A motel to remember

A number of messages that I’ve recently received, inspired me to write this short story. I’ve used a lot of the expressions and ideas that those messages conveyed. I hope that those men who like this kind of thing, will enjoy my little tale.
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It’s amazing really, how I, who always looked on love as something beautiful and tender and sweet, should be drawn into something so degrading and awful.
Anyhow, to tell you how it all came about, I’ll go right back to the beginning.

I was happily married, and still am for that matter, but liked to explore porno sites on the net; and not only to explore them but to also talk to the sexy men who frequented those wicked sites.
Of course I shouldn’t have been there at all. My husband wouldn’t have been very happy about it had he found out. But then, it was after all, no more than just talk, it wasn’t as if anything was actually happening, although I do admit to having been excited enough to masturbate sometimes. Nevertheless, the fact remains that this was what I did.

One particular man began writing to me, and I always wrote back enthusiastically enough. At first his messages were very polite and nice, but I admit that I quickly began to get bored with them, because, after all, it was a sex site and I wanted more than just everyday chat.
Not wanting to hurt his feelings, I began wondering how to get rid of his attentions. The best way was to simply become remiss in replying to his messages, and then after a while they’d just die a natural death.
I began to follow that tack, taking days to respond to each of his messages.
Whether he sensed this waning of my interest, or whether he’d planned it all along, I don’t know. I only know that there was a sudden change in his mode of writing.
I received a message from him, in which he said, “you have to admit that women like yourself, who come here, are really just sluts, aren’t they.”
Well of course he was quite right in his assertion. I wrote back, perhaps a little bit too quickly, and made some offhand mention to what he’d said, and did in fact agree with him.
Straight away I received another message in which he opened by addressing me as “Slut Yvonne” followed by a smiling face to make it look as if it were just a joke. Even though he tried to pass it off as a joke though, he twice more in the message, referred to me as a slut.
Well I must admit that this very slight change had the effect of arousing my interest once more, and so I wrote back more promptly once again.
His next message was much more what I was looking for on that site. He talked openly of sexual things, continually referring to me as “slut”, and even calling me a “dirty slut” and a “filthy slut” – something that excited me tremendously.
It must have been obvious to him that I took no offence from his way of talking, and in fact he perhaps saw that I was excited by it. He spoke openly of everything sexually perverted, and made the most outrageous suggestions, saying, “a filthy cunt like you would like that.”

It embarrasses me to tell that I was thrilled by his filthy talk, but I guess that’s the beauty of the net isn’t it, one can really let go and express their true feelings.

This mode of talk went on for some weeks in which our messages were passed almost daily. There came though, a further change in his approach towards me. He initially spoke in much the same vein that we’d become used to, but then he said, “What I’m really looking for though, is not just a dirty slut like yourself, what I want is a filthy bitch who is really fucking depraved, someone who I can treat as a sub-human animal, a filthy fucking pig, a sow to be fucked and abused.”
I was a bit stunned.