The Devils Pact Slave Chronicles 10 Monica My Husbands Slave
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The Devil's Pact Slave ChroniclesChapter 2: Julie, Naked In The Park free porn video
Thanks to b0b for beta reading this Note: Mark's friend Karl asked for his boss Julie to be his sex-slave. June 15th, 2013—Julie Sumner—Steilacoom Park, Lakewood, WA
"Strip," Karl ordered.
"I thought we were going for a jog?" I objected, even as my hands grabbed the hem of my tank-top and pulled it up over my head. I had to obey his voice. There was something so ... commanding about him.
"You are," he answered, a grin on his bony face. "You were a bitch to me for years, and now it's time to start paying me back."
"I'm very sorry, Karl," I quickly said, pulling my black sports bra over my head and freeing my round breasts. "I was terrible to you. I thought you were just a loser."
"And now what do you think?"
"You're the greatest man alive," I answered honestly. "I love you, Karl."
"Is that why you're stripping naked?"
My hands were pulling off my spandex jogging shorts. "Of course, Karl. I would do anything for you."
A smile creased his thin face. I used to think he was a weasel, skinny and untrustworthy, always perving on me while he was supposed to be cooking. I was the morning manager at the Ram where he worked as the sou-chef. Then yesterday, I spoke to Karl's friend Mark, and he opened my eyes to just how great of a man Karl really was. Suddenly, I was seeing him for the great and wonderful guy he was, and I found myself in love with my thin, scruffy employee. I had a lot to make up to him for being such a nasty bitch, so I would do anything he said.
No matter how embarrassing.
"There are people here, Karl," I continued protesting, stepping out of my panties. "They're going to call the police if they see me naked."
"Probably," Karl answered with a shrug. "God, you are so beautiful."
I smiled as his eyes raked my tight body. At twenty-eight, I was in the best shape of my life; my breasts were round and supple, with dark nipples that all my lovers had enjoyed. I noticed his eyes dip down to the landing strip of honey-brown hair that led to my juicy cunt. To keep my my body nice and tight, I did cardio for an hour every night after work. Working in a restaurant, I was confronted by temptation all day long.
His hand reached out and a shiver passed through me as he tweaked my nipple. "Why don't you suck on my cock."
"Out here?" I asked, even as my body responded to his command, and I fell to my knees onto the soft grass. "Someone might see."
"Doesn't that make it exciting?"
I couldn't deny a weird, nervous thrill tingling across my skin—a static charge that electrified me from my neck, through my hard nipples, and ended at my moistening twat—as I pulled his jogging shorts and briefs down, exposing a squat and ugly cock that rose from a thatch of straw pubes. It definitely wasn't the longest cock I had ever experienced, but it was the fattest.
I had to stretch to open my mouth wide enough, sucking noisily as I forced the thick rod past my lips. He was short enough that I could take his entire length and it only tickled my tonsils. I felt so self-conscious as Karl started fucking my face—strong hands gripping my honey-brown hair; I felt like a blow-up doll as he grunted and moaned—sure that a hundred people were watching me be such a brazen hussy.
What if someone sees me that I know? Blowing a man in the park, even your boyfriend, was the sort of rumor that would dog you. It could ruin my job if my employers found out it was one of the cooks I had behaved so shamefully with. And I would be absolutely mortified if my father found out. He was a Methodist preacher, and he'd have a heart-attack thinking his daughter was some sort of pervert.
The more I dwelt on how embarrassing, how humiliating, this situation was, the more my skin prickled, and the more my twat dripped honey down my thighs. Why was I so turned on? It wasn't blowing Karl. I've never enjoyed giving a blowjob. It was something you did to get a guy to go down on you, or because you didn't feel like spreading your thighs and letting him stick his cock in your snatch. So why was this so exciting?
God, was I getting turned on by being watched? By being humiliated?
"This is what your mouth was made for," Karl moaned. "Instead of snapping at people and being a stuck up cunt, your mouth was made for sucking my cock."
Well, that was true; his cock just perfectly fit in my mouth, and it wasn't unpleasant when he fucked my face. I normally would never let another man treat me like this, that's for sure. Of course, I never loved a man as intensely as Karl before.
His thrusts became more violent, his balls smacking against my chin. They were heavy and covered in thin, yellow hair. His moans became animalistic grunts, primal, masculine, dominating. I was merely an object to be used for his pleasure, a living sex toy—a doll. How degrading!
My fingers found my twat, and rubbed through my dripping lips. I was so primed with lust that the merest brush of my fingers across my aching sex exploded the passion within me. I moaned about his cock, and clung to his hips to keep from collapsing beneath the rapture that blasted through my body.
"Oh, yes, keep humming," he panted. "You nasty cunt!" I was surprised when he ripped his cock out from between my lips. His dick bobbed before me, his fist a blur as he pumped at his cock. "Fucking hell! God fucking damn it!"
Cum jetted at me, splashing on my face and neck. A second blast landed on my tits and a third on my right shoulder and hair. I could feel it running thick and gooey down my skin. How much more humiliating would this get? I frigged my pussy faster, aching for another cum.
"I want you to jog around the park covered in my jizz like the whore you are," Karl ordered, squeezing his cock from root to tip, forcing out one last dollop of cum. It hung like a white teardrop from the tip, then splashed on my forehead, hot and gooey.
"Alright," I whispered.
My cheeks were flaming red with humiliation. I stood up and began to jog around the park. It was early, not too many people were here, but I was sure they were all watching me, judging me, thinking there goes the hussy painted in a man's seed and naked as the day she was born. What a filthy, disgusting, dirty, nasty whore.
The shame burned inside me, right down to my pussy, and unleashed a fresh torrent of honey that flowed stickily down my thighs. Why was I so turned on by being humiliated? The first person who noticed me naked was a man in black spandex jogging short and a yellow tank-top. He stopped dead, lust shining in his eyes as he drank in my sight. He pulled out a cell phone.
Fuck, he's going to call the cops. I'll be arrested and everyone will think I'm a pervert. I didn't want to do this—I was doing it for Karl.
To my surprise he didn't call the police. He started filming me.
I jogged by and I smiled at him, straightening to make sure my tits thrust out before me. Why did I do that? The man grinned at me like I was a piece of meat that he wanted to consume. He didn't see me as a human being at all.
"What a whore," he muttered as I ran past. "Holy shit, I can't believe that just happened. She's covered in some guy's spunk!"
I wanted to shout that I wasn't a whore. That I would never do something so shameful. Karl made me do this. Just like he made me blow him while he fucked my face. My boyfriend didn't care about my pleasure; I was merely an object to satisfy his lust. Something to be stripped, to be fucked, and to be forced to parade shamefully naked in front of others.
I was nothing more than his love slave.
As I passed more people who stared at me with disgust, with lust, or with contempt, that thought crystallized in my mind. I was his love slave—free of responsibility, of morality and shame. I was free to be his hussy, to please him and draw my pleasure from being used and humiliated by him. It was only fair after I had been such a cunt to him.
My smiles grew more bold as I passed the strangers and reveled in the lust my naked body generated. I was Karl's sex slave, and he wanted me paraded before the world so they could see just how much of a disgusting whore I was.
I passed a fairly attractive woman in her forties. She sneered at me, I puckered my lips at them. "Fucking dyke," she muttered, fishing her cell phone out of her fanny pack.
"I'll suck your twat right here and now," I taunted. "Put a smile on that sneering face."
By surrendering my will to Karl, I had found freedom. I didn't care what any of these people thought, I didn't care that they judged me. I was Julie Sumner, former ball-busting cunt turned love slave to my wonderful boyfriend. I was his whore, and I loved every humiliating second of it!
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