Dope Slave

She was newcomer. You can always tell a new one by their hesitant manner, eyes darting about, shame and desperation in every gesture. They can't believe they're actually doing this, but they're hooked and willing to do anything to keep from getting sick. She still had enough of her former self left to have nice hair and make the effort to wear makeup. Quite good looking, too.

I rolled up to her in the windowless beater van I keep for this purpose and after one last glance around for the police she hopped in. We rumbled away and I made the first right I came to in order to get us out from under the elevated train.

"What's your name?" I asked as though I cared.

"Monique." She was still looking into the rear view mirror, scanning for cops.

"That's pretty. Mine's Bob," I was lying. My name's not Bob, and Monique is a stupid fucking name.

"Um, what do you want, Bob?"

I reached over and jerked the front of her top up around her neck, taking her bra with it. Her tits bounced loose.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" She squealed.

"I have to make sure you're not a cop."

"Oh. Okay, I guess." She nervously redid herself. "So what do you want, anyway?"

"How about we go get a room?"

"Oh, uh, I can't. I have to meet someone."

"Does that mean you're not interested in this?" I produced a ziplock bag that contained a few small bags of heroin, and a clean needle. Her eyes glazed over.

"Can I do it now?" She all but begged.

"Yeah, but do it back there. I don't want the cops to see."

She crawled into the back and settled into a crappy old love seat I have in there. It was stained and threadbare but she settled back ito its envloping softness and began to let her guard down. I pulled the van into a dark parking lot. I went back with her to watch the show. She mixed up a baggy full with some bottled water I had and shot the whole load without cooking it. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she passed out. I handcuffed her with her hands behind her back and shoved her onto the floor. I fired up the van and drove to my place, a warehouse nearby that I had bought cheap because of the lousy neighborhood.

---

She woke to a very unpleasant situation. She was naked, save the handcuffs and in a small, concrete basement room whose only decor was a filthy toilet in the corner. I sat on a folding metal chair in front of the locked, steel door, cooly smoking a cigarette.

"Where am I? Let me go! You better let me go!" she whined.

I leapt from my chair and grabbed her by the throat. "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" I screamed into her now terrified face. I smacked her with the back of my hand and bloodied her nose. It made a wonderful-sounding "CRACK!" that reverberated off the hard walls. I spat into her face for good measure.

I threw her to the floor, undid my pants and donned a rubber. She was a blubbering heap, tears streaming dirty rivers of cheap mascara down her cheeks. I grabbed the hair on the back of her head and mashed her face down to the grubby floor. Tears, makeup, dirt, spit, blood and snot made a smear of filth that I rubbed her face in. I pushed her up onto her knees and jammed my cock into her cunt, making her yelp and squirm. I pulled back on the cuffs hard enough to make her hands purple.

She was crying steadily now, and I grew ever harder inside her. I picked up my cigarette, took a long drag and just as I came, snuffed its molten tip out on her ass cheek. A deafening shriek filled the room and it felt as if there were knitting needles in my ears. Fucking cunt. I stood up, shook the last of the cum off my cock, and left. I locked the door behind me and shut off the light from the outside.

--

After a quick spin to a good restaurant on my crotch rocket I returned to the warehouse. The heavy, overhead door creaked shut behind me and I parked next to the van. It looked even older and uglier next to my sleek race-replica.

She had been alone for a while now, and I figured she was about due for round 2. Besides, I was ready for some more fun. I threw the door open with a terrific "SLAM" and flicked on the light. She winced in pain after so many hours in absolute black.

"Pleeee-he-he-he-ease let me go-o-o-o! I promise I won't g tell anyone." She tried to run and I kicked her to the floor. She was getting sick, and in no shape to fight.

"Tell anyone you want, you fucking piece of shit. No one cares what happens to a street whore."

I too her by the hair and dragged her to a large pipe on the wall. I tied her neck to it, and then the handcuffs too. She was bent over on her knees and her hands high behind her in the air. I grabbed her purse from the pile of her stuff just outside the door. I plopped it down next to her and dropped my pants. I put on a condom and squirted a big, sloppy, glob of K-Y on her asshole.

"AHHHHHHH!" she howled.

I pulled the wallet from her purse and dumped its contents on the floor. I picked up a couple of credit cards and a car registration. I swirled the head of my cock around on her asshole a few times before I stuck it in her.

"Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnngh!" she screamed into the floor as I rammed it home.

I pumped briskly into her tight anus as read from her cards. "Let's see. Monica D'Agostino. You must be from New Jersey. Yeah it says so here on your car registration. Oh, here's an address, too. Richard D'Agostino, 328 Silver Lake Drive, Evesham, NJ. Been driving daddy's car? Maybe we could go over there and tell him how his little princess is a heroin-addicted street whore now. How she gets fucked in the ass so she can get high."

She started crying again and I dropped the cards. I really started ramming it into her. With each thrust I barked a word at her: "DADDY'S - LITTLE - WHORE! DADDY'S - LITTLE - WHORE! DADDY'S - LITTLE - WHORE!" over and over until I was ready to cum.

With the last "WHORE!" I brought the palm of my hand down on the cigarette burn as hard as I could and shot my load in her ass. She nearly passed out. I stood up and cut her loose with my buck knife.

She struggled to stand but only made it to her knees before my boot pushed her face back to the floor. Several glasses of water with dinner and a cappuccino for dessert were taking their toll on my bladder. I slid the rubber off, threw it in her hair and started to piss.

I wet her from head to toe with a torrent of reeking, bright yellow urine. My kidneys ached and once the last dribble of piss had left me I had a brief fit of piss shivers.

"Look cunt, " I explained, "You can leave right now and go get high if you want. Of course, you'd have to figure out where you are and WALK how ever many miles back to your dealer. You'd also have to turn another trick so you could pay him. Good luck getting picked up when you're sick and stink like piss."

Her lower lip stuck out and quivered like a three-year-old.

"Or you can stay here until I say you're done, and I'll let you get high again." I held up another magical baggy of white powder.

I leaned into her face and sneered. "So what's it going to be, you miserable fucking excuse for a human being? Freedom, or dope?"

She let out a defeated breath and said "dope."