Chapter 10
The professor becomes a gang whore
Anne felt so low she needed to curl up in a ball, and hide away from the world. A set of naughty sex games had been deeply imbedded into her mind, waiting to be triggered by certain phrases. Once a game had been triggered, she was compelled to play by its rules, acting out the naughty role.
The dire whore game had been inadvertently triggered by a bunch of drop outs, when she bumped into them in a mall. She hadn't even been aware that such a subculture existed, now she was playing to their tune; a macabre dance. They had taken her to their hideaway for a bit of fun, not knowing she was under the influence of the damnable game.
They didn't know she was a professor at the local university, only that she was behaving like a slutty whore. They were quiet, astonished at the nasty demonstration of her perverse skills, with a dildo. She had performed a disgusting, lewd act before them, and hoped they would leave it at that. If they didn't give her another order she would be free to go.
Phil pushed her panties into his pocket and smiled at her. "You want a real cock now," he told her. "Don't get up, crawl over here," he added, pointing to his crotch.
Anne groaned, knowing it was impossible to avoid the despicable act, and already felt the disgrace of it. Even if he knew she was a professor, this young guy would still take advantage. They would probably take greater pleasure in degrading her. Especially this little prick, as he was the malevolent one in their pathetic gang.
"Get to work whore," he ordered.
"Yes, sir, with pleasure," she smiled up at him. It was all the more infuriating when the program chose her words, adding to the hurt of being forced to perform for these young hooligans.
The naughty games were meant to be for her husband's pleasure, in the privacy of their bedroom. They had been naughty and fun, with strict rules as to what he could do, and couldn't do to her. There were no rules here, so the game kept on growing stronger, taking her over. It had all become so terribly out of control.
She looked up at him through hooded eyes, licking her lips, trying to look sexy for the despicable loser. The game had her acting out the role of an enthusiastic, depraved whore. The attractive woman was naked, so there was no need to try and be sexy, her luscious body was devastatingly arousing enough.
"It's so big and juicy," she exclaimed, and kissed the head of his cock, with wet slurping lips. Having to perform this vulgar entertainment for a stranger, before his friends, was humiliating. It was so much more shameful, pretending to enjoy it. At least his friends were watching silently, no longer making rude comments.
She managed to suck it all into her mouth, only having to nudge the back of her throat occasionally, as her head bobbed up and down. She looked up at him and cringed. The expression of contempt, on the leering face, was appalling. It defined her place in this gang, as just an object, on the end of a cock.
"I can't wait for you," Joe complained. After watching her fuck with a dildo, and sucking his friend's cock, Joe was desperate for relief. His rock-hard cock was aching for release. He grabbed Anne's hips, pulling her off the floor. Without the slightest consideration, he rammed his throbbing cock deep inside her cunt.
Anne groaned around the short, fat cock in her mouth. She felt the strong grip on her hips, knowing what some bastard was going to do to her. It was awful being unable to refuse him, and worse still, not knowing who was taking her so brutally.
She felt him ram in, without the slightest resistance. She groaned in anguish, on finding she had been so aroused, so open and ready; for anyone who wanted to take her. They had told her she was a whore, and a whore she was, unable to resist the rules of that damn program.
The contemptible, Phil, was holding off, making her work hard to make him cum. She felt his friend spurt into her. As programmed she had an orgasm. The small unsatisfactory orgasm was forced upon her. She wanted to bite the damn cock in her mouth, but it was impossible to do anything, besides being a compliant whore.
Another one of his gang took hold of her and slid in to a soaking wet hole. He shoved hard, pushing her head into Phil's lap, forcing the cock down her throat.
The familiar sign, of the program worming its way deep into her mind, was frightening. Using that awful word, cunt, in her thoughts, to describe her vagina meant it was taking over. No longer merely acting like a whore, she was beginning to think of herself as a whore.
At last Phil spurted into her mouth. The strings of salty pearls congealed in her mouth, making her gulp it down or choke. She enthusiastically sucked his balls dry, making a show of swallowing his sperm down her throat, into her belly.
"Mmmmm! Tasty cum, sir," she told the arrogant shit. She shamelessly licked her lips, as though finishing a rare delicacy.
"Go and lick my friends clean now, you dirty whore," he told her, with a derisive grin on his face.
On hands and knees, Anne crawled over to the two guys that had fucked her. It was obvious who they were, for the others had hard lumps in their jeans. She delved into their jeans and sucked them as ordered, tasting her sex juices on their cocks.
"Anyone else want a blow job?" Phil asked.
Ben had been the only one to stand up to Phil, protecting her somewhat, only now he sat silently, watching the disgusting performance. She had acted so enthusiastically, he decided she didn't need his protection. The others would soon come back under his leadership once they had been satisfied.
She padded, on hands and knees, to one after another of the gang. Sucking them dry was humiliating. The sucking up to them, like a professional whore, was devastating her self-worth.
Being so low, left her bereft of energy to fight the game program. She was losing the will to resist, as the rules of behavior burrowed ever deeper into her mind. If she didn't escape soon, the game rules would become dominant, defining who she was.
"Well! What now? You've had what you wanted, Phil. You better take her back to the mall," Ben told his friend.
"We should keep her. Make her our gang fuck," he argued.
Anne groaned in an agony of pain from hearing those words. The whimper might have sounded pleasurable, from anticipation of servicing them. The idea of being kept in a state of constant arousal, always ready for a bunch of losers to fuck, was abhorrent.
The others turned away from him, not wanting to get between the two dominant guys. Without their support Phil knew better than to push Ben, so gave in.
"OK! It was fun while it lasted," he shrugged. A big smile flashed across his face, quickly replaced by the usual leer.
***
The delivery truck needed to be returned before it was missed, but they weren't on their way back to mall. Anne was hardly conscious of where they were or where they were heading. She was recovering from the whore program, relieved to feel it slinking from her mind.
She sat in the van, with arms wrapped around her exposed body. She wore a skimpy blouse and micro miniskirt, without underwear. She had sucked and slurped those young delinquents' cum, straight from the end of their cocks. All that young, potent sperm was in her stomach, and she imagined her belly was full of it. The indignity of such a degrading performance left her feeling pathetic, and vulnerable.
"We're here," Phil announced.
Anne looked around wondering where 'here' was. It didn't really matter, she was ready to escape. The program left her feeling muzzy headed, but at least she was free of it.
"Wait!" Phil told her. He grabbed her arm. "You're just a whore, a good fucking whore, but just a cheap whore," he said, with a leer on his face. "You are my whore now, no need to share you with them," he told her.
'No! No! No!' Anne shrieked inside. She should have run for her life while she had the chance. The whore program was hurrying back to take over. She slumped in the seat, fearful of what he was going to do with her. It just couldn't get any worse than it already had. Being gang fucked by a bunch of dropouts was devastating, so what could he do to her, all by himself.
They walked into a shabby, downtrodden store, where Phil was greeted by a friend. "Hey Phil, what you got there, man?" Billy asked.
"A dirty little whore I picked up this afternoon. She needs some decoration, and you're just the man to fix her up," Phil laughed. They high-fived while sharing conspiratorial grins.
"Sit, right here," Billy told her.
Anne slunk down into an old battered, dentist chair, with a dreadful idea of what they were up to. The lurid illustrations, decorating the walls, shouted the message at a deafening volume.
They each took an ankle, fastening it with a leather belt to the chair, holding her legs apart. Her head was fastened to the head rest.
"Open wide," Billy quipped.
Anne had little choice but act out the role of a dirty whore, so being strapped to the chair was unnecessary. Perhaps the 'treatment' was going to be so hideous, they thought she would shrink from it, and try to escape.
"What do you want?" Billy asked his friend, rather than her.
Phil pulled up the blouse. "Nipple rings for a start," he announced.
Anne's face screwed up in agony, despite the program forcing her to act as his compliant whore. She didn't consider the pain; just the indignity of being pierced shook her. It was enough to push aside the rules of the game, for a moment or two.
