College Chronicles Ep. 10

"Wouldn't it be SO hot to suck his big, fat balls while he fucks her?!"

I shuddered, pinioned between the three. Cindy's grasp at my sides tightened, Aurora threw her hands on my shoulders for support as she stuck her ass out further towards Jaxx, and he, noticing my eyes on his, shot me a wink before winding up and thrusting aggressively. Devilishly matching Cindy, Aurora leaned forward and spoke into my other ear, her body shaking with Jaxx's increasing pounding.

"You-unh... Slut... Get on-anh- the... Ungghh..."

She was too intoxicated on alcohol, drugs, and his massive dick to get the words out, but I understood the message. 'Get on the floor. Worship him. You've always wanted this.'

My cheeks burned red-- embarrassed for myself, though Aurora was the compromised one. I was speechless, frozen, overwhelmed. Around us, the party raged on, unmoved by the predicament I found myself in. And Jaxx kept on watching me, his slate eyes burning with cruel fire, smirking confidently and drawing pleasure from my confusion.

I was tempted to follow their instructions. It would have been seductively simple to fall to my knees, crawl between their coupling, open my mouth and worship at the more and more familiar obelisk of Jaxx's rampant masculinity. The ache at my crotch spurred a feeling of impatient passion in my gut-- almost anger, really. A swirling, hot, frustration that was on a simmer underneath everything else. If I'd had a drink or two more, maybe I wouldn't have been able to resist their combined manipulation, as effective and subtle as a battering ram.

But somehow, I was able to find words. Maybe it was my temperature rising another few degree that sent the frustration to a boil, bubbling up from under my fear and my lust and the substances.

"I ne-... I need a minute!"

I almost shouted, but my voice was thin and lost in the noise of the club. I didn't try to overpower Cindy and Aurora; instead I just dipped and sidestepped, taking advantage of their drunken reflexes. I was able to slip from between them, stumble into the crowd away from their grasps. Jaxx waved one hand at me dismissively, turning his full attention back to Aurora's presented ass. Aurora hadn't even noticed my departure, was turned around to look at Jaxx, mouth in an exaggerated 'o'. Cindy held my gaze, staring after me, her green eyes flaring even as dancers began to clog the space between us. Then I blinked, and she'd turned away, pressed herself against Aurora as Jaxx fucked her forward. They embraced with sloppy kisses, then I lost sight of the three in the crowd.

So I turned and I ran. I managed to subdue the instinct to literally run, but I ran all the same, wobbling my way through the crowd, around tables and bars. The further I got, more regret flooded into me: Cindy would be disappointed, Jaxx dismissive, Aurora downright cruel. I hesitated... but I couldn't turn and face them yet. It would be too pathetic.

My aim was to reach the back of the club, where I hoped to find a bathroom. I needed a moment to myself, to take stock, to figure out what was happening around me. By the time I found one, I'd stressed myself sick. I sprinted into a stall, slamming the door and nearly falling against the flimsy lock, desperately struggling with it for a moment. Then I retched over the toilet, before slumping onto the closed lid, close to crying.

What had I gotten myself into? How was I going to get out of the club without being publicly humiliated?

As I sat there, calming myself, the burgeoning frustration fought back against my despair. They were fucking with me again, and I was only making it easier for them. I wanted Jaxx to look at me like he did at Aurora. The thought was a surprise, even though it had flitted in my mind for days, inchoate and shadowy. But now it was clear; I wanted Jaxx to want me, and I hated her for taking him away from me. It embarrassed me, as I sat alone sniffling on a toilet, to admit to myself. Weeks ago I hated him; wouldn't have pissed on him if he was on fire. Now, I was jealous of Aurora for being blessed with his attention, holding it so easily. I was jealous of her for having Jaxx so wrapped around her finger. For being beautiful and being smart and being popular and being Jaxx's.

If I wanted to compete, I'd have to up my game.

Then my disadvantage occured to me, stupidly late. The reason she was being fucked out on the dance floor. She had a hole to fill. The realization continued to dawn on me; I was jealous of all the girls for that simple reason. I couldn't offer what they had, sweet, tight pussies in which to sheathe his sword.

Or could I?

Cindy and Jaxx had both teased about it. 'Teased' was too nice; they'd been outright disrespectful, saying blatantly that they wanted to fuck my ass. I even had a plug in my ass at that moment. Of course, my tiny plugs were a much different matter than Jaxx's absurd, thick cock...

For the first time, I really considered the idea of Jaxx fucking me. Before it had simply been unthinkable, laughable, physically impossible. But he clearly wanted to. Would that be the price I would pay to stay close, to keep on his good side? Was it a price worth paying?

I couldn't stop thinking about about Jaxx in the limo, in the booth, on the dance floor conquering and ruling. I couldn't stop thinking about his appearances in my dreams, which always seemed to end with him knocking at my back door. I couldn't stop thinking about the icy grey look he'd given me when I'd fallen into his lap, the feeling of his monster shifting underneath my bare skin.

Out of my fear, anger, despair, frustration; a sudden clarity of mind. I came to a decision. I wanted --needed-- his attention. Even though he was my bully, had mostly been cruel to me since I'd known him. I wanted to go back out there and do what I had to. Serve him, Aurora, Cindy; humiliate myself in public. Be a pawn in their games of sexual depravity. It would all be worth it to be back in 001, just myself, Cindy, and Jaxx.

The concept of getting fucked was still downright scary. He was too big, too rough, too mean. I couldn't bear the thought of giving Jaxx that much power, trusting him so intimately. But underneath all those misgivings, there was a dark, sensuous temptation. His roughness, his untrustworthiness was part of the appeal. And I trusted Cindy. She would protect me from his over-amorous predation. If she decided it was time... then there wasn't much I could do to stop it anyway. Besides, when had she steered me wrong? Everything else she'd engineered had worked out okay. Better than okay.

So I had just talked myself into going back out, sliding the lock on the stall open, when I heard the bathroom door swing open, briefly letting in the full thumping of bass, screams of excess. In the noise were shouting voices, and I realized my mistake.

Despite my hyper self-awareness, I had totally forgotten how I was dressed, automatically entered the men's bathroom out of habit and drunken stupidity. Now, a group of guys was entering. Thinking on my feet, I nearly jumped into a squat on the toilet lid to prevent my heeled boots from being seen under the door, pulling my cape up to wrap over my shoulder. The sound was barely covered before the door closed and put us back in relative quiet, the noises of the club muted and distant.

I pressed my hands against the opposite walls of the stall, holding myself up by friction, arms shaking with stress almost immediately. I don't know why I hid. Maybe if I walked out, I might have stunned them enough to pass by. But I wasn't capable of dealing with that confrontation, so I did what I was used to; avoidance.

A stall door opened and closed while three or four voices continued a conversation, shouting as if they'd been deafened by the club. The conversation was slurred and crude; they'd had a lot to drink, and their blood was up.

"Fuck! These club sluts piss me off! Bunch of fucking whores in costumes. Won't even put out!"

I heard the clicking of a lighter, and a few seconds later the pungent, sweet smell of weed advanced into the cubicle.

"Yo, it's worse every year. I love Halloween but seriously. Teases everywhere."

"Fuck that shit bro. I'm getting laid tonight! I'm gone GET me some pussy."

"Dude that's what I'm saying! These bitches want it anyway, dressed like that."

"You see that Harley Quinn? God damn! I'd give my left arm to nut on her."

"Bro she a dime, but she was fuckin' that Superman!"

"What, you mean like out there?"

"Yeah, in the motherfuckin' club!"

"No fucking way!"

"Yeah man I'm telling you he's got her bent over right now, clappin' that ass!"

"Fuck! Muscle-head fuck."

"He's got like twenty bitches. Why can't he share with the rest of us?!"

That was when I looked down, panicked, wiggled my foot seeking better purchase and found none.

"Aagh!"

I yelped in panic and shock and fell into the space between the toilet and cubicle with a loud, painful clatter. The conversation outside ceased, and in the silence a single bemused voice rose.

"What the fuck?"

My heart was racing, blood pounding in my head. The door swung open; I must have unlocked it in my stupid panic. I was confronted by a werewolf with his mask off, a pizza delivery man, replete with pizza box, and to my horror, the 'orgasm donor' from the line outside.

The look on the werewolf and pizza guy's faces must have matched mine; surprise, confusion, a bit of fear at being caught out.

But the look on the donor's face was one of smug, cruel joy, revelling in his unexpected good fortune. His eyes moved across me with rapacious intent, the way he licked his lips made my skin crawl. He wasn't the one to break our silence. That was his werewolf friend, who muttered, almost subconsciously,

"...Fuuuuck me she's hot..."

The words fell from his mouth in awe, and he double took and looked at his friends sheepishly when he realized he'd spoken out loud. I blushed at the unexpected compliment, their slack-jawed staring overwhelming. But I didn't have time to be flattered. The donor took control of the situation, ignoring his friend and stepping towards me, offering a hand and a sly grin.

"Sup? Did you get lost?"

I was confused by the innocent-seeming question, especially paired with his conniving smile. I warily took the offered hand, standing unsteadily, not able to bring my eyes up to meet any of theirs.

"Uhmm yeah... I'm... I just need... need to go..."

I hoped they would make way for me, but none moved at my mumbled excuse. They stood still for a second, until the organ donor stepped forward again, uncomfortably close. One pudgy hand fell onto my shoulder, and I could nearly see vapours from the alcohol on his breath as he adopted a husky, whispered affect,

"No bitch, you're right where you need to be."

His lank hair hung down over his face as he leaned in towards me. Combined with his sallow, scarred complexion, he had a strongly menacing quality. I gulped, and my stomach dropped; I wasn't getting out without an ordeal.

"Get on the fucking floor! I've been waiting to feed you my cock."

His hand began to apply pressure to my shoulder, forcing me down. But I had been working out a lot, and I was somewhat able to resist him, tensing my muscles, pushing upwards. Successful resistance bolstered my spirit, fueled a rush of frustration and indignation that gave me fire enough to meet his leer, though my excuses were still halting and timid.

"No uhmm... I... My friends are... are waiting for..."

When I didn't move with his hands pressure, his eyes narrowed with thinly veiled fury.

"Come on, are you saying we aren't friends?"

His smile was exaggerated to be almost manic, a fearful visage that sent tremors through my hands and legs. I became painfully aware of myself. Every inch of my exposed skin was vulnerable to their sick gazes, and the costume barely covered me where it was present; I could feel my nipples, standing out under the thin spandex in the cold bathroom air. The plug and cage, which I'd felt ambivalent about (to say the least), took on an even more dangerous, humiliating angle. What would they do if they found out? Sweat beaded on my forehead, and I could hear a rush of blood, a pounding in my ears.

A stall door creaked as it opened, and a fourth guy, wearing a black cloak with a scream mask in hand, slowly joined the proceedings, standing just behind his friends, eyeing me hungrily. I gulped again and shivered as my eyes flitted around the room, searching for an escape.

My heart leapt when the werewolf spoke up with misgivings,

"Yo, Sean, wait."

"Yeah?"

He, Sean, the fucking asshole, turned away from me, his hand still resting heavy on my shoulder, his tone impatient.

"I think she's Supergirl."

"Yes! Obviously! So?"

"So she probably came with that Superman..."

"...Yes! Obviously! So the fuck what?!"

"I'm just saying, he's pretty big... I wouldn't want to fuck with him..."

"What's he gonna do, use x-ray vision? If you're too pussy to get your dick wet, leave. Or watch the fucking door."

For a second, my hopes had soared. If they wouldn't spare me through basic human decency, fear of Jaxx would work just as well. But as I realized even that wouldn't work, the hopes came crashing back down again.

"Alright bitch, I'm bored. Get on the fucking floor."

His hand pushed down again, and this time I was forced to action. I dipped my shoulder under his grip, spun to get a step away from him, and shouted in defiance,

"No, creep!"

In my panic I'd forgotten how drunk and high I was, and my steps weren't as steady as I thought they would be. When I regained stability, my eyes swung up just in time to catch the hand that slapped me hard in the face, spun me around again, sent me stumbling back a few more steps until my back collided with the cold tiled wall.

"Oww..." I whined a low moan, hoping for sympathy, but didn't go to my knees. Fuck him. He was nothing compared to Jaxx.

He approached slowly; scavenger preying on a wounded animal. Behind him, the werewolf said something to the delivery guy, then turned and left the bathroom. Leaving me to my fate. Then Sean was in my face, his hands grabbing my chest, fat fingers roughly kneading my little breasts, tweaking my nipples cruelly.

"C'mon bitch. Open up."

I gasped in pain at his grabbing, pulled away into the corner of the room, fully trapped. But I wasn't giving up. Fuck this loser. I thought about Cindy and Jaxx less than a hundred feet from me, channeled the fiery churning feelings they provoked inside me.

Then I reared back and launched a ball of spit at my assailant, taking whatever opportunity I had bought myself, trying to run around one side and make a break for the door.

"Help! HEL--"

There was no warning for the sudden impact in my chest, knocking the wind out of me, my knees to the floor. I was gasping on all fours for a few seconds, before his cruel foot pushed one shoulder, forced me back to a sprawled seat on the wall, still heaving for air.

"Open up, bitch!"

When I'd regained control over my basic function, I found him standing over me, hospital gown pulled up and briefs pulled down to expose himself again.

He was was average sized, with an unkempt tangle of frizzy pubic hair. Against my clit, respectable. But I couldn't help but compare him to Jaxx, and in that regard, he was wanting; impotently furious in comparison to Jaxx's godlike raging cock.

But Jaxx wasn't there, and I didn't want to get hit again. I didn't really see any other choice before me.

So I took a deep breath and a leaned forward, pausing again as I approached the squat tip of his dick. My nose was assaulted by acrid body odor; not at all like the smooth, intoxicating musk that rolled from Jaxx's testicles. Then I took it in my mouth, grimacing at the taste that matched the smell, like he hadn't properly showered in a few days. He was hard as rock, and I could feel blood pumping through his member, but it just wasn't the same reality-bending gravity of Jaxx. Being faced with his crotch left me speechless and dumb, stuttering for words. Sean's made me cringe slightly at what I knew I had to do.

I began blowing him, tentatively, cringing, avoiding looking at him as I went. It was half-hearted at best; I was too aware of the lingering pain, too afraid of more violence, too ashamed of what I was doing, the situation I found myself in, my compliance with the asshole and his entourage of cowards and perverts. They stood behind him even now, one with his dick in hand, the other staring with obvious lust.

But my captor could tell my heart wasn't in it, and wasn't satisfied. He grabbed a messy handful of my hair so hard I thought he would pull some out, making me yelp pitifully as he shoved me towards the scream mask guy, who already had his dick out, beating it frantically.

"That's not good enough bitch. We know you're a fucking slut. You wouldn't dress like that if you weren't."

Though I despised this cowardly, cruel man and his pathetic friends, the words cut deep. I'd had the same thought earlier that night, in fact.

"You're going to have to work harder than that, or we'll open up that cunt. Make Donnie cum, then I'll take another shot at you. Pussy or mouth, show me what you need."

I glared at the fucking dickhead, who was taking near evil-villain levels of pleasure in his dastardly monologuing, gesturing grandly to the scream mask wearer. But his warning had got my attention. I couldn't afford for them to lose interest in my mouth and start paying attention to my other end. They might beat me up more-- or worse...

I shook the thoughts from my head. Not an option. And he wasn't wrong, I wasn't working as hard as I could. I had spent a lot of time with dicks recently; maybe I could use that to my advantage.

This was really just another kind of bullying. It was like being back in the locker rooms in high school, penned in by a group of jocks with coiled and wet towels, whipping at me. In that situation, I'd did what it took; played along, forced laughter along with the demeaning jokes and cruel snaps.

Now I just had to play along. Make the guys cum, as quickly and cleanly as possible. I was fairly confident I was up to the task; Jaxx had set a high bar length and girth and stamina and masculinity itself.

So I committed to the task. Pushing my doubts aside, I fell onto hands and knees and crawled to Donnie, who was staring at me in awe. The tiles were cold and dirty, but I kept my eyes glued in him, and ironically I felt like the predator stalking prey, as I used everything Cindy had taught me. I arched my back, widened my eyes, almost purred when my hand made contact with his slightly fatter than average dick.

I kept eye contact until I took his cock into my mouth, easily swallowing his whole length, vision obscured by folds of his black costume. As I knelt there, tongue swishing and licking, one hand lightly caressing where I thought his balls were, I marvelled at how easy it was.

How easy it was to switch on my slutty behaviour, submit for someone of relatively greater will. But it wasn't just mentally easy to worship a cock, it was physically easy. Jaxx's fat, ridiculous tool was so huge... All that these smaller dicks made me feel was nostalgia for his thick meat. I longed to feel him filling my mouth, stretching me open. They didn't even carry the same temperature Jaxx's blood did, the roiling, turgid flow that promised eruptions of volcanic extremity.

I was so absorbed by my fantasies of Jaxx that I almost swallowed when Donnie began bucking and shooting in my mouth. I managed to catch myself, instead collecting the sperm, which might have been a big load for him but was paltry compared to Jaxx. When he was done, and slumped backwards away from me, I spit out the mouthful of watery cum haphazardly on the floor, on my guard for the next assailant.