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Story: Slut

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The Guv'nor

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Jan 21, 2001, 7:42:10 AM1/21/01
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This story is very different to my usual. I use words I would not
normally use, but do so for a reason. The characters are also quite
different. For the part of the male, I picture Robert Mitchum!
The story is also not quite what it seems. Many thanks to Spark for
translating my Australian phrases into American!

It had been a long day. I had tramped one grubby street after another.
The sort of street where trash overfilled the cans, or lay in a drunken
stupor propped up against the wall of a derelict building.

My suit was crumpled and my eyes had more bags than LA airport. My
eyelids, were heavy with mental and physical fatigue. I had been
drinking - I had to. I was looking for a guy, the reason is of no
importance to you - but it was to me. And when I found him, he would
realize just how important. At least while he was conscious.

I had searched the bars and pool halls. Each time I walked into one of
these dark, sordid holes, the locals would look me up and down. The guys
would cast an eye over the stranger. Some wondering how to roll me,
others how to take me. The girls would give inviting smiles, while
working out how much they could get off me before they disappeared after
a quick fuck in a cheap hotel, or even the alley outside.

I looked at my watch. It was almost midnight. I stood on the pavement
looking at the neon sign inviting me into Joe's Bar. I took a deep
breath, pushed open the door and entered.

Then I saw her - sitting at a table by herself. What was it that poet
said? "How can I describe my love" or some shit like that. Who cares,
because there is only one way to describe her. She was a tramp. A cheap,
dirty little tramp. The sort of girl who made two dollar hookers look
classy. I wanted her.

Don't ask me why, I'm not a shrink. You want to know why, you figure it
out. I just wanted her. When I set my mind to something, I usually get
it. This slut would be a pushover for me. I figured I could even cut the
small talk and just take her out into the alley and fuck her up against a
wall. Probably wouldn't be the first time that had happened to her.

I ordered a drink and asked the bartender what the girl was having. I sat
down uninvited and pushed her whiskey towards her.

"What's this?" she asked. I asked her if she wanted it or not. She picked
up the glass, and knocked it back in one go. I went back to the bar and
ordered more whiskey. I told the bartender to forget the glasses, just
give me the bottle. I put a few bills on the grimy bar and told him to
keep it coming.

I stared at her as I refilled her glass. Her clothes were shabby, her
hair unkempt. But her eyes...there was something about her eyes. I could
not put my finger on it, but I knew where my finger would soon be.

Again, she knocked it back. She took the bottle and I grabbed her wrist.
"Not yet babe" I told her. She flashed a stare at me, as cold and sharp
as a stiletto blade.
"What's wrong big boy, don't ya wanna get me drunk? Like a bit of life in
your fucks do you?"

I smiled at her, a smile mixed with amusement and contempt. It was
obvious I was going to have to go a long way down the food chain to
communicate with her.

"Tell me about yourself" I said. Why, I have no idea - just seemed like a
good idea at the time.

"What's there to tell. Now why don't you tell me what you want, as if I
couldn't guess"
I refilled our glasses, sat back in my chair and looked her up and down.
Those eyes. What the hell was it that was bugging me.

"Do you wanna take a photo big boy?" she asked. I told her to stop
calling me big boy.

"Why? Does it bug you? Does it sound demeaning when I say it?" she asked.

She riled me. "I just don't like it. My name is Bob got that." I said
brusquely.

"OK big boy, whatever you want." Shit, her smile was evil. And those
eyes. What was it about them?

"Don't fuck with me sister, I'm not in the mood do you understand?" She
laughed, threw back her head so her hair flew behind her.

"Why, what ya gonna do? Knock me around? bash me? Mr tough guy are you
big boy?"

She was pushing it. Pushing it very far.

"I never hit women" I told her. It was true. Plenty had hit me, some of
them were pretty damn good shots, but not once had I laid hands on a
woman in anger.

If she kept on, what was I going to do?

A drunk staggered over to our table. He ran his fingers through her hair.
"Fuck off" she told him. The drunk giggled and tried to look aggrieved.

"Now don't be like that, how about being nice to me, and I'll be nice to
you."

This wasn't the best day for him to interrupt me. I grabbed hold of his
hair and pushed his head down hard upon the table.

"The lady would like you to leave. I suggest you do that" I said. All
eyes in the bar were on us. Luckily, there were only a few drunks left,
many of them too old or too pissed to do anything. He decided to take my
advice.

"A real Sir Galahad ain't ya big boy" she remarked. I just smiled and
poured another drink.

"I told you not to say that" this time my rebuke was not too harsh.

"But you don't hit women big boy, we already established that" Again I
smiled. Something puzzled me. No, not her eyes..something else..something
she said. What the fuck was going on.

"Let's get out of here." I said. I took her arm, not as a sweetheart
would, lovey dovey was not my style tonight. As we neared the door,
another drunk came up. His breath smelled of cheap whiskey and his
clothes stank of...well I'll let you work that one out. I gently eased
him away.

"Hey, don't I know you" he said. "I doubt it" I replied and tried to move
on. He was not one to give up.

"I'm sure I know you. Bob isn't it?" I stopped in my tracks. "My names
Bob, but you got the wrong guy."

"It is you. Remember we used to drink together at Masons Bar, long time
ago, but I remember."

I stared at him. Hard. "I told you once, you made a mistake. Do you
understand?" My words were not spoken as a question, but as a threat. He
got the message.

Outside, she tried to make something of his remarks, but I told her to
forget it. I hailed a cab and gave the driver my address. Not once did
she try to leave. Ten minutes later we pulled up outside my apartment
block. At one time it was a respectable home. Probably had a nice family
with nice kids. But the years had not been kind to the building or the
neighborhood.

I fumbled with my keys, and eventually opened the door. She walked in and
looked around.

"So this is where you live big boy" Brother she was really getting to me.

"KNOCK IT OFF OK". That wicked smile flashed at me once more - and those
damn eyes.

"O.K. I wont say another word big boy". I gritted my teeth.

"Just once more that's all and I'll...I'll....." I faltered.

"What big boy, what will you do? Go on tell me"

I did better than that. I marched towards her and took her arm. With her
in tow, I sat on the battered sofa and hauled her across my knee.

I started to smack. Hard. She struggled a bit, but not as much as I
expected. I kept on spanking. Left, right, left right. I kept it up for
about a minute. Something was not right. Hell this tart perplexed me. She
should have been cursing and calling me all the names under the sun, but
she didn't.

When I had stopped, I helped her to her feet. She stood smiling at me.

"Gee big boy, thought you could do better than that. She stood closer to
me and started to un-buckle my belt. I smiled. I was going to get to fuck
her. She slid the belt from trousers, folded it in two and handed it to
me.

"Not yet big boy, not till you have done the job properly" She bent over,
hands resting on the sofa and wiggled her ass. I took my cue. I pulled
her dress over her waist, and tugged at her nylons and panties. I raised
my arm and bought the belt down across her ass. Hard, relentlessly. Fuck.
What was I doing. She started to yell, but I persisted. It was like I was
driven - or someone else had taken control of the wheel and was doing the
driving.

Finally I finished. I told her to stay exactly how she was. I quickly
undressed and fucked her there and then, right in the middle of my small,
dingy living room. No four poster bed for this tramp. My cock moved in
rythym with the flashing neon hoardings shining through the thin
curtains.

The job was done. I was satisfied and poured us a drink. I sat next to
her. It was the first time that evening my eyes had been so close to
hers. I looked at this urchin and......and kissed her.

She smiled. She did not respond the way I expected. Instead she stood up,
gathered her things and said, "I have to go now". Go? I was puzzled. "Why
don't you stay a bit longer sugar" I suggested.

"I don't think so." I should have pushed it, but something told me not
to.

"Where do you live? I will call you." She laughed,

"I don't think that's a good idea" she told me. I felt insulted. "Why,
not good enough for you am I?" My tone of voice was meant to mock this
little tramp. She brushed her hair back, and her eyes cut through me.
Through to my very soul, my very being. Her voice changed. It was
cultured - refined.

"You are correct. You are not good enough for me. You never have been and
never will. That drunk had it right. He did know you. He knew you because
you came from there. Those streets were once your streets, but you can't
admit that can you?"

"You think you picked me up in a bar. A cheap tart, bought for a few
whiskeys. You wanted to use me. I was nothing. I was expendable. What
were you going to do, shove some notes in my hand and playfully smack my
backside and send me on my way in the morning?"

"Guess what big boy. You may come from those dark grimy streets, but I do
not. I like to be spanked by someone like you. A bit of rough."

She took a purse from her handbag and took out a twenty. She pressed it
into my hand, "Take this big boy" and planted a smack on my ass.

The next morning I went for a hair cut. I sat down and waited for Max to
put the finishing touches to the guy before me. I had been going to Max
for years. We talked the sort of talk men usually do in barbers shops.

I picked up a magazine, one of those glossy ones filled with pictures of
socialites in long black dresses attending galas and charity functions.
There were some good lookers. One in particular was all class.

I took the magazine with me when Max called me over to the chair. I
showed him the girl in the photo. "What you think Max, wouldn't mind
shagging her I bet?" Max laughed, "Yeah right Bob, like we would get a
look in" He gave a big chesty laugh, and so did I.

I rested the magazine on my lap. My cock grew hard as I looked at the
photo. Good job the apron was covering me. Yep, she was beautiful all
right. Especially the eyes. There was something about them.

Mike

Copyright 2001 Mike Hitchen. All Rights Reserved. The right of Mike
Hitchen to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in
accordance with the Australian Copyright Act 1968. The author has
asserted his Moral Rights (amended Dec 2000)

--------------------------------------------------------------
"Nothing in the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and
consciencious stupidity."
-Martin Luther King, Jr


Laserlynx

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Jan 21, 2001, 9:03:18 AM1/21/01
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Mike,

Am intriguing story...but disturbing. To me at least.

I don't have the answer right now as to why it effects me that way. I'm writing
this as soon as I've read it, so haven't had time to compute my feelings into
reason.

Just feelings.

Like the story.

Powerful stuff here, Mike. Lots of things that pull at me. Disturbing.
Unsettled.

Thank you.

Court


jkl...@webtv.net

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Jan 21, 2001, 9:16:27 AM1/21/01
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Mike,

This is an amazing story. Don't ever think that you have to explain
that you're using words that you wouldn't normally use. Every character
has a different voice, and you nailed this one. It wouldn't have worked
any other way.


Jen

ssp...@webtv.net

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Jan 21, 2001, 12:38:35 PM1/21/01
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I love this story! It has a gritty, film noir feel to it, where things
are not always what they originally seem. Good job, Mike!

Spark
P&E


LurkingCol

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Jan 21, 2001, 9:34:40 PM1/21/01
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Liked this story too. Good atmosphere.

Cheers,
Colin.

----
See my simplistic web site
http://www.geocities.com/lurkingcol/index.html
for my spanking stories.


Wooz

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Jan 23, 2001, 4:15:44 AM1/23/01
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The Guv'nor wrote:

"Slut"

Nice story Big Boy, really enjoyed it. Appreciate your volunteering time and
service to the group as well Mike. Thanks......

Wooz

p&e

Haron

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Jan 24, 2001, 12:18:08 PM1/24/01
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Well, I had to think long and hard whether I liked this story, and in
the end I came to the conclusion that I did - a lot. Not on a usual
"spanko story" level, but as a, um, "mainstream" story (I hope you
don't take offence at that term <g>) - it has the conflict, and
interesting characters, and is certainly a nice variation of a usual
tune.
I think I'm gonna re-read it soon :)

Best,
Haron


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