Author's Note: This story is not only a follow-up to "None of this is Real," but also set in the same college, one year after the events of "We Rule the School." You don't have to read either to get the idea, but a little context might help. ;)
***
Before the party, Cindy Park was anxious. Her first two months of college had been an exhilarating blur of new experiences, liberally soaked in alcohol, of course. She had gotten in to Kappa Delta Alpha, the most sought after sorority on campus. Little did she know that the cost of getting in had been a bukkake show for the boys of Alpha Delta. Her own chapter president, Charlotte Baldwin, had sold her to the ADs to get plastered with cum, and even planned to reject her. Only the command of Alpha Delta's puppet master, Simon Chalfont, had gotten her admitted. All along, Cindy had believed it was just a prank: some artificial "cum" squirted from a squirt gun to trick her. To her, none of it was real.
As the party began, Cindy was excited. She was dressed to kill: a lavender sequined spaghetti strap top with designer skinny jeans and black strappy heels from Calvin Klein. None of the guys would notice her impeccable taste, though: most of them would be staring at her tits. While she wished she had longer legs, bigger boobs, rounder eyes, and a firmer tummy, Cindy nevertheless knew she looked hot. A lot of the girls were turning heads, but she thought she could detect a little more attention from the boys on her than on anyone else. A few even turned and whispered to each other when she walked by. Cindy assumed they were just commenting on how good she looked.
Once the drinks started to flow, she was in the mood. Her wavy hair, dyed caramel brown to make her stand out from other Asian girls, bounced up and down as she danced to the sounds of Daft Punk and Robin Thicke. Her body was tingling from the alcohol, and a sheen of sweat shone on her cleavage. Her smoky eyes surveyed the room during her brief respites from dancing, looking for the guy she was crazy over.
When her crush, Will, came over to talk to her, she was giddy. She felt so nervous talking to him, but the alcohol loosened her up and gave her confidence. Will was so handsome and strong--way better looking than most of his brothers--and ever since he had helped her through her hazing, Cindy had fantasized about him. Now he was there, talking to her, offering her a bottle of water, so she wouldn't get too drunk in a room full of horny frat boys. What a gentleman.
After Will led her up to his room, she was overwhelmed. On the one hand, she was thrilled that he had picked her out of all the girls at the party. She wanted him badly and hoped that tonight might be the start of a passionate fling--maybe even more. On the other hand, her sisters had filled her in on how to snag a boyfriend and not end up as a "pump and dump." The rules were simple: Sex only after dates. Handjobs were fine, but no blowjobs for first time hook-ups. Never more than one guy at a time.
As soon as she took her clothes off, she felt self-conscious. Most guys acted like they were over the moon for her. Will played it cool, unimpressed. She knew he had seen her before, of course, but she still couldn't shake the feeling like he wasn't totally into her. She gave him a shy smile that seemed to get his attention.
"I can't believe we're doing this," she said.
"I can," was his reply.
When Cindy took Will's cock into her mouth, she felt conflicted. She was breaking a rule: this wasn't a date, they had never gone out before, and yet she was blowing him. She wanted Will so bad, though, that she couldn't get hung up on the rules. Will lay back contentedly as she slid her lips up and down his engorged member. Her small hands pumped at the base of his shaft, until he pushed them away and used his hand on the back of her head to gag her on his thick pole. She started to choke, and pulled back with heavy ropes of thick saliva attached to Will's cock. She smiled weakly at him and took a few shallow breaths before he forced her beautiful face back into his crotch.
The moment Will thrust his meaty cock into her tight Asian pussy, Cindy felt panic. She hadn't intended to go this far, but it was hard to say "no" to a guy like Will. Now here she was, bent over into a triangle, her ass in the hair and her head buried into a pillow. In a flash, Will was above her, ruthlessly pounding her pussy, not giving her a chance to slowly adjust. Though he might not have known (or cared), his powerful body was causing her as much pain as pleasure. When he slapped her ass, it made her whole body shake. When he pressed her face with one hand into the pillow and called her his "little yellow cum bucket," she felt humiliated and embarrassed. Didn't he like her?
Only after she swallowed Will's cum, without any show of resistance or complaint, though, did Cindy understand. He looked down at her and told her she had a tight pussy, but that she'd need to do a better job blowing him if she wanted to see him again. He even told her he was disappointed, since most chink bitches were desperate to suck white cock and were natural pole smokers. For guys like Will, she was a collection of holes for his dick, a semen receptacle, a piece of Asian ass he could laugh about with his friends before boning some new slut. She saw herself in that moment as he saw her.
Most of all, she recognized the taste of semen, a taste now so familiar to her. As she walked home that night, she spotted Charlotte coming out of the back entrance of the frat house, looking upset and disheveled. Everything clicked in her mind: that whole night, at the end of rush, had been real, all too real. Those guys had really jerked off onto her face. She really had swallowed their disgusting cum, though it hadn't seemed that bad at the time. Worst of all, everyone had lied to her: Will, Charlotte, probably even her "big sister" Mindy. Charlotte! She had to be the one behind this. She was in charge of rush. Cindy didn't know what to do with this kind of knowledge.
At home, she lay on her bed, angry, humiliated, and on the verge of tears. She almost couldn't bear to look at the text she received as she lay there curled up, but she wanted to see who sent it. It was from Will.
"great time fucking u 2nite. sullys turn next time--stretch ur asshole 1st"
Cindy felt her whole body grow hot. Would he tell everyone? What would her sisters say? Hell, had this happened to all of them? She suddenly felt like joining Kappa Delta Alpha was the biggest mistake of her life. Will's message seemed more like a threat than a joke, too.
Cindy sunk her head into her hands. How was she going to get out of this?
*** THREE WEEKS EARLIER ***
Charlotte Baldwin was terrified as she approached the Alpha Delta house. She was walking in, voluntarily, knowing that a house full of frat guys were about to cum on her face. She felt like she was going to throw up. Every cell of her body wanted to turn and run away, and only a greater fear of what that would mean kept her on the path to her own degrading fate.
Greed, addiction, and a callous indifference to others had all contributed to bring her here. But most of all, Charlotte was delivering herself into the belly of the beast because of stubborn pride, a terror of being exposed to the sorority for what she had done and an even greater fear of facing punishment for it. She had sold Cindy to the Alpha Deltas, and they used deception about the hazing process to use her face for ejaculation target practice. Though Cindy never found out what happened, Charlotte still had to contend with Simon, who demanded she get the same treatment Cindy had, only this time without the blindfold.
Charlotte thought about what would happen that night, even though she would have preferred not to. If she was lucky, the fraternity brothers would be the only ones there: they could've sold tickets for the right to jizz on the ice queen to half the guys on campus. If she was lucky, that was all they would do: once she got there, who was to say they would not all try to fuck her too? If she was lucky, it would all be over tonight: nothing stopped them from filming the whole thing and using it to extract more and more from her.
She half-expected to find all the guys crowded around the door when she entered, but the entryway was empty, except for a Mexican guy she didn't recognize. She felt a sudden, knee-jerk fear: a minority was there! This night couldn't get much worse.
"You the bitch for the blowbang?" he asked.
Charlotte felt furious, to be talked down to by someone she saw as so inferior. What was he doing there anyway? She knew that, whatever horrors the Alpha Deltas were capable of, they would not go so far as to admit "the help" to their ranks.
"Don't talk to me like that," she snapped. "Where's Simon?"
"Hey, slow your roll, bitch. You don't want me pissed at you too," he said with a smirk.
The man eyed her up and down. Charlotte was tall, almost 6'0", with a lean, toned body. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a French twist, and she had the refined look of a classic WASP: slightly pinched nose, pronounced cheekbones highlighted by the faintest of blush, a graceful, delicate jaw line. She also had flawless C-cup tits, enhanced by the best plastic surgeon in Westport.
Charlotte glared at him, unsure of whether he was even supposed to be there.
"Well, c'mon then, I'll take you down to him."
She followed the brute down two stories, still without seeing a single AD brother. She entered an antechamber, where a pretty blonde girl was waiting on a sofa.
"That her, baby?" she asked.
Charlotte thought the girl looked faintly ridiculous. She was dressed like a cheap slut: one of those skimpy, sequined halter tops you'd find in a crappy mall store, in a hot pink color that only men would find attractive. Charlotte's tasteful couture and classic jewelry set her apart from street trash like this girl. The girl's skirt was too short, her heels too high, her hair too blonde, her tits too big, her lips too red: everything about the girl screamed to Charlotte that she was just another whore, for some Mexican no less.
"Yeah, she's here for them fuckers to bukkake," he said, running his fingers through the slut's silky blonde hair.
"She's pretty," the girl responded, "but she looks mean. Why's she going along with it?"
Charlotte was sick of being treated like she wasn't even there. Who was this bitch to talk about her like that?
"None of your business, bitch," she responded. "Why don't you go back to the whorehouse you came from and go fuck this ugly thing?"
The blonde slut didn't flinch.
"Oh, I will go home and fuck my boyfriend tonight. Meanwhile, you'll be glued to the floor with cum," she responded with cruel glee. "That's right--I know what 'bukkake' means."
The blood drained from Charlotte's face. Everyone knew.
"Still," the slut continued, her tone changing a bit, "you might want to go ahead and take those clothes off. If they see you in them, they're going to ruin them. They've seen plenty of tits--now they like making you go home in your clothes all covered in sperm. You're a bitch, but still, I'm only human."
The tacky, unpleasant couple didn't wait for her to respond; the girl stood up, holding onto the guy's hand, and they left the room. Charlotte never once caught their names, though that wasn't much of a concern.
No one came into the room for five minutes. Time passed slowly for Charlotte. She began to panic, again desperate to leave the house and never return. She knew what would await her: disgrace at Kappa Delt, probable arrest on drug charges, and then whatever other retribution that Simon would dream up.
Just then, the wall-mounted television started playing something. At first it was just four black and white squares, each with the letter C, in the opposite color of the box inside. Then the sound started to kick in, dull and low at first, but increasingly audible. It was the sound of sex, at first like one girl, but intensifying to a cacophony of guttural moans, high pitched screams, and what sounded like the laughter of a roomful of men. The squares exploded, one at a time, the "c" becoming a word:
