Fucking Sluts (of the apocalyse)

Hi guys, 

I've been working on a new story. Bit of a surprise but I thought you would enjoy it. Another post-apocalyptic effort with bimbo whores. Hope you like the setup. 

Foxy and Fuckey part 2 is going well and will be out soon!

***

Rockwell was a town on a rock.

Well… let me tell you about it. And me.

We are out in the frontier, nothing but dusty desert for thirty miles around. And talk about God-for-saken. I guess that was the vibe that the sky hermit was giving out when he decided to completely annihilate the planet. But hey, it’s cool with me. I survived.

I survived the way every girl survived. Whoring myself out. And we all got real good at it. We had to, because the only way to keep surviving was to band together. To form communities again. Towns like Rockwell. Just keep on fucking and fucking and fucking while the supplies roll in from the convoys. Brave lads on those convoys that risk death crossing the states – now truly federal – to keep trade going across the country, get the things that are needed to the people that need them. I’ll certainly let them fuck my ass. Ain’t much else to do. It’s 2099. I’m 21. I’m a whore. Did I mention civilisation had collapsed?

***

Even at high noon, the bright neon sigh flashed across my face as my alarm buzzed. I rolled in bed to slap it off, groaning as I sat up and stretched. Most NASTIE sluts lived in one of the apartment buildings that surrounded Rockwell's favourite whore house. Not only did it give Ol'Bill a way to check in on his girls, but it also gave his girls somewhere private for any John that didn't feel like fucking openly in the establishment.

I stood out of bed and examined myself in the mirror, biting my plump lip as I did so. My red hair was a bit messy in the morning, but it still framed my teardrop shaped face, ripe lips, button nose, and emerald eyes perfectly. Red hair was something of a rarity in Rockwell, making me one of NASTIE'S most sought after day time gals.

My body followed the standard set by my face. I had been blessed with natural D cups, which had augmented to DDs, then triple DDD’s, then something else, then something off the scale. Then I lost track. I was still one of the smaller NASTIE SLUTS, but I didn't have the money for much larger. Now, they sat hard and firm, like fucking basketballs or something.

My narrow waist gave way to wide hips, and my flat stomach curved down between my toned thighs. Like most women, I underwent augmentation to remove pubic hair. Some girls still preferred a small triangle or landing strip, but I was smooth from my neck down. I turned around to examine my best feature.

By far, my ass is what brings Johns to me. Even before I started augmenting it, I always had a delightful bubble butt. After many surgeries, it now stuck out almost a full foot from the small of my back, each cheek firm and hard.

I walked over to my make up table and sat down. First thing in order was my hair, after brushing and straightening it, it soon glimmered with a crimson sheen. I put on cherry redlipstick and glossed them over to match. I then moved on, layering on make-up, mascara, eye liner, emerald eye-shadow to accentuate my emerald eyes. The works.

I then walked over to my wardrobe and chose an emerald sequin tube dress. It was perfect for working in, sexy, body hugging, draws the eye, and far too short. In the front, it barely covered my pussy, meaning half of my dump truck ass hung out the back. I examined myself one last time in the mirror before heading to work.

It took me forty-five minutes to get ready for my shift that started at 1. I stared up at the neon sign above me jealously. I wanted nothing more than to get on the night shift. That's where the real money was made. But there was a leader board system, and while I was climbing the ranks quickly, I wasn't one of the NASTIEST SLUTS, as those girls lucky enough to work nights were called.

I stepped forward and entered the building, smiling and giggling at anyone who passed me. Like always, my first task would be to tell Bill I was starting my shift, and to find out what my duty was for the day. Ideally, It would be something like 'at call waitress' or 'orgy slut', something where I could meet a lot of clients and hopefully move up a few more positions on the infamous NASTY SLUT RANKINGS.

***

NASTIE FUCKING SLUTS The neon sign that was emblazoned across of the establishment had undergone some changes over its lifetime. Now the only whorehouse in Rockwell, it had outlasted BAY-BEES, a strictly low-class dive, as well as SUCK SHACK, also very much a spit-and-sawdust operation. THUNDERCUNTS had been as much a flash in the pan as the name suggested. NASTIE FUCKING SLUTS had been the first whorehouse, and had seen all the others off – partly it was suggested, due to the name change. First it had been NASTIE’S, a sobriquet emblematic of the owner, peacocked, snaggle-toothed Bill Nastie.

The spirit of enterprise had moved Nastie after absorbing two of the more popular whores from BAY-BEES, and the ‘S now still hung over the establishment but went unlit, while the additional FUCKING SLUTS finished the classy title of the brothel. It was clearer. It was not only empirically clearer, but the larger size of the neon lettering of FUCKING SLUTS could be seen, on an unpolluted day, right across any visitors that wanted to brave the road into town from the plains of the west. But people did that. Rockwell was thriving in the post-apocalypse thanks to Bill Nastie’s extraordinary emporium of sluts, which relentlessly hoovered up the more promising, ambitious, and filthily accomplished sluts from a twenty-five mile radius, putting them to work in a relentless existence of pneumatic and lubricious deep-throating, ass-busting and titfucking that few could live up to.

Only the best whores graduated to earn their place at Nastie’s side, and business was booming for the sluts that had emerged out of the ashes of the apocalypse with the right attitude towards human salvation. Rockwell was a ten thousand strong town fortified against earthbound devils with a twenty-four hour lookout guard that watched the enclosing prairie sands with grim determination, never knowing what was next to appear. Visitors were more than frequent to sample the delights of NASTIE’S.

***

Talking of NASTIE SLUT RANKINGS, one of my more illustrious co-workers was clearly finishing her shift. Kiki Minxxx would very likely have been working from midnight to noon, a period of time which could have seen her account for literally hundreds of Johns, depending on how many had decided to frequent the place. As I came through the doors, this mega-whore was on her way out, approaching me.

Kiki was in her favourite outfit. She was wearing a stiff, tight, shiny black PVC corset with shiny metal studs all over it, the front of the garment zipped down tight enough to show all of the inner curves of her cleavage. She was actually in the act of zipping it back up in a pointless attempt to preserve some modesty for when she went on the street. Pointless first because she looked like a living fuckdoll and wet-dream no matter whether her monster boobs were protruding out, and second because of the plastering of thick, white spunk that was ostentatiously deposited all over her gleaming, tanned body, a glistening necklace of semen splattered in a radius all over her neck, chest, and knockers.

Kiki was reassembling herself, and pulled a chic little biker cap of the same design and material as the rest of her ensemble onto her head, the black leather studded peak pulled down over one of her eyes. A black leather choker around her neck complemented the look. She also wore a black thong, through which her pink pussy was exposed, and black PVC shiny thigh length boots with six-inch heels and platform soles.

‘Hey slut,’ she said, as she passed me, cum frothing on her lower lip.

‘Hey Kiki,’ I smiled. We air-kissed, not touching, and I could see the splatterings of cum standing out glisteningly on her face, shining in the light. ‘How’d you do last night?’

‘What do you think, girl? I got fucking destroyed!’ She grinned and shook her cans a final time before sticking them back in her corset finally.

‘You leave some for me?’ I asked, scanning the place. It looked pretty dead. There were a couple of whores cavorting round poles and shaking their asses, but I couldn’t spot any promising Johns right now.

‘Nah, just a trail of destruction in my wake, honey.’ Kiki smiled, ‘you better get working on that next tit job, you wanna work nights.’

‘I’m working on it. See ya.’

‘M-wahhhhhhh…’ said Kiki lasciviously, fucking around and pressing her fingers either side of her protruding tongue as she left. I went over to the bar, where Bill would inevitably be found.

‘Heeyyyyy, slut!’ came the regulation call as soon as I made my way over to where Bill held court. In all my life I had never, and I mean never, seen Bill without his dick out. It was just there, all the time, and it was huge. What was the point of putting it away – ever – when some porno whore chickadee would fellate him at the drop of a hat. It was part of the tradition of the place.

Bill was perched on a stool, jeans ubiquitously opened, a leather waistcoat unfastened over a broad, tanned chest. He had a permanent five o clock shadow and favoured sunglasses inside or out.

I couldn’t help it. I had to bite my fucking hand when I saw his dick. It was the same every time I saw it. His monstrous penis was sticking out horizontally from his groin directly at another of my colleagues, Tammi, also, like Kiki, a gorgeous, huge-titted vixen – another night girl, who was positioned beneath him at the bar so that Bill’s gleaming, brawny, vascular, dead-straight fourteen inch-schlong was prodding out nearly all the way to the kneeling slut’s lips, a glutinous line of spunk slowly easing itself out of the tip of his cock and dangling down to tick like a pendulum in the air as Tammi angled her face upwards towards it. It seemed he had just emptied his balls into her slut mouth.

Bill looked me in the eyes after he’d called me, and I watched him place his right hand on the base of his dick, feeling the study trunk of steely tendons and the muscular brawn there. Slowly, as I advanced towards my pimp, he ran his hand up the turgid length, his fist sliding up the greased pole. The action brought a thick gathering of oozing precum and spent cum around the ring of fist and fingers with it as he went, an oily, glutinous curd of slick, thick seed that he slathered around the corona in a glistening mass. Pulling his shaft upwards, Bills grunted, jacked his pc muscle and, repositioning his hand as the base of his shaft, flicked it down hard to propel the glistening wad of spunk into Tammi’s face. She shrieked and giggled and laughed as the fat load smacked her in both eyes and all over her forehead with a heavy, wet SPLATT! sound. When she opened her eyes again, and looked at him, her thick lashes webbed with filaments of white cum, they were alive with joy and life.

'Hey Bill,' I said. Not able to tear my eyes from his monster meatstick.