Categories > Celebrities > Guns n' Roses > First Date

Twenty Dollars

by midnight_moonlight

Izzy's little money making scheme doesn't go entirely to plan.

Category: Guns n' Roses - Rating: NC-17 - Genres: Angst - Warnings: [V] [R] - Published: 2008-08-12 - Updated: 2008-08-12 - 928 words

?Blocked
Was this cheating? Was kneeling here, in a filthy alleyway, cheating on Slash?

I can feel the grit digging through the knees of my already dirty jeans. The guy's cock is forced down my throat and his hands tear at my hair, forcing me to look into his ugly face. He sneers, his bad breath reaching me even while I'm on my knees. I choke and cough, pulling back slightly, eyes watering. This horrible, hell. I can't believe I'm here, behind some shithole club on Sunset, sucking some drunk's cock.

The hand in my hair tightens as his other hand clips me across the face.

"Fuckin' get to it," he hisses.

Grimacing, I wrap my mouth back around his stinking cock and begin to suck again, harder and faster, hoping to get him off. He whines and moans, strong fingers pulling on my hair. He wants to abuse me and I deserve to be abused for doing this to Slash. I cough and struggle a little, trying to push myself away. But he just pushes my nose deeper into his lice ridden pubes. This is what he wants, someone to struggle with him.

I suck harder, tears forming in the corners of my eyes as strands of hair are torn from my scalp.

Come, you bastard! Just come already!

Instead, I find myself being dragged away from his cock. With a strangled cry, I'm dragged to my feet. The stinking guy, in his expensive suit and polished shoes, drags me, screaming and kicking to a dumpster.

"NO!" I plead, sensing what's coming. "PLEASE NO!"

He slams me into it, the rusting metal digging into my stomach. Panting for breath, I kick and lash out, trying to free myself. A heavy hand hits me across the back of the head, slamming my face into the closed lid. Stars dance before my eyes and I sway a little, only just aware that my jeans are being cruelly dragged from my ass. Lifting my weary head, I cough and spit blood onto the dirty pavement as those hands knead the flesh of my ass.

Blowjobs. That's all I was going to do. But look where that's fuckin' got me.

Trembling, I begin to pull away again, reaching for my jeans. Again, I'm brutally pushed against the dumpster, my legs kicked apart. I give a little cry, a tear that was dangling from my lashes dropping down my cheek. It's no good fighting. The guy's stronger than me. I may as well take this like the whore I've had to become.

Resting my head against the cool metal of the dumpster, I brace myself and obediently spread my legs. A whiskey soaked snigger fills my ears as fingernails dig into my hips. I squeeze my eyes shut, body tensing as I prepare myself.

A howl tears from my lungs as the evil bastard's cock tears into me, throwing my body against the putrid dumpster again and again. The metallic sound of it hitting the wall rings through my head and I'm surprised that no one's turned up to find out what's happening.

But this is Hell-LA. No one cares. Not even the police.

His nails cruelly tear at the naked skin of my hips as he rams himself in again and again, seeking the ultimate high from the cruellest of pleasure. My body trembles beneath him and I give in, finally letting the tears swell from my eyes and down my cheeks.

"No," I pathetically plead. "Please no. Please no. Please no..."

My voice trails off and dies in the dryness of my throat. Shaking, I lean against the dumpster and let my body be violated, wishing that it was Slash's arms that were around me instead of the arms of this man. The arms that have alcohol fused sweat seeping from the pores and onto me. The sweat that will stain my skin for many moons to come. I don't know whether I'll ever be able to get rid of the smell and the feeling of being raped and abused.

Pain filled fireworks explode behind my eyes as he hits the spot that's supposed to bring pleasure. My back arches and muscles tighten as I let out a groaning sob.

"NO!" I scream. "PLEASE NO!"

My cock twitches between my legs and I shiver, pleading and begging again. I don't want to come. Not like this. Not while I'm being used by some stranger. He laughed hoarsely behind me and speeds up, his awful cock knocking against that spot again and again. My cock hardens, painfully, and the tears come more frequently. A strangely soft hand wraps around my cock and roughly begins to stroke.

I shake and tremble more, my voice getting higher. I don't wanna come. I don't wanna come...

BANG! A scream rips from my mouth as I spill my seed against the metal container. My body shakes and, behind me, I hear the fucker's voice join mine as he pumps his ugly, disease ridden come fills me. God only knows what I'm going to catch from this guy. Slash has heroin. I now probably have AIDS.

He thrusts in a few more times before he drops me. My knees buckle and I hit the concrete, my head falling forward as come and blood drip from my ass and cock. Something, like snow, flutters past my eyes, falling to the ground before me.

"Keep the change," he man snarls.

Weakly, I collect the crumbled bills and look at them. Twenty dollars. That's it.

I hope Slash appreciates it.
Sign up to rate and review this story