He made her feel used and humiliated in all the ways that she wanted and needed – and she loved him for it.
Each day he would take her out the back and have her strip naked, close her eyes, and spread her pussy for inspection. Then she would hear some shuffling of feet, and a sound that may or may not be a man masturbating.
Sometimes, something warm and wet and sticky would splatter on her open cunt, and then be pushed up inside her by a pair of fingers before the outside of her cunt was wiped clean by a wet cloth.
Then after some time had passed he would have her open her eyes, and dress. And he would tell her that someone she knew had come by, and looked at her, and masturbated, and ejaculated on her pussy. Sometimes he would tell her it was a male friend. Sometimes one of her school teachers. Sometimes a co-worker. Once he told her it was her brother.
And she would never know if he was telling the truth, whether the sperm of someone she talked to every day had been pushed into her cunt, whether someone she knew and trusted had used her as a masturbation aid, or whether he had just looked at her and shuffled his feet and dripped warm baby oil on her pussy and lied to her.
But she would think about what she must have looked like every time she saw these people, blush every time she looked in their face, and wonder if when they looked at her face they pictured her splayed, slutty cunt…
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