Humiliating Foster Care

Phone sex humiliation

I’m pretty sure that I love being demeaned and degraded while I’m getting ferociously fucked so much because my last foster dad loved phone sex humiliation and doing whatever he wanted to me and my tight teen body.  He was the first man to ever treat me like a useless piece of fuck meat and to show me how good it feels to be humiliated by a heavy handed lover and the reason that I like a little bit of shame and discomfort when I’m getting dicked down.

Everybody hated me in school.  Nobody likes the bony, stick figured girl who just transferred over because she’s a ward of the state.  I got picked on by guys and girls, both.  It didn’t help that I went to school every day in tattered, baggy clothes, reeking like piss.  I might as well have had a big target on my back.  What they didn’t know, though, was that those clothes hid welts and scratches and filthy words that would’ve, no doubt, gotten me expelled and that the aroma of urine emanating from my skin was not because I wet the bed, as they all assumed.

My newest pop would wake me up everyday with a fiery barrage of cuss words and a bunch of smacks on the back from a freshly picked crabapple tree switch.  “Rude awakening” doesn’t even begin to cut it.  He wouldn’t stop until I was out of bed and on my feet, then he’d instantly push me down into whatever position he desired and jam his dick into one of my holes while telling me it’s what I deserve.  It was only scary and shocking for the first month or so, but it didn’t take very long to get used to my asshole of an alarm clock.

He had one of those really thick permanent markers, the kind that smell funny but good, and would write whatever mortifying words that entered his molestation filled mind all over my soft but swollen flesh as he pounded away at my puffy teen pussy or obliterated my young butthole.  When he was done doing whatever he wanted to me and filling the morning hole of his choice with his chunky cum, he’d say “Shower time.” and lead me into the bathroom by a handful of my hair.  After tossing me in the tub, he soaked me with his post sex piss which always reeked of too much coffee, and laughed at how it made me choke and gag.  Sometimes he’d bang me again while I was bent over in front of him, but he usually just gave me the morning golden shower, snide snickering and ultra rude remarks.  I could rinse with water afterwards, but no soap.  He said his pee was all the soap and shampoo a slut needed.  Again, after a while, I grew to love my bathing routine.

The foster care system is the reason I am the woman I am today; a cum filled companion to every guy who wants to spend a little time with me.  The last foster dad I was placed with made certain to taunt and tease me and ridicule my every move to toughen me up for taking on all of those guys.  He knew that men can be mean and simply wanted me to have a heads-up before I got out into the real world on my own.  At least, I’m pretty sure that’s what he had in mind when he did all of that stuff to me.  He was either a complete dominant daddy phone sex loving creep… or the best fucking foster parent I ever had!


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