Raped-Virgin is no more involved in the process than a fleshlight would be, just a set of warm, moist holes available for use when the need arises. You grit your teeth, force yourself to stop rubbing your cock through your pants as you fight against the urge to enjoy this. You can live with being a coward, but not with being someone who revels in the suffering of an innocent person. And yet, why is the thought of using her as nothing more than a hole for your own pleasure so enticing?
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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: Late to the Party
Author: @Claire
My Story Collection: Claire's Cesspool of Sin
This story competes in the You-Contest.
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Late to the Party
You arrive late to the party. Relax, not in a performative, desperately trying-to-look-cool kind of way. You just decided to take a nap in your room in the afternoon, taking after your grandparents apparently, and forgot to set the alarm. So here you are, late, and probably the only one still sober.
As you approach, you hear music blasting from the house of the Eta Omicron Tau sorority. You were promised the party of the century, but to be honest, you couldn’t quite tell if the sophomore students you talked to were just being hyperbolic, saying the same shit about every party, or if this one was actually special. Either way, being just a freshman boy, this is your first college party, so you have nothing to compare the experience to anyway.
You see a girl and a guy standing outside, just next to the door. She’s vomiting. He’s holding her hair with one hand while the other sneaks down her back. Target: her ass. Not exactly smooth, a little desperate, but who are you to judge?
You’re about to reach for the door when it opens from the other side. Two girls – one clearly wasted, the other serving as a human crutch – stagger past you. Drunk-Girl briefly leans into you as she almost falls over while Supportive-Friend gives you an apologetic look and a mumbled ‘sorry’. Whatever the night brings, you technically just had contact with boobs, so there’s that.
You step into the smell of the party. Cheap alcohol, vomit, weed, and the final note: a faint trace of urine. An… acquired taste you’re far too sober for at the moment. You look around. A topless girl bursts out of… the kitchen maybe? She rushes past you cheered on by the loud screams of the other students, presumably to take a lap around the house. Was this some kind of dare or bet? You don’t really care.
You stumble over a guy sitting on the floor who seems to be sleeping with a plastic cup still in his hand, its contents slowly seeping into the carpet. People move in and out of the rooms as if the chaos were perfectly normal to them while you’re looking for your friends, Lamar and Brian, the only two guys you really got to know since you started college. If only your roommate wasn’t a total ass. It doesn’t take you long to spot them, but Brian isn’t looking so good.
Lamar is supporting Brian, not unlike Supportive-Friend did for Drunk-Girl earlier, and walks toward you.
“Dude, where’ve you been?”
You smell the alcohol in Lamar’s breath. Brian’s eyes wander aimlessly.
“Asleep. Yes, seriously. What’s with him?”
You point at Brian; who might technically count as awake, but for all intents and purposes is just gone.
“Fuck do I know. Must have taken something stronger than weed. I’m taking him to his room.”
Lamar, as reliable as ever.
“Come on, I just got here. You can’t leave me alone like this.”
Look at you, complaining like a whiny little bitch.
“Look who’s talking. Not my fault you’re late. Sorry man, but in a situation like this, it’s bros before… late guys? I don’t know. I’m too drunk to come up with anything clever.”
You sigh as you watch Lamar walk away with Brian. Maybe you should have just stayed in bed. But look on the bright side. With everybody wasted already, you won’t need to try too hard to come up with any clever conversation openers.
You get yourself a plastic cup filled with cheap beer. You take a sip, then hold the cup awkwardly in front of you as you scan the rooms for a face that feels at least vaguely familiar. Then you see her. Ngọc Nguyễn, the Vietnamese exchange student you know from the gender studies class you’re most certainly not just attending because 80% of the students taking that course are women.
As the culturally ignorant American that you are, you have of course no idea how to pronounce her name properly. So in your brain, she has been saved as Nice-Ass-Girl. It’s not that you don’t appreciate women beyond their bodies. You simply didn’t have the chance to talk to Nice-Ass-Girl before today, so your mind hasn’t associated her with any – let’s say – deeper category yet.
A brief sizzle makes you take your eyes off Nice-Ass-Girl. Some blond chick has dropped her cigarette into your beer. You sigh. Great night so far. You look back at Nice-Ass-Girl. She’s most definitely wasted too.
You see her walk up the stairs. Well, calling what she’s doing walking would be a discourtesy to the word. It would be more accurate to say that she’s engaging in the age-old battle of drunk person vs. stairs.
You watch her climb a few stairs, stumble, almost fall, giggle for no reason, burp, keep going, and, finally – against all odds – make it to the top without falling once. You’re impressed. You wouldn’t have bet a cent on Nice-Ass-Girl Staircase-Conqueror. You leave your beer-turned-ashtray behind and decide to follow her.
You don’t have nearly as much trouble making it up the stairs as Staircase-Conqueror did. You revel in the superiority of being sober for a second, then focus on her ass, uhh, her again. You watch her tumble and fumble about as the sounds of the party downstairs fade behind you. She vocalizes incomprehensible gibberish to herself, laughs for no reason, keeps her balance by holding onto the wall, and yet she moves like she has a clear destination in mind.
Her drunken walk gives Staircase-Conqueror’s movements an almost hypnotic sway. Your eyes wander down those long legs, trace the outline of her hourglass figure, take in the straight, dark hair, and ultimately return to that delicious ass. Could you be more of a creep, buddy? You’re following a lone, drunk girl you barely know from little more than fifteen feet away as she stumbles toward wherever she’s headed. You couldn’t act more suspicious if you tried. What will you do next? Follow her into the bathroom? Get it together, man! Her ass does look nice, though, in those tight, ripped jeans.
Finally, Staircase-Conqueror opens one of the doors in the hallway and disappears into the room. She doesn’t close the door behind her, giving you an opportunity to watch her for a bit longer. You take a look around, making sure nobody watches you watching her. Without turning on the light, she sits down on the bed in the room, then immediately falls onto her back. For a moment, you expect her to just fall asleep, but she musters all her strength to sit upright again.
She leans forward, then falls onto her knees. Her hands pat over the floor until she finally finds her shoes. Despite her heavily inebriated state, you watch her take them off successfully, albeit slowly. The resilience of her fine motor skills under pressure is truly a marvel. Next, she reaches for her purple socks. She manages to peel one off her left foot, but falls onto her back before she can get to the other one. Looks like she passed out.
It’s time to leave. You know that. You should let Staircase-Conqueror Single-Sock-Sleeper sleep it off. So far, you’ve followed her to her room and watched her take one sock off. Not exactly the textbook definition of a gentleman, but also far from the creepiest thing that has happened at this party. If you walk away now, you’ll be fine, your only mistake being a quick lapse of judgment that didn’t cause any harm. But your late-teenage-boy brain can’t resist the allure of Single-Sock-Sleeper’s one naked foot. Before you fully realize what you’re doing, you find yourself crossing the threshold into the room and closing the door behind you.
Your eyes need a moment to adjust to the darkness now that no more light from the hallway illuminates the room. You’re alone with the sound of Single-Sock-Sleeper’s soft breathing. Is this even her own room, you wonder. You don’t mean to doubt her, but your trust in her ability to actually find the correct room is limited.
You make your way to what you presume to be her nightstand and turn on the small lamp. Immediately, you notice the photo sitting on it. A photo on a nightstand? A little old school for a modern college girl. Maybe that’s more of a thing in Vietnam? You don’t know.
The photo shows her, a selfie she took with some guy. She looks the same as she does now, just sober, less sleepy, and happy. You find the bright smile on her face cute. The guy next to her looks a little younger and a bit uncomfortable. Her little brother maybe? He has that look on his face that’s unique to 16-year-old boys feeling embarrassed by the affection of their older sister. You can’t help but smile as Single-Sock-Sleeper’s Caring-Sister’s love for her little brother reminds you of your own older sister. Amused, you come to the realization that being embarrassed by older siblings seems to be an experience that transcends culture.
Your gaze moves away from the photo and to her sleeping figure. Does she feel lonely here? It must be the first time Caring-Sister is so far away from home. You know a bit what that’s like just having moved for college yourself. But it’s not the same. You couldn’t find Vietnam on a map, but nevertheless you know that she moved halfway around the world to get here, experiencing a completely foreign culture. By comparison, your three-hour drive back to your parents’ house suddenly seems very short.
You take in more of the room. None of the posters on the wall strike your fancy, but that’s okay. The guitar hanging on the wall briefly catches your eye. You haven’t played in forever. There is also a large closet with glass doors. You’d never get yourself one of those as you’re very grateful for the solid wooden doors hiding the chaos in your closet from prying eyes.
You’ve been here long enough. You should leave now, you should have left five minutes ago, you should never have come inside. And yet, your eyes are transfixed by Caring-Sister sleeping unaware of your presence. Your gaze wanders down the legs dangling off the bed, coming to a halt only when you reach the naked foot resting on the floor. You gulp.
You should help her. You absolutely should! That’s the least you can do for her. Take the other sock off, pull her fully onto the bed, tuck her in. The way she's lying there, that’s no position to sleep in. Earn back some of your lost gentleman points. So you kneel down at her feet. Of course you do. What a perfectly normal thing to do. Why is your heart beating so fast?
In your mind, you find yourself taking the other sock off her right foot. But in reality, you end up holding Caring-Sister’s, no, Helpless-Gi… Caring-Sister’s naked left foot in your hand.
Her foot is soft and warm in your palm. It’s so small and delicate. Your thumb traces the outline of her foot as it closes in on her toes. She painted her nails a purple that matches the color of her socks. You want to take that big toe into your mouth.
Your face inches closer to your target while your hand lifts her foot gently off the ground. Caring-Sister lets out a soft moan in her sleep that briefly distracts you, but you keep going since she doesn’t move. Until this moment, you didn’t know your heart could pound like that while you’re kneeling almost perfectly still.
You’re merely an inch away from making contact when you hear steps and voices from the hallway. Maybe they’ll just walk by the door? What if they don’t? You panic, let go of the tender foot you wanted to indulge yourself in, and get up. Your eyes quickly scan the room for a place to hide. Below the bed? No, there’s no room for you there. The closet! A cliché no doubt, but it will do.
You slide open the closet door and hastily step inside. When you realize you’re still able to watch Caring-Sister sleep, you remember the doors are made of glass, perfectly see-through. You squeeze between the hanging coats, jackets, and shirts, doing your best to stay hidden in the cramped space. Not a second too late do you disappear from sight. You see the door slowly open, inviting in the music from downstairs. A moment later, the unfamiliar face of a guy peeks into the room.
You see him check the room not unlike you did yourself earlier. For a second, he’s looking at you, or, more likely, the closet. You consciously slow your breathing, scared your panting might give away your presence. He steps into the room. You don’t know him. He looks Asian to you. Maybe another exchange student who knows Caring-Sister? Asian-Guy picks up the sock Caring-Sister left on the floor and throws it onto her stomach with an amused smile on his face.
He comes to a halt standing next to her. He gives her a quick once-over, puts his hand on her shoulder, and shakes her a little. No reaction. You find his demeanor rather rude. The fact that your judgment is dripping with hypocrisy isn’t lost on you. You see him proceed to slap her lightly across the face. Still no reaction. You hear him mumble.
“Yep, that one’s out.”
You detect no foreign accent in his English. Without a care in the world, Asian-Guy Asian-American-Guy sits down merely inches away from Caring-Sister. He grabs his phone and types something. Shortly after, he puts the phone away again.
This is getting awkward, isn’t it? You just wanted to wait until he’s gone and then leave yourself. But Asian-American-Guy seems to have no plans to go anytime soon. If you stepped out now and confronted him, who would look weirder? Him or you? You decide to keep waiting. After all, he can’t stay here forever.
Two minutes later, the door opens again. A Black guy and a Latin American guy enter the room. What sounds like the beginning of a joke is the reality of the situation you find yourself in. You have a bad feeling about this, and two more reasons to stay hidden.
Latin-American-Guy closes the door behind him, then Asian-American-Guy addresses the newcomers.
“She’s completely out of it. Guess she took one of the pills. She was probably high as a kite before she passed out.”
The others just nod, seemingly unconcerned by how casual he talks about Caring-Sister’s Drugged-Girl’s vulnerable state. Black-Guy speaks up.
“Well, you’re going first? You found her and you’re both Asian.”
“Dude, I’m from Japan. She’s Vietnamese. That’s not the same thing.”
Asian-American-Guy Japanese-Guy rolls his eyes. Black-Guy responds.
“Whatever. Don’t be so sensitive. I wouldn’t mind if someone from China thought I was Canadian.”
Black-Guy shrugs, then continues.
“But if you don’t want the first round, I’ll take it. Just warning you, that will be very sloppy seconds for you. No pulling out today.”
Latin-American-Guy snorts.
“Heh, I actually don’t mind sloppy seconds. Just makes things easier.”
Latin-American-Guy Sloppy-Seconds-Enjoyer laughs at his own joke. Japanese-Guy just shakes his head.
“Too much information, bro. Anyway, help me undress her. Can’t wait to get those jeans off her. I didn’t get to fuck my girl in three days, so I’m itching for some pussy.”
The truth of what they’re talking about dawns on you. Well, that’s not entirely true. You knew where this was going from the moment the other guys entered the room. It’s just that their conversation got rid of all plausible deniability.
Now you have to make a choice. Fuck this, maybe Drugged-Girl Victim will wake up before they start? Would that even make them stop? Maybe she’s better off passed out like this? Shit, it’s up to you. Either you intervene… or no one will.
You gulp, you tremble, your heart feels like it’s about to explode. Sweat drips off your face as you desperately cling to the coat you’re hiding behind. You watch them struggle pulling those tight pants over her ass. A symbolic last line of defense that will ultimately fail – just like you. Unlike you, though, the ripped jeans at least slowed them down a bit.
But you can’t bring yourself to step outside, can you? What’s the point of you playing the hero here? You’re not beating up three guys on your own, no way! And even if you did manage to help her, call attention to the situation somehow, wouldn’t you just implicate yourself? It would be reasonable for any onlooker to assume you’re part of the group. What’s your excuse for being in her room? Somehow you know that ‘I just wanted to take a whiff of her feet while she’s asleep’ wouldn’t go over so well.
“Finally!”
Sloppy-Seconds-Enjoyer exclaims with a grunt as he throws Victim’s pants to the floor. He seems to notice something, then he chuckles.
“Look at that!”
Pointing at her, he says to the others:
“Purple socks, purple nails, and now purple panties. I’ll bet you guys 20 bucks the bra is purple too.”
The others join Sloppy-Seconds-Enjoyer’s Color-Gambler’s laughter. Black-Guy puts a hand on Japanese-Guy’s shoulder.
“She’s all yours. If a girl chooses matching colors for her underwear like that, she expects to be seen naked by a guy that night. If that isn’t non-verbal consent, I don’t know what is.”
Japanese-Guy tries to suppress his laughter while he takes his pants off.
“Damn, that joke was ruthless, even by your standards!”
He steps out of his pants, showing off a sizable bulge in his shorts. Without even a hint of shame, he reveals his rock-hard cock in front of the others, and also you, before he goes on to pull the purple panties off Victim’s body.
What is that you feel? Horror? Fear? Guilt? You know that’s not what’s bothering you. It’s jealousy. You’re jealous of them being able to see that pussy you wanted for yourself.
You hear Japanese-Guy Rapist grunt as he tries to push his cock into her. Meanwhile, Black-Guy and Color-Gambler are busy taking off her top, indeed revealing a matching purple bra.
“Jesus…”
Rapist exclaims.
“Dude, just fuck that pussy, don’t be one.”
Black-Guy Impatient-Rapist eggs his friend on.
“I’m trying, man. But she’s dry as bon… Ah!”
Rapist suddenly moans as the head finally slips in.
Saliva is pooling in your mouth. You wish you could resist, but you cannot not imagine that feeling: a pussy so tight it’s hard to get inside, but when you finally do, you experience that same tightness suddenly squeeze the tip of your cock that has been weeping precum in anticipation.
You begin getting hard yourself. You don’t want to. Or maybe you just know you shouldn’t? You close your eyes, trying to shut out the scene before you. But your ears won’t let you.
You hear Rapist grunt and pant every time he drills his cock into her hole. Impatient-Rapist and Color-Gambler are cheering him on, joking and laughing. They remove her bra, squeeze her tits, compare them to the boobs of their girlfriends. You wanted to feel them yourself, didn’t you? The soft tissue, the malleable flesh, the erect nipples poking at your palm. You still don’t look, but you realize she’s completely naked now, no more than a few feet away from you. God, you are so hard.
“Dude, is that blood on your cock?!”
Color-Gambler’s voice pulls you out of your stupor and makes you open your eyes again. Rapist Deflowerer looks down at his crotch, half of his cock still buried inside Victim’s Raped-Virgin’s cunt.
“Fuck, man. You’re right! Jackpot, baby!”
You hear the other two congratulating him, patting him on his back. Then, as if the realization triggered something in him, Deflowerer begins plowing her with abandon.
clap, clap, clap
The sound of rapid thrusts reverberates in the room, fighting for dominance over the laughter of his friends. But more than that, you can’t unhear the strained groans that escape unconscious Raped-Virgin’s mouth as Deflowerer uses her once precious pussy to jerk himself to orgasm.
“Oh baby, you’ll always remember your studies abroad. First cock in your cunt tonight, and… Ahh!… now comes the first fat load blown up your snatch!”
Following that triumphant declaration, you see him violently impale her on his cock, burying himself inside her to the hilt. His hands grab her shoulders, his fingers dig into her skin as he pulls down the full weight of her body onto his cock, hoping he’ll reach even a fraction of an inch deeper before he finally unloads his cum into her.
Your own cock aches and throbs as you see Deflowerer pant and moan in violent bliss, pumping spurt after spurt into the girl who is so far gone she’ll only realize after the fact that her first time was the rape of her unconscious body at the hands of a man she might never know.
She doesn’t feel it in the moment, but you catch yourself wishing she did: A torrent of your cum flooding her pussy, not the welcome mingling of her lover’s essence with her own wet arousal. Only hot, foreign jizz invading her, splashing against the dry walls of her pried-open cunt. You can almost feel the cum spreading around your hard shaft, seeping into every crevice of her pussy before you withdraw and allow gravity to finally do its job, letting the sticky mess pour out.
You hate yourself in this moment. Your cock wants to stand tall among the rest of them, participate in the violation of Raped-Virgin, but your pants force it to bow down. You reach for your crotch, cautious not to draw any attention to yourself. You adjust the position of your dick without opening your pants, mitigating the uncomfortable ache of your cock straining against the fabric. You know you can’t just whip it out and jerk yourself off here, but you can’t resist the urge to rub your shaft while you watch Impatient-Rapist take Deflowerer’s place.
Impatient-Rapist slides his cock into Raped-Virgin’s cunt without encountering any resistance and lets out a deeply satisfied moan. You see him thoroughly enjoy his first few deliberately slow thrusts into her now well-oiled hole as if he was taking small sips of an old whiskey finally opened after two decades of waiting. For all his earlier impatience, you see Impatient-Rapist Rape-Connoisseur now take his time, savoring every little push into Raped-Virgin’s depths.
Deflowerer distracts you from Rape-Connoisseur sampling the taste of cum-filled pussy with his cock. He walks past Color-Gambler, who is taking in Raped-Virgin’s naked body and kneading her tits while he furiously strokes his cock. Just like you’d like to do.
“Slow down, dude. Don’t blow your load before it’s your turn.”
Deflowerer warns Color-Gambler, patting him on the back. He arrives at his destination, Raped-Virgin’s head. He puts his thumb on her chin, opens her mouth, and shoves his cock drenched in cum and virgin blood past her lips.
“Clean-up time, baby.”
He gently strokes her hair as he uses her tongue like a wet rag to wipe away the remnants of her own abuse.
You’re still paralyzed, fascinated, horrified, and aroused by the spectacle in front of you. A person, a girl, a student, a sister reduced to a sex toy. You realize: what you’re watching isn’t sex. It’s masturbation.
Raped-Virgin is no more involved in the process than a fleshlight would be, just a set of warm, moist holes available for use when the need arises. You grit your teeth, force yourself to stop rubbing your cock through your pants as you fight against the urge to enjoy this. You can live with being a coward, but not with being someone who revels in the suffering of an innocent person. And yet, why is the thought of using her as nothing more than a hole for your own pleasure so enticing?
You are pulled out of your thoughts by the sound.
squelch, squelch, squelch
The sound of black cock stirring white cum in pink pussy.
squelch, squelch, squelch
Rape-Connoisseur has picked up the pace. Between the obscene slurps coming from her violated pussy’s lips, you hear strained moans and grunts that belong to neither of the three guys.
“Is she waking up?!”
Color-Gambler asks with fear in his voice.
“Relax. Just struggling a little in her sleep. She won’t remember anything. She’s tensing up nicely around my cock now, no more dead fish performance. Just how I like it.”
You can see Rape-Connoisseur close his eyes and lick his lips as he drives his cock with newfound vigor right through her cunt’s feeble resistance as her body tries to fight a battle it lost ten minutes ago.
You’re leaking precum into your underwear. You throb and twitch and begin to wonder whether you’ll come without even touching yourself if this goes on. Of course you think that. The idea alone is intoxicating. It’s so easy to imagine what Rape-Connoisseur must be feeling. Long, deep strokes into a tight but unresponsive pussy. But then you feel the flicker of her consciousness returning in the defiant grip of her cunt long before you can see it on her face. Deflowerer got her virginity as the appetizer, but Rape-Connoisseur is getting the main course. And you? You’re a starving man watching others feast.
Suddenly, you see her hand rise into the air. It tumbles and stumbles like it’s trying to swat flies that aren’t there. But then she finds her target. She grabs onto Deflowerer’s shirt and tries to push him away. There is so little strength behind the attempt that it barely recognizes with Deflowerer whose cock has grown back to full length inside her mouth.
“Oh, fuck…!”
“Oww!”
You see it all happen at the same time. Rape-Connoisseur Runner-Up reaches the point of no return and rams his cock with all his might into the abused girl. Raped-Virgin’s half-open eyes briefly flicker fully open as the brutal final thrust balls deep into her cunt ironically helps her regain consciousness. Then her first successful act of resistance makes Deflowerer cry out in pain. Teeth dig into his shaft and he immediately pulls out of her mouth.
“Shit! Argh… Fuck!”
Deflowerer Bleeding-Dick screams and curses in agony. Color-Gambler rushes to him while Runner-Up keeps pumping his load deep into her pussy in undeterred bliss. If it were you, you know you’d fill her up with a load so big it would test the capacity of her virgin hole.
“Are you okay, man?!”
“Yeah, yeah… I think I pulled out quick enough to avoid any real damage. Ugh… fuck. You got one more of those pills?”
Color-Gambler gives Bleeding-Dick a questioning look.
“Yeah, a couple actually. But are you sure? They won’t just get rid of the pain, but knock you out flat.”
“Not for me, you idiot. For her!”
Everybody looks at Raped-Virgin Semi-Conscious-Fighter, including you and Runner-Up, who had finished and pulled out at this point. She is just lying there, naked, her eyes shut one moment, then straining to stay open the next. She moans and groans, her body slowly writhing on the mattress as if it was unable to follow through on the commands her brain was trying to give. An ugly thought invades your mind. She looks kind of beautiful like this.
You curse yourself, almost scream the insult in your mind before you manage to stop the impulse by biting down on your tongue. Just one more. Color-Gambler will take his turn next and then… they will leave, right? They have to! And when they are gone, maybe, just maybe, you can redeem yourself! Help her! Call someone! Make sure that whatever they’re giving her doesn’t cause even more damage.
So what if you got hard watching this? You’re not in control of what arouses you. Nobody in their right mind would have risked their own safety by stepping out of this closet, no way. What happens after, that’s the real test of character!
Bleeding-Dick holds her face in a tight grip while he pinches her nose shut. In the brief moment she opens her mouth to breathe, he slips the pill past her teeth, careful not to get bitten again. You don’t know whether she actually swallowed it, but Bleeding-Dick stuffs her own panties into her mouth immediately afterward, making it impossible for her to spit out the pill.
Meanwhile, Color-Gambler takes position between her legs. He grabs Semi-Conscious-Fighter by her hips and pulls her closer, then takes hold of her ankles and places her legs over his shoulders. He dips his cock into her cunt.
“Jesus guys, how much did you come?!”
“Trust me, you don’t want to know.”
Runner-Up waves off the question, then begins to suck on Semi-Conscious-Fighter’s tits. To your surprise, Color-Gambler pulls out of her pussy almost immediately, his rock-hard cock now drenched in the cum of his friends. Next, he unceremoniously plunges his fingers into her to scoop up a thick glob of cum on his fingertips. He wastes no time and smears it all over her asshole before he pushes his fingers into her ass.
“You can’t be serious!”
Runner-Up says what you’ve been thinking, albeit with amusement instead of horror in his voice.
“What? My girl won’t let me fuck her ass, so I’m taking my shot here. Got a problem with that?”
Color-Gambler Ass-Lover begins to put pressure on her asshole with the tip of his dick.
“You do you, man. Just don’t complain if you end up with shit on your dick.”
Ass-Lover’s determination to go through with his plan is clear as day to you. He pushes, strains, forces a muffled grunt out of Semi-Conscious-Fighter, and finally breaks through the resistance of her tight sphincter. You recognize the moment of success by the loud sigh of relief Ass-Lover breathes into the room.
Semi-Conscious-Fighter moans and grunts as Ass-Lover starts to plow her bowels. Your eyes wander up her body. They stop briefly at her tits which Runner-Up is kneading, licking, sucking on, and biting into. He’s furiously rubbing his cock again, growing it back to full length mere minutes after he came, basking in the privilege of youth that you’re very familiar with yourself.
Your gaze continues upward until it reaches her face. Bleeding-Dick is stroking his cock directly in front of her eyes, determined to blow a load on her face as payback for that bite. He’s not working the full shaft, though, mostly rubbing his foreskin over the tip, as he avoids touching the wound where he was bitten.
Semi-Conscious-Fighter’s eyes slowly glaze over, her moans grow softer, her body wriggles less and less under the assault. You don’t know whether she actually swallowed the pill or whether it’s slowly dissolving in her mouth as Ass-Lover and Runner-Up ravage her ass and maul her tits. You only know that the spark of resistance is dying before it could ever ignite a real fire. Semi-Conscious-Fighter Defeated-Girl fades away into the comfort of unconsciousness once more.
What captures your eye more than anything, though, are Defeated-Girl’s feet dangling off Ass-Lover’s shoulders. With every heavy thrust ball deep into her pried-open rectum, her feet jump up and down, a little dance nobody seems to pay attention to but you. They jump, float briefly, and yield to gravity again. A rhythmic up and down, repeating, predictable, beautiful. If only somebody would take that second sock off.
You can’t see much of the naked left foot because Ass-Lover’s head is in the way and the right one is still hidden beneath purple fabric. But then Ass-Lover grants your wish without slowing down his thrusts. The second sock drops to the floor. Between your disgust, your horror, your arousal, and your barely constrained need, you suddenly feel a hint of gratitude toward the man currently viciously raping the innocent girl’s ass.
Ass-Lover briefly caresses the now naked foot, then gives it an affectionate kiss. After that, you watch him speed up for his finish. Runner-Up also lets go of Defeated-Girl’s tits and is now aiming his cock at her stomach, intending to blow his second load onto her skin. You don’t even need to look at Bleeding-Dick to know what his plans are.
Despite knowing it’s too little too late, you finally close your eyes, hide your face behind the coat that has been providing you cover all this time. You just stand there with your cock and balls aching for release as you wait for the sound of the inevitable. You want to come so bad yourself that you start to wonder whether blue balls can actually burst.
The sounds paint a clear picture of what’s happening. A completely silent girl, and then three men moaning and grunting in quick succession. Ass-Lover is first, the only one who took the chance to paint her bowels white that night. Bleeding-Dick follows, getting his revenge as he unloads on her face. And last but not least, Runner-Up marks her soft skin with his seed.
It’s over, but you still don’t look, too ashamed to watch the aftermath of your failure. You hear the rustling of clothes being put back on, the occasional laughter, somebody patting somebody else on the back, the occasional out-of-breath remark, and finally the sound of a picture being taken.
“What are you doing, man?”
Ass-Lover asks.
“I love pictures of sleeping chicks with cum on their face, even more so when it’s my cum.”
Bleeding-Dick Idiot-Keeping-Evidence responds.
They talk for a bit longer. You just want them to leave. And then they finally do. You follow the sound of their steps with your mind’s eye, feel a sense of relief wash over you as the door closes, and leave your hiding spot after maybe another ten seconds.
Your heart calms down. You’re safe now. The danger is gone. Well, you’re still standing in the room of a girl you’ve got no business being in. The only difference from earlier being that she’s now naked and covered in cum. But… you can’t just leave now, can you? You can’t deny that the door has a certain allure you find hard to resist. Still, what was it you thought earlier? The real test of character comes after? You can’t just walk away after you silently watched her get gangraped by a fucking diversity seminar!
You walk next to the bed battlefield. You can’t frame what you see any other way. Defeated-Girl Ruined-Girl is a miserable sight. Is she actually still alive? You haven’t heard anything from her since the second pill kicked in. What if they gave her an overdose?
Her rising and falling chest suggests to you she’s breathing. But you decide to feel her pulse anyway. With a shaking hand, you place your fingers on her neck. It doesn’t look like she’s in any immediate danger.
What next? Then you realize: you’re an idiot! You rush to pull the panties out of her mouth. That could have become ugly if she had to vomit. You should probably roll her onto her side. You grab her by her shoulders, ready to roll her over, when you suddenly stop.
You’re still hard. Nothing has changed about that. You haven’t really looked at her yet, but you can’t resist anymore.
You begin with her cum-stained face. Some is gluing a few strands of her hair together. Some is clogging one of her nostrils. And some is dripping from her lips into her half-open mouth. She looks peaceful now, but even if she doesn’t remember what happened, she would easily be able to figure it out the next morning. The smell, the dried cum on her skin, the pain in her pussy and ass. You can’t imagine she will have recovered from that by the time she wakes up.
Ruined-Girl’s breasts don’t look too bad. By that you mean they aren’t bleeding. They look red, sore, wet with saliva. There are bite marks, not so deep they’d draw blood, but prominent enough to be recognizable. You close your eyes for a moment as you feel your cock twitch at the sight.
Her stomach is covered in cum like her face. It’s spread all over her soft skin. A little puddle has formed in her belly-button. You can’t help but think that Runner-Up came a lot given that it was his second load in quick succession. Your mind immediately wonders how much cum must be inside her.
Finally, you look at her crotch. Her legs lie lifeless on the bed, still slightly spread. No effort has been made to close them again. You finally know. She is shaven clean. Under normal circumstances, you’d expect to see a tight slit, the enticing prospect of closed lips you can’t wait to open with your fingers, your tongue, and your cock. But now you see puffy, swollen lips and two gaping holes leaking cum in a slow trickle. You’re here to help. Your balls ache.
You watch. You hesitate. You stop. You gulp. You think.
…
…
…
You Rapist look at Ruined-Girl Opportunity and think: What’s one more?
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Feedback and ratings are welcome as always! I'm very curious to see how many actually enjoy this "unique" story.
If I forgot to add the formatting somewhere, please tell me. 
) ready for oral? 