The Guest

Spring 2003 – 22 yrs. Old 

I was on my knees, as usual.

I was kneeling at the edge of my bed, sweat pouring off me as Miguel stood behind me rapidly thrusting his ten inch cock into my ass. He’d been away for a couple of weeks and was fucking me any chance he got. This was the fourth time he’d taken me tonight! He was hammering my ass hard. And he showed no sign of letting up. Silve, his wife, probably hadn’t let him near her when he was home. Silve was still very beautiful and fucked like a mink. It seemed to be a running battle between us as to who could fuck Miguel the best: his always willing wife, or his little tranny whore. She must have been in an unusually bitchy mood this last visit.

The only time I’d been out of the apartment the past two weeks was to attend classes. Since Miguel was paying for my education, he insisted I keep my grades up. Difficult to do when he wanted to fuck me all the time. Don’t get me wrong! I’m a cock slut and am usually my happiest when I have a cock in my mouth, or buried in my ass. But I do need a rest, sometimes. Earlier in the week, Miguel had me bent over the table while I was trying to write a paper!

Usually, Miguel takes me out on the town when he’s here. He gets aroused by other men admiring me. I was always dressed to show off my body. Expensive, slutty dresses. This time, I was suppose to be naked when back at the apartment, ready to be a very grateful, and completely subservient mistress. This was easy enough: Not only am I a slut, I’m a totally submissive bottom.

The romance of our situation had faded, but I was okay with that. I wasn’t treated badly. Some of their demands bordered on abusive, even a little humiliating, but it was worth it. I even liked much of the roughness.

I had it good. I had a fantastic place to live. My rent was paid on my old place. I was getting a college education. I had the finest, beautiful evening wear. I had beautiful jewelry. I had servants to attend to my needs. I even had the freedom to fuck other men whenever Miguel and Silve were away! Plus, I was getting all the cock I could want.

I hadn’t seen Mama Rosa during this period. Felipe, her husband, and Miguel’s manservant, discreetly delivered meals, picked up laundry, and attended to Miguel. I’d recently started seeing to Miguel’s clothes being put away properly. I even polished his shoes. Miguel enjoyed seeing his naked mistress performing these tasks.

Miguel had very strong sexual appetites. Silve called him her Spanish Bull! He had remarkable self control. He could fuck all night several nights in a row, if he wanted. He could come several times, recharging rapidly, or hold off coming until he was ready to stop for the night. His control was equal parts Latin Machismo and domination. All his lovers were worn out before he was finished with them. And he would keep fucking to remind them who was boss!

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As I’d said earlier, Miguel was fucking me for the fourth time this night. The first two times he took me was face to face. This was more like lovers, but still wildly animalistic, with me biting and scratching. When he finished the second time, he rolled me onto my stomach and thrust long and deep. The fucking got rougher as he reached around to pinch my nipples and bite my neck. He rode me about thirty minutes. After a break rest, he pulled me to my knees and stood behind me and held my waist tightly as he quickly rammed his big cock into my now tender ass.

Miguel had been riding me over an hour, this time. He was wearing his cock strap. He paid for me, he was going to get his money’s worth from me. I don’t feel as if I’d been sufficiently fucked unless my ass was painfully sore. I got my wish: I’d been in tears this entire ride! My personal pleasure meant absolutely nothing to him at this point. When he came, he rapidly pushed me away and went to shower. I just lay on the sweaty cum-covered sheets.

When he returned, he looked down at his cock, then back at me. Time to be a good little whore and suck him. I wouldn’t know for a half hour whether I was to finish him with my mouth, or spread my legs again. Either way, I would be exhausted. And he’d go to his room and sleep like a baby, while I cleaned up my bed.

Miguel lay back on my bed. He still had on his cock strap. Damn! I was going to have to ride him. I would have to work him extra hard to make him come, now. I rested my hands on his waist as I ground against him. His hands were laced behind his head. This was mistress earning her keep time. O fcourse, I’m going to do my best to satisfy him. I had no idea when he might tire of me and bring in someone fresh.

“I will be going home tomorrow,” he informed me. I will be gone three weeks. I promise to take you out every night next visit.”

I smiled appreciatively and continued riding. 

“An old friend will be coming to town next week. I’d like you to entertain him while he’s in town.” Meaning: be a good slut and make him feel like a powerful stud bull.

He’d never asked that of me before!. Was he tiring of me? Would I be trying out for a new position? Was I doing something wrong? I never, ever, said no to Miguel. I knelt naked in a elevator and sucked his cock while other riders watched. I was bent over the hood of his car in a parking garage, dressed raised above my ass as he rammed his cock into me. The long and short of it was best expressed by the tattoo above my ass crack: Always Open, Always Yes.

Miguel left specific instructions on how to behave for his friend. I knew what he ate, what he drank, his sexual preferences. How to address him. Things I already did regularly for Miguel. With Mrs. Garza’s help, I kept the right liquors available, I had the right snacks handy. Mr. Garza taught me some of his valet secrets. I was the perfect mistress. Knowledgeable, discreet, and willing. 

All I knew was to address him as Senor Montoya, or just Senor.. I would speak only when addressed. 

Part of my desirability lay in the fact that, while I was in my early twenties, I still came across as a girl in her late teens. I appeared vulnerable. I knew how to play Daddy’s Little Girl. I had the stuffed animal, and bows for my pigtails. Miguel, like many other older men who’d fucked me, wanted a lover the age of

their daughters. Many desired their daughter’s girl friends, but couldn’t act on their fantasies. I figured Sr. Montoya was one of those types. Miguel had explained my school situation to Sr. M: I would have no problems there. If anything, being a schoolgirl added to my allure. Miguel bought me a couple of schoolgirl outfits. I would change into them in the Garza’s apartment before I entered Miguel’s suite.

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Sr. M was waiting for me in the apartment, sitting on the sofa, when I came home from school. I laid my book bag on the bar and smiled sweetly.

“You’re late!” he growled.

I put a finger to the corner of my mouth and bit a nail, giving him my best Sex Kitten pout. I shifted back and forth on my toes, giving him different views of my slender body. He could just make out the nipples of my small breasts through my sheer blouse. I could see desire written all ove rhis face. Sr. M motioned me over, then pulled me across his lap. He lifted my skirt, pulled down my skimpy panties and proceeded to spank me with a hairbrush he’d hidden between the sofa cushions. I howled in pain.

“I’m sorry, Daddy!” I cried. “I won’t be late again! I’ll be good! I promise!”

Sr. M laid the brush down and used his hand, fondling my red bottom between swats. He continued fondling me well after he stopped swatting. I was beginning to get aroused from his caresses. He gave me one last hard swat and ordered me to fix him a drink. He was rubbing his crotch through his slacks when I returned.

I started to kneel and free his cock, but he stopped me with a frown. I took a chance and slowly removed my top. His slight nod told me I’d guessed correctly. I started to slide out of my skirt, but he had the hairbrush and was slapping his hand. If I guessed incorrectly, I would feel it on my bottom again. I turned with my back to him and wiggled my ass as I slid my skirt down over my hips and let it fall to the floor. I bent over and slid my skimpy panties down. Giving him a nice view of my red bottom. I slowly stood allowing him to gaze upon my slender form.

I turned to face him, giving him his first glimpse of my small cock. Sr. M nodded approvingly and motioned me to him. I walked slowly and sensuously, an exaggerated sway to my hips. I tilted my head down slightly and looked up to him.

“Young lady!” he growled. “How dare you prance around naked in front of me?”

I gave him a sexy pout, but he pulled me across his lap again. I resisted as he once again took the hair brush to my bottom. I resisted, knowing that was expected of me, and knowing it would be futile. Mr. M was strong and knew just how to subdue me. My tears were real. Sr. M walloped my ass very hard.

“Please, Daddy! Don’t!” I screamed. “I’m sorry.”

Sr. M only laughed, and said, “Oh, yes, little boy, you'll lbe very sorry before I’m through with you.”

Little boy?

“A sissy boy pretending to be a girl,” he said. “You must want my cock in you’re ass very bad!”

I was worried, now. I’d heard how some men felt about Sissy Boys. They were just things to be fucked hard, treated any way a “real” man chose. I wasn’t a sissy boy, I was a woman, but I was stuck for the moment. If I wanted to continue being Miguel’s mistress, I had to humor this sadistic master. Master! I hadn’t felt like a sex slave before, but I didn’t know what else I could be!

When Sr. M tired off spanking my bottom he pushed me to the floor. I kneeled, looking at his feet. He decided he needed a new drink and went to the bar. From the bar, he could see my back and the roundness of my red bottom. He also drank in my subjection.

He stood right in front of my face when he returned. I looked up with the proper fear and respect on my tear streaked face. He smiled contemptuously as I ran my hands along his crotch, his bulge forming inside his pants. I carefully worked his zipper down and freed his cock. His cock was about six inches and thick. I’d handled much larger, but I would act like it was the biggest cock I’d ever taken. He wanted to humiliate me: I’d give him a good show.

“You wanted Daddy’s dick. Now be a good little girl and suck it,” he hit his palm warningly with the hair brush. “Suck it good.”

I knew from his tone, he wouldn’t think my blowjob was good enough. He wanted another reason to beat me. I took my time sucking him, running my hands along his sides and legs. I pulled his shirt free from his pants and ran my hands inside it up his chest. He moaned in pleasure, but I knew the spanking was not far off. 

I must admit, I was turned on, though. I find it incredibly sexy to give head to a man who is still dressed. As I said, I’m a submissive cock whore. I do love cock, and can’t get enough. I even like pain, but Sr. M  was taking me farther than I’d yet been. Farther than I really wanted to go! I was afraid, and Sr. M was excited by my fear!

When he came, Sr. M pulled my head close, forcing his cock into my throat. The hairbrush was against my back, a reminder of what was coming. I heard him chuckle as I choked on his bitter fluids. He thrust into my mouth, fucking my throat until I nearly passed out!

After he finished with my throat, he ordered me to stand, hands behind my back. He roughly twisted my nipples bringing tears to my eyes. Sr. M grew more excited seeing fresh tears. He reached between my legs and grabbed my balls (I still had them at this time) and squeezed hard. He licked his lips, almost tasting the pain I showed on my face. He let go suddenly and stepped back. He dropped the hairbrush on the couch.

“Undress me!!”

I removed hid coat and shirt, carefully draping them over he backs of the bar stools, folding his tie neatly. I knelt and removed his shoes and placed the socks inside them. I pulled his belt from the loops and laid it across his outstretched hand. My heart sank at that. I resigned myself  to a harsher beating, later. After I pulled his pants and boxers past his cock,I took his manhood back into my mouth and sucked. I was able to keep it in my mouth while I slid his pants off. I even managed to neatly fold his slacks and boxers and lay them to one side.

Sr. M grabbed my head and fucked my throat again. Since he wasn’t yet hard, it didn’t hurt as bad, but I still choked and couldn’t breathe. He wasn’t getting hard and I could see anger building. He pushed me away and ordered me to bend over the table. I heard the whistle of the belt as it slashed through the air and felt the first painful hit across the back of my thighs. I screamed.

“Daddy, please! I’ve been a good girl! I did everything you wanted! Please, I’ll do better! I’ll be good! I promise, Daddy, I’ll be good!”

Sr. M’s cock stiffened as he beat me. I could hear his laugh as he covered my bottom and thighs with angry, painful red welts. I had classes the next day! How would I be able to sit! The hits got lighter as he tired, but I still flinched and squirmed with every blow. Miguel! How have I displeased you that you’d let someone do this to me??

Sr. M ordered me facedown on my bed. He wrenched my legs apart  and forced his cock into my asshole. Since he hadn’t lubed, his cock hurt just as bad as Miguel’s when it entered me. Dominating me turned this man on. He got off to power and inflicting pain. And on top of that, he wasn’t even a good fuck!

“Please, Daddy! Don’t do this! It hurts! It hurts so bad! Please, Stop!!”

I could tell this was what he wanted to hear. His thrusts grew rapid. He ground painfully against my raw bottom. But he would need more before he would come. He needed my complete submission!

“Oooohhh, Daaadddy! This feels sooo goood!” I moaned. “Please, Daddy, fuck me! Fuck me hard!”

Sr. M reached around to twist my nipples and I moaned for him. He started thrusting faster and pushed as deep as he could as he filled my ass with his hot load. He lay on top of me a while, still rolling my nipples between his fingers.

“Does this hurt?”

“Yes, Daddy”, I moaned.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No, Daddy! It hurts so good!”

He played with my nipples a little longer then rolled off me.

“May I suck you again, Daddy? Make I suck your nice lollipop?” I implored.

My total submission was music to his ears and I spent another half hour sucking him to another orgasm. He demanded I keep my cock in his mouth until he fell asleep. Before I turned off the lights, I saw the belt and hairbrush close by.

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Sr. M woke me early the next morning with a hard slap to my bottom. I hadn’t slept well after the beatings I’d received yesterday.

“What are you doing naked in my bed?” he growled. “You’re just a little slutty whore! I think I need to teach you another lesson! Do you WANT another whipping? Do you LIKE the feel of my belt?”

Resigned to receiving at least one more beating, I rose from the bed and handed him the belt. I had learned he felt more aroused after using the belt. Showing my utter submission, I stretched and grabbed the door frame .I was already crying before the first swat even landed!  I glanced over I the mirror, but I wasn’t really surprised at what I saw. Sr. M was already rock hard! He wasn’t careful here he laid the lashes. Silve occasionally used a riding crop on me, but only on my ass, and for short periods. Just enough to warm my bottom. 

Sr. M didn’t tease me between lashes. He didn’t caress myskin with the belt. His lashes fell rapidly. He was trying to get in as many lashes as he could in the limited time he had before I left for school. I could see angry red welts covering my back, bottom, and thighs. He didn’t seem concerned anyone else would see them!

Finally, he lay on his back and commanded I ride him. I could barely move to straddle him. He drank in my pain: it was Viagra to him. My bottom hurt as I ground against him. He grinned as he twisted my nipples painfully. Fortunately he came quickly.

Sr. M pushed my away and went to Miguel’s room to shower and dress. I stayed in my shower letting the hot water ease some of my pain. When I finished, the slutty schoolgirl outfit was laid out for me.

“What took you so long?” Sr. M asked. “You stupid girl!”

He removed his belt and directed me to the table. I bent over and raised the short skirt. He pulled my panties down and stepped back. I heard the whistling again and felt the belt across my thighs. I was crying unabashedly. I didn’t do anything to deserve this treatment! I hated this man, but there wasn’t much I could do!

Sr. M stopped when his phone rang. He was unhappy with the call. It seemed his car was already on its way and he didn’t have much time left to spend with me. He eyed the belt in his hands and weighed his options, deciding he’d rather fuck me one last time! He rammed his cock into me a few minutes, coming quickly. He took a couple of pictures of my ass and legs an done or two of his cum leaking out of my welt covered ass. He used his remaining few minutes to continue whipping me until his driver knocked at the door.

“I like you,” he said. “Maybe we can do this again! Maybe Ican have you for a long weekend!”

After he left, I sat in the shower and cried.  I took a few selfies to show Miguel.  I couldn’t believe he knew the type of man to whom he’d lent me .

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Miguel made sympathetic noise when he came home, but I suspected he was aroused at the sight of my welts as, over the following months, our sex gradually became rougher.

I was bent over the back of the sofa one afternoon. Miguel was into one of his marathons and was well into his second hour of fucking me. I’d creamed a couple of times and was getting close to creaming again. Sweat gave my body a light sheen. Miguel, on the other hand, wasn’t even tired!

Afterwards, we lay on my bed as he fondled my breasts and kissed me. This was how I liked being fucked.

“Montoya offered to buy you from me!” Miguel mentioned quite casually. “Seems you did too good a job pleasing him!”

He  saw my horrified expression and said, “Don’t worry Querida! I’m not ready to sell you!!”

I lay there and shivered. Please, let him be teasing!