Saturday, June 29, 2013

Delta Gamma Delta Knows How to Party: Part 3

It seemed obvious to me, but the women seemed fascinated by my vibrating belly. Not one to ask for permission, Sandra pulled me onto my back by my hair and straddled my chest, ass to my face. Her dress was hiked up just enough that I could see the white g-string underneath soaked through as she ground her clothed pussy back and forth over my abdomen.

“It feels,” she moaned, “really good.”

Most of the outright cheering had subsided by now and a different atmosphere was settling over the kitchen. Some girls still shared shots at the counter but most were intently focused on the fun with us two boys. The shouts for pain and violation had become a low communal breathing. Anticipation.

Sandra put one hand to her hair and gripped my hips tightly with the other. Her grinding had led her further down to my shaking pubic bone. She now hit the swollen top of my tightly caged cock with her clit on each upstroke. “Oh,” she moaned deeper and deeper. “Oh, Peter. It feels good. Your body feels… uhhh” she shuddered. “Feels so good. Mmm. Squirm for me now. I want you…” A hand came down between my thighs with far more force than a playful slap. “Yes that’s it,” she moaned as I writhed with pain. She clamped her pussy tight against me. “Move for me,” she cried hitting me harder and harder. Finally, with a shriek and a tightening of grip, followed by her weighty torso draping flatly against mine, she came. I could barely breathe between the sweaty fat columns of her back, but I found a stream of air. The giant pink cock still buzzed and pulsed deep inside of me.

I barely felt conscious anymore the sensation was so intense. I had retreated deep into my head.
Before I knew it Sandra had rolled off of me and Amy had taken her place. Amy faced me, breasts nearly spilling out of her low cut blouse. Her body felt warm and soft and enveloping pressed against mine, her clit seeking out the vibrating skin of my hips. “Stop,” I whispered. “Stop.”

Amy was beginning to bite her lip with pleasure, but she seemed none too pleased at my outburst. She looked around for her ‘little sister’ who was watching Eduardo try to protect his balls. “Double Stuff,” she called, “get the collar out of my drawer.”

The large girl looked fearingly at her ‘big sister’ and plodded off without a word.

With shaking, weak arms (my whole body shaking, really) I tried to push Amy away, but she grabbed my wrists and pushed my hands to her breasts. “You dirty son of a bitch,” she said, slapping me for show. “Don’t touch me while I’m enjoying you.” Her lips said that that, anyway. Her hands implored me to massage her erect nipples.

“Don’t… don’t stop” she started to moan lustily but ‘Double Stuff’ had returned with the headgear. It was a collar of sorts, but it was also a gag. The leather held the neck in place while the thick knotted cord kept the mouth open and filled. Amy fit it over my head, pulling the leather strap tight. “Come on, don’t stop,” she said in lighter, more masculine tones. Only then did I realize that I had been matching her rhythm pulsing my abs and drawing my body tight against her clit. When I realized it I was horrified. I felt dirty. Somehow complicit in the act.

Amy screamed with exasperation. “Why? Why did you stop?” She slapped me on the face and chest, bouncing up and down on my belly, painfully compressing me against the vibe. “Oh god, come on. Come on I was so close.” We both knew that it was too late already. The orgasm had passed and only frustration remained. I knew the feeling all too well. Unfortunately for me, Amy didn’t.

“This is bullshit,” she said, slapping my face back and forth.  The fight had completely gone out of me at this point. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

The leather had begun to sour in my mouth and I began to feel a gagging sensation creep over me. The taste of leather was so strong in my mouth, and the more saliva I produced the less I was able to swallow it all. With this addition Amy was able to yank my face to meet her enraged face as she continued to berate me. “You are the worst kind of cunt-tease, you know that? A prude on the street, a freak at a party and incompetent in bed.” She put a hand over my face, not that I was going to try to respond anyway.

Amy gave me that bitchy look of hers before sliding up my body and planting her ass on my face. Under her skirt my nose was flat against her musky, wet pussy. She ground her snatch against my nose for a bit, but ultimately came to a stop. As I began to gasp desperately for air, she lifted herself off of me and sat beside my head, legs pulling my head sideways to match her posture. She uncovered one of my ears to say, “We decided that since you’re no good sexually, you’ll have to put on a show for us.”

“Please,” I croaked. “Please let me go home. No one-“

“Oh my god!” Amy groaned in frustration. “You are so boring. And don’t tell me the cock isn’t nice in your ass. You’re leaking cum all over it.”

She was probably right. Usually after a month without release, anything in the ass will start me leaking like a well-fed sailor’s whore[1].

And just like that the enormous intruder was gone. I gasped as a partygoer forcibly emptied my ass. I felt every muscle in my body relax and the feeling of emptiness was glorious.

Beside me I saw Eduardo struggle to his feet. He looked absurdly small in the moment, probably partly due to his horror streaked makeup. The poor creature barely came up to the naval of the women surrounding him without his shoes. As various girls continued to slap and prod him he raised his slender arms in defense, but they easily slapped them away. He slipped to his knees for a moment, tiny feet slick against the hardwood floor speckled with saliva, tears and drinks.

I was beginning to come back into my body and the girls took notice immediately. My arms and legs felt weak now, wobbly. Strong hands rolled me onto my stomach and then helped lift me to my feet. I was too weak to stand for a moment but found my balance, bare feet on the soft towel. Someone shoved Eduardo into me and as I clung to him and he to me we both hit the hardwood with a kuh-thud-thud.
“There has been a request,” Sandra started, leaning back to collect her hair into a ponytail and apply a band, pushing her chest out in the process so that her breasts pressed tight against the cotton of her t-shirt, “that we enact one of our members’ deepest fantasy. I don’t want to say whose it is, but this girl reads a lot of books and damn is her mind filthy.” A cheer went through the crowd. “But first, you two look like cheap whores and you need to clean up.”

I was happy to stay on the floor forever. Floor was hard, but it was stable and motionless.
Nevertheless I knew she was right. Ed’s dress now had a tear up the back from the bottom to his hip dimples (no doubt from the fucking. Or was it the dog’s fault?), and I had lost my shirt and panties completely. Our makeup was a mess. Ed’s was anyway. We’d both been crying.

So will a little help and some playful slaps of encouragement we were loaded into the large master tub and the water flowed. At first the heat was nice but it quickly burned my skin and made my head even more exhausted. “Hot,” I said.

“Ouch, that does look hot,” a girl said and turned on the cool faucet too.

We huddled together in the middle of the spacious tub. Ed grabbed tight to my arm and I pulled him close and hugged him against me. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“I’m scared,” he said.

I looked past his partially matted hair at the other side of the room. Six girls had lined the wall in front of the counter and mirror watching silently. Conversation continued out in the hallway but the only sound in the bathroom was the running water. I looked from eye to eye and saw no sympathy. Only hunger.
A shorter girl with long, curly brown hair and a thick New York accent entered the room saying “so funny because I was just having a dream where these two cute little boys were-“ she stopped short to take in the pathetic sight in the tub. I looked down at us. Someone was bleeding. “Eugh,” she grunted with disgust. “Well they weren’t like that. They were… beautiful. But these twinks are skinny enough I guess. You guys should have woken me sooner.”

She approached the tub and as she reached for the soap on the wall behind us I flinched away from her open palm. “Woah there little guy,” she said with a chuckle. “It’s alright.” She grabbed the soap and started rubbing away at Ed’s face saying, “You got a really sad face there little buddy. You look just like my little brother when I take away his cum day. Come here. Do you have any idea how to put on makeup? Do you just slap a few different colors on your face and call it good? Stand up now. Oh! Look at how cute his metal cage is. I would love, love to design something like this. K, let’s get you nice and clean here. And bend over now. No, facing away from me, silly.”

Ed glared at her distrustfully. I rubbed his leg to comfort him. He gave me that dopey, scared, questioning look that girls love so much in porn. I nodded, hoping to relax him, but he only bent over stiff and scared.
“There we are. It looks like somebody’s on his period tonight. Did somebody give you a little more cock than you were ready for?”

Ed whimpered as she cleaned his hole.

“Don’t worry there little buddy. It’s just superficial. This amount is normal for a virgin. Are you a virgin?” she asked.

Ed whimpered again.

“Doesn’t sound like a virgin to me. Sounds like the sluts in the Pool Boy movies,” she said, slapping his ass. Then she turned to me. “Were you looking at your boyfriend’s little clitty while I was washing it?” I tried to shake my head but she caught my chin in her thumb and index finger and started wiping my face with the soap. “You love to look at your boyfriend’s clitty, I bet. Do you two live together?” she didn’t really want an answer. “Do you play pillow fights and touch each other when you’re lonely? I bet that some nights he grabs the TV remote and pretends he’s a big strong woman fucking you, huh?” She forced my head under water and inevitably my nose filled with soapy water. “Come on now. Up. Show me your hole too. Not bad. Not bad. I heard that you took Big Betty. Betty is Double Stuff’s vibrator. Did you moan the way she does at night when it filled you up?”

I remained silent. Ed slowly lowered himself into the lukewarm tub.

“Okay up now. Up and out you go. Nice and clean.”

The flurry of mad, drunken hands were suddenly given purpose by this girl’s presence. We were dried in soft towels and led before the full-length mirror in the bedroom. After some discussion each of us had a pink ribbon tied around our chastity cages and pink panties to match. Eduardo, being smaller, was zipped into extra tall boots.

“What size are you?” asked our new friend.

“I’m sort-of between a medium and a large,” I explained. I suppose my mothers considered themselves noble for having me the old-fashioned way, but it had caused me nothing but trouble. Normally males were manufactured in one of three standard sizes by the agency according to preference. Eduardo, like over half the new boys born in America, was a Small. There was no doubt the option was cute, but sadly not durable or reliable. Eduardo was unlikely to see his fortieth birthday. Instead my mothers combined their DNA in the lab and used one of the 20 stored Y chromosomes in the central database.

Being somewhere between a medium and a large was no good. It only resulted in large responsibilities with medium freedom. In school gym when the guys we were locked up for the first time, I was of course given a medium chastity cage, but in sex ed I was issued a large practice cock. Medium clothes make me look fat and large clothes make me look disheveled. I can’t meet large expectations or fit inside medium confinement.
She stared at me incredulously for a moment and said eventually “okay,” and set about building my outfit. They gave me lacey black garters and a small tee shirt with a unicorn on it. They proceeded to make us up “not like whore, like you came in,” they said, “like ladies. Proper ladies.” Ed, who normally loved this sort of thing held in his usual squeals of delight. His eyes registered only dread. I’m not sure if he knew what was coming next. I had an idea, but that didn’t make it any easier.

They led us to the circular bed in the middle of the room with black sheets. Already on the bed was a thick, long, double headed dildo. “Don’t take off the shoes,” said Double Stuff. “I like the shoes on.” At this point any girls still wearing pants shed them, relaxing into the various chairs and sofas around the room. Sandra stared intently down at me alternating touching herself, pulling her hand away, starting to accidentally fondle a breast and so on.

“I want you to repeat after me,” the skinny blonde said, “’I’m just a sissy boy home all alone and my dirty pussy is craving some lady cock.’” She breathed heavily as she read it. A creepy quiet had descended over the whole room. The spectators were only interested, not concerned.

I took a breath to steady myself and repeated as I was told. In my head I spoke fluently, with grace, but I’m sure I was a shaky mess. Deep breaths, I kept reminding myself. Be still.

A different black girl, one I didn’t recognize, picked up the dildo and began slathering it with a viscous lube, clenching it in her meaty fists. The blonde spoke again, this time for Ed. “I’m home all alone too and I’m aching for something to fill up my sissy pussy.” Ed only whimpered and cried.

“Say it,” said Double Stuff, slapping his face hard enough to knock him on his side.

Ed shrieked and cried louder.

“Christ,” said Double Stuff who leaned out onto the bed and collected Ed in her thick arms. He put his hands against her chest as if to push her away, but she pulled him into a tight embrace, sideways, like a baby. “Just chill a second, okay?”

Ed struggled in futile fits off and on for a few seconds but eventually his body went limp and relaxed. “There, there,” she said, patting his bottom. Then it wasn’t so much patting as rubbing and eventually her pointer finger began to rub his hole directly. His closed eyes shot open and he struggled again for a moment, but when her lubed finger slipped slowly inside of him he seemed to accept his fate. Cradled against her there was nowhere to go, no hope of overpowering her. “Do you like mommy’s finger, baby?” she asked.
Ed shook his head slowly side to side, mouth open but unspeaking.

“Come on,” the girl said hugging him tighter so that a short moan was squeezed out him. “Don’t be a prude. Just play one more game with me. Okay?”

“Okay,” Ed whispered, lying out on the bed as she released him even as her finger stayed snug inside of him. The dildo slapped juicily in the black girl’s lubed hands.

Amy, who was getting annoyed at the delay, chimed in, “K, now you say, ‘I do have the one dildo my teacher gave me, but it’s much too big for me alone.’” It wasn’t hard for me to sell that line.

Double Stuff, who now had Eduardo moaning and rhythmically moving his hips with her finger inside of him, said in a mock high voice, “I’m a fucking sissy cunt who doesn’t know how to take cock in her pussy correctly without complaining,” eliciting shrieks from Ed by poking his prostate for emphasis. “I need a big, strong woman to teach me how take it like a real man.”

“That’s not…” Amy started but realized the futility of trying to keep continuity and improvised, “I need a teacher too. Good thing the girls at Delta Gamma Delta are great teachers.” Double Stuff flashed her a smile. This new story was pleasing too. The girl holding the formidable dildo approached menacingly but Amy waved her off.

“Okay sissies,” said Double Stuff, now playing herself, “you’re going to touch each others nipples and spank each other. Ed let out a little sound as his ass came unplugged. We did as we were bid, tickling and touching each other in stilted, uncomfortable movements. After a time Double Stuff approached again and guided us into different positions. She moved me around to Ed’s rear as he stood on all fours. The girls laughed at her joke as she moved my hips, pretending to fuck him.

When she was finished amusing herself, she guided me into a position on all fours too, facing away from him. The dildo wielder approached again and held the giant toy between us. “All right now,” said Amy, coming around the bed and crouching down so we were face to face. She smelled sweet, like fruit. “Ease yourself on it. It’s okay to go slow at first.” Even as she said it she put a hand on my head and one on my shoulder, encouraging me backwards. I moved around a bit to lube up my hole from the dildo and started working it into my ass. Ed made no sound for a long time but after a few moments I heard a loud slap followed by Ed screaming and crying his head off. The cock head felt impossibly large as I let it slip inside of me. Relax. Relax, I reminded myself. I could do this, but Amy’s pushing was not making it easier. All at once the cock head broached me and I felt my asshole pull tight under ridge. God it was big.

“Good, good. Keep at it,” said Amy. I looked up to watch her piercing eyes but looked back down to concentrate. I kept pushing back, still faster than I would like, trying to open up for the length and girth. Ed was still crying, which could only be making it worse. I moved my knees to back up, accepting more and more, the ridges tickling my tender prostate. “Say ‘I want it.’”

“I want it,” I gasped. Finally Ed’s panic was subsiding again and I heard his characteristic little moans. The same sounds he made when he thought I was asleep in the dorm. Several of the girls had gotten out of their seats to approach the bed.

“Now that you two sluts have the cock you’ve been begging for,” said Sandra, “don’t let it drop. It would be very bad for you two to let it fall on the bed.

Ed sniffed an “uh huh” and I nodded. I tried to move back and forth on it a bit to make the sensation more pleasurable, but I couldn’t move much in Amy’s grip. After a bit more hands touched me. Hands on my hips and thighs, another on the back of my head as well as the top. I could hear myself starting to moan but I just focused on the sensation, trying to make room for more, more. “Gah,” I let out my breath with a pained moan.

This set Ed off who immediately blurted “Oh god, stop. I can’t take any more.”

There were a few chuckles at this.

“No, no please. Please stop. It’s too big. It’s too big. It hurts my tiny pussy.”

He did sound like a slut in the Pool Boy videos. I couldn’t claim superiority though as I finally slipped into a headspace where the full, pained sensation felt alright.

“I want the asses to touch,” whispered Double Stuff.

The girls pushed with renewed vigor. Their combined strength easily overpowered my attempts to slow my descent. The cock pushed deep into me, filling me deeper than anything I had felt. I almost felt the urge to cough it felt so deep inside of me.

“Come on,” Double Stuff said, “come on. Come on,” we must have been close. I could feel his feet between my legs, his toes curling and uncurling. “Come on,” and for one brief moment, I could feel Ed’s shaven ass against mine. The hands let up and we sprung away from each other. For a second I felt the monster cock drop onto the bottoms of my feet, but I pushed back to take more of it. I wasn’t convinced that Ed was doing the same.

“It hurts,” he moaned, leaning further and further forward. Sure enough he doomed us, sliding off of the cock entirely and letting it hit the bed. The girls’ cheering turned to disappointment. My end stayed in and I simply lowered myself flat on the mattress, legs spread, hoping for mercy. I heard a series of smacks and cries from Ed.

“Wait, I know,” said the brunette who washed us. “He’s got what? Bleeding, abdominal pain, emotionality. I have something just for that.” She returned with a pack of Menseaze and fed Ed two with some water. He happily swallowed them down. “That should get your tummy feeling better,” she said patting him on the gut like a submissive dog. “You make such a cute little girl,” she said. “Is this your first period?”
Ed moaned.

“You know what, little sissy. I’ve had an idea. I want to teach you how to piss like a girl.”
I continued doing my breathing exercises face down on the mattress as my body writhed against my will. I was happy to be forgotten for the moment.

“Come with me to the bathroom,” she said. Ed still wore his heels and could not stop slipping on the slick black floor. I watched from the bed as the brunette grabbed a rubber bag from under the sink and began to pee in it. She passed it around and a few other girls added to it, casually, standing up. The brunette took the bag back and after jokingly threatening to pour it on his head, she asked Ed to get on hands and knees. She stoppered up the bag and fed a tube into Ed’s ravaged hole then hung the bag from the shower rod. Ed’s face was puzzled more than anything. He no longer seemed in pain but I could tell the sensation was not pleasant. While he was down there a few girls took the opportunity to jam their feet in his face and have him lick their toes.

“Are you filled up?” the brunette eventually asked. “Does the sissy need to pee?” She pulled the tube from his ass. “Get up,” she said, lifting him under the armpit. Once standing, I could tell he was not feeling well. “Ask me politely if you want to pee.”

“Please,” sobbed Ed, “please Ma’am let me pee. I have to pee.”

She shook her head disapprovingly. “Not yet. I want you to walk around the bed and back with perfect posture like a good sissy.”

Ed dutifully started out of the bathroom. A few voices called out when he emerged from the room, balancing carefully on his shoes. He made it around the bed and a few steps back before a shift of balance sent his load bearing foot sliding out from under him. He hit the ground with a thump and then…
“Oh lord,” yelled Sandra, “the fresher’s pissing himself. He’s pissing himself.”

Most of the girls started laughing but the brunette was not amused. She ran to him screaming about failure and making a mess and dragged him to the tub. “You’re going to clean that up, young man,” she said.
By now the fiery booze had turned to sleep in their bellies some of the women were dropping off to sleep reclined in their chairs. Finally deciding I couldn’t relax any longer, I slid my way off of the huge cock. I pushed the cock head out with a pop and felt a wonderful deflation as my guts relaxed.

My relief was short lived as Amy spoke from the other side of the room, “What do you think you’re doing, Peter?”

A cold washed down my spine.

“I don’t think anyone asked you to take out that cock.”

“Please,” I whispered to myself.

“I think that both of them are bad, disobedient boys,” Amy continued. “Disobedient boys get punished. You don’t deserve that nice big cock we gave you. You deserve a cold night in the basement.”

She half-dragged me to the bathroom and threw me in the tub with Ed. “I should make you lick up the mess you made,” she said to Ed, who looked concerned and then looked down. She proceeded to turn the cold water on us and spray us down with the showerhead. I realized that she was washing away the only physical evidence that they could use in court. Without physical evidence, a man can’t hope to win a sexual assault trial (and may even be sentenced to serve his abuser).

We were then thrown in the basement wet without clothes or blankets. The basement was significantly colder than the rest of the house, so we just hugged each other in the dark. After a few hours the room went a glossy grey color. At some point in the early morning the door opened with a bang but I could not see anyone at the top. Barefoot we crept up into the house, moving directly to the front door.

I have done the walk of shame, but never completely naked. Anyway, that’s why I don’t do soro parties any more.

[1] That phrase actually has an interesting history. Pirates would take island husbands on ships with them and they found that there was no need to give them any water or food rations. The boys could survive for months on only their own semen. Of course it was later discovered that the semen was only recycling a small amount of the male’s water. Most of the nutrition was in fact coming from the sailors’ urine which was rich in water and electrolytes. (Edbert, A Maritime History of the Colonies)

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