The subway spat me out into the sweltering hell of the city, heat clinging to me like a damp, suffocating rag. The sun blazed down, a relentless bastard, as I hustled along the cracked sidewalk, my heart hammering in my chest. Two weeks into my new apartment—a cramped little shithole that still felt like freedom after years with my asshole family—and I was finally Mira, the woman I’d always been inside. At 18, I’d sculpted myself into something fuckable: 5’6”, 56 kg, with small, perky tits that begged for a squeeze, a plump ass that could stop traffic, a tiny cock and balls tucked away, and long, toned legs that stretched for miles. My fair skin glistened with sweat, my heart-shaped face—high cheekbones, straight nose, full lips—framed by dark, wavy hair spilling past my shoulders. Brown eyes with lashes long enough to bat away doubts completed the package.
But freedom ain’t cheap. Rent was due, my savings were bleeding out, and those hormone shots weren’t gonna pay for themselves. I’d been scrolling job listings on my phone, desperate for cash, when I spotted it: used car salesperson at Jack’s lot. Not my dream gig, but hourly pay plus commission? Fuck yeah, I’d take it. I dialed the number, nerves buzzing under my skin.
“Jack’s Used Cars,” a gravelly voice barked.
“Hey, it’s Mira. I saw your ad for the sales gig. Can I talk to Jack?”
A beat of silence. “You’re talkin’ to him,” he said, curiosity cutting through the gruffness.
“Hey, Jack,” I purred, letting hope seep into my tone. “I’m interested. Can I swing by tomorrow to chat?”
“Yeah, sure. Come in around ten,” he grunted, and I hung up, a weird mix of excitement and dread churning in my gut. I’d never sold shit before, but I had charm—and a body men drooled over. That had to count for something.
Next morning, I dolled myself up like a goddamn prize. A sleek black dress hugged every curve—tight enough to showcase my juicy ass and perky little tits, short enough to flaunt those endless legs. I lined my big brown eyes with kohl, making them pop like a fucking siren’s, and let my wavy hair cascade down my back. The mirror screamed “fuck me,” but subtle—like I wasn’t begging for it. Yet.
Jack’s office was a pigsty: car posters peeling off the walls, dust coating every surface. He sat behind a cluttered desk, a stocky white guy in his late 40s, balding with a patchy beard and a gut straining his cheap suit. His gray eyes raked over me, lingering on my tits, then sliding down to my hips and legs like he was pricing a goddamn car. I could practically hear his dick twitching as he sized me up—pretty face, skimpy dress, a wet dream on heels.
“So, Mira,” he drawled, leaning back, eyes glued to my chest, “you ain’t got no sales experience, huh?”
I flashed a cocky smile, meeting his stare. “Nope, but I’m a fast fuckin’ learner, Jack. And I’ve got the goods to make people buy whatever I’m pushin’.”
He smirked, a low, dirty chuckle rumbling out. “Oh yeah? What makes you think you can handle this shit?”
I leaned forward, giving him a peek down my dress at those perky tits. “I’m damn good at makin’ people happy, Jack. Ain’t that what sellin’s all about?”
His laugh hit me like a punch, sending a shiver down my spine. “You’re a bold little thing, huh? Tell me, sweetheart—what’s in it for me?”
I edged closer, resting a hand on his desk, my nails tapping the wood. “Look, I need this gig bad. I’ll do whatever the fuck it takes to prove I’m worth it.”
His eyes sparked, and he leaned in, his breath a hot, sour blast on my face. “Whatever it takes, huh? That’s a big promise, doll.”
“Fuckin’ right it is,” I whispered, voice dripping honey and sin. “Try me.”
He stood, slow and deliberate, and shut the door with a heavy thud that echoed like a jail cell locking. “Sit your pretty ass down,” he said, pointing to a chair. “Let’s talk… perks.”
I sank into the seat, crossing my legs so my dress rode up, showing off those smooth, fuckable thighs. He stepped closer, his cheap suit pants tenting with a thick bulge. His eyes devoured me—my pouty lips, my tight little body—and I could feel the heat rolling off him as he loomed over me, hand braced on the desk.
“You’re a hot piece of ass,” he muttered, voice thick with want. “How’s this sound—I get a taste, and you get the job. Plus a little extra cash for those… girly needs of yours.”
I licked my lips slow, leaning in till my tits nearly brushed his hand. “You wanna deal, Jack? Lay it out.”
His rough fingers grazed my cheek, thumb sliding along my jaw. “Make me happy, bitch, and I’ll make sure you’re set. How’s that?”
The air crackled, his offer hanging between us. Dignity? Fuck it—I needed those hormones, and this was my shot. I stood, shoving papers off his desk, and unbuttoned my dress, letting it fall open. Red lace barely held my tits, my tiny cock and balls straining against the thong. My ass popped out, plump and ready, and Jack’s eyes damn near bugged out as his dick swelled harder in his pants.
“Wanna fuck this?” I teased, voice a filthy promise, shaking my ass at him.
He lunged, grabbing my neck and slamming his mouth onto mine. His tongue shoved in, sloppy and greedy, while his other hand pawed my juicy ass, squeezing hard. I moaned into him, pressing my tight body against his, letting him feel every inch of what he’d bought.
I broke away, dropping to my knees like a good little slut, and yanked his belt open. His cock sprang free—eight inches of thick, veiny meat, the head purple and leaking. I wrapped my hand around it, stroking the hot, pulsing shaft. “Fuck, you’re packin’,” I said, looking up with those big, slutty eyes.
“Show me what that mouth can do, you sexy little cunt,” he growled, voice raw.
I grinned, then swallowed him down, lips stretching wide around his fat dick. He groaned, hips bucking, shoving it deeper till it hit my throat. I gagged, drool spilling down my chin, but I sucked him like a pro, tongue swirling, hand pumping the base. His fingers knotted in my hair, fucking my face hard, grunting like a goddamn animal. “That’s it, choke on it, you dirty bitch.”
My tiny cock twitched, leaking into my thong as he used me. He yanked me off suddenly, spit stringing from my lips to his tip. “Get your ass on the desk, now,” he snarled.
I scrambled up, ass hitting the cool wood as he flipped my dress higher, exposing my lacy thong. He ripped it off with a growl, leaving my plump cheeks bare, my tight hole winking at him. He stepped back, stroking his dripping cock, eyeing me like a piece of meat. “Gonna make me a fuckin’ fortune with that body,” he muttered.
I smirked, spreading my legs wider. “First, let’s sweeten the deal—twenty an hour, thirty percent commission.”
His eyes narrowed, but his dick stayed rock-hard. “You got balls, huh? Fine—deal.”
“Good boy,” I purred, bending over the desk, ass up, tits pressed into the wood. My heart pounded as he stepped behind me, smacking my ass hard enough to make it jiggle. I yelped, the sting shooting straight to my cock.
“Ready to take this dick, you greedy little whore?” he rasped, gripping my hip.
“Fuckin’ do it,” I shot back, bracing myself.
He lined up, the fat head of his cock pressing against my hole, then rammed in—hard. I gasped, the stretch burning like hell as he buried himself balls-deep. “Shit, you’re tight,” he groaned, pulling back slow, then slamming in again. The desk rattled, my ass bouncing with every brutal thrust. His hands clamped my hips, fingers bruising my fair skin, fucking me like a goddamn jackhammer.
“Take it, you slut,” he spat, leaning over me, breath hot on my neck. “This ass is mine now.” His teeth sank into my ear, and I moaned, pushing back, craving more of that thick cock splitting me open. My tiny dick slapped against my stomach, dripping, as he pounded me raw.
He grabbed my hair, yanking my head back. “Look at you, fuckin’ desperate for it,” he growled, slapping my ass again—harder. The sting made me clench around him, and he cursed, thrusting deeper, his balls smacking my skin. “Goddamn, that’s a sweet little hole.”
“Fuck me harder, you bastard,” I begged, voice shaking, my whole body trembling under him. He laughed, dark and nasty, then pulled out, leaving me gaping and needy. “Flip over, bitch,” he ordered.
I rolled onto my back, legs up, tits bouncing as he grabbed my thighs and shoved them toward my chest. My ass hung off the edge, hole exposed, dripping with his spit and pre-cum. He stared down, licking his lips. “Look at that pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he said, then slammed back in, deeper than before. I screamed, the angle hitting something raw inside me, his cock a steel rod tearing me apart.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I chanted, nails digging into the desk as he fucked me senseless. His hips slapped my ass, loud and wet, the room stinking of sweat and sex. He pinched my nipples, twisting hard, making my tits ache and my cock pulse. “You love this dick, don’t you, you filthy little tramp?”
“Yes, shit, yes!” I gasped, my body rocking with his thrusts, legs shaking in his grip. He leaned down, spitting into my open mouth, then kissed me, tongue shoving in deep, claiming every fucking inch of me.
He pulled back, still buried in my ass, and flipped me again—onto my stomach once more, face smashed into the desk. “Gonna wreck this tight little cunt,” he snarled, gripping my hair and pounding back in. My ass jiggled with every thrust, the desk creaking, my moans turning to sobs as he stretched me wider. His hand snaked around, jerking my tiny cock rough and fast. “Come for me, you slut—show me you want this fuckin’ job.”
“Jack, oh fuck, Jack!” I wailed, the pressure exploding as I came, hot spurts splattering against his desk, my tits heaving. He roared, slamming in one last time, flooding my ass with his thick, hot load, pulsing deep inside me.
He pulled out slow, a wet squelch as his cum dripped down my thighs. He grabbed a rag, wiped his cock, and tossed it at me. “You’re hired, you dirty little fuck,” he panted, smirking. “But you’re mine now—don’t forget it.”
I wiped up, ass throbbing, dress sticking to my sweaty skin as I stood. “I’ll be the best goddamn sales bitch you’ve got,” I said, smirking back.
He picked up the phone, still shaky. “Mark, get your ass in here. Got a new girl for you to train.”
The door swung open, and in walked Mark—mid-20s, tall and lanky, shaggy blond hair, blue eyes, and a goofy grin. White guy, lean but wiry, in a faded tee and jeans. He froze, eyeing my rumpled dress, my smudged makeup, my fucked-out glow. “Uh, you’re Mira?”
“Yeah,” I said, shaking his hand, my grip firm despite the ache between my legs. “You Mark?”
“Yup. Let’s, uh, get you started,” he stammered, blushing as he led me out.
The lot stretched out under the brutal sun, cars gleaming like bait. Mark walked me through it, rattling off specs, but his eyes kept drifting to my tits, my ass, those legs he couldn’t ignore. We stopped at a red convertible, and he grinned. “This baby’s a real catch—tons of power.”
I laughed, leaning against it, letting my dress ride up. “So am I, Mark. Stick around—you might see what I can really do.”
He turned red, and I filed that away—another mark to play if I needed. The day dragged on, me flirting with sleazy customers, batting my lashes, shaking my ass, selling three cars by sundown. Jack called me back in, eyeing my messy dress. “How many?”
“Three, with more lined up,” I said, smirking, hips cocked.
“Not bad, slut,” he grunted. “But you’ll do better.”
“Fuckin’ watch me,” I shot back, leaning on his desk, giving him a view of my cleavage.
His hand slid up my thigh, rough and possessive. “Keep this up, and I’ll have bigger shit for you, Mira. Real big.”
I shivered, half-thrilled, half-sick, but I was in. “Whatever it takes, Jack,” I purred, ready to ride this filthy game to the top.
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