Mariela's Story
By Littlesilverstar, silverstar222b@yahoo.com
A muscular prostitute does three guys in different ways


AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story stars Mariela, the hooker who made a brief
appearance in my story "Life: A Loser's Story" about the trials and sufferings
of Percy Pigglesworth. This story will go more in-depth into Mariela's life
and give her a day in the spotlight. And of course, a weakling male will get
brutalized and humiliated.

* * *

Mariela came hard, shrieking loudly as the waves of pleasure from her powerful
orgasm flowed through her body. At the same moment, Chad shot a large load of
semen from his massive eight and a half inch cock into her. The two muscular,
good-looking people enjoyed their simultaneous orgasms. As Chad pulled out,
they looked into one another's eyes and smiled.

They rolled out of Chad's king-size bed and stood up. Mariela gave Chad a
kiss, the 5'6" girl having to stand on tiptoe because of his 6'3" height.
"That was amazing as always, hun," she told her friend with benefits. "I love
having you on top of and inside me. You're one of the few men strong enough to
put me on my back."

Chad simply smirked in the cocky manner of a guy who knew he had what women
wanted, without having to pose or fake anything. "I know, baby," he replied.

"I'll just pop in the shower to clean off before going," said Mariela. "I'm
seeing a couple of clients tonight. Text me soon!"

"Sure, Mari." Chad admired the view of Mariela's round, muscular brown ass as
she headed towards the bathroom.

* * *

Mariela entered the elegant lobby of the Marriott Hotel and headed confidently
for the elevators. Her outfit of a black miniskirt, knee-high high-heeled
black leather boots, and a white blouse was sexy enough to show off her hot
body, yet classy enough to make it perfectly plausible that she was just a
regular businesswoman staying at the hotel. She pushed the button for the 12th
floor. When the doors opened, she headed off to the room number she had
memorized and knocked on the door. It was opened quickly and she stepped
inside.

She smiled at the man as she closed the door behind her and felt the familiar
rush as he blushed a little as he smiled back. He was the same height as her
in her high heels, so that meant he was about 5'10". He was cute enough, a 6
out of 10, though not hot like the 9 out of 10 Chad. That was why Chad got it
for free, while this guy would have to pay.

"Hi, I'm Dean," he said. "You must be Mariela. Wow, you're even hotter than
your Internet pictures."

She laughed. "Thanks. I get that a lot." As she set her purse on the table and
rolled up the sleeves of her white blouse, she noticed Dean looking at her
newly revealed forearms. "Find something you like, baby?"

"Of course. I like everything about you. You have muscles that most other
girls don't have."

"Most guys, too," she added. As she spoke, she stepped closer to him and
flipped her long, silky jet-black hair into his face seductively. She then
gave him a close-up view of her thick, heavily muscled forearm. From her
Filipina heritage, her skin was tanned a very dark brown, looking even darker
than usual next to the white color of the blouse.

"Now let's see yours." Mariela sat at the table and motioned for Dean to sit
across from her. The two arms looked about the same size, although his wrist
was probably bigger, since Mariela was wearing a black leather bracelet that
covered up the thinnest part of her wrist and made her forearm look thicker.
He had decent muscle tone, though not nearly as developed as hers, and his
skin was of course much lighter than hers, although he was tanned enough that
he obviously spent a decent amount of time in the fresh air.

"Looks pretty close, size-wise," she said. "Hey, wanna play a little game? We
agreed on $250 for the price, right? Let's arm-wrestle. If you win, I'll drop
it down to $200, and if I win, it'll be $300. Deal?"

Dean thought for a moment, then said, "Deal." He placed his arm into position.
Mariela felt calm and confident as she gripped his hand.

"Whenever you're ready," she said.

"Okay...ready...set...go!"

Dean came out strong, pushing with all his strength, trying to overwhelm her
quickly. She was strong enough to absorb it, however, giving a little but
still keeping her arm well above the table. He tried a few more surges, each
one running into more and more resistance, before she turned from defense to
offense. Unlike him, she simply used slow, steady pressure, relying on both
her strength and her stamina. Gradually, she pushed his arm back to the
starting position, then slowly downward. He didn't go down easy, making her
work for it, earning some respect from her. She was beating him, but at least
he could put up a fight. Finally, inevitably, his arm touched the table.

Dean sighed, clearly disappointed, but gave her a look of admiration. "You
beat me fair and square." He reached into his pocket and handed her three $100
bills.

Mariela smiled at him as she put the money in her purse. "Hey, at least you
were man enough to put up a fight." She looked at the watch on her other
wrist, a large gold man's Rolex that worked well on her muscular frame. "You
lasted over a minute. A lot of guys can't even last ten seconds."

She stood up and removed her boots. "Enough foreplay. Let's fuck." As she
spoke, she removed her blouse. She wasn't wearing a bra and her firm, round,
natural 36C's were exposed immediately. Unlike most other girls, Mariela had
no tan lines, her tits being as dark brown as the rest of her skin.

"Definitely down with that," said Dean, taking off his shirt and unzipping his
pants. As his now fully erect cock was exposed, she nodded. Six inches, a
decent length, not long enough to be one of the "friends with benefits" she
fucked for free, but enough that she could fuck him for money.

"Condom," she said as she removed her short skirt and lacy red panties.
Although she let guys like Chad fuck her raw, she always insisted on the use
of a condom with her paying clients. Dean nodded, reaching down to the floor
to take one out of his pants pocket, and put it on.

"Lie on the bed on your back," she instructed him. "I'm going to give you a
hard fucking."

* * *

"Damn, Mari," said Dean, using the diminutive form of her name, as she'd
allowed him to do while they had been fucking. "That was amazing. Definitely
the best I've ever had. Paid or unpaid." He finished putting on his boxers and
reached for his pants.

Mariela had already put her panties and skirt back on. As she finished
buttoning up her blouse, she replied a little cockily, "Thanks. I get that a
lot."

She began putting on her boots. "Call me when you're ready for another
'session.' Same price, $250. Unless you want to arm wrestle again."

"No thanks to the arm wrestling!" Dean laughed as he put on his shirt. "But
I'll definitely be calling you."

She picked up her purse. "See you soon, baby. Bye!" She blew him a kiss. Then,
with a swirl of skirts, she was gone.

* * *

Mariela knocked on the door of a different room in the hotel. It was opened
quickly and she stepped inside, locking the door behind her. She saw the man
waiting for her and managed to hide the smirk that would have appeared on her
face. From the lame, desperate-sounding messages he had written her, she had
suspected he would be one of "those." And he certainly was.

He was short for a guy, around 5'6", the same height as her, although because
of her four-inch stiletto high heels she towered over him. The T-shirt and
shorts he was wearing revealed his thin, scrawny, unathletic body. He probably
weighed less than Mariela's 140 pounds, but at the same time the beginnings of
his gut, likely caused by too much fast food and too little exercise, made his
waist larger than the slim 26-inch waist she carried on her hourglass figure.
His skin was pale, indicating that he spent most of his time indoors playing
video games or jacking off to porn, and his face was dopey, homely, and ugly.
A 2 out of 10, she decided.

His dopey face immediately developed an expression of awe at her beauty and
her muscles. "Hey, sexy. Wow, you're absolutely stunning. Even better than
your online pictures."

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Soon. "Just remember, I'm just a
whore, not your romantic date. I'm Mariela."

"S...sorry, Mariela. I'm Morty," he stammered. He moved closer to her
awkwardly, as if wanting a hug but not even having the balls to go for
something as simple as a hug. She quickly held out her hand and he shook it,
clearly disappointed. She let him feel the strength of her grip before
releasing his hand.

As Morty tried to get the feeling back in his fingers, Mariela allowed herself
a small smile. That handshake was the most female physical contact he was
going to get out of this. Although even doing that repulsed her. But of
course, she had put on her black leather gloves before entering the room, so
at least she hadn't had to make direct physical contact with this loser.

"Well, nice to meet you, Morty. First things first. The money. You stated $700
in your online offer."

"Right, Mariela. Um...can I call you Mari?"

"Mariela will be fine," she replied in an emotionless tone. Not allowing men
to call her by the diminutive form of her name made it clear that there was a
distance between them, and it was clear from Morty's falling face that he knew
it.

He reached into his pocket and handed her seven $100 bills. After counting the
cash, she put it into her purse and set it down on the nearby table.

"Now close your eyes," she instructed him.

Morty's homely face broke into a wide grin, thinking she was going to strip
for him. Eagerly, he closed his eyes and waited.

Nothing happened for a few seconds. Suddenly, there was a horrible pain in his
nose and he felt blood bubbling out. His eyes flew open in a panic. Sure
enough, Mariela had broken his nose with a powerful punch from her large fist.

He staggered around. It took him at least fifteen seconds for him to recover
enough to even say, "WHY?!"

She smirked. Now, she was unleashed. This was the moment she had been waiting
for. Now, she could unload on this dweeb, physically and mentally. "Why?
Because you're a loser. L-O-S-E-R. You're short, scrawny, ugly, dumb, weak,
and perverted. I usually get offers in the $200-$250 range for my 'services.'
But when I saw your offer of $700, I knew you had to be one of those desperate
wankers who couldn't get any sex. You're a virgin, aren't you?"

Morty simply let out a moan, both from the pain of her devastating punch and
the pain in his heart from all his sexual hopes and dreams being yanked away.
Mariela punched him in the face, the rough leather of her glove opening up a
nasty cut on his cheek. "When I ask you a question, you will answer me. And
you will answer with the truth. Is that clear, wimp?" She made another fist.

"Yes, Miss Mariela! It's clear! And yes, I'm a virgin!"

"Of course you are. That ridiculously high cash offer gave it away, and your
weak ugly body confirmed it. Free tip, you fucking incel. Any time any
prostitute sees an offer that high, they know it's one of you people.
Sometimes they just ignore them, but sometimes, like me, they set up meetings
just so they can rob you. Usually, they use drugs, or bring their pimps for
muscle, but I have all the muscle I need right here." She flexed her bulging
biceps, the size of the muscle visible even under the blouse, then suddenly
punched him in his left eye, turning it black.

"Miss Mariela, please," Morty begged when he had finally recovered from her
latest devastating blow. "You have my money. Just take it and go. Please don't
hit me anymore."

"You want me to take your $700 and go. So you think you're in a position to
tell me what to do?"

"N...no, Miss Mariela! That's not what I...I just wanted..." He was
interrupted when she rammed her knee into his stomach. He doubled over,
gasping for breath, unable to talk. Then the pain got worse when she kneed him
again, but slightly lower this time, right in his groin, sending searing,
white-hot agony into his testicles. She stunned him with a vicious headbutt,
then spun around, her long silky black hair flying, and delivered a powerful
back kick from her booted foot to his chest, sending him flying across the
room to land in a heap on the bed.

"I saw you checking my ass out when I turned to put the money in my purse,"
she said. "So now check this out." With that, she suddenly began doing a
series of standing back handsprings towards him, elegantly backflipping like a
pro-gymnast despite the skirt and high heels she was wearing. Morty, still
stunned from her attacks, froze like a deer in the headlights as she tumbled
closer and closer with blazing speed. She finished her tumbling run with a
high back tuck somersault, landing hard on top of him. He let out a grunt.

"Oh, am I heavy?" Mariela mocked him. "I bet I weigh more than your scrawny
ass, but my 26-inch wasp waist is still way smaller than your ugly little
gut." She sat on him, backhanding him hard across the face, releasing more
blood, then rolled up the sleeves of her blouse.

She unleashed a verbal brutalization on him to go with the physical
brutalization. "You actually thought you could fuck me. Well, we women have
standards. They're a lot lower for guys who pay, but you're such a worthless
twerp that you can't even meet those." She held her forearm next to his. The
contrast between her thick, dark brown one with rippling, heavily developed
muscles and his thin, pale one with no muscle tone was quite extreme. "See?
I'm a GIRL and you're supposed to be a MAN, but your wimpy-ass wrist looks
ridiculously thin next to mine. And even your hands are smaller than mine,"
she added as she compared them.

A tear ran down Morty's cheek. Mariela laughed loudly. "Aww, what's the
matter, crybaby? Isn't this what you wanted? A hot chick on top of you in the
hotel bed?" She delivered a stinging bitchslap to his cheek, then stood up and
gracefully backflipped off the bed with an elegant split-leg layout, landing
perfectly on her stiletto heels. "Now strip, cocksucker."

Morty stared at her. She clenched her fists. "I said strip, cocksucker. And I
mean right fucking now."

"Yes, Miss Mariela!" He hurriedly pulled off his shirt, shorts, and underwear,
his pale, weak body lying on the bed naked and humiliated. Shamefully, he had
a raging hard-on, and even more shamefully, his boner was only four inches
long!

Mariela smirked at the sight. "I knew it. All you incel freaks are tiny-dicked
losers. We women have length requirements too. Mine are quite reasonable for a
woman as hot as I am. At least five and a half inches for a paid fuck, and at
least seven and a half inches for a free fuck. But you don't even come close."

Morty, tears running down his face, began begging again. "Please, Miss
Mariela..."

She turned and sent an icy glare at him, shutting him up. "I don't think
you've completely learned your lesson yet. You keep thinking you can make
requests. Well, let me make it very clear that you can't." With that, she
performed an elegant cartwheel to take herself back over to him. Standing over
him, she dropped her elbow down hard onto his gut, knocking all the wind out
of him. She then grabbed him, threw him onto the floor, and spread his legs
wide apart. Morty's eyes widened in horror as she drew back her booted foot.

With a wicked grin, Mariela kicked her helpless male victim in the crotch with
all her strength. The devastating kick sent his testicles back up somewhere
into his body. The agonizing pain was so horrific that he almost blacked out.

"Now do you get it?" she demanded. "Now do you understand that you're in no
position to request or negotiate anything?"

He managed to gasp out, "Yes!" with a high-pitched squeal.

"You'd better. Otherwise..." Mariela walked over to her purse. Reaching
inside, she produced a set of spiked brass knuckles and put them on her right
hand over her glove. She drew her fist back and punched the nearby wall,
leaving a massive, jagged hole. "I'll use these spiked brass knuckles on your
groin if you don't behave," she finished. Morty, quivering, nodded in fear.

"Good. Now, we can get back to business." Mariela went back over to the bed
and reached into the shorts pockets. She sighed as she went through the
wallet. "Only forty bucks extra cash. Well, at least there are credit cards."
She removed his iPhone from the other pocket, then put the wallet and phone
into her purse. Gathering up his shorts, shirt, and underwear, she looked
around, seeing his backpack lying in a corner, and put them in.

"Can't have you calling for help too quick," she said as her eyes traveled to
the room phone. She walked over to it and raised her right leg high over her
head in a full 180-degree vertical split, showing off her extreme flexibility
and giving Morty, lying on the floor nearby, a view up her skirt. She then
brought her leg down with blinding speed in an incredibly powerful axe kick,
her booted foot smashing into the phone and annihilating it into dozens of
small pieces.

"Remember that kick," she said as she looked down at a terrified Morty.
"Remember that I have your driver's license and know where you live. If you
try calling the cops when you finally get to a phone, or try doing any other
stupid thing, I'll find you and use that axe kick on you. Oh, and you're going
to tell the hotel that you destroyed the phone and made that big hole in the
wall, and pay for the damages yourself. I've got your credit cards, but
they'll have your card number on file. Is that clear?" He nodded miserably.

Mariela quickly searched the room for any additional valuables. "Now I'm going
to look in the bathroom. You're going to stay right there." Morty nodded
again, properly cowed.

She came out a minute later, carrying the robe that the hotel provided, and
stuffed it into the backpack. "I've got all your clothes," she remarked.
"It'll be more humiliating if you have to go out in a towel than a robe. Oh,
and of course you're going to tell the hotel that you stole the robe too."

"Well, looks like it's time for me to go," said Mariela as she looked at the
large-faced man's Rolex that fit well on her muscular wrist. She walked back
over to her male victim, relishing his fear as she came closer, her high heels
clicking on the wooden floor. She looked down at him dominantly as she gave
him the finishing touches of her "The Reason You Suck" speech.

"Don't try anything with the cops. Not that it'd do you any good, since
prostitution is illegal and you'd just get your dumb ass arrested. Don't try
anything stupid. You do not want to ever see me again. And don't think you can
redeem yourself by calling another escort. Consider yourself blacklisted,
loser. I'm going to warn all my prostitute friends about you. If you try
calling any of them you'd better hope they just ignore you, because if you do
set up another meeting they'll just beat and rob you like I did. And trust me,
you're such a weakling that any of those girls is capable of beating you up.
And most importantly, remember this: You are unworthy of sex. You're going to
be a virgin forever."

To emphasize her point and deliver a final act of cruelty and dominance,
Mariela stomped hard on Morty's face with her razor-sharp stiletto high heel,
sneering at his cry of pain. She withdrew the heel with a squishing sound,
blood bubbling out from the round hole in his cheek. She cleaned the heel with
a washcloth and dropped the bloody towel right on her male victim's face.

She picked up her purse and his backpack and blew him a mocking kiss. "I hope
it was good for you too, baby," she couldn't resist taunting him. Then, with a
swirl of black skirt and long silky black hair, she was gone.

Morty lay nude on the floor, crying, Mariela's words echoing over and over in
his brain: "You're going to be a virgin forever."

* * *

As the elevator doors opened and she stepped out into the lobby, Mariela
smirked to herself. A good night, she thought. A thousand and forty bucks
cash, tax-free under the table, a free iPhone, free credit cards, two good
fucks, and the brutalization of a wimpy male loser.

She began scrolling through her own iPhone, already planning her next night's
"work." As she scanned the various bids from potential clients, one offer
caught her eye. A thousand dollars? Who the fuck offered that much? Even Morty
had only offered $700. She opened the bid. Percy Pigglesworth. Just the name
itself indicated a huge bitchboy of a loser.

She grinned wickedly as she looked over the details. Tomorrow was going to be
another fun night.

THE END

Drop me a line at silverstar222b@yahoo.com if you liked this story!