\Chloe checked herself out in the mirror, tousling her wavy blonde hair, which had just the right amount of bounce. Her sundress draped lightly over her ample, shapely breasts, short enough to show off her gorgeous legs but just long enough to cover her taut, round ass. Chloe wondered if the hemline was just a bit too high, especially since she was wearing a thong and an ill-timed gust of wind would expose not just panties but her smooth, perfect buttocks. After consideration, Chloe concluded that it was probably fine, and that the light, flowery print kept her looking more innocent than slutty. She pulled on a pair of clean new Nikes, setting off her soft, feminine vibe with a hip and sporty touch.
Zoe poked her head into the room and chirped, "Let's get moving, Chloe Cumdump." Chloe hated when Zoe called her that, but since Zoe was her "big sister," in charge of acclimating her to her new sorority, she was reluctant to push back. Zoe was a beautiful, tough and flinty brunette. Though not voluptuous, her body was trim and well-sculpted. She radiated a sly intelligence that lent her arguments weight even when it was unearned. Contradicting her felt impossible. But while Chloe was sure Zoe didn't mean anything by her little zinger, some small part of Chloe insisted that she stick up for herself.
"Could you please not call me that?" ventured Chloe.
"Why not? You are a cumdump." laughed Zoe. Even though Chloe knew she ought to be used to Zoe jokingly calling her a cumdump, it still stung because it contained a kernel of truth. After all, Zoe had coined the nickname that time Chloe chugged a huge beer mug filled to the brim with fresh cum. In Chloe's defense, Zoe had ordered her to drink it or fail her sorority initiation. How was Chloe to know that the moment she finished swallowing the thick, salty aggregation of frat guy loads, Zoe would reveal that she had been joking? It was awkward, despite Zoe's efforts to lighten the moment by cracking jokes about what an incredible whore Chloe was, to everyone's uproarious laughter. That was when Zoe introduced the Chloe Cumdump nickname, which proved as sticky as, well, you know.
Unfortunately, Zoe's wit had failed to fully put the embarrassing incident behind them. Somehow, around Zoe, things just seemed to happen that put Chloe into awkward sexual situations. In fact, that was putting it mildly. The truth was that on multiple occasions, Chloe had somehow stumbled into rather extreme sexual predicaments that would make a debauched porn star blush, subjecting her perfect body to marathon gangbangs in which her humanity was utterly disregarded and she was treated as little more than a set of warm, wet holes for an endless parade of meaty cocks to pump full of hot seed until, countless hours later, she was inevitably discarded in a crumpled, quivering, barely-conscious heap, gasping for air as her gaping orifices overflowed with spunk. But Zoe needed to understand that even though things might have gotten out of hand a few times, Chloe didn't intend to make a habit of it.
"I'm not a cumdump," declared Chloe. "I have a boyfriend."
"Only 'cause he doesn't know you're a cumdump," snarked Zoe. Within that seemingly harmless wisecrack was another dose of unwelcome truth. After all, not only was Chloe's boyfriend still unaware she drank that liter of cum, he didn't even know that Chloe's stint working the sorority's kissing booth had turned into an all-day anything-goes fuckfest. In her defense, Chloe had initially balked at Zoe's proposal to turn the kissing booth into a fuck booth, but Zoe had reassured her that if all the customers wore condoms, it would technically be less intimate than kissing—after all, the skin of her patrons' penises would technically not even contact the inside of her vagina, and not a drop of their semen would spatter the walls of her uterus. Chloe liked the sound of that, and convinced herself that her boyfriend would agree... at least until their woefully inadequate supply of condoms ran out and Zoe took off to buy more, only to disappear for hours while a parade of impatient fuck-booth customers raw-dogged Chloe into a stupor.
By the time Zoe returned bearing Costco's biggest bulk-sized box of condoms ("SUPER-SLUT VALUE PACK," blared a surprisingly indiscreet starburst on the box), Chloe was so hopelessly cum-filled that Zoe figured she was no doubt knocked up by now anyway, and promptly left to return the condoms for a refund, ignoring Chloe's desperate cries for help. But Chloe couldn't blame Zoe for abandoning her; for one thing, the cock fucking her throat at the time had rendered her pleas indecipherable, and for another, the scrotum rhythmically smacking her in the eyes probably made her look pretty silly. More importantly, Zoe was understandably peeved that most of the men hadn't even paid, rendering their fundraiser a complete bust. Chloe knew that was her fault; by allowing herself to get so agitated by the succession of bare dicks gushing seed into her unprotected holes, she had failed to notice that her early customers had filled the donation jar with their used condoms, which probably confused the later patrons into thinking the whole thing was free. Considering that her boyfriend had disapproved of her working the kissing booth in the first place, Chloe worried that he might be especially disappointed if he ever heard she spent the whole day getting railed.
"Look, I'm just not sure he'd understand," said Chloe. "But I really do hate keeping secrets from him."
"Aw, loosen up. Actually, you gotta be pretty loose by now!" laughed Zoe. Chloe didn't appreciate the subtle dig at her vaginal slack. Her boyfriend had always praised her tight little pussy, and she had prided herself on reserving it exclusively for him. She had originally waxed it smooth for his benefit, not for the hordes of strangers who had lately been stretching it around their significantly-larger penises. Now she was in a state of constant worry that her boyfriend would notice her pussy was not as tight and snug as it once had been. Fortunately, it had thus far retained its youthful elasticity, recovering with remarkable speed from being pounded at great length by scores of unfamiliar cocks. Her ass, too, had returned to normal, and her sphincter retained more-or-less full functionality, despite her certainty on more than one occasion that it had been destroyed for good.
Realizing that her attempts to stand up for herself only prompted further insult, Chloe let the matter drop, confident that the day would bring no further problems. She and Zoe were going into the city to hang out and picnic at the park. Chloe looked forward to the warm sunshine and cool breeze, a wholesome fresh start for her sorority life. Best of all, she foresaw no way it could somehow devolve into her being used yet again as a pincushion for cocks.
The girls headed for the subway station. Chloe had hoped they'd be taking Zoe's car, but Zoe insisted that public transportation was the responsible, environmentally-friendly choice. Chloe tried to explain that she had never liked the subway. Perhaps it was irrational, but as a nubile young woman, being in an enclosed space surrounded by mostly male strangers made her feel vulnerable, even unsafe. But Zoe argued that Chloe wouldn't be alone -- they'd be riding the train together. Standing on the platform beside her friend, Chloe began to feel better about the whole thing... until the train pulled into the station and the doors parted to reveal the car was standing-room-only.
As the girls squeezed aboard, Chloe was hit by the funk of tightly packed male bodies and noticed there wasn't another female aboard the train. Just men of all shapes, sizes and colors. Men all around them, pressing up against them, eyeing them up and down, Chloe in particular. Her soft yellow sundress suddenly felt all too flimsy.
"I told you this was a bad idea," Chloe whispered to her friend. "This is way too crowded."
Zoe looked around. "I see the problem," she said, "All these big hard cocks take up too much room."
"What?!" cried Chloe, startled.
