She snorted more poppers and time slipped into another haze, aided now too by occasional sips of tequila and even a bump of cocaine presented to her on the head of an engorged cock. Anything to keep her going. Twenty more cocks now since the phone call? Thirty? She didn't know. She only knew that the number didn't even matter anymore. Surely any consequence that could possibly be afflicted on her body was already there. Pregnancy, disease. What difference did 30 bare dicks inside her make versus 60, or 100, or whatever the fuck number she would end at before this night was over?
They fucked her like a ragdoll, tossing her this way and that, pushing and stretching her body to the limits of physicality. She laid on her back atop some black Adonis with a cock thick as a Coke can and twice as long, his dick buried to the hilt in her rectum, while he gripped her under her knees and held her legs spread open as wide as they could go, showcasing for the room her pussy raw and wet and parted slightly above his python in her ass. Through the slight gape of her cunt you could see where the cock in her ass distended the inner wall of her vagina, making it bulge out toward the opening. Her cunt looked so empty in contrast to the stuffed asshole, begging for a double penetration which was soon provided. Any way someone wanted her they could have her. Soon they were trying double pussy penetration, Melody on all fours huffing and drawing breath in ragged, short bursts as a man lying beneath her and one kneeling behind her both strained to get their cocks inside the single, strained rim of her pussy hole. At this feat, Melody felt panic again for the first time in a couple hours. She thought surely her pussy would rip before these brutes accomplished their thoughtless goal. She was wrong, however, and suddenly with a pop the wet lower frenulum of her pussy yielded and the two cocks were in her, pumping away carelessly, tightly hugged to one another by the restriction of her single hole. Her vaginal opening seemed to have just permanently stretched to accommodate this type of violation, for three other pairs of men followed in suit one after the other with much greater ease than the first pair had had.
More cocks, more cum. She had learned to enjoy the taste of it, perhaps as a survival mechanism, or perhaps just because of the complete suppression of her disgust reflex that her shocking level of horniness brought. She found herself back in the throes of it now, riding the high of both the drugs and the natural high that this insane situation clouded her brain with. She stuck her tongue out eagerly as hot, bitter loads of cum landed on it again and again, gently rubbing her tongue against the roof of her mouth, pushing it in and out against her top lip, coating the surface of her tongue in the cum, making a filthy show of it, seemingly determined to demonstrate what a nasty whore she was after all.
She was caught in the cycle, fluctuating from one extreme to the other. From abject horror and humiliation to pure lust and back, within the course of an hour. But the periods of pure shame were shortening and becoming more rare. The lust was taking over. She would sometimes see herself on the screen and it would seem like an out of body experience. She would want the nasty slut on the screen to get gangfucked and sullied and ruined as much as any of the men present. The humiliation caused arousal, which caused further humiliation that such a thing would arouse her, and this built up in a vicious, self-fueling circle that now had her visibly engorged clit humming like a live wire - like a raw, exposed nerve of pure pleasure. Every time someone even bumped into it an electric orgasm ripped through her body, radiating out in warm, flashing pulses of tingles from her clit.
By the time she looked up and noticed that a group of four of her male coworkers, men she was being polite and curt and professional with as recently as earlier that afternoon, were now standing next in line, she was so worked up that this fresh burst of humiliation alone suddenly brought her to a quivering, shriek-moaning orgasm before them.
*
Brian had met up with three of his coworkers toward the back of the crowd, greeting them with a shrug and a carefully planned laugh of feigned bewilderment. He was pleased to see that they were already drunk. It was two young guys, Trey and Don, who were near his age, but also their 50 something year old supervisor, Rick. Rick was always professional but you could tell there was a wild streak suppressed somewhere in him. Well, it was certainly being revealed now.
They watched together for the 45 minutes or so as they waited their turn, watching their demure, proper young coworker get fucked 40 ways to Sunday in front of them. They shared laughing sentiments that if they'd had any idea she was such a wild flooze, they would have had some more fun with her in the past.
"She was a nice enough girl, but almost...too proper. The kind of girl that would call HR if you flirted with her too hard, you know? Guess I was fucking wrong. Damn, look at her take those dicks. This'll be a great team-building experience for us, boys. Not so much for her, I guess. Don't think she can stay employed with us after this, unfortunately, although I'd love it if she could."
They watched as man after man took her, most bareback and just fucking wrecklessly through the anonymous cum of other men. Some however wore condoms, but when they came they would always then remove them and squeeze the contents out into Melody's open, waiting mouth or into her pussy itself, as if to emphasize that the condom was for their protection, not hers.
Brian's turn came first of his group. When Melody had looked up and seen the four of them standing there, waiting to fuck her next, she had made a strange moaning sound that was almost half a sob, and had begun ejecting a stream of squirt from her pussy all over the bed. She then collapsed backward onto her back, her legs still spread eagle for them. Then fuck me too, you bastards, he imagined her thinking.
He dropped his pants and lay between those long legs, the pale, lithe thighs plastered in sweat and cum. What a scene of ruin, especially when contrasted with the mental image of her just earlier that same day at work, proper and safe and self-respecting. He had to say though, he thought the look she had on the other end of 75 dicks fit her well.
As he slid easily into her warm, wet cunt, still inviting and hospitable after all this, he was briefly amazed at the incredibly intimate feeling of fucking a girl bareback. He'd done it before, but every time he was newly astounded upon that first penetration, as if he'd forgotten how incredible it felt, how personal. Feeling the hot, wet folds of her pussy parting with a little resistance to make room for your cock. It was hard to wrap his head around the fact that 75 plus other men had just felt this exact thing with her, that plenty more would follow, their dicks exactly where his was, rubbing their swollen cock heads against the same internal folds of her love canal that had been so private, so exclusive, only the day before. So opposite now. Such a thing to make her give up. They were on the other side of an impassable gulf now, one that could never be crossed back over. She was now this forever whore. She could never take these dicks back, nor the ones that would follow. He had made that choice for her, and she was none the wiser.
She had wrapped her legs around him, her feet locked together behind his ass, pulling him deeper into her as he thrust. She put a hand behind his head, her fingers in his hair, and looked deep into his eyes, mainlining on the shame, the position oddly intimate, as if they were alone in this room, actually making love somewhere private after a date like a normal couple. Perhaps, in another life. As if reading his thoughts, she whispered "I'm just a whore," still looking deep into his eyes, maintaining the most intense eye contact of either of their lives.
He wouldn't last. Their faces mere inches away from one another's, oceans of unreadable thoughts and looks and suggestions crossing between those gazes, her unaware of his role in her degradation. The shame and lust and release and defeat in her eyes. When he came, he suddenly kissed her, deeply, in a sudden urge to feel as much of her as possible at once. He thrust his pelvis so that he was as deep in her as possible when he unloaded, the very tip of his cock actually making contact with her cervix, suddenly hoping in that moment that he would be the one whose seed managed to take hold in her womb that night. Why not? A final level of conquest.
He watched his coworkers take her after him, one by one adding to her baptism of shame. Shame and degraded fulfillment, a forcing of her most private, extreme fantasies. Still she did not comprehend why or how this was happening to her, why or how someone could have known her innermost desires, to be shamed and degraded and objectified and ruined. And did not the fact of her opposition to the actual fulfillment of those desires actually intensify the power of their taking place? For to have the fantasy and actually choose to enact it upon oneself voluntarily would lead to a less intense sense of violation and shame, which was in the end the goal. So her non-consent to this exploitation and assault was in fact the key component of its effectiveness, the kernel at the root of the constant hum in her clit that radiated out through her body and kept her almost constantly at the edge of an orgasm and now and then a more enthusiastic participant in her own degradation.
Melody thought these things, but in fewer words, lost in the whirlwind of her raging thoughts of lust and fleeting rationality. When her boss' turn came to fuck her he took her missionary style, but standing next to the bed where she lay, with her pussy right up on the edge of it. He grabbed her around the ankles and lifted her feet up toward his face, then popped two of her toes in his mouth as he went to town bareback in her soaked cunt.
"I've always loved these feet," he told her, briefly freeing his lips. "I only have a partial foot fetish, anyway. Only the shapeliest do anything for me, and yours are perfect." The tone and ease with which he spoke seemed to indicate that he was versed in the art of degrading women. "I'd always love it when you indulged and wore those peep-toe pumps. I never wanted to even suggest that you wear heels more often, for fear of HR. But look at us now."
He sucked each toe in succession, giving himself time with each one, even tonguing and sucking the webbing and spacing between each one, really taking his leisure and the fullness of indulgence with both that and her pussy. The sensation was strange, slightly ticklish, but Melody found herself freshly thrilled by it. The simultaneous attention, derisiveness, and genuine enthusiasm he seemed to be showing for even this part of her body excited her. Every inch of her body reduced to meat for the disposable pleasure of every man.
As he built to a climax he began fucking her harder, with greater urgency. He removed her feet from his mouth and spread her legs at the knees, now leaning across her torso and pressing his face in toward her ear, so that only she could hear him.
"Still coming in on Monday?" he whispered with a little laugh. "I'd love to just keep you under my desk from now on. But I don't think the higher-ups would allow it."
He was thrusting into her savagely now, the froth of her arousal actually splashing up onto his upper pelvis now with each ramming home of his cock.
"Yeah, I'd love to keep you down there all day, letting the boys use you as a little favor whenever they wanted. But you can't be on the corporate payroll now, sadly. Yeah, you'd better get used to this. The only career option left after this is going to be sucking dick for 12 hours a day in some Thai brothel. I always knew you were a secret little whore. Shame on you." His thrusts punctuated each word now. "Shame...on...you!"
With that he unloaded in her, his breath hot in her ear as she felt the warm crud spurting out of him, joining the vile tithe already tabernacled within her, being absorbed by the vulnerable internal flesh of her vaginal cavity. She felt waves of heat pulse through her body, reverberating from the thrill of the degradation and fear that his words gave her. He was right, and it horrified and exulted her. A whore for life.
He pulled out and then as one final insult presented his diminishing member to her face. "Suck your filth off of me, tramp."
She found herself doing it without question, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for her to be ordered about like some self-hating sex servant, her mouth sucking the sweat and vaginal juice and the semen of multiple men from his shaft, and then moving up even to lick the quim from his lower belly and suck it from his matted pubic hair.
"Open your mouth," he ordered her, and upon her acquiescence he spit full into her upturned mouth, globs of his spit landing right on her tongue. Like a chastised dog, she looked down, closed her mouth and swallowed it.
Daniel was beaming. "We should hire you!" he said to Rick. "That's how this flooze needs to be treated! Who's next? More than one, she can take it! She needs it!"
The next discernible period of time ran together for Melody, faded by the drugs and the alcohol that kept being supplied in a slow, steady drip, just enough to keep her rolling, but never enough to push her beyond consciousness. They wanted her to be cognizant of her defile. A spectacle of dicks, a spectacle of ways to destroy a woman. They had finally surrendered all pretense of restraint, the alcohol and drugs being freely passed around to all having broken any remaining vestige of it. Cameras in her face, at her asshole, once positioned to capture up close as load after load poured out of her, several men having elected to creampie her in succession. Hours and hours of footage of her being fucked in every way the most extreme pornstar had ever been fucked.
