Old Slag Degraded by Young Studs Pt. 01

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Chapter 1 — The Super Slag

I fully knew what I was letting myself in for as I locked the front door of my little house and climbed into my car to head the one hundred and eighty-five-mile trip to Glasgow.

The event to which I was travelling had been two months in the making. After the exhausting and infuriating two years on and off Covid restrictions, I had finally gotten back into action, having fun, if you can call it that, with a group of feisty but good-looking guys half my age. From that encounter organised by my good friend Tynan, I had been asked to return to Glasgow for another naughty session with the same group and a few additions.

In preparing for my second trip of the year south, I had allowed several more of these young men to have my mobile phone number so they could chat with their would-be slut before my arrival. They had not wasted the opportunity to call me up and tell of their plans. A typical call went something like this:

“Hey Rachel, you slutty girl, this is Marcus.”

“Hello, Marcus.”

“I’m looking forward to meeting you and a lot more.”

“Are you? In what way?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Yes, I would.”

“Me and my mates, and there is a lot of them, are going to fuck you silly. Would you like that?”

“Ohhhh. Yes. Not half!” I would respond with a giggle. “I love good hard cock.”

“I have read some of your stories; they are so hot.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Oh yes. But we want to know how true they are, and we are going to find out.”

“How will you do that?”

“We intend to make you filthier than you have ever been before.”

“Oh, thank you, Sir,” I would gush in response.

“And we will make you the greatest whore in Scotland and maybe Great Britain!”

“How do you intend to accomplish that, Marcus.”

“You will have to wait and see.”

“Something to look forward to then?” I’d answered.

“Not as much as what we look forward to on the last day.”

“What’s that?”

“Do you know what a sadist is?”

“Yes, I think so,” I replied.

“You only think so? Then let me tell you what the definition of a sadist is; ‘One who derives pleasure, especially sexual gratification, from inflicting pain or humiliation on others.’ We are all sadists.”

“Really? Thanks for telling me,” I chuckled.

“We have read some of the things others have done to you in the past. We think we can do better. Much better. We want to fuck you like a whore, pluck you like a turkey and buck you like a bronco! Do you get my meaning?”

“I think so. You want to degrade me and use me as your whore?”

“Oh no. That’s much too mild. We want to torture you, Rachel. We want to make you feel real pain. We want to hear your sexy voice scream and beg us for mercy. We want to do more to you than you have ever had done in your life. Would you like that?”

“Ohhhh. Yes! I can’t wait.” I teased, “Being a bit of a pain slut I’d love you to whip and cane me.”

“Good girl. But we will do more than use whips and canes on you; just wait and see. Well, it’s been nice chatting with you. See you soon slut.”

This was just one of several similar calls I had received in the days leading up to my southern trip. I knew there was a lot of bravado in the guy’s talk. Still, I also knew they fully intended to discover if there had been bravado in my written accounts they had scrutinised as if preparing for some vital examination. They had read my words but wanted to test the whore when the opportunity arrived.

There were also video clips! These arrived daily from each young man who had been given my number, along with a myriad of questions.

“Can you do this, Racel?”

“Will you allow us to do this to you?”

“I’ve always wanted to do this. Will you let me!”

Not being a woman who finds watching porn a turn-on, I was unaware that so many varied bondage scenes existed. The majority of those sent to me of bindings, whippings, floggings, peggings and other forms of BDSM were harmless enough, and I felt, if time permitted, that I’d enjoy being on the receiving end of such attentions.

Two of those arranged to join the coming gangbang concerned me in the material they sent. I enjoy and enter into pain, suffering and humiliation but draw the line at anything that will cause permanent injury. If I’m honest, I was amazed that such gross and violent material is allowed to be made anywhere, never mind placed in the public domain. Even after nearly twenty years of intense sexual activity, I can still be shocked with how extreme some men would like to conduct themselves with me.

One of these young men sent me two of what I can only describe as gross clips of women being tortured, which, in my opinion, no one in their right mind would enjoy watching. At first, I believed these were sent as some perverted joke.

When I received others after replying with an ‘Absolutely Not’ text, I was greatly alarmed and informed Tynan, who had got the lads together.

“He’s harmless, but I’ll tell him you’re not impressed,” Kurtköy travestileri Tynan responded to my concerns.

“I’ve also had some from another person,” I added, naming him.

“He’s just the same. High jinks, I think, Rachel. I’m sure they would not want to do what they have shown, but I’ll speak to them both.”

“I don’t want any more of those videos sent,” I told Tynan, “or those guys will exclude themselves from the weekend.”

I was much happier with Tynan promising to speak to the two guys involved; however, a week later, when both again sent material asking if they could copy what was in the film when they were with me, I decided to act.

“Those two are banned!” I told Tynan in no uncertain terms. “Did you speak to them about the stuff they were sending me?”

“Yes, I did.”

“And they carried on after that?”

“If you say they did,” Tynan replied.

“I do, and I don’t want them involved in any way over the weekend. You can tell them why.”

“Okay, but they will be disappointed.”

“I don’t doubt. I am happy for the guys to have fun, but that does not include cutting and tearing me. That’s a definite no-go!”

“I’ll tell them, Rachel. You’re right; they should not have sent you anything else after I spoke to them.”

“You know, Tynan, I can only think of one occasion… no two… when someone refused to stop when I used my safe word. These two wanted me to go further than I knew I could. Thankfully, others stepped in and stopped them before things got nasty. Most men respect me and what I try to give them. I’m having the most enjoyable banter with all the other guys who are sending me video clips, links and requests. These two creep me out. It’s their own fault, but it may teach them an important lesson for the future!”

“I fully understand,” Tynan replied sympathetically. “They will not be there.”

The two lads were devastated and sent me text after text of apology and remorse. I was determined to stick with my decision and told them to think seriously about the consequences of their actions before performing them. I hope they learned from their mistake by missing out through their stupidity.

For obvious reasons, I have a phone that I use for planning these types of events, and I suddenly discovered it was playing up and not working properly. It was not cheap and was only a couple of years old, so I took it to a local phone repair shop. The young guy who received it asked me to pop back in a couple of hours after he had a chance to assess the problem.

When I returned, he and a colleague seemed to be waiting for me expectantly.

“Have you found the problem?” I asked.

“Err, yes.” The new man replied.

“Your memory is bunged,” the other added, looking at me suspiciously, “You have far too many videos for the memory to cope!”

I know this sounds stupid, and it was, but with everything going on, planning the gangbang and pressure at work, it had never crossed my mind to either delete the video clips that had been sent of the many revealing messages I had received and responded to.

“Some of the material looks a bit… what shall I say… interesting!” the older guy added.

“It’s not usually phones and computers belonging to women that contain such material,” his younger colleague added.

I turned pink and then beetroot red. I could feel my face glowing in embarrassment.

“Oh,” was all I managed to stammer.

“If you delete all these very sexy videos of bound beauties,” the older guy continued, “you will discover that your phone works as right as rain.”

“Thank you,” I replied rather weakly.

“Can we ask you a question?”

“Yes.”

“A very personal one?”

“Yes,” I responded with a slight feeling of dread.

“Well… um..” Even the young guy seemed at a loss as to what to say. “The videos have all been sent to you via chat apps. Are you really into this sort of thing? I mean, it looks like you’re going to attend an orgy!”

I’m not sure I could blush any deeper, but if I could, I did!

“It’s a bit difficult to explain,” I confessed.

“Try us,” the older one requested, “There is no one else in the shop, and we are both over eighteen.”

“And you’re good-looking,” his friend interjected.

I was trapped like a rabbit in the headlights, and I knew it. I’m not blond, but I had been stupidly dumb not to think about what was on the phone when I took it in for repair.

I took a deep breath and began…

Two hours later, after several pauses to allow the two guys to deal with other customers, I returned with my phone. I also knew that the men were suffering from a severe case of erections that would only be fully remedied when they attended, as I had promised, one of my local events!

Plans for my current escapade, though, had been changed at the last minute, and I was told to leave my car in Fort William and catch a bus the rest of the way. It was a strange request that I was not best pleased with receiving. I’m a woman who enjoys my Kurtköy travestileri own company, especially when driving to a gangbang event. How could I board a bus in Fort William and explain where I was travelling and what for if somebody asked?

“Oh, me? I’m just popping down to Glasgow for the weekend to have sex with twenty eighteen-year-old lads.”

Somehow, I didn’t think that explanation would cut any ice with passengers as we travelled along the winding A82. The fact that I was also wearing, as requested, a long flouncy dress with short sleeves underneath a lightweight coat would not suggest that I was heading south to become a total whore or a pain slut.

I did as I was told: I parked my car at a friend’s house and walked the mile to the bus station. Buses in the Highlands are not as regular as those in the city, and I had no idea when the next one would be leaving. A call from across the road caught my attention as I looked at the timetable with my small suitcase beside me.

“Oh! Sexy Lassie. Over here!”

I looked in the direction of the shout, which had a definite Irish lilt.

“Tynan,” I called back to the driver of a minibus, “whatever are you doing here?”

It was a stupid question as Tynan had been the organiser of the previous caper I had engaged in after the Covid restrictions had been lifted. (Please read ‘The Great Covid Breakout’ for that account). It had also been on his initiation that I was now heading south to meet some of the young men again.

“I’m your bus driver,” he called back as I walked towards him, pulling my case behind me. “I’ve come to drive you the rest of the way. We have just room for one more.”

Only then did I notice others sitting on the bus behind Tynan.

“Some of them joined me for the ride,” he explained before adding, “and what a ride they will have!” He continued, “Due to their ages, they couldn’t get insurance to drive a minibus. So I’m your driver, and the guys behind are… here too.”

As I neared the bus, a couple of passengers jumped out to help me with my case.

“That won’t be necessary,” Tynan ordered curtly, “Rachel can haul her own case onboard.”

“Thanks a lot!” I replied as I lowered its pull handle and lifted it into the bus ahead of me.”

“Guys, meet Rachel, ” Tynan announced as I climbed through the sliding door.

“Are you really thirty-six?” one of them asked.

“Yes, I am,” I replied with a smile.

“Wow, you look ten years younger.”

“Thanks; if you believe that all weekend, you might not think you are using an old hag.”

“Are we really going to fuck you silly?” another asked as I pushed my case between the seats and shoved it next to the rear bench.

“So I’m told,”

“WOW!”

I sat down as instructed between two young men and fastened my seatbelt.

“All aboard?” Tynan called, “Then let’s get this show on the road.”

The bus started as another of the young men spoke to me.

“How do you feel knowing that we are all half your age and desperate to do things with you?”

“It depends on what things you want to do?” I responded.

“Strip you, fuck you, tie you, whip you, and use you as a sex slave.”

“I’m quite flattered that men of eighteen want to use a woman of thirty-six,”

“Can we touch you?”

“Remember,” Tynan called out from the front, “that Rachel is now yours. You don’t have to ask her permission. She has already given it. Just get on and do whatever you want to do to her.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” Tynan confirmed, “Grab her tits, what there is of them, and stick your fingers up her cunt and arse hole if you want. She’s all yours for the next seventy-two hours, you lucky guys.”

Hands reached from seats behind and on either side, sliding down my top, inside my bra and after lifting the hem of my dress along my legs and under my knicker elastic.

The boy next to me grabbed my head and, turning it toward him, started to kiss me passionately on my mouth, ensuring he pushed his tongue in as deeply as he could. Meanwhile, the guy on the other side of me was guiding my hand into the zip of his trousers, where I could feel his erect penis.

“I have to tell you, Rachel,” Tynan called, “that these six guys and the others waiting for us in Glasgow have been spilling buckets of cum waiting for today. They have read all your stories and looked at all your pictures on Literotica. I think some have even been sharing them with their comments.”

“Are they all true?” one of the young men with a hand down my blouse asked.

“Yes, they are,” I replied when I could finally take a breath.

“You mean you did all those things at uni?”

“Yes.”

“You worked in a strip club?”

“Yes, I did.”

“And you sold yourself for sex?”

“Yes.”

“So that makes you a prostitute.”

“It did,” I replied, “I don’t do it anymore.”

“So now you know, lads, how lucky you are. Rachel is rather unique, I can tell you.”

“I can’t believe she’s real,” another stated.

“I am,” Travesti kurtköy I responded, smiling, “as you can feel.”

A little over half an hour into the journey, Tynan branched off the A82 onto a small single-track road, of which there is a number around Scotland. I knew why. I had been along this quiet road before for the same reason.

Tynan pulled the bus into a lay-by beside a forest and announced, “Okay, lads, take her into the woods. Do what you want to do with her as quickly as possible, and then we will head off to Glasgow to meet the others.”

I was more or less dragged out of the bus and pulled about twenty meters into the woods by the six eighteen-year-olds.

“Bend over,” I was told.

As I did so, resting my hands on my knees, I felt my dress lifted, my knickers quickly pulled down, and copious amounts of lubricating jelly squirted into my pussy. Then I felt solid manhood push into my pussy so hard that I almost fell over and had to take a step forward to rebalance.

“Lean against that tree,” the lad behind me instructed as he pulled out to allow me to shuffle, with my knickers around my ankles, about two meters where I placed my hands on a tree trunk.

Again I felt his cock push deep into my moist pussy and begin to thrust his willing old slut. As I looked, I could see that the other five guys were desperate to get into me before we continued our journey.

I remained supporting myself against the tree until all the young men had taken their turn at relieving their hardened cocks inside me.

When all had done what they wanted, Tynan handed me a beautiful Victorian-style, high-necked, short-sleeved, long-hemmed dress.

“Here,” he said, “put this on for later. It might give you the look of a woman with dignity.”

I removed my plain outfit and slipped into the new dress, which fitted perfectly.

“You look lovely,” one of the young men said genuinely.

“Yes, you look nice enough to fuck,” another added.

When I returned to the bus, one of the lads lifted my skirt, pulled my knickers down and inserted a remote dildo up my pussy. It was controlled from a phone, and the lads had great fun passing it around, turning it on randomly and increasing its power. My hands were also bound to the headrest behind me, allowing free access to my tits by undoing the top buttons on my dress.

For the rest of the journey, I answered question after question from the young men as they felt, fondled and vibrated my body while sitting around me, belted into their seats. As we approached Stirling, I knew that if the dildo were activated again, I would be unable to control an orgasm I had been trying to suppress.

When describing the bondage basement I had visited in Manchester many years previously, the dildo started up again. I knew it would push me over the edge. It did!

The young men were astonished as I trembled uncontrollably in my seat as a type of pins and needles flowed into my legs from somewhere deep within. I purred like a cat and pulled against the ropes, holding my arms on either side of my head.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhh. Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh!” I cried, still wriggling my bum on the seat in response.

“You okay, Rachel,” one of the young men, who was clearly less experienced, enquired. I was indeed.

“Wow!” Another added, “You are as hot as what you write.”

Perhaps due to Tynan’s good driving or the fact that I was so occupied, the time flew, and suddenly, we were driving into the outskirts of Glasgow.

As we neared the venue for the ‘event,’ Tynan spoke up.

“Are you ready, Rachel?”

“Yup. I guess so,” I replied, trying to hide the anxiety I always felt building at such times.

“As soon as you get in, Rachel, the lads will grab you, tear your clothes off and…” His voice faltered.

“Rape me,” I said, finishing his sentence.

“Yes, indeed, that is basically what they want to do repeatedly in all your holes until all have had their wicked way with you.”

“Do you want to be raped?” one of the six with me on the bus asked.

“No, no, I don’t. Not in real life. I think it must be one of the worst things that can happen to a woman,” I replied. “I have agreed to what will happen this weekend and set my boundaries. I’m happy for you to all do these things to me. I get a thrill… many if I’m honest… by allowing you to have fun with my body. I love seeing you all get erection after erection, knowing that seeing me naked, being used, and maybe abused is causing your testosterone to flow. I also know I’m in a safe environment and that you will all stop immediately if I use my safe word. However, for a stranger or strangers to take me or any woman must be an awful and terrifying experience. I know how anxious I am right now, and I have done this sort of thing many times.”

“I’m going to let some of the… shall we say… less experienced guys have some fun with you first,” Tynan added ominously following my long-winded exegesis.

The bus stopped, and I had only had time to undo my seatbelt before I was dragged off and into the industrial unit I had used on a previous occasion.

“Here’s the whore,” one of the young men who had travelled the bus with me said as he took my hair and pulled me forward.

“Right,” Tynan said in an authoritative voice, “Which of you has never seen a naked woman before?”

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Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32