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Playing with Toys, Part Eight


Chapter Eleven: Relationship Goals


Katie had no idea who was fucking her asshole, she only knew that it did not feel good. She also knew, however, that it would begin to. She strained against the restraints on the bed as the man worked the length of his cock into her well-lubed backdoor. Her groans sounded loud in her own head, but they were muffled by the constant sounds of women having earth-shattering orgasms. The sounds were coming from the earbuds in her ears. Images flashed across her vision, those of orgasming women having their rectums stuffed with cocks and sex toys.

Katie assumed that her boyfriend’s father was pushing his own cock into her ass, but there was no way to know that for certain. Not much made sense right now. Her body felt like lead and the only thing she wanted was to fall asleep for days, but they wouldn’t let her. Instead, they just played a seemingly endless stream of hardcore anal sex in her vision. Whenever she fell asleep, someone would swat her ass with the crop and she would jerk awake with a screech. The vibrating toy stuffed in her cunt was a continuous, teasing thing that only served to keep her pussy clenching, wet, hot, but unable to cum.

She had no way to measure the passing of time, but she knew it had to have been several hours that she’d watched these videos. For all of those hours, there had been only the vibrating in her cunt, the repeated swats to her ass to keep her awake, the videos, the sounds of butt-fucked sluts orgasming, and the numbness in her limbs. Then, someone had begun fingering slippery lube into her own ass. At some point, she had begged to be let up to use the toilet, but that plea had been ignored. Eventually, she’d wet herself again. She wasn’t certain how much of the wet spot she was laying in was piss, and what portion of it was the slut slime seeping through the belt from her cunt.

The cock in her ass burrowed deeper, stretching her open and making her groan tiredly as more drool spilled into the already-soaked pillow. She kicked her legs but she wasn’t certain they obeyed, because she could hardly feel them. Then, the hips of the man fucking her touched her ass cheeks and she felt the full length of his cock lodged inside of her. He settled there for a moment as her ass contracted around his shaft, but then he slid it back a few inches and plunged it in again.

Katie jerked and squeaked, but she had little energy and no fight in her. There was only the weariness, the vibrating toy that was now pressed hard against her pussy walls against the cock up her ass, the sounds, and the videos. The fucking started and her body responded. If she weren’t so tired, she might have felt more disgusted with herself for the way her hips rocked back to meet the thrust of his dick. She wanted to cum. The ceaseless vibrations were torture. It wasn’t so much a want now as a need. It was the only thing she wanted more than sleep.

She could feel the pleasure rising inside her, though, as the cock pressed at something deep inside her, and the vibrations traveled along his shaft. There was an orgasm approaching and it was happening fast. Katie humped back against the man.

“Please! Need to cum!” she begged.

Her pleas were met only by more intense thrusting as the man slid half his cock out of her and then back in. He repeated it, over and over. Her fists balled up and she could feel her mouth open in a silent scream as the feeling of release began to crest. She grunted like an animal and then the release came. She convulsed under the weight of the man as he speared her ass, and she tugged against the restraints as her muscles seized with the violence of the orgasm. Her own slutty noises joined those of the orgasming butt-sluts in her vision as she twitched and writhed under the weight of the man fucking her. His cock jerked in her violated anus and then the hot burst of cum pasted her insides. She jerked again as he continued making small, sharp thrusts into her, emptying his balls in her ass as if she were nothing more than a useful hole.

The man withdrew, his cock sliding free with a sickening slurp that would have made her blush if she’d been able. She didn’t have the strength to do anything but lay here, though. Her lungs heaved and her skin burned. Her eyes watered and they hurt from the constant assault of the porn. The afterglow of the violent orgasm made her feel like she was floating, drifting off into a well-deserved slumber. Then, the crop came down on her ass and she shrieked. It came out as more of a croak.

Someone undid the cuffs on her legs and then her wrists came free. She sobbed as sensation began to flow back into them in painful pinpricks. They rolled her over and two sets of hands sat her up. One of them put a glass to her mouth but she couldn’t lift her hands to hold it. They helped her sip. It was heavenly. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d drank something, and she was sure that she’d lost half the water in her body just from the slut nectar pouring out of her cunt.

They let her sit until she could feel her legs again, and then she smelled that terrible, disgusting odor of dog food under her nose. A spoon poked at her mouth. She couldn’t see it. She didn’t have to. Katie wanted to cry, but it was too much effort. She opened her mouth and let them put the slimy chunks into it. She swallowed them and shuddered.

Something clamped painfully onto one of her nipples and she shrieked. Her hand shot up to pull it away, but that only earned her a harsh slap across the face that left her dazed. One of them held her wrist, and then a second clamp crushed her other nipple. She shrieked again and they shut her up by pushing a spoonful of dog food into her mouth. She choked and nearly spit it up, but she imagined being slapped again, or worse, and so she forced it down.

The videos and sound stopped abruptly and the sudden lack of stimuli was jarring in a way that made her flinch. The vibrating toy in her cunt seemed very loud inside her skull and the pain in her tits was agonizing. Someone removed the earbuds and then the goggles. She winced and shut her eyes against the sudden invasion of light. They didn’t speak to her as she blinked, her eyes teary, burning, until at last, she could open them. When she did, Kevin was there. Mr. Keller sat on the other side of her.

“Hey, babe,” Kevin said and his grin was as evil as his father’s had been. “I’ve been doing some thinking. Maybe we need to discuss our relationship goals.”


Chapter Twelve: Unhappy Happiness


When Rebecca returned from her weekend trip, she was alone in the house. Though she’d slept well in the car, awakening from a pleasant dream in which she’d been drawing, she looked forward to curling up in her own bed. If she just slept longer, maybe she wouldn’t feel like such a slut. She wondered if Katie would forgive her for being so disgusting, but the only thing she’d heard from her friend was a single message shortly after walking in the door.

“Fun weekend,” it read. “TTYL!”

The message seemed to indicate that Katie wasn’t mad at Rebecca for letting Kevin fuck her, for which she felt grateful. It was good to have friends and good that they were happy. When her friends were happy, she was happy, and that felt right. She dropped her bag in her bedroom, showered, and then dressed in a pair of pajamas.

She huddled under her covers and tried to nap, but her mind kept turning back to her awful behavior over the weekend. She couldn’t believe that she’d been so stupid. Tossing back and forth, it was impossible to get comfortable. To take her mind off the guilt, she pulled a pad and pencils from her nightstand and put one of the pencils to the paper, with no clear idea of what she wanted to draw. The image from her dream started to form, and her hand moved.

She started with the door, which was red in her mind’s eye, but charcoal black in the outline on the paper. She framed the door with windows and penciled in small flower boxes beneath them. From there, the drawing expanded to include a covered porch and then the faint beginnings of a roof. The bones of trees grew up around the place as her hand worked, drawing out the image from the dream and bringing it to life with her talent. It felt good, relaxing, calming.

When it was done, she could show it to her friends and they would like it. They would like her. They might want to fuck her again, but they would like the drawing and she’d have worth. She’d be a good friend.

Time ticked by and the drawing became vivid, lifelike, and real, but it still had no color. She flipped the page and started a new one, this time beginning with a fireplace. At the moment, it was cold and empty. She added walls around it, extended the lines, and the fireplace now had a room. In the room was a couch and two armchairs. Above the mantle, she drew a circle on the white wall. It expanded, then she shaded it. It was black. Inside the circle, she drew hands, pointed upward, and the circle became a clock with a white face and black hands.

Flames came alive in the fireplace and the room became warm and pleasant. This was a place where she went to have fun. She could invite her friends and they’d love the drawing. On the couch, she created the outline of a girl, lying down, but the girl was missing something. She was missing friends. Rebecca added another figure, this one a man, and the man was on top of the girl. She gave him arms and then hands. One of the hands slapped the girl in the face.

Rebecca dropped the pencil with a shudder. The man had no real form or identity, but she knew who it was. It was Cary. She didn’t have to draw his face to know that he was happy. She didn’t have to draw the girl’s face to know that she was not. Only, she was happy? It didn’t make sense. How could the girl be unhappy if she was also happy?

The girl was her. She was unhappy about being slapped and didn’t like that Cary was fucking her. At the same time, she knew that she was happy because Cary was happy to be fucking her and slapping her face. That meant that she should be happy because good friends were useful. Good friends didn’t have to like what their friends liked, they only had to keep their friends happy. It made her head hurt trying to puzzle it out, so she set the drawing aside so she wouldn’t have to look at it.

Instead, she shut her eyes and lay back on the pillow. She thought back to the hazy, first night when she’d started being a slut. The hazy images were clear now. She had kissed Katie and she had kissed Kevin. She’d kissed Cary and let Katie lick her cunt. The images made her cheeks burn with the shame of her actions, but that same shameful feeling brought back the memory of how she’d orgasmed. The orgasm had come because she was being a good friend and letting them fuck her. The fact that it made her feel dirty and slutty pleased them, and their happiness made her cum.

Rebecca’s hand drifted down and slid into her pajama pants. She hadn’t put on panties. Why hadn’t she worn panties? The answer came immediately. Panties aren’t for sluts. Disgusting sluts don’t need panties. She was a disgusting slut. Her fingers slipped between her wet lips. She was wet and hot at the thought of being a disgusting slut.

The memories rushed back as she touched herself. Cary’s cock in her as she lay in the bed. Cary’s growl in her ear as he held her to the bed and fucked her. The feeling of his dick filling her, her pussy gripping it tightly, and her body reacting, giving her pleasure from it, even as she felt so low and afraid. She masturbated, working her fingers in and out of her wet cunt as she remembered the fear that contrasted so sharply with the pleasant feelings from her cunt.

She hadn’t been raped. Not really. Cary was just doing what good friends did, fucking her so that she’d be useful. Yes. That was it. Her guide was right. It was her own fault for being such a slut. Whimpering as she rapidly worked her clit over, Rebecca came on her fingers, remembering what a slut she’d been, how much of a slut she was, how shameful she’d acted.

She worked her cunt over again, trying to get another orgasm from it. The orgasm would help. If she just remembered being a good friend, then she wouldn’t feel so worthless. Her friends would like her. She imagined Cary coming into her room now, getting into her bed, and pushing her legs apart. The weight of his body crushed her into the mattress as he pushed his cock into her and called her a slut. He told her that she was a cunt that wanted to be fucked, just like all cunts do. And she knew he was right. He fucked her, and he came in her, and then she came again. Now, she wasn’t worthless.


 

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