Victim, Perfect

Content Warning: Horror, Body Horror, Noncon, Rough, Degradation, Monster

I noticed her the moment she walked in. She was young, maybe nineteen, and looked fresh as a ripe peach. Honey blonde hair cascaded to her shoulders in lush waves, only partially concealing a perfect heart-shaped face. She had dick-sucking lips, full, pouty, and they looked easily capable of sucking the chrome off a trailer hitch. 

Her body was just as mouthwatering. She was no taller than 5’3” with a waist I could easily wrap both hands around, touching fingertips to thumbs. The small waist only made her ample chest look bigger, a sea of fun bags begging to be grabbed and mauled. Her pink button-up shirt was clearly a size too small. The buttons at her chest struggled to keep her tits contained. Her simple black skirt was high, but not obscenely so, just enough to show off thick, juicy thighs and hint that it might slide up, showing a little more.

She was not the typical clientele at this bar, and I caught glimpses of the washed-up trailer trash shooting looks of pure daggers at this girl. The other guys, mostly bottom rung bikers and barflies, were also checking her out, further igniting the ire of the off-duty street whores and junky girls.

I didn’t know her, but damned if she didn’t look vaguely familiar.

“Are you Daz?” she asked, walking straight to my table.

I looked up from my magazine to see her standing nervously. I didn’t know her, and didn’t like strangers knowing my name. Usually, their opening line was, “I heard you deal…” or variations of that.

I nodded to the chair across from me, “Grab a seat.”

She glanced around nervously, clearly hesitant to get her expensive college-girl outfit dirty. Finally, she pulled out the chair and slumped into it.

Awkward silence descended between us. I waited her out, knowing it would make a sweet little college girl like her nervous. She broke, fidgeting and making the first move exactly as I knew she would. “I’m looking for a little something. I heard you can help.”

“Yeah? From who?”

“Backstreet, he talked a lot of shit about you.” Her tongue darted across her lips, smearing her perfect red lipstick.

“Oh?” I said. “So why are you here?”

“He was…” she glanced back to the door, “Arrested.”

I leaned back, enjoying the situation, which became instantly clear. She was buying from Backstreet. We sold the same shit. He was established, while I was trying to stake out a new territory. We hadn’t run into each other yet, but it was only a matter of time before we did. If what she said was true, well, it would create an opening in the marketplace that I could exploit.

“Shame for him,” I said, picking up my magazine and pretending to be into it while scoping out her tits. They wanted to bust out of her shirt so badly. Reading was an engineered move done to make her think I wasn’t interested.

“Everyone says you have bars,” she whispered while leaning into the table, giving me a peek at the ample cleavage trying to squeeze out of the top buttons that had been undone.

“I don’t know you.” I explained, “For all I know, you could be a cop.”

It was stupid and heavy, cops barely gave a shit about small-time pill pushers like me. But I wanted to see what she would do.

She leaned across the table and touched my hand with soft, delicate fingers. When she squeezed, I could imagine those fingers wrapped around my cock doing the same thing. Her eyes caught the light strangely for a second. They seemed too shiny, almost reflective, before she looked down.

“I just need a few. A deuce, maybe? Just to take the edge off.” She whispered desperately.

I liked how eager she was. She never answered whether she was a cop. And a cop, no matter how undercover, was unlikely to touch a dealer. It would confuse things during prosecution. She genuinely sounded like a rich girl in need of some little helpers. Hell, she’d even come to the shitty part of town for it. Backstreet usually trolled the university campus cafes and such. She even had a crumpled twenty in her other trembling hand, the one that wasn’t squeezing my fingers suggestively.

I fished a deuce bag from my pocket and slipped it into her hand, giving her a little squeeze. She jumped up, and for a moment I thought she was going to bolt. Instead, she threw her arms around me, slipped the twenty into my hand, and pressed her hooters hard against my chest. Her fingers were strangely cool, almost cold, and for a split second, I thought I felt something move under the skin, like a tiny ripple. I didn’t care if she had leprosy. I wanted to fuck her.

I was tempted to grab her right there, but I held back, already planning what I’d do when she came back.

With a soft, flustered laugh, she said, “Thank you, I’ll see you around…” and turned to leave. At the door, she stopped to look back, her gaze giving me a thorough once-over before a sly smile appeared, then she was gone. The working girls and street trash all relaxed once she left, giving me the occasional dagger eyes in her wake.

Once she was gone, I asked Flyod, the bartender, if anything had happened to Backstreet. He’d indeed been popped just yesterday. Bitch was desperate. I was glad I’d only sold her four. She’d be back soon.

When I got to my trailer, I was still thinking about the bitch. I got out of my clothes and flopped on the recliner, setting my battered laptop on my belly. 

As it booted up, I got her twenty out of my jeans and sniffed it. There was a musky tang lingering on the bill. Not perfume, more like a sweet sweat. Just a sniff had me dreaming of those fat cans.

Looking through my favorite site, I skimmed the usual fare… Cum Dumpster Training, Blow on my Face Daddy, I settled on a rough painal scene. Another sniff of the twenty and I imagined her as the porn star, crying, begging me to stop as I plowed into her.

And then I saw it.

The college girl was on screen. No… Not quite. On screen, the girl was a little different, with an upturned nose, brown eyes, dark roots instead of the real blonde. But damn if it wasn’t close. Close enough that with every grunt and muffled cry, I could easily imagine it was my little junky. It ended up being one of my better faps, after all, I knew eventually we’d get there. Actually, it turned out to be several of my best. I watched the clip about a dozen times, imagining it was her over and over again.

Two days later, she walked into the bar again. I didn’t bother pretending to read a magazine, just eye fucking her as she approached. 

“Can I get a dozen bars?” Was the only greeting I got. She looked tense, which only made it easier to imagine what her face would look like when I slammed into that ass.

“Have a seat,” I said, enjoying the outfit today. She was wearing tights, gripping her legs and hips, and showing off just a hint of camel toe. Her shoulders were bare, showing pale skin, the type that bruises easily. She was practically spilling out of the halter top, and I eyed the cleavage I knew I’d be fucking soon enough. It was the same with these junky girls, didn't matter if she was in college or not. Soon, she’d be wearing too much make-up and blowing short-term deals for a hit of whatever to help her forget she threw daddy's money, college, and a world of options away. Fuck those cunts tasted good as they ruined their lives. 

“Do you have any?” she asked, her pouty lips barely moving. The words barely registered as I thought about them wrapped around and choking on my cock. I wanted to see her makeup run.

I lied, “All I’ve got is four.”

Disappointment and desperation wrestled with each other on the little rich girl's face. “I’ll take them.”

She gripped my hand, harder this time, but squeezing like she was letting me know she’d put out for more. I got another bill and waited for her to start negotiations for the next batch.

Sure enough, she didn’t disappoint, “Listen, do you have somewhere else we can arrange things?”

My curiosity was piqued. She wasn’t at rock bottom yet. Her clothes looked new, the haircut fresh, her lips painted perfectly. 

I nibbled, “What’s up?”

Her face flushed, she was embarrassed. I leaned in conspiratorially, eager to hear how desperate she was.

“I was here yesterday…” She started and looked down at her thighs. “And a couple of guys got… I don’t like coming to this neighborhood… Is there somewhere else we could do this?”

Fucking jackpot. She looked up at me, and I could see tears brimming. I owed whoever grabbed her ass yesterday a round of drinks. I nodded sagely like I understood, the whole time pretending I wouldn’t do so much more than that once we were alone. My cock twitched at the thought of her in my trailer… Alone… Helpless… Drugged.

I scribbled my phone number on a napkin, folded it, and put it in her hand. “Don’t save that on your phone. If you need something, don’t say it. Instead, ask to come over for a movie and chill.”

Her whole face softened, and she nodded. For just a moment, her smile stretched a fraction too wide, then snapped back to normal. A weird trick of the dim lighting. Then she stood suddenly and threw her arms around me, smothering my face in those fucking jugs. “How soon can you get more?”

She stood, crossing her arms, making her tits spill up, threatening to pour out of her gym top.

“Tomorrow,” I said, thinking about what I’d do once she was inside my trailer. I wanted to see blood. I wanted to fucking hurt her. Rich cunt like this wanders into my home, she better damn well expect to be used like the jack off rag she is. I noticed the slight curve of her belly under the spandex, and in that moment, I wanted to fill her with a baby. Just fuck one right into her.

As expected, she called the next day. Her soft, shaky voice asked, “Hey Daz, I’d love to stop by for movie and chill… How’s your wifi?”

She’d blown through four bars in one day. She was a fucking junky. No matter what I did to her, there’d be no police involved. I was glad I’d resisted the urge to choke my cock out last night. I was raging hard just thinking about ripping her holes to pieces.

“I got bars for days. When you coming over?”

“Half hour?”

“See ya.” I hung up. The anticipation of getting my cock slick made these shabby post joint accommodations totally worth it. Fuck working and putting up with some harpy, I was going to chew up a stuck-up co-ed, use her until she was worn out, and trade her to any number of pimp or other garbage for a small score. Life was fucking good. Payback for people like her putting guys like me in prison. Payback is a bitch, and I was going to fucking collect.

I pulled out the laptop and started watching some of the heavier shit, blowbangs, rough slapping sessions, sketchy shit where the girls looked so worn out and hopped up they just took it in every hole without much reaction. This shit was my foreplay.

When there was a knock at the front door, I was sporting what felt like six feet of aching wood. 

“Enter!” I yelled. 

The door opened, and she followed it in sheepishly. Today, she was wearing a button-up sweater and glasses. The look was so innocent it made my cock twitch. Her tits were completely covered, but still straining to break free, small nubs showing even through the sweater. I couldn't wait to bite one and hear her scream. Best of all, she was wearing the short black skirt again. I wouldn't even have to undress her to fuck the bitch senseless. It took everything to keep from jumping her right at that moment.

She looked around, unable to hide her disgust. I doubt she’d ever been in a trailer home before, and it probably didn't help the ambiance that I hadn’t cleaned at all. 

Shutting the door behind her, she asked, “How much can I get?”

“Depends what you’re willing to pay,” I said, grinning.

Her eyes flicked down, then back up. She bit that fat lower lip. “I… I don’t have enough cash for everything… But maybe we can work something out?”

She stepped closer, close enough that those fat tits were almost brushing my face. Then she turned slowly toward the kitchen like she was looking for somewhere to sit or lean. Her ass swayed in that tiny skirt as she walked over to the counter where the yellow toolbox sat.

She bent forward at the waist, pretending to examine the box, ass pushed out toward me. The skirt rode up high enough that I could see the bottom curve of her cheeks and a flash of pink panties.

“I’ll do whatever you want,” she whispered, looking back over her shoulder at me. “Just… please. I need them bad.”

My cock was already throbbing as I climbed up off the recliner. I moved in behind her, grinding against that perfect ass while reaching around to maul her tits. She moaned softly and pushed back against me, rolling her hips like a whore in heat.

“That’s a good little slut,” I growled in her ear, yanking her skirt up higher.

She let me dry-hump her for a few seconds, breathing faster, then suddenly pushed back, trying to put everything on hold.

“Wait… No, I can’t… My parents…”

“Afraid mommy and daddy will see what a whore their little girl is?”

She gasped, eyes wide. “No! I was just…”

I slammed her upper body down onto the counter before she could finish. Her cheek hit the formica with a smack. She squealed and tried to push up, but I drove in behind her, pinning her to the counter. She wailed, trying to twist away. We both knew I’d be buried in her in just a few moments.

I didn’t even hear what she was saying, more begging and crying. What I was listening to was my cock, it was throbbing with ache and ready to tear her apart. The way her hair felt in my fist was intoxicating. We both knew what was going to happen.

“You can scream all you want, ain’t no one going to hear you or care.”

Pinning her down, I reached under the skirt, grabbing a handful of cunt. As she struggled, I crushed it in my grip through her panties. The more she struggled, the deeper up I wedged my hand. The panties felt weird, too silky smooth, until I realized this fucked up little whore was already wet. I let go only long enough to get my cock out.

Flipping her skirt up, I yanked her panties aside, then ground myself against her as she begged. She was soaking wet. The bitch’s body betrayed her even as she begged me to stop. 

I pulled back hard on her hair and drove into her, using her like my own personal fleshlight. The tightness was insane, and it was a damned good thing she was wet, or we’d have both been crying out in pain. I pushed all the way in with one savage thrust, feeling her whole body shudder around me as she croaked out a stuttering groan. 

“I’ll call the police,” she cried.

It had been a long time since I had pussy this sweet, and I wanted it to last. I leaned down across her, wrapping an arm around her throat to squeeze the breath out of her.

“You think you’re gonna call the cops? Huh cunt? You want everyone to find out the sweet little college girl got fucked by a drug dealer? Do you? Quit your crying and fucking enjoy it.”

Lying across her back, it was easy to just jackhammer inside her, making her stroke me with those velvety walls. I found a good pace and started making her sing, the slap of my balls against her filling the small trailer. I groaned in her ear.

“That's it cunt… you’re doing so good… Just a little more and you can cum… None of this is your fault, there's no reason you can’t just relax and enjoy it, sweety.”

It didn’t take long before she pushed back, her crocodile sobs turning into moans. The bitch couldn’t help herself when filled by a real man. I hammered into her for a bit, just relishing the heat and wet friction. And the total control. Her cunt was just a jack off rag to cum in. She felt amazing, like a wet, gloved fist milking me, as if built just for me.

Pulling out with a pop, I announced that I was going to take her asshole. She begged, not in a good way, so I pressed in, lubed up with her own juices. It was a tight fit and a hard struggle, but finally, I was buried deep inside her. She grunted in pain at first, but the slut just couldn’t help herself. Soon enough, she was fucking back against me, even as I choked her, telling her what a filthy whore she was.

There was a feeling like a thousand pin pricks across my cock, and her ass sucked at me hard, like it was trying to tear my dick off. I gasped and yanked back, but in an instant the feeling was gone, replaced with the silky interior coaxing an orgasm out of me. I wondered if I was getting to that age when fucking started to feel different. Something was off, but she still felt fucking amazing.

“You’re all mine, baby girl… Say it.”

She shook her head, but said it anyway, “Please, don’t tell anyone… I’ll be yours.”

I was so close to coming that I could feel my balls pulsing, like someone was stroking and caressing them. The bitch was shoved down with both hands gripping the far side of the counter. That virgin asshole was so unbelievably tight, like it was made just to fit my cock. I continued stroking in her, trying to hold back, churning her insides just to make her feel it, and she groaned like she was loving every bit of it. She was my own personal anal whore.

“Please,” She begged, “I’m… I’m going to cum.”

Hearing this bitch was going to cum on my cock made me feel powerful, invincible, master of the fucking universe. I stuffed her with it, and she couldn't do shit except enjoy it, like all whores did. I rode this feeling as my rock-hard cock twitched inside her. But there was something else, something in the pit of my stomach, like I was getting kicked in the nuts while fucking her.

“Beg for it cunt,” I demanded.

She shook her head while her hands clenched at the counter edge. She didn’t stop shoving back against me. I stabbed into her a few times, extra hard, making sure she felt every inch. That ought to show her.

“I’m… I’m going to cum,” she whimpered, sounding horrified at her own words.

I laughed and looked down at my shaft buried inside her. I was no longer in her ass. Somehow, I was back in her cunt. She gripped me, making me groan, so I added, “You love it, don’t you, stuck up whore? Cum for me, you filthy slag.”

“Yes!” she cried out as I winced my eyes shut. My balls felt like they were going to rupture. The pleasure was so exquisite it was painful. Her hands gripped the counter edge, but the feeling that she was massaging my balls continued, like they were being gently tickled as I plowed into her.

“Fuck! I’m close,” I howled, looking down to watch my diamond-hard shaft plunge into her…

And that’s when I saw it.

There were small fronds, almost like fleshy, colored ferns wrapping up from under my balls. They massaged me as I stared, my body still hammering into her on pure instinct. I wanted to scream, to rip myself free, but my hips wouldn’t obey. Her cunt sucked me deeper, wet and greedy.

When the tendrils tightened and a thousand tiny pinpricks stabbed into my sack, I exploded inside her with a guttural scream. The orgasm was violent, almost painful.

Something was horribly wrong.

Her back arched at an unnatural angle with a wet, cracking sound. Her shoulder popped and shifted. Her arms bent backward with sickening wet pops and lengthened into thick, ropey tentacles that whipped around my biceps, pinning me in place. I tried to pull out, but her cunt clenched like a living vice and dragged me even deeper.

She twisted her torso completely around. Her spine rotated with a series of grinding cracks until those pretty college-girl features melted away. Wet black eyes with no whites stared into mine. A mouth full of needle fangs smiled.

I let out a high-pitched wail of pure terror.

She cooed in that same soft voice, “You can scream all you want, baby… Nobody is going to hear you or care.”

Then she struck, sinking dozens of needle fangs into my neck.

Fiery venom flooded my veins. My body went completely rigid as burning electricity shot through me. I could still feel everything.

She lifted me like a ragdoll and carried me to the recliner, tentacles retracting as she dropped me into it. My legs splayed open, cock still hard and glistening. I sat there frozen, drooling, heart pounding, while seconds stretched into agonizing minutes.

The creature stood over me, grey skin rippling. Its face flowed like thick liquid. Hair shortened. Shoulders broadened. Stubble appeared. My flannel shirt and torn jeans melted out of its skin.

It was me. Perfectly me.

The thing wearing my face leaned down close, staring straight into my wide, terrified eyes with my own sleazy grin.

“Your sperm worked perfectly, Daz. They’re already hatching inside me. Fat, hungry little things. Once they’re fully developed, I’m going to squat over you and push every last egg deep into your ass. They’ll burrow in, latch onto your guts, and start feeding. Slowly. For weeks. You’ll feel them crawling, chewing, growing fat on your insides while you stay trapped in this chair, unable to scream, unable to move, unable to do anything but suffer.”

It tapped my paralyzed cheek with my own finger, almost affectionately.

“While they’re eating you alive, I’ll be out there wearing your face. Selling your bars. Collecting your cash. Rough-fucking desperate college girls in your trailer. I’ll use this cock on whoever I want. I’ll laugh with your voice. Sleep in your bed. And every single night I’ll come home and tell you exactly how good it feels to live your worthless life while you rot from the inside.”

The creature straightened up, stretched casually, and cracked my neck like it was testing out a new toy. It looked around the filthy trailer with satisfaction, then walked over to the fridge.

“Plenty of time,” it said, looking back at my helpless body. “The eggs need a few more hours to finish fertilizing… then the real fun begins.”