Life and Times of a Pain Whore
Introduction:
Sarah was raised to be a perfect pain whore and Johnny knows just how to use her
Life and Times of a Pain Whore – Chapter 1
Johnny and I are lovers, no one really gets that and with all the trouble we went through about our lifestyle, he finally bought us a house in the country where we can be alone. Johnny is a brutal sadist and I live for the near death experiences and the exquisite pain he gives me. No one has seen me for years, I belong to Johnny completely now. I know it is time to write my story, I know that soon he will finish with me and my life will be over, it doesn’t matter that no one understands this, but I welcome that ultimate moment of release and I am ready. Last night we came so close to the end, my own sick pleasure almost sent him over the edge.
Last night I lay in the bathtub, unable to keep myself from shivering but trying to keep my face so very still, doing everything in my power to achieve the look of death I knew he craved. My body had a slight grayish tinge, ebbing toward blue, the scars of his initials bright white on my left breast, the other scars criss-crossing my torso and thighs puckered and bright pink against my deathly pallor. He stood above me stroking his hard cock looking down at me and finally pulled me from the tub. He hoisted my dead weight over his shoulder and dropped me on the bare mattress in the stark room. Again he stood over me, running one hand up my leg and then grabbing my left breast and running his thumb over his initials, squeezing my brittle hard nipple, the freezing nub burning from the pinching. I lay still, holding every ounce of the pain inside me, I had to be dead for him. He smiled and roughly threw my legs apart, cramming three fingers into my shriveled, frigid pussy. He grunted as he felt the cold flesh and removed his fingers, replacing them quickly with his large rock hard dick. I wanted to scream as his hot cock entered me. He thrust in and out of me, running his hands all over my cold body and then bent forward biting into the cold flesh of my right breast, his teeth easily breaking the skin, the warm blood running down my freezing skin, burning a path, and I moaned and arched against him and a hot flush of cum covered his shaft.
“No,” he screamed and reared above me, slapping me hard again and again. “You fucking bitch, no.” He clamped both hands around my throat and rammed his cock again and again into my shuddering pussy. “Die you stupid fucking cunt.” His spit dripped down into my face in his fury as he squeezed and battered into me. I lost consciousness and he dragged me back into the bathroom kneeling on the floor with me, pushing my head into the icy water of the tub. I came to quickly choking and struggling and he pulled my head out of the water by my hair. He kneed my legs apart and shoved his big, thickly veined cock into my ass and I screamed. He lifted and dropped my head in the same rhythm he stroked my ass. At his last stroke he kept my head under and buried himself in my ass shooting spurt after spurt of hot cum into me, holding me in the water as I struggled frantically, clawing and twisting, trying to get to the air. I must have lost consciousness again; I woke up on the floor alone.
I know that in the 16 years we have been together we have done everything, there is nothing he hasn’t done, except kill me, and that is what all of this has been about, him living out his every brutal fantasy, using me and abusing me in any and every way. I have loved every minute of it, don’t get me wrong, I was raised a pain whore and will die one, I can’t live without it, and will probably no longer be able to live with it.
So, here is the story of Johnny and Sarah, lovers.
We met many years ago on the streets of Phoenix, I was a 15-year-old runaway and Johnny was a 42-year-old hotel owner, the hotel a front for his whores, he was a pimp of the cruelest nature. He was a mean bastard who slapped and humiliated his whores at every chance. I watched for a few days, talking to some of his girls and hearing about his depravity from them. They warned me to stay away, little did they know it was like coming home to me and I couldn’t stay away, I needed him. For a week I watched him come out of his hotel every afternoon and stand at the door, tall and muscular, deeply tanned, long dark hair. He stood with his arms cross and watched his girls file by one by one, eleven of them. Finally I worked up the nerve to walk up to him, wearing my shortest skirt and a white tank top, my dark pink nipples and areola visible through the thin fabric. My dark hair hanging down my back, straight and long. I walked right up to him and asked for a job. He laughed.
Tossing my hair I looked right into his eyes, “I’m experienced.” I was surprised at his eyes, black, the darkest pits of nothing I had ever seen. He smirked and reached out cupping one breast in his hand, smiling as my nipple hardened under his thumb. He squeezed, pressing his fingers into my soft flesh. He looked into my eyes and squeezed harder, raising his eyebrows in surprise when my eyes glazed slightly and my mouth opened. I felt myself fall into the trance of pleasure as his fingers dug into me. My face turned a bright shade of red as he pushed me back a step.
He turned and opened the door, grabbed my arm and ushered me inside. He pushed me down the hall to an office. He led me to a couch and sat down pulling me down beside him, saying quietly, “Tell me about your first time, in detail.”
I told him the story of my initiation into painful sensuality.
“At 11 I was sent to live with my Aunt Karen and Uncle Dan after my parents were killed in a car accident. The second night I was there Aunt Karen made it clear that I was in the way and that she had no use for me. Uncle Dan, on the other hand, was so nice to me, always holding my hand and tucking me in. Aunt Karen had many friends and parties and was gone most of the time leaving Uncle Dan to take care of me. He was so handsome, and I told him that one night when he tucked me in to bed.
“You look like a Ken doll, Uncle Dan.” He laughed and reached out, running his finger down my nose to my lips, softly tracing them.
“How would you like to be my special Barbie?”
“Okay, Uncle Dan.” I smiled and nuzzled my cheek into his hand. He shifted on the bed beside me and rubbed the blanket over me tucking it down my sides.
“Do you know what a special Barbie does, Sarah?” He asked me in a quiet voice.
“No, Uncle Dan, but I can do it, I promise.” I was a little frightened, if they didn’t keep me, I had to go to the foster homes.
“It means that you have to do everything I want you to, you have to show me how much you love me.” He gripped my cheeks a little tightly, squeezing and looking down at me. “Love hurts, you know that don’t you, Sarah?”
I nodded and a tear rolled down my cheek onto his finger, and he smiled. I knew what he meant, I wasn’t stupid, daddy was his brother and I knew all about what he wanted me to do, but I didn’t have anybody left. I had no one but him and I would have done anything for his love; and I did. Uncle Dan pulled the blanket down and pushed my nightgown up to my stomach and pulled my panties down to my knees. I watched his face as he ran his thumb over my soft pink lips and then he pressed on the hard little button at my center. I remember gasping at the funny electricity and my legs fell open. Uncle Dan swore and started breathing faster; he pushed his thumb inside me and I screamed. He clamped his hand on my mouth and I stared up at him in fear, surprise and pain. He twisted his thumb into me, glaring at me as he twisted it around, pulling it in and out.
“You must never scream unless I tell you I want to hear you scream.” He pulled away from me and walked out of the room. I pulled my panties up and turned over, crying into my pillow. Daddy had never done anything like that. Daddy always sat in his chair and had me lay naked over his lap, rubbing his hand over my bottom while he pulled on himself until he covered my bottom in sticky warmth.
For two days Uncle Dan barely spoke to me or even look at me, and didn’t come to tuck me in. One night Aunt Karen left and after dinner when Uncle Dan was cleaning the kitchen I went to him and put my arms around him laying my head against his stomach. He reached down and stroked my hair.
“Go to your room, Sarah, and wait for me, take your clothes off and lay on your stomach on the bed.” I went to my room and did as he asked, laying there waiting and waiting, I was dozing off when I heard the door open. I felt him behind me, standing above me, then I felt the bed sink as he knelt on it and I felt his naked legs against mine. He pulled me up by my hips and I tucked my knees under me. He began to rub my ass, squeezing and lifting my little cheeks, slowly opening them and then pushing his fingers right into the crack, spreading me open wide.
“Tonight, Sarah, you can scream.” And I did, as he rammed his cock into me. I felt the skin around my tiny opening tear and he pumped in and out of me burning and stretching my most secret spot. I screamed and cried, struggling against his assault. Uncle Dan groaned and swore, squeezing my hips and holding me against him, almost all of him buried deep inside my ass. “Holy fuck,” he yelled and I screamed again as his hot cum gushed into me. He dropped on top of me and then rolled over, turning me and holding me against his chest, stroking my wet, sweaty hair as I cried into his neck. “Uncle Dan loves you, my special girl.” He reached down and pushed one finger into my throbbing, soaking ass and moved it around gently. “I have so many things to show you.”
After I finished, Johnny was silent, staring hard at me, rubbing the bulge in his lap. I stared back at him and licked my lips. “How old are you?” he held up his hand, “don’t lie.”
“I’m 15.”
He smiled at me and reached out to stroke my hair and shoulder, closing his fist around a handful of hair pulling me toward him, “It was a nice story, but I still don’t know what you’ve got.” He reached down with his other hand and opened his pants letting his hard cock spring up into my face. He grabbed it and rubbed it against my lips and cheeks. “Open your pretty little mouth, whore.”
I eagerly opened my lips and darted my tongue out to lick the head of his hard cock, pressing the tip of my tongue into the warm hole. He groaned and grabbed my hair, pushing my head down forcing his huge cock into my throat. He was the biggest man I had ever seen and the fat head of his cock hurt as it pushed against the tight clenching of my throat, gagging and choking I grabbed his thighs for leverage. He grunted and pushed, his cock was deep and he thrust his hips in short hard pops, going deeper into my throat each time. My mouth was filled completely, my lips pressing against my teeth, the soft insides of my mouth tearing. Hot foamy spit ran out of my mouth coating his cock and running over his balls and thighs. With one last thrust he held his cock deep, completely cutting off my air and shot spurt after spurt of hot cum into my throat. I quickly swallowed and sucked, taking every bit of it, my throat contracting on the head of his cock with each swallow.
I lay there against his thigh with his cock still in my mouth as he caught his breath. He stroked my hair and the side of my face as his breath slowed and then pushed me to the floor at his feet. He stood and pulled up his pants, “You need training, I’ll train you for room and board for now, then when I think you’re ready you’ll work the streets.”
Later that night as I lay on a mat on the floor next to his bed as he slept, I rubbed my bruised and swollen lips and pressed my thighs together. Smiling happily I slept for the first time in weeks.
