HE RELEASES MY CUFFS from the wall and pulls me to my feet, not bothering to put away his cock. It wobbles in the air in front of him, enormous and wet. My mouth waters behind the gag. My shirt is so soaked with drool and whatever else, it's practically see-through, and my no-nonsense flesh-colored bra is clearly visible, my nipples rigid and clearly visible.
I stumble and nearly trip, but he catches me, doing his smug laugh thing again.
He pinches one of my nipples. "Don't worry about this ugly bra. You'll be naked from here on out."
I flinch and a weird noise comes out of my sore throat. The bra was the least of my worries.
My nipple pops out of his hand, and a second later, he's got a swiss army blade in front of me. He slices through my sweater and shirt, cuts my bra straps off at the shoulders, slices my skirt in half.
I lost my panties long ago, back at the table where Jay abandoned me while this strange man explored my body as if it were hiss own.
I just stand there. I'm not sure how to analyze my own reactions. I know, somewhere in the back of my mind, that I ought to fight, that I ought to scream and spit and cry. But I do nothing. I just wait patiently as he tears off the last of the layers that hide my nakedness from his view.
"Very nice," Mikey mutters, then calls over his shoulder, "come check this out."
I want to die.
I want the floor to open up and swallow me whole.
Who is he talking to? Who is he inviting to inspect me like a piece of meat.
A man rounds a stall and saunters down the hallway. Then more boot steps join his, and more men come out of stalls. Where were they all hiding? What were they all doing?
Mikey sees the confusion on my face. "They were in the stalls. Draining their balls in other women. We have to do it, you see. Every few hours. One of the side effects of the injections. Our balls swell up like grapefruits if we aren't careful." He strokes me on my butt like he's trying to console me. "You aren't the only one. We've got three other women in this first phase. Ten more up at the farmhouse serving the guests. Another arrives tomorrow."
I look from face to face. There are five of them...some of them must have been sharing.
"I ain't done yet," says one of them. A tall guy with a doughy neck and beady eyes. He points down at the massive cock hanging in the air in front of him, glistening in the dim light.
"Well, step right up then," Mikey says, and pushes me firmly back down on the table, ass up, my cheek scraping against the rough scraped wooden surface. "Not anal yet, she's not ready. But you can have first shot at her pussy."
He toes my legs apart with his boot, and a second later, something pushes between my thighs, moving in and out. Fingers again. "She's real wet. What'd you do to her?"
"Just her mouth. She likes it though. She was practically humping my hand before her husband even left."
I screw up my face, blinding by a flash of self-loathing. It's true. I did do that. Even now, all I can think about is that mango-flavored cum of Mikey's and how badly I want more of it.
Is that a side-effect of my injection? The one Jay claimed to give to me?
Or maybe there's just something wrong with me. This new feeling inside me is unnatural. I shouldn't be aroused by what they're doing to me. I shouldn't crave their cocks like I do. I know all that, I do...but it's also really hard to focus beyond the driving, burning, staggering need within me, this monstrous yearning hunger that has my nipples hard as rocks against the surface of the table, my pussy throbbing and pulsing. It's too distracting.
I'm becoming a whore. It must be the injection Jay gave me in my sleep before he brought me here, delivered me to these crazy men with their monstrous penises and their overly-productive balls, and now they're turning me into a whore.
The blunt head of a cock replaces the fingers and all I can feel is wretched, filthy gratitude. I brace myself, squeezing my eyes shut as he bottoms out, shoving his way deep inside me. I'm so wet he slides right in, and much as I hate to admit it, the cock inside me is a blessing. I felt like I was on fire before.
He groans, long and deep and the noise vibrates through my whole body. He shifts his feet and flexes his hips, shoving just a little bit deeper so those massive balls of his push against me. "Hi Tara. It's nice to meet you. I'm Duane."
He pulls back out, so just the tip is in me, and thrusts in again. His balls slap against me. If I just arch my back a tiny bit, they'd hit my clit next time. Maybe they won't notice. Maybe they won't know what a horrible slut I am.
This time, when he pulls back, I arch my back ever so slightly, rising up on the tips of my toes, trying to get the angle just right.
"She likes it." Someone says behind me.
So much for keeping my secret. My cheeks flame red, I squeeze my eyes shut and force my body to go lax under Duane's thrusting dick, ignoring the protests of my volcanic pussy.
"They all do eventually," Mikey says resigned, stroking his cock with one of his big hands. "But she's thinking too hard. Someone fill her mouth, give her something to focus on or she'll psyche herself out."
No, no, no. The thoughts are cut off, though, because the massive dick that was filling me pulls away, leaving my pussy empty. I want it back. I need it back.
I make noise, lots of noise. I tell myself I'm making noise because I'm angry that they're doing these things to me, but honestly, I can't even tell. I might just be making noise because that hunger is back and my pussy is throbbing again.
"Don't worry baby. We'll fill that hungry mouth."
"That's right baby. Around here, noisy girls get dicks in their mouths," one of the men says, and I pin his head up on my imaginary dart board right beside Jay and Mikey.
The anger fuels me, but it wars with another part of me. The part that wants it. The part that revels in the mango-flavor, that hates the emptiness, the part of me wants to make noise all the time, so my mouth is never empty. I hate her. She's a whore. She's a slut. She. Is. Not. Me.
So I focus on the good part, the strong part, the part of me that can't wait for them to make a mistake so I can shove something dick-like into their own mouths. She snarls for vengeance even as my body writhes for something to fill the aching emptiness.
They move me over to a bench, lay me down on my belly, someone pulls my head up by my hair, and a massive cock, leaking more of that delicious fruity liquid pushes into my mouth. I lave my tongue across it's surface, but it slides past me into my throat.
Duane, I think, slams his way back into my pussy. The relief is instantaneous. My eyes roll back for a moment.
The cock in my mouth rams against the back of my throat, demanding I open more. I try, forcing my muscles to relax and it rams down deeper.
"Not too hard, Roy. I beat up her throat pretty good. It's got to be sore."
I'm oddly touched my Mikey's thoughtful words. That terrifies me on some level I don't want to think about too hard. Being grateful to Mikey is a dangerous thing to feel. That's the way that lets them win.
It's much easier to focus on the delicious cock in my mouth, on Duane filling me deep. I arch my back and moan—I can't help myself—when Duane's big hairy balls tickle my clit. It feels too good.
"That's a good girl, Tara. Very nice." That's Mikey again as he tugs on my nipples, and pushes a pillow under my shoulders, taking some of the support of my shoulders and neck. His hand moves down and his fingers slide around my clit, one on either side.
"This is my favorite time with them," he says idly. "When they're right on the edge of giving in."
"I don't like hurting them." One of the guys watching says, "I like them best at the end, when they're happy."
Happy because their broken. I want to scream, but it just sounds like I'm moaning on Roy's cock.
