The Edge of Consent

"What did you say, whore?"

"Fuck me," I repeated shakily, arching my back to lift up my ass.

Much to my shame, an involuntary squeal of pleasure escaped my lips when I felt his thick shaft sliding up the valley of my butt. I gasped when the bulb of his cock slid down not to my waiting slit but my clenched asshole. When I tried to wriggle away his strong hands on my hips trapped me in place. In desperation my hand shot back towards his crotch, guiding his cock down instead to the entrance of my wet pussy.

"Please... fuck my c-cunt." I hung my head in defeat.

Luckily, he did not insist on plundering my tight anal passage, plunging his engorged member into my pussy- my... my cunt. My surrender seemed to inflame his passion further, and gripping my shoulders for traction, he started laying into my pussy with an almost animalistic frenzy, his body slapping obscenely into the back of my thighs with every thrust.

On my elbows, the savage fucking made the pearl necklace around my neck sway to the rhythm of the thrusts. Though I was blindfolded, the feeling of the smooth pearls sliding against my skin was a shameful reminder, anchoring me to my real self and preventing me from disappearing into ecstatic fantasy where I was just a nameless, anonymous slut. I was Julia, my Ama's necklace reminded me every time it bumped into my collarbone, and these people, more likely than not, knew who I was. It was, in truth, more humiliating than any collar could have. At that moment I detested Woody, for always knowing which buttons to push, but more than that, myself for being a slut. His slut.

On an impulse, my hand shot up to clutch at the necklace to stop the swaying, which elicited a bark of laughter from Mr. Thomas.

"I have to give it to you, Woody boy. The necklace was a nice touch." He reached forward and wrenched my hand back. "But whores like you, little munchkin, wear a different kind of pearl necklace."

He pulled out of me and easily flipped me onto my back. I started when I heard him straddle my chest and felt his veiny cock, still slimy with my pussy juices settle itself in the valley between my breasts.

"Push your tits together, bitch."

When I reluctantly obeyed, he began titfucking me, his cock bumping occasionally into my chin. I had never been titfucked before. I'd always assumed that it was for women with larger boobs than mine. It was as dehumanizing as anything that's been inflicted on me tonight. I was a piece of fuckmeat, furniture that he just happened to be frotting against. Worse, his position astride my chest meant his legs pinned my arms to the carpet, putting the tips of my fingers frustratingly out of reach of my clit.

His cock sliding vigorously between my breasts, he didn't take long to finally cum, spurting warm jizz all over my chest and neck. I felt some pool in the hollow of my throat, but the rest of it trickled down the sides of my neck, where it congealed against the pearls of my grandmother's necklace.

"Nowthat's the pearl necklace a slut should wear," he said as he clambered off me and inserted his softening penis into my mouth. Reflexively I began sucking it, tasting my own juices and his. He gave a satisfied groan and wiped his flaccid cock over my lips.

Tears of humiliation stung my covered eyes. My blindfold had by then been soaked all through, sticking to my eyelids. In this moment of despair it felt almost as much a part of my face as my nose or ears.

The respite was a short one, and I soon felt another cock at my pussy lips. In the ensuing gang bang a succession of cock after anonymous cock pounded furiously into me. When I felt a cock nudge against my lips I sucked on it without protest, though some simply held my head in place as they fucked my face. Thankfully, however, none seemed interested in more than teasing my puckered entrance to my asshole, drenched as it was with my pussy juices. I lost count after the fourth or fifth cock as I was consumed by a haze of arousal, riding from an uncontrollable climax to the next. I must have cum at least half a dozen times.

After... fifteen minutes? an hour? it finally began to wind down, as the last man pulled out and came with a roar, his cum joining the rest coating my belly and breasts. I felt sore and thankful that my ordeal was over, but also sated in the afterglow of my multiple orgasms.

The party, however, was not over, but simply moved into low gear as the room gained an air of post-coital conviviality. I was led to a corner, where I knelt, the congealing semen on my body slipping down my shaven crotch to drip on the carpeted floor. The necklace was resting on my shoulder blades. Sometime when I was on my back, the necklace had slipped backwards so that it hung between my shoulder blades. The pearls, stuck to the front of my neck with dried semen, felt like I was wearing a collar.

As if on cue, I felt someone tug lightly at the necklace from behind. "Come, whore," a voice said. I heard the sounds of a football match in the background as I was passed around, sucking semi-erect penises back to hardness as the strangers watched the game or carried out conversations. On some of their cocks I tasted a hint of my own juices, and blushed at the memory. Throughout they paid me no mind, only occasionally deigning to give me terse instructions. In a way, it was even more humiliating than it had been when I had been overwhelmed by their desire, instead of merely a pleasant distraction. I felt a fresh rush of shame when I realized I craved their attention. I pushed the thought to the back of my head and focused on blowing the cock in my mouth, and did not stop when I heard someone beside us.

"...so, I hear you're getting your Master's degree soon?" he said casually, as if he wasn't getting a blowjob. A pause. "Oh, don't worry about her, Woody's done a good job. She knows what she is. You used to be her teacher at St. George's, right?"

My heart skipped a beat, and I froze mid-stroke.

"Yeah, maths, eighth grade. I'd never have guessed she'd turn out to be such a raging whore."

A face flashed before my shrouded eyes – bespectacled and unassuming, with mousy hair and a wispy goatee.Mr. Robson. I remember him being well-intentioned but completely unable to control his class. I had been one of his better students.

"It's always the quiet ones," the man whose cock I was sucking said, stroking my hair fondly. "Keep sucking, Ms. Chang. Oh yes, we know exactly who you are, Julie," he added when I gave a muffled cry. Very few people from my childhood have ever called me 'Ms. Chang'.

I could not help but sob in humiliation as I processed this revelation that the sliver of anonymity I had clung to all night had been a sham. When I tried to pull away, the man who I now knew was the janitor at my old high school instead pushed my head towards his crotch, ramming his shaft down my throat in one stroke.

"Did you think that blindfold would hide your identity, little slut? That none of us would recognize Henry Chang's little girl the moment you came in?" He punctuated his taunting with forceful thrusts that pushed it deeper into my throat with every stroke. I gagged, my throat constricting painfully around his invading cock. I was sure I was going to puke, but fortunately he tensed up and came first, pushing incrementally deeper in with every orgasmic jerk. I felt his load slide down my gullet, though I was thankful he came so deep in me that I didn't have to taste it.

When he released me I fell on my elbows, gasping and choking at his feet. "I thought... I thought you were my friend," I rasped shakily.

"Tonight, slut, we're all your friends," he replied glibly, though I thought I detected a hint of remorse.

The rest of the night, thankfully, went in a gentler vein. Mr. Robson had a turn with me, as did a few others, but they were happy to just let me suck their cocks. When the football match ended, I heard them making their farewells, and I felt a hand on my head. "Let's go, my whore," a familiar voice said.

In the car Woody tore off the blindfold. After hours in complete darkness, even the grimy colors of the back alley appeared sharp and distinct. It was like a splash of cold water, and it left me shivering. I wrapped my arms around myself.What have I done?

"Did you enjoy yourself tonight?"

I found that I wasn't sure what to reply. It had been something I'd long fantasized about, but yet- I swallowed, and the lingering bitter aftertaste of a dozen men at the back of my tongue made me feel defiled.

He reached out, and I shrank away, but his hand cupped my chin and turned my face forcefully to regard him. "I said, bitch, did you have fun?"

"Yes," I whispered. "Yes, sir." Despite myself I felt my pussy getting moist again at his rough touch.

We didn't speak as he drove me home. My emotions were all tangled up, and I wasn't quite sure what to make of them. Woody for his part seemed content to let me stew in them.

I broke out of my reverie a few streets from my house.

"Woody, I- I want out," I said, thumbing the knob that unlocked the door. "I don't want to do this anymore." I wasn't sure myself what I meant bythis.

I glanced at him, almost expecting to flinch from the sudden force of his anger. His face was unreadable in the shadows, but at length he nodded, and the car shuddered to a stop by the sidewalk.

"Out you go."

I gaped at him. "Here?"

"I won't force you to get out, but I'm going home right now." I saw the corner of his mouth curl up slightly. "What'll it be, cunt?"

I hesitated, my hand hovering over the car door handle.