Flat Plane with a Hole

Two weeks after her brother died, Megan lay on her back, where the slide leveled off, and let Darius fuck her right there on the playground. It had taken a lot of drugs to quell Megan's mind, to acknowledge Heath's death. Darius was so coked up he could not cum, which suited Megan perfectly. Her back fit easily along the curvature of the slide. Darius towered above her, a seemingly anonymous silhouette. A glint of dawn's sunlight reflected from the top of the monkey bars. A jogger passed by, then a woman walking her dog.

"Harder!" Megan breathed. She hooked the backs of her knees around the slide's rim, so her thighs turned out. Her hipbones jutted up, two tiny peaks on each side of her shaved mons pubis. "Hurt me!" She braced herself for the pounding she craved, the amnestic mixture of pleasure and pain.

Darius gripped the edges and obligingly battered her into the slide. An indentation in the metal popped with every thrust. Each pop was like another chink in her emotions forcefully wrought. She ached to be fucked until she was as smooth as the slide--a flat plane with a hole.

After a prolonged pounding, Darius lost steam and flung the condom at the slide's foot. He pulled up his sweatpants and joined Kyle near the swings, leaving Megan to find her panties beneath the slide. When she stepped into her yoga pants, she noticed Kyle holding up his phone, and she realized he had been recording them. She grimaced and stuck out her tongue.

Kyle laughed and tucked his phone away. "Where do y'all wanna go now?"

"Do you have any more druuuugs?" Megan pulled up her pants and plopped onto a swing.

"Some weed." Darius grabbed her ankles and twirled her around, crossing the swing's chains and wrenching them tighter and tighter. "I can get more coke--or molly."

"Yes, please!" Megan gripped the chains and fought back a memory of her brother pushing her on the very same swing as she repeatedly shouted HIGHER! Darius let go of her legs, and the chains' tension spun her in dizzying circles. "I want to get so fucking high!" she squealed.

"We can't get high here," Kyle said.

Megan let her feet drag as the swing slowed down, but her world kept spinning, fueled by vertigo and weed. She wanted to go faster and higher, until she fell right off the edge. As her surroundings marginally stabilized, she squinted across the parking lot and saw a mom with two toddlers eyeing them suspiciously. The figures undulated in Megan's vision. "I guess we can go to my house. My mom's probably at work by now."

Darius gave Kyle a look. "It'll be weird there without Heath."

Megan opened her mouth--but before she could speak, Kyle stuck his hand down the front of her yoga pants, straight into her underwear. His hand cupped her pussy, and his middle finger slipped easily inside. "Weirder than fucking his little sister?"

Megan's knees buckled, as if the world dropped beneath her, and she braced herself against Kyle's chest as he rubbed her in and out. A jolt of dopamine released by her brain seized her entire body in a euphoric fog.

Darius stepped beside them to block the view of the concerned mother in the parking lot. "Heath would've killed us for this. He said you never even smoked weed."

"I didn't," she managed to say as she shamelessly humped Kyle's hand, on the cusp of an orgasm she hoped would obliterate her. But Kyle removed his hand from her panties before she reached the precipice.

Megan gave an exaggerated pout and reached for Kyle's dick, delighted to find it hard through the thin fabric of his sweatpants.

"Come on, that lady's gonna call the cops on us."

Sure enough, the woman had ushered her toddlers back into their car and now held a phone to her ear.

Megan grabbed the guys' hands, and they fled the park whooping with laughter, then walked briskly the few blocks to her house, where she unlocked the door and called, "Mom!"--just in case. In response, Chewbacca, her dog, barreled down the stairs. When the German shepherd reached the foyer, he bared his teeth and barked at Megan's guests.

Darius jumped behind Kyle. "Keep that fuckin' thing away from me!"

Megan crouched beside the dog and tried to sooth him. "These're my friends, Chewy."

She gave Chewbacca a sustained hug, but he wiggled free and growled menacingly, so she grabbed his collar and laboriously tugged him up the stairs. She pulled him past her room and paused at Heath's closed door. A tiny part of her brain peaked through the drug-induced fog. Just two weeks ago, if she had opened this door without knocking, Heath would have hurt her. She still had the scar from when he once threw an ashtray at her head. She pushed this memory down and pulled the door open. She dragged the dog inside and quickly stepped back to the hallway, slamming the door behind her. Chewbacca whined and yapped. She turned to find Kyle standing behind her. Without warning, he shoved her to her knees and stuffed his dick in her mouth.

Megan grabbed his ass and rammed the dick into her mouth until she nearly gagged. Kyle pulled her hair and fucked her face. She bobbed her head furiously along with his thrusts until, in less than a minute, he came straight down her throat.

Kyle pulled up his pants. "Darius is texting Beast." He disappeared down the stairs, leaving Megan on the hallway floor, gasping for air and horny beyond measure.

She remained on her knees for several minutes, gurgling the remnants of Kyle's cum, oblivious to Chewbacca's crying. She smelled weed downstairs. Kyle's assault was exactly what she needed to escape her anguish, but she needed more of it--much more. Beast would come with his minions, and she wanted to fuck them all for drugs until there was nothing left of her. She pulled herself to her feet and staggered to her room, where she flopped onto the bed. She thrust a hand into her panties and feverishly frigged herself until she came.

As she lay panting, she remembered a time her brother once caught her masturbating, how he told her only whores do that. Heath had been so fiercely protective of her, probably because their father was not around. Even after she turned eighteen, he forbade her from dating or even drinking alcohol. As a result, she ended up living a relatively sheltered life, despite having an older brother who hung out with a very rough crowd. She got up and changed into boy shorts and a bralette. In the toilet, she put on heavy, black eyeliner and made faces at herself in the mirror.

Smoke wafted up the stairs. As she descended, she heard new voices in the living room. Megan paused on the landing and listened, but her brain was too foggy to make out any of their words. A man who she presumed was Beast, the clique's main drug dealer, sat in the recliner facing the stairs. She never met him before, but she knew he was likely the person who sold the fentanyl-laced heroin that killed her brother. The man was older and square jawed. Two of Beast's underlings--guys Megan knew casually through her brother--sat with Darius and Kyle on the sectional sofa. When Beast noticed her, his face lit up in a broad smile that stretched from ear to ear. All the other heads turned to her at once. She slithered down the remaining steps and dropped to her knees in front of the coffee table, where someone had laid out a smorgasbord of cocaine.

She looked to Beast, who nodded. She crouched over the table and snorted a line. The cocaine mixed with Kyle's cum left an alkaloid taste in the back of her throat.

When she raised her head, Beast held up a white pill between his thumb and forefinger. "Here, take this, darling. It'll make you feel good."

Megan crawled on her hands and knees to the recliner. She sucked the pill and Beast's fingers into her mouth, then swallowed the pill. The room erupted in laughter that sounded unreal, like a sitcom. When Beast removed his fingers, Megan tried to focus on the faces around her, but the room spun too quickly. She was relieved when Beast grabbed her waist and pulled her onto his lab.

"You are eighteen, right?" Beast asked.

Megan nodded, and someone passed her a joint. She took a hit and leaned back against Beast's chest. She hooked a leg over the recliner's arm to keep the room steady. As the cocaine took effect, her focus sharpened a little and she saw for the first time how all the guys looked at her body, like wolves coveting a plump rabbit. Kyle held up his phone, recording her. She sensed the moisture exposing the contours of her labia through her boy shorts, the outline of her nipples visible through the thin fabric of her bralette. As she became conscious of her body and its effects, Beast's hands began to wander, one on her bare thigh, the other slipping beneath her bralette. He rubbed her little tits and then lifted the fabric to expose her nipples as the wolves licked their chops.

Megan could barely hold her head straight. She purred and slid farther down into Beast's lap. "Guys, I think I'm in big trouble."

"Good trouble," someone said.

Everyone laughed. Again, it sounded faraway, like a laugh-track.

Beast peeled off her top. "Kyle said you're a good little dick-sucker. Why don't you show the rest of us?"

Megan oozed from Beast's lap onto the floor. He remained seated but undid his jeans, and out popped a majestically hard dick. She sank her lips around it just as two hands behind her clutched the waist of her boy shorts and pulled them down to her knees.

She must have blacked out, because the next thing she knew she was in her bed again, flat on her back, someone thrashing between her legs. She tasted a new film of cum in her mouth, and her pussy was so sopping wet she barely felt the dick sliding in and out. The man pumped into her two more times and came with a satisfied grunt. When he climbed away, she saw all the guys from the living room, plus two others she did not recognize. Kyle held his phone near her face. She stuck out her tongue, mugging for the camera, as one of the new guys, his pants around his ankles, covered his dick with a plastic produce bag and scooted between her legs. He slipped it inside her and crushed her with his weight.

At first, the makeshift condom felt uncomfortable inside her pussy, like getting fucked with a plastic hairbrush, but she was so wet and doped up she liked it. She felt numb to all pain, but every pleasure receptor in her body felt electrified. From her toes to her hair follicles, she tingled with a prolonged euphoria that intensified with each thrust of the dick inside her. "Fuck me hard," she breathed into the man's ear.

As soon as the words left her lips, Chewbacca snarled at the foot of the bed, and the guy on top of her shouted, "What the fuck!" The man leapt off her.

"Who let that fuckin' thing out?" Darius shouted.

"I was looking for more condoms," someone replied.

Megan gazed between her legs, beyond where the produce bag remained wedged inside her cunt. She tugged the bag free and found her pussy saturated with cum. She tossed the plastic bag beside the bed and watched them wrestle with Chewbacca, who had escaped from Heath's room and bitten the one guy's ankle as he was fucking her. They looked ridiculous--five or six grown men running in circles in her tiny bedroom, all trying to contain one measly dog. It reminded her of a cartoon, and she burst out laughing. She wondered which of the guys had fucked her already and who would be next.

Then, someone grabbed her ankles and forcefully twisted her body, so she lay flat on her stomach. They tossed Chewbacca onto her back. The dog fought but was outnumbered. Its claws scratched into Megan's thighs and her lower back.

"Wait, no!" She tried to turn around, but the guys held her down.

Then, to their uproarious laughter, they forced Chewbacca's paws onto her shoulders and manhandled the dog into pretending to fuck her. At first, Megan squirmed and protested, but eventually she gave up, because she knew they were just joking. Besides, Chewbacca's dick, assuming it was even erect, was nowhere close to entering her. When she saw Kyle recording her, she hiked her ass backwards, pantomimed an orgasm face, and barked like a dog.

"She likes it!" someone said.

Megan wondered if this was why Heath had been so protective of her, the prospect of all his friends turning her into a little whore. The guys soon got bored with Chewbacca and carried him, whimpering, back to Heath's room. She kept her ass in the air as they returned and crowded around the bed. Her entire life, she thought, her brother had instilled in her such fear--fear that every boy was a rapist, fear that any interest in sex or drugs on her part made her a horrible person. She loved Heath, but now he was dead, no longer around to protect her, and she needed to let go of the fear. Someone upended an entire bottle of vegetable oil onto her ass, and the shock of coolness made her squeal. Her mouth agape, she craned her neck around in the instant that Beast plunged his dick straight into her asshole.

"Oof!" she cried.

Beast held her hips and pressed his dick inside her as far as it would go. "Damn, she's tight!"

Megan felt a stab of pain, but then just a highly intense pressure, like it feels to take a good shit. She gritted her teeth. The concentrated tension of being skewered in the ass gripped her entire body, and she liked it--a lot. Beast slid his dick out a little, and she let out a loud moan. She looked pleadingly at the wolves around her. They laughed and took videos. Some of them held their dicks in their hands. When Beast shoved his dick back into her ass, she came hard, burying her face in the sheets as the backs of her eyelids exploded in euphoric colors. Beast pumped into her exactly three more times and then came in her asshole.

Another guy took his place. He lasted about a dozen strokes before adding his cum to Beast's--and so it went. One after the other, Megan took them all in the ass until they pounded her into a cathartic stupor, a flat plane with a hole, just like she craved--for in the aftermath she begrudgingly came to accept Heath's death. After the wolves and bugaboos did their worst and all the drugs ran their course, although she could not walk for two days, she again looked in the mirror and imagined for the first time a life without her brother's domineering presence--a life free of fear.