Fuck You Bitch!

by

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, BDSM, Spanking, Humiliation, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, .

Desc: Sex Story: Tonya's husband has ran out on her and left her penniless. Her only hope for financial security lies in playing an X-rated game show against other desperate women.

This story is mine and is copyrighted by me, The Purple Herald. Please don't copy it and add it to your website and make a profit off of my hard work. Please don't strip my name off of the story and claim it for yourself. Please don't be an asshole.


By Tonya

I ignored the knocking at first. Bill collectors were coming by the hour since the phone had been disconnected. The cable was still on and I found that watching bad movies was the only way to keep from thinking about my asshole husband and his twenty-two year old lover. I turned the volume up.

"Mrs. Tonya Cook? I know you're in there and I have an offer for you!" the man outside said. "I have a check for a hundred dollars for just hearing me out."

That was unique. A hundred dollars could buy me a night out without having to ask one of my alleged 'friends' for money. Let me tell you something: if you marry a rich husband, you don't really have friends. You just have people who want to use your pool and maybe borrow some jewelry. I didn't realize this until I tried to borrow money to pay some bills. That was when my 'friends' told me to get a job and refused to give me money until I signed an IOU.

"Let me see the check," I said when I opened the door. He was a cute guy. Well dressed and wearing sunglasses that were worth more than my current bank balance, he was a breath of classy air. He was about the same age as Harold was when we meet in school.

The man handed me the check and I examined very carefully. My eyes caught him examining me too. I wonder how I looked to him. Were my roots beginning to show in my blonde hair? Was the stress beginning to appear on my face now that I was running out of my special creams? Idly, I wondered if the bathrobe I was wearing could seduce him into taking me out tonight and getting me out of this damn house where I wouldn't have to fantasize about Harold and his slut in the Caribbean.

Since the check was real, I invited him in. I'm a bit embarrassed to say I sat a bit too close to him on the couch. It wasn't because he was attractive with this curly black hair, it was because it would be nice to see if I could get a lover as young as Harold's.

"Mrs. Cook, my name is Anthony Raynor and I represent Purple Pleasure Enterprises," he said.

"Never heard of them," I said. His eyes wondered to my cleavage and I wished I had worn a bra. My d-cup tits were great, but let's face it. I wasn't as young and perky as I used to be.

"Purple Pleasure Enterprises is a company that specializes in unique entertainments," Anthony said. "We seek out women like yourself who find themselves in dire financial situations. Our company ran across your over due bills and did a little research to understand how desperate your situation was."

I frowned. "Look, my husband ran off to Mexico. According to my lawyer, the jerk wiped our bank accounts and transferred them to offshore accounts. If I declare bankruptcy and sell the house, I can stay comfortable for a little while. Yes, I'm in a fucked up position, but I wouldn't call it dire."

He smiled. "Ma'am, I disagree. You were married at twenty and have never held a job. Our files show that you have held an active financial life with multiple shopping trips across the country. Now you're thirty-four, broke and looking to sell the house just to stay above water? Ma'am, you need the offer I am about to give you."

I said nothing. One of things women of my status do not do is admit how fucked we are. He took it as a sign to continue. Smart boy.

"Purple Pleasure Enterprises runs a game show for women in your situation. We take contestants and put them through a series of games for the amusement of a very selective audience. This isn't a game show you will see on television. This is a show that sells for over five hundred dollars per episode per viewer. At these rates, we can offer a substantial cash prize to the winner as well as attractive consolation cash prizes for the losers."

I started to laugh. "This sounds like pornography to me. Desperate women contestants? Private tapes for the audience? I'm not a prude, but I am not performing sex on tape for any amount of money."

"The winner receives a million dollars, after taxes," he said.

Shit.

"You are correct about the nature of the game. It is a sexual game and you will perform acts of intercourse on film for the enjoyment of our viewers. The sex acts will be tests of endurance, flexibility and prowess. You might have to perform a blowjob in a limited amount of time. You may have to endure a set amount of intense sensations. However, we value the privacy of our contestants and masks will be provided for the game. Your last names will remain confidential and like I said, this will never be broadcast on television or cable as all of our viewers must buy the tape to watch it."

"A million dollars?" I asked. "What the fuck do the losers get?"

"About ten thousand each. Due to the nature of the game, you might lose without ever performing a sexual act."

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I started to laugh nervously. "This is unreal. You have to understand. Last month I was talking to contractors and trying to decide on whether to tile the pool in blue or red. Now you're telling me that if I fuck someone in a game show, I can sit pretty on a million dollars."

He stood up and I felt a momentary panic that he thought I was saying no. The panic surprised me because I thought I was going to say no. The confusion must have show on my face because he smiled his pretty boy smile at me and handed me his card.

"Call me by Friday and let me know what you think," he said.

The card was strange. It had a house made of glass on one side, and a weird two-headed man on the other side. A phone number was listed along with a warning that the offer will never be made again.

"Think about it," Anthony said before he left.

I did.

Friday found me on a plane bound for North Carolina. I wouldn't have guessed that North Carolina would be the home of a pornographic game show but oh well. The bill collectors were getting meaner and I was dying to go shopping with a real credit card again.

What I didn't like to think about was that I was extremely excited by the whole idea. Harold had been my first lover and over the years I had only a few experiences with other men. I had always been attractive and I had enjoyed using my sexuality to wrap men around my finger but to keep Harold from ever getting suspicious, I'd limited my adventures to men I met on my shopping trips. My sex life with Harold had been slowing down this past year and at first I wondered if it was because my body was getting older. Finding out my husband was fucking someone more than ten years younger than me didn't make me feel better.

I got off the plane and was taken to a limousine. To my surprise, Anthony was there in the car with me. He laughed at my surprise and explained that he traveled the country looking for women who would be willing to play the game.

"You still haven't explained the rules," I chided. I was looking good and feeling good. It was nice to leave my bills behind on the other side of the country. I was wearing a sexy black dress that flattered me much better than the bathrobe that I had word for the last two weeks.

"The game is called 'Fuck You, Bitch," Anthony explained. "The rules are quite simple. You and five other women will have lunch together off-camera. Then tomorrow, you'll play a game where you will be presented with a sexual challenge. You'll vote for the person you don't think can do it. Who ever gets the most votes will perform the challenge. If they fail, they are eliminated. If they succeed, they get to pick one of the women who voted for her to be eliminated. This continues till we have two women, who will compete head to head to determine the final winner."

I thought about it. "Sounds simple," I said. "If I vote for someone who wins their challenge, then they can kick me out without me ever having to do anything."

"And you still get ten thousand dollars," Anthony added.

"Let's see these bitches I have to face," I laughed.

I was shown to my hotel room first. Room service was free and I used it extravagantly. The bellboy got an eyeful of my legs, as I was feeling flirtatious. The truth be told, I was buzzing on the idea of being a millionaire. It was giving me something to hope for since Harold left.

Lunch came around and I tried to get serious. I put on a fabulous red blouse and one of my tighter pair of slacks. I may not have been working during my marriage but I had stayed in shape. I wanted each of my opponents to see that they were dealing with a wonderful sexy woman and that any challenge that comes our way, I could more than deal with it. It seemed like the key to this game was to intimidate the other women and if there was one thing Tonya Cook could do, was put women in their place.

I walked into the hotel restaurant and a waiter directed me towards the back. In a party room adjoining the main restaurant, Anthony sat at a table with five women. With my head held high and my best posture forward, I walked towards the table. My hair was flowing behind me and I was looking wonderful. Heads turned when I walked by as you can imagine and why shouldn't they? I was still hot no matter what my loser husband thought.

"Tonya, you're finally here," Anthony said dryly.

.... There is more of this story ...

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / BDSM / Spanking / Humiliation / Exhibitionism / Voyeurism /