She couldn’t stop giggling. She was in fits of laughter and Larry was not amused. What the hell was wrong with this woman?
Larry had been out to one of the local men’s clubs having some beers and hooting at the women when this redhead caught his attention. She was older than he usually liked but she was natural, no plastic, and that was what he liked. He didn’t fancy her, per se, but thought she would serve his purpose for the evening. Larry found little use for women outside of his own sexual gratification and, of course, his need to teach them their place. They were to be seen, felt, used, but never heard unless at his desire. They were never to giggle. Never. He would teach her what she is to say and when.
“You find something funny, whore,” he barked his query.
“No. I just… I just…” and her giggles continued.
“You want to giggle? Uh?”
“No, I’m sorry. I don’t mean anything by it. It’s just a nervous habit.”
“Do I make you nervous, whore?”
A look of indignation appeared upon her heavily made up face. “I’m no whore!”
“And yet you are here, in a motel room with me. You don’t even know my name. My dear, a whore is exactly what you are and tonight you are my whore. Now, open that insipid mouth of yours and put it to good use.” Larry unfastened his belt and jeans as he walked over to where she sat in the lone motel room chair. Before she could utter another word he grabbed her by the hair and rammed his cock into her open mouth until she gagged. Then he did it again and again.
He pulled back so she could catch her breath. She looked up at him, opened her mouth again and started sucking him. Her tongue whirling about and flicking the tip of his cock.
“Good whore,” Larry groaned at her. This is what women are good for he thought, giving him pleasure. He then wondered how she’d feel about the pleasure he would soon give her.
These whores from the men’s clubs so confounded him. There they were taking their clothes off, dancing and teasing the men. They wanted to get them excited so they would spend money, more than the paltry amount they had dished out for the warm beer and lousy food. The men didn’t come for the food or drink though, they came for the whores. They were easy, anyone could see, yet when he would pick one to finish the job she would act all innocent with a ‘I’ve never done this kind of thing before’ line. Why did they pretend to be what they weren’t, pretend they didn’t want what it was they truly desired?
Larry knew better. He knew they wanted it, enjoyed it. They just needed to be told to. They needed to feel like they were still being good girls when doing the things they wanted to do anyway.
This whore was giving him a great blow. Her mouth had surely sucked many a man and tasted the liquid gold they spewed. And still she wanted to be treated like a good girl. No, she didn’t deserve to be treated like a good girl. She deserved to be treated like the whore she was.
Larry didn’t think being a whore was a bad thing. It was a great thing, it was what men wanted. Owning ones sexual desires and abilities was something to be celebrated and honored. You like to suck cock? Great! You enjoy being bathed in the cum of countless men? Excellent! You like to be called a dirty two-bit whore? Good for you! You like playing both sides at the local swingers club? Perfect!
That doesn’t mean you can’t also be treated like a lady. You are one. Clearly. The problem Larry finds is that too many women think they have to be one or the other, lady or whore, not realizing that they are both. Every woman is a lady and every woman is a whore, it’s just the ratio that differs.
Larry pulled out of her mouth. “Time to bend over, whore. Let me find out how tight that ass of yours really is.”