Time passes...

From Create Your Own Story

Current revision as of 21:27, 13 December 2019

Over the next few hours, you're made use of.

You're used as a sex toy by any male who passes. While you certainly weren't a bottom before this night, you've now taken more cocks and loads than you would've thought possible. You think your total is around fifteen, but, considering your level of exhaustion, it's likely you've miscounted. By the time you think you can see sunlight streaming through a little window close to the ceiling, you're aching and sore all over. Cum drips down your thighs and your entire form is damp with sweat and exertion. You can barely stand at this point, as your legs keep shaking.

It's beginning to become clear why the hyena leader thought the party needed a public-use whore. Clearly, the bottoms at this party were unable to satisfy the needs of the many lustful youths around. Almost makes you wonder what in the world these college students are on...

You're startled awake, however, as you feel the stocks being undone. You're released from the stocks and allowed to wander the house a little while before dawn. You manage to steal a worn pair of shorts from the floor to cover your worn crotch and cum-dripping ass from the half-conscious denizens of the worn building. Just to walk through the ground floor, you have to delicately step over piles of passed-out partiers, many still clenching bottles. You can hear weak music from somewhere, but can't quite figure out how.

You push the front door open and step out onto the balcony. You're shocked to find, leaning against one of the wooden columns outside, the first conscious person you've seen all morning; and, of course, it's your tormentor, the hyena leader from last night. He's half-dressed. He lost his undershirt, but is still wearing that old letterman jacket, and his crotch is adorned only in a worn, yellowed jockstrap. He's gripping a bottle tightly in one hand and cruising his phone with the other. Even from several feet away, you can smell the alcohol coming off of him.

He turns around when he hears you approaching, and he immediately starts cackling again at the sight. "There's my favorite little whore. Quite the performance you put on last night." His eyes narrowed, and that smirk across his lips is far, far too smug. He raises his phone to let you see what he's looking at.

He has evidence. Pictures, videos, audio, everything. All of it stars you. You see the buttplug buried between your asscheeks, multiple men (including the hyena standing before you) fucking you from behind as you're tied in the stocks, a doberman spanking your ass repeatedly with one hardened paw. No wonder you're feeling so sore. Several photos star your face, too- with balls resting on your nose, cocks slapping against your cheeks, and countless facial cumshots.

Your heart sinks. Those photos can never get out. Your parents, your brother, your friends- they'd never look at you the same again. He notices your disparate expression, and starts laughing and cackling once more, tucking his phone away into his jacket. "You thought you were done after tonight? We've got you by the balls, slut. Disobey us once, and you'll be having an uncomfortable conversation with your family before you can blink. Disobey a second time, and you'll be a pornstar without even knowing it."

You freeze, simply staring at him. You don't have anything to say or do. You're locked in. And he knows it. The hyena stands up- swaying slightly, indicating he's probably still at least a little drunk- and steps towards you. The scents of booze and sweat wash over you again as he leans in close. "Now, I think I know what I'm going to have you do next..."

His thumb slips over the waistband of his jock, and he drops the worn undergarments fall to the deck floor. You bite your lip, look up at him, and nod.

END