Chapter 26: Forced Orgasm
The Lopsided Contest
Well, I’ve finally mustered up the courage to tell you about final degradations I suffered at the hands of the ruthless evildoers from Roosevelt High. What follows will be difficult to recount, as the level of humiliation reached heights I never thought possible. I doubt I’ll ever fully recover.
When I left off, we were in the poolroom and they had just finished measuring my penis, which had shrunken considerably after I was forced to tread water in our cold swimming pool. Spirits were high, drinks were flowing, and the gang was in full-on party mode—giddy, loud, and, as you’re about to see, emboldened.
The poolroom was fairly spacious and nicely furnished. Besides the furniture, there was a full-sized pool table, a stereo system, and even a bar. Loud music and general merriment filled the room—except for one dissenter. That would be the naked sixteen-year-old boy, whose state of humiliation was already extreme, and who could sense that things were about to escalate.
“How about a game of 8-ball?” suggested Julie, casually sliding a cue stick from the rack.
“I wanna play!” chimed in Felicity, grabbing one for herself. "Oh, this is going to be so much
fun."
Julie smirked. “I’ve got an idea—let’s play girls versus boys. Felicity and me against Blondie and Mitch.”
Everyone seemed excited about the idea. Everyone, that is, except me. I groaned inwardly. Once again, I would be taking an active part in my humiliation.
“What are the stakes?” asked Brenda with a devilish glint in her eye. "Come on, they need something worth playing for."
For a moment, there was silence while their mischievous minds worked actively.
“I know!" Julie’s eyes lit up. All heads turned toward her—most with anticipation, mine with dread. “The losing team has to give each other a big, wet kiss on the lips.” The room exploded with gasps and laughter. “And I don’t mean a little peck,” Julie added over the noise. “I mean serious tongue action, thirty seconds minimum.”
"Oh my God, yes!" Brenda shrieked. "That's perfect!"
"Julie, you're evil," Becky laughed. "I love it!"
Once again there was a boisterous response, the energy in the room ratcheting up another notch. I glanced furtively at Mitch, who to my disgust was staring at me, grinning lecherously, his eyes roaming over my naked body. “All right then, let the games begin,” he said. To my chagrin he gave my bare ass an overly friendly pat as he stepped toward the cue sticks. He returned with two sticks and handed me one of them, grinning freely.
“You break, Blondie,” Julie announced, racking the balls expertly.
I stepped up to the table and closed my eyes tightly, pressing my fist to my forehead, trying to psych myself up. Under normal circumstances, I would regard myself as a halfway decent pool player. But let’s face it—naked, humiliated, and staring down the prospect of a forced lip-lock with Mitch, I was far from my comfort zone. Still, I knew I had to try. I certainly would much rather see the two sisters in a lip lock than have to face the same fate with Mitch.
I shuddered at the thought of the latter scenario and leaned over the cue ball in preparation to break. I heard the giggling and blushed ever so brightly in self-consciousness. Through it all, I managed to break the rack decisively, the balls spreading impressively across the table. I heard a ball drop in a side pocket.
"Ooh, nice break," Felicity said, leaning over and peeking into the pocket in such a way that I couldn't help but be reminded of a similar motion she made earlier that night, when she leaned over and peeked into the panties I was wearing.
God, that seems like ages ago.
“Solids,” she announced, waving the two-ball in the air before placing it back in the side pocket. I scanned the table—there were at least three decent shots available. The seven-ball in the corner pocket looked like the easiest, and the one that could easily set me up for my next two shots. I leaned over again, and just as I was going into my forward motion with the shot, Julie reached between my legs from behind and playfully tickled my balls.
“Aagh!” I yelped, jumping upright and nearly dropping the cue stick. I had barely contacted the cue ball, moving it only a couple of inches. Everyone laughed heartily while I blushed deeper.
"Oops. That's a scratch," Julie laughed as she readied her cue stick and surveyed the table.
Julie proceeded to surprise everyone by revealing herself as an absolute pool shark. “Eleven, corner,” she called, knocking it in expertly. She coolly chalked her cue stick while appraising her next shot. “Nine, side pocket, back this way,” she called. I looked on dejectedly as she banked in the nine-ball effortlessly. It became obvious why she was willing to commit to the stakes. “Fourteen, corner.” Boom, slam-dunk. “Twelve, other corner.” No problem. “Ten, side pocket.” Done. She chalked again, taking her time, savoring the moment. “Fifteen, corner.” Bam, she slammed it home. Only the thirteen, then the eight were left. But the thirteen was blocked by a couple of solid balls, so she really had no shot. She missed, leaving me with a faint glimmer of hope.
“Sorry, little sis,” she said to Felicity.
“No problem, you were amazing,” Felicity replied with a kiss on her sister’s cheek. She turned to me, grinning. “That’s the only kissing
we’ll be doing tonight,” she added. Laughter rang out again.
The smiling Mitch lined up his shot. The four-ball was leaning against the near corner, seemingly begging to get knocked in. But he chose a much more difficult shot. I should have known that I wouldn’t get any cooperation from him, not when the stakes were what they were. “Seven, one bank, all the way back,” he called. And, of course, he didn’t come close. Not only that, but he also left a very simple shot at the thirteen-ball for Felicity, and the eight-ball was ominously close to the other corner pocket.
“Oh, this is just too easy,” said Felicity, grinning gleefully as she circled the table. “Thirteen... on my thirteenth birthday... in the corner.” She wasn’t as skilled as her sister, but she didn’t have to be. A novice could have made that shot, and she did so, easily. Felicity and the eight-ball were all that stood in the way of my destiny with Mitch. I lowered my head miserably, as the shot was even easier than her last one.
“Eight-ball, corner pocket,” she sang melodically.
The room was quiet in anticipation, and Felicity, with her now-recognized flair for drama, let the moment draw out. She calmly chalked her cue stick, then blew the excess chalk in my direction with a light blow on the tip. She looked up at me, then at Mitch, and grinned broadly. She then broke the silence with an age-old schoolyard chant: “Mitch and Blondie, sitting in a tree,” she sung. “K-I-S-S-I-N-G.” She slowly circled the table, eyeing the shot from all angles. It was simply for effect, since the simplicity of the shot required no strategy. “First comes love... then comes marriage... then comes Blondie in a
baby carriage!”
While everyone laughed, she leaned over the shot, staring down the barrel of her cue stick. Then, to everyone’s approval (save mine, of course), she authoritatively slammed her stick into the cue ball and watched with satisfaction as the eight-ball thumped against the back of the pocket and dropped from sight.
The room erupted with applause, laughter, and whooping cheers. I stood in stunned silence, my eyes locked on the table. Seven solid balls still sat there, a clear indication of how I was bamboozled. Of course, the way the evening had gone, I should not have expected any other outcome.
“Come on, you two, pay up,” prompted Felicity impatiently. “Winners eat dinners, losers are smoochers.” The silliness brought more laughter from the drunken group. Obviously at this point it didn’t take much to amuse the revelers.
The Kiss
Mitch was already stepping toward me, much too eagerly.
“Hang on a sec!” Becky hurried over to the stereo and flipped through the CD collection. “Ah, here we go. The
Final Jeopardy theme. This is
perfect. It’s exactly thirty seconds long.” I groaned, bemoaning the day I whimsically purchased a CD comprised of several television theme songs.
“You’d better cooperate, Blondie,” Brenda warned. “Thirty seconds, and act like you mean it. We want to see some passion. Ready... go!”
The music began. ♬ Duh-duh, duh-duh, duh-duh-duh... ♬
“It’s just you and me, Blondie boy,” Mitch said, stepping in close and pressing his lips to mine.
“Ew, gross!” shrieked Felicity, but she didn't mean it.
Suffice it to say, the next thirty seconds were among the most unpleasant I’ve ever experienced. Right from the get-go Mitch’s enthusiasm was unfettered. To my disgust, his tongue met mine and darted around the confines of my mouth with reckless abandon, exploring with an aggression that made me want to gag. I was most repulsed when he placed his hands on my bare ass and started rhythmically grinding his midsection against mine. I felt the unmistakable evidence of his pleasure pressing against my lower abdomen through the fabric of his trousers. The girls were howling with laughter—hooting, gasping, egging him on. I squeezed my eyes shut, face burning, and endured. It felt like the music would never end.
At long last, the final note played. I recoiled instantly. The girls were cheering raucously. I opened my eyes and was met by Mitch’s flushing, grinning face. His hands were still clutching my ass, and I managed to squirm free, but not before suffering through one last pelvic thrust from the impassioned aggressor.
“Oh Blondie, you’re such a tease,” Mitch taunted. As I backed away, I couldn’t avoid noticing the engorged protrusion in his khakis, which only added to my revulsion. The girls followed my gaze, and then, seemingly in concert with each other, turned their gazes to
my penis, which had remained in its small, flaccid state.
"Looks like someone enjoyed that more than someone else," Julie laughed
"Poor Blondie. Not exactly rising to the occasion, are we?" Brenda added, and the giggling started all over again.
The Dildo
“I’ve got an idea!” Becky suddenly shrieked, her eyes lighting up. Without another word, she bolted from the poolroom and took off running out the door. “I’ll be right back!” she called over her shoulder as she disappeared into the house.
Everyone turned to watch her go, curiosity and anticipation thick in the air. Whatever devious scheme my sister had just cooked up, we all knew it wasn’t going to be good for me. I bowed my head, already bracing myself for whatever fresh humiliation was headed my way.
It didn’t take long. The door swung open just minutes later, and Becky marched back in, slightly winded but grinning devilishly. In her hand, she clutched a small pink hand towel, wrapped tightly around some mystery object. Without a word, she strode over to the pool table and laid the bundle down on the green felt. The item remained hidden in the towel, but her impish grin spoke volumes.
Rather than reveal it right away, she turned her attention to me. “You’ve been putting on such a nice little show for us tonight, sweetie,” she said. “It’d be a real shame to stop now. You’re on such a roll.” With maddening slowness, she began to unroll the towel. She kept her eyes locked on mine, drawing out the suspense for her expectant audience. “You’ve already shown us how much you care about Mitch,” she teased, the towel falling away inch by inch. “And we’ve all seen that you know how to kiss.” The towel was nearly open now, revealing just a hint of what lay beneath. “But do you know how to
suck? That is the question.”
The room went momentarily still as a cream-colored dildo emerged. It was roughly seven inches long, moderately thick, and it resembled a real penis disturbingly well. Becky held it high in the air, turning it this way and that for the benefit of her thrilled audience.
“Oh, Becky, you little
devil, you!” roared her best friend Brenda.
"Jesus, that's bigger than my
boyfriend's," Cheryl said, and the room broke into fresh peals of laughter.
Becky held the dildo up to my face and laid out her very unpleasant instructions.
“Let’s play a little pretend game, Blondie. Here, take this.” I reached out with trembling fingers and took the loathsome thing, staring at it as if it was a lethal snake.
"Now, I'd like you to pretend that it's your partner Mitch," she continued. Guffaws rang through the room, loud and raucous. I glanced cautiously at Mitch and was chagrined to see him grinning lewdly at me. My eyes shot back at his "pretend" penis, and I felt my face burning with shame. I was in the throes of wretchedness.
Becky wasn't finished. “Pretend you’re horny, Blondie, and you just
love licking and sucking Mitch’s big dick. You can't
wait to get it in your mouth, to please him. You want to bring him to an orgasm, but you want to draw it out, because you love it so much.” The laughter and my mortification increased. “So start out nice and slowly, then build up the momentum and bring him to a raging climax.”
She paused, waiting for me to begin the degrading act. But I couldn’t quite compel myself to do her bidding, so she coerced me by taking my hand and lifting the dildo to my lips. “Come on, sweetheart. Mitch is waiting. Stick out your tongue and start licking it. Show him what he's been missing."
I took a deep breath and started licking the dildo, much to the delight of my cheering, laughing tormentors.
“That’s it, princess,” Becky prompted, her hand still hovering near mine. “Lick it all the way up and down. Get it nice and wet. Now kiss it. Come on, give it some nice, tender kisses. Make love to it with your mouth. Mitch will love it.”
With extreme reluctance I followed Becky’s directions, alternating between licking and kissing the dreaded dildo while my audience roared their approval.
Brenda was the culprit who helped advance my present state of mortification. “Blondie, you’re not getting very excited, are you? Look at this little thing,” she said, reaching out and pinching my penis between her thumb and forefinger. The surprise intrusion caused me to retract my hips and let out a high-pitched yelp, much to everyone's hilarity.
In my shock, I had lowered the dildo from my mouth, an error Brenda corrected immediately. “Did I tell you to stop, Blondie?” she giggled, her grip on me unyielding. “Keep licking. Mitch is getting very hot.” I went back to licking the dildo under everyone's watchful eyes.
“Put it in your pretty little mouth,” Becky instructed. “Start sucking on the head. That’s it... now lick the shaft. Good. Now suck again. Oh, you’ve got the hang of it, princess. Lick and suck, lick and suck. You’re a natural at giving head, I must say. Oh, Mitch is
loving it.”
The laughter was relentless as I carried out the shameful charade. Then, just when I foolishly believed my humiliation had peaked, the wickedly imaginative Felicity managed to take it to another level. “I wonder how big Blondie’s little pee-pee actually gets when he's excited?” she mused. Leave it to the young fiend from hell to open a new can of worms.
“Well,” Brenda responded, “I read somewhere the average is about five and a half inches. I seriously doubt our little friend here can even get
close to that. What do you think, girls?"”
“Um,” said Felicity with her hand on her chin as if in deep thought. “Maybe we should find out,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. The room erupted as the group grasped her implication.
“Oh
yes,” agreed Brenda, “We really need to find out. I’ll bet it’s not much more than five inches, if that. Probably closer to four, I'd bet.”
“Okay, okay, here’s the deal,” said the keyed-up Felicity. Her fertile mind seemed to always be working, and it never failed to be to my detriment. “If Blondie’s little penis in his excited state is five inches or more, then he wins, and we’ll let him get dressed and go on his... not so merry way.
But... if it’s
less than five inches he... let me think about this for a second... I’ve got it! If it’s
less than five inches he has to perform for us by playing with his little toy until he spurts.”
Explosive cheers of amusement and agreement followed. The "toy" in question was no longer the dildo, it was me.
“Please, no...” I pleaded, the dildo slipping from my lips.
“Lick and suck, lick and suck!” Becky barked. I obeyed her unrelenting order. She then picked up the pink hand towel and wrapped it around my eyes. She knotted it tightly behind my head, creating an effective blindfold. I momentarily stopped activity with the dildo, which brought on another admonition from Becky.
“I’m not going to tell you again, Blondie—you keep sucking on Mitch’s love muscle until he comes.” Everyone laughed, and I flushed brighter.
There was a minute of two of total silence, save for the small slurping sounds I was making with the dildo. I thought I might have heard some whispering.
Then... it started.
Sexual Arousal
I felt a set of fingers caressing my hair, lightly massaging my scalp. I had no idea who it was. Within moments, two other sets of fingers began stroking my nipples, and another began a light, teasing caress across my ribs and stomach. It was stimulating, undeniably so, and it was all I could do to keep from becoming erect. I was really hoping I could stay limp and avoid further humiliation.
But then I felt someone else—though to this day I can't say who was doing what—slide up behind me, pressing their body against my back. A wet tongue began licking my right ear and probing deep into my ear canal. Simultaneously, two more hands began stroking the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, creeping upward. Then a second tongue began exploring my other ear. The sensation was exquisite, and much to my chagrin, I felt myself growing aroused.
I caught the sound of a couple of stifled giggles, followed by a whispered “shh.” I remember thinking what a sight I must have been, dutifully sucking on a dildo while trying unsuccessfully to stave off the inevitable hard-on. To make matters worse, I was pretty sure someone was filming a video of the extraordinary scene.
My situation was growing bleaker by the second. I felt a tongue tracing slow circles around my nipples before gradually working its way down my ribs. Meanwhile, someone—
please, not Mitch!—began to gently cradle and caress my balls, rolling them with a delicate touch that made my hips jerk involuntarily. There was no turning back now—I had a full-fledged hard-on. Once again, I heard stifled giggles nearby.
The tongue found its way to my genitals and began licking my balls with long, slow strokes. I felt my penis standing straight up. The tongue—
God, please don’t be Mitch!—slowly, teasingly slid up and down the shaft of my penis. Whoever it was, she (I'm sticking with "she") knew what she was doing. When the tip of her tongue expertly explored my frenulum I involuntarily began rotating my hips and moaning softly around the rubber cock still filling my mouth.
I heard more giggling. Then I felt a mouth—I tried to imagine it belonging to Cheryl—engulfing my whole penis. For the first time in my life, I was getting a blow job. Never did I imaging that my first experience receiving oral sex would be tremendously humiliating, but that was indeed my sorry situation.
Then Becky whispered loudly in my ear, even as someone else continued licking and probing it with their tongue. “Suck faster, Blondie. Mitch is getting close. Don't you dare leave him hanging. Faster! Faster!”
To the sounds of more muffled giggles, I attacked the dildo with more fervor. The slurping sounds grew louder, wetter, coinciding with the slurping sounds coming from my own penis. Both my head and hips were moving back and forth at a furious pace. Tongues explored my ears, another mouth was caressing my chest and stomach with nibbling kisses, and someone—maybe the same person who was giving me head, maybe not—was teasing my balls with their fingers. The sensation was overwhelming, and I was on the verge of exploding.
My sister somehow sensed as much.
“STOP!” yelled Becky.
And they did. Becky removed the blindfold, and every mouth, every hand, every tongue withdrew in the same instant, leaving me gasping. I also stopped, pulling the dildo from my mouth. I was left on the edge of climax, caught in a strange paradox. Physically, it was pure frustration—but psychologically and emotionally, giving in to orgasm at their hands (and mouths) would have only deepened my humiliation.
Another Measurement
“Time for a measurement!” Felicity declared, snatching the measuring tape from the top of the bar.
“Yes!” Cheryl chimed in. “Let’s see if Blondie has to finish the job right here in front of us—or if he can save it for the privacy of his bedroom. Though, from what I'm looking at, I think Blondie's going to be putting on a show for us.”
The giggling group swarmed around me in excited anticipation, while I prayed silently that I would somehow “measure up.” I honestly wasn’t sure if I would or not. It had been a few months since I had last measured myself. Then, I topped out at four and a half inches. I told myself I must have grown. I
had to have grown.
Felicity eagerly stretched the tape along the length of my shaft. I glanced down at the “tale of the tape,” and my heart sank.
“It’s only four and a half inches!” Felicity squealed, to everyone’s glee.
“You lose, Blondie,” Becky sang cheerily. “Now we get to see your grand performance. Do you think you can spurt some juice out of that little thing?”
The room erupted in laughter. Their excitement was through the roof. Felicity rubbed her palms together and bounced up and down like a child, grinning from ear to ear.
My Naked Performance
“Let’s see,” Becky mused. “You’re going to need a proper stage for this performance.” She grabbed a large beach towel from a shelf and spread it over the felt of the pool table. Patting the surface, she added, “Hop up here, sweetie pie, so we can all get a better look.”
I briefly buried my face in my hands before lifting a knee to climb onto the table. I tried to hand Becky the dildo, but she wasn’t having it. She pushed it back toward me firmly.
“No-no-no, you need that," she insisted. "You've got poor Mitch all worked up, and he really needs you to make him cum.” Dismally, I started climbing up onto the pool table, dildo in hand. "Besides, I think you look
adorable with that cock in your mouth."
To the sounds of unbridled laughter, I stood up on the pool table, suddenly elevated above everyone else and completely on display. I could see all of them now, their faces turned upward, grinning with unmistakable amusement and anticipation.
“Blondie promised he’d dance for me on my birthday,” Felicity declared. “I think we should have Blondie dance for us while he makes himself spurt.”
I winced, the mental image almost too much to bear, and Becky let out a delighted laugh.
"Oh, what a brilliant idea!" she exclaimed. "A naked dance on the pool table while sucking on Mitch and getting himself off. Now
that will be a spectacle!” She spun toward the stereo, rifling through CDs. “Marcia, make sure you get this on video. It’ll be priceless footage.”
Becky popped in a disc. “Alright, big boy, it’s showtime. This is your grand finale, so you’d better make it good.” She hit the play button and the high-energy opening of
I’m So Excited by the Pointer Sisters blasted through the speakers. Becky jacked up the volume. "And remember—if you stop dancing, we stop the music. And if we stop the music, the video goes to everyone in your contact list."
I started dancing, albeit slowly and half-heartedly. My dignity had long since vanished, but this... this was a new low.
The room was echoing with laughter and hoots of delight. “Faster, Blondie! Come on, shake it!” Julie shouted. I tried to pick up the pace, though it was painfully clear my heart wasn’t in it.
"Come on, Blondie, move it! Show us what you've got!" Becky jeered, clapping along with the beat. "Work those hips!"
“Suck Mitch’s cock, Blondie, suck it!” Brenda yelled. I had forgotten about the dildo in my hand. I raised it to my mouth and again simulated oral sex on the fake penis. “Suck faster, Blondie!” continued the relentless Brenda. “Mitch is ready to explode! Suck that dick like you mean it!”
“Spank that little monkey, Blondie!” ordered Becky. "Let's see some action down there! Mitch shouldn't be the only one having fun!"
My penis had shrunk to half-mast since the group stimulation ended just minutes before. I knew it would be tough to get that excited again under the circumstances, with every eye in the room fixed on my shame, but I had the grim feeling the ordeal wouldn’t end until I managed to climax.
I took my penis in my hand and started playing with myself. Slowly, I felt the warmth beginning to build again, even while in the depths of humiliation. My hips began to move, the dildo filled my mouth, and my hand worked my cock. I was giving them exactly what they wanted.
Becky sauntered toward me, holding a small brown bottle. “Hold out your hand!” she commanded. I obeyed, my palm upturned, and she squeezed a generous, warm puddle of suntan oil into my palm. The scent of coconut permeated the room.
“Stroke that little weenie, Blondie!" ordered my sister.
I wrapped my fingers around myself, and despite the humiliation, the lubricant’s touch sent a jolt of sensation through me, and I felt myself hardening.
“Keep dancing, Blondie! And
suck that dick! Go Blondie! Go Blondie!”
I stroked, I danced, and I sucked. The cheering and laughing swelled.
“You’re not dancing fast enough, Blondie! Faster!” Becky screamed.
“Dance, Blondie! Faster!” Brenda echoed.
I forced my hips to move just a little quicker, but my performance was halfhearted. Words can’t do justice to the humiliation I felt that moment.
While six gleeful girls were cheering me on, completely lost in the hilarity, Mitch lurked behind the bar, which was conveniently shielding his activity. It was obvious he was pleasuring himself. He looked at me lustfully, and I quickly turned my head away in disgust.
Then Becky’s tone shifted. Evidently I wasn't dancing fast enough for her. “All right, that does it,” she said, marching to the wall and snatching a wooden canoe oar off its hook. My eyes went wide. It didn’t take a genius to understand what was coming. I braced myself for the blow, but no amount of mental preparation on my part could have mitigated the pain I was about to experience.
“I said FASTER!” The loud smacking sound of wood meeting flesh and the word “faster” were simultaneous. I yelped, the pain flashing through me like a bolt of lightning. Becky held the oar up menacingly. “Do I need to tell you again?”
I needed no further encouragement. I started dancing like a maniac. Hell, I was practically jumping up and down from the
pain. I moved at a frenetic pace, and the rhythm of the sucking and stroking motions naturally increased likewise. The group was now laughing hysterically, caught up in a wild frenzy.
I couldn’t resist glancing at Mitch again, despite my better judgment. His movements had grown more urgent, his hand working faster, his eyes locked on to me, much to my repugnance.
I couldn’t let that get to me. I had to cum. I had to end this nightmare. I was getting very close, and I pumped away frantically.
Becky, sensing the moment, turned the volume up full blast, almost drowning out the cheering and laughter. The Pointers were at a fever pitch, the lyrics taunting me like a cruel joke.
♬
I'm so excited! I just can't hide it! I'm about to lose control, and I think I like it—yeah! ♬
And it was right then that I lost control, but I don’t think I liked it. I stopped dancing, and my body stiffened, my back arching as the pleasure momentarily eclipsed the humiliation.
Without thinking, I dropped my left hand, my fingers releasing their grip on the dildo, but I left it dangling from my mouth. The group's laughter swelled, but I barely heard them. I was too focused on the sensation surging through me. I pumped furiously with my right hand, and the juices flowed.
“WOO-HOO!” they shrieked, some stomping their feet, clapping their hands in rhythm with the music, their faces alight with cruel delight.
I continued to pump, my body trembling. I was completely absorbed in the moment, in my fulfillment.
“YEAH, BABY! YOU GO, BLONDIE! WOOOOO!” Their voices were a cacophony of taunts and cheers.
By the time the song hit its final note, the last drops of my release dribbled out, and I collapsed onto my hands and knees, the dildo flopping onto the towel beneath me. I was utterly spent from my orgasm and the hideous humiliation I had endured. My arms were shaking, and beads of sweat dripped from my forehead. The music had faded, and for a second, the room was silent.
And then, from behind the bar, a long, low moan slipped out.
My sister's voice rang out. “Congratulations, Blondie, you did it—you got Mitch off!”
While the room erupted into laughter, Becky tossed me a robe, her grin wide and malicious. As the group filed out, she delivered one last parting shot. “Oh—don’t make any plans for tomorrow night, sweetie. We’ll all be back to watch the video, and we’ll need someone to serve drinks and hors d’ oeuvres." She grinned mischievously. “Nothing fancy—you can come as you are.”
Their laughter faded into the night, but it echoed in my ears long after the door closed behind them. I wrapped the robe around my shoulders and stared blankly at my drying semen on the towel. The sense of desolation was overwhelming, and the tears I’d been holding back finally spilled out, my quiet whimpers quickly escalating into loud, uncontrollable sobs. The hopelessness hit me full force, and I couldn't stop it.
I rued the day I enrolled at Roosevelt High—the place where all my humiliations had begun.
Epilogue
Two weeks later, I was finally starting to claw my way out of the doldrums. And yes, I had to submit to them again the following night. I won’t go into details, but they had their way with me once more. They made me strip naked, save for a pair of black bunny ears and a pair of black heels. I served drinks while my most shameful moments played out on the big screen. They reveled in my torment with sadistic delight as they watched me relive that horrible night all over again.
I don't know what the future holds, but one thing is certain: I will never forget. I may not yet know how I'll do it, but I'm determined to exact revenge on every last one of my tormentors. Their day of reckoning will come. When it does, they'll regret everything they put me through.
I can hardly wait.
End
