Hazel's Perspective:
Chapter 4.1: Fear
I lay crying for a good five minutes or so. Now that my orgasm had passed, I started to process what I'd been told. Despite being a virgin who'd only given a couple handjobs, I was now a prostitute against my will and was giving blowjobs to what felt like the whole town.
The mental impact of having your first blowjob-nay, first fifteen or twenty blowjobs be to complete strangers and swallowing all that cum can't even be explained. I felt used up, like a dirty fleshlight, like I belonged in the trash. No self respecting girl would do this. My mouth permanently tasted of bitter cum. When I thought about all the cum going down my throat I nearly vomited.
Penises are gross. I don't even really like the idea of sex all that much yet, which is why I haven't gone very far with guys. Dicks are smelly and gross and I didn't like touching them so strangers twice my age having their erect dicks down my throat was making me go insane, seriously.
Of course the nipple clamps on me as I assumed that's what they were still hurt like you wouldn't believe at this point. They were alternating between being numb and then sharpy painful when I was shook, when orgasming or getting deepthroated. When my boobs were getting fondled the nipple play hurt like hell, but I'm not sure how much of that was from the nipple clamps or how harsh whoever it was being. He was pinching my nipples like they were hard putty he needed to soften and twisting them hard as fuck. He also liked to stretch my nipples out and play with the tips, he did that a ton while also squeezing my boobs way too hard. My boobs were still sore from that, but my nipples were something else entirely, they felt bruised and like they had lava poured on them.
And then there was the fact that I had been forced to orgasm 4 times while here which I feel is some kind of psychological torture. I mean, I hate being in here more than literally anything else in the world and would seriously consider giving a finger to get out just a few hours early. To force me to orgasm here, in this revolting sex dungeon with cum residue still in my mouth, well it made me feel like my body wasn't mine, it was others' to play with, and I felt like a filthy whore for even responding to the touch let alone orgasming from it. It truly made me feel like on some level I deserved this.
The other thing was that as I said, I wasn't really a sexual person so I didn't really masturbate. I'd had like two or three orgasms in my life before being brought here, honestly it was still a new experience. A new experience I was now associating with this place, honestly. I had never had multi-orgasms before like I did on the vibrator, and I never had an orgasm even a quarter as good as the last one when the gas station guy was playing with my pussy.
That was the other violation I was struggling to get past. I had never shown a guy my pussy. I'm so shy at my gyno my doctor talks to me in a sing song voice. Meanwhile the guy who literally put me here had not only seen my private parts, but touched them and even felt inside my vagina. I don't know what words to use to describe how violating that feels if you're not a girl. If you're a guy imagine some stranger fiddling around with your dick hole, I guess.
The way he touched me made me cum so hard my world shook though. I hated him for that almost as much as I hated him for putting me here.
But not quite. The part about Eric made me hate him more than anything on this planet. Eric had hovered around me a whole semester and I don't like guys like that who are all corny and cringy so I did kind of use him for homework. But I rejected him at the end of the semester for a reason, he's revolting to me, I wouldn't kiss him let alone... what did he say... lose his virginity?
Upon remembering that I flew into an insane panic, thrashing as hard as I could to try to break free but of course nothing had changed and I was still stuck. I was going to be forced to blow the shortest, awkwardest nerd in school. I fell into sobs. I can't handle this. I'd rather die. Anyone but him. He's not even a 1/10 to me, he's not even on the scale.
And I was going to have to see him at school, I thought. I couldn't fathom the torture I was in. I cried for some time.
Chapter 4.2: He's Here
I heard a familiar shuffling sound at my side and my nipple clamps were removed again. I yelped out in great relief but it was short lived as a fair of hands started groping and fondling my boobs again. I whimpered from the soreness and also the fact that I could tell it was a slightly smaller pair of hands meaning some new stranger was rubbing his palms all over my breasts.
He too engaged in a lot of nipple play, which literally just felt like my nipples were scalding. They were so sensitive from abuse that light touch felt like burning, so the rough shaking and squeezing of my boobs and nipple twisting, pulling and pinching literally made me delirious from pain.
When I could stay alert from the pain it also made me feel like a literal toy on a shelf to be played with when men wanted to. Not once in this entire process was I asked for consent. I wouldn't have given it to any of this. I don't think people can properly understand how objectifying this whole process was. It really did have an affect on your mind that you're not so much a person as a fucktoy or worthless whore with feelings. With every passing minute I spent getting facefucked or fondled my self esteem plummeted and I continued to see my body as public property, especially since I orgasmed here multiple times and constantly was getting very, very wet. It was like my sexual pleasure was funny or something, so I was made to feel sexual pleasure whenever someone wanted a laugh even if I desperately didn't want it.
