Anonymous Wed 28 Aug 2024 20:49:29 No.68672602 Report

Quoted By: >>68672649 >>68672692 >>68672865 >>68673121

>>68672537
E2 anon runs into hooker stella and buys her services only to not go through it in the end and just gives her the money because he ends up feeling dirty and disgusted with himself and Stella still trying to spend time with him because someone familiar that she liked shows up and is desperately trying for affection

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Anonymous Wed 28 Aug 2024 23:07:31 No.68676348 Report

Quoted By: >>68676364 >>68676405

Snoresmith
lettuce begin
>>68672602

>Night drives are one of the few things I peel myself out of my apartment for, these days.
>I would say it’s to look at the stars, but the light pollution of the city takes that away.
>Maybe there’s something about the coolness of the ocean winds once the sun sets.
>Maybe I just like to LARP as Ryan Gosling behind the wheel of my shitter of a Malibu.
>Or maybe, it just gives me a chance to disassociate I guess.
>In a different way.
>Another method to let myself run on autopilot for a few hours until I get bored or hungry enough to slink back home.
>Skin Row and the surrounding suburbs are a frequent occurrence.
>I avoid the nicer parts of the city, if possible.
>Don’t wanna see any familiar faces.
>It’s not like I’m running from a reunion.
>But I’m not exactly chasing after one either.
>Especially after the ghost I saw in that pizza shop.
>Part of me should feel justified by seeing her up there.
>But she proved me wrong in the end, didn’t she?
>Whatever the fuck Fang became, she looked like a faggot, at least.
>No, I just feel...Something.

>It’s not regret, Anon.
>Fang was a mistake.
>Volcaldera was a mistake.
>And yet you’re still here.

>A stop sign rips me out of my monologue. I hit the brakes with a squeal. Those pads need replaced. I’ve got the money, I just don’t feel like dealing with it.
>A quick glance around confirms my suspicions.
>I’m in a dead-end part of the city’s outer limits. Gives Skin Row a run for its money, just has enough Saurians in it to avoid true attention.
>More than one of the street lamps around here are flickering like crazy, and the potholes could rip my junker straight out of alignment if I don’t pay attention.
>The little islands of light cast by the lamps amidst shows dilapidated brick walls, windows with bars over them and at least one house with a foreclosure notice on it.
>It also reveals something dead ahead.
>Or rather, someone.

cont

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Anonymous Wed 28 Aug 2024 23:08:03 No.68676364 Report

Quoted By: >>68676396

>>68676348
>Up ahead, on a street corner, standing just within the edge of the lamp’s halo, is a woman.
>Clearly a Saurian, no hiding that tail. I can catch what look like plates running down her spine, even from here. Must be a Herbie.
>Finer details are lost on me, but I can see her silhouette, highlighted with picturesque contrast by the bulb suspended above her.
>She looks good.
>Really good.
> . . .

>I can see her tilting her head in the direction of my car.
>She’s noticed that I’m idling at this stop.
>I glance in my rear view, just to reassure myself I’m not holding anyone up like a jackass.
>Something ugly is coiling up in my guts as I realize what I’m contemplating.
>It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten any action.
>A really long time since I’ve felt a woman at all.
>And I didn’t care for the longest time.
>But ever since I saw F–
>That fucking -thing- on the stage.
>That something I’ve felt since then?
>It’s gnawing. A craving for something I didn’t know I wanted anymore.

>I’ve got cash to spare, literally burning a hole in my pocket.
>My heartbeat’s heightening as I look around the corners, trying to spot any signs this is a honeypot for lonely morons.
>Nothing.
>There’s always a risk of catching some kind of cross-species STD, but…
>Fuck it.
>Not like I’m trying to impress anyone.
>I’m not above doing this.
>I could’ve been, maybe if I said or did something different before.
>Not anymore.
>I let my foot off the brake pedal, and my car creeps forward towards the corner.

Cont

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Anonymous Wed 28 Aug 2024 23:08:59 No.68676396 Report

Quoted By: >>68676417

>>68676364

>I bring the car to idle at the edge of the corner. She’s already moving my way, walking through the lamplight as she approaches my driver-side window.
>Up close now, a fuller picture of her body is coming on display.
>She’s gotten too close to see her face by this point, but I catch hints of blue hair about her shoulders.
>She’s wearing thin, tight shorts with a crimson sweater-top. It’s a size or two too small for her, tight around her torso and arms, midriff left exposed and buttons straining to contain her breasts. Hints of black lace peek through the gaps.
>Light green scales are covering her body. Definitely a stegosaurid of some variety, I could recognize a thagomizer from anywhere.
>She looks thin. Malnourished, yet there’s a plumpness about her thighs and chest that, by contrast, screams unnatural. She’s had work done.
>More likely, her handler had work done to her.
>I roll down my window just as she reaches my door. I can hear the last click of what sounds like high heels against the pavement of the walkway.
>Her elbows are resting on the top of the doorframe as she leans down, chest first, giving me a full view of that cleavage.
>I feel disgusted by her, yet more disgusted by myself still at the pressure such an easy trick has built in my pants.
>”Hey, baby.”
>There’s a huskiness to it, a worn, forced femineity, but something about this whore’s voice.
>It almost sounds familiar.
>The realization comes to me just as her head dips into the threshold of my window.
>”You look–....Lloo…”

>Her voice trails off as her eyes meet mine.
>And I can only imagine my face must be as shocked as hers.
>She’s dyed her hair an unnatural, bright blue. Perfectly blunt bangs sweep away into a messy, straight mane down her shoulders.

Cont

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Anonymous Wed 28 Aug 2024 23:09:36 No.68676417 Report

Quoted By: >>68676441

>>68676396

>Blue is the general color of her face, truly. Bright and unsettling, like a slug warning me that it’s toxic.
>Blue lipstick painted in the facsimile of lips about the tip of her beak, just like Fang had tried.
>Blue highlights around her eyes, melding with black eyeliner that's a bit too thick.
>Even a blue choker around her gangly throat.
>No, the only natural shade is her eyes.
>The scales and the color of those plates I can glimpse on her tail, combined with her voice, they were enough to give it away.
>But it’s the eyes that confirm it.
>Back in High School, they were fountains of sapphire joy, boundless and warm and bright.
>But now they’re full of an ugly mixture of things.
>Shock. Despair. Fear.
>Her beak opens, closes, then opens again.
>She’s trying to say something.

>”...Anon?”

>I feel like I got hit, hearing the way she whispered my name.
>The forced sultriness is gone now.
>She just sounds small. Threadbare and worn. An echo of the excitable weeb I knew at Volcano High.
>I look away from her; my hands squeeze the steering wheel with such tightness that I can hear the synthetic material groaning faintly.

>This isn’t the Stella you used to know, Anon.
>You weren’t even friends with her to begin with. You treated her like shit.
>She wants money. You want to feel good.
>Get it over with.

>”You gonna get in?”
>It took me a moment to find my voice. I glance back up at her a second after.
>There’s the saying that you can watch the light drain from someone’s eyes.
>It’s exactly what plays out before me.
>All the emotion that was bursting out of those pools of blue light is snuffed out by my question.
>I swear that they become duller, dimmer.
>Her face relaxes, tension draining as she puts on a mask she’s likely worn for a thousand different customers.
>”Yeah,” she simply replies. The voice is back. Stella’s gone. The thing in her flesh remains.

Cont

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Anonymous Wed 28 Aug 2024 23:10:23 No.68676441 Report

Quoted By: >>68676482

>>68676417

>The whore leans back from my car, looking over her shoulder and off towards a building on the other side of the street. I follow the direction of her snout.
>I catch a hint of a couple of figures, one of them carrying the pin-glow of a cigarette in its snout.
>Someone nods to her, and she nods back.
>I can’t recognize any of her owners from here. I don’t care to. I don’t want to get involved in whatever mess she’s landed herself in.
>The Stego walks around my car. I pop the lock as she reaches the passenger door, and slides herself into shotgun. She doesn’t bother buckling herself up.
>The faint whiff I caught when she was leaning through the my window is strong now. A mixture of some sort of cheap bodyspray, mixed in with traces of other colognes, and an unmistakable natural musk.
>She’s already been with someone else tonight.
>I feel a little sick at how little that’s phasing me.

>I move the car back onto the road. “There’s a good spot to the right, three turns down,” she murmurs. I quietly nod.
>I keep my eyes on the road, and so does she, but I can catch her stealing glimpses at me in the corner of my right eye.
>Probably asking herself what became of me.
>Probably preparing herself for what we’re about to do.
>Is it easier for her to fuck a former companion, or worse?
>Raptor Christ.

>I follow her instructions and end up turning into a lightless lot. There might’ve been a corner store here at some point, but now it’s just secluded concrete, smothered in darkness. I creep the Malibu to the far end of the lot and kill the engine.
>The silence in the dark that follows is deafening.
>I can hear her breathing. It must be the former, because her tempo is upset. She’s clutching her knees.
>We stay motionless for a good minute. Maybe she’s expecting me to make the first move.
>When I finally look at her, I find that the mask has come back on again. There’s a smile on her face, and nothing but death in her eyes.

cont

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Anonymous Wed 28 Aug 2024 23:11:48 No.68676482 Report

Quoted By: >>68676541

>>68676441

>”You’ve gotten so big,” she croons beneath her breath as she shifts forward in her seat, arms moving past the center console.
>She presses her chest against my shoulder, and the softness of her breasts, the warmth of her body growing closer to mine–it’s making it harder to stay composed.
>Despite myself, I raise a hand towards her. Too hesitantly. One of her claws lowers and grabs my hand, bringing my palm to press and run against the scales of her thigh. A throaty hum of approval leaves her as I squeeze into the softness.
>I can tell it’s forced.
>She’s good enough at her job to give me doubts, though, for that beak comes to run along my neck. Her breath’s ghosting along my throat. Her right hand keeps mine pinned to her waist, while her left is running along my pant leg, growing closer to my crotch.
>”You’re nervous,” she whispers in my ear. “That’s okay. I’ll take care of you.”
>Her fingers cup my bulge, and begin to slowly palm me through the denim of my jeans. Despite the barrier of separation between her and my cock, the stimulation is enough to make my breath hitch.
>It’s growing dangerously tight at my waistband. Something only worsening as her head shifts. She’s leaning forward, closer to me, to my face.
>That beak is curving towards my lips.
>And I can feel my mouth opening to accept it. To accept all of this.
>But just before she tries to kiss me, the whore makes the mistake of murmuring to me one last time.
>”Let me make you feel good, Anon.”

>The name, my name, it instantly makes me grimace.
>Something gross coils inside of me and saps the false intimacy of the moment away in an instant.
>Because hidden underneath all of the forced, trained sexuality of the moment, of the practiced huskiness of her voice.
>All I can hear in that moment is the geek from High School, asking me if I’d want to have my fortune told.
>And in that moment, I feel regret.

>”...Stop.”

cont

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Anonymous Wed 28 Aug 2024 23:13:58 No.68676541 Report

Quoted By: >>68676550

>>68676482

>She doesn’t seem to hear me whisper. That, or she’s just powering through despite it.
>My left arm raises, bracing against her shoulder.
>”Stop,” I tell her, more firmly now.
>”An–”
>”Stop!”
>She recoils away, retreating back her corner of the car. Her hands leave my body.
>She looks panicked, eyes wide and full of fear. Is she afraid of me, or afraid of what’ll happen if she doesn’t secure her payment?
>I close my eyes, breath shivering for a moment as I do my best to wrangle myself in. The sheer whiplash from arousal to revulsion is hard to swallow. I need something to do with my hands, and I just end up clenching the steering wheel again I try to ground myself.
>”I can’t do this,” I tell her. “Stella, I–...I’m sorry. I can’t.”
>”Did I do something wrong?”
>Her real voice is back. Soft, fearful, timid. She sounds like a wind could blow her over.
>”Do you not find me attractive? I–I can…”
>I raise a hand towards her, shaking my head. “It’s not you. I just…”
>My voice trails off again as I meet her eyes. All I can hear in the silence that follows is the both of us breathing.
>She looks terrified.
>I can’t just send her away.

>”--Here.”
>She blinks as I reach into my back pocket and pull out my wallet. Opening it, I begin to count out the bills, before I just settle on offering her the entire wad.
>She doesn’t take it at first. She stares at the bundle of cash, probably far more than she expected to get from this encounter, like it might reach out and bite her.
>”Why?”
>A great question.
>”You need it more than me,” I end up telling her.
>Not just that. Be honest.
>”...It would mean a lot to me,” I add, softer. She hesitates, before she reaches for the bundle and accepts it, cramming it down into a pocket on her barely-passable excuse for shorts.
>I sigh with a nod, reaching for the keys.
>”I’ll take you back–”

Cont, end next

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Anonymous Wed 28 Aug 2024 23:14:32 No.68676550 Report

Quoted By: >>68676610 >>68676925 >>68676990

>>68676541
>She cuts me off.
>She lunges at me, wrapping her arms tight around my torso and squeezing the daylights out of me.
>I can feel her head hidden against my torso. I can hear her breath hitching.
>”Not yet,” she whispers. “Please.”

>Maybe it’s just because I haven’t gotten a hug from a woman in years.
>Maybe I just feel bad for her.
>But slowly, my arms raise to return the embrace. It’s enough to make her sniffle.
>”Well...I’ve got you for, however long that’s worth, right?”
>She leans away, just enough to look me in the eyes. She gives me a confused nod.
>”Well, would you just wanna talk for a bit? You’re the first person I’ve seen from our High School days.”
>A little lie, but it can’t hurt her. I suppose a second lie couldn’t hurt any more.
>”...It’d be nice to speak to a friend again.”
>As if I deserve to call her as much.

>The whore searches my face, my gaze for a long time, a guarded expression on her own.
>Like she’s trying to gauge if this is some trick. Some cruel joke on her expense.
>Whatever she must see in me, in what I’ve told her?
>It’s enough to make a small smile cross her tired expression.
>I can’t help but feel a little warmer as I watch the light return to those blue eyes.

>”Yeah,” Stella told me. “That’d make me really happy, Anon.”

End

Aight, my pasta’s done cooking, I’m gonna go eat dinner n get out of writeanon’s way.
Might dip in later and do one of the other prompts from before