Melody's Open Invite Gangbang

In his office, Bruce swirled his glass of fine brandy idly as he perused the forums where he had become the reigning VIP. On one bank of monitors he could see the live feed of all the cameras in Melody's suite, which of course anyone online could also tune into. Right now she was sitting on her couch, playing a video game. He'd given her more things to fill her time. She was fully naked, as was standard now, her long golden hair falling in shimmering waves and half-curls down nearly to her waist, concealing just one of her modest breasts. He had taken all of her clothes away six weeks ago, just three days after she had found out about the cameras and he had begun to establish the new terms and reality of her living situation. She had had nothing to cover herself with at all since then, day or night, with the exception of the sheets that he allowed her to keep on her bed while she slept. Her nipple piercings, horizontal steel barbells going through each nipple, and her diamond clit piercing were her only adornments. These she was instructed to keep in day and night. Nail polish, always neatly applied to her slender finger and toenails, and makeup was the only other thing she was permitted to have.

She had been very cold for the first few days, as he expected, and highly awkward now that she knew there was no corner of her quarters she could go which would escape the gaze of the constantly running cameras, and thus the eyes of the whole internet. She would sometimes self-deprecatingly speak out loud at times, when she was about to do something embarrassing she couldn't avoid, like take a shit, trying to cover the awkwardness she felt but only amplifying it dramatically. Everyone watching knew she didn't find anything funny about it when she would give a dry, humorless forced chuckle and say "Ok...I'm gonna take a shit now. Look away if you don't want to see something gross."

She had become much more self conscious at first, especially of using the toilet, sometimes going three days between bowel movements until she could put it off no longer. Her face would always flush bright red, knowing that every detail of this intensely private act was being broadcast in explicit detail to whoever in the world wished to watch. And watch they would. Just so that it could not be hidden in the constant stream, he had hired a very willing assistant, some man who lived in Melody's hometown of Spokane, who would timestamp everything that happened on her various cameras so people could jump to their favorite bits later. The numbers showed that the toilet trips attracted special attention. On average, every time she shit a good 80,000 people would see it, either live or later on, via his state of the art, full color HD camera embedded in the porcelain of the lower bowl, pointing up at the inner seat. 80,000 seeing her sphincter pinch off her filth, and then the bidet blast her clean. He knew, as did everyone else, that she hated it more than anything, and this fact alone probably accounted for most of the views. Their primary desire was to humiliate her.

Predictably, her long weepy spilling of her guts to him two months ago had driven them into a frenzy, and only encouraged them more. He had truthfully told her there were no cameras present at the time, which there weren't, but she had not asked about a microphone. So later that day her forums had the audio clip in its entirety, her revealing all of her inner torments of the last years, from her perspective. A fully willing slut, your typical pornstar, was one thing, but a regular girl pressed into this with constant regret and torment...it attracted a different breed. Most believed her, some didn't. But they all had plausible deniability. And it could not be denied how she seemed to have enthusiastically participated at times, or even brought further degradation upon herself entirely at times, like when she hijacked her own Facebook in a drunken manic episode of self-destruction, inviting people to come wreck her in her apartment.

Over the last nearly two months since revealing the cameras, Bruce had steadily escalated the situation for her, knowing where he wanted to take it. He would break her down entirely, until there was no humiliation, no torture she would not endure. But he had to pace it.

He didn't tell her about the audio recording yet. He had a feeling this would crush her possibly beyond repair right now. He was saving it for when she needed to be broken even further, and could survive it. Piece by piece dismantling her autonomy. He did not tell her about the many edits people had made, setting the audio of her breakdown to videos of her various gangbangs. How people now were jacking off to clips of her face covered in the cum of two dozen men, while her own weeping, gasping voice narrates: "I wanted to have a career in graphic design. I was on my way. I wanted my parents to be proud of me. Proud of the new job I had just gotten." Or the various others like it. But one day soon she would know.

Yes, he thought. One day soon she will know. And I know how she will react. How it will be the last layer of psychological submission. For a few years now her body, her physical autonomy had been conquered, but now so has her mind. I know she feels she slipped up by spilling all that to me, and she's right. The only thing in the world she thinks is till private - her thoughts. And now they have those too. All those deep, dark things. Now freely available to the same guys who jack off to pictures of her soles, her colon and her tongue. Just one more thing. They had everything now.

She had adapted well to his latest escalations, his new rules. A day after informing her that she would no longer have access to clothes unless he explicitly wished for her to have them, six weeks ago, he had laid out the ground rules for her new life. They were written on a board in her quarters, lest she ever forget them. He told her that her lodging was dependent on her following them without question.

The current rules were as follows:

1. Every specific, intentional sex or sex-adjacent act that happens to you in this house, or elsewhere while you are under my supervision, will be filmed in full lighting, with professional camera equipment. It will rival any professional porn production, if not exceed it in quality.

2. All passive, non-sexual action will also be filmed in the highest quality possible. This pertains to the hidden cameras that you already know of, as well as many microphones. All of this "slice-of-life" footage will be streamed live to the internet, as well as saved for public consumption in perpetuity. You will not know the locations of all hidden cameras, but you should assume that they are everywhere. All lighting in your quarters will be controlled remotely. All manual lightswitches will be deactivated.

3. No clothes, or coverings of any kind, are permitted to be worn by you except by Bruce's explicit instruction. The one exception to the covering rule is at night while you are in bed, at which time you may cover yourself with the bed's sheets for warmth, and then only when you are actually intending to go to sleep. If you are lazing in bed after waking up, the sheets must come down. Otherwise, no object or posture must be adopted to attempt to conceal any portion of your body.

4. Unless specifically directed otherwise, all meals will be eaten directly from the dog bowl on the floor in the corner of your dining area. A camera directly faces this bowl. A screen next to this will display a live feed of viewer comments, which you must focus on while chewing. You must take the food into your mouth by retrieving it directly from the bowl with your mouth. You may not use your hands. If food falls to the floor, you must also fetch it directly with your mouth. You must not use your hands in any capacity while eating, except to support the weight of your own body on the floor.

5. At the beginning of each day, you are only permitted to move about by crawling on all fours. You are not allowed to stand up, or have the soles of your feet touch the ground until you have earned your first load of in-person cum for the day, whether it be from Bruce or someone else at his discretion. An effort will always be made to provide this opportunity to you early in the day. Otherwise, you must crawl like a dog for the duration of that day.

6. You are behave toward any man, unless directly contradicted by Bruce, as if he is your master. You must obey any command given to you, by anyone, if it is in your power to do so. You must address every man as "sir," and obey with an air of thankfulness.

7. Any semen produced or present in your presence must be consumed as quickly as possible. If cum falls to the floor, you must lick it up.

8. Your toilet can only be flushed via a footswitch located on the opposite end of your bathroom. When you leave the toilet, an overhead camera will take a photograph of the contents of your toiletbowl for documentation and posterity. Your toilet will not have a lid. This is to continually impress upon you the fact that no element of your life is private.

9. You will submit to frequent, sometimes daily, full body examinations by an associate of Bruce's choosing.

10. Given the full nature of your surveillance, it will not be possible to escape detection of rule infraction. Rule-infraction will be punished with, at a minimum, a cum-only diet for three days, supplemented only by oatmeal mixed into some of this cum, and nutritional pills. Infractions can stack, meaning that in theory you could face a month of a cum-only diet. Willing volunteers online, via the mail, will ensure that there is a plentiful availability of semen. Viewers will also be invited to suggest and vote on additional punishment, which is subject to approval and implementation by Bruce or one of his associates.

An addendum below all this read: "Any of the above rules can be changed, or added to, at any time at Bruce's discretion. You forfeit any right to complain, or determine the fairness of any action."

She had tacitly agreed to the rules with no response. At first Bruce had briefly worried he had played too much of his hand, too early, but in the end he had read her correctly. The next day she had dutifully crawled about on the ground, upturned soles dragging behind her, all dignity gone and obviously unhappy, and yet complying. She had eaten her omelet from the dog bowl with no hands, staring with no reaction at the screen as the gleeful and degrading comments poured in. They were all thrilled to speak directly to her. Then he had gone down and given her her opportunity to stand, leading her by her hair crawling to the toilet, where he had her place her face in the bowl for the toilet camera to capture while he rutted her from behind and finally left her with a thick creampie running from her pussy down her thighs. As she clutched the porcelain rim, catching her breath, he coughed and then glanced down at the cum that had spilled from her spent cunt to the floor. With no further instruction she put her head down and licked it from the tiles.

He didn't mention to her at that time that he had placed his contact info on the site, that he would soon allow opportunities for her whole community to get directly involved, in a manner controlled by him. Soon they would be able to vote for what kind of acts she should perform, fulfilling any and every fetish there was demand for, no matter how niche. These services would, at times, cost them money. Bruce didn't need the money, but he had to have some way of determining who was really serious. They had never had such a direct and easy method of controlling her before, most of them. He could not wait to provide them the ability. But he had to pace himself. Too much too soon and the whore might decide to risk her chances out in the world. But with careful escalation he would soon have her doing anything. Soon he would have her primed to give herself to anyone who wanted her, in person. He would let everyone on those forums get their dick inside of her, to the extent possible. But first the curated breakdown of her psyche.

The new, amazingly thorough and high-quality anatomy section of his website was just completed yesterday. Bruce was rather proud of it. He had come up with innovative, technological means of documenting every inch of her body in excruciating detail, including a good portion of the inside of it. Areas of high interest would receive regular updates, with the full archive of course constantly available.

Other pages of the site gave Melody's full background, her history, her former dreams, former jobs, education history. It included all the old photos and videos of Melody in her former life that Bruce, or anyone else, had been able to find. It included her birthdate, her social security number, old addresses, copies of her old driver's license and the information contained therein, the name of her first (and only) serious boyfriend, the date she lost her virginity to him. It included testimonials from former acquaintances, describing her shy awkward demeanor, her interests. She had liked video games and anime, frequently wore oversized hoodies and had a small group of friends, too introverted to speak much to anyone outside of it. How it all clashed with what became of her. It documented her hidden dark fantasies, including the stolen internet history of the porn videos she had watched in the lead up to her first gangbang and exposure, all of them videos of women being degraded and gangbanged, fisted and bukkaked by dozens of men. This is what she secretly got off to.

The anatomy section was the crown jewel of the site, aside of course from the live feed. The top read "The Definitive Anatomy of Melody Ann Ainsley." It went on to list her blood type (O), her height (5'4"), her weight (125), her shoe size (9), and the dimensions of every inch of her body. Her bust and chest size, the width of her hips. The length and width, in millimeters, of each of her toes, the length and width of her soles at the ball of the foot, the arch, and the heel. Of her nipples and areola, her labia, her sphincter (with its 28 wrinkles), along with plenty of pictures of each area documented. The width of her stretched mouth, the depth of her pussy in aroused and unaroused states, the current maximum gape achieved on her asshole. Internal, lit pictures of the lining of her descending colon.

Someone could have created a perfect clone from the information. It had detailed prints of her fingers and toes, as well as the whole hands and whole feet, each whorl and line and crease and tiny scar documented in stark black ink.

A separate link took you to the archive of each of her bowel movements, both as it came out and as it sat in the bowl waiting to be flushed. His medical assistant Thomas had been giving her thorough check ups, mostly gynecological, every three days, always with bare hands. Each one produced a new slate of photographs of her vagina, both in its resting state, before and after arousal, as well as with the labia spread wide and with a clear speculum buried deep in her, cranked to the maximum width, producing a clear shot of the ripples of her vaginal cavity and her cervix. Each dated and documented. Her reproductive tunnel opened for the world to study, day after day, so pink and well lit. Videos documented her pussy, gaped by the speculum, as she was brought to orgasms she could not help but scream through, her pussy muscles flexing in futility to close around the intrusion, wetness pooling at the back of her canal, under her cervix.

There was a continually updated calendar of her menstrual cycle, when she had ovulated and bled, the consistency, taste, smell, and amount of vaginal discharge at each checkup. A record of every strain of HPV she had.

He had her regularly fuck a state-of-the-art endoscope, a lit, clear dildo-shaped device that recorded from the inside. You could see the cock POV as it parted her labia, penetrated her vaginal hole, pushing aside the jagged remnants of her hymen, and then slowly sink further into her cavity, her pink, ridged walls hugging it as the tip pushed apart the billowing, sensitive tissue inside of her, until it revealed her shining, donut-shaped cervix. They would push it in and out at various speeds, lingering for a long time at every depth, to allow as much clear documentation as possible, all of it clear and in focus. It was the perfect tour of the inside of a woman's most secret place, views no one would normally have. They did the same with her ass, and her throat, letting people watch as her uvula swung back to accommodate the intrusion, the muscles in the back of her throat contracting as she fought the gagging reflex.

He had a room built that was fitted out with cameras in a full 360 degree orb, with a glass floor. He had Melody stand in the room as the cameras mapped her body from every angle, and then had her sit in a glass chair for another position of the same. The result was an interactive, movable map of her body, where people could rotate her like a 3D model, and zoom in wherever they wanted. Clicking on a body part would bring up the full record of HD detail pictures of that spot, with the ability to scroll through time and see what her cunt or tongue or soles looked like on X date. Where applicable, toggles allowed you to switch between different states of each area. Her feet with black toenail polish, bright red, white, French manicure. Her pussy in various states of arousal and spread, from closed to gaped wide, clean shaven or with a week of pubic hair growth, a month. Her asshole normal, pushed out, gaped, or prolapsing. Her soles pressed and smushed against the glass she stood on, or arched, or flat, her toes normal or splayed so that you could zoom in to see the very flecks of dust on the ridge of the webbing between her digits. Her face neutral, or crying, or with nostril pulls and mouth wideners, or covered in sheets of cum. All easy to download for free in full quality, with an option to sign up for automatic weekly updates to be emailed to you, so that even if one day this website was shut down, the content would still exist on a million different harddrives around the world, and thus thousands of further websites, indefinitely. Unerasable.

There were pictures of her teeth, her belly button, her tastebuds and uvula. Full probe videos from her throat, through her digestive tract, and out her asshole. Things that most people wouldn't even find erotic. Just to dehumanize her, to document her like a specimen. He knew many would consider it to be utterly strange or unnecessary, but he didn't care. Plenty of people understood. It was the principle. Bruce smiled, reflecting on how Melody surely had the most completely exposed, documented, widely-examined body in human history. Knowing this only drove him to be all the more thorough and meticulous. It just mattered that it was there, mapped out forever. You could see most of the same things, here and there, of other women on the internet, porn stars, but to have it ALL laid out so methodically, so thoroughly, was so erotically invasive. It was important for everyone to have the complete record. The complete public record of what was once a woman.

So too had he begun collecting samples of all of her bodily fluids, to be made available for sale to anyone visiting the site. Vials of her piss, her blood, her spit, her tears, her discharge. If she was lactating he would have taken her milk, and intended to when possible. Anything to share her, to continue the experiment of how little privacy or exclusivity a woman could have. If anyone on the forums expressed a desire to see something, or do something, or collect something from her, it was Bruce's intention to make it possible.

For now he also sold life-size imprints of her feet molded in clay, highly detailed, each wrinkle of her soles and print of her toes intact, as well as a similar imprint of her vulva region. He intended to sell the world's highest quality fleshlight of her once he obtained the means of accurately sculpting the interior of her vagina. It was important that it felt like fucking the real girl, not just a generic tunnel with her labia plastered on the front, like most fleshlights sold now were. But for now he was happy with what was currently available in his shop. He wanted to make as much of her accessible to as many people as possible. He had sold 1,890 of the feet imprints, 2,330 of the vulva, and more orders came in every day.