tagNonConsent/ReluctanceLife Without Context

Life Without Context


There's a party tonight, some big get-together at Darryl's house 'just to hang out and be cool' he'd said. Bah, if something weird doesn't happen by the end of the night, I will be extremely surprised.

I'm at Lexi's house, standing in front of a mirror and trying to get it so my boobs aren't falling out of the top she's got me in while surveying the entire outfit.

A short tube top that barely covers my breasts, a skirt that will probably merge with the shirt by the end of the night if I'm not careful, fishnet stockings, high heels, a thong (Of all things) and gloves that go up to my elbows.

All of this is black, and I'm wearing dark red lipstick.

"What do you think?" Lexi comes out of her closet, dressed in pretty much the same way as me.

"We look like hookers." Lexi sprays herself with a bit of perfume. "Cheap hookers."

"C'mon. With what we do on a regular basis 'hooker' is probably a step up the morality ladder." Lexi laughs at her little joke, even though it really didn't make any sense.

She walks over and places her hands on my shoulders, looking at our reflections. "Look, Cali. This is what we're wearing to the party tonight. Trust me, you look hot." She runs a hand through my hair, grinning at the mirror.

She lets go of my shoulders and walks over to her bed, grabbing our bags. She tosses me mine as she heads to the door.

"So," I say, sliding my bag over my shoulder and pressing a hand to the wall to avoid falling over as I try to walk in the heels. "You've been to these parties before, right?"

"Oh yeah, plenty of 'em." Lexi grabbed my arm to help me down the stairs, a wild grin on her face.

"What are they like?"

"Well..." She drags the word out, rolling it across her tongue. "You know the base level of morals for the group, right?"

"Yeah," I nod, I know them all too well.

"Let's just say that whatever happens during these parties, you won't forget it." And before I can ask what she means, we're at the car and she's pushing me into it.

The drive to Darryl's house isn't too long, and soon I find myself staring in awe at the mansion as we drive into the opening in the forest.

"Darryl lives here?" I can feel my jaw dropping in shock. I don't really give a damn.

Lexi laughs. "Yes. Yes he does. I was surprised at first too." She navigated her car around the other cars parked around the yard and came to a stop under a tree. "I was about your age, I think."

We get out of the car and head for the door, Lexi holding my arm so I don't fall, and I look around the yard.

We reach the door and Lexi rings the doorbell, leaning against the frame and giving her most sultry grin.

The door opens, and the first thing the men do when they see us is run their eyes up and down our bodies and suddenly I feel like a piece of meat.

Lexi just gives a little chuckle, leaning over and running her fingers up one guys shirt, and I don't like the grin that comes onto his face.

"Hey hottie." Lexi's voice is low, her body pressing into this guy and I don't think I've ever seen him before.

His hand winds around Lexi and its sliding up under her skirt and the other two are looking at me and-

"Heyyyy, Cali!" Darryl! Yes! Thank you, my knight in shiny clothing!

I grin at Darryl as he pushes through the other two guys and grabs my wrist, pulling me into the house. "I was wondering when you'd show up, girl."

"Um..." I glance back. "Should we be leaving Lexi with those guys?" They were already crowding her and pulling her into another room.

"Eh, she'll be fine." And he just dismisses it so casually and easily that I'm hard-pressed not to believe him. "So how are you doin'?"

I shift my bag on my shoulder as we come to a stop in the living room, where at least twenty people are scattered around, on couches, against walls, on a table that's in the middle of the room for some reason. "Oh, uh, I've been good? I guess?"

Darryl chuckles and leads me to the bar, making me sit on a bar stool as he walked behind it. "Well, that's always good to hear."

He opens a beer and pours it into a cup, letting it fizz for a bit before taking out a vial of pink liquid and pouring it in.

He swivels the drink around to mix it before handing it to me, a grin on his face.

"What's this?" I ask, sniffing the drink. It smells a bit like raspberries.

"Just some beer with our little special ingredient." Darryl gives me a wink, and I roll my eyes. I consider mentioning that I'm only sixteen, but I don't think that would be the best argument given some of the things I've already done probably outweigh 'underage drinking' on the morality scale.

"I'm not sure I want to drink this, D." I shift around a bit; these clothes are still pretty uncomfortable. I seriously wish I'd worn something else, to hell with what Lexi says.

Darryl rolls his eyes. "C'mon, Cali. It's just a Dose. Something to help you lighten up a bit." He leans in conspiratorially. "You're not afraid are you?" He waggles his eyebrows.

This is one of those moments, the ones my mom used to tell me about, where I should get up and leave and not give into peer pressure. Where I should refuse the damn drink and walk away. Where I should be reaching for the Pokeballs in my bag in case someone gets a bit too upset by me saying no.

There are a lot of things I should be doing. Instead I give Darryl my best smirk and bring the cup to my lips, tilting it back and taking a large gulp.

Darryl grins and pats my shoulder as he pours some more beer into my cup. "Good girl, let me know if you want anymore."

"Yeah, yeah," I chuckle, sipping the concoction as I walk over to the couch.

I sit down, drinking some more and listening to Jay as he talks about a near miss he'd had with the police not long ago. Everyone is eating it up and Jay's really the only one who notices me sit by him, as evidenced by him laying a hand on my knee for a brief moment before returning to his story.

Something about that touch was different than I'm used to, it stays on my skin even after Jay's hand has long since returned to his own lap.

My fingers trail along where his hand was, a shiver running through my body at the burning sensation this action causes. My face is flushing and my cup slips from my hands.

Jay's next to me, laughing at some joke one of the other's told, I feel like I should laugh too but all I can focus on are his lips and his tongue and it's hot in here and my skin is burning.

He turns to look at me and suddenly I'm pressing my lips into his, a moan sliding in between us and suddenly I find myself in his lap, my hands on his shoulders and his on my waist.

I know that they're looking at us, I know that it should bother me, but all I can focus on is that I need Jay. Right now.

A fog is sliding into my mind, and the kiss is broken and he is lifting me up and when I open my eyes and all I can see are his bright, bright eyes.

He pushes me onto a table, where did that come from? I can't bring myself to care.

His hands are on my breasts, squeezing them through the thin fabric and I can feel a burning from the barely-there touches, like an itch that's right under your skin that you can never get to no matter how hard you try.

I can hear voices in the background, jeers and cat calls as he spread my legs so that the already short skirt I'm wearing rides up, I know that the voices should mean something but all they are is another part of the background noise that the blood pounding past my ears has become.

His fingers hook onto my panties, the ripping sound they make as he tears them off is like the crack of a drum to signal the tempo picking up. And suddenly his fingers are there, probing me as his other hand pushes me so that I fall back onto the table. I might have let out a throaty moan, but I might be doing a lot of things right now.

His fingers are there, stretching me and scraping along and – Oh god that right there – and I can hear the voices in the background, even if the words make no sense at all.

"Girl can't hold her drink." -"Naw, man, you kidding? Girl's probably never had a dose before." - "Well I get her next, after Jay's done."

"You'll get your turn. But you'll have to wait." That voice, that one I recognize, and I lift my head up to see him, but when I open my eyes there's this layer of fog between us and I can't see his face but I can feel him down there. Stretching, scratching, twisting.

And suddenly he's gone, I close my eyes again and my head falls back on the table with a whimper.

A sucking sound, a zipper, and louder cheers are all sounds that are suddenly forced from my mind as my wrists are pinned to the table and something warm and hard is pressed into me.

A flash of pain, a scream, is it me screaming? I think it's me. Because right now this hurts and even with the barrier of lust and fog holding me in my mind I know that whatever's hurting me is going fast and hard in and out, in and out, in and out.

And a small pain where my neck meets my shoulder, teeth pressing roughly into my skin and not letting go, the grip on my wrists tightening, and the pace unforgiving.

The screams have stopped, replaced by heavy breathing that's battling the pounding in my head for being the loudest sound, and I can feel the pain ebbing and being replaced by a burning. I'm burning, and cries are slipping from my lips as he picks up speed, and some part of me tries to match him for it, my hips jolting into him.

Well, I guess he didn't like that, because he jerks himself down into me that makes a flash of color crack across my brain like a lightning bolt and suddenly he's gone. His hands gone from my wrists, his teeth from my shoulder, and he's pulled himself out of me.

I want to get up, to apologize for whatever I did so we can get back to doing that, because it made me feel good and I want to keep doing it... But I can't move, there's a spark coursing through my body and I feel like it's just on the edge of destroying me, and I want it to, but all I can do is lay there and pant like an animal in heat.

I don't know how long he leaves me alone, I can hear a low murmur of noise from just beyond my mind, but the spark is fading away before anyone touches me again.

I know right away that the hands on my hips aren't his, too big, too warm, but they're pulling me up so that I'm standing and one slips below and strokes me in a way that makes any thoughts of leaving I might have had go out the window.

I open my eyes and try to look at the foggy figure that towers above me, but I don't get a very good look.

The hands turn me around and push me back onto the table, on my knees and hands, and they push my skirt up once more.

A sharp pain across my backside, I cry out and can hear the jeers the noise gets, the pain comes again, and again, and again, and my cries turn to whimpers and I try to find the air that the pains forced out of me.

And the hands are on my hips again, gripping them hard and I can feel bruises forming and a low laugh comes from behind me and suddenly he's pressing into me as well.

He's bigger than the one before him, and I cry out in a combination of pain and the burning need as he presses all of himself into me.

He doesn't pull himself immediately out, instead grinding his hips against me until the pain is completely gone and I such a shivering mess that my arms can hold me up anymore and I fall forward onto the table.

Maybe he takes that as his invitation, or maybe he's bored with just grinding, I don't know why exactly but suddenly he's pulled out of me and slammed back in, jolting me forward.

His hands tighten on my hips, and the small pain that brings to me mixes with the burning and even through the haze on my brain I can hear every grunt, every moan, and every whispered obscenity that the man behind me is saying as he rams in and out of me at an even faster pace than before.

The spark is back, and every single inch of my body is on fire as it runs through me, building up and getting stronger until it pushes me over the edge with a scream.

As I lay there, the spark refusing to leave even after it pushed me down, the man behind me continues pounding into me, his grunts deeper and more guttural, and one hand leaving my hips only to start smacking my rear once more.

He continues for what I know to be forever, and the sparks starting to build back up again when he gives a particularly loud grunt and something alien pools inside of me as he pulls out.

The fog is still there, the need is still there, but no one is there to help me with it. I can only let out a whimper and fall over.

More murmurs in the background, more sounds of people moving around, and a new set of hands is on me, grabbing my shirt and pulling at it roughly until it's gone and thrown off to some faraway corner.

My eyes peak open at this one as he cups my breast and twists my nipple in a way that makes me melt a bit as a moan comes from my throat.

He sharply changes directions after making the moans slip from my throat for a long while, squeezing my breast painfully until I cry out.

The fog is still there in my mind, but I can hear the twisted laugh this one gives as he continues to press his sharp –sharp- fingernails into my breast and starts tugging at my shoes, and then my socks are torn off, and then my skirt. And suddenly I feel a lot more exposed than before.

His hand leaves my breast but before I can even inhale for a sigh of relief he's pressing his fingers into me, and it's not like from before where it felt nice, his fingernails are really sharp and they make small cuts along my walls and I can feel blood start to trickle out of them.

The fingers are gone, replaced by a set of lips and a tongue. The tongue probes its way inside of me, and it feels good again, a moan sliding from my lips.

Then his tongue flicks along one of the cuts, and a flash of pain makes me cry out. And I don't know what he's thinking but his tongue starts probing along that cut, going faster and harder as if my cries of pain were screams of encouragement.

After he continues to press his tongue into the cuts until I'm sure that tears are slipping out of my eyes, his mouth leaves. For a moment I feel relief, maybe he's done like the others, but then he's leaning over me and I can feel his breath on my face and he's pressing himself into me just like the others did and it hurts as he scrapes against the cuts but he silences me by roughly covering my mouth with his own.

His tongue is trying to push my lips apart but I keep them closed as tight as I can as he humps against me like a rutting animal.

His hands are on my breasts, squeezing them tightly enough that all I can do is gasp in pain, and that's all he needs for me to do as he forces his tongue into my mouth.

He tastes like a penny, and his tongue presses down against mine and I wish I could fight back but it just hurts and even with the pain I'm still burning and he pinches his fingers into my nipples and it hurts and feels good and I just don't know anymore.

His tongue leaves my mouth and he starts biting my lips, biting them hard and sucking them and then digging his teeth in until my mouth tastes like metal.

He's moving against me like I'm just some piece of flesh for him, maybe I am. I certainly don't anything else about myself right now besides the burning and the haze and the spark that runs through me.

His entire body stiffens and I can feel him pulsing as he empties himself into me, the thought makes some part of me feel sick. But he gives my upper lips the same treatment as my lower one and then he's gone.

I shiver and pull my legs into my chest. The fog is still there and the spark is still vibrating deep inside me, but I don't want him near me again.

A new set of hands, I want to move away from them, I want to get out of this fog and see everyone's faces, and I want to... I want to...

The hands skim across my body, gentle and soft. Small and feminine. One of the women? Why...

The hand finds its way between my legs (when did I let them down) and slowly starts stroking gentle circles around my entrance, not coming inside me, but staying there as another hand comes up and cups one of my breasts, moving it around in her hand as she starts kissing behind my ear.

All thoughts of the man before drain from my mind, and all I know are those hands and those lips and the spark and the burning and oh god never stop.

The second spark consumes me, slowly lighting every part of my body on fire as I burn in the woman's arms. She holds me through it, and keeps rubbing me even after its gone.

I open my eyes, the fog is still there, but not as thick as before. I can see another man approaching me and several more looking at me like I'm the a glass of cold water and they've been stuck in the desert for an eternity.

The woman's hands leave me, and the man slowly presses himself inside of me. And all I can do is grind my hips against him and lose myself in the sensations.

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