Melody's Open Invite Gangbang Ch. 12

Some fans were not just satisfied to dwell on the physical aspects of her exposure. They were more interested in the psychological revelations her story suggested. A couple dedicated, perhaps obsessive, users had an ongoing series of lengthy psychological profiles and theories written out about her. She was disturbed by how accurate they were. They had developed them through in depth studies of her life, of all material she had ever posted or said. Through discussions with her former acquaintances. Through existing academic thought and gut feeling.

"She indulges and recoils from her self-destructive instincts in equal measure, the ratio ever changing. She despises her situation yet is driven deeper and deeper into it through visceral reaction, learned helplessness, and sheer circumstance. I suspect she was somehow tricked or coerced into the initial stages. She would have never taken the step on her own. But from there, it snowballed and there was no turning back."

This was a growing consensus, that her supposed willingness in her initial public gangbang which started all this was fabricated. Analysis of her application video to the dom service proved inconclusive, but this line of thought had gained traction. But this seemed to only excite them further. Her subsequent depravity she had been talked into was real. Her pleas to be relentlessly shamed and fucked without discretion were real. Her orgasms and wetness were real.

Late one night she sat on the floor of her bedroom, flipping through old pictures of herself that someone had found and posted in some collection online. The cum of three men she didn't know was pooling in the crotch of her panties and she just sat in it. She hadn't bothered to even take them off since getting home. She looked so wholesome in the pictures. Not really so different than she did now, if you didn't know any better. But she was this. Whoever had posted the images had scattered occasional photos of her getting gangbanged or bukkaked throughout the gallery, as they liked to do so much. The contrast between what was and what came later. She clicked from one image to the next. There she was at her 18th birthday party. There she was with her face under an inch of cum. There she was in her awkward senior pictures that she hadn't even wanted to take. There she was sucking cum from a used condom.

A new wave of loneliness hit her. This is what she was. Who would love this, or take it seriously? Who would want to marry or love this girl when any of their friends or anyone on the street could just look up video of her doing everything a woman's body could be made to do? Who would want her when they knew how conquered she was? No one wants to be the 1,200th man on the moon.

It suddenly hit her, more vividly than it ever had, that everyone she had ever known knew about this stuff. Anyone who had ever known her or had an opinion of her had since had that opinion recalibrated to knowing that she was the kind of girl who ate the contents of 90 used condoms in a row. For a long time she had allowed herself to think that only some people knew, or that maybe some vague rumors swirled here and there, but this had become increasingly hard to believe. Now it hit her, with absolute certainty, that there was no way anyone from back home didn't know. It would have been huge news in her fairly small community. And this meant that every single man she'd ever known had seen her do all the filthiest things on earth. There was exactly a 0% chance that a man would hear about that stuff and then not find an opportunity to look it up. He might not admit it. He would of course express disgust to his wife or any females around him, but he would absolutely look, probably many times. Sweet, proper, quiet Melody Ainsley became a gangbang cumwhore overnight, with her shame spread far and wide online? They absolutely looked the first chance they got.

Every. Single. Man. She had never really allowed herself to think about it, or had been in denial. But after seeing all the action on the forums, she knew it was true. This was a secret from no one. Probably a good number of these former friends and acquaintances had become "fans" and followed her obsessively. She already knew that some of her old teachers had, and had joined in on one of her previous gangbangs. Her own father and brother had probably been unable to resist the morbid curiosity. They had to confirm it for themselves. Images of all the different men she'd known in her life flashed through her head, a fresh burst of panic and humiliation hitting her for every new person she considered who had seen her content. They'd probably looked at all of it. Seen her pushing her groin muscles out until her rectum turned inside out and prolapsed and billowed out of her asshole, leaking cum. What was even the fucking point of trying to be a normal person or worry about further humiliation at this point anyway? Who was she kidding?

She went into the kitchen and grabbed a mostly full liter of vodka from above the sink. It belonged to her roommate. She didn't care. The cold bitch was out of town anyway. She took a big swig as she walked back to her room.

She scrolled through the forums as she took sip after sip of the vodka. She rarely drank. It burned and made her wince as it went down, but she kept forcing sips down. She wanted to feel something other than anxiety.

She read through post after post of people disparaging her and detailing their fantasies and wishes for her. Someone described his desire to see her do a donkey show in a Tijuana whorehouse. People posted images in a thread dedicated to sharing their favorite parts of her body. They had plenty of photos and videos of each and every bit to share. Many were predictable: her asshole, her labia, the soles of her feet. But some were more interested in the tiny details that made a person so unique. The soft little bump right on the crest of the Cupid's bow on her lips, which had been there since birth. The little cluster of tiny freckles on her taint, right above her anus. A detail so small and private that maybe one man ever in her life should have noticed it, but now it was being discussed by legions of invested strangers, stored on a hundred hard-drives. She drank and fiddled her clit with one hand in her panties as she browsed, the leftover cum from the three men who had fucked her on her way home coating her fingers. She ran a finger up and down her vulva, collecting more of the slick fluid to rub into her bead.

She could feel the alcohol hitting her. Her face flushed warm. She was breathing hard. She switched between rubbing her clit and stuffing several fingers into her vagina, feeling the walls of that well-traveled canal. Despising it. Internalizing the derision that the entire male sex seemed to harbor for her. Who was she to dispute their assertions, their characterizations of her? Had she not proven them correct, time and again?

Before she realized it, she was properly drunk. The bottle was still three quarters full. Her vision swam slightly as she watched a video of herself filling a large cup from the tub of piss she was sitting in, then drinking it. She felt wet tears rolling down her face. She hated herself. She was completely soaked. Her fingertips were starting to prune from being soaked in the cum and pussy juice in her panties.

She grabbed her roommate's laptop from her room and opened it up back in her own. No password. She pulled up her old Facebook account and logged right in. It had been deactivated, but came back as soon as she signed on.

She made a status. Her vision was nearly doubled.

"Hey guysm rememeber me? The slut you all love to shittalk. If youve wanted to say soemthing to me ever, message me now and say it."

She posted it with an emphatic click.

People started publicly commenting on the status, and reacting to it right away. Most of the comments were people tagging their other friends so they would see it. People clearly found it amusing. She took another swig of vodka.

Time started skipping. She realized she was truly drunk now, but she didn't care. She saw her fingers typing rapid, typo-riddled responses to the host of messages that had flooded in from former acquaintances. People asked if it was really her. Guys she had only barely known in school asked her for nudes. A girl she had been distantly friendly with asked her why she was doing this to herself.

Many guys were rude or mean to her. She gave it right back to them in her inhibition-free state. She was still crying, sad, angry, horny, belligerent, all rolled into one.

Soon she faded into lucidity for a moment to find herself in front of the webcam, broadcasting on Facebook Live. She knew it was a terrible, humiliating idea, but she didn't care. Right now, that's exactly why she wanted to do it.

"Is thish what you guys want to see?" she slurred at the camera, lifting her shirt up and baring her tits for several seconds. "That why you tuned in? To see the spectacle?"

She stood up and walked a few feet away so the camera could see her whole body. She stripped off all of her clothes and held her arms out to her sides in a sort of gesture of conciliatory presentation of her nudity.

"This is what you're here for right?"

She sat back down in front of the camera and watched as the reactions and comments from her former "friends" poured in. She knew she was visibly drunk. She didn't care. She took more swigs of vodka on camera. She flitted in and out of lucidity. She was very nearly blacked out and operating on autopilot. She was following the commands of guys on screen. She slapped herself in the face. She sucked on her big toe. Whatever her initial impulse to do this was, it now served just to prove them all right about her.

She was soaking wet. She was glad she was a ruined whore. She fished the remnants of stale cum out of her cunt and licked it off her fingers. She told her audience what she was doing. She was on the bed with the laptop now. She laid back and lifted her bare pussy and ass up to the screen. She pulled her labia open wide for them.

"I'm a filthy fucking whore who no one should ever respect," she said. She was now drunk enough that it would not be until days later, when she could stomach to watch the footage, that she would even remember what she said or did from this point on.

She stumbled to the front door and unlocked it, even leaving it open a crack. When she got back to the webcam she gave out her exact address.

"My front door is wide open," her blacked out, hormone-raging brain made her say. "If you've ever wanted to fuck me and you're anywhere in the LA region, now is your chance."

Surely some of her old classmates lived around here now. Even more certain was the fact that this video was being watched by legions of her dedicated fans who had caught wind of it. She rubbed her clit for them and let her pussy obviously pour forth with juice at the thought of all who were watching her debase herself at this very moment.

"I am a fucking whore. You were all right. This body doesn't even belong to me anymore. I've fucked one thousand, one hundred and seventy three men. Come get it too, if you want it."

She was operating in total blackout mode by the time the first guys showed up. She could speak back and forth to people, react and move more or less like a normal person, but her brain was recording none of it. Three guys showed up at once, waltzing right in the open front door, about thirty minutes after she had first given out her address. She took all three of them at once, right in front of the Facebook live audience.

More came. She slurred drunken encouragement at them. She openly berated herself for being such a nasty, worthless slut. The room slowly filled over the next couple hours. She encouraged guys to cum balls deep in her. She kept a tally of the first score of guys that she would shout out loud after each new one took his place inside her.

"Alright, number 12!" she called as she felt his hot cum gushing into her. "Thank you number 12. Who's number 13?"

Number 13 took her hard. Then number 14, number 15. She berated herself in a voice that almost didn't even sound like her own, higher pitched, and shrill, almost hysterical, like she was fighting the urge to weep as she said it. "I'm a worthless fucking whore, please use my holes."

She thanked each man who used her. She wrapped her pale naked legs around them and pulled their hips into her as they came, looking up into their eyes with a pitiful look on her face as she repeated things like "Yes, thank you. Ruin me. Please fucking ruin me," to each one in turn.

And they did. The video kept rolling, the door stayed open, and man after man filed in, stayed a while, took a turn. Word had spread fast on the forums, and plenty of her fans were near enough in the LA area to make it. It soon became a scene of general festivity and debauchery, all aimed at her. By 3 AM the living room was filled with perhaps 20 men, and some had already left and more were on their way. They continued to feed her alcohol and stimulants, but they weren't even needed. Her brain was already hardly functionally present. She fucked them wildly, with more gusto and enthusiasm than she had ever done in her past gangbangs. A seemingly eager participant in the degradation and exploitation of the body and soul of the being she controlled.

Up through about the 30th guy of the night she was still speaking to them with sentences. Her face was turned sideways, right into the camera, as she panted, taking a man's hard thrusts who lay atop her.

"Everyone watching this needs to know that Melody Ainsley wants complete strangers to cum in her unprotected cunt," she huffed, her face shining with sweat. "It's all true. No one should ever date me or love me or want me beyond my holes. You'd be dating a used up whore."

Soon after this she devolved into simpler, one word utterances, and eventually into just animalistic moans and gasps and vocalizations. The only way she ever found out exactly what happened to her this night, and how many men ended up using her, was through the archived video, which was of course duplicated and spread far and wide by fans. Once she was only responsive through grunts the guys seemed to amp up what they tried on her. Each guy's aggression and escalation then spurred his successor to push things even further.

By 5 AM the 55th cock of the night entered her, and the man had her sphincter choking his wrist at the same time. Another guy was shoving a super-length dildo he had brought into her throat at the same time, making it distend visibly over and over. She wretched over and over but didn't fight him. All the contents of her stomach had already been vomited out onto cocks in the preceding hours.

They continued on with her well into daylight. She was further plied with alcohol and drugs, her lizard brain accepting them without question. They used her every which way and she did not resist them. They used her hard. They fucked every hole, often at once. Most guys took a turn at fisting her in either her cunt or asshole. Her body continuously provided ample lubrication for them. They seemed to enjoy loosening her up, seeing how much they could wreck her pussy for the next guy.

"Fuck, her goddamn holes are used," one newcomer commented in amazement as he sank bareback into her cunt. "I've never felt a bitch this fucking loose in my life." He pulled his dick out and slipped effortlessly into her asshole instead, commenting that it wasn't that much better.

Guys jerked their cocks off with her feet, her longish toes wrapping around their shafts, her bright red toenail polish shining through the cum. They pinched her nipples so hard she would have screamed her vocal chords raw had she been remotely sober. They pressed their lips against and sucked every bit of her skin, hard, until she was covered in hickeys. They slapped her as hard as they could, until her body was covered in welts and bruises. They shoved her face into the carpet, ass up, and played a game where they fucked her doggy style, thrusting into her so hard that they scooted her across the living room floor inch by inch, thrust by thrust. They would fuck her from one side of the room to the other, and then back again, over and over, until her face and knees were scraped raw and bleeding from rugburn. They found a pack of little baby oranges in the kitchen and shoved all of them, one by one, into her rectum, and then packed them further in by taking turns fucking her in the ass, stuffing them in like little cannonballs, until her internal muscles accepted them and swallowed them somewhere deeper in her intestines. She didn't even know until two days later when her bowels finally shifted them back down and she painfully shit each one out in turn. After this they raided her roommate's room and found several pairs of dirty panties. These they stuffed into Melody's cunt and mouth until she was overflowing at both ends with the other girl's soiled undergarments.

Around 6 pm that next day it was finally put to an end. The apartment landlord had caught wind of the situation and arrived and threw everyone out, threatening to call the police. The place emptied out quickly. This is where the video ended. It wasn't until she revisited the video weeks later that she saw the extent of what had happened. 118 new cocks had entered her total as a result of her drunken, broken invitation, as was well-documented on the forums. Bringing her to 1,291, lifetime count.

She came to sometime the morning after this. She woke up sick and disoriented, as nauseous and hungover as she had ever been in her life. She was in some bed in a strange apartment one of her fleeing fans had dragged her to, although this took her several minutes to piece together. Her eyelids were still glued shut with cum when she first tried to open them. She actually had to pry each one open with her fingers to see. She was alone in the bedroom. The blinds were drawn and the door shut. Her head was pulsing, her throat was so dry that it clenched and stung, and every inch of her body felt like it was damaged somehow. It felt like she had been in a car wreck.

She finally willed herself to get up. She swung her feet to the floor and made her way to the adjoining bathroom. She was still naked. She turned on the light but before she even looked at herself in the mirror she turned on the faucet and gulped down handful after handful of water. Finally she stood up and saw herself.

She had hazy recollections of bits and pieces of the previous day, but very little context or fidelity. She knew men had come over to her apartment, at her own hysterical, defeated invitation, but she could not remember how many or what had happened. But from the looks of herself it had been an utter hedonist bonanza inflicted on her.

Her hair was a wreck, pointing in every direction and matted with thick sheets and globs of dried cum all over. Several strands were stuck in stiff clumps to her face. Dried cum peeled off like glue on nearly every inch of her body. She spread her toes and fingers and discovered it stuck there too. Her tits were horribly bruised in huge splotches of purple, black, blue and green, as were various other places on her stomach and legs and ribs and ass. Her nipples were raw and surrounded with teeth marks of varying sizes. Terrible rugburn rashes opened her skin all over her knees and face. She was covered in welts and what looked like cigarette burns in a few places. A stream of dried blood ran from her nose. The corners of her mouth were ripped open, and her lower lip was busted open. The raw, red hot pain still pulsing from her pussy and asshole spoke for itself. She couldn't bring herself to look at them.

She sat in the shower for as long as she could, running the water nearly scalding hot until it ran out of heat. A ritual she had now experienced a few times. She didn't even know where she was, and still hadn't seen whoever owned this apartment she was now in, didn't know what else he planned for her. The dried semen covering her skin and hair became viscous and tacky again in the water. She wiped it from her face and felt the slick substance slide between her fingers. There was barely enough shampoo in the shower for her to feel like her hair was clean. Her whole body felt like one pulsing terminus of pain. It was the sacrifice her body was expected to bear to bring unlimited pleasure to men. She had never been so sore all over in her life. Not even after her group assaults in prison. She just hoped that there was no internal damage.