What a whore wants

The Princess of Knothole Whorehouse gets corrupted by a dashing Hero. #cuckold

Tresia didn’t mind being a whore. She was prettier than the others and well kept for it. The other girls kept their distance, to be sure, but she told herself it was better this way. They had to fuck all sorts of disgusting men, but she was the youngest, the prize of the house. The old master of the house was a stout, fat man, who valued such things. He dressed her in a shroud, to preserve her mystery and “purity”, and ensured the other girls braided her hair with gold each night. Despite being a perverted sod, the master ensured his youngest whore was treated properly by the men of the town. The price of her pussy much higher than the other girls, so thus men could generally not afford her. It was only the richest, best smelling men, or those who scrimped and saved, who were permitted her body for their pleasure. Even then, they usually did not pay to remove her shroud. Tresia was unaware that this was deliberate, as to allow the old master to enjoy her body when no man could afford her costs – which was often.

Tresia didn’t mind it, really. As night fell, the old man liked to lay her on top of him and lick her pussy until she came on his tongue. He clearly had a fetish for it and would spurt almost instantly after she orgasmed on his face. Afterwards, she would clean him up, and he would send her back to the front of the house to entertain and entice, though usually naught came of it, as her price was set so high.

The large, gnarled guard of the house was a formidable, scary figure, who would leer at her as she walked past him, his eyes trailing her body as she took up her pedestal. Several girls were chained in the front, ass and pussies exposed, one barely moving, resigned to her fate, the others, shaking with flirtation, as good whores learned to do. The girl who resisted was not punished, of course, as some of the workers preferred a shy pussy. Tresia, however, wasn’t shy at all. She would stand on display, shaking her tits at men from the nearby work camp. Being around constant cries of passion made her wet, and she wasn’t fucked enough for it. She felt herself longing for the old master’s cock, or even the guard who scared her, to spread her legs and fuck her like the whore she was.

Her lust and vanity began to corrupt her as she spent night after night on display without a patron worthy of her. She secretly began to enjoy the look on men’s faces when they had to settle for one of the cheaper whores. She didn’t even mind it when the old, gnarled vagabond who lived on the outskirts of the camp, jerked off at her while hiding in the bushes nearby. She usually pretended not to notice, until one night, she winked at him.

The old vagabond startled, jerked backwards, and ran off into the bush. Tresia sighed. He would never be able to afford her, anyway. She turned her gaze back to the work camp and instantly locked eyes with a charismatic young man who was watching her with a bemused expression on his face. She flushed at the man -a hero - definitely. She hadn’t seen him in town before. The young man lifted his tankard and took a deep sip without breaking eye contact. How could she have flirted with that old vagabond? Did the hero see her do it? Tresia pulled herself together and shook her beautiful blonde hair. It didn’t matter. She was doing her job, and the hero was breaking bread outside a whorehouse. He knew where he was, surely. Tresia smiled at him and called out, “fancy a ride?”

The hero paused. He set down his tankard and stood up to her call. Tresia took a sharp breath in as she saw how handsome he was. Dark of hair, with eyes like glowing emeralds. The hero approached her and a nearby group of workers wolf whistled, as other local regulars muttered veiled taunts. At this, the young man stopped, and turned to face the growing leers of the crowd behind him. Dark red embers glowed from his hands, and his challenge was unmatched. The voices quieted instantly. Tresia flushed, aware of how powerful this young man must be. The embers faded from his palms, and he turned to her gently, reached out a faintly glowing hand, to which she graciously accepted – she was wet from her earlier pussy licking, but hornier than ever, and now a bit faint of heart.

The hero escorted her past the guard after paying her exorbitant fee, and Tresia nervously led him to her bedding chamber. He closed the door – something she knew meant he had paid extra to remove her shroud - and she began to tremble. To calm her, the hero lifted his palms, chanting a small incantation. A warm purple glow omitted around him, offering warmth, love. Tresia felt her fears dissolve and found herself aglow with intention. She began to undo the hero’s armor and disrobe him, gasping at his naked form, brazen with muscles and scars. He smiled at that and touched her cheek. The hero then knelt his head and lifted her off her knees, kissing her on her mouth, as the whore melted into his body. Pulling her close, the hero lay back into the bed, tenderly lifting Tresia's shroud up and off. He moved his head slightly to nuzzle her bare breast as his hands encouraged the whore to rub her body upon his. Tresia did not know if it were the magic or the hero himself, but it felt as if he almost loved her, even if a dark voice said it was folly. The hero's seduction was the most intimate she had experienced. He gently kissed her breast, her neck, her lips. Tresia was eager, and wrought with desire.

Only the old master had seen her fully exposed before, on the day that he had bought her. Despite this, she was desperately wet, a combination of the old master’s spit and the sensation of the handsome hero seducing her. She reached back and felt the hero’s cock, stiff, hard, engorged. He let out a moan, letting down his defenses, allowing the naked whore to mount his penis. Tresia whimpered softly as the hero clasped her waist and began to fuck her. He was gentle as he was not, as the breadth of his cock took her breath from her chest. Tresia began to moan in kind and after a few minutes, the hero suddenly paused and whispered roughly in her ear. “Why don’t you pretend I’m that old vagabond you were winking at?” Tresia’s heart faltered.

She was just a whore, after all, so she bravely responded; “oh yes, hero, whatever you wish for”. The young man grimaced a bit at that, and Tresia couldn’t help but feel a bit naughty. The hero pumped up once into her, bouncing her a bit on his dick, and jested rather faintly, “ride me then, like you wanted to ride that old geezer”. Tresia complied, strangely turned on that this handsome young man would taunt her like this. She began to hump the hero’s cock, hard, and let out obscene teases and moans “oh yes, you nasty old man, fuck me, nobody gets to fuck my pussy, do you know how lucky you are?” Tresia found herself getting more and more turned on by the act, but felt deeply confused at the same time, not being able to fully commit to the request.

The young man noticed this of course, and began to goad her softly “gods, but you are a fine little slut, aren’t you”, he said, squeezing her tits. “Close your eyes, let yourself go, go on, picture that old fucker pawing and sucking on your tits as his cock pumps into you”. Tresia closed her eyes and felt her nipples being chewed on, her vagina plundered, and actually did it. She pictured the old man in the bushes, his skinny cock, his greedy eyes, and all of a sudden, she started cumming “oh gods, oh gods, oh gods, oh you nasty ooolldddd maaaaan”. Tresia wriggled in pleasure as the hero continued grunted "by the gods, you are actually cumming for that vagabond cock?" The whore moaned in response, growing ever more confused by the hero's intentions. She allowed the hero to continue to fuck her as the moon shifted across the sky, responding to his depraved fantasies “go on then, think about it…pretend I’m him as I fuck you…ugh.. that's it, let me get you pregnant… let me marry you… make you my wife.. ugh…” They were kissing when his cock crowed inside her, the hero getting off to her with the old man, the whore getting off to the hero using her body.

Afterwards, of course, his charisma shifted, and the energy in the room appeared darker. The hero stood, dressed, and looked down at her. Tresia made to kiss him, but at the last moment, he turned away and whispered in her ear “I’ll make your wish come true”. He patted her on the head. She wasn’t sure what he meant. Tresia looked down, saying nothing, her pussy flooded with the hero’s cum who so confused her. He tossed a coin at her naked body and she heard the door close. By the time she looked back up, the hero was gone.

Tresia fell asleep that night, restless. She saw the hero around town from time to time, and heard rumors he had built a house near Knothole bridge. Some nights, after the old master licked her clean, she would walk past the bedding rooms and see the hero with his cock deep in Henny, the fattest, oldest whore of the house, with a satisfied grin on his face. She would bear it, dance outside and offer her goods, knowing the one she coveted was indoors with another.

On one evening, Tresia heard the hero's cries from her nightly position on top of the old whoremaster. She could hear that he was grunting in pleasure, repeatedly, loudly in the bedding chambers. She didn’t like to think about what the fat whore was doing to him, and desperately pretended to cum for the old master. Afterwards, she quickly dressed to resume her duties on display. Tresia strode quickly past the bedding chambers, it was enough to hear it, she didn't want to see it. Clearly, the hero had become accustomed to Henny's charms. His youthful grunts were echoing through the house, and Henny’s wails were putting off customers from entering.

Despite the noise, the guard smiled down at her. As it wasn’t busy, she asked leave to go smoke out the back of the whorehouse. The guard knew he wasn’t supposed to, so he made Tresia promise that she would suck his cock if he agreed. She was scared of the guard, but she did as she was told, she just couldn’t take hearing her hero plow into that fat slut anymore.

He took her out back and quickly dropped his pants, as Tresia made short work of his penis. He had the decency to pull out of her mouth, at least, and came into the bushes beside her. He grunted “must get back now” and pinched her cheek before sauntering back off to his post. She heard him shout and knew he must be beating off camp workers who had taken advantage of his absence. “Get out of her, you degenerate!” She wondered which girl had been plundered, hoping it was that new little bitch who was on display for the first time tonight. She was almost as pretty as her, after all.

Tresia sighed, and pulled out a smoke. She had barely lit it when she heard a rustle in the leaves behind the whorehouse. “Who’s there?” She called out hopefully – “Hero?” To her shock, the old vagabond creeped out of the woods. “Uhmm”, he muttered, “can I get one of those, girl?” Tresia was feeling a bit unsure, so she hastily gave him a smoke, and lit it for the man. “Yes mister, whatever you want”. He had no idea, she knew, that a fortnight ago she had been told to imagine fucking him, that she had actually cum to the thought of it, despite her will.

“Whatever I want...I've been watching you... moon after moon” The old man leered at her, stinking of mulch and old beer. Tresia took a step back, but it was too late. The vagabond dropped the smoke, shoved Tresia back, and threw himself on top of her. “I want you, you little whore, and I can’t buy your cunt, but I can rob your cunt!” Tresia shrieked as the vagabond tore at her shroud, snapping her chains and exposing her genitals. Her pussy, wet from her recent tongue licking, allowed the old vagabond quick entry. She squealed out as the old man roughly mounted her from behind, and penetrated her tight pussy with his swollen, lumpy dick. “Come on, whore, show me how much you want it” he flipped her over and teased her “wink at me, like you did before” Tresia screeched at that, and began to fuss. The man clasped his hand over her mouth, pulled her sideways, and forced her to kiss him as he fucked at her puss.

"Ugh" Tresia pulled away, disgusted, as he took the opportunity to fondle her tits. “Wink, you little slut” the man grunted in her ear. Tresia didn’t know what else to do. She winked. The old man exploded into her pussy, his asshole wrinkling up as he came inside her sacred place. Overwhelmed, Tresia passed out. When she awoke, she was no where near the whorehouse.

The shack was dingy, and small. In the distance, she could smell smoke from the town and hear far away voices. She felt her pussy being licked, and thought of the old master. When she finally came too, she realized that the old vagabond had her propped up on his chest, and he was helping himself to her body. Tresia tried to struggle, but she was tied down somehow… tied to the vagabond, it seemed. “Awake, darling”? The old man jeered. “Its feeding time and I don’t have any food.. seems like you are on the menu”.

Treisa started to thrash “please let me go, sir, I need to get back, before I get into trouble.” The old vagabond didn’t respond, just continued to lick and eat her pussy. It took several minutes for Tresia to stop resisting, and several more for her to be convinced to suck on his cock. It was hard not to, as her head was bound to his penis. “Drink” he commanded, pissing in her mouth.

Tresia almost came from the sensation. This old vagabond had her, kidnapped, bound, and was pissing inside her mouth. She couldn’t move. Why was she turned on? She started to suck, hard. She swallowed and guzzled it up. After she was done, she felt the bonds being released. She looked up and saw her dashing hero, staring at her, with a devious look on his handsome face.

“I’ve been sent to find you, princess of the knothole whorehouse. The old master is very cross with you, and has sent out a ransom for his best whore. By all rights, I should kill this man and take you back… but I have a better idea, as you are so enjoying yourself…

I shall pay your entire price, and gift you to this vagabond. He has bed you, and likely put a child in your belly. If you go back to the whorehouse so defiled, your mistreatment is all but guaranteed. As for the vagabond, he will be killed…surely, you don’t want that, for the father of your unborn babe?”

Tresia didn’t say a word. She knew as a whore, she had little choice in the matter… but she had to try... “Kind hero, would you but make me your wife instead, I would spend my –

The hero cut her off – “I would never marry such a slut. My wives are all pure of heart, and virginal. They would never so disgrace themselves. Besides, I prefer the fat whore, Henny”.

Tresia despaired, but turned back to the old vagabond… “I will be a good wife to you” she stuttered out, knowing she could not return to the whorehouse pregnant. The old man cackled and pulled her back into his hovel. Tresia spread her legs, awaiting the inevitable, as the hero followed them inside, and pulled out his cock, masturbating furiously. “Fuck her, old man, I delivered her as promised, now fuck her until her tits swell and her belly bulges, fuck yes, get the slut pregnant, fuck yes, kiss her, lick her” The hero continued to direct the old man until the vagabond consummated the act by cumming into Tresia's sold cunt.

The hero moaned in satisfaction “Ugh... plant that seed, get that whore full of seed, ugh, that’s it, cum in her, that’s good…worth every gold piece… let me taste it…”

The hero knelt down and started licking Tresia’s cum filled pussy, the old vagabond starting at him with a disgusted look on his face – “Oy! Git out of it, min, how am I gunna get it knocked up if you eatin it, fuck off innit!"

At this, Tresia started giggling manically. She didn't know how she ended up here, but she was incredibly turned on, and the hero was finally giving her affection again. If this is what it took...

The hero wiped his lips, smiling… “you owe me, old man.. don’t forget it." Winking at Tresia, the hero got up and pulled up his pants.

"Guess I better go pay off the old master.. enjoy your new bride".