Delivery

"I disagree," he retorted. "I'm pretty sure it means that you want to fuck. And hey, good news, bitch – this house is full of men, and probably a handful of women, that would love to help you out with that."

"Please, just let me go and help me find my clothes!" she begged.

"I suppose I could," he laughed, "but judging from how easily George's fingers are sliding in and out of you I think you'd just resent it. You might not want to admit it, but you're a complete slut and this is exactly what you want."

"I am not," she moaned, hating herself for her inability to sound more serious and less lustful.

"Well, if you're going to insist on lying to me, I don't see how I can help you," Quinn sighed. "It's sad, really – again, I thought we were friends, Sam."

Samantha absolutely did not want to admit that she was a slut, but she didn't see what choice she had. It looked like Quinn was about to disappear again, and she had no idea how she would manage to get free and find him if that happened. On a deeper level, the fact that she was having difficulty holding back an orgasm was making it very difficult for her to believe that she wasn't every bit the slut that he claimed she was.

"Okay, wait," she moaned. "You're right, I'm a slut. Please help me now, Quinn? I need your help."

"If you say so," he shrugged. "Sorry, George, but it looks like Sam here needs me instead of you. Step away, but don't worry – I'm sure you'll get a turn later."

Unclear on what was going on, Samantha watched as George sighed deeply and backed away, withdrawing her fingers from her. Quinn approached her confidently, stopping mere inches away from her body. Maintaining eye contact, he reached down and slid his fingers back into her.

Quinn's dexterity managed to make George's efforts seem almost infantile. Expertly probing her while rubbing her clit, he drove her to distraction. It took all of Samantha's focus to remember that she wanted him to help her find her clothes, not get her off.

"That wasn't what I meant!" she moaned, feeling her legs begin to wobble. "I meant that I need you to help me find my clothes! I want you to stop all of this!"

"See, there you go hurting my feelings again," Quinn sighed. "Tell me, slut – what exactly am I doing wrong, here? You're clearly the expert on getting fingered by strangers, so enlighten me. How can I improve me technique?"

"It's not that," she cried. "Your technique is fine, but I just want to get dressed and go home!"

"Fine?" he shot back. "Come on, Sam, have a little respect for me. I know what women mean when they say something is 'fine'. It's the polite way to say inadequate. Frankly, my feelings are so hurt that I just don't feel like helping you at all."

Samantha wasn't quite sure how she should react. She knew that she wanted to get her clothes and go home, but she was having difficulty remembering why. She did, however, understand that it would be a bad idea to make Quinn angry at her.

"I'm sorry," she moaned. "I didn't mean it like that. Please accept my apology?"

"I'm not really looking for a verbal apology, bitch," Quinn growled. "We discussed the correct way for a slut like you to apologize earlier, I believe."

Samantha remembered how Quinn had referred to performing oral sex on him as an adequate way to apologize for hurting his feelings. At the time it had seemed out of the question, but things had since changed. Being relentlessly groped by countless strangers made the thought of going down on him seem comparatively far less slutty than it had earlier.

"Okay, wait," she blurted out. "I'll do it."

"Do what, slut?" Quinn laughed, continuing to expertly masturbate the helpless girl.

"I'll suck your dick," she whimpered, feeling terribly slutty just saying the words.

"You make it sound like such torture," he sighed. "That's rather personally insulting, you know. If you're truly sorry for your transgressions, you probably shouldn't act so disgusted."

Samantha was torn. Deep down, she did actually want to do what he was asking. Unfortunately, her desire to not be seen as the type of girl that would go down on a stranger that she had just met in a public place was preventing her from being open about that. Reminding herself that she did actually need Quinn to help her, she swallowed her pride and gave herself permission to be honest about her desires.

"I'm sorry," she began. "I didn't mean to imply that it would be torture. Please let me suck your dick, Quinn? I really, really want to. Please don't deny me the honor of taking your cock down my throat?"

"The 'honor'?" he laughed. "I suppose when you put it like that I just can't refuse her. Let her go, guys – I don't think she needs to be restrained for this."

The strangers obeyed Quinn, releasing their grips on Samantha's wrists and ankles. Freed, she briefly considered running but knew that she wouldn't. She tried to tell herself that it was because she knew that she'd be caught, but she knew it was really just because she didn't want to.

Dropping to her knees, she quickly undid Quinn's pants and pulled them down along with his underwear. As his semi-hard penis flopped out she hesitated briefly. Painfully aware that everyone in the room was watching her, she was struggling with the reality of what she was about to do.

Reminding herself that she had no choice, she reached up and wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft. As the roomful of strangers watched, she brought her face up to his groin and gave it a nervous lick. Realizing that she would need to do more, she inserted it into her mouth.

Quinn didn't seem pleased with her timid performance. Placing his hand on her head he ran his fingers through her hair and clamped down hard. Gripping tightly, he forced her to rapidly bob her head back and forth.

As Samantha allowed Quinn to take control of her actions, the other strangers in the room decided to get back in on the act. Again feeling their probing hands, Samantha considered trying to swat them away but thought better of it. She didn't like looking like a slut, but she could not deny that she was enjoying the stimulation. Besides, they were just squeezing and groping at the moment – it wasn't like anyone was sticking anything inside her.

The lack of poking didn't last, of course. After a few moments, she felt someone's fingers working their way into her vagina. The fingers felt thicker than Quinn's, but lacked his dexterity. Samantha considered swatting them away, but again chose not to. They might not have felt as good as Quinn's had, but they did feel good. Besides, from a kneeling position it was unlikely that too many people could see what they were doing.

After a few more moments, another set of fingers attempted to work their way into Samantha's vulnerable anus. She did attempt to swat those away – though she may have been overpowered by her lust, she wasn't about to let a stranger finger her ass. Unfortunately, the owner of the fingers didn't seem to care for her lack of consent. Grabbing her wrist, he held it down and slapped her hard across the ass. As the pain gradually dissipated, Samantha felt his finger working right back into her asshole. Jerking back, she forced Quinn's penis out of her mouth so that she could protest.

"Not in the ass!" she growled, hoping to make it very clear that that particular orifice was off-limits.

Quinn didn't seem to approve. Tightening his grip on her hair he pulled her head away from him, forcing her to look up. Holding her in position he brought his hand down across her face, slapping her roughly. It hurt, but Samantha was surprised to find that it also turned her on.

"It's not a good idea to give me orders," Quinn explained. "It's an even worse idea to stop sucking my dick to do so."

"I'm sorry," she pleaded, "but I don't want anyone putting anything in my ass!"

Quinn let out an exasperated sigh and shot Samantha a disapproving look. Visibly disinterested in her objections, he slapped her across the face again. Once more, Samantha found herself confused as her body grew more aroused from the rough treatment.

"Sluts like you don't get to be picky," he warned. "There's a lot of people at this party, you know. If we limit you to just your two preferred holes, I don't think that everyone will get a turn – and that just wouldn't be fair."

Samantha was terrified. She had hoped that she'd be able to get out of there having simply given Quinn a blowjob and allowed a few strangers to grope her; she didn't expect to actually have to have sex with anyone – much less anal sex. She wanted to argue, but couldn't think of anything that she could say that would result in anything other than another slap to the face.

Accepting that she wouldn't be able to talk Quinn out of it, she switched her focus back to performing oral sex on him. She hoped that she might be able to do a good enough job that he'd take mercy on her and protect her, but a part of her was looking forward to the abuse. Consciously she found the idea of being raped by a houseful of strangers to be terrifying, but she found it to be a major turn-on as well.

As Quinn again took control of Samantha's actions, the person who had been fingering her ass went back to work. Unable to protest verbally, Samantha merely groaned in humiliation as his fingers probed deeply into her. Unfortunately, her groans simply provoked more laughter and did nothing to stop his assault.

As the fingers began to pump in and out of her ass Samantha began to unwillingly enjoy the abuse. Although uncomfortable, the stimulation wasn't actually painful. As she began to adjust, she found that she quite enjoyed the feeling of being probed in all three holes. Her willpower rapidly dissolving, she realized that if everything kept up the way that it was she might actually reach orgasm.

As much as she would enjoy an orgasm, Samantha didn't think she could handle the humiliation that she knew she would experience if she actually managed to achieve one. In the hopes of distracting herself she poured her energy and focus into orally servicing Quinn. She figured that the sooner she got him off, the sooner the whole thing might end.

Quinn didn't exactly make it easy for her to cooperate, though. Gripping her hair hard he had complete control over her movements, and it didn't seem like he was planning to cede any of that control. Allowing him to control her head, Samantha focused on massaging his cock with her tongue.

As time progressed Quinn's control grew increasingly more violent. With each stroke that he forced he went a little deeper and a little faster, frequently gagging Samantha. As she felt the tip of his penis being forced repeatedly into her throat she considered protesting, but had no idea how to go about doing so. Instead she simply focused on preventing herself from vomiting.

Unfortunately, even Quinn's rough treatment wasn't enough to distract her from orgasm. The owners of the many hands that were on and in her body seemed to follow Quinn's lead, and had grown for more aggressive in their assault. Terrified at the thought of cumming in public Samantha again wrenched her head off of Quinn's penis, pulling her hair painfully in the process.

"You need to make them stop," she begged. "I'll suck your cock, I'll do anything else you want, but you need to tell your friends to take their hands off of me."

Quinn made her regret her demands quickly. Releasing a heavy sigh, he again slapped her hard across the face. Shooting her a disapproving look, he made it clear to her that he was displeased with her disobedience. Thoroughly intimidated, Samantha tried to lower her face submissively; but Quinn held her in place.

"Your facial expression tells me that I don't need to further remind you that you don't give the orders here," he observed. "Just the same, I'm feeling curious. Tell me, bitch – why exactly do you want my friends to stop?"

"I'm not a slut!" she proclaimed.

Looking more irritated than angry, Quinn again slapped Samantha across her face. She let out an involuntary moan, inspired by both Quinn's brutality and the relentless hands of his friends. Terrified, she realized that she wouldn't be able to hold off her orgasm much longer.

"We've discussed the importance of honesty, Sam," he sighed. "I thought we were past this – every single person in this house already knows you're a slut, so why hide it any longer? Regardless, you didn't answer my question. Why exactly do you want them to stop?"

"They're going to make me cum," she confessed tearfully, unsure of what else she could say but the truth. "Please don't make me cum like this, Quinn?"

"Of course they're going to make you cum, slut," Quinn laughed. "I mean, it's not exactly rocket science – shove things in a slut's holes and she'll inevitably cum. I just can't understand why that would be a problem for you."

Samantha racked her brain for an explanation, but was unable to come up with anything other than "I'm not a slut". She knew better than to attempt that explanation again – she didn't want to be slapped again, and she realized that her behavior was directly contradicting it anyway. Fortunately, rather than wait for an answer Quinn simply rammed his penis back into her mouth, sparing her from having to reply.

Realizing her orgasm was inevitable, Samantha stopped trying to hold back. As the hands and fingers continued to explore and probe her, she felt her orgasm begin. Moaning loudly into Quinn's crotch, she hoped that no one would notice, though it seemed unlikely. There were far too many people paying attention to her for everyone to miss it. Besides, Samantha's orgasms were rarely quiet.

As waves of orgasmic pleasure coursed through her body, Samantha gave up on any attempt to be subtle. She knew she'd probably regret her openly slutty behavior later, but that was the last thing on her mind. Arching her back and grinding her hips back to meet the probing fingers that violated her, she let everyone know exactly what was going on.

As Samantha's orgasm gradually wound down Quinn pulled her head off of his cock. Looking around, Samantha saw that every eye in the room was still focused on her, and most were quietly laughing. Once her orgasm finally ended, the strangers began to applaud; amplifying Samantha's shame.

"That sure didn't take you long," Quinn laughed. "You know, for a girl that claims she isn't a slut, your behavior doesn't exactly agree. I mean, most decent women wouldn't strip naked in a house full of strangers and then cum so loudly when being finger-fucked in front of an audience."

Her face bright red, Samantha began to weep tears of shame. She wanted to tell him that he was wrong, that this wasn't who she was, but she couldn't even convince herself. She tried to lower her face to hide from everyone's laughter but Quinn sadistically held it high, letting everyone see her clearly.

Rather than force her back into orally servicing him, Quinn pulled Samantha to her feet. Her legs still wobbly from the powerful orgasm she had just experienced, she followed Quinn as he led her to the kitchen island. Pushing on her back, he bent her down over it. With Samantha bent over the island, Quinn's friends quickly grabbed her wrists and held her down.

As Quinn reached between Samantha's legs she considered clenching them shut but decided not to. Doing so would make it difficult to balance, but more importantly she had little interest in blocking his advances. Sliding two fingers inside of her, Samantha quickly remembered how skillful he was. Feeling that she had already sunk as low as she possibly could, she began to moan loudly as Quinn masterfully fucked her with his fingers.

"And you claim you aren't a slut," Quinn laughed. "Less than a minute after you came, and you're already good to go again. Tell me, bitch – what kind of a woman do you think behaves like that?"

"A slut," Samantha lustfully admitted.

"Good girl," Quinn praised. "Since you're being so honest with me, I think you deserve a reward. You obviously enjoy getting fingered by strangers, but I'm betting that you'll like the real thing even better."

Samantha thought about asking him to reward her by helping her to find her clothes instead, but it seemed silly. It didn't seem like the kind of request that he would agree to, and she wasn't even sure that she really wanted it. Though still terrified and deeply ashamed of her behavior, she couldn't ignore how much she was enjoying her abuse.

Removing his hands from her crotch, Quinn slowly guided the head of his penis into Samantha. As Samantha moaned in lust, he slowly pushed into her. Though Samantha had been extremely turned on, she felt as though his massive cock was stretching her to her very limits.

"You like this, don't you slut?" Quinn laughed. "You've only known me for a few minutes, and already you're taking my cock while my friends watch. Tell them what you are, bitch."

"I'm a slut," she moaned lustfully.

"Goddamned right," he growled, picking up speed. "And guess what, slut? As soon as I'm finished with you, they're all going to take turns too. How's that make you feel?"

Samantha wanted to lie and say that it made her feel disgusted, but she didn't see the point to it. Quinn obviously had figured out how she reacted to public humiliation and it was unlikely that she'd be able to fool him. Besides, everyone must have already assumed that she was the biggest slut in the world, so it wasn't like lying would buy her back any dignity.

"I fucking love it," she confessed. "I don't want to, but it makes my cunt wet."

"Of course it does, slut," he replied. "And yet, you rudely asked me to tell them to stop earlier. Correct yourself, bitch. Tell them how much you enjoy their attention, and how much you'd like them to continue."

Asking Quinn's friends to continue molesting her seemed a bit much for Samantha but she didn't really have a choice. She did want them to continue, and Quinn didn't sound like he was asking. Besides, with him fucking her from behind at least her asshole was safe – the worst they could do would be to continue groping her breasts.

"I'm sorry I pretended I didn't like it earlier when you were groping me," she announced to no one in particular. "Please accept my apology and use me however you see fit."

They didn't need to be told twice. No sooner did Samantha finish her apology then she felt countless hands running all over her skin, converging on her breasts and ass. As they squeezed and groped her sensitive flesh, she felt another orgasm rapidly building.

"Dude, you need to switch to a different position," someone stated. "We can't finger her asshole like this, you know?"

"What do you think, slut?" Quinn asked. "Is your asshole getting all neglected and lonely? Do you want to switch to a different position so my friends can stick their fingers – or anything else they feel like – in your back door?"

Samantha really didn't want to answer the question. The truth was that she did secretly want someone to finger her ass again, but she didn't want to admit it. In her mind, anal sex just wasn't something that normal girls did – it was reserved for whores and sluts, and should be avoided at all costs. It seemed so disrespectful and dirty to her. Unfortunately, those very qualities made it extremely desirable as well. She could accept that she wanted it, but she wanted to be forced so that she could absolve herself of any moral guilt.

Quinn, however, didn't seem to have meant the question rhetorically. Pulling out, he slapped her ass hard before inserting himself back into her. Realizing that she'd have to give an answer, Samantha decided she may as well tell him the truth.

"I do," she admitted.

Pulling his cock out of her again, Quinn grabbed Samantha by her hair. After jerking her upright, he led her back into the living room, using her hair as a leash. Taking a seat on the couch, he motioned for her to straddle him.