What is the doll Vika capable of?

Khrushchyovka. 3rd floor. One-room apartment. Early May. Night. Time: 00:03.

Lonely Viktoria was curled up in a bed grown cold from universal indifference. Even despite the late, past-midnight hour and the preceding Friday revelries, her body demanded new adventures. The consequence of these urges was insomnia – a wicked girl… In turn, the consequence of these urges was her strong sexual libido – and so aching and overwhelming that she wanted to fuck even without a detailed idea of the object of desire, i.e., a man who would physically take care of Vika. The practicing prostitute was provided pleasure

only by dreams of the process itself: for example, that she could hypothetically allow anyone to brazenly grope her, let them enter her tight pussy, make them lick a cock clean of her own juices, shamelessly spank her, grab her by the hair and start roughly using her mouth as a cock receptacle… and other modest flatteries, which she was no stranger to experiencing.

The stirring fantasies were not limited to thoughts alone. Things were beginning to move towards realizing her inner nymph. She got out of bed and went to the table where the computer was. She sits at the table, turns on the keyboard crown of civilization. The monitor lit up welcomingly, the desktop wallpaper visible. The browser opens – and within a second, Vika is running her mischievous eyes over her favorite sex-dating site. There, the deviless of the night logs into her blog, quite well-known in narrow circles of perverts. Tapping with the fingers of one hand on the keyboard (the other hand was busy kneading her freshly shaved pussy) in the blog's text field, she writes:

"Good night, boys!

Once again, your favorite slut is going on tour to the stage of the inglorious little nook!

She will be wearing only panties and a light beige dress.

You are allowed to do with her whatever your heart desires!

Your Vika,

Tsyom :)"

Viktoria moved the cursor to the "Send" button and clicked the left mouse button, its click echoing through the room. Now, a message spans the full width of the site page: "Post successfully sent!" The hunt of lustful males for the mischievous bunny had begun… even though the prey itself promised to serve itself up on a platter.

In a hurry to feel the dirty advances of hungry men upon herself as quickly as possible, Vika dressed exactly as promised in her blog: a beige dress with a décolleté and a length just above the knees was put on her naked body, which, while attractive from the outside, was also quite old – after all, when choosing her outfit for today, she anticipated that she would return home, due to the upcoming turbulent events, at best in torn clothing. And the dress rather served as an object of concealment: in any case, she had to get to that very spot somehow without attracting extra attention, and once there, such an accessible attachment would surely be quickly undressed… Forgot something? Oh, almost missed one detail… panties! Black see-through panties, only nominally hiding Vika's tender bud from lustful gazes, were a mandatory element of her future ritual. Yes, they would undoubtedly be stolen. Taken off, or even torn with the selfish goal of penetrating the depths of the dissolute slut as quickly as possible, which she truly was. But that's what Vika is aiming for… it will become an element of special excitement for her. And for now, slipping both legs into the designated holes of the panties, forgetful Vikusya suddenly decided to check her little friend with her fingers – was she already wet or not?.. "Just a little," flashed quietly in her head. And no wonder: all the tastiest things were still ahead…

Anticipating her future ordeal, Vika entered the hallway. A moment – and white sneakers are on her bare feet. Another moment… the door lock made a clicking sound – the front door is open. Marking its swift closing, an exactly similar click sounded. The apartment is left behind. No way back: only the door key hidden under the doormat (and hidden because she would surely lose it in the hour of coitus) testified to the hostess's future intention to return to the territory of her legal housing property.

The depraved Vika walked along the stairwell. Here she descended to the second floor…. It smelled of recent cigarette smoke – had she come out even a minute later, the neighbor from downstairs would have certainly noticed her right in such a dissolute state… And here's the first… Here, the foul and sharp smell of urine was already habitually noticeable for all the building's residents… Nothing unusual. All that remained was to exit the entrance and head on the long journey.

That very "secluded nook" she was heading to was a garage cooperative adjacent to the high-rise building located at the other end of her street. Yes, Vika had to walk quite a bit… but it was worth it. The cherished dark silhouettes of the tops of old, still Soviet-era garages were already clearly visible. And here she is, among their dirty labyrinths, heading to the final destination – a secluded corner, invisible to the eyes of random passersby, located behind one of these garages…

Finally, Vika reached her final destination… The corner, with an area of about seven to eight square meters, was a small clearing, carefully shielded by garage walls and various outbuildings. In this corner stood a leather, somewhat worn-out sofa. God knows who and when threw it out, but now it faithfully served visitors of the garage cooperative as the local resting place. A rather large sofa: about five or six people could definitely fit on it – just right for Vika's requests…

– Good night, slut.

A red ember of a lit cigar oozed a column of smoke, reaching for the stars themselves. Vika was not alone in this square – on this sofa, sitting quite comfortably and sprawled out, in the shadow of the streetlights, sat a mature man – one of those she had called by posting her entry in the blog… He was in a leather windbreaker and sweatpants, paired with rather mud-stained black sneakers… Oleg. His name was Oleg. He is 53 years old. By profession – an auto mechanic, works in this same garage cooperative. Also, like Vika, lives nearby.

The one to whom this greeting was addressed only smiled coquettishly and bit her finger. Fallen-in-all-her-holes Viktoria had been called epithets far less banal to her ears.

– Seems you wanted to fuck late today, – Oleg noted with a hint of reproach. Between phrases, he methodically smoked his cigarette.

– Well, I wasn't thinking of coming out today, – admitted Vika, – I wanted to sleep – but insomnia tormented me.

– Poor slut, – Oleg pitied her, scratching the back of his head. – Maybe, – he made a short pause to take a drag, – you'll come closer, sit on the sofa? Why are you standing there by the passage as if you've never seen my unwashed dick?

Vika heeded the reasonable remark and moved closer to her older interlocutor. However, she was in no hurry to sit down: the wayward nymph only stood right next to the man, teasing him with her feigned indecision and whorish wiggles of her ass.

– Seems you're a bit drowsy today, bitch, – Oleg grumbled, slapping Vika painfully on her bare buttocks.

– Ah-h-h… – she moaned. – I decided to tease you today, – Vika drunkenly parried, thereby asking for further aggressive actions from Oleg.

– You, I see, have gotten a bit too cocky, – the man stood up sharply and grabbed Vika tightly by the throat. – But it's okay, fucking whore… I like your spirit!

After these words, he literally sank his teeth into the lips of the guilty Viktoria, biting them. A parallel action was slipping a muscular hand under the girl's dress, simultaneously greedily groping her flat stomach and firm tits and mercilessly stretching the fabric of her scant clothing.

– You should know your place, shack-dweller, – his slap came down on Vika's left cheek. – Now you'll once again be convinced that your lot is to unquestioningly service my dick and not act up unnecessarily, – a second slap, stronger, hit her right cheek.

Grabbing Vika firmly by the neck, he threw her onto the sofa with all his might. Now she lay on her stomach – with her dress hem pulled up for her tormentor's viewing.

– Why the fuck did you put on this useless rag? – Oleg pointed at the transparent fabric encircling her appetizing buttocks, which was her panties.

The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a folding knife. With a jerk, he grabbed the playfully kicking and moaning Vika with one hand by the back of her head and pressed her face into the sofa. With the other, deftly wielding the knife, he went for her crotch with the aim of cutting off the panties… A second – and all that remained of Vika's underwear was a slightly juice-soaked, useless piece of fabric, soon ending up in Oleg's hand.

– I'll keep this as a souvenir.

He stuffed what was previously considered her panties into his windbreaker pocket… now it was his trophy and first spoils.

Next, taking advantage of Vika's complete helplessness, Oleg leaned his whole body onto her back, simultaneously pulling down the waistband of his sweatpants.

– Today I'll fuck you first, whore. Prepare your slit for me.

His cock, appearing from behind his thighs, was already hard as a rock and roughly intended to enter Vika's pussy, heated with excitement. Deftly positioning himself, he roughly entered her flower almost to its full length. Having aimed excellently, he began pounding his infallible courtesan's vagina with all his might, simultaneously covering her mouth with his palm, from which muffled sounds of lechery issued… Vika liked this circumstance – and therefore, as if insane, she emitted an abundant amount of lubrication from her pussy.

– You flow well, mattress, – he praised her for wanting to get aroused from such rough treatment.

Vika's buttocks rang quite a bit from Oleg's rather fierce pounding. Her clenched eyes radiated true enjoyment of the process… But nothing lasts forever under the Moon: soon Oleg, having exhausted himself, deigned to withdraw his member from Viktoria's womb, abruptly got off the girl's body and, after jerking off for a second, came violently simply onto the ground.

– Oh-h, fuck… – he panted with satisfaction. – You know, Vika, – he addressed her, – you are the best whore on the planet!

– Th-thank you… – the laureate of the highest title in the world gratefully drawled, slowly arching onto all fours.

– Listen, – lighting a cigarette he paused again, – do you by any chance want to taste my cum? Have dinner at the same time, – Oleg joked, hinting to his companion at a new trial.

– You want me to suck you off? – naively, though in a servile manner, Vika tried to anticipate the desire of the one to whom her holes practically belonged at the moment.

– Well, you're a fool, – Vika's desired tormentor disappointed her. – And who did I spill the fresh one for? – he pointed a finger at the clot of white fluid. – You'll go and lick it up now. Get to work, bitch! – having pointed, he slapped her ass loudly.

Oleg liked to continuously humiliate Vika. He got fierce sexual excitement from it: both from his own feeling of absolute power and the unquestioning submission of his subordinate. It particularly pleased his eye to see how she now playfully, wiggling her bare ass, got off the sofa right onto the bare ground. Here her knees touched the ground. And here she, arching her back like a wild cat, stuck out her tongue and, pursing her lips, lowered her head and pressed her lips to the nectar emitted from the horn of plenty… Now Vika's tongue meticulously licks up every drop and every centimeter of soil that was honored to be watered by Oleg… Her lips suck into the depths of her organism the largest particles of this divine gift…

– I licked up your sperm, – Vika reported, having finished consuming the salty contents from the floor. – But now, when you want a blowjob from me, you'll still have to clean my mouth with something…

– I'll figure out what to do without you, whore, – Oleg cut her off. – Don't get smart… Rest for now… Get on your knees in front of me, let's chat a bit.

The obedient Vika deigned to obey and, lifting her attractive body from the floor, stood as required, placing her smooth little knees right on the damp ground in front of the widely spread legs of Oleg, sitting like a true king. Her hands, by developed reflex, were placed behind her back.

– Your next two fuckers will arrive in 15 minutes. In that time, I need to get you into proper shape.

Gathering plenty of saliva in his mouth, he loudly spat a foul, smoking-tainted and infrequently cleaned-teeth gob right into Vika's face. The mascara, so carefully applied by her to her lashes in the bathroom, smeared across her eyelid and cheek.

– As you wish. You know better than your slut how she should look, – Vika held firm, almost coming from such virtue. Being utterly degraded was her true purpose.

– You note correctly, sucker, – Viktoria's fate manager praises her. – You know… I prefer you naked. I love completely naked women… What do you need these rags for? Dresses, panties, even put on sneakers… fucking fashionista, – he complained about the young woman's perverse nature. – But… even despite your bad taste… I'd like to strip you of your clothes in a special way… Open your mouth.

Vika obeyed Oleg's words: she opened her mouth wide and stuck out her tongue.

– That's better, – the ruler said, bringing his hand with the cigarette to Vika's face. – You're not just a working sperm receptacle for us, but also an excellent ashtray! – he praised her for her useful multifunctionality, simultaneously flicking ash from the cigarette right into Vika's mouth. – You'll swallow everything only when I say.

Oleg decided to smoke a bit, simultaneously using Vika in another of her roles.

– Yes, this dress on you is completely unbecoming of your whorish face… – noted Oleg, lighting up. – But, fortunately, it can be made much more presentable… in keeping with your whorish nature, – finishing the second phrase, he again flicked part of the burnt-down cigarette into the girl's obligingly open mouth.

He took the knife out of his windbreaker pocket again and brought it to Vika's dress. The slightly pressed blade slowly moved along the fabric, leaving a barely noticeable linear trace.

– I'll make a couple of cuts on it… – Oleg lit up and routinely flicked ash onto the tongue of his personal prostitute. – The show "Fashion Verdict" is starting, – with these words the man threw the smoldering cigarette butt into Vika's mouth. Into it, he also accurately spat accumulated phlegm. – Permission to swallow, sucker.

The contents of her mouth, leaving its black mark on her tongue, were directed by Vika straight into her own stomach… She coped with the task of not only seeming but being a worthy ashtray "excellently."

Oleg, taking the fabric of his slut's dress with the fingers of one hand and using the knife with the other, began to give the girl the desired makeover. First, he cut off the part of the fabric covering her pussy. Now this now useless little piece lay right at Vika's feet…

– Already better, – the newly-minted fashion designer smirked, – at least your cunt is properly visible. But that's still not enough for now.

– Even better! One last detail remains… Turn your back to me, bitch.

Vika turned around right on her knees. The last detail was trimming around the ass area… Now her firm buttocks also became visible public property.

– Come on, stand up. Turn around, – Oleg commanded