The Revisit

"Yeah, I thought so. Nice."

The two bodies on the bed didn't move a muscle. Elisabeth could feel Caleb softening between her fingers; Dominic's presence must not have been any more pleasant for him. But while they both felt displeasure, her rerouted impulses took her body down another path. She froze her stare on that face, that grinning face that she loathed, and felt revulsion -- revulsion at the very idea that he could ever get to see her like this. She felt, too, the stirring sickness that she'd felt in the bathroom, and when watching the video back. To her, being caught, watched, and enjoyed was the most stimulating prospect of all; for it to be the sneering, toxic bully who'd just minutes ago delighted in rubbing her nose in her worst memories, who'd been the first to ever catch her... it was so wrong, so unbelievably unfair, that she felt stabbing it in her gut like the pangs of nausea. With her heart racing, stress hormones pumping throughout her body, her pussy, just about still covered by the hem of her dress, clamped tight, and then relaxed; yearning, against her better judgement, to be filled. To be taken.

Her lower lip quivered. She managed to keep her tone measured. "Go wait downstairs."

Caleb was panicking. "Yeah, maybe... maybe go wait? We'll--"

"Do... what?" Dominic's features widened into an unconsummated laugh, astonished at the gall of the instruction. "Get off my parents' bed, take your fucking shit-- " he threw her bag down at his feet "--and take this shit up the road. Or better yet, go back to your hotel." He was, naturally, genuinely angry at the transgression. Like most bullies, especially those who make it to adulthood, Dominic was easily barbed. The sight of his best friend being blown silly by someone whom he shared a mutual contempt with must have stung. Elisabeth's reticence was twofold: here was an opportunity to hurt the asshole here he lived. But it was becoming sincerely difficult to restrain herself from the noxious, prohibited pleasure that was apparently stoked by allowing this scumbag past her defences.

He doesn't win if he doesn't know what it's doing to you. Her pussy quivered with disgusted delight. It wasn't just the confounding shame of the thrill of him watching. It was the fact that she was already making excuses to herself. The knowledge that something so tantalisingly self destructive was on the table that she was talking herself into it just to keep hold of a feeling that she knew she shouldn't be feeling at all.

"If you don't like it, go back outside." Her retort echoed his earlier dismissal of her distress, her voice calm, almost singsong. Without hesitation, she turned back to Caleb, winked at his shocked stare of realisation at what she was doing. She sank her head onto his cock once more, sliding her lips down to his base and suppressing the sincere urge to gag. She failed, a humiliating splutter disrupting the seal between her lips and his shaft. She bobbed up and down some more, keeping him deep and affecting filthy, pornographic moans for the benefit of her hated audience.

"Uh, Elisabeth?" Caleb was hardening in her mouth. Harder than he'd been before. His voice was pure bewilderment. "Should we... we can go to mine... oh..." She sucked hard, dragging her lips tight from the base of his twitching prick all the way to the tip, pulling her lips free with a loud, wet pop. "Uh-uh." She repeated the motion once more, the surface of his cock glistening wet. She massaged it with her clenched fingers, slippery skin squelching as she shifted up and down, leaning lower to take his balls into her mouth and repeat the same heavy suck-and-release motion. Caleb gripped the sheets and fell back, his hips moving in time with her fingers, his lips giving way to stunned groans.

She didn't look back. "Are you getting off on this, you fucking pervert?" she sneered, teasing his balls with her tongue and licking him up to the frenulum before inhaling his length once more. Another wet, suckling popping sound. "You'd better get used to me blowing your friend here. Maybe try and learn something."

She could feel his eyes on her. The movements of her mouth and hands must have been partially obscured, as her ass was pointed straight at the doorway. She resisted the agonising urge to wriggle it left and right; every taunt, every provocation, filled her with adrenaline. She knew, hopelessly, that she was playing with fire, here. He was just as liable to run away crying as he was to try and hold his own. Her body screamed at her, begging her to keep pushing this button.

"I always knew you were a fucking whore." His words smouldered. She could feel them land, as real as the feeling of Caleb's cock on her tongue. "Fuck you, Grippy. Fucking deviant cunt." The nickname caused her to clamp tight once again. The sick, hot embarrassment of reliving years of being mocked and outed that she'd felt downstairs was now coursing through the blood that was rushing to her clit, filling her with potent, degrading sluttishness.

"You're still here?" she mewed, wetly pumping Caleb's cock in her fist. She leaned to the side a little, to let him have a better view. Both heard Caleb mutter "what the fuck is going on" to the ceiling, in between dirty groans at the reverence being lavished on his dick.

"We'll be gone just as soon as I suck your bestie dry" she said, matter-of-factly. She wanted so badly to move her hips. To squirm, to undulate, to express her state of arousal with her whole body. Perhaps her dress would ride up and expose her holes to the creep. Her cunt slathered her thighs with moisture.

"I'm not waiting. Now." His voice was quiet, tempered, as if on the verge.

"Fucking make me, you loser." A slight squirm of her pelvis. "You don't tell me what to do, Dominic, ever. You dumb piece of shit."

Caleb, just as enraptured and unable to stop the show, raised his head in protest a little. "Wait--"

"--in about ten seconds your handsome buddy here is going to cum straight down my throat, and there is fucking nothing you can do to stop that from happening."

She turned to face Caleb again, and concentrate on her task. Elisabeth knew her technique was exquisite, that there would be fireworks behind Caleb's eyes by now. And she felt alive; disgustingly, depravedly alive. The situation couldn't be more inappropriate, more the opposite of what she should want. Now that she'd caught up to it, the personal, inward guilt at being seen by him was delectable. She could feel her conscience, hostile and screaming its sirens throughout her body, as she surged arrogantly past the point of no return. Her view of herself was permanently impaired. There would likely be reputational damage once he ran his mouth again. Fuck. He was probably nursing a grubby little erection right now. For all she knew, he was touching himself. FUCK. Her head slid down Caleb's marvellous cock over and over, her neck and jaw articulating, twisting, her lips following that twist as they travelled up and down the shaft. Her eyes were open, searching for his, but to her own delight, he was gone: his face out of view as his body writhed towards his inevitable orgasm.

If she hadn't heard the footsteps -- though he tried to keep them soft, Dominic was gigantic -- she would have been more surprised to feel his hand on her lower back. She didn't react, at least not outwardly, refusing to let Dominic win this game of chicken. All she had to do was keep sucking. His hand slid back towards him, and she felt the other, grasping her rump through her dress. Let him. The adrenaline spiked once more, and she sucked harder, more vigorously, riding the repulsive thrill of her boundaries being crossed, all the while staying silent, focused on the cock gliding in and out of her tonsils.

The sound of his breathing, getting heavier. His thumbs under the hem of her dress, palms flat, pushing the thin cotton up to the small of her back, her lower half completely exposed. Her cunt hummed with joy, with anticipation; fresh disgust roiled deliciously in her belly.

She paused, hesitating, her brow furrowing. She was becoming unable to focus. Dominic's hands were searching her backside, squeezing and massaging her buttocks, as if probing something foreign and unknown. He pulled her open with his thumbs, appraising her holes. She let out a quivering gasp into Caleb's cock, and he hoisted himself up on his elbows to see what was happening.

"Dominic, what the fuck?"

"Oh, you guys don't mind me." That same still, tempered voice, with the addition of deep breathing. "I can't stop you, right? Do what you want."

Elisabeth still wasn't moving. He caressed her hips, her buttocks, thighs, groping her exposed flesh. From his vantage point, Caleb could see his upper lip curled, that mirthless grin transformed into something deeper. Sizing her up. Taunting her with his touch.

She grappled, inwardly, with fresh screams of protest from her better judgement, and the feeling of deep hatred that she carried for him. It was becoming harder and harder to convince herself -- or the room at large -- that she was controlling the situation. Every touch of her skin was a breach, that she could never reclaim, for his own selfish pleasure. His hands wandered and, eyes closed, she could see his stupid face in her mind, that nasty grin of petty sadism, the same petty sadism in whose spirit he was now violating her.

"Elisabeth, are you okay?" Caleb spoke quite softly. He still had his cock in her mouth, but for the first time, he could see her eyes closed, her breathing long and contemplative, steadying herself, as if trying to figure things out in her head. She didn't attempt to answer, but her brow furrowed a little more in response.

With a loud clap, Dominic's right hand struck Elisabeth's right buttock. It stung; this time, she couldn't rein in her impulses. She yelped, muffled. Her spine flexed in response, arching one way, then the other, followed by the squirm she'd thus far suppressed. Caleb's cock throbbed on her tongue. Paralysed by indecision, she waited, still, trying to reconcile the swarm of conflicting feelings catalysing her arousal.

"Elisabeth...?"

"You said I couldn't stop you. Go on, make him cum." Another slap, this time a little harder. She yelped and shuddered again, and this time, moved back into motion, apparently obeying the instruction. She resumed sucking, albeit slowly, still slathering his cock with spit and the frictionless gliding of her warm lips, but now distracted, focused on processing the hated, unsolicited attention from the arrogant loser behind her.

More smacks, loud and stinging, her body reacting with jolts and shudders at each one. She had sunk inward, not fully lost, but in need of time to separate provocation from gratification; how she could possibly explain her compliance, to either of them, or herself.

"Are you--"

"--Ignore him." She pulled herself free, speaking as dismissively as she could manage with her body jerking and writhing in delight at each slap. "He doesn't get to ruin this."

"Um... I guess..." With her mouth empty, it was easier for Caleb to gauge her responses. She didn't look like she was ignoring it. With each smack, she winced, and her lips snarled into a just scarcely withheld moan. Dominic was standing behind her, his stare focused fully on her ass, methodically bringing his hand down and smirking a little wider on impact, admiring the wobbling of her skin. Caleb's gaze flicked between the two, him leering and tormenting her, her struggling with anger and denial.

"OH..." Elisabeth moaned in genuine, hostile surprise, her expression constricting and a new, harsher violation. "He's got his finger in me." She sounded truly panicked. "Dominic. Get out of my cunt. Get out."

He had slid his middle finger all the way into her pussy, holding it level and sliding it in and out of her in a slow, measured, straight line. She winced at each movement.

"Hey, man, she told you to get out. This is too fucked up now."

"If she doesn't like it she can just go." Dominic's voice had returned to its natural state of condescension. "She's not tied up, dude. It's her choice."

It was true. While Elisabeth snarled insults and reprimands back over her shoulder, her hips were moving in time with his skewering finger, inviting it inside.

"We can just go."

"Um... um." Another pause, this time filled with soft moans. "He... he doesn't get to win."

"What?"

Elisabeth lunged forward, sliding Caleb's cock into her throat once more. It was all she could think of to keep up the pretence: feign indifference to Dominic's interference and transfer her explosive arousal into the blowjob.

"I am winning" he leered. "Your pussy is so fuckin' wet, Grippy. Was this all for me?"

Another muffled squeal. She couldn't help it; her disgust at the situation had become disgust with herself, and that self-loathing was too vibrantly grim a thrill to walk away from. The sound of him blaming her was all too well aligned with her inner voice, too. It was her fault. She was letting this unlikeable dipshit rummage around in her pussy. He was right. She could just walk away. She was letting it happen. She wanted to let it happen.

The thoughts spiralled and fed into each other as his finger jabbed in and out of her more roughly, producing an audible squelch that only furthered her self-hatred. She could hear him laughing at it, drily, under his breath. She was used to the thrill of exposure, of being caught, of being unsafe -- but letting someone who repulsed her on every level violate her, steal pleasure from her, made her feel so pathetically, inexcusably objectified that it magnified that thrill tenfold. There was no hiding her arousal. Her cunt felt swollen and horribly wet; her ass rose and fell and writhed against his hand, and her body swallowed his finger against all vestiges of self respect, clamouring to be fucked more. Harder. Worse.

"I didn't realise you wanted me this bad, Liz."

She had buried her face in Caleb's obliques, her hand still clinging to his cock, but unmoving.

"We could've worked something out. I would've fucked you anytime you liked."

"I don't want it" she moaned, in total futility. "I don't want you."

His left hand struck her ass, much harder than before, and a fresh sweat emerged from her skin. As she shuddered, absorbing the smack, he slid his index finger in to accompany the first.

"Yeah, you fucking do."

"No." Her voice quavered. "I fucking hate you."

"Crawl forward then." He fucked her with two fingers, pressing downwards to stretch her hole open. She could feel his eyes on it -- peering inside her with miserable curiosity. His other hand slapped her on alternating cheeks, over and over; catlike, she arched further and further, raising her ass in the air to invite his violation.

"Just move forward a little and end it."

She scrunched her eyes shut, the tension in her neck and shoulders threatening muscle cramps. She couldn't think of an excuse. High on her own degradation, mewing, cooing, wriggling, wanting it to continue. If he knew how much she craved this extraordinary debasement, her life was over.

She looked pleadingly at Caleb, her eyes moist. "Am I safe?"

"Are you..." he was near lost for words. "Yeah, yeah, you're safe. We can go if you want."

"We can?"

"Yeah, anytime."

Elisabeth's eyes unfocused once more as she sat with the rough fingering for another ten seconds, absorbing the wretched pleasure of it and trying to figure out her next move.

"Can you fuck me?" He was still so hard.

"What, here? You want to stay?"

She raised her head a little more, groaning at the violation of her pussy and the frustration of needing to repeat herself.

"Caleb, please, please just fuck me, please."

Caleb relented, somehow. He slid his jeans the rest of the way off, rolling sideways and kneeling up next to her. Realising the urgency with which he'd need to take charge of the situation, he gripped her by her waist and hoisted her forward. She fell flat on her face, free of Dominic's fingers, hiding her shame in the bedsheets. Dominic was true to his word; he didn't try and stop her. His actions so far had been those of an opportunist, a scavenger. As far as he was concerned, it was consent by omission, a feeling that Elisabeth, darkly, shared.

"On your back, then."

She rolled over, her dress having ridden up enough to expose her belly button, her legs falling open, on cue, ready for him. She looked down: there was Caleb, nude, his body exquisite, mounting the bed once more and brandishing his cock with an expression of total uncertainty; and Dominic, still fully clothed, nostrils flared, staring down at the glistening, spread-open cunt she'd long lost the willpower to try and hide from him.

Caleb reared up, the perfection of his figure utterly ruined by the presence of her lifelong bully. He seemed to be trying his best to ignore his friend, towering next to his shoulder. She could see the bulge, now, too, and winced outwardly. She'd gotten him hard. She'd let the piece of shit finger her and she'd gotten him hard.

As Caleb's gorgeous cock slid between the moist lips readied by Dominic, her arm jumped, and she realised instantly that she'd only just managed to hold herself back from reaching over and grasping that bulge. But it felt every bit as good as she'd expected -- he took long, methodical strokes, his shoulders unmoving, his hips rolling forward into hers, and she undulated in kind. It would have been a respite from the shame of the situation, if not for Dominic's continued presence. But this masterfully paced thrusting, filling her wonderfully with the best kind of ache, was helping to quiet her thoughts somewhat.

"All the girls love your cock, huh?" Dominic was peering around, watching it fill her. She did her best to keep her eyes on Caleb.

She widened her legs, lifting them up off the bed to give him more purchase. She didn't even hesitate to think about what Dominic might see when she discarded her dress; she needed to be naked, on display, admired, stared at, watched; to have any part of herself covered at this point felt unacceptable. As he filled her again, she moaned, her light brown body arching in the dim light and shimmering with sweat. She moaned again, and found his face, smiling at him, her eyebrows knotted with pleasure. "Yeah" she smirked. "This is the cock I've been dreaming about."

"Fuck her good, dude." Dominic slapped a hand across Caleb's naked back. "Fuckin' give it to her. She's loving it." Caleb frowned a little, trying his best to dismiss the commentary, and leaning forward to crowd his body around her, shielding her from his presence. For all that the situation seemed dark, Caleb was as sexual a being as Elisabeth, and accustomed to going along with things.

"Just don't hog it, man. I get a turn too."

The corners of Elisabeth's mouth turned down in utter revulsion as she felt herself get wetter still. Her look of horrified disgust was pointed straight at Caleb, as if to ask him if he was going to stand by and let it happen. He was picking up pace, too, his cock thumping into her, each fresh thrust fragmenting the reasoning she was trying to form. Utterly high on good cock and wretched humiliation, she couldn't decide a thing for herself.

"Is that true?" Caleb panted, trying to keep his voice low. "Does he get a turn?"

Her eyes, and the revolted contortion of her mouth, widened. No words. There was a tremble of the head -- "yes", "no", or "I don't know" -- and a shocking lack of clarity. She dug her nails into his hips, trying to exert some of the tension of pleasure and stress that was overwhelming her.

It was just like the bathroom, again. Even with her best efforts to suppress and ignore, Dominic's presence was a catalyst. The kind of person -- no, the specific person -- she had designed herself to reject outright, to repel, to hate; the idea of that person enjoying her body, the idea of letting him... it was intoxicating, addictive. He would see her as nothing but a slut, and she knew, with all of her body as Caleb fucked it so beautifully, that that is what she would be.