The Nerd of the Party-Party Hard!

[Storyteller8989]

As I stepped into the frat house, the cacophony of laughter, music, and clinking glasses hit me like a physical wave. The place was a whirlwind of controlled chaos, with bodies pressed together in a rhythmic sway to the bass-heavy music thumping from speakers that seemed to be vibrating the very foundation of the old house. Red plastic cups were held aloft like trophies, sloshing their contents onto the hardwood floors that were already sticky with spilled beer and who knows what else. I felt a mix of excitement and anxiety, my heart pounding in my chest like a trapped bird. This was my first time at a party like this, and I couldn't help but feel like an alien who had just beamed down into the middle of a human ritual I couldn't possibly comprehend. viewtopic.php?t=906
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The author of this story has read and accepted the rules for posting stories. They guarantee that the following story depicts none of the themes listed in the Forbidden Content section of the rules.

The following story is a work of fiction meant for entertainment purposes only. It depicts nonconsensual sexual acts between adults. It is in no way meant to be understood as an endorsement of nonconsensual sex in real life. Any similarities of the characters in the story to real people are purely coincidental.
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Title:The Nerd of the Party
Author: Storyteller8989
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As I stepped into the frat house, the cacophony of laughter, music, and clinking glasses hit me like a physical wave. The place was a whirlwind of controlled chaos, with bodies pressed together in a rhythmic sway to the bass-heavy music thumping from speakers that seemed to be vibrating the very foundation of the old house. Red plastic cups were held aloft like trophies, sloshing their contents onto the hardwood floors that were already sticky with spilled beer and who knows what else. I felt a mix of excitement and anxiety, my heart pounding in my chest like a trapped bird. This was my first time at a party like this, and I couldn't help but feel like an alien who had just beamed down into the middle of a human ritual I couldn't possibly comprehend.

I had been a nerd all my life, the kind of guy who spent his weekends buried in textbooks and video games, not parties and socializing. My name is Sam, and at twenty years old, I'm a sophomore majoring in computer science, which pretty much says it all. I'm the guy who sits in the front row of every lecture, who actually enjoys debugging code at two in the morning, and whose idea of a wild Friday night is a new expansion pack for my favorite RPG. I'm not ugly, I don't think — just... unremarkable. Brown hair that never does anything interesting, brown eyes behind glasses that are perpetually sliding down my nose, and a body that's gone soft from too many hours hunched over a keyboard. I'm the kind of invisible that people look right through, unless they're looking for someone to shove into a locker.

But here I was, invited by the very guys who had made my life a living hell for the past couple of years. Mark and Jake. Mark was the football player with the quarterback smile and the easy confidence that comes from being adored since birth. Jake was his shadow, smaller but somehow more menacing, with a cruel twist to his lips that always seemed to be mocking someone. They were the ringleaders of the casual torment that had colored my college experience — the "accidental" shoulder checks in the hallway, the loud whispers about my supposed virginity (which, to be fair, wasn't exactly an inaccurate assumption), the time they "borrowed" my laptop and returned it with all my desktop icons arranged to spell out "LOSER."

So when they'd cornered me outside the library last Tuesday, I'd braced myself for whatever fresh hell they had in store. Instead, Mark had clapped me on the shoulder with a smile that seemed almost genuine. "Sam, man, we've been real dicks to you," he'd said, while Jake nodded in rare agreement. "We want to make it up to you. End of year party at the house. Saturday night. You should come."

I'd stared at them, waiting for the punchline. "Why?" I'd finally managed to croak.

"Because we feel bad," Jake had said, surprising me. "And because my girlfriend's sorority sister thinks you're cute. She saw you in that physics class you TA for. Said you're smart and have nice hands." He'd winked. "Can't promise anything, but if you can manage not to spill your drink all over yourself, she might be interested."

The promise of meeting a sorority girl — a real, live sorority girl who supposedly thought I was cute — had been too tempting to resist. Even if it was a setup, even if they were just planning some elaborate humiliation, the possibility that it might be real was enough to get me to say yes. I'd spent the rest of the week agonizing over what to wear, finally settling on dark jeans and a button-down shirt that I hoped said "casually sophisticated" rather than "trying too hard."

As I scanned the room now, my eyes adjusting to the dim lighting and flashing colored lights, I spotted them standing by the makeshift bar set up in the kitchen. Mark saw me first, his face breaking into that familiar grin that usually preceded some form of psychological torture. He waved me over, and I made my way through the crowd, trying to keep my cool and not bump into anyone or spill anything on myself.

"Sam! You made it!" Mark exclaimed, clapping me on the back hard enough to make me stumble forward. "Glad you could come, buddy. Jake, look who's here!"

Jake turned, his eyes scanning me up and down with an expression I couldn't quite read. "Well, well, well. If it isn't our favorite nerd. Cleaned up nice, I'll give you that."

I felt my face flush, but tried to play it cool. "Thanks for inviting me."

"Anything for our favorite campus genius," Mark said, slinging an arm around my shoulders. "Let me get you a drink. What's your poison?"

"Uh, beer is fine," I said, though I rarely drank and had no idea what kind of beer I even liked.

"Nah, man, you're not drinking beer tonight," Mark insisted, already mixing something in a red plastic cup. "Tonight you're drinking like a winner. This is called a 'Screaming Orgasm'." He winked. "Appropriate, don't you think?"

I felt my face grow hotter as Jake snickered, but I accepted the cup, taking a cautious sip. The drink was sweet but strong, burning my throat as it went down. I could taste vodka and coffee liqueur and something else I couldn't identify, but it was definitely alcoholic.

They introduced me to their fraternity brothers, who were all surprisingly friendly. There was Chad, the president of the fraternity, who shook my hand with a grip that nearly crushed my fingers and said, "Always good to see new faces. Mark and Jake told us you're some kind of computer wizard." There was Kyle, who had a shock of blond hair and seemed genuinely interested when I mentioned my major, asking if I could help him with a coding project for his business class. There was Tyler, who was already so drunk he could barely stand but still managed to slur, "Nice to meetcha, man. Any friend of Mark's is a friend of mine."

I felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, things were changing for me. Maybe this was what college was supposed to be like — making connections, being included, feeling like you belonged. Maybe the years of being picked on and ostracized were finally behind me.

"Come on, we've got someone we want you to meet," Mark said, steering me toward a quieter room off the main living area. "Remember what we told you? About my girlfriend's sorority sister?"

I nodded, my heart starting to pound again. "Yeah?"

"Well, she's here," Jake said from behind me. "And she brought a friend. Two birds, one stone, you know?"

The room they led me to was still crowded, but the music was quieter here, and people were actually talking instead of just shouting over the bass. And there, sitting on a plush couch against the far wall, were two of the most beautiful girls I had ever seen up close. One had long, dark hair that cascaded over her shoulders in perfect waves, and the other was a blonde with a pixie cut and piercing blue eyes. Both were dressed in the kind of clothes that looked casual but probably cost more than my entire wardrobe — tight-fitting tops that showed off perfect figures, and skirts that were short enough to make me blush just looking at them.

"Sam, this is my girlfriend, Sarah," Mark said, indicating the brunette. "And this is her friend, Emily."

"Hi, Sam," Sarah said, her voice like honey. "Mark's told me so much about you. It's nice to finally meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," I managed to say, my voice cracking slightly.

Emily, the blonde, looked me up and down with an appraising gaze that made me feel like I was under a microscope. "So you're the physics genius, huh? Sarah wasn't kidding about the cute part."

I felt my face flush beet red as Mark and Jake chuckled behind me. "Uh, thanks," I stammered. "I'm not really a genius, I just..."

"No, don't be modest," Sarah interrupted, patting the couch beside her. "Come sit with us. We want to hear all about your... physics."

I hesitated for a moment, then squeezed onto the couch between the two girls. The moment I sat down, Sarah's hand found my thigh, her fingers tracing patterns through the denim of my jeans. At the same time, Emily leaned in close, her breath warm against my ear as she whispered, "I've always had a thing for smart guys. There's something about a man who knows his quantum mechanics that just... does it for me."

I could feel my entire body tense up, my heart racing so fast I was sure they could hear it. I'd never been this close to a girl before, let alone two at once, let alone two who were touching me and flirting with me and saying things that made my brain short-circuit. I could smell their perfume — something floral and expensive — mixed with the faint scent of alcohol on their breath.

"You're blushing," Emily observed with a giggle, her hand coming to rest on my arm. "That's so adorable. I bet all the girls just eat that up."

"Not really," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "I don't really... talk to girls much."

"Well, you're talking to us now," Sarah said, her hand sliding higher up my thigh until it was resting dangerously close to areas that had never been touched by anyone other than myself. "And we're having a very good time."

"Me too," I said, though it was the understatement of the century. I was having the best time of my life, even if I was so nervous I felt like I might pass out or throw up or both.

"You seem a little tense," Emily observed, her fingers tracing the line of my jaw. "Here, this will help you relax."

She produced a small white pill from her purse, holding it out to me in the palm of her hand. "What is it?" I asked, eyeing it suspiciously.

"Just a little something to take the edge off," Sarah said, her voice soothing. "We all take them sometimes. Helps you loosen up, have more fun. You want to have fun with us, don't you, Sam?"

I looked from the pill in Emily's hand to her encouraging smile, then to Sarah, whose fingers were now tracing circles on my inner thigh. I thought of all the lonely nights in my dorm room, all the times I'd watched other guys go home with girls while I went home alone to my computer. I thought of the possibility that this might be my one chance to break out of my shell, to be someone else for a night.

"Okay," I said, taking the pill from Emily's hand and popping it into my mouth. She handed me her drink to wash it down with, and I swallowed, the liquid cool against my throat.

"Good boy," Sarah murmured, leaning in to press a kiss against my cheek. "Now just relax and let the magic happen."

I leaned back against the couch, trying to do as she said, but my heart was still pounding, my mind racing with possibilities. For the first time in my life, I felt like I might actually be someone worth noticing, someone worth wanting. And as the two girls continued to touch me and flirt with me, I let myself believe, just for a moment, that maybe my luck was finally changing.

The world tilted, the laughter from the other room fading into a distant muffled roar as a cold sweat broke out across my forehead. The couch felt like it was swallowing me whole, the plush cushions suddenly seeming like quicksand. "Whoa," I mumbled, trying to sit up straight, but my limbs felt like they were made of lead. "I don't... I don't feel so good."

Emily's hand, which had been resting so companionably on my arm, tightened. "Shhh, it's okay," she murmured, her voice sounding impossibly far away. "It's just kicking in. Sometimes there's a little adjustment period."

Sarah leaned in closer, her dark hair falling across my face, smelling of coconut shampoo and something else, something sharp and chemical. "You just need a little privacy to let it work its magic," she whispered, her breath hot against my ear. "Come on, we'll take you somewhere quiet."

They were both on their feet now, pulling me up by my arms. My legs buckled beneath me, and I would have collapsed if they weren't holding me up. "I think... I think I'm going to be sick," I slurred, my tongue feeling thick and clumsy in my mouth.

"Don't worry about that," Emily said cheerfully, slinging one of my arms over her shoulder while Sarah took the other. "We've got you."

They half-dragged, half-carried me out of the quieter room and down a short hallway, the flashing lights and pounding bass of the party receding with every step. We passed a couple making out against the wall, their hands roaming freely, but they didn't even glance up at us. At the end of the hall, Sarah pushed open a door and they maneuvered me through it into a large, private bathroom.

It was surprisingly clean, with a marble countertop, a huge mirror, and a walk-in shower with a glass door. The moment we were inside, Sarah kicked the door shut, and the noise from the party was cut off almost completely, leaving only the sound of my own ragged breathing and the faint, frantic thrumming of my heart.

"Sit down before you fall down," Emily instructed, guiding me toward the toilet. I collapsed onto the lid, my head spinning, my stomach churning. I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, trying to focus on the tiled floor, but the black and white squares seemed to be swimming before my eyes.

"What... what was in that pill?" I managed to ask, looking up at them through a haze of confusion.

Sarah just smiled, a slow, predatory smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Something special. Something to help you become the person you were always meant to be."

And then it started. It wasn't a gradual shift or a slow fade; it was a violent, sudden tearing sensation, as if something inside me had just snapped. A sharp, searing pain shot through my pelvis, and I cried out, doubling over as my insides seemed to rearrange themselves. It was like being turned inside out, every organ shifting, every bone realigning itself in a matter of seconds.

"Shhh, it's okay," Emily said, but she wasn't holding me anymore; she was watching, her eyes wide with a kind of clinical fascination as my body began to contort.

I could feel it happening, feel my hips widening, the bones stretching and popping audibly. My waist seemed to cinch inward, my spine curving in a way it never had before. My shoulders narrowed, my arms becoming more slender, my hands shrinking, fingers elongating. I looked down at my hands in horror, watching as my knuckles seemed to smooth out, my fingernails growing longer, more manicured.

The pain was excruciating, but there was something else too, something stranger still. A tingling, itching sensation all over my skin, and when I looked down at my arms, I could see the fine, dark hair that had covered them since puberty receding, leaving behind smooth, pale skin. My chest felt tight, then suddenly loose as the muscles there seemed to dissolve, replaced by a soft, tender swelling that grew with every breath until I had small, pert breasts, nipples standing out in sharp, unfamiliar points.

My face felt like it was melting, the bones shifting beneath my skin. My jawline softened, my cheekbones rose, my lips plumping. I could feel my eyebrows arching, my eyelashes lengthening. When I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I barely recognized the person staring back at me. It was still me, but... not me. A softer, rounder, more delicate version of myself, with wide, terrified eyes and a mouth that was open in a silent scream.

The final, most horrifying change came between my legs. A sharp, pulling sensation, as if something was being drawn up inside me, followed by a searing pain as new folds of skin formed, creating a space where there had never been one before. I reached down instinctively, my new, slender fingers exploring the unfamiliar territory, and the realization hit me like a physical blow: I was a woman. Completely, utterly, biologically a woman.

The transformation seemed to happen in minutes, but it felt like hours. When it was finally over, I was left panting on the toilet, my body aching, my mind reeling. I was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, and there was a strange, sticky residue all over my skin, as if I'd been coated in some kind of gelatinous substance during the change.

"Well, look at you," Sarah said, her voice dripping with amusement. "You're even prettier than I expected."

Emily circled me, her eyes appraising. "Not bad. Not bad at all. A little work on the hair and makeup, and you'll be perfect."

I looked up at them, my eyes wide with confusion and fear. "What... what did you do to me?" I asked, but the voice that came out wasn't mine. It was higher, softer, more melodic. A woman's voice.

"Just a little upgrade," Sarah said, reaching out to tweak one of my new nipples. I flinched at her touch, a strange jolt of pleasure and pain shooting through me. "Don't you like it? You're so much more interesting this way."

"Please," I begged, my new voice trembling. "Change me back. Please, I'll do anything."

"Oh, we're not changing you back," Emily said, her tone firm. "This is permanent. So you might as well get used to it."

Tears welled up in my eyes, hot and humiliating. This couldn't be happening. It had to be a dream, a nightmare brought on by whatever they'd given me. But the ache in my bones, the unfamiliar weight on my chest, the strange emptiness between my legs — it all felt terrifyingly real.

"None of that," Sarah said, reaching out to wipe away a tear with her thumb. "We've got work to do. You're a mess."

They both started undressing, pulling off their tops and skirts until they were standing in front of me in nothing but their lingerie. Sarah was wearing a black lace bra and matching thong, while Emily had on a red set that contrasted beautifully with her pale skin. I couldn't help but stare, my new body responding in ways I didn't understand, a warmth spreading through my pelvis, a tingling in my new nipples.

"Like what you see?" Emily asked with a smirk, noticing where my eyes were. "Don't worry, you'll get to see a lot more."

They stripped me down next, pulling off my button-down shirt and jeans, leaving me in nothing but my boxers, which were now loose and baggy on my new, narrower hips. Sarah hooked her thumbs in the waistband and tugged them down, and I blushed, crossing my arms over my new breasts in a futile attempt at modesty.

"No need to be shy," Emily said, taking my hand and pulling me to my feet. "We're all girls here."

They led me into the walk-in shower, turning on the water. It was hot, almost too hot, but it felt good against my aching muscles. Sarah grabbed a bottle of body wash from the shelf and poured some into her hands, lathering them up before starting to wash me.

Her hands were firm but gentle, sliding over my new curves, cleaning away the sticky residue left by the transformation. She paid special attention to my breasts, her thumbs circling my nipples until they were hard and aching. I bit my lip to keep from moaning, a strange mix of pleasure and humiliation washing over me.

Emily joined in, her hands exploring my body with a kind of clinical curiosity. She washed my back, my shoulders, my arms, her fingers tracing the new lines of my figure. When she reached my ass, she squeezed, her fingers digging into the soft flesh. "Nice," she murmured, approval in her voice. "Very nice."

They turned me around, and Sarah knelt in front of me, her eyes level with my new sex. I tensed, my breath catching in my throat as she gently parted my folds, her fingers exploring the sensitive flesh within. "You're so wet," she observed, looking up at me with a wicked grin. "And we haven't even done anything yet."

I could feel my face flush, a fresh wave of humiliation washing over me. I was enjoying this, enjoying their touch, enjoying the way my new body was responding to their ministrations. It was wrong, it was sick, but I couldn't deny the pleasure coursing through me.

Emily washed my hair, her fingers massaging my scalp, working the shampoo into a rich lather. It felt incredible, her touch sending shivers down my spine. When she rinsed it out, the water cascaded over my shoulders, and I tilted my head back, letting it wash away the last of my resistance.

They dried me off with a big, fluffy towel, patting my skin until it was warm and glowing. Then they led me back into the bathroom, sitting me down on the countertop in front of the mirror.

"Time for the finishing touches," Sarah said, pulling a makeup bag from beneath the sink.

She started with my face, applying foundation with a sponge, blending it until my skin was smooth and flawless. She added a touch of blush to my cheeks, highlighting my new cheekbones. Emily worked on my eyes, lining them with a dark pencil, making them look bigger, more expressive. She added a coat of mascara to my new, longer lashes, and a smoky shadow that made my eyes seem to sparkle.

Sarah finished with my lips, outlining them with a pencil before filling them in with a deep red lipstick that made my mouth look fuller, more inviting. When they were done, I barely recognized the person staring back at me. It was a stranger, a beautiful, desirable woman with smoky eyes and red lips, a woman who looked like she belonged on the cover of a magazine.

"Perfect," Emily breathed, standing back to admire her handiwork. "Absolutely perfect."

"Now for the clothes," Sarah said, disappearing into the adjoining bedroom for a moment before returning with a handful of lacy garments.

She held up a black lace bra, similar to the one she was wearing but with more padding, designed to enhance my new breasts. She helped me into it, adjusting the straps until it fit perfectly. Then came the matching thong, a scrap of black lace that barely covered anything, the thin strap disappearing between my newly rounded ass cheeks.

Next came a garter belt, also black lace, which they fastened around my waist. Emily rolled up a pair of sheer black stockings, her hands lingering on my thighs as she attached them to the garter clips. Last was a sheer black robe, short and diaphanous, that did little to hide the lingerie beneath.

"There," Sarah said, stepping back to admire me. "A vision."

I looked at myself in the mirror, and for a moment, I forgot to be afraid. I was beautiful, undeniably, undeniably female. The lingerie accentuated my new curves, the makeup highlighted my new features. I looked like a different person, a person I never could have imagined becoming.

"Come on," Emily said, taking my hand. "It's time for the main event."

They led me into the adjoining bedroom, a large room with a king-sized bed covered in black silk sheets. The lighting was dim, with a few candles scattered around the room, casting flickering shadows on the walls.

They guided me to the bed, laying me down on the cool silk. I felt exposed, vulnerable, but also strangely excited, my new body humming with anticipation.

Sarah leaned down, her dark hair falling across my face as she pressed her lips against mine. It was a soft, gentle kiss, her lips parting slightly, her tongue tracing the seam of my mouth. I responded instinctively, my own lips parting, my tongue meeting hers.

Emily joined in, kissing my neck, her teeth nibbling at my earlobe. I could feel their hands on me, Sarah's cupping my breast, Emily's sliding down my stomach, between my legs. I moaned into Sarah's mouth, my hips rising off the bed to meet Emily's touch.

They pulled away, leaving me breathless, wanting more.

"Enjoy the treat you're about to receive," Sarah whispered, her eyes dark with desire. "You deserve it."

"And so do we," Emily added with a wink. "After all the work we put into you."

They straightened up, adjusting their own lingerie, and then turned toward the door. I watched them, my heart pounding, my body aching with a need I didn't understand. I was scared, but I was also excited, more excited than I had ever been in my life. Whatever was coming next, I was ready for it. Or at least, I hoped I was.

For a moment, I was alone, my heart a frantic drum against my ribs, the scent of the girls' perfume clinging to me like a shroud. I was a doll, dressed up and displayed, waiting for a purpose I couldn't comprehend. The door clicked open, and my new, delicate body tensed.

Six figures filled the doorway, their silhouettes broad and masculine against the dim light of the hallway. My stomach plummeted as I recognized them. Mark and Jake, of course, the architects of my bizarre and horrifying evening. But with them were Chad, the fraternity president with his crushing handshake; Kyle, the friendly drunk who'd wanted help with his coding project; and two others I didn't know well, a hulking brute named Burt and a wiry, nervous-looking guy they called Henry.

They stepped inside, and the atmosphere in the room instantly changed. The air grew thick, heavy with a predatory energy that made my skin crawl. They weren't here to talk. They weren't here to flirt. They were here for a reason, and I was the reason.

"Well, well," Mark drawled, his eyes sweeping over my lingerie-clad form, a look of raw, undisguised hunger on his face. "Look what the cat dragged in. Sarah, Emily, you've outdone yourselves."

"She's perfect, isn't she?" Emily's voice floated from the doorway, where she and Sarah stood watching, like proud creators admiring their monstrous creation.

"She'll do," Chad said, his voice a low rumble. He was already unbuttoning his shirt, his eyes never leaving me.

Panic, cold and sharp, pierced through the haze of confusion and residual pleasure. This wasn't right. This wasn't what I wanted. I was a man. I was Sam. I liked girls. I didn't want this. I didn't want them.

"No," I said, my new voice a thin, reedy whisper. "No, get out."

Jake laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "Get out? We just got here, sweetheart. The party's just starting."

They moved as one, a pack of wolves closing in on a cornered lamb. The bed was suddenly surrounded by a wall of male bodies, their shadows falling over me. Hands reached out, not gentle like the girls' had been, but rough, insistent, grabbing. Fingers probed the soft flesh of my new thighs, squeezed my newly-formed breasts, tangled in my hair. I flinched away from every touch, my mind screaming in protest, but my body, this traitorous, unfamiliar body, responded with a shivering mix of fear and an unwanted, traitorous flicker of heat.

"Please," I begged, trying to scramble away, but there was nowhere to go. "I don't want this. Please, just let me go."

Mark grabbed my arm, his grip like iron. "Let you go? Baby, we've been waiting for this all night. You think we'd go through all this trouble just to let you walk away?"

He yanked me off the bed. My legs, still unsteady from the transformation, buckled, and I collapsed to the floor in a heap of lace and confusion. The impact sent a jolt through my new, more sensitive frame. Before I could even think to get up, hands were on me again, pulling me, forcing me. They dragged me to the center of the room, onto my knees.

"Look at her, already in position," Kyle slurred, his breath thick with the smell of beer.

I was on my knees, surrounded. I looked up at them, at the circle of grinning, leering faces, and a fresh wave of terror washed over me. This was it. This was the nightmare. They were all undoing their pants, the sound of zippers and belts unbuckling filling the room. One by one, they pulled out their cocks.

I'd never seen another man's erect penis in person outside of porn. It was jarring, alien. They were all different shapes and sizes, but they all had the same intent, the same predatory gleam in their eyes as they looked down at me. Mark was first, stepping forward, his hand wrapped around his shaft, stroking it slowly as he positioned himself in front of my face.

"Open up, Sam," he said, his voice low and commanding. "Time to learn a new skill."

I clamped my mouth shut, shaking my head, tears of humiliation and fear welling in my eyes. I wasn't going to do this. I couldn't.

Jake, moving behind me, grabbed a handful of my hair, yanking my head back. The pain was sharp, immediate. "I said, open up," he growled.

My lips parted in a gasp of pain, and that was all the opening Mark needed. He thrust forward, pushing the head of his cock past my lips and into my mouth. The taste was overwhelming – salty, musky, vaguely of soap and something else, something distinctly male. It was fleshy and hard and impossibly invasive. I gagged, my body's natural rejection of the foreign object, but he just held me there, his other hand coming to the back of my head, holding me in place.

"That's it," he grunted, pushing deeper. "Relax that throat. Take it all."

I couldn't. I choked and sputtered, saliva dribbling down my chin. My eyes watered uncontrollably, blurring my vision. I could see the others watching, stroking themselves, waiting their turns. Burt was huge, impossibly so, and the thought of him doing this to me sent a fresh spike of terror through my core.

Mark began to move, his hips rocking back and forth, fucking my mouth. Each thrust pushed him deeper, hitting the back of my throat, making me gag again and again. It was a violation, a complete and utter desecration. I was no longer a person; I was a thing, a hole to be used. The sounds were obscene – the wet, choking sounds I was making, Mark's grunts of pleasure, the low murmurs of encouragement from the other guys.

"Look at those pretty lips wrapped around your dick, Mark," Chad commented from the side. "She's a natural."

Mark pulled out, leaving me gasping for air, strings of saliva connecting my mouth to the tip of his cock. Before I could even draw a proper breath, Kyle was there, pushing his own, slightly smaller but still invasive, member into my mouth. He tasted different, sharper, more of alcohol. He was less controlled, more frantic, his thrusts erratic and shallow, jabbing at my cheeks, my tongue.

They took turns like that, passing my mouth around like a shared bottle of cheap liquor. Jake was next, his style more brutal, more punishing. He seemed to enjoy my gagging, thrusting hard and deep, holding himself there until my lungs burned for air. Then came Henry, who was surprisingly gentle, almost apologetic, but it was no less a violation. Finally, it was Burt. I stared at his monstrous size with wide, terrified eyes.

"Please," I whimpered, my voice raw. "I can't... you're too big."

Burt just grinned, a cruel, toothy smile. "We'll make it fit."

He forced his way into my mouth, and it was like being impaled. He stretched my jaw to its limit, the head of his cock bumping against my tonsils. I thought I would pass out from the sheer size of him, the lack of oxygen. He didn't move for a long moment, just letting me adjust, letting the panic build. Then he began to move, slow, deep strokes that filled me completely, cutting off my air, making stars dance behind my closed eyelids. I was nothing but a receptacle for their pleasure, a warm, wet hole for them to fuck.

After what felt like an eternity, they pulled me to my feet. My knees were scraped and sore, my jaw ached, and my throat felt raw and bruised. I was dizzy, disoriented, my mind a fog of violation and disbelief.

"Time for the main event," Mark announced, his voice thick with lust. He pushed me toward the bed, and I fell onto it, sprawling on my back.

He climbed on after me, positioning himself between my legs. I squeezed them shut, a final, futile act of defiance. "No," I whispered, the word barely audible. "Please, no."

Mark just chuckled, prying my legs apart with his strong hands. He looked down at my new sex, at the folds of flesh that were still so alien to me. "Don't worry, baby," he said, his voice a mock soothing tone. "I'll be gentle. First time's always special."

He spit on his hand, rubbing the saliva onto the head of his cock. I watched in horror as he lined himself up with my entrance. I braced myself, expecting pain, expecting tearing. He pushed forward, and there was a sharp, stinging sensation, a pressure that built and built until, with a sudden give, he was inside me.

It was... strange. Uncomfortable, invasive, but not the searing agony I had expected. There was a fullness, a stretching, a feeling of being utterly and completely possessed. He was right there, inside me, in the most intimate way possible, and there was nothing I could do about it.

He started to move, slowly at first, his strokes long and deliberate. I lay there, rigid, my hands clenched into fists at my sides, my eyes squeezed shut. I tried to disconnect, to go somewhere else in my mind, but the physical sensations were too strong. The rhythmic slide of his cock inside me, the weight of his body on mine, the sound of his breathing in my ear – it was all-consuming.

"Damn, she's tight," Mark grunted, picking up the pace. "Fucking perfect."

He wasn't gentle for long. His thrusts became harder, faster, more demanding. I could feel his balls slapping against my ass with every stroke. My body, traitorously, began to respond. A warmth spread through my pelvis, a tingling that started deep inside me and radiated outward. I could feel myself getting wetter, making it easier for him to slide in and out, a biological betrayal that made me want to scream.

He came with a loud groan, his body tensing, his cock pulsing inside me as he spilled his seed. I could feel the warmth of it, a strange, intimate flood. He collapsed on top of me for a moment, his weight crushing, before pulling out with a wet, sucking sound.

He was barely off me before Chad was there, flipping me over as if I weighed nothing. "My turn," he rumbled, positioning me on my hands and knees. He entered me from behind in one hard, deep thrust that made me cry out. This position was different, more primal. He went deeper, hitting a spot inside me that sent a jolt of something that was uncomfortably close to pleasure shooting through me. He gripped my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh, and fucked me hard, his body slapping against mine with every thrust.

As Chad used me, I felt Kyle climb onto the bed in front of me. He grabbed my hair, pulling my head up. "Don't forget about me," he said, pushing his cock back into my mouth.

I was being used at both ends, a human bridge between their lust. Chad's powerful thrusts rocked my body forward, forcing me to take Kyle deeper into my throat. It was a symphony of degradation, a rhythm of violation. I was no longer Sam, the computer nerd. I was a collection of holes, a toy for their pleasure.

Then came the ultimate humiliation. I felt a cool, wet sensation on my ass, and then Kyle's finger, probing, pushing. I tensed, trying to clench, to resist, but it was useless. He worked a finger inside me, then another, stretching me, using what felt like an entire bottle of lube. I had a sinking feeling I knew what was coming.

Chad pulled out of my pussy, and I was manhandled again. Kyle lay down on his back, his slick cock standing straight up. They pulled me on top of him, positioning me so I was straddling his hips. Mark, who was watching from the side, guided Kyle's cock to my entrance, and I sank down onto it, a familiar, unwelcome fullness.

Then I felt Kyle's hands on my ass, spreading my cheeks. I looked back over my shoulder to see Chad positioning himself behind me, his massive cock slick with lube. "No," I whimpered, shaking my head. "Not there. Please, not there."

"Relax, sweetheart," Chad said, his voice a low growl. "You're gonna love this."

He pushed forward, and the pain was immediate and intense. It was a burning, tearing sensation as he forced his way into my tight, unprepared ass. I screamed, a raw, guttural sound of pure agony, but Kyle just pulled my head down, muffling my cries against his shoulder.

They held still for a moment, letting me adjust, letting the pain subside into a dull, throbbing ache. I was impaled, filled in both holes, a complete and utter violation. Then they started to move.

It was a sensation unlike anything I could have ever imagined. As Kyle thrust up into my pussy, Chad would pull back, and as Chad thrust into my ass, Kyle would pull out. They found a rhythm, a push-and-pull that sent conflicting signals to my brain. There was pain, yes, a deep, aching pain from the brutal penetration of my ass. But there was something else too, a strange, overwhelming fullness, a friction that built and built until I couldn't tell where the pain ended and the pleasure began.

My body arched, my back bowing, a moan escaping my lips that was half pain, half pleasure. I was lost in a haze of sensation, a prisoner in my own body. They were using me, degrading me, but my body was responding, betraying me, hurtling toward an orgasm I didn't want, an orgasm that would be the ultimate surrender.

They switched places, taking turns between my ass and my mouth. I tasted myself, tasted them, tasted the lube and the latex and the raw, musky scent of sex. I was covered in sweat, my hair plastered to my forehead, my makeup running down my face in black and red rivers. I was a mess, a used, broken thing.

Finally, they were all ready. They pulled me off the bed, forcing me back to my knees. They stood in a circle around me, all of them stroking their cocks, their faces contorted with lust. I closed my eyes, bracing myself.

"Open your mouth, bitch," Mark commanded.

I did, and then it was a rain of warmth. One by one, they came, covering my face, my hair, my breasts in their sticky, white sperm. It was in my eyes, blinding me. It was in my mouth, salty and bitter. It was on my cheeks, my chin, dripping down onto my chest. I was a canvas painted with their release, a monument to their conquest.

When they were done, they just left me there. I heard them zipping up, laughing, high-fiving each other. The door opened and closed, and then I was alone, a slimy, sobbing pile of sweat, sperm, and lube on the floor of a strange bedroom.

***

The hot water of my dorm shower beat down on my back, stinging the scrapes on my knees. I was male again. The transformation had reversed itself sometime in the early hours of the morning, leaving me naked, sticky, and utterly alone in that strange bedroom. I had stumbled back to my dorm in the pre-dawn light, a walk of shame that was infinitely more shameful than any I could have imagined.

I leaned my head against the cool tile of the shower wall, the water washing away the physical evidence of my violation. But it couldn't wash away the memory. It couldn't wash away the taste of them, the feeling of them inside me, the sound of their laughter.

I had been a nerd, a loner, but this... this was something else entirely. I had been used, broken, remade in their image and then discarded. I looked down at my body, my familiar, male body, my hands, my chest, my cock. It was all there, all back to normal. But I knew it wasn't. I would never be the same. I would never be able to look at myself, or at them, the same way again. I was Sam, but I was also the girl they had created, the girl they had fucked, the girl they had left in a heap on the floor. And I had a feeling she would be with me forever.



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[Shocker]

This was certainly a very imaginative story. The body change caught me almost by as much surprise as Sam. I'll hold back on the rating until all stories are in.

[RoBloch]

Strange enough. Probably something every man should go through.

[Vile8r]

Now, that was an ultimate humiliation! Turn the nerd into the hot chick and gangbang her! Very original.

[RapeU]

At first I read this and wondered whether the story could accomplish the exact same scenario with an originally female protagonist. Was the cartoonish sex change necessary? Then I remembered this detail:

the time they "borrowed" my laptop and returned it with all my desktop icons arranged to spell out "LOSER."

From the beginning you've established just how dedicated and unhinged these bullies are to tormenting this guy. A computer science major likely has his laptop password protected. So the bullies had to bypass his computer password so they could mess with the desktop icons and probably do a lot more other stuff. Bypassing a laptop password takes a good chunk of time because you have to follow specific steps depending on what the computer is. I've done it myself with one of my old laptops I couldn't remember the password to. It was a pain.

So could the story have been written with the protagonist as a female? Sure, but there's a certain brilliance to having the protagonist as male forced to change into female then change back after they are done having their way with Sam. It further shows how they absolutely hate this guy and want to humiliate him in every way possible without making them be gay.

[sinfulwords]

I’m seeing a pattern in your work Storyteller8989. You depicted similar sex-change phenomena in your story, Incel

But we’re here to talk about The Nerd of The Party

Honestly the lead-up to the rape invoked more emotion for me than the rape itself, cause, I really liked Sam. He was such a lovable little darling! Every step of the way prior to the “finale” I just wanted to teleport into the story to protect him cause I didn’t trust ANY of those jocks and Barbie dolls! Nefarious ahh clowns

I can relate to Sam’s frustrations about not fitting in, and his burning desire for acceptance. I think most humans can in one way or another, so, it just made my heart ache that Sam’s loneliness was used as bait to lure him in.

I enjoyed the prose too, the story is well written. There’s a nice balance of figurative language, some of it rather creative might I add. For example, the metaphors in this particular paragraph caught my eye:

I was being used at both ends, a human bridge between their lust….It was a symphony of degradation, a rhythm of violation. I was no longer Sam, the computer nerd. I was a collection of holes, a toy for their pleasure.

“…a human bridge between their lust…” especially ate with no crumbs

Cool story, it was an enjoyable enough read, kudos

[Storyteller8989]

Thank you all for the feedback. Just a couple of items I wanted to address, I guess to provide a little about the thought behind my writing. To RapeU, yes this story could have been told, actually been a bit shorter, without the cartoonish sex change. Of course then it would have been a simple tale that too many real world woman have experienced. I do like to write about fictional, most times supernatural, gender transitioning stories. I want to be clear, and give a loving shout out to real world transfolk, I am not trying to tell actual trans stories as experienced by my real fellow humans. I don't have that experience myself. I am just trying to entertain the idea of what would a man go through if suddenly thrust into a women's panties. I have several stories, mostly outlined, and partially written about the subject. Most of them include noncon transition, but consensual sex. I've been dragging out my fully noncon shorts for this venue. Thanks for providing such a place. I enjoy these fictional tales as much as I abhor the real acts in our world.

[Storyteller8989]

Sorry, quick side note about the computer. I assumed when writing that part, that the bullies got really lucky and were able to get ahold of it while it was already open. No hacking needed.

[RapeU]

Sorry, quick side note about the computer. I assumed when writing that part, that the bullies got really lucky and were able to get ahold of it while it was already open. No hacking needed.

It could go either way honestly. There is just enough lack of detail to leave it up to reader imagination. In my mind they are obsessed with making Sam miserable to where they go to extreme lengths. That one sentence does a lot of work to support the story.

[MisterZ]

The beginning drew me in, wondering where this was going, and I was genuinely surprised where it ended up. Not my particular kink, but definitely well written.