“Oh my god, fuck my ass harder baby!” Stephanie cried out as the man drove his cock in to her ass over and over again.

She didn’t know who he was, just like the dozens of others that came to her home and fucked her. She didn’t even know how they knew she was there, just that they usually texted her before an hour or so before they arrived, though sometimes they would just appear on her doorstep and she’d smiled and show them in.

It was why she spent her days done up in sexy little outfits, traipsing around the house half naked, and made up to the nines. That way she was ready any time they appeared.

Well, that wasn’t quite right, it wasn’t the real “why” she did it, no that was something else entirely. A few months ago she’d just been another waitress in a small diner, waiting on tables and doing her best to provide for her customers.

That was when she’d met him, she didn’t know his name either, though she would never forget his face. It still brought a smile to her when she remembered the surprise and redness in it when she’d slapped him.

It was a hollow smile though, looking back now it had been such a minor slight. It had always been a bone of contention with her since she had been a child, that it had been instinctual more than anything.

“Hey Strawberry Shortcake, does the carpet match the blinds?”

Her red hair had always been a sore point for her, sure it was natural and made her stand out, but she’d been teased endlessly as a child about it. And chased by boys and men when she’d been old enough for them to realize their mistake.

When he’d recovered from the slap, a bright glint in his eyes appeared and all the blood drained from her face as she felt something push deep in to her mind and she froze in place.

He’d stood up and put his napkin down on the table and then walked out, leaving her there for a moment before she blinked and turned and walked in to the back herself. She’d gotten changed in to her street clothes, walked over to the manager and quit, before heading directly home.

The first man had shown up just a day later and fucked her right there in her bed even before she’d had time to go shopping. She’d spent the next few weeks being fucked, and shopping, replacing her entire wardrobe with only strawberry themed items, but mostly lingerie.

Soon enough her days had settled into a cycle; get up, work out, get cleaned up and dressed, get fucked by one or more men, go grocery shopping, spend some time watching TV, then head to bed if none one else showed up, and then repeat.

She felt the man fucking her ass push deep into her and then his hot cum enter her bowels and her back arched as her eyes rolled back in her head and she cried out as her orgasm rolled over her.

By the time she recovered from the orgasmic bliss, the man had already gone to her bathroom and cleaned up and was walking out of her bedroom towards the front door. She laid there, letting the feeling subside, until she heard her front door open and close. She then managed to sit up and noticed several drop of cum on her torso, and she knew he must have flicked them there after he was done fucking her ass and she hadn’t even noticed.

She stood up and headed to the bathroom to clean up herself, noticing the cum that stained the sheets after it had dribbled from her ass. She’d be doing more laundry after she got cleaned up, but she had lots of sheets to replace them with.

It was one of the few “good” things about her situation, there was a constant stream of money coming in to her bank account, much more than her meager job had ever provided. So things like sheets and sexy lingerie weren’t a big concern to her finances.

After getting cleaned up, changed and starting the laundry she went out to the living room and flopped down on the couch. She let out a big sigh and closed her eyes, trying to push the need in her pussy out of her mind, but it was little use, it was always there these days.

There were so many things she didn’t know about her current situation, things she suspected she would never know, but there was one thing she was sure of, she was losing the fight.

Even though she had gone through the motions of, well, being a fuck doll for whoever showed up at her doorstep, she had fought it in her head from the first time it had happened. Dozens of times she’d called out degrading, humiliating things while they’d fucked her, and she’d fought them each and every time, for the first while at least.

It was the orgasms that were the problem. They were so good that she had started looking forward to them, which had slowly chipped away at her fighting them, until now when she said those things, she didn’t fight them at all as she knew what would come next.

She’d started to notice the excitement when she received a text, or when a knock came to her door, but still managed to admonish herself afterwards. She suspected it wouldn’t be long before she lost that fight as well, and then what would be left?

Perhaps, when she was nothing but a willing sex doll, used by whatever men came to her door, he’d return? Would he come back and undo what he’d done? Or would she be stuck like this for the rest of her life.

A shiver of fear and excitement ran through her as she realized that she was no longer sure which would be worse just as a knock came to her door and a squeal of excitement came from her lips as she bounced up out from the couch and rushed towards the door.