Sorority Sister, Part 2

 

Copyright 2001 Lance Edwards

 

 

Oh my god!! I can’t believe this! I just can’t believe what I’ve gotten myself into!

 

More and more gorgeous college girls continue to pour into the basement rec room, surrounding me with their laughter, jeering, and half-naked bodies. And it’s not just innocent cotton dainties, or even silk lingerie that they’re wearing either.

 

Like Suzi, my current rapist and erstwhile girlfriend, they’re all clad in shiny black satin, leather, vinyl, or even latex, with a generous helping of gleaming steel chain. They’re all carrying canes, quirts, riding crops, bullwhips, and long, heavy fraternity (or in this case sorority) paddles. And like Suzi too, each and every one of them sports a wicked-looking firmly mounted dildo -- fifteen, twenty, perhaps two dozen direly threatening cocks crowding in around me as I lie facedown, crosswise and absolutely helpless atop this uncomfortable fucking foosball table.

 

“All right, Suzi, you got him!”

 

“Way to go, girl!”

 

“Look at that worthless slut!”

 

“All trussed up and no one to blow!”

 

“A perfect capture!”

 

I’m perfectly captured, all right. With two wide strips of strapping tape plastered over my mouth, I can’t even beg for mercy. Yet this is the least of my considerable worries. Behind me, painfully bowing my back and shoulders, my forearms are held parallel and tightly wrapped from elbows to fingertips by a makeshift bondage glove formed from that very same tape. My ankles are spread out and similarly bound (high up off the floor) to the two right-side legs of this small but sturdy game table. Yet besides being bent right over it and helplessly splayed out wide, my captive body is also much more intimately secured to this cursed thing. My poor swollen erection is caught in the foosball hole -- a tight oak penis ring locking me insidiously to the sidewall. I can’t even wriggle without yanking on it, and every stroke of Suzi’s ferociously insistent butt-fucking rhythm pumps it constantly, maddeningly in and out.

 

Mistress Suzi laughs gloatingly, basking in her sisters’ praise, and she shows off for them by hammering away at her new Slut-boy even harder than ever. The sheer power and pace of her humungous penis slamming into my ass brings tears streaming from my eyes, and lusty cheers of appreciation from the sadistic sorority surrounding me.

 

This torture goes on for an interminable interval, until at last the newest DOM sister cries out an ecstatic orgasm. Then she presses tight against me, driving her member in as deep as it will possibly go. Again she grinds that big dildo around and around, really reaming me out righteously. Finally she withdraws, leaving me loose and throbbing and agonizingly open, my poor savaged rectum a howling abyss. Someone hands her a towel, and as Suzi mops away the sweat of her exertion, she moves around the table to where my head and shoulders hang off the other side.

 

“Well, Slut-boy, I hope that was as good for you as it was for me.” 

 

She snickers evilly. “I hope it was worth your six-week wait for sex. Now I’d like you to meet the rest of your many new mistresses. Of course, you won’t be needing any of their names. As with me, you will always and forever address each of us only as ‘Mistress’ or ‘Goddess’.” She turns to her sisters.

 

“Mistresses and goddesses, this is Slut-boy, our newest slave-male, butt-slut and honorary sissy-sister. As you can see, I’ve completed my assignment of capturing and preparing him for our usual breaking-in ceremony. Since you’re all here, I think we can get the initiation underway!” Cheering erupts throughout the spacious rec room. Kegs are broached, and glasses raised in the first toast of the evening. “Here’s to our new Sister Suzi, for faithfully supplying us with yet another stupid little sissy-slut for our ever-growing stable!”

 

“Hear, hear!”

 

“Whoo-hoo!

 

“Yeah baby!”

 

“Muchas Gracias!”

 

The girls all chug, get refills, and once again gather around.

 

“What shall we do with this one?” asks one of my new mistresses, from right in front of me. Without raising my dangling head, I can see no higher than her washboard abs. But the way she strokes and pulls on her shiny black cock, and the eagerness in her voice, give me the shivers.

 

“Well, I threatened to turn him into a slutty little junior high cheerleader,” laughs Suzi, “And the way my Slut-boy squirmed when I suggested it makes me think it’s a good damn idea. It might be kind of tricky to transform him properly, all trussed up the way he his. But I believe in rising to a challenge! What do you say?”

 

“Yeah!”

 

“Way to go!”

 

“Great idea!”

 

“Let’s do it!”

 

One at a time they untape my legs. Then, using an electric razor, they shave them bare, all the way up to and including my paddle-bruised ass and vulnerable balls. Then tight white knee-high stockings are pulled on, followed by cute little black-and-white saddle shoes. As they tape my second leg back in place, I’m already burning crimson with humiliation. But unfortunately these goddesses are just getting started.

 

“Who has that biggest plug?” asks Suzi suddenly. “Slut-boy’s fuck-hole is starting to close up. We can’t let that happen!”

 

“Hell no!” Lots of general laughter. Then...

 

Oh no. Holy shit! Look at that thing! A huge, conical rubber object is passed over.

 

AH! AHHH! OOOOW!!!!

 

Jesus Christ! It must be over three inches thick at its widest! And they’re cramming the entire thing into my ass! Ahhh, Jesus! I can’t help squealing into my gag at its insertion, and then whimpering miserably at the terrible way it brutally stretches and painfully overfills my already traumatized insides. But the girls surrounding me just laugh, cheer, applaud, drink to my misery, and move on to the next diabolical step.

 

A bag of brightly colored plastic clothespins is produced, and two of these are placed pinching onto each of my nipples. Then I can’t even begin to guess how many are clamped all over my trapped hard cock and dangling balls. I can only hear one of the girls tell the others to “Save the last two for his ears, for after we do his hair.”

 

Oh, great. But then the cross-dressing resumes, as a cheerleader’s pleated mini-skirt is somehow wrapped about my waist, then flung up in the back to expose my extensively bruised, plug-stuffed ass. The front of the skirt drapes inside the table, covering my bulging, screaming, clamped-off and multiply-clipped prick. Then a lacy white strapless bra is worked under my bound arms and around my chest. Once in place, the big cups are properly tented out by the clothespins torturing my nipples.

 

Meanwhile other girls get to work on my hair: brushing it, parting it, and then braiding it into two matching pigtails with big pink bows tying off the ends. Now the last two clothespins are attached to my earlobes, which proves almost as painful as having them all over my nipples and genitals. Still I whimper and squirm, which is all I can do, until at last Suzi steps up and without warning rips the tape gag away from my face.

 

“OOOWW!! Suzi, please--!” I scream, but she stops my protest dead with a stunning roundhouse slap to my cheek.

 

“Silence, Slut-boy!” she shrieks. “What did I tell you? You will address your rightful owners and superiors by their titles alone, and only when you are given permission to speak! Don’t make your initiation, enslavement, and enstablement any more punishing than it will already be! 

 

"Little fool, you can’t even conceive of the terrible things we do around here to a disobedient slut! Right now though, all we’re going to do is paint you up like the scuzzy little teen-aged tramp that you are! So no crying, talking, moving, or doing anything else that might spoil your make-over. Jenny, Teresa, why don’t you each grab one of his pigtails. Hold his face up and his head steady, so we can make him look just as lubricious as possible.”

 

Utterly defeated, abysmally humiliated, I lapse into compliance while they finish my transformation from a cocky male college student into a slutty little JV cheerleader. All kinds of heavy make-up are applied: foundation, blush, eyeliner, shadow, mascara, lipstick, and then some gaggingly gauche perfume. Finally they all step back, take a critical look, and burst into uproarious laughter. Derisive ridicule rains on my head, and then flashbulbs pop again and again: documentary evidence to enforce my eternal servitude.

 

“Look how red his face is! Who needs blush! Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha!”

 

Still they laugh, and belittle me, take pictures and swill beer, until one tall, completely topless goddess (obviously president, or head mistress of this sorority, judging by the authority she wields) shakes out her glorious mane of flaming red hair (beautifully jiggling her big freckled breasts), and gives her upcurving cock an experimental tug. Then she calls out above the clamor.

 

“All right sisters, we’ve got the new sissy-slut properly costumed. What shall we do to this ‘Slut-boy’ first? The obligatory paddling? I can see by the bruises that Suzi’s given him a taste of that already. Or do we start right away teaching our reluctant slut what it’s like to suck cock?”

 

“Why not both at once?” proposes my betrayer and former girlfriend. “I just gave him a teaser with the ping-pong paddle, nothing at all like what he’s got coming now. And speaking of ‘coming now’, Slut-boy here is a notorious homophobe! I’ve heard him make thousands of derogatory remarks about gays. Let’s not waste any time, let’s punish and instruct him simultaneously. The sooner he’s properly broken in, the sooner the REAL fun can begin!”

 

This little speech is met with growing horror by me, and zealous acclamation and approval by the room at large. At last the head goddess nods and agrees.

 

“All right! Mandy, Ginny, you’ve got the two heaviest paddles, with the holes drilled and all. You can start on the rear while I take the front!”

 

Six feet tall she steps deliberately in front of me, still stroking that hard upjutting penis.

 

Flesh-colored, perfectly life-like despite its great size, only its lack of freckles distinguishes it from the rest of her statuesque body. God, she’s so gorgeous, with those big teardrop tits, thick red hair and blazing hazel eyes. Unfortunately she’s also several years older; more intimidating than Suzi even at her most fearsome. As she moves in and grabs my pigtails I’m too cowed to even think about resisting her, despite my fear and loathing of what I know she intends to do.

 

“Open up, Slut-boy! You’re going to suck on my big hard cock!”

 

“Yes my Goddess,” I humbly respond, and as she yanks back my head I open my mouth as wide as I can.

 

Immediately she thrusts forward, entering me. All the girls cheer, chug, et cetera. But before I can even think about trying to suck, or bob, or try out any technique at all --

 

“AHHHHHHH-UUUUNGH!!”

 

An enormously painful blow smacks into my ass, driving me forward. As I yell, and my own cock pulls at its trap, the big hard fake one filling my mouth rams right back into my throat. Another blow follows, then another and another in rapid succession. Standing on either side of my butt, two of my mistresses are whaling away at my already wounded ass, each one cracking their heavy, perforated, two-handed oak paddle against me while their partner is on the backstroke.

 

My earlier paddling by Suzi was incredibly arousing, but this assault is far more intense -- what with the weight and pace of the blows, that awful plug in my butt, the clothespins torturing my jerking erection, and above all the massive cock being simultaneous thrust into my other open end. Indeed, the ‘head’ goddess raping my face gives me no quarter whatsoever. Immediately she tips my head all the way back: opening my throat completely. And right away she starts driving her dildo deep into my esophagus.

 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah!” come the screams. “Deep-throat it, Slut-boy! Don’t waste our time just sucking on the knob! The sooner you learn to properly accommodate the entire cock, the sooner we’ll consent to feeding you a real one! So take it, bitch! Take it all! Every inch!”

 

Uh, Goddesses, I’m strangling, here! Gagging so violently I can’t even breathe! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! The jerking of my prick and the enormous pain building in my ass drift away, secondary to this life-threatening agony. I can’t even tell whether the flashes of light I’m seeing are more pictures being taken, or just my anoxic brain short-circuiting in its extremity.

 

At last I get a sip of air, then another, and as my head steadies the room stops whirling around me. Somehow I’ve managed to stop gagging, to suppress my body’s instinctive rejection of the foreign object so violently invading it. Goddess’ crotch is banging into my lips and nose now, as she strokes completely in and out of me. But I guess if my tender ass could take this kind of assault earlier, my mouth and throat should be able to handle it now. Meanwhile if anything the paddle-battering on my butt has accelerated. Between the two assaults I rock back and forth on the painful game table, feeling the two sideboards and the heads of all the little soccer players inside galling my bare skin raw.

 

Distantly I hear more cheering and whooping, and then a chant of “Suck, suck, suck, suck, SUCK THAT COCK YOU SLUT!” begins. Over and over, the words hammer at me like another dick, dominating my thinning consciousness entirely. Really, as if sucking were even an option, being skewered like this. But then soon enough an orgasmic shrieking splits the air. The big cock raping my face picks up pace, mimicking the escalating shrieks, and it’s obvious my goddess is approaching her glorious climax. Grimly, I hang onto my sanity until at last she cries out one last piercing wail, shudders all over, and pantingly withdraws.

 

I gasp for breath, sucking at the freer air and feeling those paddles continue to batter relentlessly against me. Then I groan in horror at my beautiful red-haired mistress’ next words.

 

“Who’s up next? Two new paddlers and one new face-fucker needed!”

 

OOOOOhhhh, no! My ordeal isn’t over, it’s just beginning!

 

Indeed. For hours they rotate, two of my mistresses constantly belaboring my bruised-black backside while another one rapes my mouth. Some of them giggle, and take it slowly, meticulously instructing me on the proper way to use my lips and tongue. Others, including my precious Suzi, snarl and gloat, hammering their hard erections down my throat as if determined to make me gag and retch until I puke. However, by the time the twenty-fifth goddess has had a chance to fuck my face until she comes, I’ve become so accustomed to the sensation of having a massive object plunging down my gullet that my gagging days are over for good. I’ve come to think I can accommodate absolutely anything.

 

Apparently my goddesses and mistresses feel the same way. Rather than start the rotation over again at the beginning, the big red-haired headmistress lets out a piercing whistle, and then raises up her arms.

 

Many of the goddesses are now busy fucking each other: lying on the many cushioned benches scattered around and kissing, sucking tongues and nipples and clits, or using their big hard pricks with expert abandon. But at this signal they all leap up with great anticipation.

 

“All right, all right, that’s enough paddling! I now declare Slut-boy here sufficiently broken in! It’s time for the REAL fucking party to begin!”

 

Huh? What’s she talking about? I have a terrible sinking feeling that I know. Some shirked memory of one of Suzi’s earlier gloating threats tries to surface (something about a performance), but once again my conflicted mind shies away from it. Nevertheless, my face starts to burn so furiously that my scalp actually tingles and my entire head swims, as the room boils with excitement and perhaps half my goddesses race up the stairs.

 

Suzi laughs spitefully, deliciously, eyeing my consternation and savoring the anticipation. Soon enough, twice the number of feet begin pounding back down. I crane my neck to look.

 

Oh, no. Oh, shit. It’s all the other ‘broken-in boyfriends’! The other ‘honorary sissy-sisters’ who have preceded me into capture and slavery! Led by their mistresses down the stairs and into the spacious basement by leashes attached to collars around their necks, each well-built male is dressed in frilly feminine lingerie and identical bondage gear. In addition to their collars, each wears a black leather blindfold and perforated ball-gag, and has a shiny metal cock-cage imprisoning his genitals. Around each waist is a wide leather belt, and from this a pair of rather short chains leads to manacles, which lock each wrist within fifteen inches of the sissy’s belly and groin. Yet despite this (and being blindfolded!), each sissy-sister manages to descend the stairs and cross the room without tripping or even stumbling in his high-heeled shoes. They must have had plenty of practice...

 

Dear god, is this what the future holds for me? Endless bondage, imprisonment, and mincing around in female underwear? Stop it, cock! Stop twitching like that! This is terrible, limitlessly degrading! It must be the clothespins, and the wooden ball-hole making me pulse and throb like that. Surely I couldn’t possibly subconsciously want such a thing! And the way my heart is racing, that’s definitely a hundred percent fear. There is no arousal here...

 

Uh-oh. Whatever the distant future holds, I think it’s the immediate that I need to worry about now. The mistresses are lining up all these bound sissies right in front of me! Let’s see, four, five, six, seven, ten of them! Now they’re going down the line, removing each cock cage! They’re....they’re all getting hard! They can’t mean to...

 

“Listen up, sissies!” shouts the headmistress suddenly. “You’re all going to be allowed to ejaculate tonight! That means for the first time in weeks, or even months for the majority of you! I expect you to make the most of this rare opportunity!

 

“As you know, Goddess Katia here has her own kick-ass digital camera. In addition to all the Polaroid snapshots we have, she’s been compiling an extensive portfolio of full-color glossies on each of you. Tonight we’re breaking in a brand new sissy-sister, and we want some extra-super shots of him -- and, incidentally, of all of you. Those of you who behave, and help us out, will be rewarded. Those who don’t... well, you know what will happen to you!”

 

There’s a bunch of giggling and snickering here from the assembled goddesses, and some uneasy shifting from the captive sissies. The headmistress raises her voice again.

 

“Since you’ve all been through it yourselves, you sissies know how this works. Our newest sissy-sister, known now and forever as Slut-boy, lies bound and helpless directly in front of you. I can see by the size of your erections that you’ve figured this out!”

 

Mistress pauses again to let the snickers subside, and my horror blossom. Then she resumes. “We’ve just spent several delightful hours teaching him how to suck cock! Now begins his REAL initiation, the time he must truly confront and embrace the basic bisexuality of all human beings! You will each step up, in turn, and force Slut-boy to service your sex organs orally! While he is doing so, Goddess Katia will take her pictures, and I will flip a coin. If it comes up heads, Slut-boy will swallow! Tails, and you will splatter your stinky, disgusting load all over his face! Got it? Heads swallow; tails splatter! Now then! Let’s teach this little slut what it REALLY means to be a sissy-sister of the Delta Omega Mu sorority!”

 

Ah, no! Jesus, no! They can’t do this to me! No fucking way! I fucking hate faggots!

 

So why is my heart pounding harder than ever, and my dick both bobbing and straining despite its pain? Some terrible submerged conflict is bringing me close to swooning here, as one of the goddesses guides her blindfolded and ball-gagged sissy-slut forward.

 

Suddenly I get a welcome distraction, as Goddess Katia moves up close with her fancy camera. I recognize her right away, from when the goddesses all took their turns face-fucking me.

 

Goddess Katia is surely the most beautiful of them all: petite and yet with huge, exquisitely upswept breasts. At least twice too large for her body size, these just burst through the cupless, silver-spiked black leather bra she wears. Beneath her thick, full, waist-length flood of raven-black hair, her doll-like face has eyes with a hint of fold, suggesting a bit of the Japanese.

 

She was by far the most gentle and teasing of my rapists, urging me to lick lovingly around the head and shaft of her thick ribbed cock and then cupping my head softly with her tiny little hands, when she at last thrust herself all the way in, and pumped her way to an orgasm that had her tight, firm, but incredibly opulent breasts just shiv-shiv-shivering in the most mouthwatering manner imaginable. I’m already deeply in love with her, despite her eager participation in the crimes being done to me. Now she smiles sweetly at me, as the first bound sissy-stud is shoved in my face.

 

“Relax, Slut-boy! You’re going to love this! And you’re going give me some photos that would make Mapplethorp blush!”

 

Nevertheless, I still can’t acquiesce to the urging of both my new beloved and my bizarrely persistent organ. As that first real, pulsing, fully erect penis is pushed into my face I can’t help but duck my head and wince away, trying almost autonomically to escape. Then I hear Goddess Katia sigh, and speak almost regretfully to the mistress behind me.

 

“Okay, Suzi. It looks like our Slut-boy here needs some encouragement.”

 

“Glad to oblige!” gloats my former girlfriend. There is a sudden sinister whistle and explosive CRACK!, and a line of white-hot fire stripes across my ass. The whole world disappears in a flare of agony, and then another and another, as Mistress Suzi slashes into me with her thin, incisive, tightly braided single-tail whip.

 

Those three strokes are more than enough. “All right, all right!” I cry, tears streaming down my face. Then I quell my sobs, lift my head, squeeze shut my eyes and stretch open wide my mouth --  carefully pursing my lips to cover my teeth.

 

“Go on Butt-boy, give it to him!” someone cries, and blindfolded or not, this slave knows how to obey. The short chains give him just enough reach to grab on to the back of my head, which he does. Then he thrusts himself forward. Centuries before I’m ready for it, eight long inches of hot, throbbing cock fill up my mouth and throat.

 

I whimper miserably, trying to ignore the growing secret excitement throbbing throughout my own bound body. As instructed earlier, I use my carefully curved lips and tongue to create a warm, wet, tight little trough for that nasty-smelling organ to slip through. Dimly I hear raucous cheers, jeers, glasses clinking and Katia’s camera clicking, again and again and again, as those strong hands grip steady my head and that hard-and-yet-soft, pulsing hot pole begins stroking pneumatically into and out of me.

 

Despite my earlier training I gag a bit as Butt-boy’s pungent monster chafes my throat. Yet despite its urgent engorgement, this prick is much softer than the plastic and rubber ones my mistresses so gleefully raped me with before, and it’s generally smaller as well. I quickly gain control, and concentrate on turning myself into a mindless receptacle for the horrible insult assaulting me.

 

Once again the girls are chanting “Suck, suck, suck, suck, SUCK THAT COCK YOU SLUT!” It’s actually kind of catchy. And after but five minutes of this, my first experience at real cocksucking, the pace accelerates, and grunts of excitement begin to come from the stud I’m so sloppily servicing. In response, the headmistress suddenly calls out above the noise of the crowd.

 

“All right! You can tell Butt-boy here has been seriously deprived! Here we go: heads or tails -- it is...tails! That means splatter! Come on everybody! Give me an S!”

 

“S!”

 

“Give me a P!”

 

“P!”

 

“Give me an L!”

 

“L!”

 

“Give me an A!”

 

“A!”

 

“Give me a T!”

 

“T!”

 

“Give me another T!”

 

“T!”

 

“Give me an E!”

 

“E!”

 

“Give me an R!”

 

“R!”

 

“What’s that spell?!”

 

“SPLATTER!”

 

“So go on, Butt-boy! Do it! Splatter all over that stupid slut’s face!”

 

Butt-boy, whose groans and rhythm have been building right along with the crescendo in the room, obliges. Suddenly he pulls out, and one of his hands abandons its grip on my head to seize his wet, red, emerging organ.

 

Frantically he keens through his ball-gag, as he pumps and pumps and splurts out an incredible load of scalding, stinking semen straight into my helpless face. Drops and clots and streamers of jizz slap wetly against my nose and lips and chin, my cheeks and brow and even my eyelids, as room-shaking cheers erupt all around and flashbulbs go off everywhere.

 

Katia’s shutter clicks constantly, faithfully documenting every split-second of splatter, as the pungent come hits and drips and runs trickling down my face in a way that simultaneously makes me want to crawl in a hole and die, and wrench my own cock free of its strangling trap so that I can come and come and come explosively with all my soul myself. Yet before I can even try to come to grips with this almost seismic inner upheaval, Butt-boy is being led away, and a sissy named by the crowd as Toy-boy takes his place. Leaving that hot splatter soiling my features, barely giving me a chance to (shudder) lick some of it from my lips, he grabs me by the head and once again thrusts a hot throbbing cock as deep into my mouth as it will go.

 

Once again I’m being brutally face-fucked by an actual male, this one wearing a yellow silk nightie and lacy, split-crotch panties around his enormous organ. And once again I’m caught between revulsion, mortification, and an insane, reluctant, but somehow irrepressible unconscious arousal. By now my cock throbs in its trap like a rotten tooth, and the harder Toy-boy grips my head and rams himself down my throat, the more my own traitor organ strains and burns like mad. And this time, when unmistakable climax approaches and the coin is flipped, I feel a horrifying but undeniable disappointment as once again it comes up tails.

 

Once again my new owners mock me, ridiculing my cheerleader get-up by once again chanting out the spelling of my fate. Once again my rapist pulls out, groans with blessed relief, and shoots out an enormous, stocked-up quantity of come -- perhaps an amount on a par with that currently boiling and churning against the oak in my own too-long-deprived loins. And once again this sticky/slimy seed soaks my horribly ashamed face, while the goddesses cheer, the cameras click, and beer after beer is downed in celebration.

 

Next up steps Sissy-boy, clearly a crowd favorite. ‘She’ is correspondingly decked out in stockings, corset, garters and belts, a form-filled bra and the whole shebang -- everything but panties. Her cock is limp, but amazingly long even in its pale flaccidity. Nevertheless she moves right in, and rubs it against my helpless face, smearing it with come until it thickens, stretches, and slowly climbs to half-mast. Then she threads just the slippery head through my open lips, and merely stands there, waiting.

 

Oh, god, I can’t help myself. I just have to do this. Some dreadful weakness or necessity deep inside me suddenly leaps up and seizes control. I close my lips on that come-covered shaft and start suckling madly, working my cheeks like a reverse-Dizzy Gillespe and scrubbing that sticky purple plum with my tongue. Suddenly starving somehow for that salty, horribly compelling taste, I suck more and more of that long, skinny cock into my mouth, just like a strand of al dente spaghetti -- with sperm sauce, of course. Yet this hot pasta just keeps getting longer and longer the more I suck on it, and hotter and harder as well. At last my need for even more of this tasty degradation utterly swamps my final denial, and I begin to bob my head, hearing the cheers and jeers and cameras clicking, as almost against my will I finally, enthusiastically take an active part in my ongoing emasculation. Obviously entirely out of my mind, I begin vigorously impaling myself, bobbing and slurping and suckling ever more urgently, moaning desperately and squirming my hips, intentionally if futilely pulling on my captured, tortured erection.

 

At last Sissy-boy sighs, catches my pigtails in her lace-gloved fingers, tips my head back and launches herself into rhythm.

 

Now once again I’m the passive receptacle, open and accepting all the way to the belly. Shaved balls slapping my chin, she pumps up an ever more insistent rhythm, and this time -- perhaps because of my recent unprecedented display of depravity -- my dark inner core is finally rewarded. This time, when the grunts and thrusts build to a climax, and the coin is tossed in the air, it comes down heads!

 

This time the cheers are shrieks of glee, and the shouts of the girls as they spell out ‘swallow’ shake the ceiling. Sissy-boy’s ten or more inches stab madly in and out of me in a frantic finale, until she at last grabs onto the back of my head. Mashing it tightly to her bare groin, forcing her spasming, spitting snake of stone into me as deep as humanly possible, she humps against my face and pumps a donated meal directly into my empty, unworthy belly.

 

Once again I’m amazed at my now readily acknowledged disappointment.

 

Could I really want to taste that crap, or feel it shooting out into my suckling mouth, all over my tongue and uvula and roof and palate?

 

Apparently so. Either Suzi and her friends are finally managing to train/brainwash/‘break me in’, or they’re setting free and forcing me to accept some deeply buried strangeness in my own rampant libido. The next time, when the face-fucking honorary sissy-sister at last builds up to his climax, and the coin comes down unhappily tails once again, I’m ready. As soon as my shuddering hot lollipop is taken away, and the essential stuff of the sissy-stud starts to shoot so powerfully out, I stretch my mouth open wide and offer up my tongue, catching as much of that splatter as I can as he moans and groans and pumps it all over my waiting face.

 

Whistles and cheers erupt yet again, glasses clink in the peanut gallery and Goddess Katia’s camera works overtime. Still, much of that splatter spews onto my features, a fresh layer of shame over the crusted trails and jellied remains of those earlier gifts.

 

I don’t care anymore. I just don’t give a shit. I’ll never be able to look myself in the mirror again, but...as long as I can’t escape this, I might as well enjoy it. Through the last five cocks I’m forced to suck off, I grow ever more voracious: madly suckling and servicing them whenever possible, blissfully opening myself and accepting whenever they’re violently driven into me.

 

Twice more I have a condign hot meal pumped into me (the last time as I’d dreamed right into my greedy mouth!), and the other three times I do my best to catch and savor whatever I can before it’s splattered all over my face. I’m actually openly and miserably disappointed when that last hot penis stops spurting onto my tongue, softens despite my frantic attempts to keep sucking some life up into and out of it, and is pulled with a pop! from my vacuuming lips.

 

Celebration and derision shower equally down on me, and at last the bare-breasted, redheaded headmistress leads everyone else present (sissies included, except for me) in one last rousing cheer.

 

“Give me a C!”

 

“C!”

 

“Give me an O!”

 

“O!”

 

“Give me a C!”

 

“C!”

 

“Give me a K!”

 

“K!”

 

“Give me an S!”

 

“S!”

 

“Give me a U!”

 

“U!”

 

“Give me a C!”

 

“C!”

 

“Give me a K!”

 

“K!”

 

“Give me an E!”

 

“E!”

 

“Give me an R!”

 

“R!”

 

“What have we got?”

 

“A MOTHERFUCKING COCKSUCKER!”

 

Suzi screams this last right into my abysmally soiled face, adding her spit to all the come covering it and demeaning me mercilessly. Many, many more pictures are taken of me then, both by Katia herself and by everyone else who wants to add to their extensive collection of Polaroids.

 

Glasses of beer and shots of booze are pounded all around, and several joints are making the rounds. I see hits of ecstasy everywhere, and some girls are even snorting coke or speed.

 

That would seem an odd thing to do at a party’s end. And of course, the party isn’t nearly over yet, despite what seems to me to be a night that has already lasted forever.

 

Apparently all the face-fucking sissy-sisters have earned their reward. Once again the reigning goddess lifts up her voice.

 

“Well done all!”

 

More cheering erupts, persists, but at last she continues.

 

“The veteran sissies have earned their reward! I want the ten of them paired up and led over to the benches! There they will lie down and form up into five sixty-nines! After giving that faggot Slut-boy the easy one, they will now be allowed to take as much time as necessary in order to once again suck each others’ cocks off! And to make it a bit more interesting, each slut’s primary mistress -- that is to say, his former girlfriend -- will stand at either end of the bench and simultaneously fuck the shit out of her little slave’s desperately hungry sissy-pussy!”

 

Bedlam erupts again at this idea, and Mistress is forced to demand attention with another piercing whistle.

 

“That gives us five good foursomes to rotate! Meanwhile, Mistresses Suzi, Katia and I, and the other dozen or so remaining goddesses, will whip, cane, beat, torture, and double-fuck this little Cocksucker Slut-boy here to within an inch of his worthless, pathetic, contemptible excuse for a loser’s life!

 

“Only at dawn will we at last plug their asses and cage up their dicks, lock all our worthless sissies into their bondage bags and ball gags, drag them back up to the attic, and hang them up there like rabid bats until tomorrow night’s party. Right girls? Right on! Now then, let’s all GET IT ON! Let the outrageous orgy begin!!”

 

Screams of excitement shiver the air, but once again I’m foundering in agonized disbelief.

 

What? No reward for me? Not even after I successful transformed myself into such a shamefully insatiable little cocksucker? Won’t they even untape my deadwood arms, unclip those clothespins or (dare I beg it) let me off this agonizing foosball table?

 

Not a fucking chance, Slut-boy. You heard her. Not until dawn, and then it’s straight into a bondage bag.

 

I groan uncontrollably. But then in my despair a new and exciting thought strikes, and it strikes me harder than any paddle, whip, dildo or prick so far.

 

Perhaps this is a reward, and a wonderful one at that: being allowed to serve my many lovely goddesses with my lowly mouth and bung, and with every square centimeter of my body’s tender flesh, to their mad insatiable hearts’ delight. Really now, why not let them constantly and extravagantly degrade, rape and torture me, if it gives them (and now, increasingly, me!) such transcendent fulfillment? After all, it’s not like I have any choice here. And so somehow I finally make the enormous accommodations necessary in order to reconcile myself to my strange, yet exciting new damnation.

 

If this is to be my destiny, if I have been chosen at eighteen to suffer and serve under such gleefully sadistic superior beings, then let me take my satisfaction from the agony and humiliation itself. Let me wallow in the unholy arousal that overwhelms me as they beat me, humiliate me, or stab their mighty phalluses so deeply, painfully, and self-righteously into me. I may never enter a woman again, nor achieve the simple orgasm I so crave; perhaps my pounding erection will never even be free of the implacable grip that so cruelly traps it and jerks it and chokes it off right now. But in the cries of ecstasy and apotheosis that regularly peal from my many goddesses’ lovely throats, and in the convulsive shudders of climax and release that shiver their unbelievably bodies and jiggle their heavenly breasts, I may find some solace better yet.

 

Or at least earn the right to suck more cocks and eat more come! As the other sissy-sisters eagerly invert, link up and begin to feed and devour each other, and as their mistresses spread wide their cheeks, slide in their cocks, and begin to hammer home their rightful due, I watch my own bevy of goddesses approach me with a swoony mix of worshipful awe, crushing humility, irrepressible desire and crippling, involuntary fear.

 

The anticipation as Headmistress’ cock approaches my face is as dreadfully delicious to me as that last hot clot of thick, salty sperm smearing across my tongue. Meanwhile Mistress Suzi wrenches the huge plug from my brutally battered ass -- lining up the club that began all this fun -- and Goddess Katia and the other dozen or so divinities surround me with their various nefarious weapons held at the ready. But before those beautiful big cocks can begin stabbing into my gaping open ends, and the whips and canes, quirts and crops and whatnot can begin to endlessly rise and descend, I, Cocksucker Slut-boy, newest DOM sissy-sister, gasp out a feverish address through bated breath to all of my reigning deities.

 

“Oh, my goddesses, thank you so much for choosing me! I love you all so fucking much! My glorious, gorgeous, beautiful, wonderful, powerful, absolutely omnipotent GODDESSES! Oooooohh! Take my worthless soul from me, please! I beg you, my goddesses, keep my body and spirit in eternal subjugation, use and abuse your sissy little Slut-boy this way until the very end of time! Please? I’m wholly and completely, now and forever your desperately devoted if disgustingly contemptible eternal personal property!”

 

Jaws drop everywhere at this slavish outpouring. Then, laughing gleefully in evil triumph, my personal pantheon needs hear no more. Fifteen ravishing, ravening goddesses fall upon me from all sides: gladly, eagerly, nay overzealously accepting my groveling, utterly abject flesh and blood and freely forfeited soul.

 

Go, my glorious goddesses! Go, go, go, GO, GOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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