All in the Eyes
Amy loved Mick. It was very simple actually. There was nothing in the world that could tear her away from him. And it wasn’t just his winning smile or fun personality. No, those helped, but maybe what Amy enjoyed most were his fantasies.
Having always had a very amped up sex drive, Amy was glad to meet a guy who seemed able to keep up with her. She wasn’t a slut or anything, at least in her eyes. Though there were times when she would engage in a little risky public behavior.
It was during one of these times that she first felt his eyes on her.
No, it wasn’t Mick’s eyes. Not that anything was flawed about her boyfriend’s eyes. It’s just that the eyes she felt were much more... intense. She wasn’t even sure where they came from. It was simply that feeling everyone gets once in a while, the feeling of being watched, stared at.
Amy and Mick had sat down for the movie Tron Legacy. Surprisingly the theater wasn’t as crowded as it could have been, leaving many rows empty and most viewers scattered about. As the lights lowered, so did Amy’s hand, fumbling briefly with Mick’s zipper.
In no time his cock was growing, swelling in her hand. Her eyes lowered away from the screen, watching the throbbing member, enjoying how it responded to her touch.
She thought about swallowing it, just lowering her head right there in the theater. Odds were nobody would notice, but she wasn’t some slut. She just had an adventurous side and Mick seemed to more than enjoy it.
As he strained not to moan and kept his eyes on the screen, only briefly looking down at her hand, fingers clenched tighter and tighter, Amy grinned.
That was when she felt the eyes on her. She slowed down her thrusting, the up and down steady pace becoming slightly more jerky. Looking around in the dim light of the theater, she found him.
He was sitting behind them, his seat slightly raised. She stopped pumping Mick’s dick. Surely there was no way he could see what she was doing. The seat backs prevented too much of a view and it was far too dark.
Still, there was no doubt. The man was staring straight at her, eyes deep brown and somehow even that color distinguishable in the reflected light from the big screen. He noticed her looking up at him and nodded.
Amy wasn’t sure why, but she lifted her hand momentarily from Mick’s cock and waved. Then she looked over at her boyfriend who seemed curious as to why the hand job had suddenly stopped.
Seconds later, Amy had forgotten the feeling of eyes on her and was vigorously finishing Mick off. Her popcorn had some extra salty butter soon enough. But still, in the back of her mind, something seemed off.
It wasn’t until a week later when Amy felt the eyes on her again. She was in the grocery store, browsing with Mick, when he pulled her around a corner and pressed up against her. It was just a kiss, nothing graphic, but as soon as he touched her lips, she felt the eyes on her from somewhere else.
Somehow Amy knew it was the same pair of eyes. Even if her conscious mind didn’t fully acknowledge it.
She looked around, and there he was. The man was standing by the frozen food, nearly frozen in his posture. Others passed by him, never paying him much mind. But he simply stared, right at Amy. Once again, as Mick gave her breasts a quick grope and ended the kiss, the man nodded. And again, as before, Amy found herself giving him a wave.
Minutes later, the event was forgotten and Amy and Mick left the store having a pleasant day.
Amy nearly forgot her mystery man for a couple of weeks. She enjoyed many more intimate encounters and never once had the feeling of being watched. One thing she did notice was that the encounters didn’t seem to have the same passion behind them. Maybe subconsciously she was distracted, thinking about the theater that day, or imagining what the acts might feel like in a more public setting. She just wasn’t sure.
Then one day, she was passing the bulletin board at school when she saw an ad that just jumped right out at her. It wasn’t so much the wording as it was the imagery on the sheet.
The small poster had a cropped image of a man’s face, not giving too much away except for his eyes, deep brown and intense looking. They stared out from the poster, seeming to follow her as she passed by.
Amy stopped and approached the board. She studied the eyes, the intensity of that stare. Her cheeks flushed and she began breathing slightly quicker, her hand feeling suddenly eager to stroke a large shaft. Everything flooded back into her and she felt drawn to the ad.
It was an advertisement for a photography studio. My Eyes studio, photos by Don, she read. Basically, Don, it seemed was looking for college age girls to photograph, for art portraits and with the potential to earn some pay as models.
Amy had always known she was attractive. Within her group of friends, she was the only one that had steady boyfriends, and everyone envied her large chest, naturally pale skin, bright eyes, and silky brown hair. She smiled, thinking about how nice it might be to surprise Mick with some art photos for his birthday.
She looked briefly up at the eyes again, feeling almost dizzy, but recovering and walking off, but not before she took one of the phone numbers from the bottom of the poster.
Less than a week later, Amy was sitting in front of the camera in Don’s apartment.
The man had called out from some back room as she entered. He simply told her to take off her coat and find a comfortable place in front of the camera. She walked in and found a small set up, with a rich burgundy backdrop. In front of it were set a chair, a small leather couch, and a plush white rug.
Amy laid her coat on a side table and went to the chair. As she sat there, she looked around, studying the space. It was a typical apartment, nothing too fancy, nothing all that out of the ordinary. She briefly wondered why nobody else was here. She assumed that like many artists, maybe the photographer simply preferred working in silence.
“Hey there, sorry about the delay. I had some prints drying in the...” His voice simply trailed off as he saw her, a smile crossing his face.
Amy looked over and nearly shivered as she recognized those eyes. The poster had seemed familiar, but many people had brown eyes. Something was different about this man’s, about Don’s.
“Well, this is a pleasant surprise.” Don said, approaching and offering his hand.
Amy looked up into his eyes, raising her hand and letting him lightly shake it. She felt the warmth of his skin, the caress of his fingers over hers, and realized suddenly it was the same hand she’d been jacking off Mick with when she first felt this man’s eyes on her.
Don let go, seemed to look puzzled, then nodded. “Name’s Don, what’s yours?”
Amy felt that nod shake her from her trance. She looked around briefly, almost forgetting herself in the memories of this man’s stare.
“Um, oh sorry. My name’s Amy. I saw your poster.”
“Yes, I imagined you might.” He said. “You know, it may be fate or something, but I’ve had my eye on you for a while now.”
Amy shivered, suddenly feeling chilled in her short sleeve top and skirt. She looked down, blushing. “You, you have?”
Don smiled, then quickly turned and walked back to the camera. As he adjusted the tripod, he continued talking. “Yes, Amy. You have a quality I recognized right away, a passion if you will. I know a good model when I see one. Trust me Amy there is a lot of potential inside you.”
For some reason, the words ‘inside you’ seemed to resonate deep within her gut. Amy twitched a little, feeling the room spin and looking over as Don flipped on the camera with a whining buzz.
“So tell me, Amy. What is it you’d like to get out of these photo sessions?”
Amy straightened up. “Sessions?”
“Well yes, of course it will take several sessions to really see your potential. I think you and I are going to be together for a long time.”
He smiled and Amy shivered again, the word ‘together’ echoing in her mind.
“I thought, well I thought maybe my boyfriend might enjoy some artsy pictures of me.”
Don frowned and adjusted the camera a little. “Oh really? Your boyfriend, what is his name, if I may ask?”
“Mick.” Amy said, grinning as she pictured her wonderful man.
Don leaned over, looking through the viewfinder, making a couple of small tilts to the angle of the camera, then looking up at Amy.
“Mick huh? Well, you strike me as a girl who probably needs a real man, not a boy. Tell me, is Mick a boy or a man?”
Amy thought about the question as Don snapped a few pictures. “He’s a man. I mean he’s my age.”
Don snapped a few different shots, raising and lowering the camera only slightly. When he looked up he was grinning, his dark eyes as intense as ever.
“Ah, but Amy, you’re a college girl, right?”
She wasn’t sure what he meant, but simply nodded. “I guess so. Why?”
“Well if Mick is the same age, that makes him a college boy.”
Amy couldn’t fault the logic. Sure, she figured. “I guess it makes sense. So he’s a boy.” She said.
Don lowered behind the camera again, his intense eyes fading but somehow remaining like afterimages in Amy’s eyes. “You see, Amy, a girl like you needs a man.”
Amy was getting confused at this point. She wanted to question why this man was even asking so much about Mick. She wanted to ask why he seemed so interested in her. But every time she thought about asking, his steely stare caught her and she ended up smiling for the camera.
“Amy, there are girls out there for Mick. He strikes me as a good guy. Nothing wrong with that. But you, you’re a very special girl, one with an appetite I imagine isn’t fed nearly enough in this world.” He paused, looked over the camera. “Lower the shoulder of your shirt. Yes, just pull it down, exposing more of your neck.”
Amy did as instructed, pulling her right sleeve down, exposing the creamy white skin of her shoulder. As she smiled and thought about what the man was saying, she let him go on flashing photo after photo.
“I knew it from the moment I saw you, Amy. I have an eye for these things. You’re a very sensual being aren’t you?”
“I guess so.” Amy said.
“Nonsense, no guessing about it. You are a sensual being. You have that body and your mind for a reason. Tell me the truth, you think about your body a lot, right?”
Amy blushed and he snapped more pictures. She bit lightly at her lip. “I... well... I think about it, yes.”
“You know, men probably think about it too.”
“They do?” Amy asked.
“Oh yes, of course. A body like yours draws all kinds of looks I bet. I mean, it’s not perfect, but you are an amazing looking girl. Think of yourself as a work of art. Men appreciate your kind of art, so they naturally are drawn to you, in thought. I bet you are the subject of more fantasies than you know.”
Amy was shivering now as Don spoke. She felt her pulse quicken and her nipples harden as he continued.
“Why don’t you put one leg up, lift your skirt above the knee?”
Amy did as instructed and Don removed the camera from the tripod. He got down on one knee and began snapping various angles, getting close ups and more interesting shots as she assumed better poses.
“You’re a natural at this, Amy. Though next time, I’d like it if you wore something more revealing, maybe a strapless top and skirt that conforms more to your thighs. You know, something silky.”
She wanted to say no, but Don’s compliments today were already filling her with pride. She didn’t want to insult him. He was an artist after all, and had paid her the ultimate compliment of saying she herself was a work of art.
“Okay, I guess. So when should I come back?”
Don snapped a few more pictures, moving in tighter on her face. Then he stopped, checked the back of the camera, and turned away. “How about we make you my regular appointment weekly, this time of day?”
Amy smiled as he looked back at her, the intensity in his eyes more than captivating. They seemed to mesmerize her as he swept up and down her body. “Okay, sure. I’ll be here next week then.”
“Great, see you then. And don’t forget what I asked you to wear.”
The week passed quickly and somehow, Amy couldn’t get Don out of her thoughts. Even when she was with Mick, she often thought of Don. She wondered why the man had such a charm or charisma. It simply seemed he invaded her thoughts and she couldn’t wait until it was time for their next session.
She got up early the next week and planned her outfit carefully. She found a skimpy top that was just slightly too tight for her large breasts. She debated wearing a bra, but ultimately decided Mick might prefer pictures of her looking sexy without one. She found a skirt that wrapped closely to her upper thighs and barely reached her knees. Then she brushed her hair, making it really shine.
When she arrived at Don’s apartment, his studio, she was nearly fluttery with anticipation. Once again, he was in the back and asked her to go in, get comfy in front of the camera.
She again chose the chair, figuring Don would tell her if she needed to be anywhere else. As she waited, she wondered if she’d made good decisions in her choice of clothing. One whistle from Don as he strolled in was more than enough assurance. She blushed as he stared at her.
“Wow, Amy, just wow!” Don said. He quickly went and turned the camera on, looking over it at her. “Now this is more like it. You really are a special girl. See, now this is more what you need. It’s a style that tells the world you need a man, not a boy.”
Amy thought about Mick. Was he really a boy? She grinned though, when Don nodded at her a moment later, all doubts of Mick leaving as she went into posing mode for the photographer.
“So tell me, Amy. What made you choose these clothes today?”
As Don began snapping pictures, moving around, kneeling, Amy tried to think clearly. It wasn’t easy with such intense eyes scrutinizing her. “I think I wanted something sexy that Mick might enjoy seeing.”
Don lowered the camera, a visible frown crossing his face. “Oh Amy, we talked about that, didn’t we? Mick is just a boy. You need a man. Men know how to handle little girls like you.”
Something seemed insulting in how he said that, Amy thought. But as he began snapping pictures, she almost forgot what it was that bothered her and thought about the words. She needed a man? She had Mick, right?
Don moved around, then got on his knees not three feet away from the chair. “You are right, you know, Amy. Sexy is better. I think it’s your type of girl. All girls have a type you know. Some are bookish. Some are brainy. Some are like you. I’m not positive, but sexy seems to fit.”
Amy blushed and smiled sweetly for the camera.
Suddenly Don stopped. He put a finger to his chin, scratching for a second or two. Then he looked over Amy’s legs and up to her face. “Amy, why don’t you pull your top down a little, show off more of your chest?”
She felt embarrassed but looked down at her top. It was already revealing enough to her, but Don was the artist. She tugged lightly, lowering the strapless top, allowing more of her pillowy breasts to pop up into view.
“Great, great, hold like that for a second.”
Amy remained as he instructed, hands still poised on her chest, pulling her top down, leaned a little forward so her large breasts nearly swelled up towards the camera. She grinned, biting softly at her upper lip.
“I knew I was right about you, Amy. You’re a girl who has very specific needs and definitely one of those is a man. It’s natural though. I mean you’re the kind of girl that draws men’s eyes. They look at you for very specific reasons. And why shouldn’t they? I mean you have what men want.”
Don stood and began snapping photo after photo, aiming much of the time straight down at Amy’s breasts. He wasn’t even getting her face in half the shots, simply shooting every inch of her exposed flesh.
Suddenly he paused and walked away. When he turned, his eyes were very intense, and he seemed bothered by something.
“Is anything wrong?” Amy asked. “Do I need to change my pose?”
Don smiled. “Yes, a bit. Pull your top down a little more.”
Amy complied, tugging slowly until her top barely rest above nipple level. She smiled nervously.
Don simply kept watching, eyes focused on her. “Lower, still lower. Just a little lower.”
Amy kept tugging, pulling at the top each time he instructed. Suddenly she felt something she knew hadn’t been intended. She looked down to find both nipples sitting just atop her lowered strapless top. She was exposing her breasts to Don.
She began to pull back up when Don raised his voice. “No, no Amy. You had it perfectly.”
“But my... my...” She started to ask.
“They look perfect. Just as I suspected.” Don said. He grinned and she found herself caught in his gaze. The word ‘perfect’ resonated and she sat back, released her top and allowed Don to begin taking topless photos of her.
“Excellent job. Great look you have. You’re a natural.” Don said, moving around, snapping picture after picture.
Soon Amy was more than comfortable, even hefting one of her breasts up and out of her top, licking the upper swells of her flesh, lowering her eyes as instructed by Don.
Eventually, he seemed to tire of her breasts and walked back to the tripod, setting the camera on it. He looked back and studied Amy.
She waited on him to speak, still sitting there, top pulled down around her belly, nipples hard and slightly damp from her licking.
“You know, Amy, you were meant for this. I can just tell. I think sexy though, may have been the wrong word.”
“Oh really?” Amy asked. “I’m not sexy?”
Don smiled. “Well, of course many may say you’re sexy. I just think maybe the word you’re looking for is something different.”
“Like what?”
Don grinned and nodded. Amy felt giddy seeing him nod at her. Her thighs shivered. “I think a boy might be tempted to call you sexy. But we both know you’re beyond any boy. Men know what you are, and they know how to use you.”
Amy shivered as the words ‘use you’ resonated deep in her mind.
Don began packing up the camera, checking some connections to the lighting. Then he turned to Amy still sitting there looking momentarily lost.
“You can go ahead and leave for the week, slut.”
He said it so casually, Amy almost missed it. But when she did hear it, she felt a combination of being insulted and turned on simultaneously.
“But I’m not... I’m not a...” She said.
Don looked up as Amy slowly pulled her top back up, standing and looking very confused.
“A slut?” Don asked. “Come on Amy. You know inside you there’s a slut waiting to break out. It’s what I saw inside you that day in the theater. I knew you were a special girl. Men can recognize these things. Boys can’t.”
Amy gathered her things and walked to the door. As she was about to leave, Don called out. “Oh and Amy, next week don’t wear any panties.”
Something seemed wrong about that, but the only question that came to mind was something else. “What kind of top should I wear?”
Don smiled, carrying his camera with him as he walked by her, his eyes locked on hers. “Doesn’t matter, Amy. You won’t be wearing it here. I plan on getting some good shots of your slutty body. Sound like fun?”
Amy wanted to say no. She felt like she should. But something inside her twitched with anticipation. So she simply nodded and smiled. “Okay.”
The week seemed to drag on forever. Amy found herself dressing much more to how Don said she was. Mick seemed pleased, but Amy felt unable to really care what Mick thought. He was a nice guy and all. But he was just a boy. She realized that now. It was strange how she hadn’t really noticed before. Boys just were... well they were boys. She needed a real man, a man who knew what sluts like her were good for.
The word slut kept slipping into her mind all through the week. Amy knew she was a slut. Maybe she’d always known. Mick was still the only one she’d have sex with so maybe slut was a strong word. But she was still at the core, a little slut. She made sure to dress appropriately so the world, and most especially the men in that world knew she was a slut.
The following week finally arrived and Amy showed up early, wearing a short skirt, shortest one she owned, no panties beneath, and an old t-shirt she knew didn’t really matter.
This time Don was waiting and as soon as she walked in, he strolled casually up to her and smiled, his piercing gaze instantly making her tummy jump inside.
“Lose the shirt slut, and get over there on the couch.”
Amy smiled. “Okay.”
She quickly stripped off the top, tossing it to the floor and rushing over to the leather couch, breasts jiggling and bouncing all over the place.
Don didn’t speak at much for the first ten minutes or so. He simply snapped picture after picture, occasionally walking over to tilt her chin up allowing for a more expansive view of her jiggling college rack. He seemed to enjoy positioning her, and eventually Amy was fully at ease letting the man squeeze her breasts up and snap picture after picture of them squished together for the camera.
“You look hot. Very nice for a slut.” Don said. He lowered the camera and studied her.
Amy could feel his eyes on her body. She knew he was pleased, but there seemed to be hesitation in him. “Is anything wrong, Don?” She asked.
“Hmm... well maybe.” He studied her some more. She was lying on her belly on the couch, chest lifted up, breasts proudly displayed. He walked around behind her, then looked sternly at her face. “I know what it might be. Lose the skirt.”
Amy blushed. “Um, I don’t know. That’s a little much right?”
Don nodded at her, his eyes intensifying. He almost looked angry for a moment. “Amy, what are you?”
She wasn’t positive what he was asking. “Err, a girl?”
“Yes, but what kind of girl?”
Suddenly it clicked. She blushed a little. “A slutty girl?”
Don smiled. “Naturally. And slutty girls like men seeing their nude bodies.”
Amy thought for a moment. She couldn’t fault logic like that. She was a slutty girl. That much was clear. She stood up and unzipped the side of her skirt, letting it drop and stepping out from it. Naturally, having not worn panties, she realized Don was now seeing every inch of her. Something about that seemed both wrong and yet very right.
“Perfect. Now that’s the body of a real slut. I mean sure, your tits could be a bit bigger, and maybe you’re too smart to really make men fully satisfied, but Amy, you definitely are nothing but a slut.”
For some reason any protests Amy wanted to sound were swallowed up in her throat. Instead she found herself momentarily lost in his eyes, his deep brown eyes. All she could say was, “Thanks.”
For the next half hour, Don took picture after picture, getting her into position after position, making her spread her legs, touch herself, lean back and bite on the tip of her pinky while her other hand worked over her clit. He had her pose in ways Amy had never imagined, each one furthering the belief in her mind that she was nothing but a slut.
“Excellent job.” Don said. “Very hot, very slutty. You have me turned on quite a bit from that shoot.”
Amy looked from Don’s mesmerizing eyes down over his chest to his crotch. She was captivated by how bulging his pants were. She felt a sense of pride at having been that good a model for him.
“Why don’t you take care of me while I reload some film in the camera, okay?” Don said.
Amy wasn’t sure what he meant, but as he walked over to a table and pulled out a chair, she saw what he had in mind. Don unzipped his pants as casually as ever. Then he pulled a large, throbbing cock from his pants and let it simply stand at attention while he sat to unload the camera filled with her nude pictures.
After a second or two, Don looked over at her, rolled his eyes, and seemed frustrated. “Amy, get over here and suck you little slut.”
“But... but...” Amy said, even as she stood from the couch.
“But what? This is what sluts like you are good for.”
Amy found herself kneeling next to the chair, her hand instinctively grabbing hold of Don’s firm cock. “But, what about Mick?” She asked.
Don laid the camera down and glared at her. “I told you already about him. He’s a boy. You need a man. A man knows how to handle sluts like you. All you’re good for is having a cock stuffed inside you. Isn’t that right?”
Amy continued jacking her fist up and down off his cock. She tried to think clearly but every time she found a reason why what he said wasn’t true, she caught herself staring up into those eyes. Finally, she shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
Don grinned. “Well trust me, I’m an artist, and I’m sure. You need some work, maybe a few gallons of cum stuffed inside your holes, but trust me Amy. You’re nothing but a slut. And sluts are only good for one thing really.”
Amy shivered as he said this. It seemed so wrong but the more wrong it seemed, the righter she felt it become. She licked her lips and opened wide.
“That’s it, suck hard, you little slut.” Don said a few minutes later as Amy kneeled bobbing her head up and down, quickly bringing him to a quick and powerful climax. She held the sperm in her mouth and stood up to go to the bathroom.
“Where are you going?” Don asked.
Amy merely looked at him and pointed to her mouth.
Don laughed. “You’re a slut. Sluts always swallow.”
Amy wasn’t sure she wanted to, but it suddenly seemed wrong not to swallow. She opened her mouth, showing Don his thick creamy load, then tilted her head back and gulped his seed down.
It tasted strange but better than any cum she’d ever gotten tastes of from Mick. She shivered under Don’s watchful gaze. She liked that look. And she loved the taste of an older man on her tongue.
As Don finished reloading the camera, he turned quickly and got a few candid shots of Amy, tiny dribble of semen running from the corners of her mouth. He grinned. “You’re a real slut, Amy.”
She smiled and thanked him.
“Now why don’t you go for the day. I think we have plenty to work with. I’ll see you next week.”
Amy gathered her clothes and when she was passing by Don to leave, he reached out and grabbed her ass, spinning her to him.
“Yes?” She said.
“Next week, I think it’s time you realized your full potential. I want you to be ready for some more intimate pictures. Well, maybe the word intimate doesn’t fit.” He seemed to think for a second, his fingers massaging her thigh. “Let’s just say we’re going to fully initiate you into embracing that slut inside.”
Amy left, and for much of the week she nearly came in her panties each time she thought about whatever Don could mean. She found herself dressing downright slutty in all her classes, having gone out and purchased clothing the old Amy never would have dared wear. The guys seemed to like it, but most of them were just boys like Mick.
Mick seemed somewhat bothered for the first time, and Amy knew why. She was no longer paying as much attention to him, not providing him with the hand jobs or blow jobs she used to occasionally enjoy.
It wasn’t as though Amy didn’t have these things on her mind. She was now constantly thinking of sex. She found it hard to study, difficult to pay attention in class. It was impossible not to think of men and their thick, throbbing cocks. She wanted more of Don. She wanted his cum on her tongue. The taste had been ambrosia and she needed more of it.
Finally the day arrived again and she showed up at Don’s apartment. She started to open the door, but found it locked. She felt flustered but simply knocked and gave the doorbell a couple of rings.
A few minutes later, Don swung the door open. She smiled up at him, her eyes pleading to get inside and start their session. But today, Don stood in the door. He wouldn’t let her pass.
“Is something wrong?” Amy asked.
Don smiled, his intense eyes boring into her soul. He simply nodded and pointed down.
Amy wasn’t sure where the idea came from. It just seemed to pop into her head and she was more than happy to comply as she dropped to her knees and quickly unzipped him.
In seconds, she was slobbering all over his cock, bobbing her face up and off it as she gave a very public blow job right in his door. She heard a gasp once, maybe twice from somewhere behind her, but Amy couldn’t care less who saw this. She needed this cock. She needed him fucking her face raw. And most of all, she needed his cum spewing down her throat.
Don grabbed the top of Amy’s head. He began thrusting his hips harder, fucking her skull and sending his cock deep down her throat. Amy made little choking noises but loved it. She couldn’t get enough of Don’s manly member. She wanted it to blast her stomach full. She wanted those gallons he had mentioned. It was nearly all she could think of.
And then he started to cum, and it was in jerking sprays of semen, flooding her belly, coating her tongue, filling her mouth until it spilled out and dribbled from her chin to the old t-shirt she had worn.
Don slipped from her lips and smiled. He looked down patting her on the head. “Yes, Amy, that’s a good little slut. Now come on in and get those clothes off. I have a fun day planned for you.”
Amy stood on weak knees, her own desire amped up from performing like such a desperate slut. She entered the apartment and began stripping right away, dropping her clothes on the floor as she walked over to the couch.
As Don began photographing her, having her do depraved things such as stuff her fingers up inside her cunt, and squeezing hard on her tits, until they turned red and throbbed a little, he told her more about how special she was.
“Oh wow, Amy, you really were meant for this. I’m not sure what you think your slutty brain needs by going to college, but you have a body that was meant to be used. It was meant to be fucked until unable to contain any more cum. That’s what you are, Amy, a cum soaking little slut. And you’re a natural too.”
Don moved around photographing her, his words absorbed into her mind, her thoughts, her deepest recesses. Amy never questioned his poses, his directions for her. She simply grinned and enjoyed being his model, his slut.
“You know what?” Don said after finishing up a roll of film.
“What’s that?” Amy said, finishing off her own frantic masturbation.
“I think I’d like to take you on as my own personal slut.”
Amy was beyond words. She swelled with pride at such an unexpected compliment. Then she remembered Mick, the boy she used to find fascinating and handsome.
“What about Mick?” She asked.
At this Don laid the camera down and walked back over to her. “Are you still with him? I told you, he’s a boy. No slut like you deserves a mere boy. You need a man.”
Don paused and grinned, nodding his head. “Here, let me show you what you need.”
Amy was about to ask what he meant, when he grabbed her shoulder and pulled her up off the couch. He led her over to the table and pushed her forward over it. As she braced herself looking back over her shoulder, she watched Don drop his pants and stroke at his very hard and thick shaft.
“This ought to show you what a man can do, where a mere boy might simply try.”
Don stepped in behind Amy and rubbed his erection up and down her ass. She moaned and found herself pressing back unconsciously. She looked forward, biting her lip and sighing.
“What... ooh... what are you going to do?”
Don held his cock just outside the lips of her pussy, teasing her, making her whimper. He leaned over and whispered in her left ear. “It’s simple Amy. I’m going to fuck you until I fill you with cum. That’s all this hole of yours is good for. You’re a living breathing cum receptacle and I’m going to use you as one. Hopefully this will drive home the point that you’re mine now. Get rid of what’s his face, and come here to live with me. I’ll do what a man can and fuck you all day long. I’ll fucking knock you up like a slut should be. I’ll find a way of making your tits even bigger. I’ll make you nothing but a brainless little whore for me to use and sell out to my friends. That’s what I’m going to do.”
Amy almost orgasmed just from hearing his plans. She thrust back, stabbing her pussy on his cock and groaning as he began rocking into her.
Slowly, and then faster, deeper, with jabbing thrusts, Don fucked the life out of Amy. He grabbed her hips and pounded her like the slut she was. He reached around, playing with her nipples, squeezing her tits, then reached up and grabbed hold of her hair.
“Oh fuck... Amy, you were made for this. I’m going to shoot so much more than pictures of you. I’m going to shoot cum inside you until to pass out! All your days are going to be spent perfecting the slut inside and getting rid of that stupid college education you have.”
Amy moaned, screaming out every few seconds, rocking back at Don as hard as he was rocking into her. She thought about what he was saying. She pictured herself as his slut, his eager little cum container. She pictured him fucking her stupid, quite literally. She orgasmed constantly as he sent his cock into her depths.
“Ohhh... Oh... Oh Fuck meeeee!” Amy cried out.
Don continued describing everything she was and what her real purpose had always been. He described his plans in depraved detail, how he would take her in public, fuck her like a slut, let her walk around with his cum bloating her belly, dribbling down her thighs in streams. He told her of how he’d use her as a whore, loaning her out if he saw fit, but always getting to fill her with his cock at the end of the day.
Amy whimpered in blissful pleasure as Don finally seized up inside her cunt. He pressed deep, burrowing into her womb and blasting her full of cum. She hadn’t experienced the thrill of having a man use her and fill her with his seed. It was what she’d always dreamed of, what she always needed.
As Amy lay forward over the table, Don pulled his cock from her and sat down, loading more film in the camera. He stood and began taking shot after shot of Amy fully fucked, sperm running freely from her wide open cunt. He laughed and told her how these shots would look great posted online. He wanted to send some to Mick, just so the boy knew what a real man could do.
Amy simply smiled and tried to recover from such an intense fucking.
As she later got dressed, Don walked over and met her at the door. “Now Amy, I think we both know what you need to do. Dump Mick. He’s a simple boy, and boys aren’t what you need. You need a man, a man like me who can fill you all up and make you the bloated cum slut we know you were meant to be.”
Amy smiled. “Yes, you’re right, Don. I need someone like you, and I want you to do everything you promised.”
She stared into his eyes, grinning like a little school girl. The intensity of the brown made her weak in the knees, the darkness filled her mind with devious ideas. And when he nodded, she nearly orgasmed again just from knowing he planned on making her his own personal slut.
That very week, Amy broke up with Mick. She could hardly stand to look at him anymore. His goofy smile, his childish body. He was a mere boy. She needed a man. Only a man could fuck her into a stupor like Don had. And only a man could make her the perfect slut, only good for taking a cock inside her.
She dropped out of school, packed up her bags, and one week later went to Don’s door with everything she owned.
Knocking at the door, Amy felt others looking at her. She knew they were looking at a real slut, dressed as she was in micro-skirt and tube top. She couldn’t care less what they thought of her. Only one man’s eyes made her twinge with anticipation and soon enough he opened the door, grinning at her.
“Ready for your new life, slut?”
She melted under his gaze. “I’m your fucking slut, of course I’m ready!”
And with that, Don opened his pants, grabbed Amy and was soon fucking her right there against the doorframe, lifting her up and down his cock, grabbing at her tits whenever he could.
Neighbors from surrounding apartments looked on in disgust as Don showed Amy what a slut was truly like. He fucked her hard and deep, letting everyone see just what a little whore she was.
Amy moaned, feeling that incredible erection stab up into her. She held the doorframe with one hand, played with her nipples with the other. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the beginning of her new life as Don’s slut.
“Oh fuck... you’re tight, Amy. I’m sure I’ll loosen you up in time. For now though...”
And with that, Don spewed the first thick load of cum straight up into Amy’s belly. She felt it filling her, spraying her womb with heat. She loved that sensation. She never again wanted to go anywhere without a belly full of seed.
Pulling Amy inside, Don didn’t get many pictures taken that day. Most of the time was spent with Amy on her knees, either sucking him hard, or letting him fill her with more juicy sperm. Impressively, Don managed to fuck her three times before he needed to take a break and get some food in him.
Amy lay there splayed across the couch, thick cum dripping from her ass, running in rivers from her cunt, and plastering her face and tits. She loved the feel of it on her skin, in her body. She forgot all about that boy, whatever his name had been. She only saw Don. He was an artist, one who painted beauty into the world. And now he had her as a canvas. She only hoped he painted her white every day.
Over the following months, Amy grew accustomed to being a slut. She enjoyed being used for sexual pleasure by Don, and knew that no matter what others might think, only his cock could ultimately satisfy her.
She even saw that boy, the one whose name she could no longer remember. She saw him at the theater one evening while she was busy bouncing up and down in Don’s lap, sending his cock straight into her already saturated womb. Most of those watching seemed to enjoy. The boy she used to be with seemed bothered.
She saw him in the grocery store one day also. Naturally, she was on her knees, just out of sight of most customers, busily sucking off Don. She just loved drinking his cum. But then she saw that boy again. He seemed to be startled at first, then simply took a few minutes to watch. She gave him a nice show, letting Don pull out and spray his seed liberally all over her face. Nothing was quite like walking out of a store, knowing everyone could see sperm spattered on your face.
But the boy seemed to sigh and walk off. Oh well, Amy figured. He’d be a man one day. Until then, he just had to watch. She giggled a lot more than she used to. Don said that was because he was making her stupid. When she asked how, he simply looked at her, told her to trust him, and gave her that nod that could make her weak in the knees.
Amy enjoyed becoming stupid. She almost enjoyed it as much as taking a cock. Almost, but not quite. One thing she definitely enjoyed was having her tits grow. By the time she realized they were getting heavier and fuller, Amy was far too dumb to understand how Don explained it. But she was very eager to see how big they got. And she loved when he pulled out the camera and took photos of her.
She saw the magazines that bought these photos. They were filled with sluts like her. But only she was so stuffed with cum that she looked pregnant. Don tried to explain one day that she really was pregnant, but Amy simply giggled and went back to sucking his cock. All she cared about was fucking, having a hard cock plowing into her. It was what she was made for, why she existed.
Deep inside, Amy knew something had happened that day she was giving what’s his name a hand job in the theater. She knew something had changed. But all she could really remember was the man with the piercing stare, the man who’d changed her life, who’d made her the slut she now was. He had her from the moment they locked eyes. He would have her forever.