Carly Vs Alvin And The Boys Pt 01

Authors Note:

This work contains seems of non-consent, dubious consent, sexism and misogyny. These are things that should only ever exist in a work of fantasy or erotica.

The writer of this work fully believes in the sacredness of consent between partners and in gender equality.

Round One

I'm Carly Reeves and I have been told to write this confession by Alvin. I'm a slut. An utter and total whore to be take and used. Alvin told me to write this and humiliate myself, and as I do it I can feel myself becoming horny again. This confession will serve as an instruction manual to any man who finds me on how to use me totally and utterly. It's important for this confession that it be made clear that I think of myself as a feminist, and an independent woman. That is a vital part of my humiliation, and others enjoyment.

Alvin laid the trap for me, put down the gauntlet that led to my ultimate self-destruction and acceptance. He wants me to make it clear that a part of me knew the truth and that I entered into his deal willingly, secretly hoping for the worst.

He's right of course, the first time I was shown my real nature I was just turning twenty on a solo vacation I took to a resort in Floridia. My social media career was just beginning to gain traction: SexyFeministYogi. At the time I had just finished checking into the hotel. I was wearing a mid-riff revealing tank top, a pair of small and tight running shorts and Birkenstock sandals. It highlighted my long track and field toned legs. My dirty blonde hair was tied into long French braids. As I was wrapping up and picking up my bag, I heard two middle aged men talking loudly about me:

"Oh man, is that chick wearing a bra?"

"Nope, perky little tits too, see the air conditioning is making them nipples hard, that's how you know she's a little slut."

I was stunned and incensed! They were talking about me! Objectifying me with in ear shot. I walked away but I made up my mind to give them a piece of my mind the next time I saw either one of them. I mean, it's the modern era! How dare they! My whole brand on the socials was how women had the right to wear as much or as little as they wanted and it in no way determined the type of woman they were. I was close to graduating from the Ivy league with honors, I was too smart and strong to let them get away with it. I had put my bags in my room and decided to go get a boba from the little café in the lobby. The elevator had only gone down one floor when the door opened on the 23rd floor.

It was one of them, he was wearing a black t-shirt with garish print colors declaring him a NASCAR fan, a pair of baggy tan cargo shorts that went down to his knees and a pair of vans. He was tanned and had a scraggly beard. He wasn't gym strong, but he was bulky. He stepped into the elevator and looked right at me and then his eyes traveled to my breasts.

I looked down and saw that my nipples were still erect. The door closed as I gasped at what was happening.

"You can't look at me like I'm a piece of meat," I told him, placing my hands on my hips.

He hit the "stop elevator button" and then took a step towards me. "When your showing off your nipples like that your opinion is invalid." I opened my mouth to speak and that was when he put his right hand on my cheek and shoved his thumb in my mouth, forcing me against the back of the elevator. My own hands gripped his right arm and tried to pull his arm away, but they didn't seem to have any strength.

"MMM mmm mmm" I protested, my tongue rubbing against his rough thumb.

He laughed and then with his other hand he flicked first my left nipple and then my right. It stung and I felt both aroused and humiliated. But worse, a part of me, the physical part of me was aroused. "Suck on my thumb to say your sorry, or I'll do it again," he told me. I glared back with my eyes in defiance. Flick and then flick again. My eyes became huge and this time I moaned, and danced side to side on my tip toes. "Oh, let me guess, you're a straight student at one of those fancy colleges," he said before his fingers went: flick and flick again.

"MMYYMMMYY" was my sound of affirmative.

Flick and flick again. I thrashed, but not in a way trying and fight him off. One of my Birkenstocks flew off. I began sucking on his thumb. "Oh, so your sorry?"

"mmhmm mhmm" I sounded in humiliated agreement.

He reached behind him and restarted the elevator and then returned to my nipples. He teased and pinched, and I squirmed, and I sucked on his thumb. He did that until the 2nd floor and let go of me. The door opened and then with a triumphant grin on his face and gestured for me to go first. I stepped out into the lobby gingerly, moist, and utterly dominated.

I avoided him carefully the rest of my time there, because I knew...that if he had wanted to use me, I couldn't have stopped him. But it took on a surreal quality, a strange and hot vacation fluke. Something I certainly thought about, but I never figured anything like it would happen again.

Fast forward. Its grad school and I'm an RA in an undergraduate dorm. It's a good way to keep the cost of tuition down. I'm excited too. My brand the SexyFeministYogi had grown to a few thousand followers. I was still unpacking when Alvin first showed up. He looked the part of a little shit from top to bottom. Maybe that was why I thought I was safe at the time. The guy who had, well you know, with me in the elevator had been a brawny construction type. Alvin was just below average height, a bit overweight and had thin, patchy facial hair that did not compliment his out of style wire frame glasses. He skeeved me the moment he let himself in my room.

"Are you the new RA?" he asked.

"I am, my names Carly, and you are?"

"Alvin. Hmm you look, oh hey aren't you the SexyFeministYoga?"

I smiled, "I am," it didn't click over in my head why a boy like him would look at an account like mine.

"You do that no bra positivity thing."

"Uh yeah, bras aren't necessary automatically, so yeah, women should feel free not to wear them, like me."

"Sort of half ass isn't it," he said. "Like, the real deal would be no bra or panties. Though I guess with all the tiny stuff you wear, yeah... you wouldn't dare do that."

His words struck a nerve. He was in here basically telling me that my feminism wasn't enough, because I wore panties. I stared at him.

"Did I confuse you?" he said with a good deal of condescension. "Surely a woman like you doesn't need to wear panties, especially at college like this wear its basically 70 degrees every day." He made an exasperated gesture, as if he was losing patience with a stupid girl.

"I don't need to," I agreed.

"Really, I doubt it."

"Okay little guy, tell you what, I won't wear panties for this school year, maybe never again."

"Yeah, but you can't prove that it's not like you're going to flash me every day."

"You got that right," I answered angrily. I stepped over to my bags, "here" I snapped furiously pulling every panty I had out. "Take them, and you can come by and check to see if I have any in my room once a week, how's that sound?"

He smirked, light reflecting off his cheap glasses obscuring his beady little eyes. He reached out and took the panties. "Sure, if that's what you want to do. No underwear, no care, am I right? What if I catch you cheating? What's the consequence?"

I waved the question off dismissively. "Whatever you want."

"Okay, I'll slide the neck of an empty beer bottle in and out, in and out," he said suddenly with real malice and intensity suddenly. I looked over alarmed and saw that he had shifted my panties all into one hand and arm while he used the other to demonstrate the motion he planned. A slow, deliberate upward twisting motion that came down the same way. "In the middle of a party, while you try to not make any slut sounds."

I continued to stare dumb founded, an uncomfortable thrill racing through my body as he spoke to me that way.

"I'll go faster and then slower. Then maybe for a few seconds I'll stop so you have to anticipate the next movement. Eventually you'll moan, and others will come and see what that's about."

My mouth opened slightly, but no words came out.

He continued to demonstrate the motion and then stopped suddenly, and it was as if a spell had just ended. I shook my head, had he really just said all that?

"Well bye now, feel free to back out," he said.

Defiantly I said "nope."

He shrugged and pointed generally at my chest. "Is it cold in here all of a sudden?" Not waiting to hear a response he disappeared from view.

I looked down and realized that my nipples had gotten hard during his promise. A year without panties, that was fine, I could manage. I had gone without a bra for a few years and that hadn't been a problem. This little incel shit wasn't going to get the best of me.

It wasn't until a few moments later, while I was putting away all my short skirts and dresses that I realized he had just told me how to dress for a year. Then I thought about his description with the bottle.

Alvin had sort of won our first meeting.