My name is Valerie and I’m a slut.

It’s not something I’m proud of, in fact I’m ashamed, disgusted by myself, but it is just a fact that I have to acknowledge. This realisation came to me relatively late in life – the grand old age of twenty-five in fact – and now I’m writing about my shame and humiliation, telling the whole world - or at least those who are interested - what a skank I am. Why? I could say it’s a cautionary tale, to warn off others, but the truth is much more prosaic – confessing my ‘sins’ to a wide readership will be publicly degrading, and that will serve to feed the arousal I always feel when I suffer such abuse, even at my own hand. Sick, huh?

I’m not a particularly attractive woman. My figure has usually been described as  boyish or, by more erudite observers, androgynous. The word I would use is shapeless – no boobs, no waist, no hips. When combined with my short, straight, boring black hair and thick glasses, I’m not what you’d call a great catch. People have pointed out the occasional redeeming feature - my plump, cupid’s bow lips, or my nicely rounded bum - but that's just family and close friends trying to make me feel better.

Not that that has stopped me having my fair share of boyfriends, or losing my virginity at the ‘acceptable’ age of seventeen – neither too young to be slutty nor too old to be desperate. I’d even had a long-term relationship, with a guy called Mark, for three years. I’d really thought he was the one, right up until he’d told me he wanted me to move out to make room for his new girlfriend, Angie. Devastated, I had made the mistake of asking him ‘Why?’

“Honestly, Val?” he said with a cruel smirk, “because she looks better than you do, and she fucks better than you do.” What a bastard!

I couldn't afford to run away like I wanted to, I had to take a small rented house on the outskirts of the market town where I worked as a fairly lowly paid legal secretary at a firm of solicitors called Hollander, Smith and Johnson. I used to see the happy couple if I went out to pubs and clubs, so I stopped going out. Not that I could afford it any more, now that most of my income was going on rent. I became pretty reclusive, and hardly saw anyone, let alone prospective dates, over the next couple of years.

One day I was walking home from work, not being able to afford to use my car every day, when the heavens opened in a tremendous summer downpour. I was quickly drenched, my blouse and skirt plastered against my body, my best shoes getting ruined. There was no point in running home, I was already soaked, and I trudged along miserably. Just then, a car pulled up just in front of me and the side window wound down.

My mother taught me to never accept lifts from strangers and, despite the dreadful conditions and the prospect of another half an hour of walking, I leaned down to say ‘thank you, but I'm fine’. In fact, I got halfway through my little brush-off speech when I realised that the driver smiling back at me was none other than Alan Finch, the famous, and famously gorgeous, actor (names have been changed although, as you will find out, there are no innocents here to be protected).

"Come on, jump in!" he said as I stared at him, my mouth hanging open. Something in my brain said ‘okay, well he's not a stranger, he’s Alan Finch!’, and I opened the car door and got inside.

"Where can I take you?" he asked, and my immediate thought was ‘anywhere you like!’ Mutely, I pointed in the direction towards my house, so star-struck that I was unable to actually form words.

"What's your name?" he asked with a smile. My name? What was my name? I do have a name! I know I do! I just… couldn’t take my eyes off that ruggedly handsome face with its designer stubble, framed by dirty-blonde hair, black T-shirt barely containing the ripped torso, blue jeans emphasising rather than concealing the bulge at the crotch…

“Er… I er, !’m, er, Valerie,” I managed to say once I'd dragged my eyes off him, "thanks very much for the lift, if there's anything I can do in return…"

"Well, ur-Valerie," he said teasingly as he pulled to a halt where I had indicated, "why don't you ask me in for a drink?" I blushed at his mocking, but then became even more excited at the thought of having this famous actor in my house.

"Oh, yes!" I gushed, fumbling with my seatbelt, "yes please! I mean… would you like to come in, Mr. - I mean, Alan?" I didn't give him a chance to refuse, piling out of the car and dashing to the front door. My hand was shaking a little as I tried to get the key into the lock, but eventually I had the door open and I went inside, feeling his presence behind me.

"What w-" My enquiry died on my lips as I turned and found him only inches away from me, looking down into my face.

"You really ought to get out of these wet clothes first," he said in a quiet but firm tone. I looked down and watched, mesmerised, as his hands went to my neckline and, slowly and deliberately, unfastened the buttons of my blouse. When he had them all undone, he pulled the wet material off my shoulders and down to my elbows, pinning my arms to my sides. As I looked up, he bent down, and our lips met in a soft, passionate kiss.

My heart was pounding and my ears ringing as I felt his tongue work its way into my mouth. By the time I had recovered my senses even a little, the blouse was on the floor, quickly followed by my skirt. I stepped out of my shoes, losing another inch or two in height, and I craned my neck, reaching up for another kiss.

"These things are wet too," he murmured, sliding my bra straps off my shoulders. As if in a daze, I reach behind my back and unclipped my bra, before tossing it to one side. In the meantime, his hands had slid down my sides and pulled my panties down to mid-thigh.

"Wow, that's one hairy bush!" he laughed, "I haven't seen anything like that since the last time I watched a 70’s porno!" I blushed furiously and looked down at the floor, feeling ashamed at my lack of personal grooming. I only ever trimmed my pubic hair when I was going to be in a bikini, and I hadn't had a holiday in quite a while, so there was the best part of two years growth there.

"No, don't get me wrong," he said gently, a finger under my chin turning my face up to look at him, "I like 70’s pornos." I gasped as I felt his long, slender fingers running through the short, black curls and pressing the soft flesh underneath.

Suddenly, he picked me up in his arms and carried me towards and then up the stairs, like some romantic hero, and I put my arms around his neck, trying to ignore the fact that I was stark naked whilst imagining I was the innocent heroine in a Jane Austen novel. He took me into the room I indicated and put me down gently on the bed. I was panting like a bitch in heat, which was about right - I hadn't been in a situation like this since… well, forever if truth be told. I looked up at him, standing over me, unable to move or speak, just hoping…

He got on the bed and leaned down to kiss me again, our tongues and saliva mixing while his hands roamed across my breasts and stomach, reaching down as far as my pubic triangle. My nipples rapidly hardened under his gentle touch, but then I thought I was going to explode when he moved and applied his lips and tongue to the task. I wantonly spread my legs as his fingers parted my pussy lips, exploring the terrain beneath the dark forest. I actually let out a cry, half scream, half moan, when he changed his position again and his tongue sought out my desperately eager clitoris for attention.

I writhed underneath him as he spread me wide open and ran his incredible tongue over every millimetre of my tender, sensitive flesh. He soon had me moaning and crying out in ecstasy, driven to orgasm in a way I had never experienced before. I squealed in delight, clutching at my hair reflexively, feeling my cheeks burn, my mouth forming a perfect O, then closing so I could bite my lip. The waves of pleasure crashed over me seemingly without end until, finally, my body went limp and all I could do was pant for breath.

By the time I had recovered, he was standing over me, stripping out of his clothes, revealing his magnificently toned body, just like I'd seen in several TV dramas. My eyes were inevitably drawn down to what I had not seen on the TV, and I was not disappointed! He was, in my humble opinion, and based on a not very wide sample, big. It was only semi-erect, but it looked bigger than anything I'd had before - not that, in this case, size was important, it was so long since I’d had anyone, almost anything would do!

"Okay, Valerie," he said as he got back onto the bed and lay back, "climb on board and I'll take you for a ride!" Quickly, I straddled him, lowering myself gently onto his rock hard erection, letting it slide slowly into my well-lubricated hole. I threw back my head and let out a low moan as it sank deep inside me, filling me more completely than I could remember ever having been before.

"That's it, girl," he urged, staring up at me, "move back and forward on me, give yourself pleasure!"

I did as he commanded, luxuriating in the feeling of him moving inside me, in and out as I bounced gently on top of him, pressing against the walls of my vagina as I rocked forwards and backwards. My eyes were closed and I was already making quite a lot of noise when I felt his hands reach up and grab my breasts, squeezing them firmly, almost to the point of pain, but heightening my arousal to new levels.

"God, you look beautiful, Valerie," he breathed, squeezing my breasts a little harder and pinching my nipples, "riding my cock like the slut you are! How does it feel?"

"It… feels… incredible!" I panted, and then I was cumming again, screeching at the ceiling as my pussy clenched down on his gorgeous member, juice squirting out of me as the climax racked my body. I had never experienced anything like this before - I was lucky if I had one orgasm during a night of love making, and never more, so this was uncharted territory. This one seemed even more intense than before, I'm not sure whether that was because it was my second in rapid succession, or because I had his prick inside me, but I was trembling by the time it finally passed and I collapsed onto his chest.

"Oh, thank you, Alan," I gasped, "that was the most amazing experience of my life! I've never felt pleasure like that before!"

Without a word, he flipped me over onto my back and got into the classic 69 position with me underneath him. I couldn't believe that he was carrying on, I'd thought that was it for the night, but then I realised that he hadn't even cum yet, and I spread my legs eagerly. I wasn't very experienced at oral sex, but I was desperate to please him, and I quickly took him deep into my mouth. When I felt his lips and tongue back at my already-overstimulated pussy, I set about sucking and licking him with great enthusiasm.

"Whoa! Whoa, girl!" he cried out, pulling away from me, "what the hell are you doing?! You are really bad at giving head!" I felt mortified at this clearly heartfelt criticism, and I blushed bright red in embarrassment and humiliation. I couldn't believe that I was going to drive him out of my bed because of my appalling fellatio technique!

"Okay, let's try a different position," he said as he sat back on the bed and pulled me over his now fully erect member.

"You have to love this thing, Valerie," he said with a smile, stroking my hair, "I know I do! So start off by getting your lips and tongue nice and wet with saliva and then coat my prick with it."

I did as he instructed me, licking him from his balls to the tip of his cock, pressing my moist lips against his shaft and oozing saliva all over it.

"That’s it, that's the way," he said encouragingly, "now take just the head into your mouth and tease it with your tongue. Mmmmm, very good, Valerie, we’ll make a cocksucker of you yet!"

I felt good when I heard his praise, and I did exactly as he said, pulling back his foreskin and running my tongue all around the head of his cock, letting my mouth flood with saliva as my lips formed a seal around the shaft.

"Excellent, good girl," he moaned, "now take it in as far as you can, all the way to the back of your throat. Try to control your gag reflex…"

There were still a couple of inches outside of my mouth when I felt myself retch as the tip of his cock touched the back of my throat. I had to pull back and cough to one side to stop myself from throwing up.

"Don't worry," Alan said, stroking my hair, "that's bound to happen at first. You’ll get the hang of it after a while. Okay, give it another go."

He guided me back into place and pushed gently on the back of my head until his shaft was once more buried in my mouth. I moved back and forth on him, using my tongue and lips as I did so, and I was soon rewarded with his moans of pleasure. As I continued to work away, I felt his prick jerk, and I knew that he was about to explode. I’d never actually made a man cum with just my mouth before, so I'd never tasted spunk, and didn't really fancy it then either! I started to pull back, but his hand pressed the back of my head more firmly, preventing me from disengaging.

Suddenly, I had a mouthful of thick, warm, salty, and frankly disgusting-tasting cum. As Alan let go of me, I ran with bulging cheeks into the bathroom and spat the foul liquid into the sink, grabbing the mouthwash and rinsing thoroughly.

"Dear me, Valerie," Alan said as I wandered back into the bedroom, "you did a pretty good job for what was obviously your first time, but you'll have to swallow the next time, can't have you running off all the time, can we?" There was going to be a next time? I couldn't believe how amazing this night was turning out, and the idea that there would be another night like this! Wow!

But I didn't have any time to dwell on that, as he pulled me back onto the bed and climbed on top of me. I was amazed that his cock was still erect, even after his climax, I just wasn't used to this! Moments later, he was on top of me and inside me, thrusting away so violently that I had to hang onto the headboard to stop my head banging against it! Now we were both grunting and groaning, him at the effort that he was putting in, me at the pounding I was receiving. This time, we both came, me digging my nails into his back as he pumped his seed into my well-used pussy.

"Oh, Alan," I sighed as we lay together on the bed, "that was so, so good! I've never had sex like that before!" As I drifted off into a contented sleep, a stray thought wandered across my brain - I wonder if he'll give me an autograph now…

I awoke in a state of confusion as I felt a sharp pain in my wrists. As I opened my eyes, I realised that I was now lying on my stomach and that my arms were stretched out between the bars of the headboard. To my shock, I saw that the cause of the sudden pain was that Alan had wrapped a leather belt around my wrists and was now buckling it tightly in place.

"Alan?" I said muzzily, "what are you doing?" He didn't answer, or even look at me, just finished tightening the belt and then walked around behind me.

"W-why did you tie me up?" I stuttered, "what are you going to do to me?!"

Again, he didn't answer, but climbed onto the bed and spread my legs wide apart. I felt his fingernails dig into my buttocks as he pulled them apart and then he spat on me, a great gobbet of saliva sliding down between my cheeks. His fingers smeared the slimy liquid around my anus, one of them even pushing inside. Suddenly, I realised what he was going to do and why he had bound my wrists.

"No!" I cried, "not there! I've never… I don't want… Please don't!"

With his knees between my thighs, I couldn't pull my legs together, and there was nothing I could do as he held my hips tight and pressed the head of his erect member against my virgin sphincter. There was no gentle easing or sliding into place - once he had it lined up, he rammed his shaft into me in one violent thrust, bringing a scream of agony from me. Over and over he slammed his cock in and out of me, ignoring or, for all I knew, enjoying my screams, interspersed with desperate pleas for him to stop. I was in agony, but I also felt humiliated at this violation, feeling that I was being punished for acting like such a slut earlier. I felt tears come to my eyes, and then roll down my burning cheeks.

He was grunting with effort as he sodomised me far more violently than he had fucked me earlier. It was awful, so painful, so degrading, so humiliating to be used as his fuck toy with no choice in the matter. I cried, and screamed, and grunted, and… moaned… and gasped… Somehow, it became… arousing. The longer it went on, the easier it seemed to become, his cock sliding in and out of me more rapidly, the pain, while still there, being overwhelmed by the strange sense of pleasure now coursing through me.

At last, with his sweat dripping down onto my back, he gave one final thrust, one final guttural roar, and I felt him empty himself inside me. As he pulled out and fell back onto the bed, I could feel the strange sensation filling my body, making me feel… warm. It wasn't an orgasm, it felt more like I had just enjoyed several hours of foreplay, and would be more than happy to enjoy several more. I tried to pull my arms back and felt the tight leather bite into my wrists painfully, but it only added to my sense of arousal, leaving me tingling all over.

"Did you enjoy that?" Alan asked in an amused tone as he lay beside me.

"Fuck off!" I replied hotly, "untie me, you bastard!" I let out a squeal as he slapped me sharply on the buttock. But then he began to run his fingers up and down my back, across my cheeks, and between my legs. Soon I was fully aroused again, and he knew it.

"Admit that you enjoyed that," he said in a stern tone, "or I'll spank you properly."

"Okay! Okay, I admit it!" I responded reluctantly, my cheeks burning with shame, "I enjoyed it, I enjoyed it all!"

Apparently satisfied with my confession, he quickly dressed, with me still bound to the bed. Just when I thought he was going to leave me there, he unfastened the belt and put it back around his waist.

"Y-you're leaving?" I said, failing to keep the dismay and disappointment out of my voice. He didn't even look around.

"Will I see you again?" I asked desperately as he reached the bedroom door.

"Maybe," he replied, looking around at me with a cynical smile on his face, "if I've got no-one better to do!" With that he was gone, and I heard his footsteps on the stairs, the front door slam, then the engine of his car roar into life and race away.

I let my head slump forward into my hands. I felt so stupid! Anyone with half a brain would know that a guy like that would see a girl like me as just a bit of fun for a one night stand. He had taken exactly what he wanted, and I had let him.

But, gradually, I realised that I had got exactly what I wanted as well, and I wanted more. I wanted to see him again, I needed to see him again. And I knew that I would do anything to experience these same feelings again…