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Domination and Filth

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We had been out to dinner with some friends – just a casual night at a dingy bar. It was more his friends than mine so I really hadn’t wanted to go in the first place. Worse than spending an evening with his snooty, high class friends was the fact that I knew I wasn’t even getting laid at the end of it. I knew he had to be up early in the morning to get to the airport so I had no intention of going back to his place afterwards or any hope of him coming to mine.

A better boyfriend – someone in a different relationship than ours – would have known that I would be miserable and tried to make it up to me. But he wasn’t exactly my boyfriend – that wasn’t how our relationship worked. He wanted me there on display so I went: bored and annoyed at having to listen to stupid stories about Finance all night.

More than once that night he whispered to me to stop pouting. It was hard to keep a brave face – I had decided that if I had to be arm candy I would do it right. I had slithered into my tightest jeans for the occasion and if my hoodie was a little “downtown” well then at least it was designer. One of the perks of dating a successful, dominant man was that sometimes the things he dressed me in were really nice.

This late at night though the tight jeans were starting to bite into my hips and the “designer” zippers all over the top were annoying me. After four or five drinks, and a seemingly endless story from one of his coworkers about derivatives (seriously, what even are those) I worked up the courage to ask him to leave. He was a little put out at having to leave the bar but nodded his agreement.

He had a Lexus out front but I held out no hope that he would drive me all the way back to my crappy apartment. I got the sense that he planned to dump me and head right back to the bar, regardless of the fact that meant leaving me at the train station in a somewhat sketchy area. You take what you can get though.

We rode over in silence. I knew he was disappointed in my behavior. I was supposed to be his trophy twink, smiling at his friends and laughing at their dumb jokes. Well I hadn’t been in the mood…and damnit I wasn’t even getting sex for my trouble. He glanced over at me with a stern look – I wasn’t exactly defiant back (that would get me more of a spanking than Şerifali Escort I wanted right now) but I wasn’t contrite either.

When we got to the station it was late so the place was practically abandoned. He surprised me by pulling into the parking garage – I couldn’t imagine why, if he was just dropping me off. It’s not like he was going to ride the crappy train into the city with me.

If I was surprised by the garage I was shocked when he actually got out, walked around the car, and opened the door for me. He could be “Gentlemanly” on occasion but this was way out of his MO, especially given how I acted. I took my hoodie under my arm and felt for his hand – he had parked in a darkened corner of the garage and I had to search a bit before I found him.

I stepped out and muttered a baffled “thank you” when he spun me around and put my hands on the car. He pushed me over the hood, my hoodie sliding off to the ground.

“You were kind of a little shit tonight.” He said…but not overly harshly. “I expect you to have better manners in the future.”

I shivered a bit as I stood pressed up against the vehicle. He had never flaunted our power dynamics in public before and, even as deserted as this place was, I was a little daunted by the display. I always loved his strong masculine style (that’s why we were together after all) but I tensed up a bit at this escalation.

“I know why you’re being such a pouty little bitch though.” He said, caressing my head. “You figured all that work and you wouldn’t even get a fuck out of it.”

Well, he had me there.

“We can fix that”. I froze – not because I didn’t want (read:need) a good pounding but because I had thought there was no chance of me getting one tonight. I had been absolutely sure – meet him, go to the stupid event, take the train home for a disappointing wank by myself.

It meant, in particular, I didn’t…do any preparation beforehand.

I had gone today so wasn’t bursting at the seems but I definitely didn’t clean thoroughly. I wasn’t sure exactly what he would be walking into back there but I knew if I stopped him he would be angry, or worse.

Above all else I was horny though so I kept my mouth shut.

He reached around me and undid my buckle. The zipper Göztepe Escort came down tortuously slow and then he began to tug off my skin tight jeans. He’s a muscular guy but even he had to work a bit to get them around my feminine hips. Once those were pooled at my feet he hooked his fingers under my briefs and yanked them down too.

He made no attempt at easing me into it. My behavior hadn’t called for the gentle touch and I could tell he wasn’t in a romantic mood anyway. A quick squirting sound told me he had gotten himself ready and then the cool pressure of a lubed cock was felt by my anus. He grunted as he forced his way in – penetrating me with only his own satisfaction on his mind.

I frowned and felt around for a grip on the hood. God, he was huge and I wasn’t physically or mentally prepared for this. He moved in and out of me roughly: he could be an incredibly tender lover when he wanted to be but this was animal, visceral.

It wasn’t long before my fear began to manifest itself. I had done my morning routine but my bowels quickly alerted me that they hadn’t planned this to be a one shot day. His thrusting trigger my insides almost immediately to protest and now I had to suddenly concentrate on two things.

It wasn’t a lot but I could feel just enough moving around in my intestines that I knew this would get messy. The pressure from his dick combined with the pressure now pushing the other way until it seemed like a filthy tug of war was being fought in my ass.

He worked away, completely unaware of my predicament. I tried to contain the threat by clenching but that only encouraged him, which opened up new problems. I moaned a bit, hoping it would move him to finish up but he mistook my struggles for enthusiasm and settled in for an all star fucking.

I bit my lip. Pulled my hair. Pressed my nose into the hood. Anything to take my mind off the enormous cock shaking loose every piece of shit left in my body. My stomach gurgled as it tried to dislodge its contents and it took every ounce of will to keep it at bay.

Finally, after an age, I heard a loud groan from behind me. Normally, under those circumstances, I’d be upset about the idea of putting yet something else into my ass but I was just so happy for it to be over.

His Ümraniye Escort hot cum roared into my bowel and I felt him loosen his grip in me. As he slide out I turned my head, not wanting to survey the damage but unable to stop myself. Peaking over my shoulder I saw him slide the brown covered member out of my cheeks. He grunted in disgust as he looked at it.

“You know better.” Is all he said. Then, using my briefs as a towel, he grabbed his cock and slide it through the fabric, wiping the wet shit off on my underwear.

I stood paralyzed…mortified. At the scene, at the filth – at the fact that this man had just used clothes I was still wearing to clean himself off.

I glanced at his softening cock and the humiliation continued. A few flecks of brown remained on him and, while I continued to stand there bare assed in a filthy parking garage, he reached down and picked my hoodie off the ground. With one hand he used it to scrub the last of my shit off his dick and, with the other hand, pulled my briefs back up (shit stains and all) and gave me a pat on the butt.

“Filthy boy.” He said, tossing my now smelly hoodie on the car. He was already walking back to the drivers side door so I reached down and yanked up my pants. He didn’t even stop to watch me struggle to get them back up, just getting behind the wheel and starting the engine.

I stood there dumbfounded as he drove away. Dumbfounded and stinky. My pants finally made it up over my ruined briefs but there was no mistaking I had been into something wild that night. I looked at my abused hoodie and, remarkably, I felt compelled to put it on too.

The train was mercifully empty as I rode home. Fortunately the few people I did see didn’t come close to me and had no interest in making eye contact. The whole ride home I stood in silence, not chancing it by sitting down until I was safely near a toilet.

I had been used and degraded in way more intense than anything I had ever experienced before. It was humiliating but also incredibly exhilarating. My disgusting underwear pressed against me all the way into the city – a constant reminder of how I let myself be abused. The foul fabric teasing me while it struggled to contain my throbbing erection.

As I made it back into my apartment I took myself straight into the bathroom. I stared at myself in the mirror as I considered my evening. I saw a dirty, filthy boy – who was still incredibly horny.

As I jerked off in my shit soaked undies I resolved never to clean myself before a sexual encounter again.

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