Did I really want to be used and abused? My fast beating heart suggested yes. I had been brought up as an only child, spoilt beyond belief, and in a very safe environment. As soon as I could, I moved out of the family home and initially shared a flat with an old school friend; but at last I had my key to my own front door.

Most of the guys who asked me out were nice, very much so, but that's not what I was looking for. I seeing a nice guy called James who lived with three other guys in this big student house. He would take me out, treat me with respect, so boring and frustrating. Even when I let him between my thighs I had to fake my passion. The other guys who lived in the same house were just as bad all except Billie. Billie always looked rough, wearing dirty Jeans and T-shirts with tattoos showing on his bare arms.

I was staying over for the night, when I got out of James's bed to go to the loo, when as I came out, there was a very drunk Billie. Before I knew it he was standing quiet close, close enough for me to smell his maleness mingled with drink. I froze, my eyes lock onto his.

"Hi yah girlie," he slurred.

"Hi," I gulped, my mind went into overdrive trying to think what I was wearing. It took a second to remember that I had redressed after my session with James, and I was again wearing a T-shirt over my white knickers. He was blocking my route back to James's bed, so I just had to stand there while his eyes travelled up and down my body.

"Nice tits," he commented, his eyes staying on them for many seconds, his words caused my nipples to harden.

"Thanks," I whispered, "can I get by please," I added. As I tried to push by him, he grabbed my short hair.

"What's the hurry girlie?" he leered.

"Please let me go," I said, but my heart was beating faster than I could ever remember.

"Let's get to know each other better," he said pulling me by the hair towards the lounge. Before I knew it he had literally thrown me onto the sofa. I didn't scream or try to run, I just lay and stared up at him.

"Legs ain't bad either," he said for my T-shirt had ridden up over my knickers. He leaned over me; his foul beery breath more evident as his face became closer to mine. One again he grabbed my hair and pulled me closer, his free hand cupped my left breast.

"Yeah, very nice," he leered, he pulled my head back painfully, causing my breast to push out more. His hand now moved from one to the other, my nipples painfully erect. Using my hair to direct my movements he positioned me over the back of the sofa, my back now towards him. I could feel his hard cock up against my bum. Still he pulled my head back again causing my breast to stick out, his free hand was all over them. Now his hand left my breasts and moved down to my knickers.

"Spread 'em slut," he whispered next to my ear; I could only just hear him, over my loud beating heart. His fingers found my wet pussy through the gusset.

"Fucking 'ell slut," he said, "you're so wet." With one swift jerking pull, he ripped my knickers off.

"Yeah, that's better," he leered; now I could feel his hard cock prodding for my pussy. It didn't take long before he found the right spot and he thrust deep inside me.

"Oh yeah, my little slut, you like that don't you?" he leered. I couldn't find any words, my mind filled with overwhelming lust. He bang into me hard for a few seconds, enough for me to come hard and long, then I felt him pump his goo inside me; soon after that he collapsed on top of me, panting hard.

"Oh fuck me, that was fucking great," he said. Then using my hair again he pulled me over onto my back. I saw his eyes move over my body, from my exposed thighs and up to my covered braless breasts.

"Get those tits out slut," he ordered. I just lay there, my big eyes staring up at him.

"I said get 'em out slut," he snarled and he backhanded me across the chest. Still I just lay there, savouring the moment. His hand tightened in my hair causing a sharp pain in my scalp. Still I just lay there, this time when he hit me, he slap me across the face.

"Get them out now!" he snarled, his face close to mine. My hands pulled my T-shirt up to my neck to expose my naked breasts to his gaze.

"Yeah that's better slut," he cooed, "nice tits," he said, his hands now all over them.

"What size are they?" he asked.

"T-they're 34 'B'," my voice back, but only just and it cracked with emotion. I could tell that mauling my breasts had got him hard again for he was kneed my thighs open. He slipped back into my wet pussy and started to bang into me hard. In complete contrast to James, he didn't care about my feelings, he was just intent on his own. This selfish treatment, in itself, stimulated me to my second orgasm. After he had come, he left me, leaving me exposed, my legs wide apart and my breasts bare. I just lay there, my skin still tingling from his slaps, his juices slowly dribbling down my thighs.

I didn't go back to James's bed, but I got dressed and went home to my own flat. I had a hot bath and went to bed, but I couldn't sleep, my mind whirling with the images of my assault. Billie had given me more pleasure in twenty minutes than James had in weeks.

I dumped James, I couldn't see him again after that night; for a week I just went to work, came home and went to bed early; I didn't know what to do. One night I had just gone to bed when someone knocked on my door.