Melody's Open Invite Gangbang

Kevin prepared for his date night scheduled later that evening with Melody the way he usually did - by browsing through a few of the dozens upon dozens of webpages dedicated to documenting her body and sexual escapades in incredible detail, and to perpetuating her humiliation and exposure forever. He had a strong feeling that she had entered such a state of blissed-out denial of her whole situation that she wasn't even aware of the volume of content out there about her. She had pushed it all away as a means of coping with it, and had let herself imagine that the videos and pictures were a flash in the pan that would soon or had already subsided into obscure corners of the web. She couldn't be more wrong. If she just worked up the nerve to Google her real name again she would lose any sense of optimism. There were dedicated and growing fanbases centered around her and her story. Something about it fascinated people far more than the usual camgirl or pornstar would. No, there was something very special, very erotic and profane about Melody's disgraceful downfall, and untold numbers of people out there felt that way. Perusing all that material, all that discussion and the crude comments about his girlfriend was the hottest, most thrilling kind of foreplay imaginable. He couldn't wait to take her out to dinner that night, subtly glancing around the room, wondering if anyone present recognized and knew the truth about her. There was always a good chance that someone at any given place did.

And of course she had no idea he knew any of this. She thought her awful secret was safe.

The fact that Melody hadn't yet been treated to daily, uninvited dickings by complete strangers was just a product of momentary circumstances. He knew that the situation would soon turn against her, irreversibly, but this brief window of relative peace had allowed her to think she was safe, that no one recognized her.

He knew for a fact, though, that people did recognize her. At least from time to time. This was evident by the occasional posting by someone on one of the forums, posting a candid picture they'd secretly taken of her after spotting her in public somewhere. They'd tracked her, in a delayed manner, of course, across all of her various movements since fleeing Washington, trying to stay updated on what she looked like now, what name she was going by, and what she was up to. The obsession was real. And the stuff he saw on these forums was just from the die-hards. Surely a good handful of people who were casually aware of her saw her per day, and at least wondered in the back of their minds if it was her.

The reason no one had confronted her since being in Boston or full on taken her for an impromptu fucking was, he thought, for a few reasons. First: the name and appearance changes did take a little time to follow. And although her super dedicated fanbase was large enough, it was still pretty small compared to the size of the population of the earth, and the vast majority of those invested enough to actually seek her out and fuck her were nowhere near Boston. Second: most people probably are somewhat timid about it and not willing to actually confront her out of the blue like that even if they do recognize her and know about her open invitation. That takes a certain level of confidence, even still. But third, and most importantly: there was little precedent for it. Once a few people had taken the plunge and posted evidence, proving that she was good for it and the cops weren't going to intervene (and from his knowledge of the local PD, they definitely weren't), the floodgates would open. And he knew it was only a matter of time until that precedent got set. Things were stirring in those forums.

It was only a matter of time until it was widely shared that she was in Boston, but he hadn't seen it posted yet. The endless discussion and sharing of her pictures, her videos, digging up old photos from her Facebook, detailing fantasies of what they'd do to her if they found her or what they think other people should do to her. All this continued uninterrupted.

He picked Melody, or Garden, as he had to call her, up at 8 from her apartment. She was dressed cute, like she always was - a girly dress under a black peacoat, her legs covered in black leggings and tucked into some black pumps. Her dirty blonde hair fell in tousled waves, framing her delicate face, her lips painted red. The same delicate face that so many people had seen floating in the background of pictures above her spread pussy lips, or her puckered asshole. Had seen deepthroating countless cocks, or covered in a thick mass of cum. The disparity between all that and the cutesy, elegant image she wanted to project to the world was intoxicating to him. No matter how much she prettied herself up or tried to cover herself, she would always be that massively exploited, public knowledge whore.

He always thought about this while he was out with her. As they walked down the street in the brisk, early autumn air, heading toward a semi-fancy spot they frequented, he looked into her smiling face, her twinkling, adoring eyes, and gave her a kiss, imagining all the other cocks those lips had been wrapped around. How many more they would have to be wrapped around before the world was done with her.

He put his arm around her and glanced around at some of the other people on the street. Had any of them seen a hugely detailed picture of the inside of her vagina? Had any of them seen a video of her getting fisted, declaring to the camera that anyone who wanted her had permission to fuck her, with no preamble, for the rest of her life, even if she said no when they tried? The possibility was there, definitely.

He knew it was only a matter of time until someone did it. Only a matter of time until someone shoved her into one of these alleys late one night and took her up on that perpetually standing offer that she couldn't take back, try as she might. Or when they recognized her at a club. Or while she was drunk at a party - let her pass out on a bed with her legs spread and give her cunt to every guy present.

Only a matter of time, and the fucked up thing was that he relished it. He got excited every time he knew she would be walking somewhere alone at night, thinking this might be the time. He knew his presence obviously deterred would-be assailants. He wondered if she would even tell him if it happened, or try to hide the whole thing in an attempt to prevent the full story getting out. He relished the thought of it all coming back to haunt her, with no escape possible. Loved the idea of her being the town whore, that such a fate clashed so severely with her personality and even her chief desires. That shameful little firing of certain pathways deep in her brain, the part of her that wanted to be treated like meat, would be the one that dictated her ultimate fate in the end. It made it hotter that she obviously regretted it, or had been coerced into it, or whatever the real story was.

He realized that he had always loved the concept of the "village slut," or the girl with a reputation. He'd had a girlfriend back in high school, a real pretty girl with a nice demeanor, who everyone knew as a slut. He'd heard what everyone, including all his friends, said about her before they'd started dating. It was hot to him to know that everyone just thought of her as a fucktoy, and knew that she'd been with a lot of guys. He remembered a time when another girl had pulled her top off of her at a swim party, and how he had jerked off that night in confusion to the memory of all those people seeing his girlfriend's tits. Her brief little disgrace. He must have gotten the fetish from her.

But with Melody, the situation was magnified so many more times. His old girlfriend had maybe fucked 20 guys and everyone called her a slut back then. Melody had fucked at least 250, and maybe as many as 300, by the calculations of her fans online. There was a little uncertainty, but they knew it was at least 250. Plus all the different men's cum she had drank, men who hadn't wanted to actually make physical contact. And of course all the untold millions who had seen her nudity, had the most degrading footage of her saved to their harddrives. That knowledge alone was incredible to him. He'd sometimes jack off imagining how high her number of partners would eventually go. How many people around the world would see her disgrace, and in what new ways. She was not done producing content for them, oh no, not by a long shot. Even if she thought she was.

His fetish had achieved its perfect form in her, too, because it wasn't tainted by jealousy. He loved the idea of the slutty, used up girl, but he had always been conflicted by the possibility of the girl leaving him. After all, if she loved dick so much, she might just drop him when she found a better one. But with Melody, he knew this wouldn't happen. She wanted to escape it. She just couldn't help it. So the more shamed, exposed, used, and degraded she became, the more thrilling it was for him, with nothing tempering it. Her sluttiness and objectification was simply hot.

When they got to the restaurant he smiled at her in the dim lighting across the table. She looked so beautiful, classically beautiful. The flirty little smile on her face so adorable, the light playing off of her strong, high cheekbones. The strange thing about it all was that he really did feel quite strongly about her. Probably loved her, whatever that meant. But he relished her degradation. He couldn't help it. The fact that he was so close to her made all those profane scenes on the internet that much more erotic. All this humiliation happened to HER, his girlfriend, the girl he gets to fuck. It's different when you just read the story about someone you don't know.

He thought it was cute and funny that Melody tricked herself into thinking that she wasn't as widespread as she was. She thought she could walk down the street, securely wrapped up, covered from head to toe, but she might as well be walking down the street ass naked for all that was worth. He noticed the occasional lingering glances from passersby. The double takes. She was absolutely deluding herself if she thought she could hide herself. Every time he went out in public on a date with her like this, it was like automatic foreplay the whole time.

He couldn't wait to get home and fuck the dogshit out of her, thinking of all those videos, all the people in the world watching footage of her at that very moment, seeing her subjected to all those insane things. So many people taking whatever they wanted from her. Her complete lack of power over her own body, her own sexuality. Her reluctant but irresistible participation. He didn't know why it turned him on so much.

Sex was always incredible. He would always jack off before meeting up with her, because if he didn't he wouldn't be able to last two minutes, after a whole evening of filth running through his head. He loved fucking her bareback, feeling those used goods directly. Knowing how many other guys out there wanted to get this same thing from her, instead appeasing themselves with hours of footage of her being fucked brutally, or inspecting these very same holes in those perfectly revealing documentation pictures. The concern of getting a disease didn't even matter as much to him as fucking her raw. He had to do it. She had been self conscious about it the first time he floated the idea of losing the condom, trying to convince him that they should without giving her game away. The next week he had presented her with a clean bill of health for himself, so she couldn't even pretend she wanted a condom for her own protection. So she gave in, and just hoped that he wouldn't catch anything, thus outing her. She had told him that she'd only been with one other guy. What a joke. So he fucked her unprotected, imagining everything he'd seen done to these holes by countless others. The wet inner flesh of her pussy hugging and gliding up and down his cock. Knowing this exact feeling of extreme intimacy was what she had given to so many other cocks.

"Whatchya thinkin' about?" she asked suddenly, smiling at him as she munched on a piece of bread, bringing him sharply back to the restaurant, to his surroundings. His mind had obviously been wandering visibly.

'That video of you chugging the cum of 60 men,' he thought in response, but what he said was: "How beautiful you are." He delivered it cornily, knowing she would eat it up. It wasn't a lie either. He was just thinking about more than that.

She blushed. "Aww," she said, wrinkling her nose at him. "You're so sweet."

He tried to remain engaged with her, giving adequate responses to her playful queries, trying to initiate some of his own. But still, the whole time his mind wandered, as it almost always did while he was out with her. He couldn't stop his imagination. When the waiter came and took their orders, Kevin imagined the odds of whether or not he had seen Melody's shame. Whether there was some inkling of recognition in his eyes that he was suppressing. He could have come across it anywhere. It was frequently trending on general porn sites, even now. And if he Googled her real name he would find page after page after page. HD pictures, or video, your choice. DP, TP, anything you could think of, basically, you could probably find video of it happening to her.

He had to credit those guys, they'd documented her fabulously, and evidently knew how to spread that shit with good SEO. And there she sat, smiling dumbly at the waiter as she ordered. He suspected she had no clue how bad it really was. She might as well get naked and spread her legs wide on this table for the whole restaurant to see her pussy. That's what in effect was already a reality for her. The search results were so good that even generic searches like "vagina" or "asshole" turned hers up as one of the top three results usually. She was the exemplary, case study vagina for the whole human race. Literally hundreds of millions of people had seen the pussy sitting two feet away from him in incredible detail, seen her taken cock after cock, seen that same smiling face above it all. He smiled at her as they handed their menus to the waiter. It was like foreplay as he looked at her sitting there all proper. He couldn't wait to get home and feel those mass-consumed holes from the inside.

They ate and split a bottle of wine between them, and by the time they left to walk home Melody was visibly tipsy, laughing and leaning against him as they went down the road. He held her with one arm around her shoulders. It was so much better than a normal relationship, even though he knew most guys would think he was crazy for thinking so. It added an incredible spice. Every time he saw his girlfriend he could get horny, just by looking at her fully dressed. How many other guys could say that? He was turned on by her various outfits, the different ways she took pride in her appearance, dressing cute but conservative, while at the same time he knew she was just covering herself in the most futile way possible. As if she could ever hide her nudity again. Just knowing that any of the guys passing them on the street could see what was beneath her little peacoat as surely as if he had an xray. That many of them probably had seen it at some point. Forget the rabid but somewhat niche fanbase that actively discusses her and tracks her whereabouts, the footage itself was very widespread on mainstream porn sites, often trending on the front page. And every guy looked at porn. Chances are the majority of every guy she encountered had seen some of it at some point or another. Whether or not their memory was triggered or they recognized her was another question, of course. And surely at least a couple a day did completely recognize and know who she was, but just didn't say anything to her.

The full footage of her ordeal had been edited into several smaller videos, although long cuts existed as well. There were curated versions where you could jump to specific parts, like her fisting or her bukakke. One of the most popular edits was just all the footage of the closeup inspections of her body. It didn't even include the fucking. Apparently some guys just really get off to the painstaking inspection of a shamed, red-faced woman's body. And he was glad they did. There were even full websites dedicated to her that included the footage of her parts along with full clarity still images. You just chose which part of her body you wanted to see from the menu and had a plethora of perfect quality closeups of that thing presented to you. Melody Ainsley's Asshole. Melody Ainsley's Pussy. Pussy spread. Her Feet. Cervix. Nipples. Tongue. Asshole gaped. Everything imaginable, all in 4k, perfectly detailed images that you could just keep zooming into without losing clarity. He'd set his computer wallpaper to be an ultra HD photo that was just the bottom of her right big toe dominating almost 100% of the screen. Zoomed in so close that you couldn't even really tell what it was without context. But it was in such detail that you could see every groove, every whorl of her toe print, like crevices. The picture alone with no context wasn't hot, but knowing that THIS was the level of detail that every other part of her body was documented in was incredible to him, and he loved to be reminded of it. There was enough detail in this picture to convict her of a crime if she left toeprints walking barefoot at the scene of it.

He looked at her seemingly innocent face smiling up at him. The fact that this girl, who was very demure and shy in her daily life, had every minute detail of her body documented in more detail than the most prolific pornstars, committed forever to the internet, was just something else. As strange as it sounded to say it, she really probably had the most widely and deeply documented body in human history. He bet she didn't even have any idea how bad it was. How many websites, how many views, how many followers. She could wear whatever clothes she wanted, but she could never really cover herself again. At any moment anyone could just pull out their smartphone and see exactly what was beneath them. No matter how classy she tried to pass herself as, she could be reduced back to that degenerate whore at any second by anyone with a smartphone. And this could never be reversed, ever. Her whole life would be defined by it.

So keep dressing cute, he thought. Wear your little boots and your coats or dresses or whatever you want. It won't ever matter again. Anyone who wants can undress you in seconds.

They got to her apartment, and she decided she wanted to get comfortable and watch TV for a while, maybe drink a little more wine. He was fine with this. He kicked off his shoes and plopped on the couch while she changed into a cute little nightie, just long enough to cover her ass. She turned down the lights then cuddled up next to him, tucking her feet up beside her and leaning against him, newly opened wine bottle in her hand.

They lay there for a couple hours, Kevin letting the images flash across his eyes and light up his face, his mind, as usual, racing with filthy thoughts about the girl leaning against his shoulder. She had to be in denial about it all now. He knew she was on anti-anxiety medication. It must have allowed her to convince herself that the whole thing would slip away quietly, that she'd never be noticed or at least never confronted. That she could just start a new life, leave Melody Ainsley behind.

He'd seen that video she'd posted months later. Of her crying in her apartment in Philly, saying she wished it hadn't happened. The forums had blown up over that. No one believed that she didn't want it, not really. Regretted it, sure. Kevin wasn't sure what to make of it. He'd seen the evidence that dom Daniel had posted, when people had questioned the legality and consensual nature of her original gangbang. It was pretty irrefutable. None of them had sympathy for her. Kevin felt sympathy on some level, but at the higher level of action, the level that would guide his behavior, he was perversely thrilled even more by her regret. It made it hotter that she wasn't just some unrepentant hoe. She really wanted to be a normal girl again. But she couldn't be.