Melody's Open Invite Gangbang Ch. 12

She finally got out and dried off. She had to ransack the stranger's drawers for some oversized clothes she could put on. Boxers that she tied on with a belt, and a t shirt 3 sizes too big for her that acted basically as a dress. She tepidly entered the living room and found the guy passed out on the couch, several empty cans of beer next to him. His cock was out and there were two opened packs of condoms nearby. He had obviously continued having his way with her once he'd brought her back here.

She quietly exited, heading out barefoot in her ridiculous dress. She headed toward the road. She had begun her self-destructive party Friday night. It was now Sunday morning, as she could tell by an LED sign out front of a nearby gas station. She took stock of her surroundings. She was a few miles away from her own apartment.

She managed to hitch back there. An older woman took pity on the obviously distressed, battered girl bare-legged and barefoot on the street. The door to her apartment was open. Her roommate still didn't appear to be back, luckily. Many of Melody's belongings had been ransacked.

Miraculously her phone and wallet were still in the place she hid them. She got all of the rest of her things she could fit in a duffelbag and left before her roommate could come back and explode at her. She had to get a new address again.

She went to the far end of LA and stayed a few days in a cheap motel. It was then that she finally forced herself to watch the videos of what had been done to her. She flushed with embarrassment at the things she had said to the camera. How could she have gotten so drunk and done this to herself? She skipped through the hours of footage but saw enough to get the picture. She hated herself all over again seeing it, and yet her battered cunt still produced a thick and ceaseless flow of juice as she viewed her abuse and shame. She deserved everything that happened to her.

It wasn't the hideous acts the seemingly endless succession of men committed on her that shocked and shamed her the most (the world had seen plenty of that), it was her own words and actions she witnessed that made her want to shrivel up and die all over again. For the first few hours, before she just became a virtual unresponsive fuckdoll, she behaved exactly like a pornstar. She happily got into absurd porn positions for the guys to fuck her in the most camera-friendly ways, encouraged each guy to "fuck me in my nasty little pussy," and other equally stupid expressions, begging for each man's cum and then thanking him for donating it to her worthless whore holes. For a while a guy fucked her in her ass while displaying her "full nelson" style, with her facing out and holding her legs spread wide for the camera. Guys would step in to use her pussy for a bit, then would cum and leave it vacated, just an empty hole above her cock-stuffed asshole. She saw herself fishing the cum out of her pussy at those moments and drizzling it into her mouth, sucking it off each finger.

She remembered doing none of this. She thought of who would inevitably see this back home. Her face grew hotter with each successive face she thought of. No one would ever believe that she was set up for this life to begin with, now. There would be no shred of doubt in anyone's mind that she was anything other than a true, wanton slut who couldn't control herself. Any apparently they'd be right. This was all in her. She did deserve all the shame, all the public outing. She shifted in place and realized how absolutely filled her panties were with girlcum. She stuck a hand down the front of her underwear and pulled out a thick, roping strand that flowed in clear sheens down her finger. She stared at it with her mouth hanging open like she was dumbfounded by it.

She got another apartment. It wasn't the best, but it would work. She didn't have the drive to move cities again...what difference would it even make? But at least they didn't know her address anymore.

She couldn't help but continue to monitor the forums. The obsession that some guys showed was starting to scare her. Was it only a matter of time before someone did something truly terrible to her? Murder...sold into sex trafficking?

In addition to all the fairly regular people who surely followed her exposure and guiltily pleasured themselves to it, she had become the pet slut of some strange and likely sinister corner of the internet, and they couldn't get enough of her. Couldn't get enough of the details of her life, current and past, and of the details of her body. Every single millimeter of it, just for the sake of removing any micron of privacy she might have held onto. And they wanted more. Some of the ideas posted in the "What would you like to see happen to Melody?" threads were simply unspeakable. They wanted to wreak every form of destruction that a girl could imaginably be subjected to upon her.

There were some guys who had tattoos of her face on them. She wasn't just some pornstar to them. The lurid reality, the all-encompassing, life-ruining reality of her story especially appealed to creeps. One guy posted pictures of his room, which he had turned into some kind of bizarre shrine dedicated to her. Photos of her lined the walls of his room, hundreds of them. From regular portraits from her old life to glossy printouts of her bukkaked face and everything in between. He collected mementos that people had taken and sold at various times: her old driver's license, a lock of her hair when it was dyed red, several pairs of dirty panties, all carefully sealed to preserve her scent. She was mortified. What was stopping a guy like this from kidnapping her and keeping her in some locked dungeon for the rest of her life to be his personal sex slave?

More weeks passed and soon she was back to being raped in the streets about once a week. She didn't fight, just used her skills she had acquired to get them off as fast as possible and hope the whole time that this wouldn't be the guy who decided to keep her as his own. Six new men in just over a month and a half. Luckily none of them took it too far, or saw where she lived. They took the risk of fucking her, got off, then came to their senses and bailed. Who knows how many other people every day recognized her but didn't muster the courage to approach.

One day she received a text from a hidden number. She didn't know how he had gotten her number, but it was obviously one of her more obsessive fans. He started out by sending her mocking barbs, pictures of her and her parents posing together at her highschool graduation, her smiling in her cap and gown, and then asking "Do you think they're proud of their baby girl now?" He continued for a while with more disparaging and hurtful comments and images, but she just ignored him for a while.

Finally he began to escalate. He began to detail the things he'd like to do to her. Most of it was worse than the things typically written on the forums. He said he was going to kidnap her and sell her to his connections in the human trafficking industry. That she would spend every day of the rest of her life in a dark hut in Liberia getting fucked by 40 new raw black dicks a day, getting pregnant over and over and catching every disease known to man until her shit was so wrecked even a homeless man wouldn't fuck her with someone else's dick. This was already starting to really disturb her, but on the third day when she pulled out her phone and reluctantly checked the latest message he sent, she nearly had a heart attack.

It was a picture of her current apartment from the outside. Her heartrate was flying. Another picture came in. It was her in her room the night before, taken through the window. She was looking down at her phone, oblivious. She automatically looked up at her window to make sure he wasn't still there right now.

She was thankful her roommates were home at least. She didn't sleep a wink that night, the whole time just waiting for someone to break through her window and take her. She knew she could not continue living life like this, unprotected. But she had no idea what else to do.

She moved again the next morning. She kept her life small enough to fit into a single duffelbag, still. She couldn't just move neighborhoods again. This guy had scared her badly. She got the first bus she could board to San Francisco.

She knew it was only a matter of time before she was in the same situation here. She moved from cheap hotel to cheap hotel. She didn't want to stay in the same place for more than a night or two. San Francisco was expensive. She didn't know if she'd be able to afford even a shitty apartment with roommates at the moment. She moved from place to place. She always looked over her shoulder. She knew she couldn't keep this up long. Her money was running out and she had nothing she could do to make real money. She began to feel a serious creeping despair that was threatening to overwhelm her. Two weeks in San Francisco and she had already been recognized a handful of times. Fucked in the street on two occasions, by five different men total. She was about to have a complete nervous breakdown, feeling unable to go anywhere or do anything. She had no options.

Then Bruce came into her life.

It happened on her 20th day in San Francisco. She had been recognized for the third time in this city, and was made to give her pussy to three new guys behind a liquor store. Mr. 1303, Mr. 1304, and Mr. 1305. They filmed and claimed to be streaming straight to her forums. The third guy was taking his turn with her when the police pulled up. He yanked his cock out of her so quick she yelled, and pulling his basketball shorts back up he took off with the other two. They got enough of a head start that the cops didn't even bother to chase them. They were more interested in Melody anyway, this apparent prostitute with her panties around her ankles and cum leaking from her cunt. She didn't even try to run.

They booked her for prostitution and indecent exposure. Her weak protests did nothing to help her. They were out to pad their numbers. They were not inclined to believe her. The position and circumstance they found her in was certainly not one that indicated rape, to them. She sat in the holding cell and contemplated more months in jail again. They set her bail at $1000.

It was Bruce who bailed her out, six hours later. She knew the instant she saw him that he was there for her. He was older, probably in his late 50s, but fit and handsome. He was well-dressed. When he first saw her he broke out into a strange yet somehow comforting smile. He exuded authority. For some reason she immediately began to trust him.

The cops turned her over to him without a question once he paid her bail. She went with him voluntarily to his car. It was a Cadillac. It smelled new. There were very few words of introduction between them. She understood him without having to be told. He had to know her from her online notoriety. It was how he had known where to come looking for her. He probably knew what every single inch of her body looked like. Had probably seen every manner of repugnant thing done to her. By his firmness and the effortless confidence which oozed from him, she knew that he approved of what he had seen. This was to be no standard, good-Samaritan liberation. He would be a savior of sorts. But it would come with many things he would require of her.

Melody knew all this intuitively, within moments of meeting him. He knew she knew, as well. The ride back to his place in the hills above the city only began to confirm the details of the offer she knew had to be coming.

"You have nowhere to go, do you?" he asked her. His voice was warm but carried in it already hints of the biting authority she knew he had to be capable of, as if at any moment he could snap into giving a command. His hand rested on her thigh, but respectfully low, near her knee. She didn't try to shrink from it.

"No."

"I thought not. You have no prospects of any kind, do you?"

She looked out the window. The city dropped and rolled away beneath them.

"No." Her voice was soft, just above a whisper.

He took her chin in his hand and turned her face to him.

"You will be alright now. If you want to be."

Night was falling when they arrived at his house. It had an incredible view of the city, of the bay and the bridge. She couldn't imagine how rich he had to be to afford this. She couldn't imagine how lucky she was to get swooped up by this guy instead of literally anyone else it could have been.

They had wine on an elevated patio that hung halfway off the hillside, after she showered and put on the most comfortable bathrobe she had ever felt. He said he lived here alone. This wasn't his only house. He didn't talk about himself much at all beyond that. They mused over small talk and little nothings for a while. He did not seem to be in any rush. She found herself almost liking him.

"I want to protect you, Melody. I am well aware of the particulars of your situation, and the particularly unique predicament you are in. There is no need to elaborate at present, unless you wish to. There will be time aplenty. I feel that I am uniquely capable of offering you a fitting living situation. As you can probably imagine, our relationship will not be standard. I am not a man of normal sexual tastes nor a respecter of norms. I will not gloss over the fact that I can be demanding. But I think if you choose to take me up on what I am prepared to offer you, you will find yourself more than satisfied in all of the various needs I suspect you have."

She sipped her wine and stared down at the lights far below.

"I don't know that I have much of an alternative anyway, but I have to say whatever you are prepared to offer me is probably a hell of a lot better than whatever else would be coming for me." She smiled a little at him. It was probably the first time she had smiled in months.

He returned it. His hard-set eyes examined her in the half light.

"I know you must be afraid of what some of your less savory fans might do to you if they find you. I won't parse words there. You are correct to fear it. In fact, I'm amazed worse hasn't befallen you already. Not to minimize that which you have endured, but...plenty of men out there would be more than happy to force you into a situation you could never remove yourself from. One that would not even appeal to a woman with your...sensibilities."

She blushed into her wine glass. She knew he meant "a woman who has an uncontrollable sexual urge to be disgraced and used and humiliated." She didn't even try to explain or defend herself.

"I have seen plenty of discussion of interest in having you kidnapped and turned into the most pitiful and doomed of sex slaves on the planet -- the kind that are chained naked to a wall and never permitted to leave their cinder block cell or see sunlight, ever. If they had their way you would have your legs tied open and be forced to do nothing but watch as 50 new men a day sloppily and harshly had their way with you, peasants in the third world who would pay a dollar each to fuck a white cunt. Then you'd be served your one meal of gruel a day and permitted to sleep for four hours before it was all repeated over again, every day for the rest of your life. I don't say this to be crude or scare you unnecessarily. This is the reality of life for many tens of thousands of invisible women around the world. It is simply a fact that there are some who want to see this done to you for no other reason than the pure cruelty and control of it. They want to see you truly reduced to nothing, as punishment for being what you are. And that's just assuming someone doesn't kill you first. They will keep taking it further."

Her hands were trembling slightly. She set the glass down so it would be less obvious. Unbidden, tears started to form in the corners of her eyes.

He touched the side of her face and made her look at him.

"I can offer you protection from that. And in far lovelier confines than, I would guess, almost anyone else so inclined would be able to offer you."

He refilled both of their glasses.

"We can discuss the exact particulars later, but there will be terms to our arrangement. I will require you to submit to me, perhaps more fully than you have ever submitted to anyone. I will have rules for you. You will do whatever I say, so long as you are here with me under my protection. My rules will be fair. My actions will be measured. My firmness will be for your own good. I will guide and sculpt the desires that I already know are inside of you. I will show you how to take ownership of them, to gain power and purpose from them. You will be permitted to leave at any time of your choosing, of course. I do not seek to make you a prisoner. But I will not disguise the fact that I am absolutely positive that the life I can offer you here will be far better for you than anything that may await you out there."

He swept his hand out and gestured at the lesser world below.

"But you will submit to me entirely while under my guidance and protection. Do you understand?"

She looked into those dark, unblinking eyes. She knew in that moment that this man must be capable of what most people would call cruelty. She did not know how far. But at the same time he had a way of making her feel as if she maybe deserved whatever cruelty he might see fit to bestow upon her. She nodded, meekly.

He smiled.

"You are the loveliest form of weak and broken. I am glad fate finally brought us together."

He stroked the side of her face again, carefully feeling her smooth ivory skin. She trembled.

"Do not be frightened," he said. "This is the only way you will gain ownership of your nature and situation. I will cultivate, use, and develop your tendencies. I will teach you to love them and live in constant pleasure, though not of the kind most people imagine. You will be safe here. We will have our own world together. You won't have to worry about the actions and opinions of everyone out there anymore. With me there will be no material wants in your life. I will give you whatever you need. These needs will be dictated by me. You will have the best medical care. A woman with your lifestyle is at severe risk for AIDS, cervical cancer, and everything else under the sun, as I'm sure you know, if you don't already have them. To be frank, the human body has not evolved to protect itself against so many sexual partners as you've had."

She flushed again in shame. He was calling her an abomination of nature. But he was right.

"I imagine you didn't have any health insurance on your own. Well now you won't need it. You'll have the best doctors in the country as your personal physicians, and it won't cost you a cent."

His eyes flicked up and down her body. He leaned closer to her, then gently pulled open her bathrobe, revealing her nakedness beneath. He looked at it for along time, his eyes roving as long as they wanted to.

"You have, by whatever means the true story is, found yourself in a particularly unique situation in life. But you have yet to fully accept it. You've gone through waves of acceptance, or resignation rather, but they're always fleeting. You always revert. I will teach you not only to accept it but to love it. The love for it is in there, I know, but your shame hides it. I will teach you to use that shame, to use it as a crucible for the greatest pleasure imaginable. Only I can do this for you. But you have to allow yourself to trust me completely. As you said though, what other choice do you really have?"

He leaned back and laughed then, loudly, inappropriately pleased. She started to shut her robe again after his hands left.

"Don't," he said. "Just leave it open. You must learn you have nothing to hide from me. You're right though. Your reputation, your future with any hope of any kind of normal life is already ruined. It's impossible, even should you want to return to that. I know you do, but you can't. So I will show you another kind of life is possible. My offer to you should be seen as a godsend, given your particulars."