks. "No," you whimper. "Please, can't I just- my cunt, it's nice and wet, you'd like fucking it-"

"I bet I would," he says cheerfully; you can feel him kneel between your legs as he hikes your skirt up over your hips. "Now don't move," he warns, and for a moment you wonder why he's warning you - you're not exactly struggling anymore in the fact of that knife.

The cold line of metal against your inner thighs stills your thoughts. He pulls at your damp panties with a laugh. "Well, fucktoy, I'd say you're definitely happy to be right where you are." You can feel the warmth of his breath as he sniffs at your cunt. "Yep, very happy indeed," he says, leer audible in his voice.

With a tearing sound the knife rips through the bottom of your panties, the flaps hanging from your waist like an obscene underskirt.

"Oh, that looks tasty," he murmurs appreciatively. To your surprise, he flicks his tongue through your folds, and you jerk in surprise. "Now now, relax, this isn't even the difficult part."

You can hear him give his cock a good tug, and it sounds painfully dry to you. You blurt out in a panic,"Please, fuck my pussy first!"

He hums a bit, clearly thinking about it, dragging his cock down your crack and brushing gently against your sensitive perineum. Then there's a cock pumping in and out of your pussy, and your arms wobble with relief. "Thank you," you say gratefully.

A wide palm smacks your ass. "That's right, be grateful, little cockwhore," he says approvingly. He slips out of your dripping cunt and you wait for him to return, only -

He forces his slicked up dick through the tight ring of muscle and you yelp as it burns and aches in a way the tiny buttplug you'd tried once hadn't.

He bends down immediately and wraps one hand around your throat, the other brandishing the knife menacingly. "I believe I asked for quiet, fucktoy?"

You whisper out a tremulous "I'm sorry."

He accepts your apology. "Good," he says, and lowers the knife. You think you hear it clink against the ground somewhere behind you, but the swift movement of his hands freeing your breasts from the shirt and bra you're wearing distracts you. "Nice," he says dreamily, as he gropes them, pulling and twisting at the nipples, moving them to and fro to sway in the wind.

Every painful pinch and tug on your breasts shoots straight through to your neglected clit. You can feel a fresh gush of arousal drip from your cunt even as the pain of your first anal eats at the edges of your nerves. You think you hate being fucked in the ass - which of course means your body is alight with pleasure.

You honestly don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing that your **** is rocking into you with such small movements instead of the skull-fucking you'd endured earlier.

One of his hands trails down to finger your wet pussy. "Oh, you, like this, don't you," he mutters. "Bet your pussy was already wet even before I grabbed you. Wasn't it, cunt?"

Tears threaten to **** you up, so you don't answer.

He gets annoyed. "I fucking asked you a question, cockwhore." And he grabs at your clit and pinches, so you sob. "Was your pussy wet before I grabbed you?" he demands.

"Yes!" you blurt, the unwilling answer roiling up your arousal.

"And why is that? What filthy thoughts were filling your mind as you soaked your panties through?" he demands cruelly.

[FYI I have a divergence in mind where Tilly spills the beans about the notebook in some fashion, but I'd like to write some of the other potential paths leading there first]