Chapter 9: Line of Communication
Angela rode the elevator up to her father’s penthouse apartment with Brad, the residual taste of his semen still in her mouth. She trailed just behind him, letting him lead since she had no idea which apartment she was supposed to go to. Finally, he stopped at a door and looked at her expectantly.
“I lost my purse,” she said, thinking quickly, “No keys. No phone. You remember that you had to pick me up, right?”
Brad sighed and nodded, pulling out his keys and unlocking the door. Angela breathed a sigh of relief, glad that she’d stowed the purse in her backpack. The penthouse was a spacious bi-level that overlooked the towers of downtown. Two massive bookshelves lined one wall near the big windows. Further back was a kitchen with a big island, while off to her left a spiral staircase wound upward to the bedrooms. The whole place was very neat and spotless. No past due bills here, she thought with just a twinge of envy.
Angela rounded on Brad and said petulantly, “Is there anything else? Do you need to jizz down my throat again before you leave?”
“If you’re offering...“ he said.
“Goodbye,” she shot back, her hands on her hips.
Brad rolled his eyes and smiled, then left. Angela wandered the apartment, getting a feel for the layout, then found Angie’s room and dropped her backpack on the bed. Angie seemed to have it all. Her closet was bursting with all kinds of designer clothes, most of which were unfamiliar, but she could see the quality. A big flatscreen TV hung on one wall. The bed was a big four-poster canopy perfect for a little princess. Angela explored the drawers and vanity, discovering numerous tiny panties, sexy bras, and all kinds of jewelry.
The jewelry brought a thought to mind, and she quickly rooted through her backpack until she came up with the pendant. She held it up to her eyes and gazed through it. Yes, just like before, she could see the view of the other side. Angie must still have hers around her neck. She saw her own room, but what caught her attention was what Angie was doing on her phone. Where had she gotten a phone that worked over there? Her dad certainly couldn’t afford to get her an iPhone.
Where she’d obtained the device, though, was not nearly the biggest question on her mind as she saw what Angie was using it for. Her doppelganger was filling out an online form for a porn site called Just4Fans! The username read “Not-eNerd,” and there was a photo of herself as she usually dressed. Angela snatched her glasses from the backpack, and now she could read the tiny text in the profile.
“End of high school and time to live a little. Join me on my journey of sexual discovery and watch the live transformation of a good girl into a total nympho fuckpuppet!”
“What the fuck are you doing?” Angela cried.
She could see Angie stop what she was doing, and then Angela heard her own voice in her head.
“Hello?”
Angela sat up straight. Had Angie heard her? Had she just heard Angie?
“Hello?” Angela answered back.
There was a pause, then the voice in her head, wicked and cruel, “Oh my fucking God! You can hear me?”
“Yes!”
“It’s like a fucking dream, isn’t it?” Angie asked.
“No! It’s a nightmare! I know how to switch us back,” Angela replied, hopeful. She could just tell Angie how to be like her, and this would all be over faster.
“Back? I’m not going back. I thought you were supposed to be some kind of super brain.”
Cold dread knotted her stomach.
“But… don’t you want to come home?” Angela asked.
“Are you crazy? This place is great! Thanks for helping me graduate, by the way. You really had a lot of opportunities. I’m not going to be taking advantage of them, but it’s nice to have some options. More than you’re gonna have.”
Angela felt hot tears in her eyes as she replied, “But it’s not right! That’s my life!”
“Not anymore, stupid. Now, you get my shit dad. He’ll probably kick you out after school’s out, so have fun turning tricks down on 3rd to make ends meet. I’m not a total bitch, so here’s a tip. You may want to avoid the Snake twins. They pay well, but they’re super into double anal, and they like to video that shit and sell it. Now, if you don’t mind, I'm kinda busy setting up your new career over here.”
“You can’t do that!” Angela cried.
Angie’s evil laughter erupted in her brain, and then she said, “Sure I can! Your mom sent me some seed money for graduation, and I’m putting it to good use. Don’t worry. I’ll keep the line open from time to time, so you can have a front-row seat. You’re going to make a great porn princess! I’ve seen the kind of weird shit that you guys have online over here and, trust me, people are going to go nuts over watching miss first place science fair become first place fuckdoll. Tata!”
She watched Angie remove the pendant, and stuff it out of sight, breaking the communication. Judas Christ was she going to have to work fast, now! The longer she stayed here, the more Angie was going to wreck her entire life. If she didn’t manage to get back soon, what was she going to have left to go back to?
Angela resumed her inspection of the room with a newfound sense of determination. She had to learn everything she could about how to become Angie. Unfortunately, Angie wasn’t one to keep a diary of her horrendous exploits. She did have a computer, though. It took a couple of tries to get the password, but when she thought like a dumb, bitchy, slut version of herself, she came up with the right one. Fuckdoll. God, Angie really was a perverted bitch.
For the next two hours, she went through Angie’s emails, her browser history, and the files on her computer. In most ways, Angie was her complete opposite, but they did share some similarities. One gross example was a spreadsheet, where Angie tracked her income from hooking. The sheet had names, locations, amounts she’d been paid, and for what “service”. Angela felt sick just looking at it, but it was valuable, nonetheless. Angie had regulars that she met with, and her activities made more money than Angela had ever seen in one place. Where did she keep it? She wondered, but that thought was secondary.
The idea that she was going to have to become, not only a complete bitch, but also a prostitute made her have second thoughts about ever going home. Could she actually bring herself to do this? Then, she imagined what her dad would feel, when he learned that Angie was rewriting her life, destroying all of her accomplishments, and turning her into some kind of porn star. He was already a broken man. Having to go through all of that might actually put him under. She couldn’t let it happen.
A distracting rumble from her stomach signaled that she’d been neglecting to eat anything today. If she was going to pull this off, she’d certainly need to keep up her energy. Angela made her way down to the kitchen, where she was greeted by Angie’s father, standing by the island reading over a stack of papers.
“Angie,” he said brusquely.
“Hey, dad. I’m hungry.”
“You know where the pantry is,” he replied, without looking up.
She didn’t but supposed it wouldn’t be too difficult.
“Why were you at your mother’s?” he asked, “and where’s your car?”
Angela thought quickly, replying, “I lost my purse. No phone. No keys. No money. I took the bus to mom’s after school and called you.”
He grunted, accepting the answer, and did not seem surprised. Angela felt certain that this was not the first time something like this had happened. Dale set the papers down on the island and fished out his wallet. He handed her a black credit card.
“It has a $500 limit,” he said, “And I’d better not see any charges from Cedrics or K-Mart on this one. Get yourself a new phone at the Horizon on 6th. They’ll be able to switch the old line to the new one. I’ll have Brad drive you in the morning, and he can get a locksmith out to get a new key for the car.”
She nodded and resisted the urge to thank him. Oddly enough, he was unfazed and hugged her. Even though it wasn’t her real dad, Angela nearly broke down and cried into his chest. She didn’t want to feel alone here, contemplating the horrible things she was about to do in order to get the real Dale back. Alone she was, though. No one else could know. No one else could help. It was all up to her.
Chapter 10: Altering Angela
Angie’s bed was the most comfortable thing Angela could remember sleeping in. She’d nearly fallen asleep reading through Angie’s email and going back through years of social media history to get an idea of her interests, the way she talked, and where she’d been. The experience was one mindfuck after another. At one point, she’d pondered the philosophical debate of nature vs. nurture, and thought about how much Galton would relish an opportunity to study this. For all she knew, Galton had been a pendant victim himself, and that had led to him coining the term.
She’d put an end to the thought, though, when she told herself that this was certainly not something that Angie would care about. She had to learn to dismiss her own scientific urges if she was going to pull this off. It was time to start thinking like an uppity, homewrecking, slutty, and stupid cunt at every waking moment. 'What would Angie do?' would become her one and only question. In most cases, the answer was bitch, and/or fuck. Easy.
Even though Angie’s clothes were the total opposite of what she’d have chosen, she could not deny a small thrill at the sheer number of choices she had to pick from, and all of them purchased new. No Goodwill for Angie. Angela decided against a bra, donning a cropped white top that stretched enticingly over her big tits, through which her nipples were clearly visible. She’d considered whether Angie would have gone sans-panties, but then decided it would probably be more like her to wear them, and then end up selling her jizz-covered panties to someone after she’d let them jerk off onto her crotch.
She met Brad in the lobby of the apartment complex.
“Ready, Princess?” Brad asked.
“Yeah.”
She followed Brad to the waiting car, where she took the passenger seat. Brad looked at her curiously as he got in on his side.
“So, Brad,” she began, “I was thinking. Do you really have to take me to school?”
“Daddy’s commands are my job,” he said.
“What’s the point? It’s not like a few more days are going to make a difference. I mean, I’m gonna graduate, but cheating on a few more tests isn’t likely to improve my education. Why don’t you just drop me at the Horizon store on 6th, and then go take care of the car? You can pick me up after.”
Brad shook his head and said, “No can do, Princess. I’d be in some shit if your dad found out.”
“If he finds out, just tell him you did your job and dropped me off. It’s not your fault that I skipped school afterwards. It’s not your job to follow me around and make sure I go to class, right?” Angela argued.
“Why would I do that?” Brad asked, starting the car.
“Because I’ll suck you off on the way to school.”
“You’ll do that anyway, unless you want me to tell him about the incident. Two black guys in his penthouse? Can you just imagine the load of shit you’d be in?”
Angie reached into his lap and began to fondle his cock through his pants.
“Well, how about when you pick me up later, I let you fuck me for the rest of the day?”
Brad’s cock jumped in her hand.
“You serious?” he asked.
“I’m not giving it up in the back seat, but if you get a room, yeah. What do you say? All you have to do is drop me off, cover for me,” she leaned in seductively, making her cleavage even more enticing, and whispered hotly in his ear, “and then you can spend the whole rest of the day shoving your cock in me as hard as you want.”
She unzipped his pants and reached in, fingering his dick.
“I think I can make that happen,” Brad agreed, grinning.
Angela pulled his penis free of his pants and leaned over it, wincing inwardly. This was the path home. Resigned, she put her lips around his cockhead.
“Oh, fuck…“ Brad groaned, and added, “I can’t pull out real well if I’m driving.”
Angela pulled his cock from her mouth and said, “I was just in a bad mood yesterday. You don’t have to pull out. Now, or later.”
She resumed her task, fondling Brad’s balls through his pants as she worked her mouth over his stiff stalk. Imagining what he would do to the girl later, Brad did not last long. True to her word, Angela gulped and swallowed his cum before tucking his sated penis away. She adjusted her top, licking her lips clean as she sat back in the seat. Even as she thought that sucking him off wasn’t so bad this time, and even a little exciting, the world around her shimmered for that brief instant. She’d made the right choice. One step closer.
On 6th Street, Brad stopped the car and let her out, then drove off to take care of her vehicle. It felt very strange to be out in town on a school day. Angela had never missed a day of school in her life. Even on days when she’d been sick, she’d managed to get her homework and do something to further her academic pursuits. Then again, the whole point now was to do everything the opposite of what she’d always done. She was a slutty ultra-bitch until she was back where she belonged.
She found the phone store easily enough. A red logo reading “Horizon” was close enough to her own. She waited outside the door the fifteen minutes until the place opened. The salesman was very attentive as he ogled her tits, easily locating her account with her father’s name.
“It looks like you had insurance for theft, so I’ll activate the line with a new one. You want the same phone?” he asked.
“Is there anything better? That one was getting boring,” she replied.
“We have the WozPad 14+ now.”
“Cool!”
The salesman retrieved one from the stockroom and spent the next thirty minutes initializing it and transferring the old line to the new. While she waited, Angela had time to let her fears creep back into her head. She’d never had sex, and now she was suddenly going to have to fuck her way back home. How many dicks was she going to have to suck? How many men would she have to give her body to? What amount of total depravity was going to be enough for the pendant to decide that she was Angie enough to get back? It wasn’t like there was some visible meter of slutdom filling up that she could watch.
After sucking off Brad this morning, she was sure that the shift back to her own existence had been longer, but if she hadn’t been so adept at keeping measurements, she wouldn’t have even noticed the difference. The shifts so far had lasted less than a second. In order to get home, they’d have to last long enough for her to actually be present, and then have time to destroy the stone while she was still where she belonged. That would mean she’d need several seconds at the very least. Then, how easy was the stone to break? Could she throw it on the ground and shatter it? Would she need to hammer the thing to break it? Did something like this require the fires of Mt. Doom to destroy? Unfortunately, there were no practice runs in something like this.
The salesman handed her the new WozPad, a name which made her chuckle inside. She could just imagine what Jobs would have thought about his old partner being the one on top of things. She took the phone, without so much as a thank you. Using the selfie cam, she snapped a picture of her generous cleavage, then posted it to her “The Facebook” account with a string of little drooling emojis. The previous evening, she’d learned that Angie was very much into posting photos of herself being a cocktease.
Angela left the store and crossed the street to a coffee shop, where she ordered a latte with DupliDale's card, complained about the way it was made, and then rudely accepted the second one. She did not tip the barista. The world shimmered as she took a seat and tapped at the phone. Still less than a second.
The phone chimed with “sync complete,” and a sudden flurry of message notifications flooded the screen. Angie was very popular. Angie was also a very busy whore, in the most literal sense. She had twenty different messages from the previous day, and two from this morning, all clients that she recognized from Angie’s spreadsheet. She copy-pasted a message to all of them that she’d lost her phone and just gotten it back. If they were still interested, she wrote, message again.
One reply was almost instantaneous, from a man named Arnold. Angela pulled up her mentally saved copy of the sheet, accessed Arnold, and realized that it was fairly close. He had an apartment over on 3rd. She messaged back that she’d be over soon. Angela finished most of her latte, “accidentally” spilled the rest on the table, and left it for someone else to clean up. Before leaving, she made a stop in the restroom, used the entire roll of paper, and made sure that the toilet was clogged and overflowed, just for good measure. She was rewarded with a familiar shimmer as she pushed open the door to the coffee shop.
The walk to Arnold’s apartment was a short one. She took the elevator up to his floor, located the apartment number from the sheet, and knocked. A moment later, a black man around her father’s age answered.
“Hey, baby! Come on in here,” he said happily.
Angela took a breath and stepped inside, her insides knotted with fear. This was her 3rd sexual experience, but it felt different. Brad, while a stranger, was still an employee of her faux father. There had been some degree of safety in that. This guy was a total unknown. She knew from the sheet that Arnold never wanted anything more than blowjobs, but Angie had labeled the “service” provided as, “face-fucking.” No further details had been supplied.
“Damn, you lookin’ cute today, bitch. How about we get right to this shit?” Arnold asked, “My dick’s been achin’ for this since the last time. Swear to Judas, you got me hooked on that sweet fuckin’ mouth. You’ gonna break my bank, but it’s worth it.”
“I love to suck it,” Angela said, as sultry as she could manage.
“Yeah, I know you bitches do love that big black dick. Bet you sorry daddy ain't into fuckin’ white pussy, ain’t you?”
Angela nodded her head, not particularly sorry, but oddly curious. Arnold threw a pillow on the floor in front of her and then handed her $100. She stuffed the bill into her purse, set it beside her on the floor, and knelt.
“Will you do something for me?” Angela asked.
“What you need, baby?”
She offered him her phone and asked, “Will you record it this time, so I can finger my pussy to it later?”
Arnold laughed and said, “Yeah, girl. I can do that. You know, I do love that about you. You’re a kinky bitch. I better not see that shit online, though. I ain’t got no license to make porn.”
“It’s just for me,” Angela assured him.
Viewing Angie’s personal files had proved a wealth of sexual education. Her other self was very… photogenic. Watching the numerous videos of herself being utterly demeaned, degraded, and used had been a surreal experience. To this point, Angie’s sluttish activities had been some distant thing that Angela was aware of but hadn’t had much experience with outside of blowing Brad. Now, here she was, just like in Angie’s videos. Based on what she’d seen, though, this was the easy part. Angie was a true amateur porno queen, taking on three, four, or more guys at a time in some of her more outlandish recordings. Angela was not looking forward to that experience.
Arnold began his recording, focusing the camera down on the kneeling teen.
“Tell daddy what you want, baby,” he said smoothly.
Angela looked up at the camera and said, “I want to suck your big black cock, daddy.”
“Go on ‘n pull it out, then.”
Angela shakily reached for the man’s shorts and undid them, letting them fall to the floor. She did her best to hide the terror that she felt at the sight of the enormous bulge in Arnold’s tight boxer briefs. Hooking her fingers into the waistband, she pulled them down his legs. His cock sprang free, slapping against her cheek as she peeled the briefs down. He stepped out of them. Angela wrapped her hand around the thick black staff and gave it a few experimental pumps, feeling it grow beneath her fingers.
What the fuck, she thought. Brad had been big, but this was at least a couple of inches longer, and thicker. She prayed that Angie wasn’t a pro at putting the entire thing down her throat. Two reluctant blowjobs had not prepared her to get nine inches of meat stuffed into her mouth.
“That’s what you like, ain’t it, baby?”
“Uh huh,” Angela said, entranced by the big, hot tool.
“Open up for daddy now, girl.”
Angela opened her mouth, and Arnold pushed the fat head of his cock between her lips, stretching them wide. She panicked as the big shaft slipped further into her mouth, splitting her jaw open. There seemed to be no end to it as Arnold put his hand on her head and pushed inch after inch into her, until his pulsing crown touched the back of her throat, making her gag.
“Gukh!”
Arnold laughed and held his penis still, saying, “Good girl. That’s just what I like.”
Tears formed at the corners of her eyes as she relaxed her throat and breathed through her nose. She turned her eyes up toward the man and looked into the camera lens.
“Now that is so sexy. Just look at that little white mouth all cute and stretched around that dick. Bet you’d love to see how that shit would feel openin’ up that little pussy, huh?”
“Mmm hmm,” Angela attempted to reply.
“Sorry baby. You gonna have to keep dreamin’. I only let white bitches suck it.”
Arnold pulled his cock back a few inches and then worked it back in. He began to pump his hips in a slow rhythm, coating his big shaft with her saliva. The veiny ridges of his penis slipped back and forth across Angela’s tongue as she swallowed a froth of saliva that built up in her mouth, having nowhere else to go. Her lips were a tight seal around the cock, practically a vacuum.
“Fuck yeah,” Arnold growled, “Fuckin’ mouth on you, girl. Lemme see them pretty eyes. Just like that.”
Angela kept her eyes on him as well as she could, while Arnold’s pace began to quicken. His fingers twined into her hair, holding it in his fist. Angela’s eyes watered now as he began his assault on her face in earnest. His prick was like a piston, repeatedly forcing its way into her throat, making her gag and sputter, blowing spit bubbles out around the tight seal of her lips on each thrust inward. She placed her hands on his legs to support herself as the black man used her mouth.
“That’s it, slut. Hang on for the ride. Fuck I love how sweet your face looks stuffed full of that dick. Gonna have to get me a second job so I can get this shit every day! Damn, look at those little tears, bitch!”
“Gak! Gak! Gak!” issued from Angela’s stuffed mouth. Arnold was making short, hard thrusts into her now, his dick barely leaving the entrance of her throat, seemingly determined to get the entire length into her, but it just wouldn’t go. She felt his cock lurching against her tongue, the end coming on fast. His cockhead seemed to expand to fill her entire mouth.
“Here it comes, baby. Swallow daddy’s cum. Here it comes!”
Angela braced herself, her head light, vision blurred by tears as Arnold made one last sharp thrust and then roared. His legs shook and then a torrent of hot jizz exploded from his cock straight down Angela’s throat. She worked and worked to swallow it, but there was just so damn much. The shots of cum began to pool in her mouth, too much to swallow at once. Arnold, still gripping her hair tightly, held his penis in her mouth as the flow of semen began to ebb. Angela gulped, gulped, gulped, and then finally she managed to choke the last of it down, feeling nauseated as the thick goo filled her stomach.
“Ah, shit!” Arnold said, sliding his dick from her mouth, “That was a big one. Hot damn!”
Angela sucked in air, feeling like she’d been denied breathing all day. She bent double and through her clouded vision saw drops of spit and cum drip from her gasping mouth onto the carpet. She coughed, sucked air, coughed again, and wiped at her eyes with her hand. A momentary feeling of triumph at having successfully sucked off her first client washed over her. For an instant, the world shimmered. The color of the carpet changed from brown to green, and then it was gone. She was closer. At what cost, though? She’d just whored her mouth out to a strange black man to pump his semen into. How much more of this could she handle?
Arnold, at last, removed his hand from her head. Angela looked up, face to face with his wet, half-hard penis, dripping with her phlegm. One thing was for sure. She was never going to buy jewelry again.
Outside of Arnold’s apartment, she rooted through her backpack, then stuffed two pieces of gum into her mouth. On some level, her mind registered that the aftertaste of Arnold’s cum was not as unpleasant as Brad’s had been, and she wondered how diet might affect the taste of semen. She forced that thought away. Angie wouldn’t care about that. Angie would just be happy to have a stomach full of cum and some extra money.
As she took the elevator down, fighting back tears, she forced herself to think of the latest shift. It had lasted a full second, she was sure. In the grand scheme, it was the longest one yet, so this whorish act had pushed her a long way. What did that mean? Was there some kind of grading system? Acting like a petulant bitch had gotten her closer, but in microseconds. Was that because Angie just was a petulant bitch all the time, so just existing that way was not really a change to herself? It wasn’t really becoming Angie? Or was she actually setting herself back each time she was even inwardly reluctant to be a bitch?
Angie wouldn’t be opposed to her own bitchiness. It was just who she was. She never felt bad about it or had regrets. Angela did have regrets. She did not want to be a cunt to people. The thought was disheartening. If even feeling like herself was enough to set her back, what hope did she have? She couldn’t be Angie in that sense. She wasn't a horrible person. At this point, it was just a hypothesis. There was no concrete evidence to prove that was the case. She needed to measure it, somehow.
Angela checked her messages, replied to Angie’s next client, and did a mental check of the sheet. Angie confined a lot of her “activities” to the general area of downtown. It made sense. They were alike in that way. It was efficient. More opportunities to be a slut in a shorter period of time, maximizing revenue, while minimizing downtime. Angie was some sort of teenage slut-toy assembly line, taking one dick after another, fueled by jizz, churning out as many happy cocks as possible before quitting time. Damn it! If she hadn’t been such a goody-goody her whole life, would her other self have turned out to be such a blatant whore?
As she hurried along to her next meeting, she resolved to lighten up and live a little more after she got home. If for no other reason than one never knows when they mind find themselves in an alternate reality, where being a super-slut was the only way home.
Chapter 11: Eager Assistant
Angie had never considered the A/V club to have any use whatsoever, until today. In order to make her transformation, though, she was going to need help. People didn’t go from mega-nerd to super-slut in a day. The entire appeal of the thing was the transformation. That meant that Not-eNerd would need to start with the kind of boys that Angela was interested in. Nerds. They couldn’t just be any nerds, though. They needed to be useful nerds.
Coming up with names of the people her dork self associated with hadn’t proved all that easy. Angela didn’t have any social media presence. She didn’t even own a phone. She did have an old laptop that wasn’t good for much besides typing papers, and which hadn’t held much in the way of helpful information. Getting through the password on the thing had proved a challenge, too. Angie just wasn’t used to thinking like a geek. She’d finally cracked the goddamn thing after looking at Angela’s bookshelf, where a copy of a biography of some guy named Fibonacci held a birthday message from her father. She typed in the math fucker's name and the computer unlocked.
All that work had nearly proved to be a waste, though. Angela had nothing but school papers and some horrible poetry she'd written. The only valuable information she’d been able to glean was that Angela had done a stellar video project with another geek named Brian, and he’d been a pro director. Even Angie could see that the kid had an eye for lighting and angles.
Today, A/V club was basically a study period, all of the projects having been wrapped up for the year. Brian was busy pouring over a graded practice exam for their shared history class, another reason the boy would be useful.
“Hey, Brian,” Angie said, taking a seat at a table with him, and flipping back her hair.
The poor boy’s eyes nearly fell out of his head at the sight of her.
“Ang… Angela?” he stammered, looking at her cleavage.
“Hey. How did you do on the pre-test?” she asked, as though her state of dress was nothing new.
“Um… great.”
Angie put her hand on his leg, and smiled, saying, “Of course you did! You know, I wanted to talk to you about a video project. It’s off school hours, but I think it could be fun. I loved what you did with our presentation!”
“I… I, um, yeah. What is it?”
Angie ran her hand up his leg a little further, dangerously close to his crotch.
“It’s, well, a little more risque,” she bit her lip nervously, and glanced around the room, lowered her voice, and went on, “Just kind of an… erotic film experiment I’ve been thinking about. It’s not, like, crazy or a nudie flick or something. I’m thinking more like Bigas Luna, or Russ Meyer.”
She watched his eyes glaze over at the idea. Before last night, Angela had no idea who those names were, but a quick search of artsy, erotic film directors had given them to her.
“You like Russ Meyer?” Brian asked dreamily.
“Yeah! Busty dominant women? It’s kind of a guilty pleasure, but it’s so funny!”
The boy smiled back, probably thinking about all the times he’d whacked off to the idea of being dominated by women with big tits. Wish granted, she thought.
“Yeah. Sure. It sounds like it could be cool. Um, what do you have in mind? Do you have a working script or anything we can look at?”
“Later,” she said, “Maybe after school you can show me some of your equipment?”
Her nails brushed his penis as she withdrew her hand, making him blush.
“I… uh… y, yeah. Totally!”
“Maybe you can drive me home? I can show you how deep the plot goes.”
Brian swallowed a lump in his throat bigger than the lump in his pants.
Chapter 12: The Slithery T
Angela knocked on the door to a small house with faded blue paint, just off of 8th Street. Despite the general disrepair of the surrounding neighborhood, the place was well-kept. Even the walkway to the door had been patched over the years, cracks sealed, and the lawn was very evenly mowed. Small flowers lined the walk up to the porch, and neatly trimmed hedges blocked off the view of most of the chain link fence around the lot. Angela wondered why Angie did not have more wealthy clients. Certainly, she knew other people in the same social class as her father. Then, she figured that it was probably part of Angie’s kink. It was sluttier to whore her body out to low-class men who would throw their meager income at her just for a chance at a hot teen body of the kind they’d never see naked outside of licensed internet porn.
Focusing on quelling the flutter of fear in her stomach, Angela waited for the door to open. When it did, she was greeted by a muscular young man with an unruly mop of black hair. Angela guessed him in his late twenties and compared to Arnold this guy was a dreamboat. He wore an easy smile that made her feel better, and his eyes were kind, if hungry as he raked them over her body.
“Hey, kitten,” The man said. Angela’s spreadsheet named him Mike.
“Hey, stud!” Angela chirped.
Mike waved her in and shut the door.
“I’ve been thinking about you. Glad you could make it,” he said, leading her into his living room, where he drew the curtains and asked, “Can I get you a beer?”
“Hell yeah!” Angela accepted. She had never had beer and wasn’t sure how it would mix with the belly full of Arnold’s jizz and a latte, but it seemed like what Angie would do.
“Have a seat,” he pointed to a couch.
Angela waited for her beer to arrive and surveyed the tidy little place. Mike may have looked like a frat boy, but he didn’t live like one. He returned with her beer, twisted off the cap and flicked it expertly into a nearby trash can. Angela accepted it and chugged. She thought it was disgusting but downed half the bottle in one long gulp.
“Cheers!” Mike said and raised his own bottle to her.
“So,” Angela said, setting the rest of the bottle aside, “What’s your pleasure today?”
Mike grinned and said, “Straight to business. That’s why I like you, Ang. You don’t fuck around about fucking around.”
He pulled a wallet from his shorts, took out $100, and handed it over.
Angela put the going rate for Angie’s mouth into her purse, and Mike patted the seat next to him.
“Tits out, kitten,” Mike instructed.
Angela peeled off her top and dropped it over her purse, resisting the temptation to cover herself with her hands in front of this stranger that she was about to suck off.
“Damn! I never get tired of those gorgeous melons,” he said, shaking his head.
Mike wriggled out of his shorts and discarded his tank top. Angela sat next to the naked stranger and his half-hard penis. Mike was more of a size similar to Brad, she noted, but he was completely denuded of hair. This struck her as somewhat courteous. Mike flipped on the TV with the remote as he put his arm around Angela’s shoulders, and gently guided her toward her task. She opened her mouth and slipped her soft lips over her third hard cock of the day.
“Check out this new shit I got, baby. You’re gonna like this one,” Mike said, as Angela played her tongue around his cockhead.
While she was thankful that Mike wasn’t making any effort to shove her head down his prick or fuck it into her reluctant mouth, she couldn’t deny a certain feeling of pride at how accustomed she was becoming to putting cock in her mouth. The act of sucking dicks, she found, was actually kind of calming in a way. Hearing the men groan as they took pleasure from her mouth made her feel warm and wet between the legs. It was only that she was doing it for total strangers out of desperation that really stopped her from enjoying the good feeling in her pussy. The fact that she did feel excitement about it made her feel like a slut. She should embrace the feeling, she knew. It’s what Angie would do, but it was so very hard to like being wanted only for the pleasure you could provide to men with hard dicks, rather than the brilliant thoughts that came out of your mind.
Mike clicked a few buttons on the remote, and Angela saw a video begin to play on the screen. The film was obviously homemade, probably with someone’s phone camera. Unlicensed porn, Angela guessed, slowly sliding her lips down Mike’s hardening shaft, while her eyes watched the TV. She still couldn’t get the idea out of her mind that two days ago she’d been at the precipice of adulthood, on track to graduate with a wide choice of colleges ahead, and now she was on a total stranger’s couch, being paid to suck his dick while watching underground porn. What would Angie do?
She sealed her lips tighter around Mike’s penis and breathed through her nose to get as much of it into her mouth as possible. Mike gave an appreciative groan, and rested his beefy hand on her ass, squeezing it as she sucked him. The TV showed a big-breasted girl with black and purple pigtails, a little stud in her nose, laying on her back on a bench. The girl’s legs were stretched wide apart, and secured to poles, with restraints, on either side of the bench. A very large toy in his hand, a masked man slapped the girl across the face several times. The girl’s body shook with perverse pleasure each time.
“You’re a fucking hole!” The man hissed at her.
“Fuck you!” the girl spat at him, “I’m three fucking holes!”
Mike chuckled at that and squeezed Angela’s ass again. Having had little experience with porno, the scene was shocking. She shouldn’t be that surprised, she thought. Angie had recorded herself being handcuffed to a bed while two guys took turns burying their cocks in her ass until she orgasmed. Angie was evil, though. She expected that kind of behavior from an evil slut. Apparently, there were a lot of evil sluts out there.
Angela drew her lips up and suckled on the head of Mike’s penis, massaging it while stroking his pisshole with her tongue. Mike groaned and she felt his cock twitch, a small dollop of precum oozing out of the tip onto her tongue. She lapped it up and continued her lip massage. The man in the video pushed the big, thick toy cock in his hand into the restrained girl, who shuddered as the thing opened her pussy up.
“Fuck!” the girl moaned, “So big!”
“That’s the small one!” the man said, and laughed, pushing the rest of the toy into her. He began to fuck her with it in long, hard strokes as the girl screamed for more. Moments later, her cunt gushed a stream of clear girl cum out around the toy, and her entire body quivered. The man pulled the thing out of her, and reached for another one, much larger this time.
“Damn, dude. Are you watching it again?” a voice said from the kitchen entry.
Angela jerked back in surprise, but Mike quickly grabbed her head and held it in place, pushing her back down on his cock.
“Uh, uh, slut. Keep going,” he said, then, to the newcomer, “Yeah, man. I thought Ang would get off on this shit. How you likin’ the show, kitten?”
“Mmm hmm,” Angela agreed, liking it a bit more than she should have.
“Hey, Ang,” The newcomer said, as though he hadn’t noticed the topless whore with his friend’s dick in her mouth until now.
Angela glanced away from the cock in her mouth and the girl on the screen, who was now screaming again as fourteen inches of rubber, nearly five inches around was shoved into her body. The new man in the room was about the same age as Mike. Angela tried to recall the other two names from the same address on Angie’s sheet, but Mike was gently masturbating himself with her face now, and aggressively palming her butt cheek. Combined with the screams of agony and pleasure from the woman on the TV, and the growing heat between her legs, Angela’s recall was not forthcoming.
Mike’s roommate tossed some money onto Angela’s discarded shirt, and she panicked. Two at once? How much money did he just throw down? Would he wait his turn or want her to do him at the same time? Oh shit!
“Cheap ass,” Mike said, good-humored.
The roommate snorted and said, “Whatever, man. You know I love to eat this slut’s pussy. You love it, too, don’t you Ang?”
He opened his mouth and stuck out one of the longest, thickest tongues that Angela had ever seen. The thing had to be as big as Mike’s dick. And it was about to go inside of her. She couldn’t run. This had to be done. It wasn’t as though she could physically get away anyway even if she wanted to, which she didn't. These two were so horned up, now, that there was no way they were going to stop using her until their lust had been satisfied.
Roommate grasped the hem of Angela’s skirt and pulled it down, then removed her panties, leaving her completely naked. He maneuvered her body into a better position, then wrapped her panties around his cock and jerked himself with them. The guy was stronger than his physique had led her to believe. He'd easily picked up her lower body and pulled it over the arm of the couch. Her legs dangled over the side now, spread, with her wet pussy exposed and ready for a thorough tonguing. Mike’s cock remained buried in her mouth, and he seemed content to let her simply drool over his penis while his friend knelt behind her.
“You had this pussy fucked today, baby?” Roommate asked.
“Nnnn nnn!” Angela mumbled around Mike’s cock, suddenly afraid. There was no way she’d be able to stop him if he decided he wanted to sink his dick into her. A frisson of thrilling pleasure went up and down her neck.
“Too bad. I do love it when you feed me those sloppy seconds,” the guy said.
“You’re a sick fuck,” Mike said and chuckled.
A sensation like nothing she’d ever felt in her life suddenly invaded Angela’s pussy. This guy’s tongue was like a living thing, slithering inside of her like a snake, wiggling and thrashing.
“Mlly Thip!” she squealed around Mike’s cock.
Mike groaned loudly as her exclamation sent vibrations of pleasure along his cock.
“Damn, man. Keep on going. That was fuckin’ good," he said.
Roommate did keep going, worming that long, thick tongue as deep as it would go, and then working it acrobatically inside of her, now, very wet sheath. Angela had no need to play at enjoying this. It was fucking incredible! Any pretense she’d had of playing at a slut was dashed away as this stranger’s python of a tongue twisted and licked out her insides to the most mind-blowing feeling she’d ever experienced. Angela moaned like the sex-mad whore that Angie was, her entire body convulsing with a life-altering orgasm that had her head spinning. Mike muttered to himself as Angela moaned around his dick, thrashing about. Roommate held her ass apart with both hands. The woman on the TV screamed and squirted again, or maybe it was herself this time. She wasn’t sure.
Roommate withdrew his magic tongue from her sopping pussy. Angela lifted her head up from Mike’s cock just long enough to say, “More! Put it back in!”
Roommate laughed, “You should be paying me for this shit.”
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and then ran his long tongue through her embarrassingly soaked slit. She could actually feel her juices dripping from it. Instead of pushing it back into her pussy, though, the tip of it tickled her anus. Angela’s body tensed. He couldn’t! He was! The tip of the snake opened up her virgin ass. The guy curled it and pushed it further. Angela made a conscious effort not to bite down on Mike’s cock, and as the length of that monstrous tongue squirmed its way into her ass, she began to suck like a true whore. Mike guided her head up and down as she sucked, now not so eager for this to end.
Angela believed that getting anything shoved up her ass was going to hurt, and if it were a penis it might have. This was in no way unpleasant, though. This was fucking amazing, and when Roommate shoved two of his fingers inside her pussy and began to massage it, she bucked against him and came again. Her frantic dick sucking and the sight of a hot teenager in the throes of orgasm did its work on Mike, as well. He pulled Angela off his penis by her hair and fired thick ropes of cum onto her cock-drunk face. She couldn’t even feel disgusted by her first facial. The way this guy’s tongue was buried in her ass was an all-consuming feeling of total bliss. Mike grinned at her shell-shocked face, his eyes clouded over with pleasure.
“Lookin’ good, Ang,” he remarked.
Roommate removed his tongue and fingers from her body and pulled Angela around to face him. Before she had time to register what was happening, the magic tongue was in her mouth. She kissed back, smacking lips with this total stranger that had just invaded her body in a way she’d never dreamed was possible, then the sick bastard raked his tongue across her cum-soaked face, jerking his cock with her panties until he came.
As the intense feeling of pleasure began to fade, leaving her feeling empty inside, Angela began to shake. The rational, scientific part of her brain told her extreme arousal was just a natural effect of the physical stimulation, but the Angie in her was giving her a mental thumbs-up for her A+ slutiness. Then, the world shimmered, and the two men winked out of existence, as though they’d been a dream. She had only the briefest glimpse of another Mike, skinny and missing teeth, his mouth wide open, looking as shocked as she felt. Then, it was gone, and she was naked, covered in saliva and her own cum, while Angie’s clients bumped fists as bros are wont to do.
