Chapter 6

1 - Worry

I awoke with a jolt. Something felt wrong and strange. A quick look around the room, where the hell was I? As I moved, my body felt weird, what the hell was I wearing? I threw the bedsheet back and looked down at my body. My favourite sheer, white bra was half on along with a set of hold up white stockings rolled halfway down my legs and a pink thong on. Under my body, and uncomfortable were those black straps. This wasn’t how I usually slept. Head up looking round the room as it all started to come flooding back to me.

Last night. Earlier on. Just now. Oh GOD.

I remembered it all, Cindy, the pill, the condoms, the lack of condom. I fell backwards against the bed. FUCK!

What had I done! What had Cindy done to me! My mind raced with images of what had happened.

What I didn’t expect was the mixed feelings that came with the images flooding my mind. How could I have let this happen? I let a strange man cum inside me. I can feel how wet my panties are, how little material there is, how utterly soaked I am down there. Oh god, is that really a man’s cum I can feel? My fingers moving the material around in the slime. I’ve never felt so wet, so decadent, so wrong.

A rush of pure terror courses through me. Pregnancy and disease are screaming through my mind. How could I be so stupid? How could Cindy do this to me? I felt it then and I still feel it now between my fingers in my pointless underwear.

“Ohhhhhh gggaaddddd Cindy!” I don’t even realise until I hear myself moaning for my friend. I don’t even know why I was calling for her. That evil, naughty woman that made me...

Oh, but I remembered the feelings, I refelt them somehow. My pussy throbbing, my nipples aching and tingling, my clit pulsing. Was this still the pill? How long ago did I take it? I wanted to answer the questions but my eyes still closed, I also didn’t care. I felt so nasty, so bad, so slutty, so sexual. I was still buzzing.

My fingers had now pushed the tiny undergarment to one side and were sliding around my sloppy, warm, sensitive flesh. It felt so good. I sighed, a deep long moan. Then I filled my lungs with a restorative breath and caught a wisp of my swamp-like pussy. My god, I smelt strongly. Sex and cum, pure, raw, shocking. But I liked it. I simply couldn’t get over the animal nature of the aroma that was greeting me. I was so alien but also felt so right. It was me. It was a pure me.

I shivered and I think I sort of passed out again or something.

I came to again, with my fingers still trapped inside my underwear, my mind still slightly buzzing. But I was more alert and awake this time. It was all so confusing, what was going on with me. Was I having a stroke?

The sexual tingle was going or at least diminished hugely. I had a sudden hunger and thirst. Almost primal, like my body was trying to help me. This time I sat up, moving my body back on the bed so that I was against the headboard. It banged against the wall as I did so. That made me wonder if it had done that while I was being fucked earlier? I didn’t recall it.

Looking around the room it was as I remembered. A very basic, cheap hotel room. There were no luxuries, it wasn’t freshly decorated, it was a basic room for sex. That’s when it hit me, it was like some sort of brothel and I had been the whore in it. I must have held my breath as that thought washed over me.

Cindy had made me a prostitute.

She had, hadn’t she? She offered me to that man? He’d paid her? Did that mean I was paid? No it didn’t, did it? But then on the little bedside table next to me I had my answer. Under my shoe heel was a few twenty pound notes. I just stared at them, shocked to my core. I quickly tried to explain them to my subconscious, but no, I knew what they were. That was my payment from the man that had fucked me. Christ, she had made me a whore.

My blood boiled, my heart raced, my brain raged.

And then just as quickly my nipples throbbed, my pussy tingled and my mind pushed a feeling over my entire body that simply told me ‘YES’.

Arrrgh this was all so confusing. I buried my head in my hands, the movement making my tits move and in turn making my body call for more attention. I had to get out of here and get back home. I had to take control and work out what was going on, what was next, what my options were.

I, again, scanned the room. A bathroom. I moved slowly towards the room, again feeling my body betraying me as I moved. I’d planned on a shower, but there wasn’t one. Just a sink and toilet. I didn’t need the toilet, though my slippery upper thighs may have needed attention. I did want a drink but the sink didn’t call ‘fresh clean water’ to me. As I shrugged and turned around, I realised that I’d appraised the dire situation very rational and quickly. I should be outraged at the gross situation I was in, but strangely I was calm and I noticed it.

Putting my boobs correctly into their bra, stepping into my heels, picking up my money, pulling up my stockings, wiggling into my mini skirt, then finally pulling my blouse on and doing it up. I did it all smoothly and without thought, until I caught myself in the stained mirror on the wall.

I was shocked at what I saw and how I reacted to it. I was very aware that I walked in dressed exactly like this. I was very aware that though my boobs looked big and the skirt was very short but I was respectable. A smartly dressed, if slightly provocative woman. At least that’s what I saw when I left to come here earlier today. I didn’t see a woman dressing up for a night out, a date, to draw attention.

Right now I saw a dirty slut. A whore. I saw me as the whore that I was. Car keys in one hand and my earnings in my other hand. I just stared at my own reflection, my mind wondering between serious worry and elation. I liked the look of my body, I looked hot. I looked like I was ready to fuck again. But I also saw me, my face, the real me. Emily Hammer the mother and wife.

Eventually I looked across at the bed, wondering if I was supposed to do something with the straps? Did they come with the room? Were they Cindy’s? There’s no way I was going to try to get them off the bed, and then what? Walk down the street with them? Then there was the bed. It was a bed that I’d had sex in twice. It was twice, wasn’t it? I tried to remember, the details so fuzzy. What had happened after, after what, I really couldn’t remember blanking out. That bed was a mess. Fuck it, they were used to this sort of thing, I’m sure. And where the fuck was Cindy, leaving me alone line this. Second time she’d done that now.

It was silly o’clock in the morning, I needed to get home, I needed to get back to reality. It was Sunday today, I hoped that meant work tomorrow morning. God imagine if today was somehow Monday. I checked my phone, no it was still Sunday, I quickly replied to a text from Chris, saying that I was fine and on my way back. I didn’t look at the five or so from him asking if I was ok. A glance said they weren’t out of concern, more a check in.

I managed to exit the room easily enough, passed another whore or two on the way out of the hotel. That in itself felt so peculiar. I somehow felt like I was one of them. That made me mad and the feelings that came with it made me even more furious. How was I thinking that making me horny. God darn it!

I was strangely more aware of my body as I walked through the night towards my car. Aware of the movement of my skin, the sway of my hips, the bounce of my boobs, the slickness of my pussy. I was also more aware of the looks the odd stranger gave me. I actually found myself, smirking at the obvious appreciative looks that I felt coming my way. Nearly everyone noticed me and they all appeared to like what they saw. I also felt the need for a cigarette but I didn’t want to stop to buy any.

As I walked I also worried about the sperm that was inside me doing god knows what to my insides. Was the man clean? Had he put a load of diseased shit inside me. Fuck had he knocked me up? Quick calculation on ovulation, very unlikely, not ready for a good few days. I was ashamed as my mind played over Cindy’s “you’re a dirty girl” comment. I felt my knees wobble as I walked. Fuck was she right? Did I like the risk? Was knowing that some strange bloke had put his potent seed inside me exciting me?

A couple looked at me as I walked past, nearly at my car. They were both leaning against a closed shop door. They both looked knackered and a little dirty. Were they homeless? Our eyes met, I watched them both look me up and down, both smiling at me. I couldn’t help but smile back. I really appreciated their acknowledgement of me. I started to wonder.

Luckily, I reached my car just as my mind was starting to ramp up with what if’s. What if I talked to one of them? I quickly and very carefully drove home, while enjoying a lovely cigarette that I’d earned.

2 - Work Complications

I was fucking late for work. In the 8 years I’d worked here this had never happened. Sunday was a blur of dozing, talking to Chris, strange WhatsApp messages with Cindy and trying to forget about Saturday night. This morning Chris had fucked off to work as normal but not, I dunno, got me out of bed. It was stupid that I was putting this on him. He’d never ‘got me out of bed’ before. The alarm would go off, I’d stir, he’d bring a cuppa and I’d get ready.

Today however the cuppa was there but it was cold when I eventually woke up. Somehow I guess I’d dozed through the alarms and Chris had left as normal, thinking nothing of it.

I woke up in a tizz and a mess. Managed to text my boss a sorry I’m on route, showered, ate, dressed and was here. My mind wasn’t in it and my day was a jumble. I noticed people second looking in my direction enough that I popped to the ladies to check that I didn’t have my skirt up around my ass or something.

Nope, I looked fine. My hair was ok. I didn’t have my tits or fanny out. The skirt wasn’t as short as before. I maybe looked a little more tired than usual, but there was nothing for me to worry about, I looked fine. So what were they all looking at? What was the problem? Why was I late today? Why was my mind elsewhere?

I know what was bothering me. I was turned on. Somehow, I woke up wanting a fuck, needing a cock to stretch me out, to fuck me hard and dirty. I wasn’t just horny, I needed sex and a good hard cum. This feeling was very strange to me, I’d never had this before. And I’d never not been able to take care of it. I woke up like this and didn’t have time to sort it out. Now it’s just building. I can feel my sexual energy is all off and needing a stretch, a sexual yawn if you will.

Arrrggggg how could I get any work done like this. I was half thinking about going home ill and avoiding everyone and everything but then a meeting invite from Angela appeared in my inbox. At 4pm today in the conference room. Declining wasn’t ideal. I remembered the look on her face last time when she asked those questions and showed me that picture. Arrrrgggg whatever, I’d just have to cope till then and see what she wanted.

3 - Angela

I managed to plough through the rest of the day. Pretty happy with what I managed to get done. Emails sent, people talked to, spreadsheets saved and all while managing to keep my lust under wraps. I wasn’t tired, I wasn’t ready for battle, I actually wasn’t that bothered as I entered the room seeing Angela and a woman I didn’t know in the room.

She was some HR consultant or something, I didn’t really pay attention. We passed pleasantries and Angela started to ask if I was ok?

“Yup I think so,” big smile for effect. But bugger if I moved and my left nipple had just a little too much attention against my arm. She saw me flinch from it? No, of course she didn’t.

“And your weekend, did you manage to power down and relax?” Angela asked why looking down at her tablet.

I very quickly imagined her having a picture of me on the bed in front of her. Strapped down in my underwear. I almost chucked at that thought, I bet I looked great. My mind then played a video taken by Cindy as that big bloke fucked me raw. Him between my thighs, his ass moving up and down, me secured and unaware of what he looked like. Suddenly his skin changed to black, a real dark black man was fucking me raw, “Ummmm.”

“Pardon Emily?”

Fuck had I just moaned out loud to that vision? They both looked between each other and then back at me. Fuck, what was wrong with me?

Angela tilted her head again and asked the simple question, “Your weekend, is everything ok?”

This time I cleared my mind of my real weekend activities, “Yes, thank you. Chris and I had a nice time, Claire was down on Saturday and Sunday we relaxed,” my smile as genuine as possible. She looked down at her tablet and did some stuff. I wasn’t expecting her to turn it round to show me anything, but when she did I wasn’t expecting a wall of text.

I started to look it over and my heart skipped a beat as she asked me, “Did you send this email Emily?”

I did remember writing it this morning. But I didn’t send that, did I? I re-read some of the paragraphs, it was garbage. There were typos everywhere, entire sentences unfinished, it was a mess. And yes it was to a very big customer. I re-read bits of it before looking up and passing the tablet back to her. I didn’t know what to say. I mean I wrote an email this morning but I would never send something as shoddy as that. Ohhh fuck, but I did, didn’t I?

She simply looked sadly at me and nodded. She got that I got it. She looked at the other woman, who simply nodded back at her. I looked between them, what did that mean? I was trying to form an answer, a reason, an explanation but I couldn’t. I simply didn’t understand it.

“Are you sure you’re ok, Emily?”

I nodded slowly, worried about where this was going.

“Do you remember when we asked you a few weeks ago about drugs?”

I quickly jumped onto that, “Yes and I said no, and it’s still no.” I wasn’t even concerned about it. Saturday was ages ago and well...

“Ok, thank you Emily.” Angela quickly replied to me with a smile. It looked genuine so I returned it but I was nervous.

“That email...” I didn’t really want to ask as I didn’t have an answer.

She reached across the table and put her hand over mine, “It’s ok, you’ve been honest, people make mistakes. When we’re done here please speak to Tim and let him know what’s happened so that he can sort it out.”

I was confused, this was a big deal and they were telling me that Tim, my manager would be able to sort it out. How? I wanted to know more, but something told me not to push. I’m glad I didn’t as she instantly told me they had this planned, “Emily we know that mistakes happen. That’s not a problem. But it is very out of character for you. Don’t you agree?”